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Previously on Ultimate Wrestling…
The world grows darker every day and the effects are trickling down into the lives of even the wrestlers of Ultimate Wrestling roster. Roped into suicide mission by media mogul Rupert Mudcock, U.S. President Ronald McStrump, and Dr. Summeroff, the roster now finds themselves prisoners of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea. Emperor Kim Jung-Un is now forcing them to take part in his deadly annual Death Sport tournament…
President McStrump sat in his oval office eating a large burger with ketchup and cheese. Grease oozed out the bottom end of the sandwich and into a Styrofoam container on his Presidential desk. The look on his face was pure ecstasy as he ignored Rupert and the world around him, losing himself in the cheap salty ground beef and caloric cheese. Across from him the M.O.X News media mogul, Rupert Mudcock paced nervously about the oval office shouting hysterically. He was clearly consumed by stress and anxiety from worrying over the well-being of his roster.
Rupert: Blob Dammit! How can you sit there and eat at a time like this Mr. President?
McStrump: Easy….I’m hungry. You really need to learn to relax Rupert. Enjoy the finer things in life. Maybe a well paid porn star once and a while… what’s the one on your roster again? Ah right, how could I forget the Caramel delight…? Mmmmm… yes, Gabriela Montgomery.
Rupert: How can I relax! My entire wrestling roster and production staff have gone silent for six days! Robert my Vice President of Operations still hasn’t contacted me! He was supposed to call me the instant they landed in Pyongyang! We’re ten minutes from air time for Blob's sake!
The President failed to even make eye contact with Rupert as he took another bite from his extra well-done burger. His eyes rolled slightly into the back of his head as he leaned back in his chair chewing loudly with his mouth open in pure delight. He then like a child began speaking with his mouth full of food to Rupert.
McStrump: I’m sure there is a logical explanation Rupert.
Rupert: Yeah! Like they could be all dead you fool! Do you know how difficult it is to find good fighting talent these days?
McStrump: Watch your damn tone, Rupert! You’re speaking to the President of the United States!
Rupert: I… I’m sorry sir. I’m under a great deal of stress.
McStrump: I’m sure everything is fine. With a terrific man like Robert in charge what could go wrong?
Rupert sighed in frustration over the President's irrational confidence. There was no real way to know if anything was actually going according to plan. This mission Summeroff and McStrump had conspired together had now jeopardized his entire business. On top of that, the friends and families of the Ultimate Wrestling staff would surely blame him if they didn’t come back alive. Just the thought of the lawsuits and bad press caused him to involuntarily shart in his pants. Rupert glanced over at McStrump and was quickly relieved to see that the President had been too involved his greasy meat sandwich to notice the embarrassing accident he had made in his trousers. Rupert gathered himself and adjusted his pants before speaking back to the President.
Rupert: Well the Friday Night Clash 8 show is supposed to be starting soon. If we don’t get a live feed from North Korea at the scheduled time I think will have to assume the worst.
McStrump: Try not to panic. Any word from Dr. Summeroff yet?
Rupert: No… something is wrong… I can feel it.
McStrump: Agreed. Something was off with that moronic Canadian monk Abishag. I felt it at the runway. I’ve sent some of my best men to Mt. Vernon to investigate along with my son Ronald Jr. I told them to start at the old Tiny Lister Memorial Arena they converted into a place of Worship for our watery master. I told them not to come back until they’ve located the compound or found Summeroff himself.
Rupert: Good, It’s unlike Summeroff to be this hands-off... If anything’s happened to him, there is no way we can trust Abishag and others carry out our lord's will.
McStrump: Those stupid backwater monks don’t deserve to be in the same room with the Lord, much less protect him for that matter. If Dr. Summeroff is out of the way then this is our chance to rescue the Blob and save it from those lunatics. With the watery master at our sides, we will truly make America great again!
Rupert: Blob will it McStrump! Blob will it…
Rupert glanced at his gold and diamond-studded watch and saw that it was time for the Ultimate Wrestling show to finally begin. Sweat began to bead at his forehead at the thought of a dark feed with nothing being broadcast.
Rupert: Mr. President, the show is supposed to be starting. Please, we need to get a television in here with M.O.X sports now!
McStrump: Rupert baby, I got this.
McStrump pressed a button on the Presidential desk and a panel in the ceiling opened. A split second later a state of the art 70-inch flat screen television lowered in front of them in perfect viewing distance.
Rupert: Impressive.
McStrump: Let just say I had to make a lot of upgrades to this place when I was forced to move in. It was a complete dump before!
Rupert: I can’t imagine sir. It must have been a real struggle.
McStrump pulled a remote from his desk and turned on his television before changing the channel to M.O.X Sports just as the previous sporting news program was coming to a close. As the credits played out the end of the telecast the screen suddenly went black with dead air. Rupert sat there holding his breath praying for the live feed to start. Suddenly the first live pictures from the Rungrado stadium came into focus. Inside the stadium was a massive North Korean crowd of citizens who sat patiently waiting for the show to start.
McStrump: See everything is fine! He’s a man of his word! Nothing to worry about! This could be a huge start in our two nations opening talks of denuclearization! You’ve done a great thing for humanity here Rupert…
Rupert stared at the screen not saying a word. Without warning a live orchestra high in the rafters began to play an acoustic version of Sympathy for The Devil and a large parade of soldiers marched out from the stage entrance and into the arena in full military garb carrying rifles. The first twenty soldiers surrounded the outside ring area that had been set up in the center of the Rungrado. The rest stood guard at the stage entrance and in the aisle way leading to the ring. A curtain above the main stage was then lifted and the Emperor of North Korea stood looking over his people. The North Korean citizens chanted his name in praise fanatically as the soldiers fired their rifles into the air in his honor. Once the crowd had stopped their faux applause for the Emperor, he spoke to them in their native language and to the millions of viewers at home with the help of subtitles.
Emperor: “Americans! People around the world! Tonight your regular scheduled programming of Friday Night Clash has been canceled!”
Rupert: What in Blob’s blue oceans is he talking about?
McStrump: Shhh! I need to concentrate on reading the words! Damn idiots in charge of subtitles never give me enough time!
Emperor: “Instead America’s greatest fighters will join my greatest champions in a contest to the death! THUS, MY PEOPLE, I GIVE YOU THE DEATH SPORT TOURNAMENT! MANY WILL DIE! ONLY ONE WILL BE CROWNED CHAMPION!”
Rupert: No! He can’t be serious? Mr. President we’ve got to put a stop to this!
McStrump: What do you want me to do? Start World War 3 over some wrestlers? We sent them there because we knew they were expendable! Plus they might still be able to complete their mission. We can’t give up yet Rupert!
Rupert: I got to call the network! I have to pull the plug on the feed now! Who knows what kind of sick twisted torture Kim has in store for all of them.
McStrump: I’m sure it’ll be streamed virally across the internet. I can have our Cyber team try and bring down the sites, but this thing will be all over the Dark Web in a matter of minutes...
The scene in the oval office ends with Rupert screaming into his phone for the M.O.X broadcasting team to cut the live feed from North Korea. At the same time McStrump’s top advisers rush into the room all yelling at the same time and vying for the Presidents attention on the critical matter.
The Emperor Kim Jong Un finally takes his seat on a lavish and ancient-looking throne made of gold. A wicked smile comes over his face as he awaits patiently for his deadly tournament to finally commence. The cameras then shift from Emperor Kim to a very tired and beat up looking Chris Rodgers and Scott Slade who’s been tied to two old wooden chairs. Two soldiers stand behind them with guns pointed at the back of their heads. Microphones have been set up in front of them on an old wooden table. About 20 feet from them stand Rich Relando who also looks as if he’s been through hell. His custom white suit tattered and his Fedora damaged beyond repair. It’s clear that they’ve been tortured ruthlessly the entire week at the Emperor's request to prove a point to McStrump and the Americans watching at home.
Scott Slade: Please! If anyone at home is still watching! We’ve been taken, hostage! We need help! They are torturing us! We are…
The soldier behind Slade whacks the back of his skull with the butt of his rifle and knocks him unconscious face-first onto the wooden table. Rodgers shakes his head in frustration and then nods at the solider.
Chris Rodgers: I thought that whiny liberal brat would never stop crying! This is what happens when you send a millennial to do a real man’s job! Folks, I’m Chris Rodgers and if you’re still with us in any shape or form, I’m here to cover this disgusting human rights violation of a tournament as a true reporter. Tonight Ultimate Wrestling’s best will be fighting against some of the Empire’s most dangerous men and women, in the world’s most deadly competition. A tournament that I’ve been told has been held every year since the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea was formed. We’ve been told by the Emperor himself that a winner can only be declared when the fighter’s opponent is confirmed dead by the referee. In all my years in covering combat sports, I’ve never heard anything more barbaric in my life!
Scott Slade finally regains consciousness after the shot he took moments ago from the soldier behind him. It’s clear that his thoughts are still a bit scrambled and tears have begun to form and run down his pale white cheeks.
Scott Slade: {sniffle} and… don’t forget Chris… every match is different. Like something out of Roman times…
Chris Rodgers: Glad to have you back with us you cry, baby. Scott is correct though. These are not your usual wrestling or cage fighting matches you’re accustomed to in America! Some of these matches that have been scheduled tonight look to have been designed by a complete psychopath.
Scott Slade: Mr. Mudcock… please do something…
Chris Rodgers: Will you grow a pair. I’m the one that got beat by electrified police batons in our cell yesterday. Anyway, God is with all our co-workers here and the Ultimate Wrestling roster being forced to participate. Opponents have been picked at random and I believe we are being given the signal that our first bout is about to start.
The main camera cuts to a specially erected ring in the corner of the Rungrado arena for the first fight of the night. The ring sits twelve feet high above the ground with a large hole cut in the center of it. Inside of the hole in the ring is a tubular pit with four-foot razor-sharp spikes sticking out of the ground at the base. A large steel ladder has been placed next to the ring to allow the competitors to step inside the lethally designed ring. Suddenly “Come with Me Now” By the Kongos starts to play on the sound system inside the arena. The citizens in attendance turn their attention to the stage as Dwight Couch makes his way onto the stage slowly.
Scott Slade: This is horrible. I can’t watch this Chris! Dwight is a family man and a father! This is completely unfair!
Chris Rodgers: Who told you that life was fair, son? If any of us make it out of here alive will be beyond lucky.
Scott Slade: Apparently Dwight is going to be fighting in some sort Spike Pit match?
Chris Rodgers: First man to toss his opponent down the pit wins and moves on in this crazy tournament and lives to see another day.
Rich Relando is given and microphone and forced by the soldiers at ringside to announce the entrants. Many of the spectators have begun smoking cigarettes and cigars and the arena has filled with an opaque haze.
Rich Relando: The following match is a Spike Pit Match to the death! Making his way to the ring now hailing from the great state of Kentucky! Standing at six feet, six inches and weighing in at two hundred and twenty-five pounds! DWIGHT! COUCH!
The North Korean citizens boo Couch and chant “Death to American” as he makes his way up the extra tall steel steps and into the raised ring. It’s clear that Couch is no worse for wear than the announcing team and that he is extremely frightened for his well-being. The Koreans were honorable enough to let him at least put on his traditional wrestling garb. Abruptly Couch’s music is cut off and “Something to Believe in” by Off-Spring begins to play on the speaker system. The fans react a little more positively as Takuma Sato walks out onto the stage in his traditional karategi. The look on his face is stoic and he ignores the Koreans as he makes his way over to the specially designed death match ring.
Scott Slade: No way man! This is bullshit! Their making two of our guys fight each other right off the bat! Random match opponent my ass!
Chris Rodgers: I’d watch what you say unless you want another lump in the back of your skull Scotty boy.
Rich Relando: His opponent! He is one half of the Ultimate Wrestling Tag Team Champions! Born and Raised in Detroit City, USA! Standing five feet, nine inches, and weighing in at 195 pounds! He is TAKUMA SATO!
Sato enters the ring and stands across from Couch with the gaping hole in the center of the ring between them. The gong is sounded personally by the Emperor himself from his temporary throne and the match officially begins, but the fighters standstill not moving in defiance to the Emperor. The fans begin to grow agitated as they watch the two Americans stand there staring at one another.
Chris Rodgers: What the hell are they doing up there?
Scott Slade: I think their protesting! I think they're refusing to fight!
The Emperor looks on unhappily at the two fighters before barking some commands from a megaphone. Suddenly a soldier standing ringside aims his rifle towards the ring and fires a shot grazing Sato in the left shoulder. The shot spatters the ring canvas with blood and causes an uproar in the crowd. Sato falls to his knees holding his shoulder in pain and then silences the crowd as they watch him get back to his feet without even flinching.
Chris Rodgers: It would appear Scott that they have been left with no choice. Fight to the death or they both die.
Scott Slade: I feel like I’m living a nightmare… this is crazy!
Couch and Sato realize that the Koreans will not put up with their protest to fight one another. Sato takes the time to bow in front of Couch. Dwight acknowledges the sign of respect and bows back at Sato before taking a fighting stance. The crowd ignites into an uproar as the two fighter’s go at it with Sato avoiding numerous lefts and rights from Dwight. Couch fails to land a single punch before taking a sharp knee to the midsections and a spinning wheel kick to the face that sends him towards the opening of the pit. Couch collapses on his back inches from the edge barely avoiding falling to his doom.
Chris Rodgers: Not a great start for Dwight, but to be honest he hasn’t really been on a roll as of late.
Scott Slade: I can’t watch… and yet I can’t look away.
As Dwight attempts to get to his feet Sato launches into a flying dragon kick and connects hitting Couch square in the chest. Sato lands on his feet inches from the edge of the pit. The blow knocks Couch back into the pit and he hits the razor-sharp spikes. A loud scream echo’s through the arena as Blood flies up out of the pit staining the ring mat as Dwight’s body becomes a pincushion. The Emperor sounds the gong sounding the end of the match with a huge smile on his face.
Chris Rodgers: Oh no! Dwight Couch has fallen!
Scott Slade: What a gruesome sight! Oh, God!
Chris Rodgers: That was one of the worst ways I’ve ever seen someone go and I been to war ladies and gentlemen.
The crowd begins to chant “Death Sport” fanatically as the cameras zoom in on the fallen Couch. Referee Hei-Ran raises Sato’s hand in the air signifying him the winner. A slow clap begins for Takuma as he makes his way down the tall steel steps and backstage with a grimace look on his face.
Emperor Kim sat on this throne waiting for the next deadly match to begin. He took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one just as one of his General’s walked over to him and whispered into his ear.
General: “Anderson from the War Hammer Corporation is here to see you to discuss the final plans for the missile project.”
The Emperor: “Send him in.”
The general walked back to the entrance and pulled the curtain aside revealing Allen Anderson. Allen had the looks of a trim Bruce Willis, but the body of high school nerd. He was a thin man and extremely bald, but it was clear he had gone far in life by the way he dressed and the way he carried himself. Behind him were two large North Korean bodyguards watching his every move as he was let into the balcony. The Emperor stood up from his golden seat and welcomed Allen with open arms.
The Emperor: Mr. Anderswwann! My honor guest! Walcome to my cunty and to Death Sport! Ha! Hahaha!
Allen moved closer and shook the Emperor's hand greeting him with a slight bow. The Emperor’s English was poor, but good enough for Allen to understand him for the most part. The Emperor motioned him to sit in the seat next to his throne. Once Allen had sat down the two began discussing a large scale project that War Hammer Industries had been contracted to supply and help construct for his army.
Anderson: The last of the software updates for the computer missile guidance system are being installed as we speak. Soon your stealth hyper-speed nuclear missiles will be able to reach the entire west coast of America, Hawaii, and Alaska.
The Emperor: Fawntanstic. Soon my family will fawnally have rewenge on those American pigs! My fawther and his fawther before him will fawnally rest in peace.
Anderson: My employer wanted me to make sure you were still willing to go through with the plan, but it would seem that we are dealing with a man who keeps his promises. It’s very important to us that the Americans be dethroned from their position of power in the world. A chaotic world that is full of danger and uncertainty is good financially for War Hammer Industries.
The Emperor: Why would I change my mind? This is all I’ve ever wanted my entire life.
Anderson: This will surely lead to the total annihilation of your people and your country. You yourself will probably not survive… I’ve already received word that President McStrump has ordered his battleships and carriers into strategic attack positions just due to this little stunt you’ve pulled here with these wrestler hostages.
The Emperor: I coowed care lewess about my people. It’s never been about them. It has always bween about my family and the diswespect the Americans and the world for that mawtter have shown us! I will have my rewenge! The Americans will suwffer!
Anderson: Good. This is what we wanted to hear. I’m heading back down to the mountain base to oversee the final installations and prep.
The Emperor: Nonsewnse Allen! Watch a few of the fights with me! I have fwull confewdence in your people.
Allen nodded and sat back down and agreeing to stay for the next fight. The Emperor offered him a cigarette which he then lit for him.
The Emperor: I’ve heard you hawve an infwinity for the world combwat sports.
Allen Anderson: Yes, let’s just say I’m familiar with the underground world of competitive fighting. You could say I run somewhat of an experimental ludus much like the Romans had in there day. These are men and women indebted to War Hammer with no choice but to devote both body and soul to me.
The Emperor: HAhahaha! Fawntastic! I bewlieve you will enjwoy my Champwions who will be fighting these puny American wrestlers! Hahahaha!
Chris Rodgers: I’m being told by what’s left of our crew that our second bout tonight is about to start at the main ring!
The main camera cuts back to the central ring in the epicenter of the Rungrado where two soldiers have set up two ancient-looking wooden stands. On top of them lay two open boxes with Japanese Katana swords resting inside them. The crowd looks on in curiosity as Rich Relando enters the ring and prepares to speak to the people of North Korea and to the people watching on the internet.
Rich Relando: That was a good man who died up there for you people! He had a damn daughter! You sick fucking bastards!
Chris Rodgers: Relando no! What the hell do you think you’re doing! Do you have a death wish?
The crowd boos Relando’s curses and the Emperor angrily shouts commands down at the soldiers at ringside. Two soldiers rush in and grab Relando by both of his arms while a third gets in front of him and pulls out a Baton from his holster. The soldier clobbers the ring announcer in his throat and Relando drops to the ring mat holding his voice box gasping for air.
Scott Slade: My God they could have collapsed his windpipe for all we know!
Chris Rodgers: If they’ve hurt that man’s golden voice it’s a God. Damn. TRAVESTY!
The soldiers pull Relando out of the ring as "Baker Street" by Gerry Rafferty begins to play on the speaker's system inside the stadium. Davey O’Brien walks out onto the stage to a mixed reaction from the North Koreans in attendance. As he enters the ring, he walks over to the first sword in his path, and begins studying it closely.
Chris Rodgers: I'm being told that our next match is some sort of samurai sword fight match?
Scott Slade: Sure why not? Not like anything else here makes any fucking sense…
Chris Rodgers: I doubt we are still live on M.O.X, but if you’re somehow still watching us you are in-store for one of the craziest things you’ll ever see…
O’Brien’s music is cut off as he picks up his sword hesitantly. Some dramatic classical music begins to play in its place as a masked ninja-like warrior walks out onto the stage in an all-white attire. The people of Korea go wild and begin chanting the name “Hyung” as the fighter makes his way to the ring.
Scott Slade: I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that this man is familiar with fighting with swords Chris.
Chris Rodgers: I’m being told that this is a former Champion of the Death Sport tournament. He won it both times he was entered. Once in 2002 and another time in 2008. He goes by the name Soo Hyung and many believe him to be a skilled assassin for the Emperor himself.
Scott Slade: God be with O’Brien on this one Chris. I got a bad feeling after watching Couch plummet to his death.
Hyung gets to the ring apron and then front flips masterfully over the top rope and into the ring. He quickly makes his way to the other Katana and then starts to swing the sword around expertly putting the fear of God into O’Brien and electrifying the crowd at the same time. The Emperor sounds his giant gong again starting the deadly sword fight. It’s clear the Hyung is extremely confident as he taunts O’Brien to come at him and to make the first move. O’Brien is reluctant to go on the attack having moral issues with the entire situation he now finds himself in.
Chris Rodgers: I think you're right to be worried, Scott. It doesn’t seem like O’Brien has the killer instinct needed for something like this. Look at him… he doesn’t even want to fight.
Frustrated with his opponent’s weakness, Hyung launches into a flurry of attacks meant to force O’Brien to fight rather than put an end to him. O’Brien blocks the attacks with his sword and the fans begin to cheer as the sound of steel clangs and echoes throughout the Rungrado. O’Brien stumbles back into the ropes and then avoids a decapitating assault from Hyung by diving down on the ring canvas and rolling away from him.
Scott Slade: O’Brien holding his own, but clearly out of his element here.
Chris Rodgers: The little Scot better start channeling some Highlander if he wants to stay alive!
Scott Slade: How can you make jokes at a time like this?
Chris Rodgers: I’m not joking! He seriously needs to get his head out of his ass and focus if he wants to stay alive!
O’Brien realizes he will have to put his moral conflict aside and fight if he wants to stay alive. He goes after Hyung and swinging his Katana, but misses when ninja leaps up over him into a somersault and lands behind him in a squatted position. He then uses his sword to slice through the Scotsman’s hamstrings spilling blood onto the ring mat and firing up his supporters in the crowd. O’Brien collapses to the mat screaming in pain face-first into the ring mat.
Scott Slade: Ahh…Fuck!
Chris Rodgers: Damnit Davey! It’s going to take a lot more than playing defense to beat this guy!
Hyung stands back up and raises his sword into the air before jumping up high and attempting to cut Davey’s head off. O’Brien however turns around just in time and blocks the attack on his knees shocking Hyung with his resilience. O’Brien, using his upper body strength forces the Asian warrior back much to the dismay of the crowd in attendance. Once back on his feet O’Brien and Hyung continue their test of strength with their swords pressed up against each other. The metal from the swords sparks as they grind together and the fans gasp when O’Brien head butt’s Hyung straight in the forehead out of nowhere.
Chris Rodgers: There you go, son!
Scott Slade: Head-butt from O’Brien! Hyung has dropped his sword and looks disoriented! Now’s your chance Davey!
Hyung stumbles into the ropes and O’Brien launches into a killing blow running his katana sword through his sternum. Blood spray’s from ninja’s torso as the bloody blade protrudes through his back. An awful sound comes from the North Koreans as they watch their former champion fall to his knees bleeding out. O’Brien backs up horrified at his actions as he watches his opponent suffer and bleed out in front of him.
Scott Slade: My God! It doesn’t get any more inhumane and yet he had no choice.
Chris Rodgers: Where’s the bell?
Scott Slade: Chris I being told that because he’s technically still breathing we are not done here!
Hyung pulls out the blade from his torso causing more blood to spurt out onto the mat. However knowing that he doesn’t have much time left, he extends the blade upward toward O’Brien in an honorable request for him to finish him off.
Chris Rodgers: Look at that! He’s giving up!
Scott Slade: O’Brien doesn’t look like he’s willing to take a life, however!
O’Brien refuses the sword unwilling to finish the job and in response, Hyung takes his own life as Samurai would in defeat running the sword through himself into his vital organs. The warrior collapses dead on the mat of the ring with blood pooling around him. The emperor sounds the gong as the soldiers angrily grab Davey and escort him aggressively out of the ring unhappy with his unwillingness to finish the match properly.
Chris Rodgers: An incredible ending to that fight Scott. The Emperor did not look happy with Davey. I see a great deal of torture coming his way this week if we’re not rescued.
Scott Slade: I’m being told they're ready to start the boiling pool match, Chris.
Chris Rodgers: Someone’s about to get cooked like a lobster… sorry… that was a disgusting thing to say...
The main camera cuts to the other side of the main stage where another specialized ring has been built in the middle of a giant Olympic sized boiling pool. The boiling water surrounds the ring like an endless mote around a castle with steam rising out of it in the air ominously. Suddenly music that could only be described as dark ill-omened tones begins to play on the speakers inside the stadium. Blake Luthor walks out onto the stage with a sadistic smile on his face. The Koreans instantly go into a fervor and chant “Hammer Hands” passionately as he makes his way down the aisle and towards the boiling pool.
Chris Rodgers: There he is. The man known as Hammer Hands! Last year’s champion of the Death Sport tournament here to defend his crown!
Scott Slade: This is a man who's undergone grotesque body modifications. His hands have been replaced by metal fists. His whole world revolves around fighting in dangerous underground tournaments like this one all over Asia apparently.
Chris Rodgers: How the hell does he eat or wipe?
Scott Slade: Apparently he has servants for that…
Chris Rodgers: Disgusting…
As Blake reaches the edge of the pool a soldier standing at an electronic control panel pushes a simple button and a metal bridge rises up out of the boiling water presenting a path to the ring. Luther then starts his track to the ring as the fans look on in excitement for one of the most anticipated matches of the tournament. Once inside the ring his music is cut off and “A Greater Call” by Cult of Luna begins to play. Brother Abishag walks out onto the stage as the Koreans look at the giant man in awe due to his size and stature.
Scott Slade: Wow! Brock Abishag is his opponent!
Chris Rodgers: If there is one man who could strike fear into the heart of any of these hardened champions of the Emperor, it’s this man right here! Six foot, eight inches tall! 300 pounds plus! The man is a monster and I can guaran! damn! Tee! He is not in a good mood right now!
Abishag makes his way out onto the crossing bridge platform and into the ring and the soldier at the electronic console lowers the bridge deep back down into the boiling abyss of the pool. The fighters now are trapped on an Island of a ring surrounded by water that would instantly cause 1st-degree burns. The Emperor sounds his ancient gong and officially starts the match. The two men stare at each angrily, each of them knowing full well that others has no reservations about ending them. Luther comes at Abishag using his agility and unloads a flurry of body shots with his metal fists. Abishag does his best to block them, but a few get through to his ribs. The brawler backs Abishag into a turnbuckle, but the assault ends with Brock grabbing hold of Luthor by his throat with both his hands. He then lifted him up into the air before tossing him back into the center of the ring on his backside.
Scott Slade: Look at the Strength of Abishag!
Chris Rodgers: This Luther character just found out who he’s fighting!
Luther gets back to his feet quickly shaking the cobwebs off, surprised by his opponent’s incredible strength. Abishag charges at him and goes for a big boot to his face, but Luther avoids it by dropping down to one knee and quickly striking a vicious low blow to the big man with an uppercut to his groin. Brock shudders and then goes down to the mat holding his privates in pain as the spectators cheer Luthor on.
Scott Slade: What a nasty low blow! Luthor looks to be the kind of man who will sacrifice honor if it means a win.
Chris Rodgers: He’s only just making Abishag angrier… not a wise move if you ask me, Slade.
Luthor walks up to Abishag and strikes him in the face with his metal fist really laying into him. The blow knocks two of Abishags teeth right out of his mouth and drops him flat on the blood-stained mat as fresh blood quickly drools out of his mouth and pools around his face. The fans roar and begin to chant “Hammer Hands” after the brutal strike filling Luthor with a major amount of confidence. Luthor starts stomping on the big man and then backs him up giving the Blob Cult leader some room to breathe.
Chris Rodgers: Luthors looking to finish this with one big metal punch!
Abishag struggles back to his feet and Luthor charges in at him while winding up for a big haymaker in the process. The blow fails to land however as Abishag extends his long right leg and boots Luthor right in the face laying him out on his back. The fans let out a moan due to disappointment as Abishag takes control of the match. Luthor tries to get back to his feet and mount a counter-attack before Abishag can get to him, but despite his effort, he ends up walking into the big man’s powerful right hand which quickly wraps around his throat. Abishag lets out a roar before choke slamming Luthor into the ring mat with authority.
Scott Slade: Oooh! Take that you assholes! How do you like us now!
Chris Rodgers: Luthor has felt the wrath of Abishag.
Abishag begins to pump both his arms in the air signaling for a gorilla press as the fans boo him relentlessly. Kim Jong Un looks on unhappily as his second champion is hoisted up by Brock high above his head. Luthor unconscious from the chokeslam doesn’t even put up a struggle as monstrous Abishag tosses him into the boiling pool.
Scott Slade: It’s over! Brother Brock Abishag wins! Incredible victory!
Chris Rodgers: Good God Luthor is conscious again!
The spectators look on angrily as Luthor surfaces now fully awake and in an incredible amount of pain. His screams and shrieks echo through the stadium as he struggles to swim back toward the ring with his skin blistering and burning. His metal fists however weight him down and soon he slowly sinks to the bottom of the pool drowning in a slow agonizing death. The Emperor sounds the bell signifying Brother Abishag as the winner of the match much to his disappointment. The bridge rises up out the depths of the boiling pool and Abishag crosses back to safety. He is then escorted back up the ramp with a stern look on his face.
Scott Slade: I get the feeling that’s not the first life this man’s taken.
Chris Rodgers: He really approached the match with a killer instinct that is for sure Scott. So far we seemed to be doing pretty well. We’ve only lost Dwight Couch and he will be sorely missed.
The Ultimate Wrestling roster members still alive stood watching on an outdated old CRT monitor attached to the wall of their holding cell. To the right of them sat the bodies of the fighters who had fallen so far zipped up in body bags. It was clear that the Emperor had specially requested this as a form of psychological torture for them. Kronin Reinhardt was the first to speak shortly after Abishag had defeated the Emperor's second Champion. Most of the fighters, however, were too preoccupied with preparing for their fights that they didn’t even hear him speak.
Kronin: As odd and fearsome as some of these handpicked warriors seem, we’re holding our own against them so far.
Sato walked over to Kronin with a solemn and serious look on his face. It was clear that killing Dwight Couch was weighing heavy on him.
Sato: Forget the tournament… we have to find a way out of our holding cells after tonight’s first round. Even if we defeat all of the Emperor’s fighters tonight it will only mean that will have to fight each other in the following rounds, just like I had to with Couch earlier tonight.
Kronin nodded but didn’t speak.
Sato: We have to focus on the mission. Were here gather information and deal with the Tyrant in power if we can.
Kronin placed his right hand on Sato’s shoulder and then looked him in the eyes.
Kronin: Forget the mission Takuma… I agree with your first instinct. We need to escape and then look for a way to get airborne and away from here. I have no doubt by now that this has become the top story of the international news cycle. We could be hours away from the start of World War 3 all because of this…
Sato eyes widened, he hadn’t thought about the implications of the world discovering the insanity of their abduction and the Emperor's deadly tournament could mean.
Sato: I didn’t think about it, but you’re right… this is probably being viewed as a major human rights violation…
Kronin shook his head disapprovingly, it was clear he had forgotten how young Takuma was. International treaties and politics were probably something he did not follow or even have a good grasp of.
Kronin: It’s okay, sometimes it’s hard to see the bigger picture, but rest assured were being used and not just by our own government. It’s as if the Emperor wants to start a war with the U.S. but for the life of me, I cannot see why. It would mean the complete destruction of his nation.
Sato: Have you looked at that guy? He looks completely off his rocker! Who knows what he’s thinking.
Suddenly Abishag appeared from the hallway leading to the entrance stage with two North Korean soldiers behind him carrying rifles. Brock was clearly still on a high from having demolished one of the Emperor’s favorite Champions. He was shouting hysterically and it was clear that the tone of his voice was making the soldiers nervous.
Abishag: YOU TELL YOUR EMPEROR THAT NOTHING HE PUT’S IN FRONT OF ME WILL STOP ME! THE BLOB HIMSELF RUNS THROUGH MY VEINS! HIS POWER FLOWS THROUGH ME! YOUR WEAK EXCUSE FOR WARRIORS AMUSE US BOTH!
The soldiers are happy to quite him down and begin pummeling him with the Hammer Corporation designed electrified nightsticks. They then open the holding cell and toss Abishag toward Sato and Kronin who catch the big man before he hits the floor. They then enter the holding cell and grab Huckleberry aggressively and wrestle him out before marching him towards the stage entrance.
Huckleberry: What’s ya rush boys? You ain’t got’s to be so aggressive!
Kronin and Sato helped Abishag onto his feet as Huckleberry was dragged away for his match.
Abishag: The poor bastard… he has to fight that bitch! … Kim Ji-Min…
Scott Slade: Looks like we’re about to start our fourth match of the night. A C4 Explosives deathmatch to end all deathmatches.
Chris Rodgers: Unbelievable…
The main camera cuts back to the central wrestling ring in the epicenter of the arena where barbed wire wooden planks have been set up over C4 Explosives in each corner of the ring. All of the ring ropes have been replaced with barbed wire and at the base of the ring is a large digital timer which has been set to ten minutes and rigged to a small bomb underneath the ring.
Chris Rodgers: I’m being told that if a winner hasn’t been decided in ten minutes the whole wrestling ring has been set to blow.
Scott Slade: Whoever came up with this idea is a real twisted bastard…
“Hillbilly Deluxe” by Brooks & Dunn starts to play on the sound system and the man known as Huckleberry walks out onto the stage. The Koreans boo him louder than any Ultimate Wrestling member so far yet. The “death to American” chants soon follow as the southerner makes his way down the aisle and toward the booby-trapped ring. Huckleberry tries to turn their attitudes around with a nice jig dance, but it only seems to anger the onlookers more.
Scott Slade: It’s the Huckster! If anyone can get through this one alive it’s the man who wrestles Gators for a hobby!
Chris Rodgers: He may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but sometimes you just need a blunt instrument to get the job done.
Huckleberry carefully makes his way into the ring and his music is soon cut off and replaced by the national North Korean anthem. Everyone in attendance stands up and salutes the Emperor as Kim Ji-Min walks out onto the stage dressed in her military uniform. Kim Ji-Min for the first time shows emotion as a tear comes to her eye. This is one of the proudest moments of her entire life and it means everything to her.
Chris Rodgers: Wow… I think a chill just went up my spine.
Scott Slade: This woman has been our living nightmare for the past week. She is the most sadistic lady I’ve ever met.
Chris Rodgers: The things she did to poor Walter… the man will never be the same again! God Damn it! It ain’t right Slade!
Scott Slade: Poor old Huckster has no idea what he’s walked into…
Ji-Min enters the rigged ring and then bows respectfully to her opponent. However, Instead of bowing back at her in respect, the Huckster turns around and bends over and pulls down his draws and moons Kim Ji-Min with his bare ass and the entire stadium including the Emperor while he’s at it. A commotion comes over the spectators as many of the men cover the eyes of their women.
Chris Rodgers: Ha!
Scott Slade: What in the world is that crazy hillbilly doing! Doesn’t he understand what he’s involved in here!
Chris Rodgers: If there was ever a silver-lining moment in this whole crazy fucked up tournament it was that moment right there!
To say that Kim Ji-Min is offended would be the understatement of the century. The irate martial artist launches into a furious attack and front kicks the Huckster right in the rear end sending him flying into the barbed wire ropes which ensnare him and tear unrelentingly into his flesh. The Koreans cheer as he screams in pain trying to tear away from the ropes. Kim is on Huckleberry immediately with a jumping ax kick that lands directly on the back of the hillbilly’s neck. Huckleberry collapses frontwards onto the mat reaching back at his neck in pain. Ji-Min then begins stomping on him vindictively looking to inflict serious bodily harm.
Scott Slade: Not the way Huckleberry wanted to start this match I would imagine.
Chris Rodgers: He definitely succeeding in firing Kim up, but I don’t think her stomping a mudhole in him was part of his plan Scott.
Scott Slade: Kim Ji-Min has Huckleberry back on his feet and she snapmares him up over and onto a C4 plank!
The C4 explodes on Huckleberry’s backside and the force is immense. The explosion blows huckleberry up back onto his feet and into the barbed wire ropes which he uses to support himself as he tries not to lose consciousness from the extreme pain. The hillbilly is drenched in his own blood with gashes and cuts all over and a burned backside. Smoke clouds fill the ring from the first C4 that was just ignited as the fans chant “Death Sport” and cheer their countrymen on.
Chris Rodgers: Good God! How is that crazy bastard still on his feet!
Scott Slade: The smell of burnt flesh is nauseating, I can only imagine what the Huckster is feeling right now!
Kim Ji-Min moves in to finish Huckleberry off and runs at the injured hillbilly. She launches into a flying dragon kick targeted at Huckleberry’s head, but the little Appalachian dives out of the way just in time and Kim Ji-Min snares herself into the barbed wire and then spills over the ropes. The barbed wires rip large gashes into her lower body as she falls to the floor. The blood begins to stain her military uniform as she lies on the floor breathing heavily.
Chris Rodgers: Huckleberry got out of the way just in time! Kim Ji-Min went for the home run and came up empty!
The fans boo heavily as Huckleberry carefully steps out of the barbed wire ropes and onto the outside apron. The southerner is covered in blood and has a wild look in his eyes as he leaps off of the edge of the ring and nails Kim Ji-Min with a missile dropkick that sends her flying backward into the steel guard railing.
Scott Slade: Oh my! The Huckster is fighting back! He just knocked that bitch six ways from Sunday!
The Koreans behind Kim Ji-Min push her back forward towards Huckleberry, but she is unable to mount an attack as Huckleberry kick’s her in the gut and then DDT’s her onto the concrete floor beneath them. Ji-Min lays on the floor dazed from the blow she just suffered as Huckleberry gets back to his feet slowly. The Koreans boo him relentlessly as he raises his hand up in defiance to them and their attitude towards him.
Chris Rodgers: That’s it, son! Get after her! Finish her off!
Kim Ji-Min attempts to get back to her feet but is intercepted by Huckleberry who lifts her up onto his shoulders and begins squeeling like a pig, infuriating the Emperor, and the Korean spectators in the process. He then spins her around a few times before slamming the martial artist onto the concrete with an Alabama Slam. He then picks up Ji-Min and tosses her back inside the ring.
Scott Slade: 7 Minutes left on the clock and the Huckster is taking the fight back into the ring. Wait! He’s motioning to the top turnbuckle! He’s going for something big!
Huckleberry drags Kim Ji-Min onto one of the Planks and carefully places her on it purposely making sure not to set off the explosive beneath it. He then quickly makes his way to the turnbuckle and climbs up onto the top barbed wire rope. The Koreans look on in astonishment as Huckleberry sacrifices his well-being to leap off of the top rope and nails a Swanton bomb on Kim Ji-Min. The impact sets off a massive C4 Explosion that blows both fighters off of the mat as wood shards and splinters fly all over the place. A small hole in the ring appears as the smoke clears from the detonation origin. Both fighters lay on the mat motionless about four feet apart from each other. Kim Ji-Min’s entire backside has been burnt black and some of her hair has been charred from taking the brunt of the C4 explosion.
Chris Rodgers: My God! I think they might be both dead after that! What on earth was Huckleberry thinking?
Scott Slade: Neither one of them seems conscious! Referee Hei Ryung is moving into the ring to examine the fighters! This could be it… let’s just hope the Huckster’s okay…
Hei Ryung enters the ring and begins examining the fighters and signals for the match to continue. The spectators begin to cheer impressed that both combatants are still alive after such a devastating impact.
Chris Rodgers: Looks as if they're both still breathing!
Scott Slade: Barely… get up, Huckleberry! Finish this thing!
Huckleberry is the first fighter to show signs of life as he struggles back to his feet using the barbed wire ropes to pull himself up and find some stability for his footing. The effort cuts his hands badly and blood begins oozing from his palms. It’s clear that the battered and bloody man from Georgia is exhausted and hurt, but he continues on even with the extreme loss of blood.
Chris Rodgers: The Huckster is up! He’s up on his feet and he’s looking put an end to that psychotic bitch!
The American stumbles over to Kim Ji-Min and attempts to pick her up, but from out of nowhere the Korean warrior low blows the Huckster in the groin dropping him to the ring mat. The Koreans watching cheer her on as she gets to her feet and attempts to catch her breath. Ji-Min shakes off some of the cobwebs and then turns her focus on her opponent. Huckleberry manages to get to his feet while Ji-Min is recovering and just as he turns around to face his opponent, Kim launches into a crazy butterfly kick and wallops Huckleberry straight in the face almost taking his head clean off. The little southerner flies back and lands on his rear end in the corner turnbuckle on the far right side of the ring.
Rodgers: No!
Scott Slade: Kim Ji-Min fighting back after nearly being blown to pieces!
Chris Rodgers: She might be evil incarnate, but even I have to respect this gutsy performance with the stakes being as high as they are!
Scott Slade: Only four minutes left until that bomb goes off under the ring though. One of these two has to end this thing quickly or they might both be leaving in body bags!
Ji-Min picks up Huckleberry from the cornerback onto his feet and begins grinding his forehead on the top barbed wire rope. Huckleberry’s face becomes a lacerated mess as blood pours out of his forehead, down his face, and onto the mat. As the Huckster frantically tries to wipe the blood from his eyes, Ji-Min kicks him in the spine with a stiff savate kick that drops him to his knees and then follows it up with a brilliant sidekick to the face which knocks Huckleberry to the ring mat.
Scott Slade: Oh man! Huckleberry is in trouble now!
Chris Rodgers: This woman’s kicks are devastating as Sato’s. In fact, her fighting style is actually quite similar.
Ji-Min follows up her impressive attack by dropping to the mat and locking in a leg scissors submission hold on Huckleberry. Wrapping her muscular legs around his throat she attempts to break his neck or suffocate him to death. Blood pours out of the forehead of Huckleberry as he fights the hold and attempts to stay alive.
Scott Slade: No! Kim Ji-Min has locked him into a tortures leg scissor hold! She’s trying to end this thing!
Chris Rodgers: Only two minutes left on the bomb timer Scott! I’m starting to get real nervous here!
Scott Slade: The Huckster has got to fight it!
Chris Rodgers: Listen to these Koreans right now! They know Ji-Min is close to finishing this fight!
Huckleberry digs down deep somehow, almost as if he’s found his spirit animal, and begins to fight out of the leg scissors hold. The Korean fans hostility feeding his effort as he pries open her legs and yanks his head out of her grasp. The two fighters get to their feet at the same time and begin exchanging rights and lefts with Kim completely abandoning her martial arts training in favor of fisticuff brawling. Blood spatters and flies all over the ring after every blow as the digital timer reaches 59 seconds remaining.
Scott Slade: Incredible! The Huckster fighting back!
Chris Rodgers: This little runt's got more heart than ten men combined!
Ji-Min goes for a standing sidekick but misses Huckleberry who dodges the attack with his light feet. He takes advantage of the situation by grabbing Kim by the back of her head and bulldogs her straight into one of the last remaining planks rigged with C4. The explosion blows up in Ji-Mins face and sends both fighters once again into the air and then quickly back onto the mat.
Chris Rodgers: Holy shit! I think he blew her face clean off!
Scott Slade: Hell yeah Huckleberry!
Kim Ji-Min lay’s on the mat motionless with her face a bloody and burnt disaster. Emperor Jong-Un stands up in concern for Kim as he stares at her lifeless body in the ring. Huckleberry has begun to roll around on the mat as he fights off the pain of having absorbed a third C4 discharge. Referee Hei Ryung rushes into the ring risking his own life with the seconds counting down on the time bomb. After quickly examining Ji-Min he calls for the gong and for the timer on the time bomb to be stopped.
Chris Rodgers: Huckleberry has done it! He’s escaped the deadly clutches of Kim Ji-Min! I can’t believe it! The Bitch is dead! Long live the Huckster!
Valora Salinas and Abishag rush out to the ring escorted by Korean soldiers as they help Huckleberry onto his feet and get him backstage for whatever medical attention they can get. The rest of the Korean soldiers who had been guarding the ring enter inside with depressed looks on their faces and pick up their fallen sister in arms. They put her on a stretcher and carry her out of the stadium as the spectators look on in uncomfortable silence. Suddenly the Korean National anthem begins to play as Kim Ji-Mins body is carried back up the ramp into the backstage area.
Chris Rodgers: Looks like we’re being told there is going to be small intermission before the next fight.
Scott Slade: Man, it’s like some sucked out all the energy in the arena. It doesn’t look like anyone here thought Ji-Min would actually lose.
Chris Rodgers: The Ultimate Wrestling roster has been impressive against Jong-Un’s champions that's for sure and Emperor does not look happy about it.
Check part 2 for the continuation!
PART 2: - @ultimatewrestlin/ultimate-online-wrestling-ch-12-death-sport-part-2