PSW 2030 Draft II - First Impressions

As Sara Williams makes her way to the back, the responsibility of providing play-by-play fall to two men seated at ringside. One man, a middle-aged, bearded Croat dressed in a pale blue suit is "Striking" Daryl Stroligo. The other, an equally wisened Pardo with a chin puff, wearing a big feathered hat, a white Zoot suit and round shades, is the "Carnival King" Diogo Santos.

SDS: Ladies and gentlemen, after that incredible introduction from Mrs Williams, we will now find out who the number 1 overall draft pick will be. 

DS: Calling it now, Daryl. Ngozi's no.1. Gotta keep Balducci happy. 

SDS: Don't start that again. 

DS (shushes him): It's starting. 

Shabani (Clears throat): Ladies and gentlemen, I want to start by saying what a tremendous honour it is to be the author in this new chapter of professional history...

Crowd: Ngozi... Ngozi... Ngozi...

Shabani: ... I intend to make the Madhouse the BEST show on offer...

Crowd: Ngozi! Ngozi! Ngozi!

Shabani: ... which is why I must draft the best.

Campbell rests his elbow on his podium and yawns. 

Crowd: NGOZI! NGOZI! NGOZI!

Shabani: With that said,

DS: Que chato, this lady. 

Shabani: ... for the first pick of the 2030 PSW draft, the Madhouse selects...

Crowd: NGOZI! NGOZI! NGOZI! NGOZI! NGOZI!

SDS: They are loud for the Empress in Sambuca!

Shabani: ... the Rose of Ferocity... SARAH ESPOSITO!

SDS: What?

DS: Who?

Crowd: Yea- BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Campbell straightens and stares at her in astonishment. 

Shabani just looks at the tunnel and claps while aggressive rock music plays on the speakers. 

SDS: A surprising choice from the Madhouse General Manager.

DS: "Surprising"? Darryl, it's stupid! What on Earth is she thi- Oh, my God... Darryl, are you seeing this?

SDS: Yes, I am...

The boos turn into awe of a tall Mexican-Italian woman with cherry red bouffant hair and floral tattoos on her massive arms. She walks onto the stage dressed in black T-shirt, jeans and boots. Her information is displayed on the big screens for all to see. 

SDS: Well, regardless of your expectations, this is one impressive young lady, ladies and gentlemen. Sarah Esposito is a two-time Desi Daru champion and the youngest champion in that tournament's history.

DS: Some underground cage fighter off the street is the number 1 draft pick? 

SDS: That's about as "Psycho Style" as you can get, if you ask me.

DS: Look at her! Girl looks a deer in headlights.

Indeed. Despite the danger suggested by her physique, Esposito's expression is one of discomfort with her position, especially as the boos return. She takes a deep breath and approaches Shabani, who is a holding the steel grey T-shirt of the Monday Night Madhouse. The GM extends a hand, which Esposito accepts before taking shirt and putting it on, and leaving, quickly, as the boos regain their volume.

DS: She's not going to last. I'm calling it, right now. 

SDS: Are you talking about Shabani or Esposito?

DS: Take your pick. 

SDS: Well, it's too early to tell, but it will be a long and hard road ahead.

DS: I just know Balducci's probably punching air right now.

SDS: Will you stop that!

Campbell: Nevah took ya fawr the investin' sort, Shabani. 

The crowd is still booing.

Shabani (ignoring them): I am full of surprises. I believe it's your turn.

Campbell: It is, isn't it? Well, I don't ave some big speech prepared. I prefah action. Tag team action. (The boos cease) Which is why the Fight Pit's first pick ah the PSW Tag Team Champions (Cheers start) ... Axel (crowd explodes) and Oscar, TEAM WALLACE!

A drum beat and guitar riff that wouldn't feel out of place in a Queens of the Stone Age album blasts through the arena.

DS: NOW, THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!

SDS: You could NOT have a stronger start!

Axel, neck-length brown hair and clad in his ring gear, Tag Title over his shoulder, comes out through the tunnel with a confident swagger. Each step in-sync with his music. Oscar follows him, curly hair and moustache, looking every bit the prospective Olympian with his own belt around his waist.

SDS: A tremendous ovation for the veteran Axel.

DS: Eba! Fight Pit's looking like the better show already, Darryl. 

They greet Campbell with firm handshakes and take their respective black Fight Pit T-shirts. 

DS: That's a real GM, right there, Darryl.

Axel takes a moment to point and salute the crowd. Oscar just nods. Then then brother's leave.

Campbell (Smirking at Shabani): Your move, love.

Shabani (hmphs): With the future of the Madhouse secured, I can now focus on the present. And since champions have entered the discussion, the Madhouse's next pick...

Crowd: NGOZI! NGOZI! NGOZI!

Shabani: ... is the number 1 contender to the PSW Jewell's Championship...

Crowd: NGOZI! NGOZI! NGOZI!NGOZI! NGOZI! NGOZI! NGOZI! NGOZI! NGOZI!NGOZI! NGOZI! NGOZI!NGOZI! NGOZI! NGOZI!

Shabani: Ngozi: Empress of the Squared Circle!

The crowd gets on their feet and roars, as a bombastic royal track plays. The Empress, tall, regal and well-dressed with her iconic orange visors walks through the tunnel, waving. 

SDS: The moment we've been waiting for!

DS: Oh now, she's just giving into the pressure. 

SDS: I don't think so, Diogo. There's a strategy at play here-

DS: Strategy, my Brasília bumbum! She knew these people would eat her alive, so she cracked.

SDS: Ngozi's position was secure. While I may not agree with it, a first pick was not necessarily... well, necessary.

DS: The no.1 contender to her World Title, Darryl!

SDS: Like I said, I don't agree with the decision, but I understand it.

DS: Whatever, as long as Balducci-

SDS: Diogo, I am not going to warn you again.

Ngozi takes off her visor and looks Shabani a once-over as the latter extends a hand. The Empress accepts it with a cold professionalism. She takes the Madhouse T-shirt as well and after a long pause, puts it on. She takes a moment bask in the crowd's adoration, before returning to the back.

SDS: A rocky start if I ever saw one. It will be interesting to see how that relationship unfolds.

DS: I give it a week. 

SDS: That's way too harsh and you know it.

DS: Certo, espertinho. What's your prediction?

SDS: I am not going to-"

DS: Come on...

SDS: ... Two months.

DS: YOU'RE ON!

Campbell (claps): Good on ya! Can't ave champs with challengahs, can we? And speaking of (addresses the crowd), ya all remember what went down when the Wallaces walked away with the gold, right? That's why the Fight Pit's next pick goes to the "Mother of Darkness" Tình Nhân (the crowd pops) and her twin sons, Mộng Dữ and Hổn Loạn, PANDEMONIUM!

DS: Pandemonium? 

SDS: I haven't heard that name since '04. My God... 

The light of a lantern is seen in tunnel. Tình Nhân, her face hidden by a mask and hat, walks out, towering over both GMs, only to be dwarfed by her two sons. One man, Mộng Dữ, wears a hideous tentacled mask and moves with a robotic stiffness. The other wears a ridged "angry" mask, looking around and clawing at his own forearms, drawing his own blood. 

The crowd is dead silent.

Shabani tries (and fails) to maintain her stone face, but takes a few steps back. Campbell smiles while holding out his hand. Tình Nhân grips it with a slender, long-nailed hand.

DS: God has nothing to do with this, Darryl. I don't think Campbell's thought this through.

A crack of thunder is heard outside, spooking Campbell, Shabani and the crowd, and disrupting the power in the building, momentarily.

SDS: I don't say this often, partner. But I agree.