HOYT WILLIAMS vs. SAGE PONTIFF
The arena lights dim as spotlights focus on the entrance. “Personal Jesus” by Depeche Mode blares at the appropriate volume as the fans levy a shockingly mixed reaction.
Nick Stuart: Well, it’s time for our next match, and Denver is showing some love for Hoyt Williams?
Richard Parker: Part of it is because people don’t appreciate Sage Pontiff, and let me tell you, I have written several letters to Lindsay Troy and Killean Sirrajin and even Devin Shakur in case he still had any pull not to let this match happen…
Nick Stuart: Wait, wait, wait, you have Devin Shakur’s address??!!?
Richard Parker: No comment. ANYWAY, the other reason why people are cheering Hoyt is because our international annual convention of Friends of Hoyt are meeting in Denver this week. We’re out here, Nick.
Nick Stuart: audible sigh
Joe Burro crests the curtain from Argyle as he holds the Imperium Bible high over his head. A small RAAAAAHHHHH rises up from the Friends of Hoyt faithful when Your Personal Jesus steps through the curtain. The single white spotlight catches a few smiles, as his unexpected cheers have broken through his otherwise aloof facade.
Vince Howard: This match is scheduled for one fall. Approaching the ring, from The Right Hand of God by way of Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at 330 pounds and accompanied to the ring by Joe Burro. He is Your Personal Jesus… HOYT… WILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLIAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMSSSS!!!
Burro reaches the apron and with the Imperium Bible tucked under his armpit, he holds the ropes open for the Other Son of God. Hoyt waves to his scattered fans throughout the Ball Center, interspersed with enough numbers that it has taken the majority of Hoyt Haters off-guard.
Nick Stuart: Are you sure you didn’t pay people to cheer Hoyt tonight, Richard?
Richard Parker: Absolutely not! While we do have sizable amounts of petty cash to pay for lesser fortunate members of the club to travel to big events such as this, everyone here on convention business loves Hoyt as much as I do.
Nick Stuart: That is a scary thought.
The arena lights come back up as they start strobing psychedelically. Sage Pontiff enters to an especially vociferous chorus of boos. He stands at the top of the stage, eyes closed, inhaling deeply with his arms outstretched before beginning his walk to the ring.
Vince Howard: And his opponent, from Joshua Tree, California, weighing in at 201 pounds, he is the Bodhisattva of the Transformative Experience…. Sage… POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONTIFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!
The crowd boos at Vince’s intro as Sage hops onto the apron in one leap before tumbling over the top rope into the ring. However, Hoyt does not let him know a moment’s peace and stomps him before he can pop to his feet, causing referee Ashley Barlow to call for the bell immediately.
DING DING
Nick Stuart: Hoyt is wasting NO TIME here.
Richard Parker: Well, I respect Sage Pontiff’s dedication to violence, but Hoyt has a point when he says all dirty hippies need to be punished for their apostate ways.
Nick Stuart: Tell us how you really feel, Richard.
Richard Parker: I believe I just did!
Hoyt brings Sage to his feet and whips him off the ropes. The Other Son of God telegraphs his anticipation, and the Bodhisattva recognizes it and backflips over the bent over Hoyt. As Williams realizes what happens and turns around, Pontiff is ready with a big spinning wheel kick to the butt of Hoyt’s jaw to another audible round of boos.
Richard Parker: You hear that? The Friends of Hoyt are gaining in strength!
Nick Stuart: I just think they’re the only ones with skin in this match, Richard.
As Hoyt staggers back against the ropes, Sage lines up his shot. He drops back, bounces off the ropes, tumbles forward, and fires a huge lariat at Hoyt. Even though the Son of God has 100 pounds on him, the extra momentum is enough to send him over the top. Sage soaks in the surprising volume of boos and gets a devious look washing over his face. He drops back again, gains a head of steam…
Nick Stuart: Looks like Sage’s enlightenment is coming airborne…
…but his aim misses WILDLY as he overshoots Hoyt and lands headfirst into the guard barrier after only grazing the leader of Imperium.
Richard Parker: Well, that could’ve gone better, but as you can hear, the Friends of Hoyt are enjoying this turn of events.
Nick Stuart: I don’t know if I’m fascinated or disgusted by these people.
Richard Parker: These people? C’mon Nick, they’re just normal men.
Nick Stuart: …what do you mean, “normal men?”
Richard Parker: They’re just innocent men!
Nick Stuart’s attempts at muffling his laughter are the soundtrack to Hoyt Williams grabbing Sage Pontiff by his dreads and throwing him into the ring with reckless abandon. He follows as Sage holds his head, slowly rising to his feet. Hoyt awaits him turning around, and then…
Richard Parker: RAPTURE CLAP! Although this is as close as this hippie will get to being welcomed into Hoyt’s Father’s kingdom.
Nick Stuart: Sorry, I still can’t keep it together. “They’re just innocent men?” What the hell, RIch!
The Bodhisattva crumples to the mat as Hoyt lays in enough stomps to put a hole in the earth. After torturing Pontiff sufficiently, he makes the first cover of the match…
ONE!
TWO!
No, the Shaman kicks out. Hoyt drags Sage to his feet and lifts him up over his shoulder.
Nick Stuart: finally stopping laughing Hoyt looking to end this early? Really shows how one mistake can make you pay.
Richard Parker: Get ready for Marshall Applewhite’s Swan Song!
Nick groans at the off-color name for the move as Hoyt plants Sage with the running powerslam. Still not content, he drags the Bodhisattva to his feet and signals the sign of the cross to a clustered mass of his fan club in the front section. He shoves Sage’s head between his legs and points to a particular fan in a “HOYT SAVES” shirt, smiling and nodding.
Richard Parker: That’s our chapter president, Lake Trout! He watches…
Nick Stuart: Wait, his name is LAKE TROUT?
Richard Parker: Nick, he’s a good man, a nor…
Nick Stuart: Not again.
Hoyt lifts Sage up into crucifix bomb position…
Richard Parker: CRUCIFIED AND SAVED!
…except Sage slips off and turns deftly around to greet Hoyt with a spin kick to the back of his head.
Richard Parker: Oof.
Nick Stuart: I guess Sage is a little more resilient than we gave him credit for.
Richard Parker: Yeah, but couldn’t he take a dive just for the Hoyt faithful here tonight?
Nick Stuart: Sage Pontiff is a lot of things, but he’s not sentimental.
Hoyt turns around disoriented, but he’s met with another kick, this time of the thrusting variety to his massive chest.
Richard Parker: sullen and sighing Namaste.
Hoyt bounces off the ropes and stumbles forward, Sage catching him with a DDT. He covers…
ONE!
TWO!
NO! Hoyt kicks out. Sage signals for the end with the throat slashing gesture.
Nick Stuart: A not so peaceful sign that this match is about to be over.
Richard Parker: NO! DISQUALIFY HIM FOR VIOLATING HIS HIPPIE CODE!
The Bodhisattva lifts Hoyt up and then rotates him to the mat with his head violently crashing to the mat.
Nick Stuart: Shamanic Dreamweaver! This one’s academic!
Barlow counts…
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING
Vince Howard: Your winner… Sage… PONTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFFFFFFFFFFF!
Boos rain down on the Bodhisattva as he raises his hands in victory.
Richard Parker: This is the worst annual conference of Friends of Hoyt since 2011, when Dogg Barker stripped naked and streaked under the St. Louis Archway.
Nick Stuart: Dogg Bar… you know what, I’m not even going to ask.