PSW Madhouse Episode 4 - Luisa Festa vs Roger Evans (c)

Briar Lane: The following is a Hardcore Match scheduled for ONE FALL, and it is for the Psycho Style Wrestling Bloodbath Championship!

The crowd cheers. Evans stands in one corner, no longer wearing his hat or his shirt, cracking his taped-up knuckles with the title on his shoulder. Festa does her tubeman dance in the opposite corner.

Briar Lane: Introducing first, the challenger, from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, standing 5 feet 6 and weighing in at 129 pounds, LUISA FESTA!

The crowd cheers again as the camera focuses on Festa, who continues her tubeman dance without a care in the world.

Dominga: There's still time for the test.

Shamoon: Drop it already.

Dominga: Never!

Briar Lane: Next, the champion, from Long Beach, California in the USA, standing 6 feet 2 and weighing in at 206 pounds, he is the Crimson King, ROGER EVANS!

Evans sticks out his middle and index fingers, as well as his thumbs on both hands and then crosses his forearms. The crowd boos.

A.B.: Roger Evans, the reigning Bloodbath Champion, about to face potentially his toughest test yet.

Referee Marcia Lima takes the title and holds it up for all to see.

A.B.: A significant size difference like this should never be discounted, but putting it aside, I'm wondering who you two think has the advantage.

Dominga: Do I have to?

A.B.: Yes.

Dominga: Urgh. Festa's a complete weirdo, but... she's... skilled and crafty, and surprisingly dangerous. Evans is a complete tonto and a rookie, but... he can be pretty vicious. It's hard to say.

Shamoon: I'm going with Evans.

A.B. & Dominga: Of course you are.

Shamoon: No, seriously, listen. Evans pointed it out earlier. Ascension, the Fatal-4-Way Cage Match to crown the first-ever Bloodbath Champ. Festa was in that match, and she put up a decent fight, but she was also kind of bounced around. And like Dominga said, Evans has a mean streak. I really don't think this environment suits her.

A.B.: Well, we're about to find out. Let's not forget, ladies and gentlemen, this is the first of two title matches tonight. As booked at the top of the show, Empress Ngozi will defend her Jewell's Championship against former champion Queen Cbra.

Shamoon: That's assuming no one interferes on Moore v Chen.

A.B.: We're also going to hear from the Madhouse's own Thunderweight Champion, El Demonio de las Heladas, a response to Fight Pit challenger, Danys Vités' heartfelt testimony on Friday.

Dominga: I can't wait! But first...

Lima hands the belt to a crewman and calls for the bell. Evans shakes his wrists and walks forward with his hands raised. He then drops them upon realising that Festa is still doing her tubeman dance. 

Dominga: Does she know the bell has rung?

A.B.: I don't know if she remembers where she is, or if she's just suckering him in?

Evans keeps walking, slowly while squinting and leaning to get a good look at her face. Festa just keeps dancing, as if she has no idea he's there.

A.B.: She's definitely suckering him in.

Evans stops and slides his foot closer to hers.

Shamoon: Seems like Evans caught on to that.

The moment his boot touches her feet, she suddenly stands stiff as a board with her fists clenched and her eyes wide, staring right into his. Evans yelps and stumbles backwards. The crowd laughs.

A.B.: Festa putting the champ off-balance

Evans (laughs): Okay, you got me. (Approaches, extending a hand.)

A.B.: What's he up to?

Shamoon: He's just showing respect, is all.

A.B.: Like he showed her earlier?

Festa tilts her head one side, then the other and then accepts. He pulls her into a neckbreaker, but she spins out, pushes him away and dropkicks him in the back. This leaves his head and arms sticking out of the ring on the second middle rope. She slides out of the ring and hits him with an enziguri.

Dominga: Who the hell did he think he was fooling?

Festa heads back in and pins Evans for a two-count. She rolls him on his stomach, then places her foot on the back of his knee, lifts them both up and brings them down.

A.B.: Festa going after the leg. No doubt preparing it for the Samba Lock.

She does this three more times before attempting her signature hold. He rolls on his back, kicks her away, then crawls out of the ring. She follows him, but stays on the apron, then backs away to a corner.

A.B.: Setting him up. Going for a meteora, but Evans catches her. Ooh, Festa driven back-first onto the grass with a powerbomb!

Evans gets her to her feet, then picks her up on his shoulders for a fireman's carry. He rolls forward, slamming her on the mat and ends up in a standing position from which he performs a moonsault.

A.B.: Beautiful sequence from Evans! Festa just barely kicking out.

Dominga: I admit that was impressive. If he keeps that up, he'll be champion for another week. (Widens eyes) Come on, Festa! Shake it off!

Shamoon: Hey, you're supposed to be impart-

Dominga: Shut up, Shamoon!

A.B.: Evans whipping Festa into the barricade. Festa leaps onto it. What balance! 

Evans charges at her, but she backflips off the barricade, dodging him. She attempts go after his leg, but gets kicked in the face.

A.B.: Great counter by Evans. No looking for a vertical suplex. Festa, using her legs to block. Now with punches unches him in the side, forcing him to let go. Ooh! Evans with a knee to the mid-section, and now he tosses into the barricade once more.

Shamoon: She didn't jump that time.

The crowd boos and jeers. He turns his back to Festa in order to taunt them.

A.B.: This crowd is letting the Crimson King know how they feel.

Dominga: And he responds like the idiot rookie he is.

Festa slowly gets to her feet, only to be handed a folding chair by a fan. 

Shamoon: You going to complain about that?

She then whacks Evans in the back with the chair, sending him stumbling forward.

Dominga: Nope.

Without thinking, the rookie champ turns around and eats another, harder chairshot right in the face.

A.B.: Oddio, did you hear that?! Festa going for the cover.

Lima: One! Two! Thr-

A.B.: Evans kicks out!

Shamoon: It has already been established in past matches that he is tougher than he looks.

Festa takes his leg and puts his ankle over the knee of his other leg, then takes that leg, straightens it and pulls it back, forcibly stretching the leg and twisting the knee. 

A.B.: Stump puller-like manoeuvre by Festa. Twisting the knee and stretching the hamstring of Evans!

Dominga: Yeah, some great wrestling, but THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A HARDCORE MATCH! Where's the blood?!

Shamoon: I think she just chose the stipulation so she could pin him anywhere.

Dominga: Then call it something lame, like Falls Count Anywhere. I want more violence!

Evans grunts and grabs his knee. He sits up, but she kicks him in the back, which forces him back down. She then takes the chair and places it on his chest.

A.B.: Double stomp onto by Festa! How is that for vicious?

Festa throws the chair away and takes hold of a leg, then does a spinning toe hold and grasps the other leg, crossing them into a "4". Evans, equal parts having the wind knocked out of him by the double stomp and distracted by the... view, doesn't react quickly enough until she lets a out a very familiar sounding "WOO!" before spinning him into her signature Inverted Figure 4 Leglock.

A.B.: Samba Lock by Festa! Out on the grass! Nowhere to go! Evans scratching and clawing at the grass and dirt! Trying to crawl away!

Shamoon: To where? There's no way he could reach the ropes? And even then it's no DQ!

Dominga: TAP! TAP! TAP!

Crowd: TAP! TAP! TAP!

Evans groans and screams, dragging Festa along with him on the field as she applies more and more pressure. 

A.B.: Evans may tap here! He's got his hand raised. No, he's still crawling! And he-

Shamoon: He's crawling under the ring! 

Dominga: Is he reaching for something? He won't get any power or leverage-

Shamoon: No, he's out of sight. The ref can't see his head or hands. She doesn't know if he's tapping out.

A.B.: Lima can't make a call here! She's trying to tell Festa.

Dominga: Just break his leg! Then you'll know.

A.B.: Look at the look on Festa's face

Festa's white teeth and white eyes are out in full force. Evans, his upper body obscured by the ring skirt, starts to turn and twist his body to one side. His screams and groans can still be heard.

A.B.: Look at Festa's face! Oddio, I think she might just do it!

Shamoon: No. No! NO!

Dominga: Sí. Sí! SÍ!

That is until she puts her hands over her face again and...

A.B.: EVANS JUST PULLED OUT A FIRE EXTINGUISHER!!! EVANS IS BLASTING FESTA IN THE FACE WITH A FIRE EXTINGUISHER!!

Shamoon: He's blasting some fans too!

Dominga: Why is that under there?!

Festa, coughing and wheezing and covering her eyes, is forced to let go of the hold and try to get away. 

Shamoon: You have to give him credit for his ring awareness. Come on!

Dominga: I don't have to do anything!

A.B.: Indeed we do. A resourceful Roger Evans saving his title reign and his leg.

Dominga: Yeah, about that last one, look at him clutch it. I don't think he can stand after that.

A.B.: Evans dragging himself to the chair. Using it to push himself up. Festa wandering blindly. 

Shamoon: Oh no. They're coming over.

Evans limps after Festa, chair in hand. Meanwhile, the Afro-Brazilian is trying desperately to wipe and shake the powder off her head and face and violently coughing.

A.B.: Evans stalking Festa. If he hits her with that chair, he'll split her skull open.

Dominga: Dammit! Well, at least we'll get some colour in here.

Shamoon: You are evil! Oh no. Roger, don't! Don't, it's not worth it!

Dominga: Do it!

Evans continues to limp closer and closer to Festa from behind, slowly raising the chair higher as he prepares to bludgeon his challenger. The crowd is in a frenzy, screaming for Festa to watch out.

Shamoon: NOOOO!

Then he stops and lowers it.

Shamoon lets out a loud sigh of relief.

Dominga: COWARD!

He instead focuses on shaking his sore leg to get the circulation back.

A.B.: And here we see the damage that was done with the Samba Lock. Hard to tell if Evans chose mercy or if his leg started acting up.

Festa finally gets her sight back, and it which point she feels his presence behind her and rolls forward to create distance.

A.B.: Great instincts by Fes-

Festa lands the roll, and quickly turns around. At this exact moment, Evans throws the chair at her, and she instinctively catches it. Evans then uses the same leg he was shaking to-

A.B.: SUPERKICK! EVANS SUPERKICKING THE STEEL CHAIR INTO FESTA'S FACE!

Dominga: I TAKE IT BACK!

Shamoon: Festa's busted open! This is why I hate hardcore matches, but still this kid is amazing! I keep telling you!

Evans limps for a little bit before falling on top of her for the cover. Lima slides in with the "One! Two! Thre-

A.B.: FESTA KICKS OUT! FESTA KICKS OUT!

Crowd: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dominga: WHAT?!

Shamoon: HOW?! HOW?!

The crowd erupts.

A.B.: Evans cannot believe it!

Dominga: I can't believe it!

Evans (to Lima): Three! That was three! That was totally three!

Lima: It was two! She beat the count!

Evans: I heard three! You said three!

Lima: My hand didn't hit the ground. Doesn't count!

Evans: Bull****!

A.B.: Evans wasting time arguing with the ref. Festa SOMEHOW starting to stir. SOMEHOW starting to rise.

Dominga: Her eyes are completely glazed over. I don't think she's in control of her own body. 

A.B.: Festa looking like Bloody Mary. Crimson mask and white eyes. It may be time for the ref to just call this one- Evans with another kick- Festa catches it. Heel Hook! Heel Hook to the bad leg! Heel Hook to the bad leg! Festa like a woman possessed, pure instinct, submission applied!

Shamoon: Evans once again with nowhere to go! Festa said she wanted the Bloodbath title. She said she wanted to humble Evans. It seems she really, really wants it!

Dominga: Evans is screaming again! He's gotta tap! HE'S GOTTA TAP!

A.B.: Evans may tap! EVANS MAY TAP RIGHT IN FRONT OF US! EVANS MAY TAP RIGHT HERE IN APIA, SAMOA!

Shamoon: IT'S OVER! IT'S OVER! IT'S-

A.B.: EVANS WITH THE CHAIR AGAIN! He grabbed the chair and flung it at Festa's face. 

Shamoon: I think he hit her in the nose! 

A.B.: Evans once again creating some separation and- Wait, what are you doing?

Dominga: Hey, get your hands off our table, creep!

The 20-year-old, barely able to hold his own weight up, drags himself over the table, grabbing the first thing he can hold, a water bottle. 

Dominga: Hey, that's mine.

He forces himself to stand, hopping on one leg as Festa shakes her head, slowly regaining herself. Evans holds up the bottle, preparing to hit her with it. 

Shamoon: Oh no! Oh no!

He then looks at the bottle in his hand and tosses it.

Dominga: YOU LITERALLY COULD HAVE JUST GIVEN IT BACK, A*****E!

A.B.: Evans once again, abandoning his weapon. This boy confuses me!

As Festa is about to turn again, he grabs her from behind.

A.B.: Evans with a Back Suplex onto our announce table, per l'amor del Cielo!

Evans then falls over from the effort.

Shamoon: Yeah, but it took everything out of him.

Crowd: E MANUIA LENEI! *clap clap clap clap clap* E MANUIA LENEI! *clap clap clap clap clap* E MANUIA LENEI! *clap clap clap clap clap* E MANUIA LENEI! *clap clap clap clap clap*

A.B.: I don't think we need a translation for that. This IS Awesome!

Evans forces himself up; he looks at Festa for a moment. She doesn't move, just breathes while sprawled out on the table. 

He then smirks and raises his hands. 

A.B.: Evans is clapping! He's clapping for Festa!

Dominga: He hasn't beaten her yet. What is he, stupid? Don't answer that.

Shamoon: I think he just respects her. For real.

Evans takes the chair once again and places it down hard on her torso. 

A.B.: You were saying?

Shamoon: Well-Wait, where's he going?

Evans limps to the ring and rolls into it. He then pulls himself back up to a standing position with the ropes and just keeps going.

Dominga: Oh... Oh, Dios mio...

A.B.: Evans is climbing the top turnbuckle!

Shamoon: No. No, don't do this! Don't do it! Roger, don't do it!

Evans, his legs still a little wobbly, stands as straight as he can. For the second time tonight, he sticks out his middle and index fingers, as well as his thumbs on both hands and then crosses his forearms. The crowd cheers.

Shamoon: DOOOOOOOOOOON'T!!!!

Dominga: AAAAAAGHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Crowd: AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

A.B.: FOUR-FIFTYYYYY!!!! FOUR-FIFTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!! A 450 SPLASH THROUGH THE CHAIR! THROUGH THE TABLE! THROUGH THE VERY EARTH ITSELF! EVANS SACRIFICING HIS BODY TO PUT FESTA AWAY! PER L'AMOR DI DIO, STOP THIS DAMN MATCH!!!

Evans lies on top of Festa, only having enough strength left to pull the chair out from between them, allowing him to properly make the cover. Lima gets down.

Lima: 1! 2! 3! RING THE BELL!

Briar Lane: Here is your winner and STILL the Crimson King, ROGER EVANS!

Lima raises Evans' hand and gives him his title while also dragging him off of Festa.

Shamoon: He didn't have to do that. He did NOT have to do that!

A.B.: Roger Evans retains the Bloodbath Championship! At the cost of his own health, he will remain champion... for another week.

Dominga: He's a moron, a freak, but I can respect his toughness. I still want him to lose that belt though.

A.B.: Hopefully, before he kills himself. This type of competition is not sustainable. Festa, dammit, she's not moving.

Lima grabs Festa's hand and squeezes. Festa squeezes back.

A.B.: Amazing!

Dominga: How is she still alive?! Okay, I'm serious, drug test.

Shamoon: I- Honestly, I agree. 

Lima (waving): Get the medics down here, now!

The medics are already rushing out of the tunnel to the ring.

Evans forces himself to sit up, while the ref and doctors check on him and Festa. He stares at her for a moment. Her eyes are open, but it's unclear if she's fully conscious. Either way, he raises his hands to clap for her again, before passing out. The crowd, however, doesn't stop for either of them.