G.R.R. All-Extreme Ch. 1
G.R.R. All Extreme Chapter 1 By: Silverback Christianpaw Raynge's rules to hardcore wrestling: GRR Hardcore Championship - This championship is an original GRR Championship that has been transferred to the "extreme brand." This championship whenever scheduled to be defended is under hardcore rules. No disqualifications, no count-outs, anything goes, and falls count anywhere. GRR All-Extreme World Championship - This was originally the EAHW World Championship but has been re-named the All-Extreme World Championship since GRR bought the EAHW promotion. This championship is only defended in whatever kind of match is scheduled. Extreme Rules Matches - This match is GRR All-Extreme's specialty. It's a lot like a hardcore match with no disqualifications, weapons are allowed, but with the added stipulation that the pinfall or submission must happen inside the ring. Raynge I'll admit that at first I was very sad when Gold Rush Restling bought out our wrestling organization. I proudly worked for Extreme and Hardcore Wrestling (EAHW) for the last few years it was in business. It was a wrestling organization that was very different from G.R.R. A different atmosphere of wrestling that had no rules. If any two wrestlers wanted to use weapons or go extreme we didn't have to wait for a big boss to announce a "Falls Count Anywhere Match" or a "Hardcore Match" like G.R.R. did. We just went out to the ring and did it, every single week. Some people were turned off by EAHW's violent television shows but a lot of other people loved it! During my high school days I didn't care too much for catch-as-catch-can wrestling and submission-style wrestling. Well, don't get me wrong, as I got more and more into this business I grew to respect it, but hardcore wrestling is where my heart was at. That's why I was sad when I got that phone call saying that my boss, Chris Grunk, had sold the company. I knew that he was having some money troubles but I had no idea how bad they really were. Some wrestlers paychecks were bouncing, some guys weren't even getting paid, and most wrestled for free just out of the goodness of their hearts. It was home for me, to be a wrestler that was into the wrestling I liked to watch. But G.R.R. has really taken care of me and really respects what the other boys and I did in EAHW. On top of their two flagship shows, Warzone and Uncensored, they created a third show that has a lot of our old wrestlers and crew, along with some new up-and-coming guys, and a few guys that are already established in G.R.R. EAHW was turned into GRR All-Extreme. I hear faint coughing as I walk down the hallway to Grunk's office. The GRR Hardcore Championship belt hangs over my shoulder as I politely knock on his office door and made my way in. "Hey Chris, how are you?" I ask. He coughs and wheezes, "Ugh, not so good." "Still got that cold?" "I guess, I still feel like shit." "You need to get some rest . . . which requires you to actually take a day off." "Meh, I'll think about it, but I'm not going to do it tonight, it's too late." As much as I hate to agree with him, this week's All-Extreme taping was going to start in less than an hour, and we need our crazy-brained, grizzly/skunk general manager. "Hehe, well that's the EAHW extremist in you," I chuckle. "Hey now, I'm not that old," he cracks a smile. Suddenly my nose picked up a much different scent, and it wasn't Chris's skunk tail, it was something worse, "Here's your water and Dayquil sir." It's Alex Armahdo, Grunk's Executive Assistant, a black dragon I wouldn't trust with water if my fur was on fire. Grunk sneezes and blows his nose loudly into a napkin before taking the medicine from him, "Ugh, thank you Mr. Armahdo." "Are you sure you're going to be ok?" I ask him. "Yeah, yeah, Raynge don't worry about me. Focus on your title defense tonight." Armahdo interrupts, "Now sir, are you sure we should have another extreme match this week, one of our wrestlers is already on the injured list--" "Yes we are going to have it. The chance of getting injured just comes with the territory." I hold my title close, "Who am I defending against?" "Demetri Wolf," he says. I remember Demetri Wolf from his matches on GRR's Warzone and Uncensored shows. His high-flying, risk-taking style is perfect for All- Extreme. "Hehe pawsome!" My tail starts wagging right away. "Yeah," Grunk says before he starts coughing again, "better start getting ready, your match is going to open tonight's show." Armahdo again tries to interrupt, "But sir--" "I will, thanks," I say. My tail keeps wagging as I leave his office. The thought of wrestling a young and exciting talent like Demetri Wolf, especially under hardcore rules, is very exciting to me. But the thought started to fade as I hear argument erupt from Grunk's office yet again.
Raynge I walk into the backstage area where everything was starting to get underway. Some of the wrestlers were gathering around a big monitor to watch the matches before they go on. Also, tech guys sitting at their desks watching some little monitors and talking to the production people through their headsets. I grab a water bottle off the catering table and take a small sip of it as I prepare mentally for my match. "Hey Raynge!" I hear a voice say. Demetri Wolf walks up to me with a smile on his face. I guess I wasn't the only one excited about this match and I can tell by the excitement in his voice that he was more than ready. "Hey Demetri, are you prepared?" I say with a little grin on my face. "Yep! I'm looking forward to winning the hardcore title tonight. You better not take it easy on me now, because I will not take it easy on you," he says bouncing up and down. "Hehe, same here, but you better be ready for what I'm going to bring because I don't hold back, especially under hardcore rules," I take another small sip of water. "Do you know what Mr. Grunk and Mr. Armahdo are fighting about? They've been fighting a lot lately." "I think it's cause Fischer got injured in his match last week. Armahdo is very hesitant to have any extreme matches for a while, but Grunk says different. And what he says, goes." Demetri scratches his head, "No extreme matches? On All-Extreme? That wouldn't be right. All-Extreme is all about hardcore wrestling, that's why fans watch us." I smile at him, I can tell we were going to be good friends, "See you in the ring," I say before walking up to the curtain. The tech guys keep looking at their monitor before one of them looks at me, "Alright Raynge you're up, are you ready?" he asks me. "Yep!" I say putting my water down. "Alright, cure his music," he says into his headset. Within seconds my generic rock music blasted throughout the arena. I looked down at one of their monitors to see an arena full of fans suddenly come up off their chairs and start screaming and cheering. I hold my hardcore championship close to my shoulder as I open up the curtain. The rush of fresh air hits my fur and the cheering grows even louder. I raise the title high in the air before slinging it back over my shoulder and making my way down the entrance ramp. The ring announcer stands in the middle of the ring, a raccoon with a microphone in paw, "The following contest is for the GRR Hardcore Championship. There are no disqualifications, no count-outs, and falls count anywhere. First, from Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, standing six-foot-three and weighing in at 252 lbs, he is the hardcore champion, Rayne Husky!" Before I get into the ring I lift up the ring apron that's lined all around the ring to find all kinds of weapons for the picking stashed underneath. You never know what kinds of weapons are under a wrestling ring. I quickly pulled out a garbage can and threw it into the ring, followed by a steel chair, and my favorite weapon . . . the Singapore cane. Having a ring filled with weapons makes me really feel at home again. Suddenly some classical/techno music mix comes on as Demetri Wolf walks out from behind the curtain. He's holding a steel chair of his own, ready for this hardcore battle. The ring announcer says into his microphone, "And from Detroit, Michigan, weighing in at 215 lbs, Demetri Wolf!" The fans cheer as he makes his way down the entrance ramp. The fans love both of us so there isn't a whole lot of booing, and for me that makes the match even more enjoyable. He gives me an angry face, full of focus, as he slides into the ring; a very different face compared to the one he gave me before the match. Ding-ding. The bell rings. I look at him with focus and the big stick in my paws and go for the attack. I pounce and swing the cane at him, hoping to take him out early, but being the much quicker canine, ducks it with ease. I turn back to swing again but he beats me to the punch by knocking the cane out of my paw with the chair. "Ah!" I hold my wrist from the stick turning my wrist painfully around before dropping my weapon. He goes to take my head off with the chair but I kick him in the stomach and he drops the chair on the ring canvas. I quickly try to stay on him as I grab the garbage can. I hold it tight and pick it up over my head so I can smash it down into my opponent. I turn around only to find the lightning-fast Demetri already with the Singapore cane in paw and he swings. I get the garbage can up just in time. The cheap can dents instantly just from the first shot. He lifts the stick and swings it down again, trying to knock it out of my paws. He swings down a third time, leaving an even bigger dent in the can. I keep the can up to try and block him from my body until I figure out my new strategy. God this guy is a lot quicker than I thought. "Ohh!" I yelp, dropping the dented can, as he kicks me in the gut. He connects with a forearm to my jaw which knocks me back into the ropes. I hold my stomach in pain but it won't do much good as he hits me in the stomach with the Singapore cane, CRACK! "Ahh!" I fall in between the ropes and flop outside of the ring. I try to quickly get back to my feet. He follows me out and stands poised, winding up the stick like a baseball bat, getting ready to take my head off. He swings, I duck again. We both turn around and I meet him first with a good punch to the face, and then another, and another, and another. More and more shots right to his face. He backs up until he finds the steel steps that are at each corner of the ring but I don't stop. He drops the cane and I keep punching him in the face more and more and more. I finally grab his head and slam it back against the steel steps. BAM! He goes down. "Yeah!!!" I scream at the top of my lungs out to the crowd. The crowd responds with lots of cheers and claps. I stay on the offensive by picking him up by the fur on top of his head, wrapping my arms tight around his waist and suplex him over my head. His body hits hard with a SPLAT! "Ohh!" the crowd yells in unison. He squirms a little bit in pain, but I stay on the offensive as I once again pick him up by his headfur and wrap my arms around his waist. He counters with a forearm to my face, but it doesn't break my grip. Then he gets me with an even harder forearm across my nose. BAM! I yelp as I hold my nose. He growls and jumps high like a wildcat until he sits upon my shoulders and leans his body back. Before I knew it my body gets all turned around with his and the top of my head gets driven into the side of the steel steps. BAM! "Ohh!" the crowd yells again "Ahh!" I growl as I hold my head in pain. My head starts pounding as I struggle to get back up to my feet again. I grab the steps for life and use them to lift myself up. My eyes see the top of the steps and I hold onto them with both paws-- CLANG! Something hits me in the back of the head, making it ricochet off the hard, metal steps and I'm down on my back. I see a steel chair drop next to me; he used it when he saw my head was in his perfect target position, right on top of those steel steps so my head becomes the middle of a steel sandwich. I look up and see him get back into the ring. I remember seeing his matches and know that he is a high-flyer. He knocks his opponents down on the outside and just when they get up dives out of the ring on top of them, well this isn't my first hardcore match. "I'm ready for him," I say to myself as I grab the steel chair he mistakenly left beside me. I push myself up as best I can. The crowd starting to cheer because they know Demetri is going to do something crazy. I stand up with my back to him, hiding the steel chair in front of my belly so he can't see it. I look out of the corner of my eye as he bounces off the ropes on the far side of the ring and runs across the canvas to do his huge move. The moment I turn around and get the chair up he leaps over the ropes, too late to change direction and gets met head and shoulder first with the steel chair. FWAP! "Ohh!" the crowd yells again as his body crash-lands on the floor. Some of the fans clap for me. I look down at my fallen opponent and get on top of him and hook his leg for the cover. The referee quickly hops outside and gets down on his stomach and smacks the ground for the count, "1 . . . 2 . . ." Demetri kicks out. The fans start cheering even more. Damn, this guy is pretty tough, but I've faced tougher, and I will not let him take my hardcore title. I need to think of another move so I look under the ring apron and pull out another garbage can and throw it into the ring. I grab my opponent by his neckfur and slide him back into the ring. I slide in after him, but he just lies on the canvas holding his shoulder in pain. I need to slam him on the garbage can, if I do it right on the shoulder then it will keep him down for the three-count. I grab his arm to pull him back up, but suddenly he grabs the back of my head and turns me over so my shoulders are down on the mat. I try to use my legs to kick out but he's got my leg hooked tight with his leg. I hear the referee get down on all fours and begin to count, "1 . . . 2 . . ." I use all my strength to get my shoulders off the mat for the kick-out, how dare a wolf play opossum. We both quickly get back to our feet. He grabs me by the wrist and gets behind me and wrenches it over my head. I try to wiggle out but his grip is really strong, my arm starting to go num immediately. I try to turn my body enough and wrap my free arm around his waist. I hold it tight and try to execute a hip-toss. He lets go and elbows me in the face, I let go of him. He quickly slips behind and wraps his arms around my waist. I break loose and swing back around and get his waist. Counter after counter after counter we go. I lean back and suplex him over my head. I see his body go over my shoulder as I fall back on the mat. I expect to see his body lay next to mine, but instead I see him still on his feet. He countered my suplex by back-flipping out of it . . . man this guy can wrestle. He stomps my chest. He goes to stomp again but I grab an ankle and start to twist the foot. "Ahh!" he starts to scream. I pounce back up and wrench the ankle-lock good. He goes down as I hold his legs, particularly his ankle up in the air and twist it even more. The referee gets down face to face with Demetri, asking him if he wants to tap out. If he taps out I will retain my title. I wrench the ankle even further-- "Ahhh!" he yells and gets one of his paws in the air, it's only a few inches away from the mat, all he has to do is smack his paw on the mat and all of this pain will stop. I hear the referee ask him again if he wants to give up, "No!" Demetri yells in pain. "Tap!" I shout at him, "Tap!" He growls and tries to push-up out of the hold, but I stay strong and hold on tight. He scampers around to try and get out. In a normal match, if he grabs the rope then by the rules I have to let go of the hold. But in this hardcore environment I can keep this hold on for as long as I want until he taps out for the submission. Suddenly, he flips himself over to his back which sends me flying face-first into one of the corner turnbuckles. BAM! I hit the turnbuckle with my chin. I back up a few steps holding my face in pain when an arm comes up from between my legs and takes my shoulders back down to the mat for Demetri to get the roll-up. The referee gets down on all fours again and counts, "1 . . . 2 . . ." I kick out again. Demetri immediately lets go of me to get away. I use the opportunity to get up off the canvas, but halfway up I feel him kick me in the side which sends me through the ropes and to the outside yet again, only this time landing on my arm . . . on top of a steel chair that was still lying on the ground. CLANK! I groan in pain. I hold my arm and try once again to get to my feet. Fans around me are clapping and shouting happily. They realize they are seeing a classic right in front of their eyes, and it's been a good match so far. I stand still holding my arm and look around for Demetri. But I don't see him . . . then I turn around and see him up on the top turnbuckle. He leaps in the air and hits me with the crossbody, sending me back down to the ground and on top of the steel chair yet again. "Ahh!" I yelp in pain again. He goes for the cover and the referee hops outside and counts, "1 . . . 2 . . ." I kick out. The fans around me start to clap for my efforts to keep the hardcore championship. Again, I try to stand but my arm and back is in extreme pain. I need to end this match quickly because I won't be able to last much longer. He gets up before I can and grabs me by the arm; he grasps me on my already pain-filled back and runs me into the steel steps. BAM! My head gets smashed into the top of the steel and I can't get enough strength to get my head back up. My back is num and my arm is killing me. I turn my head slightly to see my opponent out of the corner of my eye. He backs himself up and launches his entire body in my direction himself but I think fast and get a boot up. It connects into his stomach. "Guh!" he groans in pain. I lash out and throw a punch in his face with my good arm. Then I kick him in the gut again. He goes for a swing himself, I duck under it and grab hold of his neck. All of the fans in the arena stand on their feet as I now have him in the chokeslam position. He is a much smaller wolf so hitting the chokeslam on him was going to be no problem for me. I throw his arm over my shoulder so it doesn't get in the way. I pick him up by the neck high in the air before slamming him down on the dreaded steel steps. SLAM! "Ohhh!" the crowd yells and go back to cheering and clapping. Demetri's body lay lifeless on the metal steps. I reach over his body as the referee slaps his paw on the steps for the count, "1 . . . 2 . . . 3!" He rings the bell and my music starts blasting throughout the arena. All of the fans cheer and clap in excitement as I have successfully retained my hardcore championship. The ring announcer says into his microphone, "Here is your winner, and still GRR Hardcore Champion, Raynge Husky!" I fall on my butt in exhaustion, looking up at the lights with a little smile across my muzzle as the referee lays the championship belt across my chest. I hold it close to my body like a new-born baby. It's my most prized possession. The referee kneels down to help me up but I ignore him and stagger back to my feet. I look at Demetri as he sits on the steps looking down, panting in exhaustion. I pick his head up and give him a smile. "Great match, man!" I say and extend my paw. He gives me a half-smile back and shakes my paw. Granted I don't know if we will become the best of friends, but inside the wrestling locker room there is a mutual respect for the other.
Raynge I sit in my locker-room as I cut the white tape from my wrists. I'm still all hot and sweaty from the match and my head is pounding like. I can't even remember what hit me in the head, or even if anything hit me in the head. I take a few deep breaths and take another deep swig of my water. Knock-knock-knock. I turn around and see a big . . . I mean, huge horse. He's wearing black wrestling tights that have gold sparkles on them and had the initials C.S.D. written on the sides. "May I help you?" I ask. He lets himself in. "Hello Mr. Husky, my name is Clyde S. Dale, All-Extreme's newest trade. He smiles and extends his hand. I stand up and shake it. "Awesome, nice to meet you. Oh yeah, I remember you from the draft a few months ago. Sorry about your boss, Soultiger." "Meh, I'm not. It was bound to happen. I'm just glad I have a new chance to really wrestle and show what I can do on my own. I'm introducing myself to the entire locker-room. I've heard it puts me in the good with the other guys when I join a new roster." "That's smart. I remember seeing a couple of your matches from the GRR Warzone and Uncensored shows, the All-Extreme locker-room is a tough crowd, believe me." "Yeah, that's what I've been seeing. Everybody that I don't already know isn't exactly acting like they are fans of mine. Except for the champion, he is really cool." "Brian Hunter," I say to him. Brian Hunter is our current All-Extreme World Champion. He is an EAHW Original before I even got there. Hunter and Grunk are the best of friends and without a doubt Brian eats, sleeps, and breathes EAHW and now All-Extreme. One of the nicest guys I've ever met. "Yeah him," Clyde says. "Well how are you enjoying the extreme brand so far?" I ask. "So far it seems really cool. I'm just trying to get over how different it is, the guys, the wrestling style, and the management. I'm used to Ms. Draxa running the show. So far all I've seen is fighting between Grunk and Armahdo." "Yeah they're having problems managing the show, but I'm sure they will be worked out soon." I give him a little half-smile, he gives me a little smile back. I look up at him, he's huge. I know I've seen him on TV before but man; the television does not do his size justice. I'm a tall six-foot-three, but standing next to this guy I'm eye level with his chest, and a massive chest at that. Big, strong muscles with nipples the size of silver dollars. I want to just wrap my arms around his waist and rub my face in his chest. I bet it's warm pressing what seems to be my little face against his pecs, just pulsating against my tongue. Keeping my sexuality secret has never been a problem at my work, but in my own mind it's very hard. Many times has a fellow superstar asked me to go drink with him at a local bar and see if we could meet some females. It would normally end with him going to a hotel with someone and I'd go back to my hotel room with nothing but my paw. It didn't bother me too much while I was at EAHW because we would have our shows at the same arena every week. So I managed to have a couple of relationships on the side but none of them worked out. But now it's worse being with a bigger company. Not that I don't like being in G.R.R., but since the company travels all around the world from city to city and arena to arena all throughout the year, I can't even get a relationship to work with. At first it didn't bother me too much, getting paid a lot more money definitely helped, but it's been a year, actually fourteen months, since I've been intimate with another male. It drives me crazy, not that anybody has to know. "I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to see your match," Clyde says, "I probably should be watching as many matches as I can get my hands on so I can learn more about this style of wrestling." "That would be a good idea, but nothing beats training on the job," I smile. "By 'training on the job' you mean getting hit in the face with a chair?" "Exactly!" We both laugh. Suddenly Trisha, a leopard who is on our production staff pushes herself into my room, "Rayne, Gunk is unconscious!" "What?!" I say. "I found Grunk on the floor of his office! I called the EMT's." "Was he attacked?" "I don't know, come on!" she motions me to follow her. We both run quickly down the hallway to his office. A bunch of the superstars and staff were already crowding around his door. I try to look inside his office but I only get a small glimpse of his arm lying on the floor. "Move! Move!" I motion to the superstars as I push myself to the front until I see medical personnel around a lifeless Grunk. "Chris!" I say but Armahdo quickly holds me back. "Relax Raynge, relax." "What happened?" I ask. "I don't know, I was in the production truck. I came back and he was out." I couldn't find any other words to say, because I knew that no matter what I said it was not going to make this situation even better, so I just watched. They wrapped stuff around his head; his forehead was being covered in a towel that was filled with blood. He had a big laceration on his forehead and it was bleeding badly. A few minutes later they load him up on the stretcher. The superstars and crew all spread out around the hallway, talking to each other, online on their phones, updating their statuses of this horrific situation. I stand next to Clyde and Armahdo as Grunk gets stretchered out of his office and is rushed down the hallway to the ambulance waiting outside. "He did say he was sick, and you know he was sick. He should've taken better care of himself," Armahdo says to me. I look at him; now was not the time to mention how somebody takes care of himself. I want to punch him right in the mouth for that but I knew it wasn't worth it. I look up at Clyde again; he looks back down at me with a sad face. "Man, he's not just my boss, he's a good friend," I say to Clyde, my voice cracking a little as I say it. "He'll be just fine," he says. I know he was just saying it to make me feel better. He's a good boy, but I need some alone time. "It was nice meeting you man, but I'll talk to you at the next taping alright?" I say to him. "You got it buddy," he says with sympathy. He extends his hand again and I take it before he goes ahead and leaves. I walk into Grunk's office. There was still one more EMT packing up his supplies. I look around the floor at the red stain on his carpet. I kneel down and examine it. I want to believe that Grunk's cold, or whatever it is, didn't do this to him. It's easy to believe because I knew he wasn't feeling well, I could see it in his face. But to imagine him in his office and falling on the floor because of his "cold" just didn't fit, especially with the gash on his forehead. Oh sure, he could have fallen and hit his head on the desk or a chair or something as he fell, but I don't think so. Something just wasn't adding up here.