O.C.D vs. Adrian Willard

[Ozzy]

As the Pay-Per-View continues to air following the carnage of the Circus Deathmatch, the atmosphere was electric, Matt Violence’s farewell seemed to have raised the bar of the entire event, even more-so than the cell match which had opened the show. With the ring cleared of debris and mopped of bloodshed to the best efforts, the various tech crew members scurry into the darkness beyond the frame of the camera as things are prepared for the fourth match of the evening.

JP: What a match! Equinox is shaping up to be the event of the year,
Ray: That was one of the most violent things in history, Jimmy. Matt Violence left on a high note, that was incredible.

Lizzie: The following contest is a SINGLES match and is scheduled for ONE fall!!



Bass throbs throughout the arena setting the standard for the night that everything from now was to be electric, the temperature rises, the crowd are at fever pitch and the velvet curtain tears open, highlighting "The Dirtiest Player In The Game" who spins on his heels instantly with his back to the arena, his fists shaking as the intensity of his debut rips through him and O.C.D finally spins around screaming “LET’S GOOO BAYBAYYYYY!!!!” and the crowd thunder down upon him with a “We Hate You!” reception of boos and jeers, despite having no idea about the foreign-to-Eagle Vision talent.

JP: Okayyyy….
Ray: Well, uh… this guy is something different. He seems to have an impression on the crowd already, he’s very… odd looking.

Lizzie: Fighting from Brisbane, Australia; Toronto, Canada and Tokyo, Japan respectively and weighing at two hundred and twenty six pounds, he is The Dirtiest Player In The Game… O.C.D!!

JP: From what I’ve heard, O.C.D is classically trained in technical wrestling and labels himself as a pure wrestler… here-say and actual fact are two different things however…
Ray: Absolutely Ray, you can dress yourself up all you want but you can’t lie in the ring.

Carried by confidence, O.C.D feint-slaps the audience members in the aisle rows as he marches by them, looking incredibly fit to compete in his first of no-doubt many battles for Eagle Vision. Fashioned in his full legged white spandex and wristbands, there is an almost instant peeve about his nature as the obsessive compulsive competitor slides into the ring and pumps his pelvis into the canvas, which is ironically powder-white. Rising to his feet, O.C.D simply snubs off the announcer present in the ring and sits in the corner, poker-faced as he awaits his opponent. The cleansing was about to begin.





TBC: Adrian Willard

[Ozzy]

At the sound of the bell the hungry eyes of OCD level with those of Adrian Willard as both men slowly match one another in a circular fashion, intensity all around them. Knowing full well that this was make (using Willard to get over) or break (possibly snapped in half in the process) several hundred possible strategies mathematically scroll through OCD’s mind as he and his opponent inch closer and closer towards the inevitable confrontation. Clashing into one another in a classic Greco-Roman clinch, the sheer power of “The Prophecy” bulldozes his smaller opponent backwards against the rope, who manages to push free and slap Willard right in the chops! Adrian staggers backwards in surprise, quickly enraged he explodes forwards yet OCD simply sidesteps like a Spanish bullfighter and assists in hurtling Willard into the corner-post behind them with his own momentum, connecting with an enzuiguri and felling his opponent. ‘The Dirtiest Player In The Game’ wastes no time, wrenching Willard’s jaw into his hands for a kneeling chin-lock, but Willard struggles forwards and grabs the ropes tightly, causing OCD to reluctantly release, commending Adrian with a light applause of well done. “The Prophecy” pulls himself upon his feet one rope after the other, shaking off his frustrations and The Clean Machine charges yet Willard clobbers OCD upon his back with an immense lariat, like swatting an annoying insect out of the air. The crowd cannot help but cry out a loud “OHHH!” despite their feelings towards the Chicago technician, who drops upon his knees and plants the cover…

1…2…

Jimmy: Oh so close, oh so early. That vicious clothesline knocked the wind out of the new guy, at least he was smart enough to get a foot on the ropes.
Ray: This OCD guy better learn to duck or something if he wants to go places, otherwise Willard is gonna’ put him away real fast, real quick.

Adrian Willard cannot help but smirk as he pulls his obsessive compulsive foe upon his feet and punishes him with a savage chop, which audibly cracks, causing OCD to hug the ropes and totter towards the corner of the ring. Spinning OCD into an about face, Willard chops OCD’s chest once again, leaving red visible markings where his pectorals should be. With a firm grip of the wrist, Willard hurtles the newcomer across the canvas, so much so OCD deflects from the corner at a hellish pace and crumbles to the mat. Confident in his own abilities, Adrian parades across the squared circle and peels the limp arm of OCD upwards, sarcastically requesting to the crowd whether or not he should lock in the arm-bar. Refusing to allow any such process, OCD grips a fistful of tights and scoops Willard to the mats! Wriggling over him with the rollup, OCD seems to have surprised “The Prophecy” just enough to garner a two count yet fails for the three as Adrian wildly kicks out and shoots upon his feet bewildered. Overcome by auxiliary power, OCD seems to have his second wind striking savagely across the chest with a roundhouse kick! Delivering another and another, O.C.D knocks the wind from his larger opponent before breaking away with a bolt toward the ropes while the goings good, to his credit Adrian fights back with a sluggish swing yet O.C.D retracts his head from the firing line and continues his ‘run-the-rope’ momentum to come back with an ambitious lunge. Unfortunately for O.C.D, his two hundred and twenty-something frame is bench-press breakfast for Adrian Willard who captures him almost effortlessly and propels him into the air at a sharp angle, crushing O.C.D’s neck like an accordion into the canvas with a botched fall-away slam. The neck of the ‘Dirtiest Player In The Game’ compresses upon impact as he crashes awkwardly, yet OCD still finds the energy to unravel like an Indian carpet and crash upon the floor, protecting himself from a potential pinfall.

Jimmy: Jeezez… that fall-away was a hack-job! OCD hit the mat neck first!
Ray: Absolutely Jim, that was a despicable impact but can you really expect anything less from Willard?

Kicking his heels into the protective mats of the ringside, OCD produces a howl of anguish nursing his neck with both hands. Obviously not holding a heavy heart about the damage he’d caused, Adrian Willard casually exits the ring and steadily stalks his supposedly squeaky-clean opponent, reaching down to pull OCD upon his knees and wedge him between his own thighs. The poster-boy of Equinox is a terrifying sight at the best of times, yet he seems to want to destroy his booked foe as he launches OCD into the air and crushes him with a release powerbomb right into the outer face of the ring-post! This leaves Willard some time to create further damage, lifting the apron, which is stylishly designed with his own face all over it. Scanning the area for potential weapons of destruction, The Prophecy seems to have found a steel chair after moments of searching, which the audience sigh with disappointment expecting something uncommon. Demonstrating it’s power, Adrian bangs it against the floor, creating a violent CLANG noise. Adrian Willard raises the chair high, looking to nail the fallen OCD across the abdomen with it; but the clean athlete quickly acts, low blowing Willard with a desperate kick, whose eyes widen. Adrian collapses to his knees, as OCD gets up, thoroughly clean of any previous pain.


Jimmy: As if the powerbomb was not enough, Adrian pulled a freaking chair!
Ray: Willard is just psychotic, nuff’ said. I almost felt for him getting hit right in the nutsack though…



OOC: Sorry...