NFW Brawl
Reported on Saturday, May 10 2008
Grab 1,500 people with enough money and drugs in New York City to score tickets to another SECRET NFW Warm-Up House Show and you can pretty much expect more blood, insanity and chaotic physical collisions that would make Charles Manson say “FUCK DUDE” even if he’s riding wingman while Evel Kneivel jumps them over a canyon upside down. Gordey charged Varga in the ring but got tripped up by the fact that he was suddenly alone. This gave Varga an opening for his self-proclaimed “Deadliest, Blood-Vessel-Poppingest Overhand Chop This Side of the Alpha Centauri Star System,” which might be a taaaad bit of an overstatement considering it looked like it hurt, but not as much as Gordey’s stiff clothesline to Varga’s face in retaliation. By now Legion and Luci were sauntering casually down to the ring as Felix was busy trying to fit Duncan’s head between two railings of the barricade. He appeared to be halfway there (amidst a sea of screams from the Dream Teamer) when Legion and Luci collectively decided to jump his ass. With Felix sated after a series of stomps to the face and chest, Legion and Luci dragged him and Duncan down to the ring, finally squaring the focus of action in this “match” on a single location. This was good news for me, because by now I was rolling my nuts off and watching two fights at once was making me wicked dizzy. When I think raging testosterone pump-up moments, I think Patti Smith. ‘Right Said Fred’ blasted and the now more salt than pepper made his first NFW appearance in awhile. Odds are that "The Fashion Plate" Marcus Price wasn't quite sure what he signed up for when he walked into Hammerstein Ballroom tonight - not that it would have mattered once he got in the ring with Brock Alyas, aka Ass Kicker Numero Uno. Of course, NFW’s been making it a habit of finding some lost legends from the *Prodigy Circuit to do some dirty work, which didn’t seem like the former AAWC and UWA Champion’s line of employment anymore. Price, flanked by two models and still showing off his Armani six-piece abs might’ve still had it. As I type those words, Calamity lets out a girlish scream of glee as “GOD SAVE THE QUEEN” by the Sex Pistols completely causes my eardrums to convulse like the time I saw this Chloe chick in a porno feel some sort of button pushed inside her body while two chicks were playing a game of hide the shoehorn with some of her… Jeeves immediately starts nervously asking for the music to be shut off as the crowd starts booing intensely. He starts remarking this isn’t the version his master meant when putting in a request for this event… We’ve five security guys on Calamity, but they knew to have ten surrounding Lord Coyner Pollard as he walked out with a wide smile on his face. Of course, he also happened to be wearing an embroidered British Flag as a cape to his exquisite Commonweath Dalmation Fur and Quail Feather collared and tailored robe.Highlo
My name is Gordon, I’m a new intern with the CODNAME: GEKKO and bear with me…someone spiked my water. Meanwhile, Sirius Radio is pumping ‘The Seeker’ as Wild (flashes hand signal) FIIIIIIVE Star welcomes the satellite radio listening world to another NFW Brawl.
Since the last time I’ve been ordered to transcribe these to the vast black cauldron heart sea of the Internet, Calamity has learned about this particular job duty and now…well, more on that later.
‘Cause y’know we’ve got a show, even if Sean Toombs is ALREADY calling the NYC Weed Dealers again. Fans are piling into the Ballroom balcony seats and then the lights go out. The crowd is amped, I’m psyched to see who’s coming out…
Instead…
…As if the tracers from the ‘mollies’ that Mike from ‘business services’ dropped in my Nalgene as a joke weren’t enough…
The Hammerstein Ballroom was about to get turned on its shaky rafters as the Frontier’s newest mouthpiece, James “My Latest Promo Cracked Your Mother’s Reading Glasses” Varga appeared on-stage to relatively little fanfare and stomped his way down to the ring, stopping only to knock some poor schmo’s eight-dollar beer out of his hand. Prick.
In the ring, Varga started by screaming at fans piling into the auditorium to “stop moving for one damn second” and let him air his grievances about the show last week in Hammy’s sister ballroom, Roseland. You think Vivid signed those sister twins to a contract before or after they watched each other violate each other with dildoes while rocking the shocker?
Sorry…drugs.
Varga wasn’t happy with Legion and Luci’s interference that led to him getting his bell rung (and THE bell rung) in his match against the “World’s Greediest Rocker of the Perma-Jersey” Brock Alyas. Varga demanded satisfaction (of which he had gotten none), and before you could say “What smells like acetylene?” the Boss Man himself CRAIG MILES appeared on the FRONTIERtron.
He hasn’t paid me for any of this yet. And a BJ from a tranny hooker backstage that was heavy on the teeth does NOT count. Mainly Miles won money on a bet with my cousin, who didn’t think he’d get me drunk enough to do that.
Spurting blood at the end was apparently “Priceless,” for my family…but enough about the pain the universe brings upon me.
At any rate, Miles wasted no time deriding Varga for having to gall to foul up the opening of HIS show. I mean, Miles really laid into him. He said some REALLY hurtful stuff. I looked around, and a couple of kids were actually crying…which made me start crying.
SIDEBAR: Who brings kids to an NFW show? Did Yori Yakamo Jr teach them nothing? We’re talking about a wrestling promotion that was born in one of the seediest bars of BALTIMORE. You know what lovely television shows they base there?
Homicide.
The Wire.
So Miles was yelling, Varga was losing color in his face, kids were crying, I was crying, and then I kept crying because Calamity snuck up and peed on the back of my neck. Yeah, you read that right, he peed on the back of my neck. WTF? Nobody can take constructive criticism normally anymore.
Miles told Varga if he wanted to stand opposite of the Wrestling Revolution he might as well enjoy a little like-minded company…and then dropped one of those booking bombs we’ve come to love on the house shows…it’d be Varga. PLUS FELIX RED. Against none other than the DREAM TEAM. And LEGION/LUCI4 as the cherry on top of this tag-team Sundae O’ Destruction. Before this announcement could sink in on the crowd (much less Varga), Gordey and Duncan were already halfway down the ramp…except Duncan was halted in-transit by Felix leaping out of the fan barricade and spearing him off the ramp! Makes you wonder how long Felix was in the crowd, or what he was doing there, besides the obvious answer of ‘drugs, idiot.’ JAMES VARGA/FELIX RED vs. THE DREAM TEAM vs. LEGION/LUCI4
The zebra called for the bell, but no one really paid much attention. Gordey slung Varga off the ropes and spiked him onto the mat with that beautiful spinebuster of his, Felix shook off the cobwebs and slapped an unsuspecting Luci so hard you had to wonder how much practice he had at that, and Legion realized just how f(BLEEP!)ing HUGE Brian Duncan actually was as the Devil’s Reject was tossed over the barricade and INTO the crowd. Hey, you get your money’s worth at these shows, amirite? Duncan turned around and Felix had taken apart a section of the ring steps and was holding them high overhead about to conk the tag title contender with them. Upon being spotted Felix reacted quickly by shaking the stairs violently and singing some kind of tribal chant, but Duncan didn’t buy the diversion and booted the former World Champ in the chest. Felix dropped the stairs on himself and it looked like it hurt real bad.
Luci decided to move closer to her own weight class by sliding into the ring, and telegraphed a gorgeous 360-degree jumping calf kick into the side of Gordey’s head, slowing his assault on the “Violator.” Varga repaid her with a knee to the stomach and a punch in the box, something rumor has it he’d been waiting to see the effectiveness of for some time. Varga got her up, planted her with a brainbuster, and then began pointing at the crowd and spinning in wild circles before tearing off his elbow pad and leaping up onto the top rope. Steam began pouring out of his ears, however, when he realized his “Macho” moment was being upstaged by a new entrant into this forum of chaos…
…THE UBER JUDGE~!
UJ was down the ramp in a flash, dispensing Justice left and right from his gavel with extreme prejudice, reserving the base-ballsiest of swings for Legion, who had been holding his own on the outside against a tiring Brian Duncan, and Felix Red, who had been standing on top of his section of stairs and delivering a speech to the crowd about what to do in a situation where you realize your coke dealer would kill you without hesitation. Red was to the chapter about giving him all your money when UJ tackled him off the stairs and began pummeling him with fists to the delight of the crowd, who struck up an impressive “YEW-JAY! YEW-JAY!” chant that resonated of the walls of the Hammerstein like so many great rock bands to come before us. UJ didn’t feel like staying however, and after pointing his Gavel O’ Truth at a fuming Legion, disappeared into the crowd, cloak fluttering despite the lack of circulating air in the building (something that had been bothering me since I arrived). Red, Duncan done…Luci and Varga are wearily delivering each other chairshots in the ring. Legion’s surveying…lost in the own chaos that’s he’s created, which is HIGHly ironic.
A raise of hands for everyone that just forgot about where the f*ck Mike Gordey was…
Legion? Ummm….LEGION!?
Welp, he spinned around into the ol’ boot to the gut, the harbinger of doom in this sport...more feared than Calvin Carlton’s mother at an all-you-can eat seafood buffet. Gordey reeled him in and delivered a sloppy, dirty and quick TIGER DRIVER that was enough to keep Legion’s bicycling legs from kicking out of the three count.
The dust settled as Duncan quickly pulled Gordey out for a celebration. Outside the ring, Felix Red looked P-I-S-S-E-D for the first time I’ve EVER seen. Dude was tossing chairs and screaming about how he’s dealing with idiots…one of the chairs nailed Varga in the head, which was not appreciated. Varga started cussing him out, but Felix just stormed out of sight…for now.
In the ring, Legion seemed a little shocked at the loss. The dude’s been preaching chaos and now the Uber Judge has TWICE caused it to work against him. Maybe he should stop worrying about Teddy Ruxpin stabbing folks and focus on the Asylum around him.
What?
Teddy’s a pretty toy.
NEXT!
“Superstar” by Lupe Fiasco.
…
Yeah, I’ve never heard of it either, but apparently STEVE KNOX has…IMPULSE v. STEVE KNOX
Ok, maybe not…but IMPULSE does.
This is, of course, means we are about to see a battle between two of the four men that made it to the end of the Television Title Royale back at Wrestlestock DOS, the one where 50,000 people DOS..ed. Although both men still had a lot of momentum after the match, only Knox had been able to take advantage of it so far…meanwhile, Impulse had to feel like Gary Coleman’s supposedly virgin balls up until some white trash hobo married him.
Impulse's entrance got a big pop due to the hometown crowd wanting to see the win, while Knox's got a HEFTY and certainly respected pop. Shake of the hands, bell ring…we’re rolling and Knox overpowered Impulse to start with, easily winning most of the power-based collar-and-elbow tieups until Impulse switched to his flying game. A few armdrags and an armdrag on Knox, but Knox breaks it up by pushing Impulse into the ropes. Another collar-and-elbow led to Impulse getting the headlock, but after a push into the ropes, Knox knocked down Impulse with a hard shoulderblock to a loud reaction. Impulse got to his feet and looked like he wanted to try that again, but instead, he slid underneath Knox and came back with a dropkick, which got two.
Impulse went back to the headlock, but Knox showed off surprising agility by kipping up out of the headlock, and ran into the ropes. An early attempt at the Gold Rush is countered into a crucifix pin, but it only got two. Knox was then grabbed into a schoolboy for another two, then a backslide for a third two-count, before Knox bailed to the outside to regroup. This seemingly proved to be a mistake when Impulse came flying at him with a pescado, but Knox shockingly caught Impulse in midair and then ran him into the post. Back in the ring, this got two.
Knox began to systematically take apart Impulse after this fact. A pair of vertical suplexes got two, and then a back suplex got another two count. Impulse instinctively tried the headlock again, but Knox shoved him into the ropes and caught him with a military press slam. A followup running forearm got another two count, before Knox applied a Boston crab on Impulse. Impulse was clearly in a lot of pain at this point, but refused to give up. Despite Knox's size advantage, Impulse managed to extend his arms and grab the bottom rope to break up the crab.
Knox added a couple of stomps to Impulse's back and whipped him into the turnbuckles, but an attempted Stinger splash hit nothing but turnbuckles after Impulse slipped through the top and second ropes. Impulse tried to hit him with a missile dropkick, but Knox brushed him aside and hit Impulse while he was recovering with a SICK Exploder suplex! But it only got two, as Impulse managed to stick a shoulder out. Knox began to methodically work on Impulse's left shoulder, perhaps looking for the Gold Standard and the submission. He hit Impulse with a trifecta of shoulderbreakers, not even letting go of Impulse after slamming the shoulder on his knee each time. This only got two, however.
Knox locked in a stepover armbar, really wrenching on Impulse's arm. When Impulse wouldn't tap, Knox shifted into the Fujiwara armbar, increasing the pressure. Impulse still wouldn't tap like the crazy masked man he was. Knox tried to switch to the Gold Standard after pulling Impulse up while still holding on to the arm, but a surprise reverse rollup from Impulse caught a quick two and stopped Knox from exploiting the arm for the Gold Standard. However, Knox regained the advantage by catching Impulse with a quick knee to the gut. An attempt at a German suplex was countered with a quick flip, with Impulse landing on his feet behind Knox. A quick boot and a DDT sent Knox to the canvas, but Impulse was slow to get up.
Impulse ducked Knox's attempt at a right hand upon both men's recoveries, and began to hit Knox with a furious flurry of forearms! Impulse then darted into the ropes behind him and scored with a flying lariat that put down Captain Awesome and Impulse was quick to get the cover. But it only got two and a half, after Knox shot a shoulder up. Not to let his sudden burst of momentum pass him by, Impulse tried for a Yakuza kick, only for Knox to block it. Again, Knox went for the back suplex, but this time, Impulse shifted his weight and came down on top of Knox for another close two count.
Impulse manages to stun Knox by kicking him in the head after getting back to his feet, and this allowed Impulse time to leap onto the top turnbuckles. He then nailed Knox with a missile dropkick, taking the larger man off of his feet! Again with the cover, but again, only a very close two count!
Impulse shouted to the sky. Tonight would be his night, he would finally get that elusive singles victory. He ran into the ropes and caught a recovering Knox with the Yakuza Kick, knocking him down near the ropes. Impulse saw his chance and slingshot his way to the top ropes, before coming down with the Shooting Star Press! Fans cheered wildly for the spectacular move, and Impulse thought he had it won!
But he didn't.
At the count of two, the referee looked up to see that Knox had his foot on the ropes and stopped counting. Impulse wanted to know what was up, and he seemed perturbed by Knox having his foot on the ropes. Nevertheless, Impulse slipped to the outside, and waited for Steve to get to his feet. When Steve did, Impulse flew through the air and GOT OBLITERATED BY THE GOLD RUSH. Ho-lee crap, Impulse is dead to rights and Knox collapses on top for the contrasting, but easy three count.
Twenty-plus minutes with a sweet follow-up to the Television Royale encounter from these two…Impulse now has to look at MSG as either the opportunity of his life or as Calamity happily has put it, “Maybe a sign he should start thinking about working there seven days a week.”BROCK ALYAS vs. ‘The Fashion Plate’ MARCUS PRICE (j.) …well, that’s what we thought, but FELIX RED happens to wrestle here too and sometimes that just f*cks sh*t up…
Then Chevelle kicked up and the Brockmonster showed up. The Ballroom lit up, Brock yelled at one of the models making her cry and Calamity screamed to her from the balcony that he’d pay her 5 bucks to piss on him while he’s smoking meth.
Please tell me parents can block this channel.
Price tried backing away before the bell rang, but Brock snatched him through the ropes and yanked him back inside the hard way. Upon standing, a single punch with all the force of a live mortar shell nearly caved his face in. As he stumbled into the corner, out on his feet, Brock followed in with a lariat that sandwiched Price between him and the turnbuckles. By the way, I wonder if Brock’s going down the Kimbo Slice route and just waiting to get busted by a fat Irishcop.
That comment had nothing to do with his fighting skills, but moreso his Glad-Bag skills.
Anywhooooo, not letting Price fall, Brock quickly whipped him over with a Release Belly to Belly Overhead Suplex. Price tried crawling away, but Alyas grabbed his feet and yanked him away from the ropes. Scooping him up, Brock lays Price out with a Death Valley Driver. STILL not satisfied, he unleashes with a Wrist Clutch Exploder Suplex. But as he goes to cover...
HI! MY NAME’S FELIX RED AND I’M RANDOMLY SHOWING UP IN YOUR MATCH!
Red’s busting into Brock with kicks to the head like Peter North breaking in a 18 year old Valley Porn Virg! Brock tries standing up, but he’s got no scope sight on Felix as of yet…so BLAM! Felix hits Alyas from behind with a Northern Lariat that sends him through the middle ropes and all the way to the floor! The crowd is going wild - and they go even wilder when Red grabs the prone Price…looks at him…and then slaps him French-style twice! Price gets flopped on his stomach and Red locks him up in the Felix Stretch! Price starts tapping out like someone put a blowfish in his tights the one time he tried to moisturize his coin purse with kelp!
As Felix celebrates his "victory", Alyas charges in and Red quickly bails, but smiling all the way back up the ramp as the Hammerstein Fans chant his name! The ref starts waving off the match as paramedics attend to Price who’s convulsing in the ring. Brock grabs a mic and starts yelling for Felix to get his back in the ring and face him man-up style…Felix keeps walking, smiling with the fans.
“MAN. No wonder why Miles and Mayfield just think you’re job food these days.”
OOOOOOOOH goes the crowd on the 3.7897 star-rated burn on Felix as that gets him to stop right before the entrance. He takes a few steps towards the ring, Brock drops the mic and is in ‘ready’ position faster than you can say “The Mad Hatter likes to ride fatties bareback.”
Felix then stops, starts chuckling slightly. Kind of acting like there’s someone MORE insane than him (perish the thought!) but only for a moment (thank god, I thought the world would end) and so Felix just cupped his hands over his mouth and came back the best way he could.
“OVERRATED!” (clap twice)
And with that quick example, not only did Felix Red simply turn around and leave…but he left 1,000 fans at the Hammerstein Ballroom giving it to Alyas as he turned beet red for a few minutes of pointless trash-talk with the crowd…until Insurgent Security had to help get the proceedings moving along to the upcoming main event.
That being said…
With the Revolution Professional Regime purposely shoving Felix Red into virtual scrums with people he doesn’t care about, while seeing Alyas elevate a 6-0 record and #4 ranking on ESEN’s latest rankings…maybe the right buttons are being pushed by the regime on Red wanting to prove his superiority here, which is all they wanted out of Nova. Meanwhile, any fan has to question Alyas’ rocket-launch up the rankings, but not too many believed he’d beat Professor Tremendous either.
Wow, I’m really thinking about this WAY TOO MUCH.
Damn you Business Services…
…damn you.NFW WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP MAIN EVENT
NOVA © vs…
Wildstar’s not sure who the challenger could be, maybe a Kin Hiroshi return?
Ok maybe not…’cause Jeeves is running out. For the record, Toombs has taken more bubbler hits off the $35 dimebag than any wrestling analysis. Although, he did comment that he could tell Price’s model’s tits were fake ‘cause there was no ripple when she wiggled.
So, yeah…Jeeves the Butler has the microphone.…JEEVES THE BUTLER?
Next thing you know, CALAMITY is in the ring with a spear! Jeeves screams like an old hag of a woman as he scrambles out of the ring, meanwhile, our in-the-crowd reporter has decided to lead the crowd thru the Sex Pistols first verse until Insurgent Security rushes in…Calamity bails…and UGH.
“God Save the Queen” – The Royal Commonwealth of the United Kingdom Empire (which is mostly British, you dirty, drunk Irish and Scots. I won’t even count the Welsh because that just sounds like something I develop on my man mushroom after screwing a “Good Catholic girl” there. Good, my ass…well, no not there. YOU GET THE POINT.)NFW WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP MAIN EVENT
NOVA © vs LORD COYNER POLLARD
…
…
Wales sucks
1,500 NEW Yorkers, not that Old York kind are dealing with the British National Anthem and one of the more bitingly annoying British Wrestlers to populate on the scene of New Frontier Wrestling and stick it out long enough to start moving up the rankings slowly. Pollard’s initial goal was to set out for the Television Championship at Wrestlestock 2, now with enough under his belt…all of a sudden, he found himself in the ring for the WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP.
Jason Payne’s biceps probably just leapt out of his arms and slammed his computer on the ground. It only took him FOUR YEARS.
Welcome to the NEW Frontier…and Lord Coyner Pollard got welcomed with about 300 beer cups, which only ignited the crowd more when the security lifted up a tarp with a PRINCE CHARLES PORTRAIT to cover Pollard from the liquid assault!
Pollard got in the ring, Jeeves (looking quite disheveled from his experience) gathered his robe and flag. Pollard asked for a mic to help with the end recitation of the anthem’s last verse (who knew he was a natural tenor?)…but before he could finish.
MUSIC CUT
And we’ve got new music…in fact, Nova’s got new music.
”I got a Thing” – Funkadelic
We’ve got a repeating funk guitar gospel motif going on as strobe lights are flicking and flashing everywhere, the crowd roaring! Smoke starts billowing near the entrance ramp, puffing out of the ringposts as a rainbow of laser lights sway…and BOOM! A blast of pyro and we’ve got the World Champion, NOVA jumping around towards the ring like a coked up hyena smelling a river of gazelle blood. Pollard’s not phased instead he’s grabbing referee Bruce Phillips and pointing at Nova, while the house lights return on and a smoky atmosphere surrounding the rafters area. Although, it was there before Nova’s pyro.
Nova’s in the ring and VERY reluctant to release his title belt into the hands of Bruce Phillips. This takes about 30 seconds of time because Nova asks that he sees some IDENTIFICATION.
WTF? Phillips has his wallet on him…and they DO have NFW referee’s licenses. Coincidentally, you don’t have a choice in becoming an organ donor…otherwise known as “The Kooter Rule.”
Phillips holds up the belt, while Nova stands right beside him waiting to catch it if it falls…then he hands it to a ringside girl, who Nova insists she keep close to her breasts at all times.
The bell rings and Nova’s caught from behind in a waistlock by Pollard ‘cause he’s watching the belt get carried to the timeskeeper’s table. Pollard with a quick takedown out of that and goes quickly for a hammerlock, which Nova quickly jumps to a standing position. Elbows to the face, trying to fight out of it, but Pollard trips him down to the mat and keeps on the hammerlock. Nova up again and backs Pollard into the turnbuckles, Phillips tries to get a break and Pollard uses the moment to crack Nova in the back of the head with an elbow of his own. Crowd booing starts as Pollard reels Nova into a side headlock with a wide smirk.
We do the off the ropes deal, Nova hitting the mat as Pollard hops over him and bounds off the other side. Nova pushes up and catches Pollard with a hiptoss – OR NOT. Pollard holds on and takes Nova down with an armdrag and keeps an armbar on with a knee into Nova’s shoulder for a little icing on the cake.
Nova gets out of it the old fashioned way. With a lot fists to Pollard’s head as he stands up. Pollard’s trying to hold on, loses his grip and manages to fight off Nova with a whipping forearm upper cut that staggers the champ away. Nova turns around and takes a running knee into the breadbasket that bends him over, then the champ finds himself in a butterfly but before Pollard can lift up…Nova’s lifting up and trying to flip him over!
Back Body drop attempt, but Pollard holds on for the loop-de-loop sunset flip counter and we barely register a one count as both wrestlers scramble to their feet after Nova rolls himself out of the pin. BOOM! CLOTHESLINE! Nova slaps the shot in the chest of Pollard and goes for the pin and only registers a one count himself. Nova grabs Pollard, lands a few skull punches as he brings him up and hits a scoop slam. Elbow, Elbow, Elbow, Elbow, Elbow…Nova’s not getting dizzy, but Pollard’s getting schwammered by the dropping elbows and quick spinneroonis to the feet, rinse and repeat by the champ. Nova bounces off the ropes, high elevation elbow for number ten (the crowd can count that high, take that Lord Pollard!) and Nova goes for another pin…just a two count.
Nova brings up Pollard and hooks him for a suplex, but gets things rolling like a joint…for real ‘cause he keeps the chancery hooked in and rolls up Pollard for the Falling Star Suplex! The High-Angle Cradle Suplex gets a two count as Pollard is able to break the bridging pin. However, Pollard’s down and Nova’s stomping his body like it’s on fire. Nova gets him back up, takes him back down with a reverse neckbreaker and gets another two count. Now, Nova’s hitting the zone that Pollard doesn’t want to let out of control. Slingshot Senton by Nova into a standing Moonsault Press! ONE! TWO! Pollard gets his foot on the rope, so Nova starts stomping it.
Pollard grabs the face, gets kicked in the head. Nova picks him up, Backbreaker…and he’s going up to the top rope. And this folks is why I want a butler…somehow and quite miraculously, Jeeves throws the British Flag onto Nova’s head as he stands up. In the confusion of trying to get it off, he spread eagles himself on the top rope with the flag still draped over his head.
Pollard stumbles up and starts climbing the turnbuckles with Nova, hooks him around the head and a how ‘bout this cowboy!? BULLDOG OFF THE TOP. Nova’s flattened under the flag, but he’s quickly dragging Nova up to his feet…and hooking in a Dragon Sleeper with the flag over his head!
At this point, Wildstar is nearly hyperventilating over all the wrestling he gets to talk about at the moment and also correctly points out that both these wrestlers use this hold well, but its Nova’s Caesarian Section version that won the NFW World Title.
Meanwhile, Toombs is laughing his ass off at either Calamity being sent to the Time Out room for 15 minutes, or the referee trying to pull the flag out of the Dragon Lock to no avail. Blindly, Nova tries to get to the ropes, but the smaller Pollard leaps onto his back to try and force him down…and it does to a knee.
Hammerstein starts stomping, clapping, hollering, drinking, smoking, yelling…Nova stands up and does what any Red-Blooded American would do in this situation.
Scare the bejesus out of the Brit by running full-speed, straight-ahead like a bull with no fear. The crowd’s screaming, Jeeves is screaming, Pollard’s screaming and Nova’s shouting “FREEEEEEEEDOM!”
SUICIDE PLANCHA!
…
Toppling over three rows from barreling into the barricade isn’t normal, right?
Toombs breaks out like Keanu, “WHOA.” Wildstar says Nova might be the most suicidal NFW World Heavyweight Champion in history…and his FIRST defense isn’t even over yet. Both wrestlers are motionless somewhere where row 2 used to be as we’ve got 20-plus Insurgents keeping the riled up New Yorkers from doing anything dumb. Actually, they’re more appreciative of being helped up moreso than anything else…take that Nebraska! You and your snooty cornbread handshake lifestyle doesn’t die when it crosses the Missisippi!
Did I mention Phillips gets past 10?
15?
Pollard rolls in and out of the ring as Nova’s not up yet. Pollard takes the opportunity to basically bring the Revolutionary War thematic into New Frontier Wrestling faster than Shawn Hart running from Beau Michaels after spraying Axe on his buttocks.
(And you wondered why we banned dildos?)
Pollard’s ramming Nova’s head into the ring steps, the ring apron, the ring post. Finally, he rolls him back in the ring and follows in…and you can tell Pollard’s getting a little tired as well as frustrated with Nova’s resolve. Pollard takes Nova into the corner and starts waylaying his skull with forearm uppercuts that are sending gobs of spit into the air. Irish Whip, Nova hits the opposite corner and gets his head whiplashed by an incoming leaping back elbow by Pollard. Nova staggers out and Pollard snapmares him over before wrapping Nova in a headlock.
The stomping, clapping and cheering starts again as Pollard’s sticking to the gameplan of wearing down Nova after successive strikes. Nova fights up to his feet, elbow brigade to Pollard’s midsection and the Brit breaks the hold, perhaps getting a little desperate to keep the momentum…runs off the ropes, but gets caught flush in the mouth with Nova charging in with a high knee strike. Pollard staggers around and Nova rushes in hooking in a waistlock – GERMAN SUPLEX! Nova keeps it locked, rolls it around – GERMAN SUPLEX! Nova keeps it locked, rolls it around…Wildstar’s silently beaming as Toombs is rolling the last of the bag.
Nova goes for the third German, but Pollard kicks his right leg back and upwards…just happening to fishhook Nova’s groin in the process. The crowd starts booing, Phillips warns Pollard…he retorts back that Nova’s using German (spit) maneuvers so screw you all, Irish Whip! NO! SHORT-ARM CLOTHESLINE! Nova’s out, the crowd’s buzzing in shock. Pollard drops for the cover, ONE! TWO! NO! Pollard gets in Phillips’ face about a supposed slow count…and the crowd starts booing loudly. Pollard thumbs his front tooth at them and drops down into the STF on Nova.
Sucking the wind right out the Hammerstein, the champion found himself taking on more than he possibly expected in his first defense. Pollard had it locked in being the technically sound wrestler he is, but Nova somehow crawled the distance to the ropes breaking it being the psychotically obsessive freak that he is.
Pollard was getting at his own boiling point in the ring, so he rips up Nova and goes for the Burning Hammer Boleyn Driver, BUUUUUUUT – Nova slips out, lands with Pollard in a front facelock and plants him with a quick Snap DDT! Pollard’s flopping around like a fish out of water, Nova pulls himself up by the ropes…just as Pollard finally gets to his knees. Here comes Nova, bleeding slightly…but wide-eyed and raising his fists.
Pollard starts trying to call a time-out, saying Americans love those those. Nova starts kicking away at him, Pollard’s in the turnbuckles and Phillips starts pulling on Nova, which allows Pollard the opportunity to roll out of the ring. The crowd starts booing as Nova shakes off Phillips and slides out of the ring, right into Pollard’s path! Right hand by the champ! Another right! Another! Another! Another! Pollards on dream street before Nova vaults up and delivers a dropkick that sends Pollard into the crowd! Beers get dumped as does Pollard back over the barricade and into Nova rolling him back in the ring. Nova quickly scaled the top, but Jeeves jumped on the apron and started grabbing at his leg while Pollard used Phillips to drag himself up.
Nova kicked Jeeves off launched off with a flying bodypress, which Pollard pulled Phillips into…so yeah, we’ve got a wreck on the highway and all drivers are down. The crowd’s going wild, nobody knows what to expect as both try to get to their feet…Pollard snipes Nova in the nuts with a low blow.
Trash starts flying as he starts screaming at Jeeves to get a weapon and the butler slides Pollard a chair, which he tosses back in disgust…screaming he’s not some drugged out beggar like the rest of this place. Jeeves gets frantic, he finds the NFW World Title Belt and gets it to Pollard…
The crowd starts buzzing as Pollard kisses the belt and winds up before waiting for Nova to stand up and CRUSH him in the face. The crowd screams because this was apparently a VERY BAD THING.
Nova’s cheek’s are puffing out, there’s blood streaming down the forehead and he asks Pollard “Are you touching MY belt?” Pollard swings again, but Nova ducks under and as they both turn around – Nova with the boot to gut and hits the DYING STAR DROP! (fameasser) Pollard’s out, Nova grabs the belt and rolls Pollard onto his back…
…and this is where when I say things got weird, I mean they got BLOODY.
Nova starts shouting god knows, while pulverizing Pollard’s face with the belt! The crowd doesn’t know what to think ‘cause Nova’s not stopping as Phillips is staggering up and starting to regain his senses. He sees what’s going on for a good five seconds intaking it, but that’s about 15 seconds into this apparent bashdown by Nova who’s completely lost it!
FINALLY and SHOCKINGLY, the bell rings. Nova’s NOT stopping. Jeeves and Phillips can’t stop him as the bell KEEPS ringing, the crowd getting loud. Insurgent security rushes in and it takes somewhere near five of them have to pull off Nova on the barely moving Lord Coyner Pollard. Medical personnel enter, Nova gets dragged away kicking and screaming…and they TOSS him out of the ring.
In what will probably get some hate mail, Nova frantically starts wiping off the World title belt with the British flag, which Pollard sees cross-eyes and starts trying to crawl towards. Nova stands up looking back crazed at Pollard, who’s face is completely covered in blood at this point. Pollard’s yelling about the flag, Nova’s yelling about the belt…
And both have to be kept separated as the show closes out. The crowd starts cheering once they realize its truly over, Nova clutching the title belt to his chest as Pollard’s carried by Jeeves and a few Insurgents – the British Flag draped over his back.
Now, that I’m starting to come down, I’m going to contact “Business Services,” ‘cause in a couple of days…the Madison Square Garden show gets recapped and remembering that night of insanity made need two shamans, one virgin and a sheet of acid.
