dstephe4 Posted March 17 Author Share Posted March 17 (edited) Above: Other diaries bring you pictures of awe-inspiring wrestling legends, athletes at the height of sporting prowess putting their bodies on the line, and sexy valets in lingerie. I bring you big, ugly, obscure hydro-electric dams from the arse-end of Russia. You'd expect nothing less from a 4x Diary Of The Month winning dynasty such as this. The Ministry Of Propaganda were determined to build up Ilja Dragunov as ‘the face of the victorious modern Russia’ – a sort of wholesome, Christ-like ‘f*** you’ to the nation's many, many enemies – kind of like America's ‘Uncle Sam’ except a lot more real and much more sweaty. For the record, Ilja absolutely was not okay with any of this, but nobody thought to ask him. Besides, this is Russia; there'd be a bullet in his ass if he said ‘no’. As part of his role as this Messiah-like bastion of Russian values, Ilja spent most of his spare time getting dragged from one bulls*** publicity event to another. On this particular day it was the opening of a new hospital. Or a church. Or a shoe repair facility. Or a smelting yard. Or a pencil factory. Or something. I can’t remember. If you’re forced to swallow enough bulls*** it all starts tasting the same. But whatever the occasion was, this one lives fondly in my mind. We were in the town of Zeya, in the Amur Oblast region, a place so d***-smashingly unremarkable, boring and uninteresting that it could only possibly exist in a place like Russia. It’s one of the very few places on Earth with a TripAdvisor page that’s absolutely, completely empty. Back in the year 19-who-gives-a-crap, a bunch of Russia's dullest Communists stumbled across the beautiful River Zeya, and decided to f*** it up by building a big, ugly, grey-ish, brown-ish, turd-coloured hydro-electric dam on it. And that is the only noteworthy thing to happen since the town was founded in 1906. Christ knows why The Ministry had dragged Dragunov (and by extension, us) here – the only possible reason perhaps being this was a pit-stop on the way to somewhere less mind-numbingly, tragically, life-alteringly s***ty. I was annoyed because The Ministry’s insistence on us frequenting this bizarre, empty s***hole had taken us far from where I’d wanted to go in our fledgling ‘World Tour Of Russia’. I’d planned on heading back down what I’d nicknamed ‘Russia’s wang’ – back South towards Vladivostok again. I was thinking of doing our show somewhere like Davydovka or Tavrichanka – important places, that actually matter. Places with something to see. Locations with something more than a s***ty, ugly old dam and the wet stench of rust and failure. I wanted us to go anywhere other than a place like Zeya. I don’t know if I’ve got the point across yet, but Zeya sucks. “It is just a little detour” Oleg Matytsin had said when telling me the news. Turns out his ‘little detour’ was a mere 2,146 Kilometers (1,339 miles) from where the RFW actually wanted to go. That’s a 27 hour drive. That’s roughly half the length of the whole USA. That’s a detour that took us more than the whole length of Japan from where I’d wanted us to be. I wouldn’t have minded if we’d ended up somewhere nice, except Zeya is nothing but a vast, empty s***hole. Above: Just a 'little' detour?! Despite my frustration, we couldn’t exactly say ‘no’. We were still in deep s*** with the Russian Ministry for destroying that Sputnik Lunar Module during Episode 11. Sure, Koyla Siply getting his head bashed in by a priceless piece of space-race history made for great TV, but our attempts to crazy-glue the thing back together after the show had appeased nobody. I had big plans for Episode 12, and being shot to death by our shady overlords would have been inconvenient to say the least. So I decided to be a good boy and play along with the Ministry’s bulls***, cockamamie scheme of bringing wrestling to the masses. Suffice to say morale was low as a result. Zeya was about as much fun as a cavity search. The guys needed cheering up. Fortunately something would happen that’d put the smiles right back on everyone’s faces. Half the roster had showed up to this mind-numbing state-sponsored event. It had nothing to do with publicity or solidarity or any of the usual stuff – they were just bored, so tagged along for the free hotdogs. This was Zeya, after all, the place with nothing to do for over 100 miles in any direction, other than the Museum of the History of Construction of Zeya Hydroelectric Station (Музей Истории Золотодобычи) – which is somehow even less fun than it sounds. So as you can imagine, the arrival of World Champion Ilja Dragunov got the locals talking. There was as close to a ‘party atmosphere’ as you can get in a town where all the buildings were painted the same shade of brown-ish grey as the dam to stop people getting ‘too aspirational.’ The man himself was a little late arriving, so we did the only sensible thing and drank heavily until he turned up. When he finally got here, however, there was something odd about him – something... different... “What the holy f*** have you done?!” I screamed. I was the first to see him, and there was no way I was keeping quiet about it. Seconds later came the laughter. And I’m not talking a little snigger here – I mean the full, uncontrollable belly laughter that takes over your whole body like a shockwave, the kind that makes you howl so hard your lungs start to hurt. Then slowly, one by one, the other RFW guys noticed it too... “What the f*** is that on your chin?!” Our referee ‘Boris’ yelled with both astonishment and terror, covering his eyes as if to shield them from the horror before him. “It must die! Kill it immediately! Kill it with fire!” shrieked Alex Koslov, clutching his big furry Russian hat to his chest in fear. “Dragunov what the hell have you done? What's wrong with your face? You look like a man who gives dogs haircuts for a living.” This was coming from a stupefied John Hennigan. He would know, to be fair. “You look like Colonel Sanders and Popeye had a tragic, mutant baby together” said Shane Douglas through his laughter. “You’re all being ridiculous” sulked Dragunov defensively. He was trying to play it cool, but his blushes of embarrassment gave him away. Soon his whole head would be red with shame. “It’s not fair. Sting gets to have a chin beard, and nobody gives him any crap about it” he whined. That’s because I’m a legend” said the Stinger, appearing magically behind Ilja from out of nowhere, like a ninja, scaring the crap out of our World Champion in the process. “My facial hair looks resplendent. Yours looks like the vagina hair of a 1970s porn star that’s let her standards slide” he added with authority. “Holy Christ! Did a hamster crawl onto your chin and die?!” Exclaimed Edge, arriving on the scene just now and being amazed at the sight that greeted him. “Dragunov, you are meant to be an icon for all of Russia - so why the hell are you trying to look like the Monopoly man?” Now Steven Seagal was here, and he wasn’t impressed either. “Nah, he looks like the Pringles guy” pondered Edge, staring at our champion’s chin with wonderment. “Nobody will follow you if you look like that. You’re meant to look like a leader of men, like an icon for a whole nation to unite behind. But now you look like a small, retarded goat” Seagal added, shaking his head sadly. “It was the Ministry! They made me grow this thing!” Protested Ilja. Nobody bought that crap. He was fumbling his words. Panic was setting in. “Bollocks. I believe they made you wear that ridiculous furry coat. Nobody in their right mind would wear that God-awful thing. But even the clowns that run this country wouldn’t want you, their golden boy, to look like a gerbil was having sex with your face” I responded. Everyone around us nodded sagely in agreement with these wise words. “Did you grow a proper beard, then have a terrible accident with the scissors?” Now Dragan Spazic was here and he was just as horrified as the rest of us. “I’m not taking fashion advice from a fool in a bright pink suit!” Ilja snapped back, bitchily. “Are you aware of the terrible prank that's been pulled on you? While you were asleep someone's cut off all your pubes and superglued them to your face!” Alexandr ‘Vertigo’ Klapstov was here, dressed in a pair of leather trousers, a ‘Cane Dewey’ vintage ECW t-shirt and his trademark Star Trek Geordi LaForge visor. He looked ridiculous, but he still looked a hell of a lot better than our champion. “You look ridiculous, Klapstov! You look like a 3rd rate Comic-Con reject!” Dragunov replied, venomously. “My wardrobe has given me an army of sexy Sci-Fi babes at my beck and call. That beard will give you nothing but fleas and a rash!” Lord Nerd fired back, smugly. “That beard looks like a nest created by the world’s smallest, saddest little bird” added Spazic. They were ganging up on him a little now. I should probably have put a stop to this, but I was too busy laughing my ass off. “Did you grow that thing as a bet? A dare?” Asked Rico Bushido, while poking the beard with a finger to check whether it was alive. “Did you grow that thing because without it you look like one of those hairless cats that rich people carry about?” Asked Bogdan Kilmov. Ilja snarled at him for that. He clenched his fists. He was ready to go. But no-one was backing down – this was too much fun. “You surely saw how bad you looked before you came here, right? I feel like our World Champion should be able to afford a mirror” added Kilmov with a naughty little giggle. “Bogdan, you still have that massive bandage on your head. It’s been weeks since the... incident. When the hell are you going to take that stupid thing off?” Seagal asked, shaking his head in dismay. “You look like a Sikh” he added. “The doctors said the cut was so deep they found carvings on my skull” said Kilmov calmly, as if this were a perfectly normal thing to be saying. “I look better than Dragunov anyhow. The guy looks like Dick Dastardly from Whacky Races” said Bogdan, getting the conversation nicely back on track. We all burst out laughing. Hysterical, uncontrollable laughter. Even the stony-faced, emotionless Seagal cracked a smile. Dragunov looked like a defeated man. “I was sick of everyone telling me I looked like that evil prince kid from Game Of Thrones!” We burst out laughing again. Ilja was burgundy with anger. Nobody cared. The silly b*****d brought this on himself. Finally, our title holder cracked under the pressure. “Okay, you assholes! Alright! I admit it! This beard was a terrible mistake! The whole internet was saying I looked like Draco Malfoy from those Harry Potter movies! I had to do something about it!” “Now you look like Macaulay Culkin during his drug phase.” I said, matter-of-factly. Was that a step too far? Maybe. I was right though. “I'll get rid of it right away! I’ll shave it off immediately! I was such an idiot! I look so stupid! Can you imagine the humiliation I'd have experienced if I’d gone on TV with this hideous thing on my face? Thank God I can fix this before I become a nationwide laughing stock!” Said Dragunov with urgency, his eyes frantically searching for a razor. “You’re not shaving it. I forbid it. You made the decision to put that awful thing on your face – now you have to live with it.” I said. No way was he getting out of it that easily – this was way too enjoyable. “If you lose the beard, you lose the belt.” Our champ looked like he was about to explode, but I didn’t care. This was the happiest I’d been in ages. His suffering fueled my joy. It sustained me through the stress, the sleepless nights and the endless waves of bulls*** this ridiculous job threw at me. I even printed a little photo of Dragunov and that stupid beard and kept it on my desk – whenever things got me down, I’d just stare at that hairy monstrosity and suddenly I’d be laughing again. Time has passed since this fiasco. The beard is now legendary. It has gained a cult following. Fan forums and Facebook groups still run in it’s honour. Kids wore fake versions of it for Halloween. It became more famous than half our roster. It lives on, to this day, it’s fame not letting it die. You can see it if you want to – bring your family and your friends – it’s right there in The Moscow Museum, in a prestigious place alongside Rasputin and Catherine The Great. As time goes by, everything ends – it is one of life’s few certainties. 2023 ended. Vince McMahon’s vice-like, sweaty grip on WWE ended. Putin’s time as Russia’s President ended. The Russian Federation Of Wrestling ended – but the beard lives on. It will out-last us all. The only things to survive our inevitable nuclear apocalypse will be roaches, germs and that God-damned beard. The universe is strange like that sometimes. Edited March 17 by dstephe4 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dstephe4 Posted March 23 Author Share Posted March 23 (edited) Real World News: Putin Wins Shock Election! He was a big underdog. Nobody thought he stood a chance. The odds were really stacked against him. But somehow this plucky everyman managed to triumph against insurmountable odds. In claiming this shocking victory, Vladimir Putin has shown us all that anything is possible if we just believe hard enough. I'm kidding, obviously. Everyone knows the whole 'election process' in Russia is just one big parabolic circus of bulls***. News outlets are calling it a 'sham election', which is probably an insult to any real sham elections out there. When you have your main opposition publically killed, you can't really call it a democratic process. But go on Vlad, you ridiculous, lumpy old pudding of a man, enjoy your victory. It's the political equivalent of me taking a hefty, meaty dump, flushing it, then victoriously doing victory laps of my bathroom, triumphantly proclaiming myself 'king of the toilet'. I'm genuinely mystified as to why Putin and his clowns even bother with this nonsense any more. Why bother rigging an election you were bound to easily win anyway? Why bother killing an opponent who has about as much chance of becoming Russian President as I do? The whole thing's just a big, lethal pissing contest with a big, balding ball-sack at the top of it. But, on the positive side, Vlad's 'big victory' means more years in power, which means more years of this diary taking the piss out of him. The card for Episode 12 will be posted soon. The results are written, I just need to format it all and add lots of pretty pictures for you all to stare at. Thanks again to you all for following. More frosty Russian nonsense coming soon. Edited March 23 by dstephe4 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
kanegan Posted March 24 Share Posted March 24 Thanks for the shoutout in nominations mate and with Vlad winning, RFW will thrive for many more years. Looking forward to it. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dstephe4 Posted March 27 Author Share Posted March 27 (edited) Another day, Another show. Another stop on our fledgling 'World Tour Of Russia'. And surely another night of amusing, ridiculous Russian nonsense. You wouldn't expect anything less... Above: Maps are cool. You folks dig maps, right? Despite still having no clue what the hell we are doing, we have somehow survived long enough to bring Episode 12 to the masses. And despite my almost aggressively bad booking, this one has somehow managed to be the highest rated show in the history of The Russian Federation Of Wrestling. If anyone fancies putting their predictions forward as to how we somehow managed such a feat, please go ahead, The card is as follows... Edge & Alexandr ‘Vertigo’ Klapstov vs Sting & Darby Allin A main event loaded with talent. Even we can't mess this one up, surely? The Arrows Of Russia (Dover & Icarus) vs Villain Enterprises (Brody King & Flip Gordon) - Semi Final Of The RFW Tag Team Title Tournament. Yes, what feels like the longest running tournament in the history of all mankind is somehow still going. Stick with it though. There's fun stuff coming up. Kris ‘The Falcon’ Jokic vs Ivan ‘The Body’ Markov - For The RFW National Title The most talented (and only) Croatian pro wrestler in history defends his recently awarded bauble against our #1 contender Markov, who won this chance at the gold in a 10 man battle royale at our recent(ish) Event Of The Century. This has the potential to be a decent little match... unless something weird happens... The Dark Church Of Satan vs ??? Until now, our Authority Figure Steven Seagal was determined to handle this dark, spooky threat by himself. But this time things are different. Seagal will call for a brave, patriotic tag team to step up and defend the virtues of all of Russia. But which team shall answer the call? And will they stand a chance against the seemingly indestructible Damien Black and his Dark Church? A point is available for predicting the winner, There's another point per mystery opponent correctly guessed. Episode 12 - Coming Soon Thank you all for reading. It's great to see there's still an audience for this, despite going away for a few months. Please do go ahead and post your predictions below. I've made a funky little template for you to copy and paste, if you like. Edge & Alexandr ‘Vertigo’ Klapstov vs Sting & Darby Allin The Arrows Of Russia (Dover & Icarus) vs Villain Enterprises (Brody King & Flip Gordon) - Semi Final Of The RFW Tag Team Title Tournament. Kris ‘The Falcon’ Jokic vs Ivan ‘The Body’ Markov - For The RFW National Title The Dark Church Of Satan vs ??? @St. Templar @Vandal @DinoKea @GreatreDRagon @Taylor2020 @Just here to look @christmas_ape @SonOfSharknado @Ippon @KingKennit @Pteroid @MidKnightDreary @John Lions @DarEatWorld @ElectricX @knkmaster69 @Old School Fan @kanegan @DinoKea @Jason Phoenix @stratusfaction @80085 @Diddums @jokandra @noteddysteinblock Edited March 27 by dstephe4 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
DinoKea Posted March 27 Share Posted March 27 Predictions Sting & Darby Allin def. Edge & Vertigo The Arrows of Russia def. Villain Enterprises to advance in the endless tournament Jokic def. Markov (RFW National Title) The Dark Church of Satan def. FTR 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
knkmaster69 Posted March 27 Share Posted March 27 Edge & Alexandr ‘Vertigo’ Klapstov vs Sting & Darby Allin The Arrows Of Russia (Dover & Icarus) vs Villain Enterprises (Brody King & Flip Gordon) - Semi Final Of The RFW Tag Team Title Tournament. Kris ‘The Falcon’ Jokic vs Ivan ‘The Body’ Markov - For The RFW National Title The Dark Church Of Satan vs MCMG 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Valkyria Posted March 28 Share Posted March 28 Read the entire diary in a couple of days and I really had a lot of fun. Nothing beats the Devils toe. Winners are underlined. PS: Kris Jokic is not the the only Croatian Wrestler in History. Josip Peruzovic (aka Nikolai Volkoff) was Croatian too. Edge & Alexandr ‘Vertigo’ Klapstov vs Sting & Darby Allin The Arrows Of Russia (Dover & Icarus) vs Villain Enterprises (Brody King & Flip Gordon) - Semi Final Of The RFW Tag Team Title Tournament. Kris ‘The Falcon’ Jokic vs Ivan ‘The Body’ Markov - For The RFW National Title The Dark Church Of Satan vs The Viking Raiders 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
StanMiguel Posted March 28 Share Posted March 28 Sting & Darby Allin The Arrows Of Russia (Dover & Icarus) Kris ‘The Falcon’ Jokic The Dark Church Of Satan 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Taylor2020 Posted March 30 Share Posted March 30 Edge & Alexandr ‘Vertigo’ Klapstov vs Sting & Darby Allin The Arrows Of Russia (Dover & Icarus) vs Villain Enterprises (Brody King & Flip Gordon) - Semi Final Of The RFW Tag Team Title Tournament. Kris ‘The Falcon’ Jokic vs Ivan ‘The Body’ Markov - For The RFW National Title The Dark Church Of Satan vs ??? (honestly I dunno who the opponents might be) 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Old School Fan Posted March 30 Share Posted March 30 Edge & Alexandr ‘Vertigo’ Klapstov vs Sting & Darby Allin The Arrows Of Russia (Dover & Icarus) vs Villain Enterprises (Brody King & Flip Gordon) - Semi Final Of The RFW Tag Team Title Tournament. Kris ‘The Falcon’ Jokic vs Ivan ‘The Body’ Markov - For The RFW National Title The Dark Church Of Satan vs The Viking Raiders (I still think of that team by its original ROH name of War Machine, though 😏 ) 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dstephe4 Posted April 1 Author Share Posted April 1 On 3/28/2024 at 6:45 PM, Valkyria said: Read the entire diary in a couple of days and I really had a lot of fun. Nothing beats the Devils toe. Winners are underlined. PS: Kris Jokic is not the the only Croatian Wrestler in History. Josip Peruzovic (aka Nikolai Volkoff) was Croatian too. Thanks for the nice comment - glad you enjoyed this diary so much you read through it all. It's great to see people coming on board and enjoying this glorious, ridiculous mayhem. Thank you also to those who have posted predictions so far. Episode 12 results will go up in a day or two, so there's just a little bit of time left for anyone else who wants to have a go. The predictions have all been very wise and logical so far, and definitely what a talented, sober, knowledgeable booker would do. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ElectricX Posted April 1 Share Posted April 1 Edge & Alexandr ‘Vertigo’ Klapstov vs Sting & Darby Allin The Arrows Of Russia (Dover & Icarus) vs Villain Enterprises (Brody King & Flip Gordon) - Semi Final Of The RFW Tag Team Title Tournament. Kris ‘The Falcon’ Jokic vs Ivan ‘The Body’ Markov - For The RFW National Title The Dark Church Of Satan vs ??? 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
80085 Posted April 2 Share Posted April 2 Ok. Here's the predictions bruv. Sting and Derby will beat Edge and Hacker Dweeb because Style Squad be getting involved. And because da boi writing this seem to have some massive man crush on Sting lol Russian Arrows who always win will win against the Villains who always lose. And sexpest Scurl will be kidnapped by clowns and forced into the circus or something because thats the sort of thing that happens here. Dark Chruch of Satan win because they are invincible. You keep sayings so mate. My guess is they'll be beating The Hardy Boyz because this diary longs for the year 2000. It YEARNS for that age bruv! Jokic the Croat beats Markov because Markov will be eaten by a little dog like a snack. Tell me I'm right man. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dstephe4 Posted April 3 Author Share Posted April 3 (edited) Broadcast on Rossiya 1. Held deep within the damp, hot, sweaty bowels of The Institute For Industrial Solidarity And Hydroelectric Research Building #3, deep in the underbelly of the rusty, odd-smelling, ugly but impressively huge dam in Zeya, in the Amur Oblask region of Russia. 1,742 Lightning Bolt Energy Drink scented locals were in attendance. Above: I'd gotten so tipsy on champagne that I'd accidentally ordered French flags instead of Russian ones. Fortunately our viewers were even more drunk than I was - it was nearly a month after Episode 12 aired before someone sobered up enough to notice. Above: So little happens in Zeya that even the queue for our event was depicted by a local artist for the town newspaper. For Episode 12 we weren't messing around, we got immediately into the action. We went straight to our ‘glorious’ RFW National Title match. In a show of ‘unity under Russia’ our champion Kris ‘The Falcon’ Jokic and his challenger Ivan ‘The Body’ Markov came to the ring together. There were flags everywhere. There were blue, white and red fireworks. A fat old guy in a tuxedo belted out the Russian national anthem at the top of his lungs. It was wonderful, and patriotic, and... lasted about 30 seconds... right until about a millisecond after they got into the ring. That’s when the treacherous Tamerlan Rasuev jumped them from behind and started beating the crap out of them. We’d gotten maybe a minute into our broadcast before the plans all went to s***. Rasuev had a massive chain wrapped around his fist and he was hitting people in the penis with it – it’d worked for him in the past and it was becoming ‘his thing’ now. Unsurprisingly the presence of Rasuev brought out his hated rivals – former UFC supremo Andrei ‘The Pitbull’ Arlovski and former champ Alen Khubulov. They started kicking ass. Rasuev did some more Chain-Related Penis Destroying. Jokic and Markov, both rather annoyed that they’d been blindsided and assaulted, joined in the fun. Everyone got hit with the RFW National title belt at least once. A big Russian flag on a big, heavy-looking brass pole came into play and made a satisfying ‘twang’ noise with every skull it dented. Everyone was having fun – including our Authority Figure Steven Seagal who watched the whole debacle with a grin on his face, until he put a stop to it “in the name of fairness, competition and common decency.” His usual blizzard of shirtless ‘students’ jumped in, brought a halt to the violence, and dragged everyone’s ass back into the ring. Above: 'The Falcon' Kris Jokic, our proud National Champion. This photo was taken before Rasuev hit him in the d*** with a massive chain, obviously. “It’s been ages since our TV show had a National Title bout on it. Khubulov, Rasuev, Arlovski – I’m not letting you three mess it up just because your blood feud got in the way. This is a 5 Way Dance for the wonderful National belt, as of right now! Who knows, maybe you guys will finally settle your score.” Seagal was nodding at his own wisdom. His massive kimono rustled magnificently around his sizeable frame as he did so. “Wait! That’s not fair!” Whined Markov. Our champion Jokic wasn’t thrilled either. Seagal shrugged. It was medically, biologically and scientifically impossible for a human being to give less of a s***. Then suddenly one of Seagal’s many shirtless Russians came forward. You could tell it was Bogdan ‘Hardcore’ Kilmov right away from his massive head bandage. The silly tit still looked like a human lightbulb with that thing on his skull. When was he going to take that thing off?! “I want in on this” he shouted. “Whatever” said Seagal, adding him to the mix without a care. Markov carried on moaning “It’s so unfair! I had to beat, like, 9 other guys at The Event Of The Century to win this title shot!” He whined, stomping his feet in temper like a child. “Yes. How sad. Anyhow, let’s begin!” hollered Seagal, ringing the bell. Angle Rating: 56. Kris ‘The Falcon’ Jokic (C) vs Ivan ‘The Body’ Markov vs Tamerlan Rasuev vs Alen Khubolov vs Andrei Arlovski vs Bogdan ‘Hardcore’ Kilmov – A 2 Way 3 Way 4 Way 5 Way 6 Way Dance – For the RFW National Title It wasn’t long before this match split into two – the feuding Rasuev, Arlovski and Khubulov on one side of the ring beating the crap out of each other, and Jokic, Markov and Kilmov on the other side doing the same. The three foes were so consumed in their vendetta they wouldn’t have noticed if the building were on fire and the room filled with smoke. If Khubulov and Arlovski had teamed up, they could’ve taken care of Rasuev then taken care of business for the championship gold. But by now they were literally kicking each other’s asses for the right to kick Rasuev’s ass. And Rasuev had made it his life’s work to destroy them both. With all three men having legit grappling backgrounds you can imagine the submissions they pulled out of the bag. Limbs were twisted in ways even horror movies haven’t thought of. It was great entertainment. On the other side of the ring were three guys who actually remembered there was a title at stake. Jokic used every high flying stunt in his arsenal, taking every risk imaginable to defend the strap he won against the odds at The Event Of The Century. Markov fought like every muscular, well-greased beefcake you’ve ever seen grace the squared circle. Kilmov was freaking out a little less whenever anyone went near that ridiculous bandage on his head, but still looked like he’d s*** his pants every time a fist went near his face. He did get hit a couple of times, and thankfully his head didn’t explode into an awful death-fountain of blood and brain-goop. The ‘two matches in one’ schtick added a little dynamism to a bout that was otherwise a rambling, uncoordinated clusterf*** of a battle. There was no psychology. Apparently that is bad. But it did give our production team the chance to break out their fancy new split-screen thing they’d been itching to unveil, so at last someone came out of this happy. The match ended when the two fighting groups finally bumped into each other, knocking all but one of the competitors onto their asses in a heap. Jokic, somehow the only one left standing, seized the moment – he hauled his spritely Croatian arse up to the top rope and hurled himself into a Senton Bomb which somehow inexplicably squished all 5 rivals at once. He sprawled himself over the pile of bodies like a human blanket, got the fortuitous 3 count, then hauled ass to the back with his belt before anyone could grab him. Match Rating: 52. After the match, Ivan Markov was pissed. He threw our referee ‘Boris’ to the ground in anger. Despite his huge arms, massive bodybuilder physique and hands that looked strong enough to crush a skull like a Pepsi can, the big guy looked like he was about to burst into tears. “I’ve had enough! This was supposed to be my night! I was the number one contender! This was my fight with Jokic! Yet suddenly every b*****d and his boyfriend is invited into the match like it’s a God-damned frat party!” He looked like he was about to do something crazy. Security ran in to settle him down, but the man they used to call the ‘Lokomotiv’ threw them out of the ring one by one. Within seconds a pile of unconscious bodies lay in a heap. One by one Seagal’s Russians charged at him. One by one he knocked them all out. We’d never seen him in ‘wrecking ball’ mode like this before. He looked unstoppable, single-handedly destroying any fighter who came near him. But then suddenly he stopped, his face lost all colour, he was frozen in fear. He backed off in a panic, tripping over one of the unconscious Russians, falling on his ass. And then he was doomed... Above: The fluffiest, most malevolent force in all of wrestling. ...as the unstoppable killing machine Gerald The Dog pounced on him, put its fangs round his throat, ready to rip out his jugular if he so much as moved a muscle. The arrival of Gerald, Destroyer Of Worlds could only mean one thing – ‘The Fabulous’ John Hennigan was here. Moments later the stench of perfume and flower blossoms confirmed it. Suddenly our bizarre scene now presents us with a pile of unmoving security guards, a menagerie of broken Russian tough guys, a washed-up 80s action movie star in a Japanese dress, a terrified bodybuilder who may or may not have s*** his shorts, the world’s most terrifying poodle crossbreed, and a man dressed in a pink fluffy trenchcoat made entirely of Flamingo feathers. It was a lot for our viewers to take in. Hennigan has his pouty, angry face on as he tells the world he wants revenge on Alexandr ’Vertigo’ Klapstov. He’s pissed at losing their first battle due to Klapstov hacking the venue’s systems, turning off the lights, f***ing with the fireworks, and all the other glorious nonsense that happened that day. The Fabulous One is also steamed about his second loss at The Event Of The Century, due to Edge interfering and Vertigo pummeling him with a laptop in their rematch. “What was that so-called referee doing?! Had there been an official involved with any kind of class, none of these illegal, dangerous shenanigans would’ve been allowed to happen. And then last week in our 3vs3 match that same stripy-shirted simpleton allowed Goldberg to walk out on me, then Daniels to walk out on me, leaving me in terrible danger, allowing The Chin (Edge), The Dweeb (Vertigo) and The Caveman (Markov) to have their fun kicking the crap out of me. I was humiliated thanks to that referee’s incompetence! I demand a rematch with the one they call Vertigo. And I demand another official be in charge!” Seagal pointed out that we only have one referee, saying that if The Fabulous One wanted someone else to officiate the bout, it’d have to be a volunteer from the roster. Of course, nobody volunteered – nobody was that stupid. There was a big, epic silence. Then finally Markov agreed, having gotten away from the fearsome Gerald long enough to raise his hand like the dumb kid at the back of the classroom. His skin looked like he’d lost a tickling contest with Wolverine. Seagal looked puzzled as to why Ivan would volunteer to officiate a match where Gerald would be ringside, given his recent history as that yappy little b*****d’s chew-toy. But our lumpen, jaded Authority Figure was already bored with this nonsense, so just shrugged and went along with it. He made it official: Next week it’ll be Hennigan vs Vertigo with Markov as the Special Guest Referee. ‘Once more to settle the score’ our marketing team called it. “A f***ing travesty” was Hennigan’s rather more colourful name for it. Angle Rating: 59 Vlad Radinov was backstage getting his interview on. Sting and Darby Allin were there. It was all very exciting. To be honest, the ‘Party Tsar’ was only there because I thought his terrifyingly bright array of shirts and jackets would add some colour to a scene full of black and white corpse paint and trenchcoats. “Well, well, well, it looks like we’ve got ourselves a main event, folks! And let me tell you, Darby and I are more than confident about our match against Edge and Alexandr Klapstov. You see, confidence comes from experience, and we’ve got plenty of that” Sting stormed in, because he’s a legend, and legends don’t have time to wait to be asked a question. “You challenged...” began Radinov, but he barely had time to breathe before Mini-Sting got going. “That’s right, Sting. We’ve been through the trenches, we’ve faced some of the toughest competition in this business, and we’ve come out on top. Edge, you’re a legend in your own right, and Klapstov, you might be the ‘new kid on the block,’ but we’re here to welcome you to the big leagues with a taste of what we bring to the table” said Allin enthusiastically. He reminded me of Scrappy Doo. “So you believe your chances...” Radinov shot his question into the mixer with the speed and precision of a Bruce Lee throat-punch, but he needn’t have bothered. “The whole of Russia knows this match is not just about Edge and Klapstov. No, it’s about us sending a message to the entire locker room. We’re not here to play games; we’re here to win, and we’re here to make an impact. And after we’re done with those two, we’ve got another challenge waiting for us.” Sting was swinging his baseball bat as he talked. He must have been serious. The fact that he nearly decapitated the big, hairy, silky, velveteen and fawn interviewer standing next to him didn’t seem to matter. “You are in prime position in the RFW Tag Team Title Tournament, with betting odds having you...” That was nearly a full sentence. Nice try, Vlad. “That’s right, Sting. Next week, we’ve got a date with destiny in the Tag Team Tournament semi-finals against the Viking Raiders, and what better way to prepare than by taking on Edge and Klapstov tonight? So, boys, get ready for a fight you won’t forget, because we’re not just confident; we’re unstoppable” declared Darby, puffing out his chest and shoulders to look less like a kid at a costume party. He clenched his fists to let us all know he was serious too. “Am I invisible or something?” Vlad said to the cameraman, bewildered. He opened his mouth for another question, and that’s about as far as he got. Our interviewer was getting rather sick of this now. “So, whether you’re Edge, Klapstov, or anyone else in our way, remember one thing: the Stinger and Darby are here to stay, and there’s no stopping us now!” Sting smiled triumphantly, then turned to our intrepid interviewer, suddenly remembering there were three people in the promo, not just two. “Vlad! I bet you have some questions for us!” he said with a half-assed smile. “Screw you, you creepy old black and white b*****d!” Shouted Radinov emotionally, before storming out the room, slamming the door behind him. The Stinger looked bewildered. “Don’t worry, these Russians are emotional creatures” offered Allin, patting his mentor on the back. The wily old legend shrugged. The two of them then stared dramatically into the camera until our production team eventually got the hint and cut to a commercial. Angle Rating: 68. The Arrows Of Russia (Dover & Icarus) vs Villain Enterprises (Brody King & Flip Gordon) - Semi Final Of The RFW Tag Team Title Tournament. There are two arrows in the Arrows Of Russia. There are three villains in Villain Enterprises. You can get an idea right away how this one went down. You’d think people would’ve been wise to this by now, but once again everyone was shocked and appalled when this thing ended up as a 3-vs-2 battle. As with every other Villains match, Marty Scurll got involved and a dastardly beatdown ensued. As with every other Villains bout, our referee ‘Boris’ seemed strangely ill-equipped to stop this from happening. Maybe this time he had an excuse – he knew Seagal would kick his ass if the Semi Final of his treasured Tag Team Title Tournament ended in an unsatisfying Disqualification. Things looked bleak for The Arrows. It seemed The Villains would notch up their first victory in forever. But then help came in a very bright, very pink form. It was at the exact moment Scurll was signaling for Brody King to do his All Seeing Eye finisher and end the match - that’s when the beer can smacked into the back of his skull. That’s when Marty toppled and fell like Saddam Hussein’s statue. That’s when Dragan Spazic celebrated the best throw outside of the World Series by opening another 3 cans and somehow downing them all at once. That’s when Brody and Flip rushed to their fallen leader’s aid, unwisely turning their backs on their opponents. That’s when Dover and Icarus snuck in behind, hitting their newly-christened ‘Doom Shot’ finisher. That’s when our smiling, laughing referee slid in for the 3 count. And that’s when The Arrows Of Russia booked their spot in the final. Above: We were on a mission to get people excited about our tag titles, or die trying (probably the latter). This was an enjoyable match – it’s just a shame so many fans didn’t see it. Despite my best efforts to make people give a crap about our Tag Division, the crowd were much more interested in the match later on with Edge, Sting and those other two guys. Whole sections of our fans ran off to the beer tent instead. Maybe we should’ve held the bout there. What happened next brought their attention back to the ring though... Match Rating: 46. The lights went out. Ominous yet wonderfully noisy heavy metal hit the air. All 1,742 fans in attendance fell deathly silent as the rabid melodies of ‘666’ by Rotting Christ pulverised their ear-drums. And then our spooky, Satan-cherishing, randomly indestructible trio of terror made their way eerily towards the ring. Having witnessed the destruction The Dark Church inflicted on previous shows, Steven Seagal was well prepared. A well-rehearsed, well-executed plan was put into motion. Within moments pretty much every member of the roster rushed down the ramp, forming a human wall between Damien Black, his two followers, and everything else. Black, seeing that he had struck fear into Seagal and the whole Russian Federation Of Wrestling, laughed demonically in satisfaction. Seagal looked pissed off – or about as pissed as that saggy, dough-like lump of a face would allow him to look. He got on the mic and addressed the roster: “Until now I was determined to handle this my own way. But I can see now this is a problem that needs a more... physical solution. I know many you want revenge on Black for his random, violent attacks. Any tag team brave enough can step up. Who will have the courage to fight the very face of evil in defence of this fine company? Which team will dare defend Russia, it’s virtues and it’s values?” he uttered with all the raw power and pizazz of a sloppy turd baking in the sun. There was a fearful, awkward silence. No team wanted to be the next lambs to slaughter. Until finally one team raised their hand, ready to sacrifice everything in the name of Truth, Justice And The Russian Way. Unfortunately for Seagal and RFW, it was 2 Cool, who were not exactly the vehicle of retribution Seagal had in mind. He was even more pissed than before. "What are you gonna do, dance them to death?!" he barked angrily - though that massive, gelatinous face of his barely moved. Scotty 2 Hotty and Rikishi nodded with a big smile. That's exactly what they were going to do. "But there's 3 of them and only 2 of you!" Said our Authority Figure, desperately searching for excuses for this random-ass contest not to happen. "I will assist them! I fear no man! Not even the Satanic Damien Black!" It was ‘Dirty’ Dragan Spazic, who’d put down his beer cans long enough to volunteer himself as a beacon of justice. Seagal literally smacked his head in embarrassment as the pink-suited wonder slid into the ring and embarked upon what was simultaneously the worst and the best display of breakdancing I’ve ever seen. "Is there no end to this man's talents?!" Shouted our commentator Alex Koslov enthusiastically, as our new trio performed the most tragic yet hilarious choreographed dance routine since N-Sync split up back in 2002. Seagal groaned, hung his head in shame, than rang the bell. Angle Rating: 59. The Dark Church Of Satan (Damien Black, Ronni Krimson and Koyla Siply) vs 2 Cool (Scotty 2 Hotty and Rikishi) with ‘Dirty’ Dragan Spazic. It's a battle between the unstoppable forces of evil, The Worm, The Stink-Face, and a lad in a bright pink suit. For the honour of Mother Russia! This match was certainly memorable. It was action-packed. It was strangely entertaining. It was also unequivocally, undeniably, unquestionably absolutely truly f***ing terrible. It was the malevolent power of Darkness, Evil and Satan... versus the power of Dance. Guess which one won. Black and Scotty started the match with a Collar & Elbow Tie-Up, but immediately Hotty broke off and started dancing instead. Black went in with a Rear Waistlock, which Scotty twisted his body to reverse, then let go and started dancing. Black latched on a Side Headlock, which Hotty managed to wriggle out of, before – you guessed it – dancing. Scotty tagged in Rikishi, who joined in the dance, the two of them murdering every late-90s Street Dance manoeuvre ever devised. Suddenly Spazic was tagged in, then there were 3 of them at it. It was like a Backstreet Boys revival in there. It wasn’t wrestling. It wasn’t really dancing, to be honest. I don’t know what the hell it was. But it was fun. Then Scotty tagged himself back in, to complete a three minute sequence containing no actual offensive moves whatsoever. Our fans aren’t exactly wrestling aficionados – they loved this crap. I remember thinking to myself how nice it was of Damien Black to stand there watching this nonsense, but when Scotty suddenly started doing The Worm, that’s when he drew the line, casually strolled over, and Curb Stomped his skull into the canvas. What followed next wasn’t just brutal – it was just plain mean. It wasn’t an ass-kicking, it was a pulverisation. My main memory of it is Rikishi - all 6ft 1, 425lbs of him – just standing there screaming as The Dark Church tore his buddy to pieces like Piranhas. Black and his acolytes had Invincible Satan Power on their side; the poor little American didn’t stand a chance. Finally The Arrows Of Russia, who’d been ringside spectators to this massacre, had seen enough – they jumped into the ring and fists started flying. Realising that conventional violence alone wasn't enough against their supernatural enemies, they decided to get creative. I’m not sure how they managed to detach that section of steel guardrail, but it easily weighed as much as they did – which made their feat of throwing it at Black’s head like a javelin all the more impressive. Damien caught the full impact with his face. It’s the kind of impact that’d surely cripple a man. Rikishi and Spazic pushed the guardrail down on top of Black, squashing him beneath it. Dover and Icarus then climbed the top turnbuckles at opposite ends of the ring, performing a dual Moonsault manoeuvre onto the guardrail, crushing Black beneath. The Arrows, Rikishi and Spazic all piled on for the pin – over 1500lbs in weight combined. But the superhuman Black threw them and the guardrail off like flies. He then calmly got up, completely undamaged, not even slightly stunned. His hair wasn’t even messed up or anything. His shirt wasn’t even creased. Seeing The Arrows in peril, the dastardly lads of Villain Enterprises decided this was the moment to get their revenge for their loss earlier. And that’s when one of our wholesome, family-friendly mass brawls broke out – the highlight of which was definitely Spazic slamming Marty Scurll in the corner, which Rikishi followed up with the most thorough Stink Face in wrestling history. Scurll’s whole head seemed to go missing. It was brilliant. It was around this time, however, that Black and his two creepy cohorts turned their ass-kicking up a notch. They systematically went around the ring knocking out everyone, one by one... including Rikishi who was mid-Stink-Face. The giant 425lbs Samoan was completely out cold, stone-cold unconscious... with Scurll trapped underneath with Rikishi's massive, legendary arse still in his face. It was quite the image. The Dark Church Of Satan destroyed everyone in the ring, but left Rikishi and Scurll there. Even Satanists don't like Scurll I guess. Even after the dust settled and the carnage cleared, nobody could shift the motionless Samoan. A team of half a dozen strong, burly stagehands tried and failed. We just ended up having to leave him there all night, with the terrified, traumatised Scurll trapped beneath, his whole head totally enveloped within that massive, stinky posterior. “Scurll’s squashed under there! Someone should help him!” Hollered Roy Jones Jr. “Why?” Asked his co-commentator Rico Bushido quizzically. “The guy’s an absolute tool” added Alex Koslov, incredulously. “Oh yeah” laughed Jones Jr. “An asshole stuck in an asshole. It’s almost poetic” he said with a chuckle. How right he was. So we left it at that. Match Rating: 44. A hearty serving of commercials, propaganda and Putin followed for our lucky viewers at home. When we returned, Vlad Radinov’s bad luck with interviews continued. Up next was him trying to crack the nut that is Bill Goldberg. “It’s like Rocky Balboa said: life ain’t about how hard you can hit – it’s how hard you can get hit and still get back up that counts! I’m seeing internet dorks and dweebs writing me off already. They’re saying a couple of losses spells the end for ol’ Goldberg. The haters are saying I’m finished, that it’s the end of the line. I got news for you clowns – this isn’t online nerd land – this is real life! And only Goldberg gets to say when Goldberg’s done! Only Goldberg tells Goldberg when Goldberg's finished! The critics are not Goldberg, Goldberg is Goldberg!” He was crimson with anger and stuck in some kind of de-linguistic rage spiral. Old Bill looked like he was about to s*** flames. “Goldberg, I hate to ask this, but a lot of fans reacted negatively to you walking out on your tag partner John Hennigan last week. You walked out of your match against Damien Black at The Event Of The Century - the fans hated that. It wasn’t long since you walked out of that bout where you were meant to be Edge’s partner, but left him to get his...” The self-proclaimed ‘Hirsute Mary Poppins of wrestling’ (his words) was suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Goldberg didn’t like what he was hearing. Goldberg got (even more) mad. And that’s when Vlad Radinov got lifted three feet off the floor by his collar, pinned to the wall, and began sobbing in fear. “What fans?! Goldberg did not run away! GOLDBERG! DOES! NOT! RUN!” The veins in his face looked like they were about to explode like landmines. “Mommy!” bleated Vlad like a frightened little lamb. “He never said you ran. He said you walked out. Different thing entirely” came a voice. It was Roy Jones Jr. Our multi-weight, multi-time former boxing champion had left his commentary position to try to talk some sense into the screaming veteran, before he ate Vlad alive and crapped him out all over the floor. “You can scream at the bearded, velveteen fruitcake all you want. It won’t change the facts. You walked out. You turned your back. And that’s gotten the fans – myself included – all worried about you.” Radinov got dropped on his ass. Goldberg was now missile-locked on Jones Jr, getting all up in his face, snarling. But the Ring Magazine P4P veteran wasn’t intimidated. He didn’t back down, standing his ground and meeting the former WCW champion’s ferocious stare with his own. And Goldberg didn’t like that. He stormed off, screaming with anger and kicking over furniture as he went. Jones Jr sighed and shook his head sadly. “Man, I thought my ass was grass!” Sighed Radinov with relief. Jones Jr looked at the sweat patches on Vlad’s shirt and the suspicious wet patch on the front of his pants. “You should always stand up to bullies. Never be scared of anyone – especially those who seek to get their own way by shouting, intimidation, or with threats of violence. This is Russia, and all men are equal in this glorious nation – and that means you too. If you ever want to remind yourself of that, head down to one of my Putin-Approved™ Boxing Gyms – available nationwide. It’s the first step towards being reborn into the kind of man you’ve always had the potential to be; the kind of man Russia needs us ALL to be.” Upon hearing these ‘inspiring’ and definitely not state-mandated words, Radinov got back to his feet, dusted himself off, and shook Jones Jr’s hand. Both then faced the camera, nodding wisely as our scene faded to black. Это социальное объявление предоставлено вам Министерством общественной физической культуры и здоровья: совместная работа на благо более сильной, здоровой и мужественной России. This public service announcement is brought to you by the Ministry For Public Physical Fitness And Health: working together for a stronger, healthier, more masculine Russia. Angle Rating: 62. The next stop on our action-packed journey through the darker nether-regions of nonsense was the very important, very official contract signing. This is where our upcoming World Title bout would be made official. It was a really big deal. Or we wanted it to look like it was at least. We had a table with a couple of expensive-looking pens on it. We had a red carpet laid out in the ring. We had the contract itself, ready to go, just two squiggles away from an epic rematch between ‘Russia’s Hero’ Ilja Dragunov and ‘American Dragon’ Bryan Daniels. Both men were there, stationed either side of the table, both staring each other down intensely, neither taking their eyes off the other for a second, neither backing down. It was like the Cold War all over again, but on a much lower budget. Seagal was in the ring, giving it the Big Hype. Anticipation was climbing. Tension was building. The fans were digging the hell out of this, all 1,742 of them salivating for next week’s big bout. But then there was suddenly a weird, smothered groaning noise. Slowly it got louder, until the moans grew into a stifled scream. Seagal’s big, tanned, leathery face scrunched up with rage - in the dimmed light he looked a bit like a puckered anus. The camera nervously panned over to the corner of the ring where the weird, rather worrying noises were coming from. That’s when half the TVs in the biggest country on Earth were filled with the sight of Rikishi’s big, unconscious Samoan ass engulfing the whole face of Marty Scurll. Every time the trapped, terrified Englishman screamed it sent ripples cascading through Rikishi’s ass-cheeks like waves on a lake. They were still there. Rikishi was still out cold and unmovable after his match-up earlier. Marty Scurll was still trapped underneath, mid-Stink-Face, screaming into the abyss (literally) for help. Above: Ilja Dragunov, with that dead-gerbil-like beard still on his face. I'd told him if he shaved the beard, he lost the belt. And I meant it. Dragunov and Daniels looked at each other with confused, bewildered eyes. Daniels had wrestled all over the globe, but he’d never seen anything as weird as this. Our World Champion shrugged almost apologetically. “Welcome to Russia” he said with an uncomfortable frown. I think it’s safe to say all the drama we’d built had escaped. “Let’s just sign this thing and get the hell out of here, before the image of Rikishi’s big ass with some dude’s head wedged in it is burned into my nightmares forever” suggests Daniels with fear on his face. He signs so fast his hand is a blur. Dragunov does the same, trying not to stare as the sound of a man sobbing uncontrollably into another man’s anal crevice fills the air. The big rematch is official. The battle begins anew next week. But this wasn’t exactly the big build up we’d hoped for. It was entertaining as hell though. And in the end, that’s what we’re here for, I guess. Angle Rating: 86. After a patriotic newsflash filled to the brim with soldier lads in shiny boots marching up and down a hill for no apparent reason, we were back to the action. “Hennigan, my boy Kulakov has had enough Lightning Bolt to run through the side of a mountain. If you so much as touch this ring, he’ll rip out your spine and floss with it.” ‘The Fabulous One’ had tiptoed all the way to the ring, somehow expecting to go un-noticed in his bright purple coat made of ostrich feathers and mink. His ‘Style Squad’ lackeys were head-to-toe in sequins. How those clowns thought they wouldn’t be visible from ringside is beyond me – they were visible from outer space. Everyone in the ring – Seagal, Dragunov, 'The Nightmare' Vladimir Kulakov, Edge, Alexandr ‘Vertigo’ Klapstov – had stopped what they were doing just to stare at these idiots. (Rikishi and Scurll were in the ring too, but the less said about that, the better.) Our mammoth-chinned Canadian seized the moment and got on the mic: Edge: “It seems I've found myself in quite the circus. John Hennigan, the self-proclaimed 'Prince of Pizzazz' with that effeminate hair that takes more time to style than it does to wrestle a match! You’re more likely to overpower us with your perfume than with your moves!” Klapstov: “Yeah!” Edge: “I mean, look at that hair of yours; it's like you're trying to compete with Rapunzel for the longest locks in the kingdom! Maybe you should trade in your tights for a hairbrush.” Klapstov: “Yeah!” Edge: “And let's not forget your entourage, Bence Toth and Petr Thijani, always kissing your... posterior. I mean, really, guys, I've seen more convincing loyalty from a puppy dog! You three should start a comedy act, it'd be a hit.” Klapstov: “Yeah!” Edge: “Speaking of hits, my protégé Alexandr Klapstov had a blast handing you not one but two losses, John! He enjoyed it so much that he was practically begging for a third round long before you whined your way into a rematch! He's got a ‘Hennigan Beatdown Tour’ poster hanging in his room already. You see, John, he's just getting started on his path to stardom at your expense.” Klapstov: “Yeah!” Edge: “But let's not get ahead of ourselves. As much fun as it is to taunt you, John, I've got my sights set on a bigger prize.” He turned to face our World Champion, Ilja Dragunov, and gave him the ‘evil eyes’ treatment. “I haven't forgotten about you. Once I beat Sting and Mini-Sting tonight, you’re the next one in my crosshairs. I'm coming for that title, and I promise you, John, you'll be watching from the sidelines as I exact my revenge and become the World Champion.” Klapstov: “Yeah!” Edge: “So keep styling that hair, Johnny Boy, because when I'm done, you won't even recognize yourself, and I'll have that championship around my waist!" Klapstov: “Yeah!” Vertigo was really on fire creatively in this segment. Seagal then gave ‘The Nightmare’ a little tap on the shoulder, and RFW’s pet monster responded with a Suicide Dive that splattered our ‘fabulous’ interlopers like roaches. Toth and Thijani hauled themselves to their feet, then hauled ass to the back, screaming like frightened children. Hennigan was red with both rage and embarrassment. “Vertigo! Edge! You haven’t seen the last of me!” He hollered as he retreated. “Enough of this silly crap. Get Sting and that creepy-looking kid of his down here now. I wanna see some wrestling” commanded Seagal. Angle Rating: 65. Edge & Alexandr ‘Vertigo’ Klapstov vs Sting & Darby Allin Everyone was really happy with how well Sting and Darby’s match with FTR went a week or so ago at The Event Of The Century. So in a stunning display of un-originality, we copied the exact same formula for this one. Once again Allin was the sacrificial lamb, as Edge and Vertigo did all manner of cunning shenanigans to stop the Coco-looking kid from tagging in his grown-up. This continued until the crowd’s anticipation levels reached fever pitch. Then came the hot tag, Sting turning back the clock like a one man army for about 60 seconds, Edge would then use his cunning to spoil the party, then we’d start all over again. It’s a work as old as tag team wrestling, but we milked it for everything it was worth in this main event. Everyone was impressed with the quality of it, especially considering they could only use 75% of the ring. Our stagehands had used police crime scene tape to seal off the whole quarter of the ring containing the sleeping Samoan and the screaming Scurll. It looked like the most tragic, bizarre, unhygienic crime scene in sports entertainment history. But our on-form competitors didn’t let that stop them. Klapstov in particular surprised a lot of doubters by hanging with the bigger names without looking as out of place as a nun in a whorehouse. As the only Russian in the bout we gave him plenty of time to showcase his stuff, and the spritely, dweeby little firecracker really went for it. Nobody was surprised when ‘Fabulous’ John Hennigan and his ‘Style Squad’ bozos came strutting back down the aisle like it was their own personal catwalk. Sting was the legal man in the ring, somehow managing to look a million bucks despite having his skull jumped and down on by our geeky Russian. The wily old veteran pretended to be appalled when Vertigo got Powerbombed into oblivion. It was almost artful how he managed to get to his feet just moments after the Style Squad had finished their assault, sending Edge flying off the ring apron into the guardrail with the force of a train-wreck. He pretended to be delighted as ‘The Nightmare’ Vladimir Kulakov attacked like a one-man death-squad and decimated the fashionistas like a shark mauling goldfish. But whether you bought that s*** or not, nobody could deny the victory was handed to him on a silver platter. He looked crestfallen at the manner of his victory, but I could tell the crafty old coot was delighted underneath all that face-paint. None of our drunken, Lightning Bolt-addled fans cared though. They’d seen the Legendary Sting shake his money-maker live in their sleepy little town. They’d seen the world-famous Edge do battle. And they’d particularly enjoyed it when the psychotic Russian war-machine Kulakov chased the Style Squad until they cried. That didn’t cheer up Edge and Vertigo, however, as they dusted themselves off at ringside. Match Rating: 62. As the dust settled, the victorious Sting grabbed a mic and pointed at our champion Dragunov, who’d been watching from ringside with great interest. “Ilja, I wish you the best of luck in your title match next week. I like what I’ve seen of you so far. And I know that with the whole of Russia cheering you on, you’ll find a way to win.” The 1,742 fans ate that one up big time. The crafty old veteran had them in the palm of his hand. “Because when you retain that belt... I’m next!” Before Dragunov could even open his mouth to speak, his mentor Seagal was on the mic, doing the talking for him. “You want a shot at the biggest title in world wrestling? Then I shall give you a chance to earn it. Next week you and your Emo-looking sidekick face The Viking Raiders in the Semi Final of our glorious Tag Team Title Tournament. Emerge victorious, and the Grand Final will be within your grasp. The week after I’ll let you show the world you still have what it takes... against an old rival... it’ll be you and your old friend Goldberg in a #1 Contender’s match!” The crowd were buzzing with excitement. It was like WCW’s heyday all over again, except a lot colder, a lot weirder, and a lot more boozy. "Hang on! That’s not fair! What the hell has Goldberg done to deserve a title shot?!” whined Darby Allin. His voice was deeper than I’d expected. I’d thought he’d sound like Gary Coleman for some reason. Above: I'm still not a fan of that skateboard. “Some fighters have what’s known as ‘Legacy.’ Their actions echo through the generations. Their feats burn their names forever into the pages of the sporting history books. Goldberg has such Legacy, just as much as your mentor Sting. Perhaps one day, when you finish puberty, you’ll understand” said Seagal wisely. And that was the end of that. Dragunov and Sting did a staredown. Because that’s what you do in pro wrestling. It’s the law. I saw this from my position in the control room and thought it’d be a pretty cool visual to end the show on. I pressed the massive red button in front of me that said ‘BOOM’ on it and instantly our venue was lit with a blizzard of pyrotechnics. I pushed the button saying ‘LOUD’ and the speakers shook with the sound of Sting’s theme music Seek & Destroy by Чёрный Обелиск (they’re like Metallica, but much less American, much less upsetting to our overbearing overlords, and a lot more crap. Screw you Oleg for not letting us license the real thing). Then I pulled a switch labelled ‘ENOUGH OF THIS S***’ and the end credits began to roll. Then I cracked open yet another bottle of champagne and sighed with relief that another week of barely scripted nonsense was finally in the bag. Angle Rating: 69. Overall Show Rating: 67. When the credits were done, the cameras returned to an empty venue. The lights were off. The seats were empty – everyone was long gone – except some old dude pushing a broom around the ring, sweeping up the crap left behind after another action-packed episode. It was quiet. Even the muffled screams of Marty Scurll had fallen silent. Was he passed out? Had he fainted? Was he sleeping? Was he dead? Did anybody care? He was still motionless and pinned under Rikishi’s big, family-sized ass, and that was all the information anyone needed. Speaking of which, after hours out cold, the Samoan giant was finally beginning to stir. He groaned. He stretched. He hoiked his massive frame sleepily out of the corner, stumbling a little as he moved. There was something big stuck on his butt, he sensed. He inhaled sharply, then let out The Holy Mother Of All Farts. Whatever it was that was bothering his bottom quickly fell out into a heap on the floor, possibly sobbing. Rikishi was too dizzy to care about that now. His brain was slowly starting to unscramble. His senses started rebooting, one by one. Our Authority Figure Steven Seagal saw there was finally movement and went over to see what was happening. “Everybody’s gone” noted Rikishi with a voice that wasn’t quite conscious. His eyes weren’t quite pointing in the same direction yet. “Yes, Kohai. They left long ago” said Steven with a kindness and a warmth to his voice. “I was in a match. I was wrestling” remembered the big Samoan out loud, trying to hazily put the pieces together. “Yes, you were. It was certainly a... memorable contest” said Seagal reassuringly. “Does that mean I won?” asked Rikishi groggily. Seagal looked over and saw a traumatised, broken Scurll weeping in the corner. "You know what, my Samoan friend, in a way, yes you did." The big, friendly giant smiled. The show closed once and for all with a celebration dance, and a rare smile from our Kimono-clad Sensei. “Yessssss” came Rikishi’s drooling, semi-coherent voice, as we faded slowly into black. Edited May 31 by dstephe4 1 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
80085 Posted April 5 Share Posted April 5 (edited) Did I win, bruv? I feel like I might have won predictions again Great show by the way fella! Edited April 5 by 80085 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Just here to look Posted April 5 Share Posted April 5 Oh my lord ok I decided I would take a rather large break from these forums… well didn’t decide I just kinda did and now I have a large amount of this to catch up on and go through. Good fecking grief. I noticed at the top of this page you mentioned the fact that I took a bit of a hiatus from my predictions, so that’s pretty much the only reason I’m actually typing this as its own comment instead of on the next predictiony thing. I’ll be caught up on this by… idk Sunday at latest. 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dstephe4 Posted April 10 Author Share Posted April 10 It's great to see a good number of people stepping up and having a go at the RFW Predictions Game thingy. Thanks to you all for reading and taking part. Here's how all you fantastic folk fared: Will @80085 storm to victory again? Or will we crown a new champion? Let's see... @DinoKea - 4 points @knkmaster69 - 3 points @Valkyria - 3 points @StanMiguel - 4 points @Taylor2020 - 4 points @Old School Fan - 2 points @ElectricX - 3 points @80085 - 4 points Nobody got any bonus points for predicting that Scotty 2 Hotty and Rikishi would be the surprise opponents for those spooky Dark Church Of Satan guys. To be fair, nobody in their right mind would have. Only someone mildly deranged or peculiar or drunk would come up with something as silly as that. So 4 points seems to be the highest score this time. @DinoKea @StanMiguel @Taylor2020@80085 that makes you all winners I guess! Congrats to you! Awesome people who frequent this diary - thanks again to you all. The card for Episode 13 will go up soon, as will the next chapter / intermission thingy, which is quite possibly the (second) weirdest thing I've ever posted here. See you soon, folks! 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
80085 Posted April 12 Share Posted April 12 On 4/5/2024 at 11:32 AM, 80085 said: Did I win, bruv? I feel like I might have won predictions again Great show by the way fella! So I DID win then bruv! Look at me go mon! Like dem DX bois used to say KISS IT! 😜 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dstephe4 Posted April 14 Author Share Posted April 14 On 4/12/2024 at 7:45 AM, 80085 said: So I DID win then bruv! Look at me go mon! Like dem DX bois used to say KISS IT! 😜 “I was in a match predictions contest. I was wrestling predicting” remembered the big Samoan 80085 out loud, trying to hazily put the pieces together. “Yes, you were. It was certainly a... memorable contest” said Seagal reassuringly. “Does that mean I won?” asked Rikishi groggily 80085. Seagal looked over and saw a traumatised, broken Scurll weeping in the corner a very close predictions contest in which various entrants had emerged with 4 points apiece. "You know what, my Samoan friend 80085, in a way, yes you did." The big, friendly giant 80085 smiled. The show closed once and for all with a celebration dance, and a rare smile from our Kimono-clad Sensei. “Yessssss” came Rikishi’s drooling, semi-coherent 80085's voice, as we faded slowly into black. 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dstephe4 Posted April 17 Author Share Posted April 17 (edited) Welcome to the latest stop on our World Tour Of Russia. Episode 13 comes to you from one of Russia's tropical, sunny, idyllic coastal retreats. This week we're all about Russian palm trees, Russian cocktails served in coconuts, Russian swimsuits, sandy Russian beaches that stretch as far as the eye can see, and clear warm Russian seas. Yes, really. Above: Any of you study Geography at school and really get a kick out of it? If so, this World Tour Of Russia is seriously gonna be your kinda thing. For Episode 13, it was time to turn up the heat. Episode 13 saw the Russian Federation Of Wrestling's fledgling 'World Tour Of Russia' visit the hot, sunny, sandy and very un-Russian seeming Domashlino Beach, situated in Primorsky Krai, near the Gorod Nakhodka region of this massive, mind-boggling nation. This soothing tropical paradise, located on the coastal underbelly of this ridiculously big country, was the extreme opposite of every drab, s***ty Moscovan gulag we'd been dragged to so far on this bizarre adventure. After the aggressively dull pit-stop in Zeya last time, I figured I owed the guys something that'd cheer them up. And there's nothing like sun, cocktails, warm seas and palm trees when it comes to putting smiles on faces. Our venue was to be the Fen-Shuy Resort & Hotel - the kind of place designed for fun, budget-friendly family holidays, not mindlessly chaotic wrestling shows. But our villainous overlord Oleg Matytsin and his ghouls in the Ministry For Sport kept screaming at me about how our shows were meant to be 'family-friendly'. And when it came to venues, there wasn't much that was more family-friendly than this. The hundreds of kids that swarmed about the place like flies couldn't believe their eyes as they shared their water-slides and fountains with wrestling legends like Bryan Daniels, Sting and Edge. It was like a dream come true for the noisy, squeaky little f***ers. The grown-ups sunning themselves in this sandy paradise were just as giddy with excitement. Our roster got a kick out of it too. It was smaller than some of the venues we'd crashed our way through so far. But the place would be packed with kids rather than grown-ups. And, by my reckoning, kids only take up about half the room an adult does. So with that 'unquestionably sound' logic applied, I reckoned we could cram maybe 1,800 or even 2,000 spectators in the hotel's function room without anyone being significantly crushed or trampled. The guys loved it. The kids loved it. The locals wouldn't stop talking about our visit for months. The local press had a field day. The town mayor named a Tiki Hut in our honour. PR-wise we'd hit a home run, with images of our smiling wrestlers surrounded by euphoric, grinning children lighting up the front pages of the whole Russian nation. But none of this was my real motivation for choosing this place. I had business to take care of, without prying eyes getting in the way. I needed everyone to be all happy and distracted, so I could take care of some none-RFW business with nobody asking where I'd gone. And so, as the sun set on our first evening in this sandy escape, I slid away into the sunset, off in to parts unknown, towards what would prove to be one of the most bizarre encounters of my whole Russian (mis)adventure... Anyhow. Enough of all that. Onto the serious business of predictions. Here are the latest 'glorious, war-like encounters' that 'will emblaze the wonderous festival of combat' that would be our next wrestling show. (Those were Steven Seagal's words, by the way, not mine). Here's the spicy s*** we're serving up this time around... ... and on paper at least ... this could be our biggest, most important show in a long time... Sting & Darby Allin vs Viking Raiders - The Penultimate Match Of Our Everlasting Tag Title Tournament The epic, prestigious semi-final of our 'epic', 'prestigious' Tag Team Title Tournament is upon us. Witness with open-mouthed awe as two lads painted up like ghosts take on two lads dressed up as Vikings, in a bout sure to silence any naysayers out there who dare to even suggest that this wrestling thing is fake. 'The Fabulous One' John Hennigan (no doubt with his 'Style Squad' of Benceh Toth and Petr Tihanyi) vs 'The Digital Messiah' Alexandr 'Vertigo' Klapstov (with Edge) - Ivan 'The Body' Markov is the special guest referee for this one. In the latest encounter of what has been a pleasingly amusing feud so far, the glamorous Hennigan and the mother's-basement-scented ex-hacker Klapstov do battle once again. When these two have gone face to face previously, the guy nicknamed 'Vertigo' has come out on top twice, due to various high-tech hijinks. But will this third installment go the same way, or will the flamingo-feather-fashionista turn the tide? Let us all know your prediction! Also thrown into the mix is Ivan 'The Body' Markov, who was 'volunteered' into being the bout's special guest referee after Hennigan refused to let our only official 'Boris' officiate this match. Given Markov's own vendetta with Hennigan's 'spirit guide' Gerald The Dog, this really is one of those matches where anything is possible. 'The Glorious Hero Of Russia' Ilja Dragunov vs 'The American Dragon' Bryan Daniels - For The RFW World Title The big one. A monumental rematch for the ages. A herculean clash pitting the forces of East vs West into a collision-course. But who will win? Will the man with the fluffy, ridiculous beard emerge victorious? Or will the other man with the fluffy, ridiculous beard seize the day? Or will something else happen entirely? This is The Russian Federation Of Wrestling, after all. The whole thing's run by an idiot. A drunken idiot at that. Anything could happen! Episode 13 - Coming Soon! Thank you magnificent online people of this fine forum for your continued involvement. More finely unpredictable nonsense is coming soon. Until then, seeing as how there were a good variety of new faces and old having a go at the predictions last time, I have high hopes for this one. Unleash your predictions below! Sting & Darby Allin vs Viking Raiders John Hennigan vs Vertigo Bryan Daniels vs Ilja Dragunov - For The RFW World Title @St. Templar @Vandal @DinoKea @GreatreDRagon @Taylor2020 @Just here to look @christmas_ape @SonOfSharknado @Ippon @KingKennit @Pteroid @MidKnightDreary @John Lions @DarEatWorld @ElectricX @knkmaster69 @Old School Fan @kanegan @DinoKea @Jason Phoenix @stratusfaction @80085 @Diddums @jokandra @noteddysteinblock Edited April 19 by dstephe4 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Old School Fan Posted April 17 Share Posted April 17 Sting & Darby Allin vs Viking Raiders John Hennigan vs Vertigo Bryan Daniels vs Ilja Dragunov - For The RFW World Title 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dstephe4 Posted April 17 Author Share Posted April 17 Just now, Old School Fan said: Sting & Darby Allin vs Viking Raiders John Hennigan vs Vertigo Bryan Daniels vs Ilja Dragunov - For The RFW World Title Wow, that was FAST!! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
DinoKea Posted April 17 Share Posted April 17 Predictions Sting & Darby Allin def. Viking Raiders Vertigo def. John Hennigan Ilja Dragunov def. Bryan Daniels - RFW World Title 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Valkyria Posted April 17 Share Posted April 17 (edited) Sting & Darby Allin defeat the Viking Raiders (Unfortunately, because I really like the Viking Raiders) John Hennigan defeats Vertigo Ilja Dragunov defeats Bryan Daniels to retain the RFW World Title Edited April 17 by Valkyria 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Taylor2020 Posted April 18 Share Posted April 18 Sting & Darby Allin vs Viking Raiders John Hennigan vs Vertigo Bryan Daniels vs Ilja Dragunov 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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