The Pershing Arena on the Truman State University campus was the host for this huge show, and Kirksville turned out in full force! They packed the arena as best they could, and were a loud and boisterous lot at that.
As the show opened up, the metal standards and black cables were already up over the ring, setting an ominous tone for the evening’s main event.
Announced Crowd: 2,453
Match Results:
Ethan Smith def. Catalyst via Phoenix Splash
Rob Powers def. Michael Stevens via submission
Jacob White and Barry Tulowitzki def. Erik Evans and Senshui via Super Destroyer
Papes def. Dusty Griffith….keep reading for this one….
Match Notes:
Ethan Smith continued his march towards a possible title matchup, defeating Catalyst with his Phoenix Splash. The win marked a bit of revenge for Smith, as Catalyst had defeated him during the Midwest Heritage Tournament.
Powers was impressive in his win, never really letting Stevens get any offense rolling. Powers eventually caught Stevens with a juji-gatame arm bar, and picked up a big win, probably garnering himself a title shot in the near future.
White and Witz were equally as impressive, singling Evans out and never letting Senshui into the matchup. They polished Evans off with the combination running high boot and rolling knee strike for another victory.
Now…let’s discuss the Main Event.
Prior to the Powers/Stevens match, the Central States Legacy champion came to the ring and gave a few words:
“Ji-yea, young money heard what bossman had t’ say. It ain’ nuttin’, Ryan Corey be worried ’bout tha legacy of his territory…. worried young hollywood not gon’ play by his rules. Listen up, we both know ju can’t wait t’ get dis title off me.”
“Check it.”
“Dusty ain’t exactly “tick”, and I don’t see his lazy ass bein’ able to hang wit someone like me, who has a serious advantage in the athletic department. Cross-wired? Whateva dogg, best believe i’mma do me, and remind y’all who tha people pay to see. It surely ain’t Dusty Griffith.”
“So it is, what it is. I’ll have Blake Samuels in my corner, but that’s it. Dis time, iz about me, and provin’ that I belong at the top.”
After that match, and before the tag match, Dusty responded:
“June 28th, 2009… The QBK9’s do what they’ve always done best… Gettin’ in my way and pissin’ my off to no end… Well boys, you’ve done another great job in both respects and now… Well, I get to do what I do best by makin’ you all pay for the errors of your very bad choices. See, I am, and always will be the exception to your rule because I ain’t never goin’ to not be here when you boys are up to no good.”
Tensions were already high as the challenger, the face of professional wrestling, Dusty Griffith came out first, cheered uproariously by the Kirksville crowd. Papes came out next, the Central States Legacy title belt worn around his neck, seconded by Blake Samuels as promised. The referee took the belt, handing it to a crew member, who got on a ladder and hung the belt at the wires’ intersection. The crewman cleared the ladder and himself from the ring, and the bell rang.
The match was surprisingly evenly fought, given Griffith’s utter disdain for all things QB:K9. Papes showed that should he choose, he could wage war admirably and athletically, absorbing Dusty’s onslaught of power moves. The champion was not to be out-done, however, as Young Money scaled one of the standards after planting Griffith with a hurricanrana, then swung out onto the cables and dropped a HUGE legdrop onto Griffith, bringing the Kirksville faithful to their feet.
Dusty turned the tide and began to batter the champ, slinging him from pillar to post. Griffith shot Papes into a corner, but Papes leaped up and onto the top rope. Dusty was quicker, however, and before the CSL champion could leap off, ran into him and shoved him headfirst into the steel standard behind the post! Dusty went for another standard, looking to climb up, but Samuels grabbed a leg, distracting Griffith from his goal. Dusty kicked him off, then dropped down to the apron, then the floor, and sent teeth flying with a monster right hand to Samuels’ mush.
This was the opportunity that Papes needed to roll back into the matchup. Papes rolled into the ring, and after watching his teammate get drilled, bounced off the ropes and slid under with a baseball slide, sending Griffith careening into the ringside barrier. Papes shoved Dusty into the ring, and then covered him….to no avail. The referee simply patted him on the shoulder, pointing skyward at the title belt hanging from the wires.
Papes slammed the mat in frustration, then went to the nearest standard and began to climb up. He reached the cables, and began to swing out towards the belt as Dusty began to stir. Papes neared the intersection, and reached out for the belt as Dusty stood. Griffith saw this, and rushed to Papes, grabbing his legs. Papes kept on reaching for the belt, knowing he was in a bad way, but Dusty tugged hard, and powerbombed him to the mat.
Griffith would next take his shot, climbing the standard and, with much effort, began to make his way towards the belt while Samuels began to pick himself up off the arena floor. Griffith slowly inched his way towards the title, but Papes cleared the cobwebs and as Dusty was a foot away from the belt, rushed to the outside of the ring, leaping up and springboarding himself towards Griffith like a human missile, catching him with a spear that wasn’t enough to KO the challenger, but was enough to make him lose his grip on the wire, and both men fell to the mat in a heap!
Both men rolled away from the fleshly train wreck towards opposite corners. The referee started a count, then stopped as Samuels got up on the apron. Meanwhile, both men clambered up to their feet, starting to slowly climb opposite standards. Griffith made it up first, and tentatively reached out for the cable. Papes quickly responded, leaping out from the top turnbuckle, spectacularly catching the cable about a third of the way in, and hung on until his momentum slowed.
Samuels saw his teammate on the cable, and hopped down off the apron. The referee turned….a fatal mistake. Samuels quickly scampered to the barrier, shoving a fan out of her chair and taking it onto the business side of the barrier. He closed it, then hopped onto the apron. The ref’s back still turned, watching Papes’ slide towards the belt, Blake CRACKED the chair over Dusty’s knees, causing him to fall face-first into the center of the ring!
Papes kept moving hand-over-hand to the title belt, reaching the intersection and pulling it down, then fell to the mat in exhaustion. The referee held up his hand, declaring him the winner.
The action, however, was not yet over.
From the back, Ryan Corey came racing to ringside. He stopped behind Samuels as he hopped down off the ring, wrapping him up and PLANTING him with his patented move Nightfall on the wooden arena floor. He then climbed into the ring, asking for a house mic. One was handed to him, and he got directly into Papes’ face.
“I told you that no more of this kind of tomfoolery would be tolerated.”
The fans roared, as they did not care much for Papes, despite the fine show of athleticism he had just displayed. Corey asked for quiet though, and quickly got it.
“But, Papes, you’re still a lucky man, because the ref never saw what your little buddy did to Dusty. That being said, make sure you wake him up before you leave, because I just knocked him into the middle of next week. Because the ref declared you the winner, you’re still the champion….for now.”
“BUT!!!…..you’re going to prove yourself the hard way from now on. Every card, from now until Griffith gets his rematch, you’re going to put this belt on the line against the finest wrestlers I can get into iPRO. First up, Rob Powers. Then Ethan Smith gets a shot. Then BASH Yamada. And if I can get them to agree, I’ll get Adrien Cochrane, Justin Brooks, Brad Jackson…anyone I can find. But you’re going to run my gauntlet, and we’ll see if you really have what it takes to be a true champion.”
“In sixty days, at the end of September, assuming you still survive the champion, you’re going to face Dusty again. One more time. But this time, we’re putting up a cage, and we’re going to enclose it. There’ll be one door, and one door only, and I’m going to be ringside with the only key to the lock. Three men walk in…you, Dusty, and a referee. Only one will walk out as the champion. The next time you face Dusty Griffith, you’re going to win or lose ON YOUR OWN!”
With that, Corey dropped the mic in Papes’ chest and walked away as the show closed.
