NFW Brawl KC

The last days of spring.

SIRIUS XM RADIO Channel 420 crackles on the radio and we’re rolling down the roads of Kansas City, Missouri. Or maybe you’re in some cubicle on the internet, drinking your coffee and pretending to get work done that requires half your brain.

"Breathe" by Pink Floyd as Sean Toombs’ overbaked giggling crackled as "Manchurian" Wayne Grossard’s voice jubilantly welcomed us to the Kemper Arena. After thanking Eddie Mayfield, the Wellness Program and his pharmaceutical breakfast we were pleased to know that joining Toombs and Grossard for the evening…was apparently Jimmy Mylde.

Well, the beauty of house shows is apparently the…ease of which anyone with a press pass can situate themselves during an NFW Brawl house show broadcast.

Now, I suppose it should be something to admit that while you’re driving the backroads of Missouri…you’re drinking. Of course, I suppose it’s somewhat obvious that the only thing really to do in Missouri is eat some sauced up ribs…and drink. So, NFW’s lazy date spring schedule or "slow, methodical draining of the human catlitter brains" currently swarming NFW according to Grossard…

…brings us to…

Well, if a man knows how to lead our congregation towards the summer months, it’s Don Henley.

DORCHESTER STRATTON. VERONICA ABRAMS RUMSFELD.

What some are calling the most annoying couple since Romo/Simpson made their way to the ring with wide smiles on their faces. ‘Dirty Laundry’ couldn’t drown out anything as Stratton got on the mic and berated the fans for their anger at him…I think Veronica then took the mic to explain how their miserable 401(k) choices had led to their own demise. Good thing I’m in a union.

And how are these two broken up?

THREE WORDS:

P. KING DUK.

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. THIS TIME HE’S GOT IT! I FEEL THE DUK WIN TONIGHT! Well, you may be a little more ignorant than I’m used to encountering out here on the wide, wide roads of America. Angered by the fact that Duk had even graced the ring, while his woman was still talking…well, Stratton broke through Duk’s kendo stick exercise with a massive clothesline that flipped Duk out like a Nascar wreck! Stratton stomped, Rumsfeld yelled at how Duk’s continent needed to perk back up the commodities market…and then Duk felt the brunt of a vicious snap suplex. Some unnecessary choking and a lightning fast DDT left Duk basically…left for dead.

Which Stratton accentuated with the CREDIT CRUNCH! (Package Piledriver) An easy three count followed and Dorchester Stratton’s transformation had proved victorious tonight. Jimmy Mylde managed to wonder if this was going to mean Duk wouldn’t be able to deliver food to his hotel later. Or at least his teenage sister for one of Castor Strife’s films.

Sometimes, you find yourself in a cultural situation that the world never counted on happening due to the lack of perception in the area of human evolution or genetic crossbreeding. So, when I say that two wrestlers named Phil Atken and Captain Conga decided to "lace ‘em up," you can pretty much already see exactly what the hell I was just talking about.

Conga was out first, Atken and crew (Dirk w/ Helga) came out second and the fans were immediately not sure they wanted to cheer for either men. Atken was pitied for his continual heel chicanery in the face of some of the most dangerous NFW matches. Meanwhile, Conga…well, the dude’s name is Captain Conga. You don’t get on the USA Cartoon Express unless you’re a certain age…and let’s just say we weren’t in the kitchen eating cereal on Saturday morning right now.

The Spanish Suplex machine without a suplex anywhere on his NFW biography page immediately launched into assault mode from the opening bell. Leaping forearms, a few dropkicks and a chest-lashing chop sent Atken packing over the top rope. Conga kept on the offensive hitting a suicide dive. This angered Helga, who had to be held back by Dirk while Jimmy Mylde worried if Castor would get distracted with a couple the likes of Dirk/Helga in attendance tonight.

Sean Toombs took a bong hit to comprehend that moment, while M. Wayne Grossard vocalized his opinion that Helga should be wellness tested. He also figured Conga would fail since he comes from the streets.

Conga kept the offensive going hitting a neckbreaker, but then missed a Guillotine Legdrop off the top. Atken was able to follow that up with a crowd groaning accentuated Inverted Atomic Drop, which had Conga primed and ready to eat a running kneestrike that knocked him through the middle ropes…that Dirk happened to be holding down via his spy skills on cable wires.

Natually, this allowed the most dangerous person at ringside…Helga…to blast Conga not only with a size 15 boot to the head…but a massive headbutt with her Viking helmet on. That practically flattened Conga, who barely beat a countout. Atken quickly started trying to….*gasp* wrestle. Stomping on the knee, driving an elbow on it…even hitting a kneebreaker! Someone had a heart attack, I think it was Calamity while Grossard actually started throwing his support behind Atken. Atken went for the figure four, but got small packaged up and almost pinned. Both scrambled up and Conga hit a sunset flip for a near pin as well…and then hooked a backslide on Atken for a near fall, but Atken flipped over and smacked Conga in the chin with a running side elbow. Conga was down again, Atken climbed the turnbuckles but missed a flying bodypress since Conga rolled out of the way. Atken stumbled up, kick to the gut and a Gutwrench Powerbomb…and another two count.

Conga scaled the turnbuckles, Atken conked out in the middle of the ring…and that’s when Dirk tried climbing up after him. Conga pushed him off, but Helga caught him…otherwise he might have died. All that allowed Atken time to shake the ropes and cause Conga to crotch himself over the top turnbuckles. The crowd groaned, Jimmy Mylde screamed about Conga shooting blanks for the rest of his life…and Atken grabbed him…TOP ROPE DDT! Atken covered, he hooked enough tights that if Conga had a tattoo of the Puerto Rican flag…all of the fans would’ve known.

I don’t know if he does…

…but Atken got the win with the three count, making impressive amends against Conga…who seemed overwhelmed by the interference outside the ring.

By Presidential orders, at least according to M. Wayne Grossard, it’d been decided that Impulse would defend his Television title on a DVD-taped house show, which gave NFW the right to put the title on the line…since it would be watched on television.

Thank god I was high to understand that.

Of course, under those same orders, Impulse was to defend his "garbage wrestling, bat-wielding, spotfest" title against someone that fit the mantra of the title. So after Impulse had come out with his belt and listened to this speech (Mylde heckling for your icing…)

…where was I?

Oh yeah. Cary Turkington walked out…drunker than an Irishman born in a pool of whiskey built by homeless Scots. Somewhere, Lord Coyner Pollard is pale and vomiting now. Regardless, Impulse didn’t look too happy about the situation, but that didn’t deter him from the point at hand once the bell rang. Mylde left the booth to not only encourage Turkington, but also to…well…lay into Impulse’s lack of numbers in the 18-35 demographic that drives the business.

Meanwhile, Impulse completely decimated the drunk Turkington. Dodging some roundhouses and timing out some spinning elbow strikes and a headcracking enziguiri to Turkington’s face…well, this one was ending quickly…

...and that’s when something weird happened. Something…quite weird. I’m not going to go into it, but if this submission gets through to the mothership…it’s also DEFINITELY going to make the DVD.

M. Wayne Grossard promised that at the end of the show and as much as I don’t like the sides he’s chosen…he’s not one to lie to me. Or is he?

(FRONTIERtron: A black and white picture counts down in circled numbers from 5…4…3…2...1...and we’ve cut to the set of a film where PROBLEM CHILD is seen laying on a Queen-sized bed, NAKED…with only a fig leaf band tied around his waist hiding his penis from full view. Next to him is an older looking transvestite with five o’clock shadow pasted on his/her face, wearing a skimpy mini-skirt outfit and hair extensions. The name ‘ROSE’ has been written into his/her chest in black ink. Red lipstick is smeared all over his/her lips. In the background, CASTOR V. STRIFE can be heard barking orders. He addresses the camera which turns to him; he’s sitting in a Director’s chair with a red beret on his head)

CASTOR: Hello Impulse, it is I…Castor V. Strife, otherwise known as your mentor, savior, and spiritual advisor. Oh but don’t let me disturb you! Continue with your match, we’re just filming here. OK! Everybody in position? Great! "FORBIDDEN IMPULSE" FINAL act, FINAL scene! Aaaaaaand…ACTION!

TRANNY ROSE: "So now that you have me here, all alone, what are you gonna do to me Randall?"

PC: "Well, you know that Television Title I wear around my waist?"

TRANNY ROSE: "Mmhmm…I’ve seen it…" (he/she starts to circle it’s finger around PC’s fig leaf)

PC: "It’s about the size of my [CENSOR!]"

TRANNY ROSE: "OH MY! I’d love to know what it feels like to be STRAPPED!"

CASTOR: Now put the Impulse mask on and remove the fig leaf.

PC: Are you sure about this, Castor? I’m pretty sure this chick is a dude.

CASTOR: Fourth wall, Problem Child! Fourth wall! There is no audience, only you and Rose. Pretend I’m not even here…now wear the mask!

(PROBLEM CHILD reaches under the blanket and pulls out an Impulse mask. He puts it on and lifts up his fig leaf, revealing an NFW CENSOR BOX!)

PC: "You see this, baby? I call it the Top Gun."

TRANNY ROSE: "Mmmm! You gonna take the Hershey Highway into my Danger Zone?"

PC: "LIKE A MAD BADGER!"

(PC bends over Tranny Rose and begins the dastardly act! Of course, an NFW CENSOR BOX is covering all the action, but it’s apparent the two are making love jailhouse-style)

TRANNY ROSE: "YES RANDALL! YES! SERVICE ME LIKE A BULL!"

(PC starts sweating profusely; he glances up to view himself in the ceiling mirror)

PC: CASTOR! She’s sh*tting on the bed, dude!

CASTOR: Ignore me, you idiot! Finish! It’s alright, the Europeans love this stuff; it’s Avant-Garde! Do the jack-rabbit…finish her with the jack-rabbit!

PC: Oh God… (PC begins to spasm from his nether-region, which indeed referred to as the "jack-rabbit")

TRANNY ROSE: "AYE CONYO, PAPI!"

CASTOR: Good…now pull out the piano wire from underneath the sheet and SNUFF HER!

PC: Man, my life sucks…

(PC grabs a wad of piano wire from the bed and wraps it around Tranny Rose’s neck. The Tranny does its best job of faking a death, and collapses forward on the pillow)

CASTOR: Hammer bludgeoning is optional, although I strongly suggest it. REMEMBER YOUR LINES!

PC: "The only good b*tch is a dead b*tch. Letting you live was optional, but wearing this mask is not. I am now liberated from the prison of false hope in which you incarcerated me…" (interrupts) Dude is this necessary?

CASTOR: CUT! Just cut! Gee, I don’t know PC…is being the visionary master of the 21st Century necessary? You tell me. Is saving Impulse’s soul necessary? ASK HIM!

(The camera turns to face Castor; his green eyed stare is piercing)

CASTOR: Well Impulse…is it?

(CUTTO BLACK; the AUDIO has not yet been cut)

CASTOR (V/O): Mr. Carradine…Mr. Carradine?...Sir, the scene is over…David?...

PC (V/O): Why isn’t he getting up?

CASTOR (V/O): Sh*t…we have to leave Bangkok NOW. I told you to go easy with the piano wire! The neck is very sensitive.

© 2009 Castor V. Strife Productions

…and I’m sure you can just imagine what it’s like to visualize that on a radio show. Which actually worked out well for the most of us, I bet. I mean if I saw that on television or live, according to Grossard…I’d either puke my brains out or shoot them out with a staple gun. Of course, Jimmy Mylde immediately had to leave due to an urgent phone call with Thai authorities…or the call he might have been expecting.

Apparently, in the ring…it was enough of a distraction for Turkington to gain a surprising advantage over Impulse. He connected with a skullcrunching roundhouse to the back of Randall Knox’s head, immediately knocking him down. If there’s one thing everyone will sell of Cary’s, its those green beer fueled fists. He managed to land a series of mounted fists and went for the cover, only getting a two count. So he tried again and barely got a two count…and tried again and got hooked for an inside cradle for a near pinfall. As both rushed up, Impulse ducked a series of wild right hands…and then Randall Knox connected.

SUDDEN IMPACT SUPERKICK!

And done for the 3 count, your Television Champion retains quite easily…but is not happy about the…well, I don’t know what the hell Strife did.

Over the next break, we were treated to various promotions for the upcoming Crash 49 release. Between Joe, Eddie, Rook and Felix…I think 97% of our listeners just felt their brain break somewhere and become flooded with a pudding like substance.

Speaking of pudding, Dos Equis is getting introduced. Of course, he comes out with his partner named FUTUREQuis…who has proven to be very much…not like his tag team partner or many other wrestlers in the NFW universe. As if things weren’t getting chaotic enough with these two, they were apparently paired up with…Legion. That’s right, a six-man tag affair was on the horizon.

Who would they be facing?

Well, the baseball bat wielding/duct-taped Impulse mask Phillies hat wearing…

…I don’t think the description is going to work out, but if you’ve been paying any attention to NFW recently…it’s High Flyer. Along with him, walked out two new buddies that don’t exactly make all the girls scream…but may make a few more wrestlers scream…Vic Tarano and Cameron Cruise.

So we’ve got CUATRO-X and LEGION taking on HIGH FLYER, VIC TARANO and CAMERON CRUISE. Everyone got that? Good.

The match started with Legion walking out into the middle of the ring with Cameron Cruise, while High Flyer paced excitedly on the apron pointing at the members of CUATRO-X with his bat…until the referee made him put it down at ringside.

Once the bell rang, we were good to go. Legion tried to use his quickness early on against Cruise, hitting a drop toe hold, a few stomps and a dropkick…but Cruise used the momentum of the ropes to plaster the purveyor of chaos with a vicious kneestrike to the head. Cruise quickly bashed Legion over with a series of forearms and sent him packing off the ropes, but found himself kicked in the head when going for a back body drop. Cruise staggered and Legion hit a flying side elbow strike that knocked him back into the corner, where Vic Tarano quickly tagged in. Tarano quickly struck Legion with a clothesline and then an elbow drop, barely getting a two count. Legion shook out the cobwebs, only to take a vicious roaring elbow strike and take a two count again. Tarano then scooped up Legion, but the chaos fiend slipped out the backdoor and delivered a very nice Reverse DDT to the mat. Toombs made his one insightful commentating note of the night, stating that Legion’s ring skills had improved tremendously over the last year. Calamity than screamed that his coke dick hadn’t and that’s why Luci wasn’t around anymore. Grossard thanked Calamity for ruining the rare moment of intelligence on the broadcast.

Tarano tried to tag in Flyer, who refused…because he said he liked Legion, who stood up wobbily and ducked under a Cruise clothesline after he tagged in angrily. Legion side-rolled and tagged in FutureQuis, who charged into the ring with a vicious forearm strike that popped Cruise in the mouth. Cruise hit the mat, which Flyer was now jumping like a loon on the apron side. Frothing at the mouth, Flyer was screaming for a tag.

FutureQuis flipped him the bird, which immediately caused Flyer to charge in the ring and get cutoff by the ref as FQ held Cruise in a spreadeagle before Dos Equis bounced off the ropes, smelled both armpits…screamed, "CAN YOU SMELL THE TACO COOKING!?" and stomped Cruise in the groin. Twice.

The crowd groaned. I groaned. Dwayne Johnson, never part of this universe up until this point in time…now became NFW’s biggest fan…and ALSO groaned. Dos exited, FQ brought Cruise up to a front facelock and planted him back in the mat with a D.D.T.

Cruise was now in deep trouble as Flyer screamed himself raspberry purple and shook the ropes. Meanwhile, FQ smashed Cruise’s face into the mat with an Inverted Russian Legsweep after tagging in Dos who now scaled the ropes…CARBOMB! (Swanton Bomb) which went down about as smoothly as an Olsen Twin chugging a pint of Guinness. Dos rolled over Cruise for the pin, but only got a one count due to the stomping barrage by Flyer. Dos brought back up Cruise and shoved him into the corner, where Legion started choking out The Crippler while FQ hit overhand chops to his chest plate. Flyer was finally pushed out, Cruise slumped to the mat leaning on the turnbuckles and the 12-pack abbed Dos charged in and hit…THE TIJUANA TAINT! Otherwise described as a spread-eagle splash into Cruise’s grill. More groans emanated as Dos tagged in FQ, who picked up Cruise and hit a stomachbreaker…holding him in position for Dos to double-stomp Cruise in the back! LIVER DIALYSIS IN THE ER, STAT!

The crowd booed, while FQ walked over to Flyer…and slapped him in the face! Flyer immediately charged again, screaming about FQ hiding his soul, while the referee and a visibly upset Vic Tarano held him back. FQ put Cruise up on his shoulders, while Dos scaled the turnbuckles. The referee turned around trying to tell Dos to get down, while FQ lied about a tag being made. Of course, Flyer used the situation to charge in the ring and chopblock FutureQuis…which caused an impromptu Elevator Drop on Cruise! Legion quickly helped Dos down as Flyer lunged at him, but the ref was able to cut off contact. Again, with the help of Tarano…Flyer was able to be subdued to his corner, but the damage was done.

FQ weakly tagged in Dos, who stopped Cameron Cruise in the middle of the ring with an elbow drop to the back of the head…while Cruise was trying to crawl towards his corner. Dos quickly tried to stay on the offense, pacing around Cruise who staggered up…

BEERSTEINER! NO! SITOUT POWERBOMB!

ONE!
TWO!
FQ WITH THE BREAKUP!

…Tarano actually elbow struck Flyer in the face to keep him from going anywhere, which was endorsed by Grossard on the call. Now, the fans were just clamoring…Cruise stood up and out of nowhere, Dos grabbed him by the foot and screamed "IT’S TWIST OFF TIME!" and well…did a great job on the takedown, but possibly the worst execution of an Ankle Lock in the history of wrestling. Cruise tagged while Dos chanted "TAP THE KEG!" but Tarano was the one tagged, which caused Flyer to hand photograph his back and then in a SLINGSHOT SUPERMAN PUNCH from Flyer to Dos! Dos sold like a 50 cent Coronas on Thirsty Thursdays and Flyer followed that with a Spingboard Moonsault! The only thing stopping Tarano from attacking him…well, was the rage he was taking against the masked Dos Equis.

Flyer kicked, punched, scratched, clawed, gouged, facehooked, poked and hammerfisted Dos around the mat, while FutureQuis buried his head in his arms and might’ve been crying at the ineptitude of his tag partner right now. Flyer brought up Dos…Cradle Suplex! Only a two count. Northern Lights Suplex! Only a two count. Spinebuster into a flipping JackKnife! Only a two count. Flyer started stomping on the lower back of Dos, seemingly targeting it for destruction. He scooped up Dos and slammed him. He did it twice. On the third time, he tweaked it…and gave him three consecutive front backbreakers. Flyer screamed for no reason and then covered. Two count.

More screaming. And now some mask-ripping!

Until FQ charged in booted Flyer in the head. Flyer got up angrily, the ref warned FQ and Tarano demanded a tag…and was ignored. Flyer picked up Dos and took him up to the turnbuckles, he climbed up with him. They started exchanging punches, but Flyer quickly turned Dos’ mask sideways gaining back the advantage…and then…

SUPERPLEX.

Dos was done.

UNO.

DOS ON DOS.

TRES.

No.

Nada quite. HA! …yeah, that was awful.

Flyer thought it was awful too. Very awful. I wondered underneath the stars if Flyer’s psyche had broken rather differently than his other ventures in this industry. And I wondered why everyone enjoyed this much more. I surmised that the world doesn’t want to see a caring, nice Christian man sell snow or theories on masked identities only hiding the shell of a soul.

No, that kind of talk required INSANITY for it to be believed.

Flyer stomped, huffed, puffed (figuratively) and tore at his hair in the ring, while Tarano screamed for the tag…and was only ignored. Flyer again took Equis towards the turnbuckles and this time delivered an Irish Whip causing Equis to crash into the neutral turnbuckles. Flyer charged…NADA HOME!

Flyer missed the avalanche elbow, Equis held himself up via the ropes and pulled himself up just in time to whale Flyer in the stomach with a roundhouse right. Flyer jumped around, holding his stomach as Equis fired off the turnbuckles and hit a swinging neckbreaker. Both men were down, the crowd were on their feet and all corners wanted to see a tag. Flyer staggered up and started lunging for Dos, who somersault rolled into his corner and tagged FutureQuis! FQ rolled into the ring, while Flyer backpedaled…no dice for him though as FQ walloped a series of rights before rocketing off the ropes and nailing a clothesline! Flyer groggily stood up and ate a roaring elbow strike that sent him spinning around…and then hooked for a Reverse DDT!

FQ hooked the leg! ONE! TWO! …and Vic Tarano broke it up. And then Legion came in and started wailing on Tarano. And then Cruise was wailing on Legion. And then FQ was yelling at Dos to get his ass in the ring, who apparently was thinking about buying a beer from the concession man. FQ slingshotted Dos into the ring, then had himself rolled up by Flyer and kicked out at two. As he rolled out, Dos took out Flyer’s legs while FutureQuis connected with a rushing forearm strike. The modified Double Elimination had both men covering and both men stomped by Tarano and Cruise!

The referee was panicking trying to get anyone out of the ring, when Luci4 apparently showed up at ringside from the crowd! Calamity helped her over the guardrail and Grossard lamented how her suspension was probably up at this point. Luci4 slid in the ring as all 6 wrestlers were tornadoing harder than Kansas City and Texas combined. The referee got clocked from behind by her, while High Flyer got knocked out of the ring by FutureQuis.

The odds were in favor, but Cruise and Legion fell out of the ring after Cruise connected with a clothesline. Luci4 charged and PLANCHA ON CRUISE! Legion grabbed a chair and started walloping him with it. Meanwhile, Flyer rolled back in the ring…’Impulse’ at his side while Vic Tarano hooked in Dos for a DDT…only to take an elbow strike from FQ, get hoisted up after and vaulted over in a fallaway slam. As FQ got up, he took a baseball bat shot to the back of his skull from Flyer who laughed maniacally.

The referee was coming to, while Flyer turned towards the groggy Dos.

SWING!

MISS!

Somehow, someway…Dos ducked and hooked Flyer around the arms.

BACKSLIDE DUEL!

Flyer and Dos tried to pull each other over as the referee shook out the cobwebs. Falling to their knees, trying with all their might…and that’s what allowed…

BULL RUSH! SHINING WIZAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHD!

Dos Equis es muerte.

Flyer hooked the backslide off the impact, the referee fell into position and made the three count, while Tarano slid out of the ring and protected Cruise from the chair assault he was taking at the hands of Legion and Luci4.

The bell rang, Flyer raised his bat victoriously…and then bashed it across the back of Dos Equis! The crowd booed as he started going for his mask, when FutureQuis lunged into the picture and fought him off. Flyer circled the ring with a wide smile, high-fiving ‘Impulse’…FutureQuis fuming and now highly anticipating Crash 49 himself.


BRAWL ES FINITO.

• Welcome to the Show! - Written by
• Dorchester Stratton vs. P. King Duk - Written by
• Captain Conga vs. Phil Atken - Written by
• The start of a Television Title match... - Written by
• Bill Killed - Written by BFF
• 'Impulse' Randall Knox vs. Cary Turkington - Written by
• Cuatro-X & Legion vs. High Flyer, Cameron Cruise and Vic Tarano - Written by

Results archived with Backstage V2

Back