Shianne Lovelace

Well as long as I'm living up to expectations I guess I'm happy!

The lesson that I have learned here today is that we're all always wrong and everyone here is a fun brick wall of opinions and it all plays into why I love being a part of OCW. :o

I don't have a comprehensive review to write but I loved the entirety of the twitch show. A great night. Favorite bit was definitely the Family Feud game and match of the night for me was Harri vs. Furiosa. Will have to read the WERDS later.

I agree with EMP. Get a room already!

A camera walks through the halls of an ER, amid the commotion of the regular day-to-day of the place. It shakily enters a room, where an exhausted Chris Greene is sitting alone with a newly-placed cast on his arm. Doctor: "I'm sure you don't need me to tell you officially, but your arm is broken, Mr. Alleyne." Chris: "Yeah, that bastard. 'El Primero,'" He trails off. "Knock me down but I'll come back stronger, some day his ego and dirty moves will bite him in the ass. May not have been tonight, but it'll happen soon enough. Whether by my hand or someone else's, it won't be long." The Doctor leaves momentarily, as the camera focuses on Chris Greene. A man with a microphone approaches Greene, holding the mic out for Chris. Interviewer: "Chris - how long do you feel it'll be before you're able to compete again?" Chris: "Month and a half, maybe two? Thankfully it wasn't a terribly damaging break, as stupid as that may sound." Interviewer: "How badly do you think this turn of events will effect your run, what are your plans moving forward?" Chris smirks a little, perking up. He's still sweaty and groggy from the grueling bout he put himself through to take the fight to El Parca. Chris: "I don't foresee this negatively impacting my run in any major way. It's some time out of the fray, sure, but you bet that when I come back I'll come back stronger than I was before. You can't put down the heart and soul of Ambition, after all. Knock me down, I'll get back up. That's what I'm all about." Interviewer: "Thank you, Chris. We'll leave you be for now." Chris raises a hand to stop the interviewer as he begins to make his exit. Chris: "One last thing: Primero. I didn't get it this time, but next time that mask will be mine." The interviewer and the camera man exit the room as Chris begins to rest, perhaps now more motivated than he was before.

A heavy, distant noise can be heard. To the rather unimaginative, it might be shrugged off. However, to those in OCW, to those who’ve done it themselves and to those who have heard it before - it was the all too recognizable sound of someone's fist striking a metal locker. That fist? It belonged to John Carter. John: “What the hell just happened out there?!” John yells angrily, behind him Chris Greene sat down on a bench, a towel-wrapped ice-pack draped on his neck and shoulder. Dylan Kinder leaned against the far left-side of the wall. The other two men stayed silent as John continued on, furiously striking the locker in front of him, as if it were a punching bag and his knuckles weren’t almost bloody. John: “We were doing so good!” He shouts, striking the locker in between breaths and yells. “We looked better than we have in a while!” Chris stands up - though one would hardly notice given how much smaller he is than the other two. He approaches John and puts a hand on his shoulder. Chris: “That’s all that matters. We looked good out there. Those guys are some of the top athletes this company has to offer - and we went out there and gave them a show. We went out there and had them wailing on us for almost twenty minutes.” Dylan smirks, and takes a step forward from his spot on the wall, looking at Chris, irritated. Dylan: “Yeah, and you’re the one who cost us the match, Chris. Ate the pin for H-2-Whatever his name is.” Chris: “You speak? Honestly, I didn’t think you had a voice, big man.” Chris chuckles, turning to Dylan, a light-hearted grin on his face killing whatever animosity Dylan had been festering. Dylan sighs and returns to leaning against the wall. John, however, kept wailing on the locker. Even more pissed off than he was before, he just started hammering away on the locker - putting dents in the poor metal until his knuckles were covered in blood. Chris put himself between John and the locker and shoved him back. Chris: “John! John!” He shouts, trying to cool the guy down. “Chill the fuck out, dude! Look, I know you’re pissed because I took another pinfall but think about it this way: Those guys are so much higher on the card. We looked good out there going with them for round-about twenty minutes.” John just blankly stares at Chris, before sighing and backing up. He shakes his head, as if he’s disappointed by Chris’ words. John: “It’s not because you ate the pinfall.” He sighs. Truthfully it bothered him that Chris was so light-hearted about eating pins and did it so frequently for the group - it was almost as if Chris was protecting the other two from looking bad. “It’s because we came so close. A few more minutes, a few more minutes and I swear I would’ve had it. Aisu? We should’ve kept him in the ring. He was the one we needed to get a win.” Dylan sighs, shaking his head. Dylan: “Yeah. That, and I shouldn’t have tagged Chris in at the end. Didn’t know what to expect until he ate that superkick. That prick just had to toy with him too before the end.” Chris: “It’s not a big deal, guys. Nothin’ new for me anyways. The important thing is we gotta stay strong. We can’t let anyone else see us like this, they’ll think we’re weak-” John: “They already think we’re weak!” John steps forward and strikes the locker once more, the sound reverberating throughout the locker room. Chris: “You’re like an angry teen, sometimes, John. Nobody thinks we’re properly weak, and we gotta keep it that way. Now - let’s get out of here and all get home. I can’t wait to lay down and rest. H-2-O really hit me good with that kick,” Chris pauses, feeling his jaw. “Maybe he wanted to lay me out for good. Either way, I’m out. Y’all comin’ with?” Dylan shrugs and follows Chris out of the locker room. John, stays seated for a few more moments. John: “Yeah, yeah.” He mutters, looking at the locker that definitely had won the fist fight he had with it - at least, judging by the shape of John’s knuckles. “If only we could all be as calm as Chris. I don’t know how he does it,” John then chuckles weakly to himself, realizing he was talking to himself. “Alright, alright.. Time to go home and calm down.” John gets up and exits the locker room - though he had to run in order to catch up to Dylan and Chris. ^- Reposted here because Johnathan Carter did not submit the entire document for the show. -^

Chris is standing in front of John Carter, who is sitting down on a chair in front of him, white as a ghost. Chris, for the first time, looks crazily pissed off. Chris turns and points at a monitor, which is paused at the part of the Riot taping where John gets thrown off a semi-truck trailer. Chris: Would you mind explaining that to me? At all? John: Well uh… y’see… Chris punches John in the shoulder as hard as he could. John winces a little. Chris: It doesn’t matter what your explanation is! Why the hell did I see you falling twenty feet last night?! And not only that, but you didn’t SELL it either! What is wrong with you! All this ‘We’re wrestlers’ crap and you can’t even do it yourself?! Chris steps back and covers his face with one hand, the other on his hip as he thinks. Surely there’d be no recovering from this. John may as well have taken their entire gimmick and credibility and tossed it out the goddamn window. So now he has to deal with this shitshow John created, and Tyler Walker coming after him next week. John: Chris, I- Chris: Shut up! John sits in the corner, in his chair, looking down at the floor like a little kid being scolded for touching the stove again. John: I… I really didn’t think he was going to follow me all the way up there… I told him not to… Chris: Can it, Carter! I’m thinking… there’s got to be a way.. A way to salvage this. I simply can’t believe you, after all we’ve done in our careers and all we’re going to do? It was a backstage brawl, and you managed to throw yourself off of something really high. HOW?! HOW does that HAPPEN?! Chris furiously paces back and forth trying to come up with a new take, a new angle… anything to salvage this mess. After about five minutes, he sighs, defeated. Chris: Whatever. You’re buying me groceries for the next month, and you’re going to help me install a new lock on my apartment door so you can’t barge in like you did last week. I’ll figure something out… or you will, but we better make something out of this and spin it in a way to work for us… otherwise you may have killed us with that shit. You’re like a toddler, I can’t leave you alone for one week. I do that and you do something incredibly stupid! Now let’s get out of here, you disappointing bastard, before I keep thinking about it and punch you in the mouth. They walk away. Chris ponders over what to do next, especially about Tyler. Whatever he was going to do, he had to use it to make a statement.. Or something like that. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that John did any of that, especially since he’s the main face of Wrestling Club. Now Tyler and Derek are calling them Trash Club, too, and that didn’t jive well with Chris. Something had to be done.

Chris Greene sat alone in his apartment, sipping from his coffee... his phone ringing but he didn't feel compelled to look or answer. The apartment was a pretty dull, one-bedroom place but it was enough for him. He didn't need fancy possessions, that fire... no, desire in him burned out a long time ago. All he needed was something livable. What he has now is the definition of that. A small sofa, a coffee table, a small kitchen, a 19-inch TV, DVD player, bathroom and a bed in the small bedroom. All he needed, he was content with his lifestyle. Even though he was home, though, there was a constant thump, thump, thumping - his leg, bouncing from stress and anxiety. It'd been a while since it was this bad. Not since... 2012? Somewhere around there. He kept thinking about how he was just another guy.. just another wrestler. Again, something that never really bothered him before - That's just what he is. Another wrestler. Perhaps the anxiety about it began to creep up on him due to the bigger stage he's been put on. He still has to get used to the OCW... everything, really. He set the coffee cup down and thought over the match with Power & Glory from the other night. Since the Hattons match, they hadn't been steamrolled quite like that.. so much for capitalizing on the Rookie Rush. Chris sighed, getting up and heading to the kitchen. He started making himself dinner, getting out everything needed for Chicken Alfredo.. his favorite meal. Cooking calmed him down. He thought about things. How long could he keep this up, though? He looked up to John, literally and figuratively, for being a much braver and determined man than Chris had ever been... and yet he always came to Chris for help. It was an odd dynamic, one balanced by age and experience while also being imbalanced by talent and charisma. Lost in his train of thought, Chris cut his finger whilst slicing up some chicken. At the same moment, John Carter bursts through his apartment door, damn near ripping the thing off the hinges. Chris: "Fuck!.... Gah, Dammit!" John: "CHRISTOPHER! YOU WON'T BELIEVE IT! WE GOT'IM!" Chris: "Why the fuck didn't you call me? I'm making dinner here. I cut my damn finger 'cause of you!" Chris is wrapping his finger up with some tape as that's all he has on hand at the moment. John: "I tried calling, but you wouldn't answer. So, I came here to clue you in and make sure you didn't die of starvation or something." Chris: "Fucking hell... Ugh, alright." John: "But we got 'im!" Chris: "Who? Roven?" John: "No, the guy I told you about!" Chris: "Oh, right. The old tag partner guy. Cool. Sit down, I'm almost done cooking here, so I might as well serve you since you came rushing in here like an idiot." John: "You love me for it, you know that," Chris: "Yeah, as my friend. I'd rather have Cynthia barging through that door right now, if I'm being honest." John: "Firstly, ouch. Secondly, we really gotta talk about Derek and Tyler anyways, so this whole scenario worked out fine." Chris pushed everything down, his anxieties, fears and mental loopholes and focused on finishing up his meal, and listening to John's grandiose plan for Derek and Tyler. He could worry about these things later, for now it's time to focus on eating pasta like a madman, and the future of Wrestling Club.

I'm just going to comment on what I participated in, as I haven't watched the full show yet and missed the viewing party on Discord. The Battle Royal was awesome, and watching it again with commentary made it even better. I was a little bummed that I was the first elimination (by a finisher, no less) but allowing John to have the 'ultimate survivor' run towards the end made it worthwhile. In spite of that, I think I had a good run, taking it to Wesley especially felt nice, and on the flip side John and I kept swapping who we were going after to keep each other at a distance. Not eliminating Wesley when I could've was my biggest mistake, as I likely could've gotten him out a lot sooner but I misinterpreted the rules a bit, and I was dead-set on trying to eliminate someone through the button mashing mini-game. So, I was tossed out by Tayy Breizee, and although it was a bummer (and left my back feeling like shit, thanks for doing that), I loved being able to watch the rest of the match in real time without having to worry about being eliminated anymore. Tayy getting what he deserved moments later by Tyler Walker was great, and Colin's elimination was fun too - as he got to orange mere moments before, and spent the entirety of the match being cautious and off to the side. The Final Three was a roller coaster, John outlasting against all odds was something I think nobody expected (me included especially since I was tossed out first), and it was a good showing from us and everyone else. A very fun match, and it makes me look at the future's of myself and everyone involved with a new perspective. Before we can get too far off in the future, though, we've got to focus on the present... and right now, our focus is on Derek Smith and Tyler Walker, as I had to remind Colin and John of that later on in the show. Seriously, my back was in pain and those two decided to bicker? Unbelievable. Somebody has to maintain a level-head during all this nonsense. Loved writing with Colin, and although I think we are alike in writing style, he certainly trumps me in the descriptions department. It seems like he can turn the most mundane thing into a paragraph read and that is absolutely stunning & amazing to work with. Hope we get plenty more opportunities to write with him in the future. Oh, that reminds me.. he missed his three o' clock training on Tuesday, so I have to track him down about that.. later!

Chris Greene is seen sitting alone on a couch in a relatively small, one-bedroom apartment. In front of him is a TV with a DVD player. On the screen, one of Chris' matches from years ago is playing. On the screen, Chris walks straight into a devastating rolling elbow. Chris had already been cut open from a botched table spot earlier in the bout, but the elbow hit him hard and made the wound even worse. Unknown Voice #1: "Mah gawd! Chris Greene laid out in a pool of his own blood after that rolling elbow from Roddy Benson!" Unknown Voice #2: "They don't call him the 'Head-Splitter' for nothing, Johnny!" Johnny: "Certainly, Brian - but I guess Chris Greene won't be talking so big from now on, will he? Not after such a dreadful encounter with the 'Head-Splitter' Roddy Benson!" Brian: "I dunno, I mean - it's Chris Greene after all, he's well known for his mouth - not for his in-ring prowess! What a loser!" Johnny: "Hahaha! Hang on, wasn't the stipulation of this match a Loser-Leaves-Town? Get those paramedics out of the ring - Chris Greene don't work here no more! Hahaha!" Brian: "Guess that's the last we'll see of Chris Greene here in Red Star Combat! Get 'im outta here!" Chris turns off the TV, and sighs. He stands up and stretches. He walked over to a small desk, where a notebook lay. It was a comprehensive notebook he kept of every single match he's ever had. He kept it so that he'd always remember what's happened and where he's been... or something sentimental like that. In fact, it was just a big tally of how many losses he's racked up in his twelve years of in-ring action. W/L Record? Doesn't matter. He's lost over six-hundred times. People have always criticized him, for being too small for his style, for being too slow and methodical, hell, he's even garnered the nickname 'Commercial Break Chris Greene' on the regional scene for some of his offense and lack of defense. But unlike all of those losses and matches and the countless years spent toiling away staring at the lights, he now had a spot. A spot of his own, within Wrestling Club - here in OCW, here in the tag division, a place where he could possibly shine. A whole new territory, with much better and much more credible opponents. He thought back to a few years ago, when he first met John Carter. He was backstage at a local show with a few of his at-the-time friends when Carter won that promotion's top belt - aged only 20, after laying out the promotion's co-owner in the ring. Some way or another, Chris ended up hanging out with Carter, and they had hit it off. Many names and faces have passed him by throughout his career, but Carter has been a constant presence. Some out there say Carter is the only reason Chris stays relevant in any discussion. It doesn't bother Chris, though. As long as he's in the discussion, he's content. He walks away from the desk, and turns the TV back on. It's playing the aftermath of the Benson match - Benson began shooting on Chris for no apparent reason on the outside, busting him up. It was an attack that would leave Chris out of commission for several months back in 2017. Chris: "Hmph," A smirk adorns his face. "Starting this season, things are going to change. After all, it only goes up from here." He turns the TV back off.

A man of relatively small stature in comparison to most Pro Wrestlers, can be seen on camera walking up to a building. He stops in front of the building and the camera pans over to it, revealing it to be the OCW Headquarters. The man smirks, pushes the camera away and heads inside. Thirty minutes later, he exits the building, flashing a signed contract to the camera guy who had oh so patiently waited for him. Chris Greene: "My name, is Chris Greene... and as you can see here," He puts the contract even closer to the camera. "I just signed myself to a sweet, sweet new deal in OCW. Chris Greene is coming to town, man.." He chuckles, then keeps walking. The camera follows. Chris Greene: "I can't lie. It's been tough, these past few years. Never thought I'd make it anywhere. I'll be honest, I'm not the best, nor will I ever claim to be the best of the best. Look at me," He pauses and motions at himself, his five-foot-eight, one-hundred ninety-eight pound toned build that really didn't do himself any favors in this industry. "I look like the kind of guy Vince McMahon feeds to his next big monstrosity. Unlike those guys, however.. I've learned to be able to hold my own against all types of opponents." Chris Greene: "I don't have a fancy nickname, a fancy car, a fancy place, or even fancy, flashy moves... I don't have any of that. What I do got, is skill - skill and knowledge in what I do. Enough skill and knowledge that I was able to land myself a job here in OCW. I won't let this opportunity go to waste. This is my time." He smirks. "I won't let any more people walk all over me. I'm done letting that happen. I've stared at so many lights in so many buildings and it pisses me off that nobody can see the talent they have in me." Chris Greene: "So one last thing - Chris Greene is here to stay. Let me repeat that for you in case it didn't quite rest well with you: Chris Greene.... is here to stay. And you know what? There's nothing none of you can do about it." He approaches a vehicle. Chris Greene: "Now get the hell out of here, I'm done." He shoves the camera man away as he gets in his vehicle, a white Sedan.

WRESTLER NAME: CHRIS GREENE HOMETOWN: Rochester, New York HEIGHT: 5'8" WEIGHT: 206lbs THEME SONG: SIGNATURE MOVES(S): Underhook Arm Drag; Rolling Kneebar 1 FINISHERS(S): Tilt-A-Whirl DDT 1 Biography: Born and raised in Rochester, New York, Christopher David Alleyne, better known to wrestling fans now as Chris Greene, had been a fan of professional wrestling for what seemed like forever. Captivated by the shining bright lights, the roars of the crowd and the athletic ability of the performers in the ring (well, in most cases, that is.) Deciding at an early age that he would join the industry as soon as he could, he would go on to train right out of high school - after spending all of his savings to be in a 3-month long training program at the local training school. Initially debuting as a plucky young underdog, Chris soon decided to be an arrogant, cocky young heel. However, this didn't improve his standing in the industry, and he seemed to rot on the regional circuit. Eventually finding his place in many small-time companies as a gatekeeper-esque heel for the rising stars of the companies. Nearing 30, it seemed he would never find lasting success in a major company. Then he met John Carter. Together, teaming under the guise of "Wrestling Club" and tearing it up on the local scenes, they would join a few short lived companies. John Carter would leave Chris on the regional circuit for a few weeks, joining OCW, and realizing that life on the indies certainly wasn't as fun without his compatriot, Chris soon followed. It is unknown whether or not Chris intends to continue his team with John Carter - especially after John's mouth landed him in some hot water amongst the backstage crew - or if Chris will try to form his own path, and carve out a spot as a singles competitor in OCW.