Post by PRIME on Mar 10, 2019 21:05:51 GMT -6
LIVE *
WARNING: This live event contains stunts performed by professionals or under the supervision of professionals and maybe unsuitable for younger viewers. Accordingly, EWC and its producers must insist that no one attempt to recreate or re-enact any stunt or activity performed in this live event.
The Extreme Wrestling Corporation presents
EWC PRIME
EPISODE 045
MARCH 10TH 2019
LIVE FROM THE STAMPEDE CORRAL IN CALGARY, ALBERTA, CANADA
EWC PRIME
EPISODE 045
MARCH 10TH 2019
LIVE FROM THE STAMPEDE CORRAL IN CALGARY, ALBERTA, CANADA
EWC PRIME
MONTH DAY, 2019
LIVE! from the Stampede Corral in Calgary, Alberta, Canada
Commentators: Micah Everett and Sandra Amsler
Announcer: Damon Reid
Senior Referee: Niklaus Forbes
Backstage Interviewer: Jenna Salvatore
While 'Could've Been Me' by The Struts blares over the loudspeakers at every locations, golden fireworks light up the sky in a display that shines brightly regardless of it is day or night. Brilliant blue spotlights swirl over the cheering crowds, whipping them up into a near-frenzy of excitement at the show to come.
Cameras flash all around the arena as the Mac-Tron cycles through Prime's roster. Aaron Whalen, Aeon Khronos, Brutus, Carlos Ruiz, Candy, Carrie Samson, El Pablo, Frankie Romono, Freddie Styles, Jonty Kelly, Jordan Sharpe, Khaos, Killjoy Ito, Kristian Bane, Nevaeh, Orion Samson, Richard Garcia, Stitches, Terra Walker, Trixie, and Waylon Graves are all featured. After one final pan over the crowd...
The camera centers on ringside, where Micah Everett and Sandra Amsler sit. As soon as they notice the camera, both commentators smile.
Everett: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and -
Amsler: And everyone else that is watching that says fuck the gender spectrum and its bullshit, welcome to PRIME! I'm Sandra Amsler, and the bespectacled jackass to my right is Micah Everett. Tonight, we've got one Hell of a card for PRIME's last stop before Stranglemania as the G1 rolls on!
Everett: You INTERRUPTED me! Doing the lead-in is my job and you know it, Sandy. For you to run roughshod all over that inalienable right is... ah, why are you holding that pen like a knife?
Amsler: Because if you don't knock off your bullshit, I'm gonna stab you with it.
Everett: ...a-anyway, that VIOLATION aside, before we go into the analysis for the G1 matches to come this evening, let us first touch upon the other matches that are scheduled for one fall. Most important amongst them, of course, is Terra Walker going up against Aeon Khronos, with the winner earning themselves a spot in the match for the Television Championship at Stranglemania!
Amsler: Terra's been on a roll since coming to PRIME, but Khronos is gonna be the toughest challenge she's taken on to date. And speaking of challenges, our opening bout features four competitors from three different brands that are just aching to make an impact as our own Carrie Samson and Kristian Bane square off with FSW's Tyler Quest and RAMPAGE's Owensby Smith in fatal fourway action!
Everett: And for those with, ah, more REFINED tastes, Hope Diamond is also scheduled to compete tonight against Freddie Styles! My analysis dictates that Freddie's chances of winning are about as low as...
Amsler: As you ever getting a date, we know. Maybe this will be the last time Hope annoys the roster with her presence once Freddie beats her ass.
Everett: I don't understand the hatred you have for Hope. She's talented, beautiful, and classy in ways YOU can't ever hope to rival.
Amsler: I'll never be a shallow gold digger, oh woe is me. Anyway, it's time for us to talk about the G1 bouts for this evening. Group A graphic, a-go-go!
Everett: While most of the group has been trading wins and losses so far, Nevaeh and her undefeated streak is the clear leader of the pack right now, and her dominance is only bound to continue as she takes on Jordan Sharpe in our main event of the evening!
Amsler: I wouldn't be so sure about that, Micah. Jordan may have lost in the first round when he squared off against El Pablo, but he's won every round since... and in the process, he's made that second spot in the finals a hotly contested one by accumulating four points. Stitches has got to be feeling the pressure as he goes up against Xavier Reid!
Everett: Reid's right on the bubble of having a chance at making it to the final, a position he shares with his brother, El Pablo. Considering how the bad blood between these two is coming to a boil with them set to meet in the final round of the G1, a win here would be huge for Xavier... though if you ask me? El Pablo's got a far higher chance considering how he's facing Frankie Romono, the undisputed king of losing with his score of zero.
Amsler: Frankie's chances of making it to the final might be borderline impossible, but this is also the guy that defied the odds and was the last man standing on Team PRIME at Stable Wars, so I wouldn't count him out yet! Onward to Group B!
Everett: Carlos Ruiz not only has the highest score of 8 points, but he's also got tonight off thanks to the bye caused by Khaos being injured out of the G1. That means he's gonna be fresh for his bout in Round 5!
Amsler: No one else gets to rest on their laurels, though, as we have ourselves a collision of the best that Australia's got to offer as Jonty Kelly and Richard Garcia square off one-on-one. Richard's got to be eager to get his momentum back after losing the Indy Championship to Carlos, and Jonty's made no secret about his intentions to kick Richard in the head and pick up a win!
Everett: Richard's got a massive weak spot right now, and I think Jonty's gonna capitalize. Speaking of weak spots, the Sugar Crash of 2019 is bound to continue with Candy going up against the REIGNING Television Champion, Killjoy Ito! Sugar Crash of 2019... oh, I do love Tommy Love's wordplay.
Amsler: You WOULD be friends with Tommy. Old creeps of a feather, huh?
Everett: Why you...
Amsler: Stay tuned, everyone! The show's about to kick off huge with some Fatal Fourway action!
Cameras cut to a spot in the backstage area where FSW competitor Tyler Quest is preparing herself for her Prime debut. She is stretching her injured knee when Carrie Samson walks up to her.
Carrie: How is your knee?
Tyler looks up at Carrie with a smile on her face.
Tyler: It's sore but I can still compete.
Carrie: That's good. I wanted to come by and wish you good luck out there.
Tyler gets up to a vertical base as she looks Carrie in the eye.
Tyler: How kind of you! Best of luck to you as well.
Tyler offers her hand towards Carrie. Carrie takes it and they both shake hands. As they inaudibly continue to speak, Evie Clifton can be seen walking past them. She rolls her eyes while not stopping. Carrie and Tyler just watch as the cameras cut back to ringside.
----------------
MATCH 1
<<MULTIPLE BRAND FATAL FOURWAY SHOWCASE>>
---------
OWENSBY SMITH Vs
KRISTIAN BANE Vs
TYLER QUEST Vs
CARRIE SAMSON
MATCH 1
<<MULTIPLE BRAND FATAL FOURWAY SHOWCASE>>
---------
OWENSBY SMITH Vs
KRISTIAN BANE Vs
TYLER QUEST Vs
CARRIE SAMSON
Everett: Our opening match tonight is the multiple-brand exhibition featuring two of PRIME's roster members, and two roster members from elsewhere as Carrie Samson, Kristian Bane, Tyler Quest, and Owensby Smith square of in fatal fourway action.
Amsler: Aw, c'mon Micah... put a little pep into your voice! Three of these talents are up-and-comers that have all been making waves in their own way, and Kristian Bane is -
Everett: More than capable of crushing the rest of these three like the boring insects they are, but he's not been living up to his potential as of late. If ever an opportunity existed for him to dominate, though... this is it!
Amsler: Yeah, I wouldn't count anyone else out here. Tyler's been valiantly fighting through a knee injury, Carrie is hungry to regain the success she had when she was part of the team that took out Hope Diamond and Gabi Vee, and Owensby is itching to get his first win in the EWC!
b]Reid:[/b] The following match is a Fatal 4-Way. Introducing first, from Cincinnati, Ohio, weighing in at 315 pounds... The Bringer of Bane... KRISTIAN BANE!
The arena goes dark, a slow booming sound can be heard and BAM! Pyros shoot off as 'The Vengeful One' blares, the crowd booing the man that is about to emerge. Kristian Bane walks out in front of the crowd before walks methodically to the ring, entering it with the same sort of pace. He waits in the ring for his opponents.
Reid: Now introducing, from Dallas, Texas, weighing in at 119 pounds... CARRIE SAMSON!
Bright lights quickly start floating around the arena as "Roundtable Rival" by Lindsey Stirling begins to play. Carrie Samson saunters out onto the stage with a smile before bouncing down the ramp. She leaps onto the ring apron then jumps over the ring ropes. She continues to bounce around as her music fades, her gaze flickering between Bane and the entrance ramp.
Reid: Now introducing, from Nashua, New Hampshire, weighing 180 pounds... OWENSBY SMITH!
"Tonight" by Seether starts to play and a modest pyrotechnic show begins. Owensby Smith runs out on stage with his valet, Sara Michaels, in tow. Owensby hops, jumps, and skips down the ramp with a high-five for every fan along the way. He does a complete circle around the ring and heads back up the ramp to meet Sara. Her hand in his, the two head back down toward the ring. On the ring apron, now, Owensby climbs up on the turnbuckle, facing outward at the fans, and then back-flips into the ring. Punching the air and bouncing around like a kid hyped up on sugar, Owensby riles up the fans in preparation for his upcoming match.
Reid: Now introducing, from Angel Falls, South Carolina, weighing in at 122 pounds... TYLER QUEST!
"Lose It" begins to play as Tyler Quest suddenly steps through the curtains. She is smiling from ear to ear while waving at the audience. She points to both sides before moving quickly down the ramp, her limp still noticeable. She slides into the ring, flips onto her back and kips up to her feet. She caps it off with a backflip off the corner turnbuckle closest to her.
DING DING DING
Carrie Samson and Owensby locked up quick. Owensby went for a Snap Suplex, but Carrie fought him off with a few Backhand Chops and went for a Dropkick, but Owensby got out of the way. Bane had Tyler in the corner, his boot to her neck. Owensby then nailed Bane with a Running Single Leg Dropkick to the back. Bane turned to face Owensby, they traded punches back and forth until it was evident that Owensby was outmatched for strength. Owensby went down and rolled out of the ring with Kristian in pursuit. Tyler Quest and Carrie Samson locked horns, kneeing each other in the abdomen to try to gain the upper hand. Carrie whips Tyler into the ropes, but Quest came back with a Tilt-a-Whirl DDT and followed up with a Roundhouse Kick once Samson was back up on her feet. Outside the ring, Kristian played drums with Owensby's head as the drumstick. After bouncing his head off the commentator's table and the ring steps numerous times, Bane threw Owensby back into the ring.
Everett: The terrifying power of Kristian Bane is on full display, and the fans are booing out of jealousy!
Amsler: Sure, it's not because he's a massive asshole, but because people are jealous that he's a massive asshole... but enough about Bane. Carrie and Tyler are at each others' throats, and Owensby is stirring on the outside!
Tyler had Samson in a sleeper and she was starting to look a little blue. To prevent the match from ending, Bane broke up the hold. Tyler Quest, annoyed, delivers multiple backhands to Bane, a few Dropkicks, too. Bane, finally starting to falter, turned just in time for The Boot Lick from Owensby! He still didn't go down, so Owensby hit him with a Heavy Heart, and finally he went down. Tyler went to the top rope and she hit The High Noon on Bane! Owensby quickly ejected Quest from the ring so he could pin Bane and take the win!
DING DING DING
Reid: And your winner, via pinfall... OWENSBY SMITH!
Everett: A powerful showing from Kristian Bane, but the numbers game got him in the end.
Amsler: Yeah, the numbers game. That's it. I'm sure his potential will shine through another day. Right past the pigs flying out of his ass.
Everett: Look, patronize me all you want, Sandra, but you watched the same match I did and it took all three of his opponents to take him down. They were concerned, and rightly so.
Amsler: I'm unclear on how Carrie being down from the sleeper hold contributed to Bane's downfall. If you could clear that up for me at some point...actually, forget I said that. The less you say, the better the show will be for all involved.
----------------
MATCH 2
----------------
FREDDIE STYLES Vs
HOPE DIAMOND
MATCH 2
----------------
FREDDIE STYLES Vs
HOPE DIAMOND
Everett: Up next is the match my broadcast colleague has been looking forward to all night, as Hope Diamond takes on Freddie Styles!
Amsler: Oh blow it out of your ASS, slaptwat. Hope needs to go back to FSW where she belongs. She's not worthy of being in a PRIME ring, and everyone knows it!
Everett: And you're over here making words up. Slaptwat. How original.
Amsler: More original than your ability to call a wrestling match without filling it to overflowing with your bias and your creepy old man crushes. Take it away, Reid!
Reid: The following match is scheduled for one fall! First, from Santa Ana, California... HOPE DIAMOND!
'Being Evil Has A Price' plays and Hope Diamond makes her way down the ramp towards the ring. The fans boo her as she mocks them on the way to the ring. She eggs on an unlucky fan as she gets into the ring and holds the ropes for him to join her for a fight. After some ridicule from Hope, she gets into the ring and starts warming up for her match.
Reid: And her opponent, from Atlanta, Georgia, weighing in at 223 pounds... Mr. Ballgame, FREDDIE STYLES!
'Nomads' begins playing and Freddie Styles begins his theatrics at the top of the stage. Styles makes his slow walk to the ring and slowly up the steps. He climbs into the ring and steps on the middle rope, holding his arm high up into the air. He walks over to the corner opposite of Hope Diamond and removes his hood, ready for the match to begin.
DING DING DING
The Prime superstar, Freddie Styles, attacked Hope Diamond quickly, knowing she's been making her rounds on every show she can this year. Trying to take advantage of her wear and tear, he drove her into the mat with a double-arm DDT and then was able to nail her with a quick ATL Stomp as she was getting to her knees. He then tried to follow it up with the Addiction. However, Hope's foot was under the ropes and the move had to be broken immediately. As Hope got up to her feet, Freddie went to nail her with a high-angled spinebuster. But Hope was able to counter that into a DDT. She got a long two-count before Freddie was able to kick out.
Everett: Some great wrestling from Hope Diamond! She truly is a one-of-a-kind gem, just like her namesake.
Amsler: Uh, you ARE aware the Hope Diamond is cursed, right? Maybe we'll be lucky and the curse'll kill you next.
Hope went on the offensive, beautifully turning a drop toe hold into a Texas Cloverleaf. Freddie refused to submit as he finally clawed his way towards the rope and grabbed the bottom rope with his fingertips. As Hope was pulling Freddie to his feet, Freddie drove a thumb right into Hope's eye. As Hope stumbled around the ring shaking her head, Freddie put Hope to the mat with a double-undertook suplex. Freddie went over to the corner and climbed to the top. As he attempted the King of the Fall, Hope was able to get her knees up and drive them right into Freddie's gut. Freddie rolled around the ring in pain as Hope slowly got to her feet. Hope pulled Freddie up to his feet and kicked him in the stomach. Freddie instinctually caught her foot, which Hope turned into an ear-shattering Kanabo Kick. Hope then covered Freddie for the three count and the victory!
DING DING DING
Reid: And your winner, via pinfall... HOPE DIAMOND!
Everett: And just as I expected, Hope Diamond takes this match!
Amsler: Ugh, Freddie... c'mon! You were supposed to take this blond bitch out so she'd sulk out of here like her name was Gabi Vee!
Everett:You were foolish to doubt the expertise I posted on my blog earlier today, successfully predicting this outcome. It's called the Everett Insider. Wait... don't tell me you've never read it.
Amsler: Not in this lifetime, jerkass. I get my news and analysis from people that aren't self-righteous twatwaffles.
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----------------
MATCH 3
<<G1 MATCH>>
---------
EL PABLO Vs
FRANKIE ROMONO
MATCH 3
<<G1 MATCH>>
---------
EL PABLO Vs
FRANKIE ROMONO
Everett: Our next bout of evening sees the diabetes incarnate El Pablo taking on Frankie Romono. I can't wait Frankie to force feed El Pablo some of that disgusting candy.
Amsler: You've got high hopes for a guy who couldn't count to three recently. Frankie is too busy feeling sorry for himself.
Everett: Oh come on, El Pablo hasn't been so hot lately either.
Amsler: I guess so. We'll just have to see who gets the two points tonight.
Reid: The following match is scheduled for one fall! First, from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at 207 pounds... FRANKIE ROMONO!
"Absolute Zero" by Seether plays and out comes Frankie, his expression focused as he ignores the crowd's mixed reaction for him. His disposition is icy cold as he walks to the ring, complete tunnel vision towards his objective leaving his face bereft of expression as he takes his place in his corner and waits for his opponent to arrive and the match to begin.
Reid: And his opponent, from Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing in at 195 pounds... EL PABLO!
Searchlights scan across the stage and over the raucous crowd as 'Freeee (Ghost Town Pt. 2)' by Kids See Ghosts begins to blare from the speakers. As the overdriven guitar of the verse kicks in, El Pablo bursts out through the curtain, tossing a palmful of Skittles into the air. His masked head hides beneath the hood of his self-promoting sleeveless sweatshirt, though a beaming grin is still plainly visible as the Technicolour Tecnico bounces down the ramp towards the ring, bantering and fist-bumping members of the crowd as he goes.
DING DING DING
El Pablo takes it right to the ice cold Sicilian by taking him over with three consecutive armdrags. Frankie ducked under a twisting roundhouse kick and tried for a clothesline but the luchadore dipped under his arm, spun him around, and floored him with a dropkick. Frankie absolutely frustrated with this turn of affairs, exited the ring and decided that this was far from worth it. However El Pablo had different ideas. With a running start, he flew over the top rope and crashed into Frankie with a twisting body splash. El Pablo got to his feet and got the crowd hyped as he reached into his ring attire and threw a handful of Skittles into the crowd!
Everett: That's absolutely disgusting!
Amsler: Who doesn't like crotch Skittles?
The match continued in the same vein. Frankie just couldn't seem to get his footing as El Pablo hammered with one high impact move after another. The Furry Ninja Strike, a springboard roundhouse kick, and The Five Star Express, El Pablo's gravity defying rope walk dropkick managed to both secure two counts. Frankie seemed to get some momentum on his side when he nearly countered a hurricanrana into his RomonoBomb but out of nowhere, El Pablo countered into a sitout facebuster for another nearfall. It all seemed in control as El Pablo rallied his fans to another victory just in hand. He climbed to the top rope and spun off with his R.P.M corkscrew senton - right into Frankie's knees. The crowd audibly gasped as El Pablo slid off Frankie's knees. Romono slung an arm over El Pablo's chest and nearly secured a surprise victory but El Pablo's leg was on the ropes. This only angered Frankie and finally awoke from a slumber. He beat and tortured on El Pablo. Clotheslines, big boots, and devastating throwing suplexes that folded the smaller man in half from the impact. However, he may have took the beating too far when he attempted a bridging Fujiwara armbar and was tripped up and rolled up for painful victory for the luchadore!
DING DING DING
Reid: And your winner, via pinfall... EL PABLO!
Everett: What a load of bullshit. Frankie DOMINATED that match.
Amsler: You're full of it! El Pablo took it to mopey Romono and got the 2 points in the end. Maybe Frankie should come prepared next time to fight and not try to walk away.
Everett: I'd walk away from a freak like El Pablo, too. That's alright, Frankie. Be happy that The Pablo isn't going to walk straight after that beating you put on him. Let's move on, shall we? We need to pay the bills so let's go to commercial.
Amsler: Hey, Micah--have a Skittle! It's yellow... y'know, just like your belly.
----------------
MATCH 4
<<G1 MATCH>>
---------
JONTY KELLY Vs
RICHARD GARCIA
MATCH 4
<<G1 MATCH>>
---------
JONTY KELLY Vs
RICHARD GARCIA
Everett:Coming up next, the G1 rages on as two Melbourne natives square off. Jonty Kelly versus Richard Garcia is up, and this one's gonna be explosive!
Amsler: Jonty has been pissed about his performance in the G1 so far and, considering how Richard just got himself onto the Elite Fifteen, that's got to make the target in the middle of Garcia's back even large--
The lights dim as 'Coming Undone' by Korn hits the sound system... and the thousands in attendance jump to their feet in excitement, roaring in approval of the man that they suspect is about to emerge. After pyros go off all along the entrance ramp and the stage? President Mac himself steps onto the stage, two spotlights focusing in on him as he stands atop the ramp in his signature sunglasses, arms outstretched with clenched fists!
Everett: I don't believe my eyes .. President Mac is here on EWC Prime!
Amsler: Jesus, I can't even hear myself think over the sound of the crowd!
As the lyrics kick in, and the fans sing along, Mac makes his way toward the ring, slapping hands. At ringside, he takes off his sunglasses and gives them to a young fan. Mac pauses in front of the ring and stares out at the capacity crowd chanting his name. He smiles, soaking it all in. Then he walks over to the commentators booth, shakes hands with both Everett and Amsler and pulls up a chair next to them. Before sitting, he stops to pose for the thousands of camera flashes all over the arena then joins the commentators
Mac: Micah, Sandra .. nice to see you! Listen to this crowd ! They are fired up tonight, aren't they?
Everett: Yes... yes, they are. Pardon my French, but what in the Hell are you doing here? Considering how we are only a couple weeks away from Stranglemania, your schedule right now must be insane!
Amsler: I'm sure you're used to having such a busy schedule, but I'm just as curious as my, ah, esteemed colleague is! Did you miss a flight or something to be able to do this?
Mac: Hahahaha,no, not at all! I knew Prime was coming to Canada and I wanted to stop by and lend my support here tonight. It's also been a long ass time since I sat down and helped call a match so, as long as it's good with you two... I'd love to be part of calling this match here tonight!
Amsler: Are you kidding me?! Of course! The indy circuit will be buzzing for weeks about this. We appreciate you coming down here and joining us, Mac.
Everett: Careful, Mac .. it won't be long before Sandra asks for you to appear on her YouTube channel.
Amsler: You see the bullshit I have to deal with?!
Reid: The following match is scheduled for one fall! First, from Melbourne, Australia, weighing in at 225 pounds... JONTY KELLY!
The sound of a bullet being fired echoes through the arena before 'Heavy is the Head' hits the sound system and smoke begins to fill the top of the entrance ramp. Jonty Kelly emerges a moment later with Quinn Perkins, wearing a mouth mask with a bullet between teeth design on it. He stops at the top of the entrance ramp, makes a two finger gun with each hand and fires a shot into the crowd on either side of him, triggering pyro blasts with each motion. After making his way down the entrance ramp, Kelly enters the ring and immediately jumps on a turnbuckle and poses before climbing down, removing his mask and getting ready for the match to come.
Reid: And his opponent, also from Melbourne, Australia, weighing in at 213 pounds... RICHARD GARCIA!
'Live To Win' by Paul Stanley hits as the crowd cheers, smoke billowing through the entrance curtain as the lights dim. The guitar riffs trigger flashing lights as Richard Garcia bursts through the entrance curtain, screaming to the heavens above with excitement and then makes his way down the ramp, slapping the hands of the fans as he passes by. Once Garcia reaches the bottom of the ramp he rushes towards the ring and slides into the ring before climbing up to the nearest turnbuckle and spreading his arms out, eagle-winged and screaming in excitement. Richard jumps off of the turnbuckle and pumps himself up whilst waiting for the bell to sound, his gaze intent on Jonty.
Mac: I'm excited about this one. Garcia has looked mighty dangerous as of late, and just made the Elite Fifteen... but you can't count out the desperate Lethal Weapon in Jonty Kelly. This should be a good battle. Garcia is a man who is passionate about the ring and loves to wrestle, wants to live up to the family legacy while Kelly is all in it for the glory and punishment. Garcia has seven more years of in-the-ring experience so we'll see if that pays off here tonight!
Everett: Mac came prepared... hah, I expected nothing less. Here comes the bell!
DING DING DING
Kelly and Garcia circled each other, both frequently looking towards Mac, almost like they were trying to capture his attention. That quickly shifted when Kelly nailed Garcia with a kick to the stomach. With Garcia doubled over, Kelly whipped him over with a snap suplex. Before Kelly could gain any momentum, Garcia was already back to his feet, and the two traded blows for about several seconds. Garcia eventually got the upper-hand and sent Kelly flying out of the ring with a Missile Dropkick that could be felt at the top of the rafters. The two battled outside the ring for a little bit, with Quinn Collins attempting to get involved to help Jonty Kelly and Jonty repeatedly insisting that he do this on his own, win or lose. Kelly was able to gain some momentum once back in the ring, successfully landing a spinebuster followed by a Tornado DDT. He couldn't get more than a two count as he tried to pin Garcia twice in a span of 40 seconds. Quinn Collins was in the official's face, yelling that the count was too slow, which allowed Garcia to actually get himself back in the match with Kelly distracted and wanting Collins to back away.
Everett: It seems that Quinn's taking a page out of Tommy Love's book... a wise decision, if you ask me!
Amsler: Yeah, well, I didn't, and I don't think it's a good idea at all for her to emulate that slimeball. She's ruining an amazing display of athleticism by both men, and I don't blame Garcia for being pissed off!
Mac: I've got to agree with you, Sandra. I am shocked that Quinn Collins is trying to get involved while I'm sitting right here. I hope she takes the referee's warnings to heart. I have full faith that Garcia will refocus himself and overcome this setback.
Things were pretty even for a few minutes until Kelly caught Garcia with a hard elbow to the back of the head, letting Kelly drill Garcia with Thunder Down Under. Things looked over after the Exploder suplex combo, but Garcia kicked out at two-and-a-half, which enraged Kelly. Kelly continued to beat on Garcia until a miscue gave Garcia the opening he needed. After hitting Kelly with a powerful superkick to the chin, he locked in the Kansas City Missouri Crab. Garcia wasn't mindful of his place in the ring, and when all seemed to be lost for Kelly, he managed to grab the rope, forcing Garcia to break the hold. That was when Collins appeared to hand something to Kelly who reluctantly took it. The ref yelled at Collins again to get away from the ring, banning her from ringside. While this was going on, it was revealed that Kelly had brass knuckles. He blasted Garcia with them, prompting Mac to stand and yell for the ref to turn around, but by then it was too late, as Kelly tossed the brass knuckles, then landed the JK47 which was enough to get him the three count after a grueling match!
DING DING DING
Reid: And your winner, via pinfall ... JONTY KELLY!
Everett: He did it .. Jonty Kelly did it! He pulled off the victory that not many people thought he could, and broke the dry spell that has been haunting him since before the G1 began!
Mac: This match belonged to Garcia on more then one occasion and if I was him, I'd be incredibly upset with how this turned out. He was basically out there fighting two people including a ref that .. well, needs some better training I think. I mean, a win is a win, and both these guys laid it all out on the line .. but I hate it when you need to cheat to win. And tainted as it is, Jonty still has a win to his name.
Amsler: I think Garcia's mush got messed up, or maybe it's his nose. I can't tell from here for sure, but look at the blood in the ring! Richard is gonna be pissed the fuck off when he watches the replay, and I can't blame him for it one bit!
Mac: I'm going to check on Garcia and have a chat with the ref. Thanks for allowing me to be part of the match calling here tonight, you two. I'm looking forward to watching the rest of the show from the fan's perspective!
Mac shakes hands with both before making his way to the ring to see if Garcia is okay. He also has a conversation with the ref, which leaves the ref very red in the face and embarrassed. Mac makes his way up the ramp to the delight of the fans. The camera cuts elsewhere.
The camera cuts to the office space that Marshall Evans has commandeered for himself. PRIME's GM has his iPhone in hand, a smirk tugging at his lips at whatever it is he's reading. As soon as he notices the camera, though? He's tucking it back into his pocket, that smirk transitioning into a dazzling smile.
Evans: Bonjour, Calgary! Sorry about that. FSW's GM and I were discussing the particulars of the Television Championship match at Stranglemania. While I won't give anything away, let's just say that what we've come up with will be interesting for sure.
Another chuckle and Marshall nods, clearly pleased with the new working relationship he's forged with his counterpart on FSW.
Evans: Anyway, I just wanted to make a quick announcement. Carlos Ruiz is off tonight due to the bye he got from Khaos getting injured... and he is going to need that rest because at Stranglemania, he will be facing Candy for the Indy Championship! Now I know that's not a surprise for the fans following the G1 bracket at home, but let me remind you...
Leaning in, Marshall's expression grows a little more serious.[/font]
Evans: Iif Candy wins the Indy Championship for a second time, that means she'll not only get the two points for the win... but she'll also get that three point bonus that will ENSURE that she makes it to the G1 finals! That's a lot of pressure, but frankly?
His smile returns, his faith in these two competitors evident.
Evans: Both Candy AND Carlos Ruiz have proven that they can perform well under pressure, and I know they're not only gonna fight their hardest, but they're both going to do me proud on EWC's grandest stage, reminding the roster and all of our fans that it's a PRIME world... and we're all just living in it.
Marshall nods.
Evans: Thank you for your time... and on with the show!
The camera cuts to ringside after Marshall offers up a parting wave.
----------------
MATCH 5
<<TV TITLE NUMBER 1 CONTENDER'S MATCH>>
---------
TERRA WALKER Vs
AEON KHRONOS
MATCH 5
<<TV TITLE NUMBER 1 CONTENDER'S MATCH>>
---------
TERRA WALKER Vs
AEON KHRONOS
Everett: Our next match has huge Stranglemania implications as the undefeated Terra Walker takes on Aeon Khronos, a man who has an unfortunate history of choking in title matches.
Amsler: Ordinarily, I'd say that one failed attempt at winning a championship when he wasn't pinned doesn't count... but you know what? Aeon's an asshole, so I guess I'll admit that you're technically right.
Everett: Of course you're gonna argu - wait, WHAT?!
Amsler: If you being shocked that I agreed with you on a nitpick is enough to stun you into silence after shouting 'WHAT?!', then I need to stomach agreeing with you more often!
Reid: The following match is scheduled for one fall! First, from Oxford, England, weighing in at 132 pounds... TERRA WALKER!
'Honeysuckle' hits the sound system, the lights going frantic with multiple colors and searching spotlights. When one of those spotlights finds Terra Walker, the crowd raucously cheers for her, forcing her to shove her way free of its grasp. Mounting the announce table, Terra lets rip with a battle cry before leaping off of it and making her way into the ring, pacing back and forth as her eyes remain glued on the top of the ramp.
Reid: And her opponent, from the Edge of Time Itself, weighing in at 180 pounds... AEON KHRONOS!
'Time' hits the sound system, the chiming of clocks and gears filling the arena as the crowd begins booing the arrival of The Time Wizard himself. When Aeon emerges from behind the curtain, he pays the jeering masses no mind as he makes his way down the ramp. Sliding into the ring, he smirks at the cagey-looking Terra as he gets to his feet, his music fading soon after.
DING DING DING
Terra was on Aeon like a terrier would go after a rat the moment the bell rang, the aggressive tactic a clear attempt to negate the size and strength advantage held by the Lord of Time... and at first? It worked, Khronos driven back into the ropes with a series of forearm strikes and low roundhouse kicks. She got one good knife-edge chop while he's against the ropes, but Aeon brought his arms up and wrapped Terra up as he bounced off the ropes, driving Terra into the mat with a bulldog. Once she was down, Aeon started mat wrestling Terra, transitioning from the side headlock to a front facelock, then to a rear waistlock that he rolled into a bridge, but he only got a two count. He shifted back to a front facelock, but Terra was on her hands and knees and was able to slip free, rolling her body and grabbing a hammerlock at the same time. Aeon was quick to push himself up, trying to spin himself out, but Terra stayed on him with fierce determination, and as Aeon was building up momentum to try to get free, Terra planted herself and drove Aeon shoulder-first into the corner turnbuckles!
Everett: Terra is absolutely relentless! It's like she knows that she's trying to surprise a man that knows her next move before she does.
Amsler: Ugh, would you STOP encouraging Aeon's delusions? At least you're right about Terra's mean streak paying off.
Terra was out for blood after the hammerlock corner thrust. She knew Aeon would have trouble with both his best moves without the use of an arm, and she attacked that same shoulder with arm breakers, another hammerlock, stomps while he was down, and a short armbar that Aeon had to get to the ropes to break. Aeon pulled himself into the corner to recover while Terra backed off, cowed by the prospect of losing out on a Stranglemania title match. But when she saw Aeon in the corner, she charged, going for her Landslide knee strike. This proved to be her undoing, as Aeon saw it coming and pulled himself out of the way, leaving her winded as her chest impacted the top turnbuckle. He scrambled to his feet, knowing he wouldn't get another shot, and grabbed Terra for his kneeling Tiger Driver! Thanks to the power of the Time Warp, Aeon got the three-count and a ticket to Stranglemania!
DING DING DING
Reid: And your winner, by pinfall... AEON KHRONOS!
Everett: Terra Walker fought like Hell, but Aeon Khronos proves that time is on his side after all!
Amsler: Terra's aggression cost her, unfortunately! Had Aeon not gotten out of the way at the last possible second, though, this match would've ended differently.
Everett: What you just said supports Aeon's abilities, you do realize.
Amsler: Oh fuck off, Micah. Anyway, no matter how much he irks me, Aeon's earned his place in the Television Championship match at Stranglemania!
The camera cuts to the back inside The Stampede Corral where Xavier Reid is getting ready for his match against Stitches. As his cousin Tlatoani Volando and adviser Nikki Dupree watch on, Tlatoani turns his head sideways as if he is pondering
Tlatoani Volando: What goes through a person's head to make them wake up and say 'hey, I'm going to paint my face like a clown and go out into the world'? I mean seriously, how messed up in the head do you have to be for THAT to make sense to you?
Nikki Dupree: He was attacked and beaten, Tlatoani.
Tlatoani Volando: So he's suffering from trauma to the brain...clearly but how is this guy medically cleared to step into the ring let alone outside a padded room? And don't give me 'it's the indies' as a defense, Nikki.
Nikki was about to say just that but stops as Tlatoani nods
Tlatoani Volando: The guy should be fitted for a straight jacket and not welcomed into Prime with open arms.
Xavier Reid: He's not nuts, Tlatoani... he's a genius.
Tlatoani looks at Xavier.
Tlatoani Volando: Okay, I have to hear this one. Please, enlighten me.
Xavier stops stretching and turns towards his cousin.
Xavier Reid: People like you go into these matches with Stitches thinking he's nuts. They expect him to be sloppy and make a mistake because he's not right in the head, so they sit back and wait...wait for that one moment for him to go off the rails, but that moment never comes, and then they realize they have given Stitches control of the match. And by then, it's over. Me, I recognize the genius in him. By dressing as a clown EVERYTHING he does, every sick twisted disgusting thing is written off because he's dressed as a clown. It gives him free reign to do whatever he wants out there with no recourse for his actions.
Tlatoani Volando: But...
Xavier Reid: No, there are no buts about it. I'm not going to make the same mistake others do when they are facing Stitches. I see him for the man he is. A crazy man couldn't be the 2 time Indy Champion, to have held the TV Championship, to be on the cusp of the FSW Championship. Too many write this guy off. Me, I want to go toe to toe with The Clown. I want to give these fans something they will never forget out there tonight...a war for the ages and leave them not believing what they just saw.
Nikki Dupree: You know it's also not the best strategy to out crazy a crazy person, Xavier. If he indeed gets a free pass for doing things 'normal' people would go to jail for, maybe you shouldn't to one up him out there in that category.
Xavier Reid: That's exactly what I'm going to do. I didn't come to Prime to play it safe...the G1 gives me dream matches like this. We aren't going to see Xavier Reid versus Stitches anywhere else...so why would I hold back and play it safe? I'm here to embrace the indy style so I'll do just that. These people want to see a fight? Well tonight, I'll give them one.
Xavier looks at Tlatoani and Nikki and then exits the room.
Tlatoani Volando: I'm sure this is going to go well for us. Have the doctor on standby, okay?
Nikki shakes her head and then walks off, the camera cutting to ringside soonafter.
----------------
MATCH 6
<<G1 MATCH>>
---------
STITCHES Vs
XAVIER REID
MATCH 6
<<G1 MATCH>>
---------
STITCHES Vs
XAVIER REID
Everett: Well, next up we have our weekly invasion as Nevaeh would put it. Xavier Reid comes down from high for another crack at two points in the Prime G1.
Amsler: How many times have we been over this? Xavier Reid is highly honored to be a part of this tradition. He has been nothing but humble. And besides, why are you crying about Stitches moonlighting over on FSW.
Everett: That family? Humble? Ha! And as for our resident clown, well, it's different.
Amsler: Well, whatever you think, these two are some of the longest tenured stars in EWC and they clash in just moments!
Reid: The following match is scheduled for one fall! First, from The Carnival of Shattered Dreams, weighing in at 260 pounds... STITCHES!
'One Missed Call (2008) Theme' plays as the lights go dark. As the beat drops at around the thirty seven second mark the curtains are brushed to the side, smoke spewing out from behind the curtains, and out walks Stitches. A wide, red-painted Chelsea-esque grin is across the face of Stitches as he stares out at the crowd of people before him.
Reid: And his opponent, from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, weighing in at 220 pounds... XAVIER REID!
The MacTron flickers and the picture of a sky appears on the eve of a storm, the clouds are dark and rolling across the sky quickly and with aggression. The lights inside the arena start to dim, the rumbling of a storm can be heard over the speakers as lighting appears in the clouds. The cracking of lighting grows louder and louder until two strikes hit the stage First from the right and then from the left as 'Papercut' starts to play out. Smoke rises up from where the lightning hit stage as Xavier Reid walks out onto the stage, his arms crossed in a X over his chest as he stands at the top of the stage and looks out towards the ring.
DING DING DING
The two long time and decorated vets started slowly. Unlike many stars here, Reid didn't seem to be phased by Stitches' peculiar looks. It was another day at the office for Xavier as they finally locked up and tousled like two bulls with their horns locked. Eventually, though, Stitches strength advantage won out and he pushed the smaller wrestler into the ropes where the referee was forced to separate the two. Stitches used this chance to jam his thumb in Xavier's eye and take over. Stitches was meticulous in his assault. Vicious knee lifts, submissions that suspiciously looked like chokes, and even when Reid managed to fight out of such a submission with three sharp elbows to the gut - his escape was effectively cut off when he rebounded off the ropes right into Stitches' Beautiful Disasterpiece, a nasty bicycle kick that flattened the former X-Division Champion.
Everett: Mr. Reid better check his Chiclets after that one. Although if Rob Garcia is to believed, he never brushes them anyway.
Amsler: Rob Garcia isn't to believed in any way whatsoever. But yeah, check the front row after that one, dude.
Instead of going for the two count, Stitches opted for more violence. He hit a number of aggressive power moves, capped off by an attempt to smash Reid with a clothesline into the corner. Reid ducked under and sniped Stitches with a quick reverse neckbreaker. He began to fight back, countering Stitches heavy handed punches with quick jabs of his own. Stitches still managed to overpower him and reversed an Irish whip but Reid stopped on a time and flipped backwards and tapped Stitches' skull with the Pele kick! Reid got to his feet and then expressed his frustration by grabbing the clown's arms and then executing the Indy Stomp repeatedly into his face. So much that the referee nearly disqualified Reid. Finally, he shoved Reid away from Stitches. The camera caught Stitches expression after the brutal attack and his teeth were bloody, mixed in with his facepaint. However most horrifying, he smiled. And that is because he knew something we didn't. He used all of that aggression and rage and turned it against Reid as it translated into a fatal mistake. Reid started the X-Tinction combo but right at the buckle bomb, Stitches raked Reid across the eyes, dropped down, and Silenced Reid's comeback with his double arm DDT for the one, two, three!
DING DING DING
Reid: And your winner, via pinfall... STITCHES!
Everett: And just like that the evil clown gets the duke. Look at Reid out there, being so emotional, so unprofessional that he couldn't get it done.
Amsler: Stitches did that. He has a way of worming inside the brain of his opponents. Reid wasn't scared of the clown but he was angry at him. Stitches took that anger and used it against him.
Everett: Look at you, agreeing with me, isn't that sweet?
Amsler: I'm just calling it as I see it. And as I see it now, you're a twerp and will always be a twerp.
As Candy is standing before the camera in the backstage area, she doesn't seem to be her normal cheerful self.
Candy: I hope you enjoyed your laugh at the expense of International Women's Day, Tommy. Because I promise you won't be having another after I defeat your client right before your very eyes yet again tonight. One way or another, I'm going to make sure of that.
She nods.
Candy: Remember I told you that with every negative comment you made, it was only going to make me more determined to get the job done. Well, your client now has a lot to answer for. Since you went all out for this one. I think it's kinda funny you think I'm stuck in 2018, when you're still stuck on what I did for a living well before I arrived in EWC to make a point. Bravo!
She claps momentarily.
Candy: As if that hasn't been done countless times already. But hey, if that's the way you want to do things, more power to you. Though I promise it's something Killjoy will be thanking you for after this is all said and done. Because the only thing that will be crashing tonight is his hopes in the G1. Candy, however, will rise to the occasion just like I have so many times before.
Her tone is confident as ever.
Candy: So I hope you're ready for your next Candy Crusher. It's about to come your way!
As Candy walks out of view, the scene begins to fade.[/font]
----------------
MATCH 7
<<G1 MATCH>>
---------
CANDY Vs
KILLJOY ITO
MATCH 7
<<G1 MATCH>>
---------
CANDY Vs
KILLJOY ITO
Everett: Up next, the Great Sugar Crash of 2019 continues as Candy walks into what is certain defeat against the Television Champion, long may he reign!
Amsler: Tommy and Killjoy both should be counting their lucky stars that this wasn't booked as a title defense because Candy would LOVE to relieve Killjoy of that ill-gotten gold. Killjoy's not gonna be a champion worth a damn until he wins a match by his own merits!
Everett: What are you talking about?! Killjoy's won everything on his own!
Amsler: Yeah, right, and monkeys are gonna fly out of your butt.
Reid: The following match is scheduled for one fall! First, from Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing in at 106 pounds... CANDY!
Just as "I Want Candy" by Aaron Carter starts to play throughout the arena, fans immediately start to cheer as Candy emerges from the back all smiles as she does a little dance at the top of the stage. After her name is announced, Candy begins skipping her way down the aisle as she tags the outstretched hands along the way. She circles half the ring before climbing up on the apron. As she takes a seat on it, Candy blows a kiss into the crowd. She then lays back and rolls into the ring under the bottom rope. Once she's on her feet again, Candy plays to the crowd until her music subsides, her expression growing focused as she awaits the arrival of her opponent.
Reid: And her opponent, from Tokyo, Japan, weighing in at 235 pounds and joined by Tommy Love... he is the Television Champion, KILLJOY ITO!
'Deeper Deeper' begins to play as a single white spotlight hits the stage where Killjoy Ito is standing, his back facing the ring and his arms out to either side. The white light turns gold as gold confetti falls from the ceiling. Ito swings around to face the camera and the ring as Tommy Love joins him, 'Love Stick' in hand. Tommy points to the Television Championship around the Killjoy's waist and smiles before leading the way down to the ring. Tommy enters first, taunting Candy and the referee both as Killjoy enters behind him. After a final parting shot at Candy, Tommy assists his client in removing both his jacket and his title before exiting the ring.
DING DING DING
There was no feeling out process between Killjoy and Candy, not with as many times as they've faced off in the past. Instead, Candy was quick to put a stop to Ito's speedy offensive salvo by matching him in the first couple dodges, then catching him from behind with a bulldog that smashed his face into the mat after using her own speed to catch him unawares! Tommy was having himself a fit on the outside as Candy kept punishing Killjoy, the display of the former Undisputed Champion's in-ring prowess capped off by a particularly stiff forearm smash bringing Killjoy to his knees, a position that she was quick to take advantage of with her Candy Blast! Her take on the foxy buster got Candy the first two-count of the match, Ito looking a little dazed as he sat up. Tommy, more than a little red in the face, screamed at his client to shake the cobwebs out and get back into the fray before hurling some choice words in the Sweet Treat's direction. Candy ignored Love's bluster in favor of keeping her attention solely on Killjoy, the Sweet Treat continuing to keep the pressure on her opponent!
Everett: How DARE Candy pay Tommy Love no mind?! The man is a veritable legend!
Amsler: The only thing he's legendary for is being a legendary pain in the ass, both for Killjoy's opponents and the integrity of professional wrestling as a whole. Candy ignoring his bullshit is the right call.
Ito caught his first break almost by accident, falling out of a second attempt at a Candy Blast and sweeping Candy's leg. But as soon as it happened, Tommy's shouting made sure he noticed and was on Candy in a second, keeping hold of her leg as he lifted it, and the other, then jumped through to stomp Candy in the stomach. After that Killjoy was off to the races, forearm strikes and low roundhouse kicks and a dropkick as Candy shot off the ropes from an Irish Whip. Candy tried to slip out of several attacks, but she couldn't stay out in front forever, as she reversed out of a Falcon Arrow, landing on hands and feet, only for Killjoy to immediately twist around to nail her in the face with a corkscrew roundhouse. As if that didn't jar her enough, he immediately ran for the ropes as Candy scrambled up and was able to come back and hit the Killshot in the same spot he kicked her in before she could recover. After that, the three count was academic.
DING DING DING
Reid: And your winner, via pinfall... KILLJOY ITO!
Everett: HA! That win, right there, is a big middle finger to all the people that say that Killjoy didn't get to where he is today by his own merits!.
Amsler: That's the thing, Micah. No one denies that Killjoy is talented. They just have a problem with how often Tommy CHEAPENS that talent by sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong!
Everett: Candy's got zero momentum going into Stranglemania and her rematch for the Indy Championship, and Killjoy's got a full head of steam. There IS justice in the world!
Amsler: Oh shut the fuck up, Micah. Seriously.
From the backstage area of the Stampede Corral, Nevaeh is seen standing in front of the camera as she strokes the head of her sledgehammer.
Nevaeh: Gotta say Jordan, I was kinda amused watching you trying to play the tough guy!
She smirks.
Nevaeh: But I did learn something as I saw you take a swing with that sledgehammer.
She pauses for dramatic effect.
Nevaeh: You simply don't have it in you. That half-hearted swing you gave. Where do you think that's going to get you? Absolutely nowhere!
She rolls her eyes.
Nevaeh: Not that you were ever going to get anywhere anyway. Because the moment that bell rings, you are going to see how much that G1 score means to me. How far I'm willing to go to keep it. Make no make about it, I'm going to tear you apart the first chance I get. And when I take that final shot to finish you off?
All of a sudden, Nev swings at the wall behind her.
Nevaeh: I won't even feel bad for NOT missing my mark in the Main Event tonight!
Nev smirks as she walks off, showing the cracks in the wall as we fade.
SINGLES MATCH
<<G1 MATCH>>
NEVAEH Vs
JORDAN SHARPE
Everett: We've made it to another main event, Sandra.
Amsler: I didn't think you'd make it this far with both your testicles still intact. I guess miracles are possible.
Everett: That amazement goes both ways, I'm afraid. It feels almost as surprising as having a main event not for the Indy Championship at this point.
Amsler: It is the industry standard, as I'm quickly learning not to assume you're aware of, so try to get used to it. Here, I'll throw it to Damon so you can start collecting pieces of your mind from where it got blown to.
True to her word, the camera cuts to Damon Reid in the middle of the ring.
Reid: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is a G1 Classic match!
"Mein Herz Brennt" hits the speakers and the crowd starts cheering for Jordan Freakin' Sharpe as he emerges from behind the curtain. He smiles to the crowd with passion in his heart and fire in his eyes as he starts heading down the ramp.
Reid: Introducing first, from Woodstock, New Brunswick, weighing in at 220 pounds, Simply the Best...Jordan Freaking Sharpe!
Sharpe is fired up and doesn't even bother with the ring stairs, sliding under the bottom rope into the ring. He pops up to his feet and heads for one of the hard cam turnbuckles, pulling himself up to the second rope and leaning out towards the crowd, arms waving wildly as he does his best to get the crowd fired up. Luckily, he doesn't have to work hard. These fans know where he's from.
Everett: It wasn't so long ago that Jordan Sharpe seemed like a man at the end of...his rope.
Amsler: I'm glad you're learning. I could tell you were practicing your mindfulness there, because you stopped yourself from saying something that would have put you at the end of a rope. Please continue.
Everett: But after stringing together some wins, most recently against Stitches, a former Indy Champion in his own right, the passion is back in full force.
Amsler: It's been real refreshing to see someone able to build themselves up in a business tailor-made to tear people apart. But as much as I'm rooting for him to keep his streak going, this might be his tallest task yet.
Once "Gasoline" by Porcelain and the Tramps is heard, Nevaeh comes walking out from the back to a chorus of boos. But judging by the smile on her face she doesn't seem to mind. As she makes her way down the aisle, Nevaeh does her best not to let anyone touch her long the way.
Reid: His opponent, from Las Vegas, Nevada, now residing in Toronto, Ontario, weighing in at 124 pounds...Nevaeh!
After walking up on the ring apron, Nevaeh will strike a pose and give her backside a little shake before stepping between the ropes. Once inside, she'll mouth off to the fans and pace the ring a bit as she waits for the match to begin.
Everett: Is it too early to pick a favorite to win the whole thing?
Amsler: I feel like it's a little late, actually. But you've already made your interest in Nevaeh painfully, disgustingly clear, so I'm just going to go out on a limb and guess it's her?
Everett: Ha! Wrong again, Amsler, it's Nevaeh.
Amsler: I've given up on you listening to me, but sometimes I feel like you're not even hearing me. Or yourself, but if you heard yourself you'd probably cringe your whole body out through your asshole, so that part's obvious.
Everett: I'm sorry, I wasn't listening. But I assume you were disparaging Nevaeh based on simple jealousy, which wasn't worth absorbing. Shall we call the match we're paid to?
Amsler: I'd love to call the match we're paid to, and I'd love it even more if you were calling the same one. Are you synced back up with this reality yet, or should I stall for time?
It's even odds on whether he's ready, but regardless, Niklaus Forbes is calling Nevaeh and Sharpe together, so ready or not, it's go time. He explains the rules and the stakes, as per usual. Sharpe listens attentively while Nevaeh flips her hair over her shoulder. As soon as he's finished and he's satisfied that things are as clear as they're ever going to be, he steps back and calls for the bell.
DING DING DING
Everett: The bell has rung and it's time for action. Satisfied?
Amsler: Not even remotely, but I take what I can get.
Nevaeh and Sharpe walk forward and meet in the center of the ring. Despite being several inches shorter and nearly half the weight of Sharpe, Nevaeh is fearless. She mouths off to Sharpe, and while it's impossible to hear, Sharpe is obviously not happy to hear what she says. He's even less happy when she slaps him straight across the face. The crowd boos as Sharpe's head whips back from the force of it. Before he can turn his head back, Nevaeh is turning around and winding up for a spinning backfist, but Sharpe catches the motion in his peripheral vision and ducks under the strike, grabbing Nevaeh for a spinebuster that carries through her momentum for extra impact! He quickly transitions into a pinfall, hooking a leg as he shifts into position.
1...
Nevaeh kicks out almost immediately. Even through the pain in her back that has her arching her body to take weight off of it, her face shows more annoyance than anger. She flops onto her stomach to make herself unpinnable, but Sharpe just comes in with a front facelock to keep up the pressure. He starts to pull her up to grab her arm to make things a little more secure, but as he does so, Nevaeh proves why that's important as that arm reaches up, grabbing blindly for his face. It's not quite where she thought it would be, but her wild flail still results in a finger getting jabbed into one of his eyes, and the surprising impact is enough to send him reeling back, letting go instantly as he reaches up to check that his eye hasn't been damaged. The crowd howls with boos, but Nevaeh is smirking as she pushes herself up.
Everett: It's clearly unpopular with the crowd, but that eye jab was just what the doctor ordered for Nevaeh. With her size disadvantage, she can't afford to let Sharpe wrestle her on his terms.
Amsler: I hate agreeing with you, but part of that statement was true. Still, the maneuver is profoundly illegal and if she's not careful, in addition to pissing off this passionate crowd even more, she might find herself giving this match, and the points associated, away.
Sharpe has recoiled his way back to the ropes as he gingerly pokes his face around his eye. He is satisfied that he's suffered no major damage, and just as he determines this, Nevaeh rushes in, nailing him with a spear that drives both of them through the ropes and down to the floor! Forbes immediately admonishes her for such a maneuver, particularly because Sharpe was still on the ropes at the time, but Nevaeh pays him no mind as she pulls herself up. Sharpe is starting to get up, but Nevaeh has the upper hand as Forbes starts to count.
1!
2!
Nevaeh is stalking behind Sharpe as he gets up. At the instant his feet are both under him, she charges forward, driving her shoulder into the back of his knee. Her weight isn't enough to make him fall backwards, but he'll wish it was, because what happens instead is his knee buckles and he falls forward, slamming his face into the steel steps!
3!
4!
The crowd is booing intently as Nevaeh smirks, first down at Sharpe, then out at the booing fans, then up at Forbes as he shouts at her to try to corral her back into the ring. She does listen to him and roll back in, but it's clear just from her expression that it's because she wants that countout victory, not because she respects the rules.
5!
6!
Sharpe is still down and gingerly touches his forehead this time. There's going to be a bump, but he isn't bleeding, so he starts pushing himself up once again. He's visibly woozy, but he's determined not to let this match get past him. Nevaeh is leaning back against the far ropes, broadcasting supreme confidence.
7!
Sharpe slides sluggishly under the bottom rope just before the count of eight, and as he does, Nevaeh pounces, raining stomps down on the back of Sharpe and earning more boos from the Alberta crowd.
Everett: Nevaeh doing an excellent job of negating Sharpe's size advantage so far. You're the same size as everybody else when you're on your back.
Amsler: First of all, he's not on his back. Second of all, her "excellent job" is a series of illegal maneuvers that Niklaus is being very generous in letting slide. Third of all, the trainer is going to have a full plate checking on Sharpe tonight, but if he doesn't want to peel Jordan off the canvas, Sharpe's gotta' get some offense in, fast.
Sharpe has similar ideas. As he's struggling to push himself up, he wraps his feet around the bottom rope, forcing another break. This one Nevaeh seems prepared to respect, if only begrudgingly. This gives Sharpe the opportunity to pull himself up while in the ropes. Nevaeh seems opportunity while he's in the ropes, and despite Forbes' continuing protests, she strides over. She slaps Sharpe again, whipping him around, and she uses that opening to wrap her legs under Sharpe's arms to do a Tarantula stretch, but she only gets one foot hooked before Sharpe grabs at her other leg, shoving roughly to send her tumbling over the top rope. The crowd cheers, though briefly, as Nevaeh catches herself before she falls to the floor. She launches a forearm strike to Sharpe as he turns around, staggering him. He teeters, head lowering, and Nevaeh launches herself over the top rope. She looks like she was going for a sunset flip, but Sharpe is quick to adjust his position to grab her in a powerbomb position! The crowd cheers louder as he lifts her up to full powerbomb height, turning as he does so to face the ring. He takes a step forward, then plants Nevaeh with a sitout powerbomb! Forbes rushes into a cover.
1...
2...
Nevaeh gets a shoulder up! Sharpe is frustrated, but not surprised, and he shoves Nevaeh away for distance as he plans his next move.
Everett: What happened? You we--I mean, Nevaeh was in control of this match! She had things well in hand.
Amsler: As do you, no doubt, but Sharpe has been around the block a few times, very much unlike you. He's proven he can get himself out of situations over the last few weeks. Nevaeh wasn't going to get her points that easily.
Nevaeh is pushing herself up, teeth gritted in a furious grimace, but Sharpe doesn't give her the chance to stand before kneeing her in the face to send her shooting upright. He then lays into her with a combination of elbow strikes, forearms, and an occasional knee strike to the shoulder when she tries to double over again. When she tries to turn away to fend off the strikes, he brings his arms up under her armpits and tries to lock in the Full Nelson that leads to his Sharpeknife! The crowd cheers, then boos as Nevaeh desperately fights her way out of that predicament. Sharpe is able to quickly shift gears, however, keeping one arm in place and grabbing one of Nevaeh's flailing arms out of the air, pulling it back against her throat before pulling her entire body down across his knee in a Cobra Clutch backbreaker! He shifts his grip again and lifts her a bit so she's standing, then drops her in a reverse DDT! He pulls her away from the ropes and covers her as the crowd cheers over him.
1...
2...
Nevaeh kicks out! She's obviously stunned after that combination, but she had the presence of mind to save the match for herself. Sharpe rubs his face a bit as he pulls himself away this time, taking center ring and watching to see if Nevaeh will put herself into position for his Freakin Boot.
Everett: Nevaeh showing the determination and resilience of a champion there, kicking out of that nasty combination from Jordan Sharpe there.
Amsler: She also showed her ass--
Everett: Yes, she did...
Amsler: --gross. She also showed her ass, though. She seemed pretty confident that she could beat Jordan, but the instant she felt him going for the Sharpeknife, she went into full on panic mode.
Everett: You're saying you wouldn't be anxious if you were in the clutches of a loose cannon like him?
Amsler: Of course not. But I wouldn't have a facade of supreme confidence to drop at the first sign of trouble, either.
Everett: At what point did Nevaeh say she was "supremely confident" in victory?
Amsler: She never said it with words, but she said it with actions, a distinction I'm not surprised escapes you. Do you even know there's promotional material for this show, let alone watch it?
While the announce team was bickering, Nevaeh was pulling herself up with the help of the ropes while Sharpe collected himself in the middle of the ring. Almost as though she is hearing the announce team, Nevaeh snorts as she staggers over to the corner to lean against it to recover. Then she immediately dives out of the way as Sharpe rushes in, aiming his Freakin Boot at her face! He misses, crotching himself on the top rope. Nevaeh turns to see Sharpe pulling himself gingerly off the ropes, and she rushes in, wrapping her legs into place and yanking herself forcefully over the top rope to cinch Sharpe in place, grabbing his legs and stretching him out across the ropes! Sharpe is in visible agony as he is All Tied Up, but Forbes is quick to count, as this is about as far from a legal submission hold as it is possible to get.
1!
2!
3!
4!
At the last possible moment, Nevaeh releases the hold, allowing Sharpe to fall forward to the canvas. As he struggles to push himself up, he turns his body so he can reach for the ropes to help him get up. That seems like a tactical error, as this is definitely the position Nevaeh wants him to be in to sunset flip over the top rope, but when she launches herself over and grabs him for the sunset flip, Sharpe rolls through the backwards momentum, getting quickly to his feet. He charges forward, attempting an improvised version of the Freakin Boot, but Nevaeh shoots down to her back to dodge. As Sharpe charges past her, she kips up, but Sharpe is there with another attempt at a Full Nelson facebuster. Nevaeh keeps her cool this time, and as Sharpe brings his leg forward to sweep her, she actually jumps up, flipping over Sharpe's head to escape the Full Nelson. While he has no grip on her, she grabs an arm, winds up for momentum, and pulls him back with all her might, her knee waiting to impact with Sharpe's neck! The crowd boos as she quickly hooks the leg.
1...
2...
3!
DING DING DING
Reid: Here is your winner, by pinfall...NEVAEH!
Everett: And Nevaeh's beautiful, amazing perfect record here in the G1 remains intact! I knew she would pull off this win with ease.
Amsler: Were... you weren't watching the same match I was. You couldn't have been. Jordan Sharpe put up one fucking Hell of a fight, and he almost shattered Nevaeh's face along with that record you won't shut up about!
Everett: Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, Sandra. You know that.
Amsler: Ugh, I wish you'd sit on a grenade so I could pull the pin and be rid of you once and for all.
Everett: And now, after that TRIUMPH of a match, let's have a look at the updated G1 groups!
Everett: With only one round left to go, only really two people are shoo-ins for the finals. One of them is the amazing and talented Nevaeh, and the other is... just Carlos Ruiz.
Amsler: JUST Carlos Ruiz?! He's the Indy Champion who is just as undefeated as your precious Nevaeh! And while the likelihood of both of them making the final IS indeed high, they both have their greatest challenges ahead of them... and you lucky fans at home will get to see how Carlos fares against Candy at Stranglemania!
Everett: Indeed they will, Sandra. Indeed they will. Strangelemania will be a show for the ages... even if I'm not going to be a part of the broadcast team for it due to what is surely an accidental oversight.
Amsler: Not my fault you're not cool enough to sit at the cool kid table.And on that note, the time has come for us to say goodbye. On behalf of everyone here at PRIME, this is Sandra Amsler wishing you all a wonderful evening. Take care!
© THE EXTREME WRESTLING CORPORATION 2019
END SCREEN
RESULTS SUMMARY/CREDITS
OWENSY SMITH VS. KRISTIAN BANE VS. TYLER QUEST VS. CARRIE SAMSON
WINNER: OWENSBY SMITH
WRITER: OWENSBY SMITH
FREDDIE STYLES VERSUS HOPE DIAMOND
WINNER: HOPE DIAMOND
WRITER: DOMINIC SANDERS
EL PABLO VERSUS FRANKIE ROMONO
WINNER: EL PABLO
WRITER: FSW
JONTY KELLY VERSUS RICHARD GARCIA
WINNER: JONTY KELLY
WRITER: PRESIDENT MAC
TERRA WALKER VERSUS AEON KHRONOS
WINNER: AEON KHRONOS
WRITER: OPTIMUS PRIME
STITCHES VERSUS XAVIER REID
WINNER: STITCHES
WRITER: FSW
CANDY VERSUS KILLJOY ITO
WINNER: KILLJOY ITO
WRITER: OPTIMUS PRIME
NEVAEH VERSUS JORDAN SHARPE
WINNER: NEVAEH
WRITER: MEGATRON
SHOW MVP: KILLJOY ITO
SEGMENTS SUBMITTED BY:
TYLER QUEST/CARRIE SAMSON
XAVIER REID
CANDY
NEVAEH
END SCREEN
RESULTS SUMMARY/CREDITS
OWENSY SMITH VS. KRISTIAN BANE VS. TYLER QUEST VS. CARRIE SAMSON
WINNER: OWENSBY SMITH
WRITER: OWENSBY SMITH
FREDDIE STYLES VERSUS HOPE DIAMOND
WINNER: HOPE DIAMOND
WRITER: DOMINIC SANDERS
EL PABLO VERSUS FRANKIE ROMONO
WINNER: EL PABLO
WRITER: FSW
JONTY KELLY VERSUS RICHARD GARCIA
WINNER: JONTY KELLY
WRITER: PRESIDENT MAC
TERRA WALKER VERSUS AEON KHRONOS
WINNER: AEON KHRONOS
WRITER: OPTIMUS PRIME
STITCHES VERSUS XAVIER REID
WINNER: STITCHES
WRITER: FSW
CANDY VERSUS KILLJOY ITO
WINNER: KILLJOY ITO
WRITER: OPTIMUS PRIME
NEVAEH VERSUS JORDAN SHARPE
WINNER: NEVAEH
WRITER: MEGATRON
SHOW MVP: KILLJOY ITO
SEGMENTS SUBMITTED BY:
TYLER QUEST/CARRIE SAMSON
XAVIER REID
CANDY
NEVAEH