BOBBY DEAN vs. DARIN ZION
Vince Howard: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
“Happy Song” by Bring Me The Horizon hits the arena speakers to a chorus of boos, which is a crime because that song absolutely slaps. Seriously, go listen to it right now.
Vince Howard: From Chicago, Illinois and weighing in tonight at two-hundred and twenty-five pounds…
Darin Zion, proud herald of the Love Convoy, steps out onto the stage. The crowd isn’t thrilled, which we now learn has nothing to do with his choice of theme music (which, again, is a banger) but rather the man himself. This makes sense, because when you stan Vickie Hall as hard as ol’ DZ then the contempt comes with the territory.
Vince Howard: DAAAAAAAARIIIIIIIIIN ZIIIIIIIION!!
Zion makes his way to the ring, and despite his attempt to spread the love on his path from the stage the crowd just ain’t having it.
Vince Howard: And his opponent…
“You’re The Best” by Joe Esposito begins to play, and despite his antics the last time he worked in PRIME the crowd seems genuinely happy as the returning Bobby Dean walks out in front of the crowd.
Vince Howard: Hailing from Houston, Texas and weighing in at three hundred and sixty-nine pounds…
Bobby takes his sweet time making his way down the ramp, pausing to grab a fistfull of popcorn from one fan as he makes his journey to the ring.
Vince Howard: BEAUTIFUL BOBBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY DEAN!!!
Zion wastes no time in trying to chop down the bigger man. With chops. Also some punches and at least one kick to the midsection which, let’s face it, isn’t going to do a whole lot against that level of padding. Bobby manages to shove him away, but the smaller and quicker Zion doesn’t give him an inch. He’s right back on the attack, trying to club away at the most beautiful Bandit.
Eventually Zion drives Bobby back towards the ropes, then grabs his arm and tries to send him for an Irish whip. Bobby makes it halfway across the ring before he slows, stops, and puts his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
Nick Stuart: It’s all Darin Zion here in the early going, and I think the ring rust is starting to show.
Richard Parker: Sure, let’s go with that.
After a few seconds, Bobby stands back up and continues running towards the ropes. He hits, rebounds, and then pauses one more time. All the while Zion looks confused. Just as it looks like Bobby is about to start chugging again, Zion bolts across the ring and connects with a running dropkick that sends Dean to the mat.
Tough Love dashes in and tries to knot up Dean’s legs for a submission attempt, but Bobby kicks off with both feet and Zion has to scramble to get back to his feet.
Nick Stuart: Zion keeping the pressure on. He’s building up a head of steam here.
Richard Parker: Don’t say steam too loud, Bobby will think we’re having a clambake.
Nick Stuart: Wh-why?
Zion connects with a running dropkick as Bobby is just finding his footing, and he’s close enough to the ropes that the impact sends the big man through them and out to the arena floor.
Richard Parker: I don’t know, but it sounded good in my head when I said it.
Outside the ring, Bobby lifts the apron and reaches underneath for something.
Nick Stuart: Bobby Dean on the hunt.
Richard Parker: I swear to god if it’s another chicken table…
It is another chicken table. Which is to say, a folding table that someone has adorned with an entire spread from KFC.
Nick Stuart: Snack time at ringside as Bobby Dean gets a treat courtesy of our friends at KFC!
Richard Parker: This talent exchange has gone too far. Way too far.
The beautiful man from Honalee is quite careful to make sure that he doesn’t spill anything while unfolding the legs of the table, which really is an engineering marvel when you think about it. Like that’s a whole-ass table full of food, and not a single bit of it is wasted while both sets of legs are extended. The physics and geometry needed to make that work would surely get math a stern warning in PRIME if it wasn’t already banned for life.
Richard Parker: You ever make a gravy shake, Nick?
The fans at home can’t see it, but right now Nick Stuart is staring at his broadcast partner. He’s not even blinking.
Nick Stuart: What.
Richard Parker: A gravy shake. So the first thing you do is get a container of mashed potatoes, and then a separate container of gravy. You’ll need more than what they normally put on the spuds, otherwise everything gets too thick.
Meanwhile, Bobby is taking the opportunity to recharge his batteries by snacking on a drumstick. Extra crispy, the way the lord intended.
Richard Parker: Then you dump the gravy into the mashed potatoes, and stir the bejesus out of it. Like you’ve really got to get it good and blended.
With that particular piece of chicken done and dusted, Bobby reaches for a biscuit only to have it slapped out of his hand. Enter Darin Zion. If the Colonel’s original recipe has eleven herbs and spices, then the secret ingredient for tonight’s recipe is love. Tough love.
Nick Stuart: And how is this a shake exactly?
Richard Parker: Well then you get a straw, and…
Zion flips the table. Literally. Just flips it right over, sending coleslaw and biscuits across the ringside area.
Nick Stuart: Okay. I think we’re good on the fluid dynamics of mashed potatoes. I’ve heard enough.
Richard Parker: I’m just saying it really hits the spot is all.
It should go without saying that having his snack batted away doesn’t sit well with the Beautiful Man from Honalee. Bobby stares daggers at Zion, who’s too busy berating his opponent to understand the white hot murder only a few feet away. Dean looks down at the scattered remains of his tasty ringside treat, and charges full speed into Zion and sends him reeling into the ring apron. An open handed slap resonates through the arena like a gunshot, and then Bobby rolls Zion into the ring before giving chase.
Nick Stuart: Well, Richard, it looks like you won’t be having one of those “shakes” tonight.
Richard Parker: Okay, real talk? If you thought I was going anywhere near a chicken dinner that a grown man pulled from under the ring then we need to get you therapy. All the therapy.
Nick Stuart: Bobby with a leg drop onto Zion, and now he’s making his way up the buckles.
Richard Parker: Correction, Nick. That’s buckle. Singular. One buckle. Uno buckle-o.
Bobby seems to fall in slow motion, descending ass-first onto the chest of Tough Love with his version of the Banzai Drop. Zion’s eyes go wide as the human hydraulic press crushes him under his massive bulk.
That’s not his trademark taunt, but rather the sound of all the air being driven out of Darin Zion through every hole in his body.
Yes, even that one.
Richard Parker: All of my internal organs are screaming after watching that, Nick. They’re terrified that could be them one day. And I need them all. For drinking gravy shakes.
Bobby doesn’t stand, so the referee slides in for the cover.
Nick Stuart: Darin Zion managed to get his arm over to the ropes. He’s not out of this fight yet!
Richard Parker: It’s damn impressive. After being crushed like that I don’t think I could continue.
Nick Stuart: I don’t know many people who could.
Richard Parker: Ol’ Dee Zee done got squashed like a pancake. A man-sized pancake. A mancake.
Zion rolls out onto the ring apron as Bobby gets to his feet. He reaches over the top rope to pull Zion back in, but Tough Love grabs him by the head and leaps down from the apron, which snaps Beautiful Bobby’s neck down across the top rope.
Nick Stuart: Smart move by Zion. This should buy him a little time to get his bearings and get back into this one.
Richard Parker: He should take a minute and make sure all of his internal organs are intact. That’s where I’d start.
Zion climbs back up onto the ring apron, then ascends the buckles as he waits for Dean to get back to his feet. Zion leaps from the top, and the missile dropkick finds its mark. Bobby hits the mat with a thud, and Zion quickly scurries over to try and make a cover.
Nick Stuart: Darin Zion showing off some high-flying offense. Could this be all?!
Fun fact about Zion: he’s not above cheating a little if the situation calls for it.
Nick Stuart: And Zion has a handful of tights!
Richard Parker: Which is dangerous for all of us. What’s the tensile strength of lycra? I’ll tell you – not tensile enough.
Nick Stuart: Bobby Dean manages to get the shoulder up just in time, and Zion is beside himself.
Richard Parker: Oh god are there two of him now?!
Nick Stuart: What? No. That’s not what that saying means.
Zion begins arguing with referee Ashley Barlow, who is very patient and not at all annoyed that she has to explain how counting works to yet another wrestler. Now back on his feet, Bobby lumbers across the ring.
Nick Stuart: Zion crushed in the corner by a massive body avalanche! He was arguing with the referee, and I don’t think he saw it coming.
Barlow has an expression on her face like she just dodged a bullet.
Richard Parker: Or a train.
Nick Stuart: Zion staggering out of the corner. Bobby with a kick to the midsection…
There’s a twinkle in Bobby’s eye and he grabs Zion and draws him in, taking great care to not expose any of his naughty bits before stuffing the Love Convoy member’s head into…
You know what? Maybe “member” wasn’t the best word to use there, given where Darin Zion’s head is currently positioned in relation to Bobby Dean’s anatomy. Not deleting it, just saying is all.
Richard Parker: I take back every mean thing I said, thoughts and prayers to Darin Zion in this trying time.
Zion flails, because of course he does. Most people would be desperate to escape this situation if they found themselves trapped inside Bobby Dean’s tights.
Nick Stuart: DEANER!
Unfortunately, it doesn’t change much.
Nick Stuart: WIENER!
Beautiful Bobby makes the cover.
DING DING DING
Dean gets to his feet and celebrates his victory.
Nick Stuart: A big win in his first match back in PRIME, and an early birthday present for Bobby Dean tonight!
Richard Parker: You know, someone should maybe check on Zion. That man’s head has been places and seen things. Inhuman things.
Nick Stuart: Fans, don’t go anywhere. We’ll have more action for you coming up after this!
We then cut to commercial.