Assets frozen! Monroe AWOL! Chaos in Kingston!

ALBANY, NY – Just Wrestling’s Canadian Dream Tour descended into chaos tonight in Kingston, Ontario as a spate of revelations drew any and all focus away from the wrestling. The show itself was shambolic, most likely a product of the scandal that unfolded over the course of the evening.

Things began when the first fans arrived at the arena from mid-afternoon. The box office was closed without explanation, leaving hundreds out in the cold unable to buy their tickets. Many fans went home fuming. But those who stuck around found themselves at the centre of an unfolding story all too familiar in the post-credit-crunch world. Around 6pm any fans still waiting were ushered inside. Perceiving that they were being let in without paying, fans rushed the doors and soon overcrowded a backstage corridor. Seeking to find space for the fans to wait as the auditorium of the Memorial Centre was prepared, stagehands let people into several rooms being used as offices backstage. Some even spilled into the dressing rooms, to the fury of Sean Edmunds, who made himself unpopular by berating a small boy who asked for his autograph. Others such as Cade Bane were more accommodating, sensing all was not right with the show.

It soon emerged that Jody Monroe, who has been running operations single-handedly since Tim Shipley left the tour and his prior number-two Troy Mason was cut to save costs late last year, had not arrived at the venue. Nor had she paid for venue hire or for the labour involved in putting on the show. As more fans crowded into the small backstage area, Dash Springfield demanded that the auditorium be opened up, and everybody spilt in to see that there was not even a ring in place. Some left to go home, others stuck around sensing imminent excitement. It was clear that there really was nobody in charge. Edmunds threatened to leave, and was stopped only by Springfield, notionally his opponent at the show, who grabbed him by the door. Purely by chance, referee David Myhre broke up the encounter, and as the two wrestlers stood off each other, glaring, a cheer went up from the nearby fans. Myhre nodded enthusiastically and shouted for quiet. “The following contest…” he began, and the rest was drowned out by an eruption of applause.

Springfield and Edmunds brawled backstage, in the main arena and in the parking lot, a hundred loyal fans following them everywhere they went. Knowing by now that this was all the show these fans were going to get, the King of Fashion thrived on the spontaneity of it all, and Fashion Victim’d the champion into the headlight of a car. The sound of sirens greeted the end of Edmunds’ tenure as two-time Champion, this time at least having lasted a day longer than previously. Myhre smacked out the three-count on the car bonnet and awarded Springfield a title belt that wasn’t even there.

Returning to the arena, fans and wrestlers alike were greeted by uniformed police. Using a megaphone, one announced repeatedly that the show was over and that everybody should go home. There was protest from several locals, who had spent the past half-hour finishing the ring setup that had been abandoned hours before by Just’s unpaid workers. The police relented, allowing one match to go ahead in the makeshift ring area before they would break up the party. They were loud cheers when Bane rushed into the ring, testing the ropes. He was followed by Greg Venom. Bane did his best to give the crowd everything they wanted, but up on the turnbuckle after several minutes he felt something give way, almost falling to the floor. Sensing that he was also testing the policemen’s patience, Bane finished proceedings with his stylish Flying Trapese.

Then came the revelations. Representatives from the Memorial Centre had been arguing with the police for some minutes. Fans spilled all around them, delaying their exit for as long as possible, enjoying the chance to rubberneck. Out of the buzz of sound came worrying phrases. Eventually the city’s Police Commissioner arrived and, seeing the chaos around him, invited the fans back into the auditorium. He took to the ring for his announcement, clearly enjoying the irony of delivering a damning verdict on a wrestling promotion from inside the squared circle. Just Wrestling was bankrupt, he said. Ms. Monroe had been covering things up for quite some time. There were payments owed to dozens of local temporary labour companies and ring crews. The bond paid for the Back Alley Brawler’s release was non-refundable and outstanding. All assets were frozen pending the “recovery” of Ms. Monroe, whose whereabouts were unknown. Anything of value would be seized.

Some cottoned on quicker than others. Edmunds protested loudly that the police had better be the ones to refund his travel receipts. A burly grey-haired man announced in his booming voice that now it all made sense as to why Shipley had repossessed the title belt last week. He knew what was going on, and scavenged the only item whose symbolic value exceeded its monetary value. He couldn’t see the Just Wrestling Championship fall into the hands of the repo men.

The rest of the tour has been cancelled, and we regret to say that for obvious reasons no tickets can be refunded – but do hold onto them pending the future restoration of the promotion, at which point outstanding ticket refunds will be a priority. With assets frozen, the company bankrupt, anything of worth being seized, Jody Monroe on the run and Tim Shipley in Australia, the story of Just Wrestling surely cannot become more sordid. But as far as the wrestling goes… it may just end here.