Kurt Angel vs. Trey Vincent

Out of Control
Sept. 28, 2003
Writer: Leary

The LoD. The Stump Squad. The Elite Janitor Squad of Destruction and Cleanliness. Those factions have paved the way for the newest overnight comedic *coughcough* sensation.

Team Angel.

A strange group that has formed in short order here in Action. Comprised of its leader Kurt Angel, an angel tossed out of Heaven for substance abuse. Then there is Claire Voyant. The annoying bitch factor that any group needs. Inutu. The disgruntled security officer (Editor’s note: If I said “cop” or “police officer” last week, I was wrong, because I have something else in mind now. Just use WCW-logic people. Last week? What’s that? OK? We all on the same page? Good).

Then there is the half-black, half-white gangsta rapper wannabe Sleazy-C, or if he’s not incredibly stoned, he is known simply as Kordell Cronin. Then there is the antichrist, David Flair. A rogue Commentator. Wilma “The Librarian.” An innocent yet sexy librarian, how can you go wrong there? Then there’s that Kara Yoki chick we don’t know much about yet and Kurt Kobain, Angel’s depressed cousin.

And there you go.

Learn them well.

And it was time for them to get to work.

Heavenly trumpets echoed throughout the arena, and then “Earth Angel” by the Penguins hit the speakers. What? Who says you have to have a current song? Sheesh. Kurt’s a classic. He’s older school than old school. And I really don’t know when he died and neither does anybody else.

WCW-logic, people. Thank you.

Angel stepped out, dressed in a white trenchcoat, white boots, white knee pads and a white singlet. He paused at the entryway and raised his arms up in the air.

BOOM BOOM BOOM PACHEW went the explosions of white, white and white.

The crowd was sort of into this guy. He was a comedy wrestler, so he wasn’t going to get nearly as much respect as anybody else in this federation. But he didn’t care. He was here on a mission that would take him at most a year to complete. He wanted to get back into Heaven, darn it.

Angel walked down the aisle alone at first, then Sleazy-C busted out from the back and hopped and ran down the aisle, slapping hands with the crowd.

“Yo yo yo! U gotta raise the PHUCK UP!” Sleazy yelled into a microphone. “Kurt Angel’s in the house! Sleazy-C is in the house! Get the phuck up!” he shouted at the crowd, as he gestured for them all to get up. A few responded. Some laughed. Some just watched in surprise.

Angel walked up the steps, got inside and went to center ring, and then twirled around in a circle. He took off his trenchcoat and gave it to Sleazy.

“Are You Happy Now?” by Michelle Branch replaced Angel’s odd entrance music choice. The arena was bathed in dark green lighting and spotlights were aimed at the entryway.

Trey Vincent emerged. Tonight, he was wearing his usual wrestling gear and yet another new TV T-shirt. Oh wait. Wait. Wait. That’s a Michelle Branch T-shirt.

…

Right.

OK. The spotlights followed Vincent down the aisle. Angel and Sleazy got out of the ring as Vincent slid under the bottom rope. He kissed two of his fingers, put the lips to Michelle’s face on his shirt, and then took it off.

Sleazy ran in the ring and grabbed the shirt. The two stared at each other as Angel got back in the ring. There was a lot of history between Sleazy-C and Trey Vincent. Vincent hired him back in an old crappy deceased federation. He hung onto him through jOlt, he even showed up in PIW. But they revolutionized parody wrestling in Brawlers On a Budget when Trey and Sleazy became the braintrust of the J.W.A.

Jobbaz Wit’ Attitudez.

They recorded two songs, one of which was “released,” called “Straight Outta Jobton.” But in-fighting and lazy bookers let the group fall apart, as most everything does down there in BOB. But now, they were on opposing sides.

Vincent called for a microphone and got it.

“Listen up, Sleazy. I made you into something a couple of years ago. Here you are, some little 5-5, 150 pound nothing, but I let you ride on Trey Vincent’s team. And this is how you repay me? By joining up with this scrub?” Vincent said.

“TV, u r a BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH!” Nice pop from the crowd. “And u know what else u r? U aint no sportz entertainer, u just a phuckin WRESTLER!”

Trey’s eyes went wide at that remark. That was blasphemy. “Fuck you Sleazy!”

“Phuck u Trey!”

Vincent dropped the mic and choked Sleazy (looking eerily similar to a Homer and Bart Simpson encounter). But Angel grabbed Vincent around the midsection. And the bell sounded as the first move of the match was hit.

A Heaven Suplex. That German suplex took over Vincent, who landed hard on his upper shoulders. He scrambled to his feet as Angel charged in and clotheslined him down. Vincent got to his feet and was taken right back down with another clothesline.

“Whooo!” went the cheer from a happy Angel.

He grabbed Vincent by the hair and began slinging right handed punches into the side of TV’s skull. Vincent was backed up into a corner. So Angel stomped on Vincent — and stomped and stomped. Vincent rolled under the bottom rope, seeking an escape.

But Angel followed Vincent out. He grabbed Vincent by the hair and starting running him toward the steel post. Vincent saw it coming and elbowed Angel in the ribs. Uppercut to the jaw. And then a kick to the gut, followed up with a Shocking Conclusion on the floor.

Vincent sat on the mat, smiling and shaking his head. Angel was no match for a sports entertainer, a Franchise Player. He was some joke. Vincent pushed himself up and picked up Angel by the hair.

Head meet steel post. Angel couldn’t block that one. And he also couldn’t block the follow-up of Vincent picking Angel up and running him crotch first into the steel post.

Vincent spun Angel around and shoved him into the ring and quickly went for a cover.

One.

Two.

Foot on the rope.

Vincent dragged Angel up to his feet and hit a Minneapolis leg sweep. He followed that right up by turning Angel on his back and locking in a Fujiwara armbar, yanking hard back on the arm before Angel could get any separation.

Angel moaned in pain as Vincent shouted “Tap out, bitch,” all the while displaying a cocky smile to the fans. Eventually, Vincent dropped the hold, as he really couldn’t be bothered to wait for Angel to submit. Vincent kept hold of the arm, however, which made Angel get up, even though he really didn’t want to yet. He wanted to give his arm a breather, but Vincent wasn’t having it.

Once Angel was on his feet, Vincent slapped him in the face and prepared to deliver a Cliffhanger. He pushed Angel up in the air, but he reversed the uranage into a DDT, getting a cheer from the crowd.

Sleazy hopped up on the apron, getting the attention of the referee. That’s when a large red bong went flying into the ring. Vincent ducked away out of instinct, but then saw what it was. He raised an eyebrow, but then got kicked right in that eyebrow and went flying.

Angel picked up the bong and held it like he was about to stab somebody with it in the heart.

Once Vincent stood up, Angel did just that — sidearm style.

Vincent looked down at his chest. Then at Angel. Then got down on his knees and hit a brutal low blow uppercut. Sleazy didn’t notice this was going on, which was a shame for Angel, who had dropped the bong.

Trey jumped up and landed a guillotine leg drop on Angel, who was driven face first into the bong, which broke. As Angel grabbed at his face, Vincent kicked the evidence out of the ring and then went over to Sleazy and the ref.

Superkick to Sleazy’s jaw.

He was useless now. Well, not that he ever was useful to Angel.

But, somehow, yet again, as if he were superhuman or something, Angel was back on his feet. He grabbed Vincent.

Heaven Suplex.

He stayed locked in and picked Vincent up.

Heaven Suplex.

Cut paste. Twice more. Vincent took four of the German suplexes Angel refers to as Heaven suplexes. Angel took a few moments to recover before he could crawl and make the cover.

One!

Two!

Thre-Shoulder up by Vincent.

Angel pulled a woozy Vincent up to his feet and whipped him into the ropes. Dropkick did not connect. Vincent landed a quick leg drop to add insult to the miss and then picked Angel up.

Swinging neckbreaker.

Up again.

A second swinging neckbreaker.

Verse.

Chorus.

Verse.

Chorus.

Vincent was going after Angel’s neck, to no doubt start setting up his finisher, Coming Down. Vincent pulled up Angel again, but this time lifted him up as if for a slam. But no. Instead, Angel found himself tied in the tree of woe.

Vincent backed up to the corner opposite from Angel and then charged.

Baseball slide dropkick to the face!

The crowd popped for that, letting out a big “Ohhhh,” at the sound of feet meeting head, and seeing how far Angel’s head snapped. Angel stayed tied in the woe tree, so Vincent grabbed him and pulled him all the way up and then spun him around.

Vincent was going for a big time move.

Vincent stood on the top rope and put Angel’s head between his legs, hooked the left arm, hooked the right arm. The crowd was buzzing as TV took a look at all his little ratings points in the audience. He was going for a top rope Glass Ceiling (pedigree).

The only thing that stopped that from happening was his foot slipping out from under him. Vincent found himself crotched on the top rope to a nice cheer from the crowd, which started a weak “You fucked up” chant.

As Vincent gingerly tried to get his tender nuts off the rope, Angel was on the move. He got on the middle rope behind Vincent and hooked him in!

The crowd all rose up as Angel hit the Heavenly Slam on Vincent from the second rope! Angel crawled on top of Vincent!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NO! Vincent kicked out! Angel put his head in his hands, so sure he had just defeated Vincent as the crowd moaned, excited by the near fall. He looked at the referee in disbelief. But Vincent had kicked out. No doubt about it.

That’s when the straps came down. He grabbed hold of Vincent’s right leg.

ANGEL LOCK.

This move got a nice pop from the crowd, as Vincent now roared in pain at Angel’s hands. Angel smiled like a goof as Vincent told the referee to fuck off with his submission question. Vincent wasn’t submitting to this idiot. He refused to lose to this idiot EVER again. Once was quite enough.

But he needed to find a way out of this. So he crawled and crawled and crawled, eventually getting to the ropes, and then embracing the bottom one with all his might. Angel dropped the hold.

Angel put the straps of his singlet back up, then took them down again, getting a bit of a comedy pop. He waited on Vincent to get up. You could see him mouthing “c’mon, c’mon” over and over.

Second Heavenly Slam!

No.

Vincent landed on his left leg (the good one), ducked a wild swing from Angel and Hot Shotted Angel into one of the top turnbuckles. With Angel dazed, Vincent spun him around and picked him up.

He was ready to hit Coming Down, and there’d be no missing this one.

Except, Sleazy was in the ring. He pulled Angel free of the hold, as Vincent FUMED. He speared the FUCK out of Sleazy and began pummeling his face.

That brought out Inutu. She charged the ring but Vincent saw her and clotheslined her down.

Claire Voyant also was coming in. Vincent superkicked her in the jaw, getting massive heat for kicking a hot chick. Even if she was a mega bitch. Wilma “The Librarian” and Kara Yoki headed into the ring but were also taken care of, with a clothesline apiece.

Vincent then found himself face to face with Kurt Kobain, the mysterious, yet depressed cousin of Kurt Angel. As Kobain wound up for a huge and devastating punch (the type that would result in his hand going straight through the back of Vincent’s head), Vincent kicked him in the gut and hit a Glass Ceiling.

The referee, amazingly, still wasn’t calling for a bell, since, really, they hadn’t touched Vincent.

There was only one man left.

Boos filled the arena as David Flair and his rosy red cheeks charged down the aisle. He had a crowbar with him. No, not Levine. A real crowbar. He swung at Vincent, but Vincent easily evaded the attack. Vincent grabbed the crowbar and bashed him in the ribs.

Trey grabbed Flair and put him on the top rope. The crowd was now CHEERING Vincent, you realize. Because everyone hates David Flair. Just so we’re clear.

Trey then busted out the most disturbing Fisherman suplex brainbuster seen since the RVD/Sabu wars in ECW. It’s a move Vincent usually calls Through The Roof, but this was extra special with a cherry on top. Vincent got probably one of the biggest pops of his life with that move.

Team Angel was decimated one by one by Vincent. Angel was back on his feet.

But there was one last surprise coming down the aisle.

JOHN FUCKING ROCKER? WTFMFMFMFMFMFMF!!!!

Last seen in the fWEo with Adam Nowell, John Rocker was on his way down to the ring. Why? No doubt to do what he does best. But let’s see…

Angel and Vincent both stared at Rocker as he stepped into the ring in his Tampa Bay Devil Rays outfit. The crowd was just in shock at why he would be in Action. Rocker eyed Angel. Then eyed Vincent.

Rocker SHOCKED THE WRESTLING WORLD (/hype) when he kicked Angel in the gut with his cleated shoe! Vincent grabbed Angel and hit COMING DOWN!

The crowd was PISSED! What in the HELL was Vincent doing teaming up with John Rocker?

Vincent got behind Angel’s head as Rocker shoved the Team Angel members to the floor. He wiped his hands repeatedly on his uniform after the job, as if he had picked up germs from the foreigners. Or something.

While that was going on, Vincent did his thing off all four sides of the ring, and then the Big Time Fist Drop~!

Hooked the leg.

One.

Two.

Three.

With the bell and the booing and the garbage being tossed toward the ring, Vincent got himself a microphone.

“Angel. I want you to realize something. Action is not all about doing drugs and being some hero. Especially when you mess with Trey Vincent and Team RATINGS. Now. I’d like to introduce all of you to the man who will help me execute the evil plan. The man who knows all about the dangers of La Familia and is even scarier than David Flair. Ladies and gentlemen, The Clown Prince of Darkness, John Rocker.”

Boos and garbage.

“The right hand of Satan, and the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, is in Action. So you best get used to it, viewers. Since Tampa Bay’s season ended about seven months ago, John’s just been dying to get back into wrestling. But Angel, you’ve made this personal. You know why. And soon, all the fans will know why too. You are just a fallen angel now, Kurt. John…”

Vincent handed Rocker the microphone.

“Don’t get mad at me because you’re all a bunch of stupid foreign immigrants,” Rocker told the crowd. “And how fitting that we’re in the Cox arena tonight, since that’s what all you people are. Cocks!”

Boos. But no more garbage. Fans were running to the stands to buy some expensive food and drinks to toss his way.

“Asshole, asshole!” came the chant from the crowd. And Vincent stood with his arm around Rocker, smiling. Rocker responded by sticking his middle finger up and showing it to every side of the arena. As did Vincent. Many fans responded the same. What a violent reaction.

“Now that the baseball season is over, I don’t have to play by their stupid rules. Kurt,” Rocker continued. “I want to tell you something, you stupid God-boy. You really have done something stupid here. You’ve pissed off Trey Vincent. Just because these foreigners run around like dogs and pee and shit wherever they want doesn’t mean you can too. It’s time to get the pooopeer scooper. Because there’s a new dog catcher in town!”

With that, “Are You Happy Now?” hit, further confusing the pissed off crowd. They left under flying cups and swears. Surrounded by controversy.

What else is new for these two?

Outcome: Vincent via pinfall

NEXT CHAPTER: In The Dark, Act III >>

©2003 John Leary