As has become tradition around these parts, STRUGGLE celebrated the devil’s season with a night of ghouls, goblins, and whoever else decided to buy a ticket. As always, go watch the show, then come back here for spooky treats!
DARK MATCH 1: Boston Aaron (FREELANCE) Defeated Buster Samson (Hoss Dojo) in 10:35 with a diving headbutt – 87% ⭐⭐⭐ 1/2⭐
Overall, this was a pretty uneventful match, with a fully-trained, yet unsigned, guy coming out on top over a half-trained guy. The real story here is that Ol’ Hoss managed to call this one right down the middle, even with his arch nemesis involved. He is, after all, a professional.
DARK MATCH 2: Brandi Shackleford (Hoss Dojo) defeated Pepper Scoville (Hoss Dojo) in 8:59 with a reverse Momo Latch – 67% ⭐ 1/2⭐
Seems like a week ago, Brandi Shackleton was getting rolled up into oblivion by some weirdo, and we were opining over why the hell Pepper Scoville wasn’t on someone’s main roster. Now, Brandi just kind of steamrolled Pepper, and I don’t know what’s real anymore.
DARK MATCH 3: Reverend Freakout defeated Mayonnaise Boy in 11:07 with a spinning toe hold – 78% ⭐⭐ 1/2⭐
I’ll give them this: This was far less fucked-up than a match between these two freaks should’ve been. Which is probably why no one liked it.
STRUGGLEWEEN II
MATCH 1: Flawless Victoria (FREELANCE) defeated Soccer Ninja in 17:24 with the Fatality Kick – 100% 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
Well, this happened. We got the bright idea of bringing in a free agent who’s new to the region, mainly because it was Halloween, and we knew she’d dress up as something crazy. On paper, this was a quick tune-up match for Ninja before she went on to matches that mattered. But the matches don’t happen on paper, y’all, and the Moprtal Kombat weirdo actually beat the ninjafied soccer weirdo, and she may have earned a job out there. Too bad we’re fucking broke, or it would be here.
MATCH 2: Parking Lot Duval defeated Crash Ferrari in 15:38 with the STO – 99% ⭐⭐⭐⭐ 1/2⭐
It’s funny. As an ungroomed homeless guy, Parker Duvall puts forth the air of a complete schmuck, who’s just lucky to spend a few minutes indoors on occasion. Meanwhile, Crash Ferrari has always projected the aura of a next-big-thing ultimate superstar-in-waiting. In real life, Crash has never been squashed, but has won maybe two matches, ever, and Duval is really fucking good at this, and wins more than he loses. So that’s what happened here, basically.
MATCH 3: President Evil defeated the Masked Instigators in 10:44 with a pair of Constitutional Crises – 80% ⭐⭐⭐
Oh, god damn it. Obviously, it is in STRUGGLE’s best interests to have a legit world’s champion on our roster, but imagine how completely insufferable this prick is going to be if he takes Doc Wyatt‘s Warrior Pro title. Almost makes you want to ask El Profesional how much he charges for a broken leg.
MATCH 4: Pam From Human Resources defeated Patience Halliburton-Vanzetti in 7:47 with the Pink Slip – 66% ⭐ 1/2⭐
It’s funny. Everyone likes Pam. I mean the woman is basically the concept of sunshine and rainbows, compressed into a heavyset Samoan woman. That is, everyone likes Pam, except for Patience. Meanwhile, Pam likes everyone… Except for Patience. So now, you can see how it came to pass that Pam stomped the shit out of Patience in just under eight minutes.
MATCH 5: BIG BOI SEASON defeated The Harbingers in 10:29 when El Grande Chungus put the Chungadora on Harbinger Doom – 73% ⭐⭐
Doom and Calamity needed to cook, and the BIG BOIs just wouldn’t allow that. We had a lot of quick squashy matches on this card, which made the next one even more astounding.
MATCH 6: The First Class Family defeated Jezebel-Gun in 47:45 when Deadly Nightshade put the Bull’s Grampus on Jezebel Grim – 100% 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
God damn, even though it took them three-quarters of an hour to get there, this was a statement win for Johnny San Diego‘s (who was mysteriously absent) crew. Much like what usually happens in a match involving J-Gun lately, this was an insane brawl all over the arena for the most part, but didn’t turn into a bloodbath, like the Jezebel/Becky title match did. And speaking of the new champ, this is how a young wrestler makes a fucking statement. Not only did Deadly Nightshade score the win over Jezebel, but she made her submit, which is not something she does very often. (or ever? Maybe?) So her career’s just started, but you have to believe that Nightshade is already in contention. Also, now that I think of it, this is the first time in a while that Jezebel hasn’t gotten all bloody by the end of a match, so maybe keeping her unblemished is the secret to beating her?
MATCH 7: Screaming Rage Man defeated Ace La Grange in 21:05 with a powerbomb – 83% ⭐⭐⭐
There was a false start here, as this match originally started with rules and time limits and whatnot, and quickly ended in a double-countout, but in her first night as a referee, Donita Zapata said “man, to hell with this” and restarted the match as a streetfight. This was kinda-sorta a grudge match, as Ace took exception with Rage Man attacking Zippity Duda after the bell a while back, and Rage Man has a grudge against everyone. And it went about how you’d expect, as Ace is a never-say-die type who can take a serious pounding, but bleeds quite easily, and Rage Man is probably some sort of embodiment of nature’s vengeance that normally terrorizes teenagers who drink beer and diddle each other in the woods outside town, but became a wrestler somehow. So they did epic battle, and then Ace bled a bucket and lost.
MATCH 8 – FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE FOR THE EWX NO POLICE INVOLVEMENT TITLE: Pitbull Van Scorpio defeated The Korn Demon in 30:18 with the Katahajime to become the NEWWWWWWW champion – 99% ⭐⭐⭐⭐ 1/2⭐
WHOA, HOLY GOD DAMN SHIT, HE’S BACK. EWX head guy Tony Unity has a flair for the dramatic, but he’s also kind of a moron, so we didn’t know what to suspect when he suggested a mystery opponent and The Korn Demon agreed. But here we are, over a year after doctors told him he’d probably never wrestle again, and Pitbull Van Scorpio is not only back, but he’s the new goddamn champion. After a slow, deliberate start, this match eventually spilled to the outside, where they went hog-fucking-wild with chairs, light tubes, multiple life-sized Luigis, and at one point, a marital aid that may get us banned from Twitch. And PVS took an absolute hammering in this match, with the Demon hitting pretty much all of his big finishers, but kicking out every time. (and honestly, with a swifter referee, he may have eaten the three-count, but both guys were up against the same slow-ass ref, so it is what it is) And while PVS did hold the submission for a while after the bell, his official story is that he was so caught up in the moment and the crowd was freaking out with such a volume, that he never actually heard it ring, and even apologized to the Demon after the match. And seeing as how this is the kind of dude who is usually pretty blatant and unapologetic when it comes to senseless violence, I’m inclined to believe him.And while it sucks to lose yet another belt to another promotion, (even if it is technically their belt now) god damn, what a story. Not sure where the Demon goes from here though.
POST-SHOW WITH THE INVISIBLE BACKSTAGE CAMERA!
(After the show, STRUGGLE Pro Wrestling’s main dudes in charge, NATE RUGGLE and UNCLE ABDUL, are assessing the situation)
ABDUL: So… Good news is, no major injuries this time, attendance was good, moved a decent amount of merch, no real damage done to the building…
NATE: And the bad news?
ABDUL: Welp, we’re still in the red for October, and September, and August, and July, et cetera and so on… Presumably November… We’re further away from digging ourselves out of the hole than we were a year ago, Nate. We need a money mark, or we’re fucked.
NATE: …And so far, every prospective backer has been mobbed up, under criminal investigation for potentially being mobbed up, multi-level marketing scammers, people who hinted interest and then disappeared, people who thought we owned the building and just wanted to shut us down to turn the place into an illegal Airbnb, or the guy who wanted to kill us all with a falcon.
ABDUL: Any new developments with Nakatomi?
NATE: He’s all in, pretty much, but he has to answer to the board, and they don’t want him buying another promotion, even if it would expand them fully into North America. By the time they let him explore anything serious, we’ll already be done.
ABDUL: So we ain’t got long, do we?
NATE: We should be able to make it to next year…. After that…
ABDUL: …Yeah.
(After a long and particularly heavy silence, wrestler JUNIOR GRIM approaches, holding a stack of papers)
JUNIOR: Uhh, excuse me, Mr. Nate? Miss Pam says I need you to sign these, so I can get off the concussion protocol.
NATE: Oh, right. (he starts flipping through the stack of papers and occasionally signing them, before suddenly being startled by ABDUL’s voice and looking up to see what appears to be a middle-aged man attempting with mixed success to look much younger, as well as a blonde woman in a somewhat revealing dress. The man appears to be pointing at various objects in the backstage area, while the woman takes notes, and when he speaks, his accent is just slighty off, like someone who’s not from the U.S., but doesn’t want you to know it.)
ABDUL: HEY! Only STRUGGLE employees allowed back here! No fans allowed!
NATE: (eyes wide in astonishment) Abdul… Do you even know who that is!?
ABDUL: A fuckin’ trespasser who’s about to get a boot up his ass is who it is.
NATE: No, that’s… Ohmygod, That’s…
MYSTERIOUS MAN: My god, look at this place! The spiders! The shelves! It’s like a movie set! A film about shelves and spiders! My god, the vibes are off the charts! Are you getting all of this?
MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: (furiously swiping and tapping on some sort of futuristic-looking tablet, that’s probably just a regular one in a fancy case) Yes, sir. All of it.
NATE: Oh my crap, it’s really him!
ABDUL: He’s really about to get tossed the hell outta whoever he is.
(Suddenly, the mysterious man grabs ABDUL by the shoulders and seemingly inspects him, like an aliens encountering a new life form. ABDUL is frozen by the sheer power of confusion that has overtaken him)
MYSTERIOUS MAN: Good lord, look at this man! Like an encrusted relic from an ancient time! The brim of his cap is round, and – my god, are those “over-hauls!?”
MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: I believe “overalls” is the term used by these people, sir.
MYSTERIOUS MAN: Fascinating!
(ABDUL finally snaps back to reality and pushes the man away)
ABDUL: Boy, I swear to god, if you touch me one more time, I’m gonna-
(The MYSTERIOUS WOMAN reaches behind her back, and there is the telltale click of a gun being cocked)
MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: (loudly and frantically) SIR, DO YOU AUTHORIZE THE USE OF LETHAL FORCE?
ABDUL: Whoa, what the fuck!?
MYSTERIOUS MAN: Ha! No, that shan’t be necessary.
ABDUL: “Shan’t?”
(The man reaches out and grabs ABDUL’s hand, vigorously shaking it in a way no adult human would deem proper)
MYSTERIOUS MAN: My good sir, I have neglected to introduce myslef! It is I, Ruprecht Schtank, inventor, futurist, adventurer, D.J., vibes connoisseur, wealthiest man in the Tri-State Area, and prospective buyer of your little professional wrestling establishment!
NATE: Holy balls, it’s really him! I mean, really you! I mean, I’m sorry, I-I- oh god…
(NATE runs off and appears to vomit behind some boxes)
ABDUL: Hold up now, no one said we were selling the promotion. We were just looking for investors.
SCHTANK: Ah, my good sir, you have no need to be concerned. I shall be as a silent partner.
ABDUL: Yeah, like the one I heard Dorado‘s got across town, probably.
SCHTANK: I would try to preserve this place as much as possible, as I dare not corrupt such rare vibes. My god, professional wrestling, such a wondrous activity for a human being to observe… Of course, I would have to make some changes, but nothing major, I can assure you…
ABDUL: Changes? What kinda changes we talking about here?
SCHTANK: Well, just things like the on-air talent involved, the venue… Hmm… Promotion name, logo, fundamental rules. You know, I have a crew of engineers exploring the feasibility of getting rid of the three-count and investigating the possibility of a number existing between four and five. Also, a possible relocation to a country with no extradition treaty.
ABDUL: So let me get this straight. You want to buy the company, fire everyone, and change everything about it, but you’ll be a silent partner? Do you… Understand the concept of silence?
SCHTANK: Do not be alarmed, sir! The vibes will be preserved!
ABDUL: That’s not a real thing, goddammit!
SCHTANK: …Also, this company’s executives will be most well-compensated on their way out.
ABDUL: And everyone else…?
SCHTANK: Well, you know how it is, break a few eggs and all. But you’ll do great!
ABDUL: Look, no deal. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.
SCHTANK: Listen. You are but a simple peasant, so I’ll explain this slowly. This place will be out of business within three months anyway. Whether I purchase it directly or through a post-bankruptcy auction, it will be mine. So why not do right by yourselves and sell now?
ABDUL: first of all, this ain’t my company to sell. Second, it ain’t for sale in the first place. Third, you need to get the fuck outta my backstage area.
SCHTANK: Ha! Ha! My god, the anger! The tension! Do you not see that it only contributes to the total amount of vibes involved? You know, perhaps I misjudged this place. Mysterious Woman, notify the engineers to cancel the firebombing and subsequent relocation at once!
(NATE comes stumbling back, as MYSTERIOUS WOMAN resumes tapping and swiping away on the future-tablet)
NATE: Sir, it is an honor to – Wait, did you say something about firebombing this place!?
ABDUL: …And did he just literally refer to her as “Mysterious Woman?”
SCHTANK: Listen, listen. This is all a big misunderstanding on both our parts, and I am a huge enough man to admit it. As a token of good faith, and a preview of the future of this promotion, I will promote your next show!
NATE: Excuse me?
SCHTANK: Seriously! My people will handle everything! The venue, the concessions, all my treat! All profit, no overhead! My treat!
ABDUL: Well on one hand, he’s clearly insane, and has threatened to kill us all with fire, but on the other, no overhead.
SCHTANK: Look, just mull it over for a day or two, and my people will get in touch when you least expect it. Gentleman, you will see that this is only the beginning of a- (he suddenly stares directly at JUNIOR, who has been nervously silent this entire time) My god…
(SCHTANK takes JUNIOR’s hand and kisses it like it’s fuckin’ 1850 or whatever, and she jerks it back with an expression of wide-eyed horror, her eyes darting back and forth between ABDUL and NATE as a silent way of screaming that she needs an adult)
SCHTANK: Who is this… Alluring creature?
JUNIOR: (horrified) Did you just call me a… Creature?
SCHTANK: My lord, she is a vision! Mysterious Woman, have her disinfected and delivered to my sex hovercraft at once!
(JUNIOR takes a step back, as a wide-eyed ABDUL quickly puts himself between her and the fucked-up billionaire)
MYSTERIOUS WOMAN: Not advisable, sir. Legal Teams Alpha and Gamma are already tied up in litigation over prior… Hovercraft trips.
JUNIOR: Uhhh, sir, also, I’m legally required by Tri-State Area authorities to inform you that I’m a hillbilly, and therefore always considered to be heavily armed. Also, I’m nineteen, and you’re… Very old and creepy.
SCHTANK: Ahh, so hard-to-get it is, then! My god, I had forgotten the thrill of the chase! Even now, the vibes increase in volume and density!
JUNIOR: I-I-I-I gotta go! (she literally takes off at a jog, before looking back with disgust and upgrading to a sprint and leaving through a fire exit)
(NATE and ABDUL watch JUNIOR run away, then turn back to find that RUPRECHT SCHTANK and MYSTERIOUS WOMAN have completely disappeared, like ghosts and/or Federation Starfleet officers.)
NATE: This… I have a feeling that this could be very bad.
ABDUL: Yep. Both in terms of the future of the promotion and in terms of a billionaire industrialist getting shot to pieces by a gigantic family of wild-ass hillbillies, should he ever get poor Junior on that goddamn hovercraft.
NATE: How is that a real sentence, and not something like a Mad-Lib?
ABDUL: Wrestling, boss. Brings the fucked-up out in everyone, it seems. But man… A chance to do a show with no overhead, though…
NATE: I knoooow, right?
MEANWHILE…
(After the show, the fans have mostly left the arena to go do god-knows-what, but some of the wrestlers remain as always, hanging out, abusing various substances, and either celebrating or lamenting the results of the night’s matches. Appropriately, the three members of JEZEBEL-GUN have convened on what was once the tailgate of JEZEBEL GRIM’s fucked-up old pickup truck. The atmosphere is somber and quiet, as JEZEBEL and YUMIKO LA GRANGE pass a very funny-smelling cigar back and forth, while TOSHIYO NAKANO isn’t quite sure why it smells funny, but she’s reasonably sure she doesn’t want any part of it, and it leaning away from the two and taking very shallow breaths. Finally, JEZEBEL breaks the silence.)
JEZEBEL: Man… I really ain’t cut out for this shit, am I?
TOSHIYO: Calm down, it just one match.
YUMIKO: …And the first title reign is the hardest, or at least it was in my experience.
JEZEBEL: Really?
YUMIKO: Yup. Also, from what I’ve seen, usually the shortest.
JEZEBEL: Oh, great.
TOSHIYO: I once hold half a tag team title… Once….
YUMIKO: Trust me, it will be fine.
JEZEBEL: Fine!? I got fuckin’ submitted by a rookie!
YUMIKO: Yeah, well, she was trained by the best.
JEZEBEL: You cocky motherfucker. Seriously, though, how did you deal with this? You know, the pressure, havin’ a target on your back all the time…
YUMIKO: Honestly? It was the early 2000s, in the original STRUGGLE locker room, freshly married to Ace… My coping mechanisms were far less legal than the current ones, and we shall just leave it at that.
JEZEBEL: Yikes. Not gonna ask about specifics.
YUMIKO: Please do not. Also, to be honest, after Minerva retired and a couple of the other real wrestlers saw the writing on the wall and left, I had no real competition, anyway. There was First Lady Evil, but between my knees and her shoulders, the match never happened. Mostly, I was just squashing Stevie Ruggle‘s girlfriend-of-the-week. (she pats JEZEBEL on the back) So you have it much worse than I did!
JEZEBEL: Heh. Great. You know, thinkin’ about the old days, you ever think about goin’ back to the purple hair?
YUMIKO: Not a chance. I get enough weird looks at PTA meetings with the red bangs.
TOSHIYO: Ugh, good. When promoters had me dress as you, they make me do that to my hair for years. My shit was fried.
JEZEBEL: Just sayin’ it was a strong-ass look.
TOSHIYO: It really was, though.
JEZEBEL: And ya know, while you’re hair’s like that anyway – Speaking of which, why didn’t you just get a wig?
YUMIKO: Eh, not really a big deal. (sighs and continues under her breath) I have to dye everything to hide the gray at this point, anyway…
JEZEBEL: Do what now?
YUMIKO: Nothing.
(suddenly, a male voice speaks, prompting a paranoid YUMIKO to toss the blunt back to JEZEBEL, who clearly isn’t ready, dropping it in her lap, then frantically scrambling to both not drop it further toward the ground and keep from setting her crotch on fire.)
PARKING LOT DUVAL: Hey, uhhh, you guys?
YUMIKO: I was doing nothing!
DUVAL: Oh… Okay. I’m really sorry about this, and I don’t wanna come off like a narc or anything, but you know, there’s a residence over here, and like… It’s kinda hard to read when I’ve got a Phish concert wafting in through the window.
JEZEBEL: Ah, shit dude, I forgot they towed your, uh… Home back here.
DUVAL: Yeah, it was, uhhh… (sighs) Bothering people out front. Guess it’s the missing wheels.
JEZEBEL: …Or the shaggy homeless dude who lives in it.
(YUMIKO gives JEZEBEL a look and elbows her in the ribs)
DUVAL: Yeah, that too…
(Suddenly, JUNIOR GRIM walks by at a rapid pace, looking rather disturbed. Causing JEZEBEL to ignore all other current situations)
JEZEBEL: Whoa, Junior! Dude, are you okay?
(JUNIOR stops and looks back at JEZEBEL, with an expression on her face as though she just exited a shit-smeared restroom)
JUNIOR: Well, I uhhh… (she suddenly shudders as though subjected to a simultaneous gross-out and douche-chill) I’ll tell you… Later…
(JUNIOR hurries away, and JEZEBEL hops out of the truck bed)
JEZEBEL: Alright, come on, let’s go find out what the fuck just happened. YUMIKO, You deal with the locals.
(JEZEBEL and TOSHIYO hurry off after JUNIOR, much to the confusion of YUMIKO and DUVAL)
DUVAL: Huh, wonder what that’s all about?
YUMIKO: Eh, no telling. Hillbilly drama is beyond my understanding.
(DUVAL nods as though he knows what she’s talking about)
YUMIKO: So, look, about certain… Odors and substances tonight….
DUVAL: It’s fine. God knows I’ve seen and smelled far worse things happening out here, anyway.
YUMIKO: Thank you, I just feel like it could be very bad if certain people found out.
DUVAL: Ah, wouldn’t be good now, brother, would it?
YUMIKO: Exactly. So, you know… Please just keep this between us.
DUVAL: Don’t worry about it. Your secret’s safe with me.
YUMIKO: (sliding off the back of the truck) I guess I need to see what is going on with my two other adult children. (she starts to walk away, but then stops and turns around) And Parker? Thanks.
DUVAL: (putting the sunglasses from his Halloween costume back on) Hey, well, you know, like… The Dude abides, man.
YUMIKO: Heh.