A wise man once told me “just get back to writing and stop talking shite”
So I did.
Lou King Sharp vs Kid Fite
I’ve seen maybe 10-15 Lou King Sharp matches live, and whilst he’s got some rough edges (cause of course he fuckin does, I’ve got pairs of jeans aulder than him) I’ve always been invested in whatever match he’s involved in. A lot of things in wrestling can be taught, but having an unmistakable charisma that makes people give a fuck about what you do is not one of them. Lou King Sharp was blessed with that, and its been nurtured by the very man he would be facing in this match. Auld villain Fito.
This immediately had 5 star classic written all over it as it started as all great contests do; With one competitor claiming he shagged the other one’s maw. Going on the explain that the maw in question is so rotund, that he burned his arse on the lightbulb (frankly I think thats more of an issue with an inadequate lampshade, but that’s not pertinent to the wrestling) A double leg take-down surprisingly had Fito on his arse early on, before he turned the tide by slapping LKS about and scoop slamming him. Kid Fite continued to dominate, as he circled the ring aiming groggers at anyone who looked like a Yes voter, but he took his eye off the Sharp one, and turned round to meet a big boot to the chops (“big” might be pushing it like, but he kicked him) and the jungle drums started going. The pitter patter of tiny Rhyno feet grew louder as Lou King Sharp pulled all his energy in to one neat package, and brought the GORE! to the fore. A spear from Lou King Sharp that would have knocked any child under the age of 5 the fuck out, but unfortunately for Lou, Kid Fite is a large, angry man. The spear attempt bounced off him like it was made of elastic and Kid Fite responded with a pair of powerbombs. One that sent LKS brain first into the turnbuckle, and the other a sit-out powerbomb for a 2 count. Nothing more lethal than a powerbomb is there? Except two powerbombs.
They leathered each other up the top rope for a bit, with Sharp getting the upper hand by utilising the lower hand, grabbing Fito’s baws and causing him to tumble off the ropes into the perfect position for the 5 STAR TADPOLE SPLASH. Fito rolled out the road, because there’s nae way a swift dunt to the baws is derailing a man who’s had his nuts slung in more faces than KP. Death Valley Driver followed by a swift Brainbuster had the win in the bag for Kid Fite, but this is what I mean about Sharp. This is the beauty of his character. You’re always thinking “that’s him done now” and he never is. Never ever. Even when he is done, he isn’t. Even when his heart beats his final beat, and you’re sitting at his funeral, you can count on him jumping out the coffin and stealing yer Da’s wife, and yer maw’s heart all in the one breath. It was all in vain, as Fito eventually did finish his protege off with that Legsweep/DDT hybrid.
James R.Kennedy then climbed in and chucked some cards on LKS. Dunno if I missed some sophisticated subtext with that, but I didn’t really get it. Are all the cards 5s? Is it a rigged deck? Are we playing pontoon with unconscious people cause The 55 are all about money and most of the time if you gamble whilst unconscious you’re probably not going to be very good at it? Fito was initially reluctant to batter LKS after the match, but seemed hypnotised by the cards and decided it was a good idea after all. Luckily for LKS, there was a hero. A saviour. A tall gentleman by the name of Aaron Echo. I saw his debut match at PBW Academy Attacks 2, and he was the standout debutant that night. A big bit of a boy who can go. James R.Kennedy handed him a card and told him “his card’s marked”. Which provoked a “that’s shite patter” chant. I would have said “pish patter” myself, but I suppose shite does the job. Entertaining wee match that sets up Fito vs Echo at the Maryhill show. Some chance for the big yin. Not many unknown guys get their ICW debut on a main show these days.
Dallas announces Mick Foley
As if this needs reviewed. You all know. I cried real tears later that night because its such an overwhelmingly brilliant thing. My personal hero and one of the most influential men in modern wrestling history will be involved in the biggest ICW show in history. If that doesn’t have you buzzing to the point of extreme perspiration, you’re probably dead inside. I assume Red Lightning being relieved of his duties for the evening means he’ll be on the card for Fear and Loathing as well, which is another thing to be more than a bit buzzin about.
Divers dies
Divers and Davey Boy have the same sort of predicament at the moment. There’s not enough of them. They come out alone, usually up against at least 3 or 4 NAK members, and more often than not, wind up with something sare embedded somewhere in the rectal region of their person. Unless they join forces, or give the A.P.A a phone, they will always wind up on the sharp end of a kicking in these situations. Divers came out, and spoke of his recent success over Renfrew, just enough patter to see the emergence of Renfrew from the shadows. As he went to one side of the ring, Stevie Boy appeared at the other, but Divers was wise to it, and for about 5 seconds it looked like he might emerge from the latest rammy with the upper hand. Not to be. A Canadian Destoryer from Stevie knocked Divers out the game, as Renfrew announced that they would do battle again at Shugs House Party 2. Ladder match. Briefcase on the line. Then Wolfgang hit him with a piledriver off the apron through a table and now Diver’s doesn’t have an upper body anymore. Wolfie put the whole top half of Dickie Divers to sleep. He’s just a kicking pair of legs now. Piledrivers are banned in WWE. Fully banned. Ye widnae even be allowed to do one intae a swimming pool filled wae candy floss. Divers took one off the fuckin apron through a table. That takes a set of baws, and a love for this wrestling thing that most people wouldn’t be able to fathom. R.I.P Dickie Divers.
Mark Coffey vs Trent Seven
Forearms. All the forearms. The best forearms in the history of wrestling. Rendering everything else that has ever happened in a wrestling ring since the first one was built irrelevant. Make no mistake about it, this was the single greatest achievement in the history of humankind. For men to strike each other with such ferocity and for neither to stop halfway through n go “naw mate, this is too sare” is a feat that will never be matched. 😉 Seriously though, this was a stunning match. A return to the very best of Mark Coffey after a wee spell where injuries were stopping him hitting folk as hard as he might want. Trent Seven is also very good at wrestling, and you shouldn’t let his stupidly handsome coupon distract you from that at all. Even if he does look like he just finished shooting a sexy Jacamo advert. They started with forearms, they continued with forearms. Hunners of fuckin forearms.
A shoulderblock standoff followed by a big dropkick by Coffey got us really going. Now we’ve started. The wrestling is happening. A couple of big stoatin lariats in the corner scrambled Trent’s brains, but he ducked the third one and went on a chopping trip. Delivering no less than 1,000 chops to Mark Coffey in the corner. Then he rubbed his baws and done a big running chop. Apparently this is a cricket reference, but I’m Scottish, so cricket does not exist to me and never has. Any game where you can play for 5 days and still end up drawing isn’t a game ye need to bother with. He tried another baw rub chop but Coffey blocked it and went up to the middle rope, only for Trent to pull him off by the leg straight into a stoater of a lariat. Beautiful stuff. Trent signalled for the suplex out on to the ramp after that, but instead he got Owens’ed. Coffey blocked it, and caught Trent flying off the apron to throw his spinal integrity into question with a beauty of a popup powerbomb. My favourite finisher at the moment done by the best forearm deliverer in the world. Could life get any sweeter?
A suplex on the apron from Mark took Trent back into the ring, before the real action started. The forearms. We had a wee taste of it at the beginning of the match boys n girls, but nothing compared to this. A beautiful forearm exchange, with a few chops mixed in ended up with both of them sinking to their knees and encouraging the other one to hit them with their best shot (ha! knees! fellatio n that!) Marks best shot is a right good forearm to the jaw. Trents is a nipple chop. They scudded each other daft, and Mark even chucked a few slaps to the coupon in for good measure, before the sequence ended with a headbutt Danny Dyer would have been proud of, followed by a devastating lariat to surely knock Trent out. But nah. Trent’s immune to two things. Sare forearms to the jaw, and ugliness. What I’m trying to say is, Trent kicked out a one and he has a magnificent face. I mean eh…..Trent Seven is good at wrestling. Mark continued to punch him in the side of heid, because apparently the only way this was ending was when Mark literally caves his skull in to the point that it switches his brain off.
Getting battered senseless seemed to motivate Trent, as he somehow came back swinging. A full nelson suplex followed by a peach of a piledriver for a two count. Coffey hit back with the Deathwish Foearm followed by a brainbuster for a two count. You will literally have to kill this cunt. Nae kayfabe. Nae folk hovering about the entrance pretending they’re phoning an ambulance. Trent Seven is either leaving the ring victorious or deid. Another Forearm finally put the match to bed, and ended the life of Trent Seven.
Now the name makes sense. He must be part cat or suhin. The first 6 Trents died doing what they loved. Taking forearms to the face. And now it was time for us to say goodbye to Trent Seven. Stay tuned to future ICW shows for the debut of Trent Eight. One of the best matches of the year so far. Properly engaging. More Trent Seven would be most good. Most good indeed.
Viper vs Sammi Jayne
Decent weekend for Viper. Took the Fierce Females belt on Friday, got herself engaged to an International Sex Hero on Saturday, and had a right goodmatch with Sammi Jayne on Sunday. Viper started the stronger, as she completely no sold an early flurry for Sammi. Putting her on her arse and hitting her with that low crossbody number she pulls out every now and then. Sammi hit back with a silky dropkick in the corner, but she was caught going up top and sent flying, before being hit with a beauty of senton. This match happened in Edinburgh earlier in the year and it was nowhere near as good as it could and should have been. This one was the exact opposite. This still managed to make an impression on a belter of a show. A swinging neckbreaker from Sammi gave her the upper hand, and she reversed Viper’s attempt at the Electric Chair Drop to send her outside to catch a suicide dive. Sammi actually skidded off Viper’s heid and landed teeth first on the ramp, but she seemed to emerge with her gnashers unscathed, much to the relief of tooth enthusiasts across the globe. And probably Sammi’s family. Naebdy wants a gumsy relative, thats why we put our old people in homes, so we don’t need to deal with any of that shite.
Sammi went for the slingshot neckbreaker for the win, but Viper blocked it and turned it into the Viper Driver. That didn’t quite get the job done, and a series of reversals led to a beauty of a release German Suplex from Sammi. Absolutely poetry in wrasslin motion. It’s a shame she was chewing on the Electric Chair Drop less than a minute later and Viper had the win in the bag, because that German was majestic. Some weekend for Viper but.
BT Gunn vs Mikey Whiplash (Falls Count Anywhere/Last Man Breathing Match)
Occasionally a wrestling match dances along the thin line between uncomfortable viewing and pure and utter genius. This was one of those matches. The match had a few moments that made your baws jump back into your body and hide behind your small intestine, but when you have two of the best wrestlers in Europe orchestrating the chaos, all of it makes sense. Every death-defying spot fits the story they’re trying to tell. When BT Gunn was revealed as Mikey Whiplash’s tormentor, it shocked pretty much everyone, but it also signalled the start of what could potentially be one of the best feuds in ICW history. Two of the very best wrestlers, who both enjoy dalliances with death, knocking the life out each other. Falls count anywhere is one thing, but for any fall to happen here it might involve one of the people involved having to pin a dead body. Which might be a bit of a stretch morally, even for these two mad cunts.
It started with Whiplash meeting BT Gunn in the entrance way, and they smashed each other off various hard surfaces round the side of the ring, with BT catching Whiplash and slingshotting him against something hard and sare. They continued to fight in amongst the booths at the side, BT Gunn doing his best Rob Van Dam impression by getting a fucktonne of air on a jump that seemingly came from nowhere. Even something as simple as these two smashing each other off tables and walls looked sare as fuck, and we were only getting started. Sometimes its easy to lose interest when the match goes into the crowd and that, purely because a lot of it is just walking, but these two never stopped hitting each other. BT shoved Whiplash into the lassies toilets for a quick shite, before finally dragging the match into the ring. Admittedly the ring is more of a prop in a falls count anywhere match than anything else, but its a useful prop for doing wrestling moves n that. As soon as Whiplash hit the ring, he kicked it up a few gears. Immediately jumping back out with a suicide dive, only for BT to block his attempt at a second one. Then a “fan” who already had a member of security by his side, chucked a drink in BT Gunns face and got leathered for it. I’m not saying its suspicious, but the fact that a camera zoomed right in on the guy before he did it might arouse suspicion that he could be a “plant”. Another thing that made me a bit suspicious was someone coming up and telling me “I know that guy, he’s a plant” So aye. I suspect he was probably a plant. The distraction gave Whiplash enough time to climb up top and hit an absolute beauty of a crossbody on various security guards and 5 or 6 fans, but the one guy he missed was BT Gunn.
Spinning powerbomb from Whiplash garnered a 2 count and signalled the start of the “pure good wrestling” portion of the match. Jabs to the face followed by yet another forearm war. Bloody Spacebaws? More like SpaceForearms! amiright? They were battering each other senseless up until Whiplash decided to catapult himself into the ring and wound up being caught with a cutter from BT that he calls The Gunnshot. BT used that opening as an opportunity to chuck chairs of various colours into the ring. Setting the blue and green one up, and sending Whiplash towards them with a backdrop. I’m nae physicist, so fuck knows if the chairs not giving way made that move more or less painful than if they did give way, but there’s nae denying it looked fuckin sare regardless. Whiplash responded by hanging BT upside down in the corner and piling a bunch of chairs in front of BTs face, and dropkicking them through his skull. Whiplash went walkies after that, and found himself a barrier. Because he always finds one of the fucking things in some way, shape or form. Something a lot more menacing about a barrier in the ring than a barrier outside it, because when BT was hoisted up in the air and landed heid first on the barrier, an ear-piercing scream erupted from somewhere in the audience, causing partial deafness to anyone within 100 miles of it. Whiplash was then dropped baws first on the very same barrier before BT dropkicked him out the ring and calmly disposed of the barrier by chucking it tae fuck. Relief to see it no longer being a factor. One of those barriers is going to kill someone one day, I just hope that when that day comes, the person in question is Katie Hopkins. Somehow.
A big punt to the chest off the apron took Whiplash down for another two count. Then the only hard thing in the building yet to be launched at someone face finally came into play. Big set of steps to the coupon of Whiplash, before BT chucked them in the ring and got to work. Setting Whiplsh up for a powerbomb on to the steps, only for Whiplash to reverse it into a backdrop. Deid. Spinal death in one motion. Gory, horrendous death. Renfrew took a back drop on a pavement in Edinburgh once and this looked sarer to me. Thats how brutal the landing looked. Anguish written all over BTs coupon. It was time for a new deathtrap to be introduced into proceedings at that point, as Whiplash dumped about a hunner thumbtacks into the middle of the ring. Much like bringing the stairs in to play ended up backfiring on BT, the thumbtacks wound up coming back to bite Whiplash, as BT reversed a suplex attempt into a front suplex (also known as “a suplex the other way roon”) right on top of the tacks. Sometimes there’s a bit of ambiguity as to how a particular move affects the person who takes it, but when it comes to getting chucked on to some tacks, the consequences are pretty cut and dried. Yer gonnae wind up with thumbtacks embedded…..everywhere.
See as sore as that looked, BT hit him with a superkick right after and Whiplash fell back on to the tacks…..fuckin HARD. That was arguably the sorest looking thing to happen in this match. To this point anyway. There was more to come. There’s always more to come. It felt like momentum was building up just nicely for one of these two to breathe their last breath. BT twisted Whiplash into a modified Texas Cloverleaf and you could see every last thumbtack. Covered in the fuckin things. If Mikey Whiplash was a poster, you’d say “here mate….ye dont need so many tacks on that poster….4 would dae it….one in each corner and yer sorted” but he’s not a poster, he’s a human being, and tacks hurt. Whiplash made it to the bottom rope, and abolished any confusion as to whether that breaks the hold in a Falls Count Anywhere match by climbing out the ring. A ladder was brought into play and that was when you knew. This is how it ends.
BT trapped Whiplash under the steel steps, as he climbed up the rung-less side of the ladder. Probably with designs on jumping from a great height and killing Mikey Whiplash tae death. He did not kill him to death though, instead Whiplash chucked the stairs off himself, jumped up the ladder and hit a DEATH VALLEY DRIVER OFF THE LADDER. There was a show a long time ago (before ye could check things on ICW ON Demand n that) where I called a top rope rolling senton from Whiplash a death valley driver. On that occasion I fucked up. Mah bad m8. This time it was definitely a Death Valley Driver, and BT Gunn is definitely dead. Or at least he was for 3 seconds, as the falls count anywhere war ended in the middle of the ring. Surrounded by thumbtacks, blood, sweat, teeth, bits of steel, a few rusty nails, a toaster and an electric eel, Mikey Whiplash won this battle, but you’d assume that if the two of them still have the majority of their faculties after this, that the war still rages on.
Both of them put absolutely everything on the line to give us that match. A bawhair off half an hour of pure homicidal carnage.
Good show. As was the first half of it, which I will review whenever it goes up On Demand if anyone gives a fuck. Stevie Boys promo was pure gold. As was him vs Kenny. If you leave this review with anything, leave it with this. Forearms matter. Chairs matter. Suplexes matter. Thumbtacks matter. YOU matter. It all matters. God bless. Wrestling.
Joe Coffey is also not a bad commentator.
Ok…NOW we’re done.
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