Derrick Allen vs. Mr. Wrestling VIII
The Seattle native lurked to the ring to the thunderous claps and distorted bass of AWOLNATIONS' attention deficit disorder anthem; “Sail." As the pianos gave way to the self-loathing vocal track; Derrick methodically stalked toward the ring with a paranoid twitch. The fan reaction was one of mixed emotions. Derrick was a local, which boded well with all, but he brained "Sup Pop" Scott Douglas last week and possibly took out the man that thus far has represented Seattle in the IWF.
Anderson: There he is! The man that single handily ridded the IWF of Moppy McMopstien.
Creed: You mean the man, who, amidst a backstage scuffle with Seattle favorite, "Sup Pop" Scott, inadvertently caused a serious injury.
Anderson: Inad- ... what? I don't care. Douglas isn't here, and that is always good news, Creedy-boy.
Mr. Wrestling VIII, already positioned in the ring, attacked as Derrick Allen slid inside underneath the bottom rope. Mr. Wrestling would attempt to capitalize on Allen's prone position on entry with a stomp that quite possibly could have created a mud hole. That is if Allen had actually stayed still long enough to give way to such an attack. Switching momentum from sliding forward to rolling vertical; Allen nearly escaped what would have been a bad start to what would become a less than difficult completion.
Tony Daniel's frantically called for the bell.
Creed: Well, here we go folks. Derrick Allen and Mr. Wrestling VIII in a exhibition style match up.
McGinnis: Nothing really on the line here except the almighty bragging rights; which can, sometimes, prove to be the making of an incredible match up.
Allen quickly snapped to his feet as Mr. Wrestling found no one to be at the home his boot had just knocked on. Derrick Allen would waste no time taking it to VIII with a flurry of lefts and rights that would land his opponent back first in the turnbuckle. Mr. Wrestling would attempt to mount a defense and/or escape but every fist thrown would be met with a block and a fist in return, for good measure. The escape he would so desperately seek would only come as the result of a spinning back elbow, and running bulldog.
Having his face planted into in the canvas seemed to take quite the toll on Mr. Wrestling as he was drug to his feet with ease and laid back down with a properly set drop toe hold. Either in a show of skill or possibly just a demented violent streak, Allen would float into a excruciating half crab.
McGinnis: Beautiful display of technical prowess!
Anderson: Break his leg, like you broke Moppy's skull!
Tony Daniel's would, short thereafter, force the rope break as a Mr. Wrestling nearly reached out to safety. Once released, Mr. Wrestling rose to his vertical stance slowly as Derrick Allen got an ear full from Referee Daniels for hesitating to break the previous hold.
Mr. Wrestling would use the distraction of the IWF's, seemingly, only contracted in-ring official to surprise Allen with a flying cross body.
Anderson: No, no ... that's cheating!
Creed: For once, he is technically right.
McGinnis: No quarrels here. And as it has been said cheaters never prosper.
And on this night, the most certainly would not. Allen caught Mr. Wrestling mid-splash and instantly slammed him to the mat with an incredible force not yet seen in this promotion. Rather than attempt the pen, Allen rose to his knees and gazed out into the packed Moss Bay Event Center with an look of disconnectedness and paranoia. With no pin attempt; Tony Daniels would begin the standing ten count.
Daniels: One ... !
Anderson: One, two, TEN! He is done!
Creed: That was quite the Powerslam, but I wouldn't count the masked Mr. Wrestling out just so quick.
Daniels: Two ... !
Anderson: I would, One, two, ten! Done! Adios ... muchaos! And you winner, and STILL reigning champion of Scott Douglas' career ending concussions, Derrick Allens.
Daniels: Three ... !
Creed: Allens? Plural, Terry?
Anderson: Yeah, "Blame It On My ADD" Derrick Allens, right?
Creed: No, its ... you know what? You're his biggest fan, suddenly. Call him what you like, I guess.
Daniels: Four ... !
Amidst the slowest ten count ever witnessed, Derrick returned to his vertical base and paced around the ring for a short amount of time until he grew impatient . With a handful of hair Allen would drag Wrestling to his feet and send him to the ropes with a hard Irish Whip. Returning from the ropes, Mr. Wrestling, would duck a lariat and find the elastic like spring of the opposite ropes. His return, however, would not bring favorable results as Allen tossed up his right foot and used VIII's momentum against him.
Creed: Oh my, that is the same standing side kick, a Super kick, if you will that sent Scott Douglas' head crashing to that steal chair last week!
Anderson: My new favorite move! The ADD Kick! It WILL get your attention!
Much like Douglas last week, Mr. Wrestling would take the blunt force to the underside of the chin and instantly would collapse like a sack of old potatoes. Derrick motioned to the audience by clapping his hands in a succession of three that it was time to go for the three count. The building set off like a pack of Roman candles. Derrick basked in the audible pandemonium briefly before hold one solitary finger up and waving back and forth to signify that this match was not yet at its finish. The crowd, much like Derrick entrance, met the native with a mixed response. Some, clearly, felt that it was time to take the win and leave with your head held high. A small subsection of others, Allen included, felt it was time to cross the "T's" and dot the "I's" on live television.
Creed: Folks, this match is clearly over. For what reason Derrick Allen has decided to just rub this victory in, in unbenounced to me at this time. This is simply despicable.
Anderson: Get him! Get him! Do that top rope, flippy thing, or whatever!
Creed: The Shooting Star Press?
Anderson: That's not what it's called, Creed. And here I thought you were a journalist!
McGinnis: Allen is heading for the corner.
Creed: It's called the Fremont Plunge, Terry. But as a student and long time broadcaster, of course I know it is the Shooting Star Press.
Anderson: Fremont Plunge!
As Terry "The Idol" Anderson screams out a term he learned three seconds earlier, Derrick Allen launches from the top turnbuckle with an insatiable appetite for elevation, velocity, and force. Allen crashes down on the masked man and takes his wind from him amongst other things. Allen, who appears to intend more harm before wrapping this up, instinctively hooks a leg and Tony Daniels drops to make the count.
Anderson: One, two, three! It's a wrap. The Sub POPPER takes the victory, and all of Seattle, nay ... The World can now rejoice.
Tony Daniels calls for the bell and raises Derricks hand in victory only to once again be shoved away.
Winner: Derrick Allen (Fremont Plunge, 3-count)
Creed: The World, Terry?
Anderson: Well, at least the world of professional wrestling.
Derrick Allen motions toward the time keeper in a beckoning motion.
Creed: Well, it looks like ... as Terry has dubbed him, "ADD" Derrick Allen wants a microphone. Might we see and apology for last week's brutal and unfortunate backstage episode with Scott Douglas.
Anderson: He better not!
Derrick: Now that's out of the way, I have something to say to you feeble minded individuals here tonight!
The crowd erupts in a deafening chorus of disapproval at the former South Park, Seattle resident.
Derrick: Douglas! Oh, I know you're here, sir. I know you, and I know how you operate! You're back there somewhere, right now, milking your injury for the sympathies of others! All the while posing and smiling just so that everyone will think you're the concement team player. Injury or not, "Sub Pop" Scott is here with bells on! Oh, happy day! Because how would we little folk ever manage without the likes of a washed up, skinny-fat, want-a-be grunge poser traipsing around the City like he's our (bleep) damned Messiah!
Anderson: He won't dare show his face!
Creed: Let's hope not, as we saw earlier tonight, Scott Douglas' medical clearance has not yet been issued by medical professionals that attended to the concussion he suffered just a week ago.
The lost grunge classic, "Baby Takes" by Green River, cues up and rings out over the public address system and incites the Seattle crowd to come to their feet. Scott Douglas emerges slowly, and with measured movement, from the curtains and onto the ramp way.
The nearly capacity crowd inside the Moss Bay Event Center lets loose and the fan fare slowly turns from yelling, screaming, and the occasional two fingered whistle to a harmonized chant of "Sup Pop" Scott. Derrick sarcastically introduces his rival over in an attempt to undercut his pop.
Derrick: Ladies and Gentlemen of Seattle, it's Curt Cobain!
Douglas holds his hand up and soaks in the approval of his city; ignoring Derrick's comments. The crowd reaction simmers momentarily as Scott's adopted theme fades out.
Derrick: Or is it Steve Growl? Is there "Foo" to fight, sir?!
Derrick pauses momentarily awaiting response.
Derrick: What? Did your brain get rattled so bad you forgot to bring a mic? Or just how to speak, sir?
As Derrick questions Scott's remaining brain function, the dilapidated event center speakers ring out once again, this time with the slow grinding sounds of Mudhoney's "The Rose." The fans in the building don't initially know what to make of the tune or who to expect to emerge from the depths of the backstage area.
Anderson: What now?
Creed: Well Ladies and Gentlemen, for anyone just joining us: after a brutal victory of Mr. Wrestling VIII, Derrick Allen promptly called out, in no uncertain terms, "Sub Pop" Scott Douglas and much to the surprise of us all, he is in attendance this evening!
Anderson: Why the hell is she out here?
Courtney Allen steps from behind the curtain and the crowd again pops; twice as loud as before. She presents Scott with a microphone and the two wait for the crowd to calm down before Scott addresses his girlfriend's agitated older brother.
Douglas: Really, sir? You gave up that incredibly lucrative run in the Great White North to come down here and get smacked with a bottle of hooch, take the head off of an over-grown luchador, and generally be a pain in my ass?
Derrick finds humor in Scott's jab and raises the mic to his mouth yet again.
Derrick: Well, sir... Being a thorn in your side was just a contractual perk to be perfectly honest. I had Art toss that in there alongside a few other things; if you catch my drift, old friend.
Douglas: Good talk. Are we done here or are you going to explain why I'm out here on a night I'm not even getting paid?
Derrick: Good talk, sir? The whole point of all of this is for the great "Sub Pop" Scott to finally man up, bring his overrated ass down to the ring, and face the past!
Douglas: Since you asked so nicely, sir. I suppose I can oblige an old friend.
Douglas, much to Courtney's dismay, begins his walk down to ring side. She attempts to stop or at least slow Douglas but of course is no match for his size or determination. Derrick readies himself in the ring and beckons for Douglas' arrival.
Creed: I imagine security will be here any minute. Scott Douglas is not cleared to compete here and even the smallest blow to the head could easily exacerbate his condition.
Anderson: Hit him in the head!
McGinnis: This is a bad move on the part of Douglas. He should be fully aware, at this point, that he is barred from competition until he gets cleared medically.
Douglas gets a few steps ahead of Courtney and she pleads from the background in desperation. Douglas circles the ring with his eyes fixated on Derrick Allen in the ring. Courtney abandons the chase and hits the ring as Douglas makes it to the time keepers corner and commandeers his seat.
Creed: Here we go folks. This is going to get real ugly; real fast. Can we get some officials down at ring side, please.
Anderson: One can only hope, Creedy-boy! For the ugly, not so much the officials.
Douglas slides the chair under the ropes and rounds the corner post to take the metal stairs up to the apron.
Derrick: I like the way you think, sir! Especially since your recent history with folding chairs has been less than favorable.
Courtney rushes to Douglas and attempts to coax the love of her life to stand down as he enters the ring. They trade words for a moment and Courtney backs off but remains between the pair. Douglas picks the chair up from the canvas and unfolds it in the corner opposite of his would be combatant; Derrick Allen.
Derrick: What the hell is this, Scotty? Did you come to fight or take a load off?
Douglas: I came to see whether or not you still had enough self control and moral fortitude to restrain yourself from attacking a injured man. I mean, really ... Senior Wrestling Forty Five wasn't enough for tonight, you sociopath? Question; what does your therapist think about your profession?
Derrick: Cut the semantics, Scotty! Me and you, let's do this... right now! Or should I say ... Nathaniel!
Scott Douglas springs from his seat and the two clearly intend to meet in the middle of the squared circle as Courtney frivolously hold her arms out, still positioned between each.
Creed: Where is security? Ladies and Gentlemen I apologize for this interruption.
Just as Aaron Creed questions the staff and their decision making skills the Chain Reaction theme, "Just Let it Go" by KHZ, rings out over the tonight's over worked P.A. system and Art Mori emerges from the curtains.
Creed: Finally. I'm sure Art will put an end to this ridiculousness.
Anderson: No! We are THIS close to getting rid of Scott Douglas' ridiculous career!
Both Douglas, and Allen stop in their tracks and turn their attentions to Art Mori on the ramp way.
Art Mori: Hold it right there! Allen, lay one hand on Douglas and you violate your morality clause! Boys?
Douglas takes back to his seat as Derrick loses it and vents his frustrations off mic toward Art Mori as security and a few of Seattle's finest appear on the ramp way and head toward ring side.
Douglas: You signed a morality clause? Do you know what morals are?
Art Mori: As for you Douglas, draw or no draw ... Your record is horrible, and you know you shouldn't even be out here right now! You want to beat each other's brains out? Fine. But it will not be here! "Sub Pop" Scott Douglas verse Derrick Allen at SURGE! That is, of course, pending Douglas' medical clearance.
Douglas: I'll be there ... with bells on, sir.
Derrick: So be it.
Derrick drops the microphone to the mat and takes a few steps toward the seated Douglas. The security a ring side pump fake their ring entry and wait to see what will actually take place. Derrick turns his back on Douglas in attempts to tempt Douglas to take the first shot.
Anderson: What the hell is he doing?!
Creed: This is an odd move from Allen.
Douglas rises from his seat and places his hand on the back of the steel chair. Security hits the apron as he folds the chair up and Courtney pleads with both arms out and palms out. Scott picks the chair up as a "Knock Him Out" chant slowly builds but remains scattered. Scott looks around at the security, the crowd, Courtney, and Art on the ramp way.
Art Mori: Don't do it, Douglas! Save it for Surge!
Douglas cocks the chair back and security hits the ring. He drops the chair to the canvas just before they can properly get in position and exits the ring. Courtney follows shortly after as Derrick holds his hands up and out as if to motion a confused mind state.
The Chain Reaction theme plays as Douglas and Courtney walk back down the aisle. Douglas glances back occasionally and Courtney tries to keep in moving forward and to ignore Derrick Allen. Art slips behind the curtains to take care of more company business.
Creed: Well, apparently Douglas takes the high road, and we have our third officially set match for the IWF Supershow!
Anderson: Allen should have taken his head off and been done with it, right here.
Creed: Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be right back with more IWF action, momentarily. Stick with us!
