#native plant rescue squad

[infodumpmedaddy]

If you live in East TN then check out Native Plant Rescue Squad!

as promised, the transplanting tutorial

most sources make transplanting sound incredibly difficult, but transplanting young seedlings from areas with sparse dirt, like a driveway or roadside, is actually incredibly easy and can get you some great stuff. Once I worked out the method, i've had a very high survival rate

it took me like a month of trial and error to figure this out so you don't have to.

Feel free to repost, no need for credit

[naavispider]

Chapter 26 - The Rescue (tumblr version)

A reunion - but it doesn't go down as planned.

Full chapter under the cut for those still struggling with AO3!

The first time Miles saw Chacon back on duty after… the incident was two weeks later. The man had all but flown from his mind - he’d had so much else going on that truthfully, he hadn’t spared Chacon more than one or two passing moments of guilt in all that time. So it was with great surprise that Miles entered the mess to find him sitting back with his cronies at dinner. Miles hadn’t attempted to speak to anyone else from A Unit since he’d been taken off the team, and he could tell from Madden, Taylor and Squirrel's mutinous glares that he hadn’t been missed. Chacon however, wasn’t glaring. He simply watched Miles as he got his food and sat down on a table across the hall from them. Miles wasn’t sure because he didn’t want to keep checking, but he thought that Chacon wouldn’t stop looking at him the whole time he was there. He made a swift exit after finishing his food, and hoped that the number of times they’d have to bump into each other from here on out would remain minimal.

But it wasn’t to be. Three days after their initial encounter, Miles received word that he was needed on a supply run into the forest. He frowned when he read the update - in the middle of using the gym one evening. Supply runs were normally conducted by the SciOps team, with little if any interference from SecOps. Briefing was the next morning, so he supposed he’d find out more then.

He’d been on a few more missions since the one to retrieve Naalot from the Tipani. The first time he’d led a squad was on a mission to scout out the scene of a train raid by insurgents. The natives had pulled their usual stunt of blowing up the tracks, derailing the train and stealing whatever goods they could get their grotty hands on. It had taken days to clean up before the construction guys could get in and repair the damage. Throughout it all, Miles did his best to be a calm, confident leader that his men could look up to. He’d come to know them well by now, and they worked good together. He was respected and could tell that they held him in high regard. As a result, their squad was extremely successful, and now they were usually the first to be called upon whenever there was a major incident that required SecOps intervention. Miles was proud.

So he was surprised to walk into briefing the next morning and find none of his squad were assigned to the mission with him. It was a new team composed mostly of recoms - Quaritch, Wainfleet, Mansk and Z-Dog - as well as three other men. Two were xenobotanists who introduced themselves as Langley and Dubois when Miles entered, and the other was... Corporal Chacon.

Miles stilled when his eyes fell upon the man, confusion clouding his face. He looked at Quaritch as if hoping for reassurance that Chacon was supposed to be here, but the Colonel was in conversation with Wainfleet. Because the team was small and there were so many empty chairs in the room, Miles took a seat across the table from him, making sure to show his scepticism in every movement.

“Thank you all for making it,” Quaritch began, realising that everyone was here. “This is a small mission, but an important one nonetheless. The hospital has run low on a few supplies, and it’s our job to make sure those stocks are replenished. We have a list of the type and volume of plants they need, so we move out this afternoon to bring home the goods. Now don’t ask me the ins and outs of what these things are used for, but if it gets me painkillers when I need ‘em, I ain’t questioning it. Junior, Chacon,” he nodded at the two soldiers, “you’re here to assist our botanist friends Langley and Dubois with any human sized assistance needed, while the recom squad is there for security.” He went on to explain timings, equipment and transport, before opening the floor to questions. Miles only had one, but he knew it was better saved for a more private forum.

“Sir,” he said, once everyone else had dispersed.

Quaritch turned to him. “Yes, Junior?”

Miles had long since gotten used to Quaritch calling him by his surname by this point. Just spit it out. “Why is Chacon on this team?”

Quaritch stilled, thinking hard. “He volunteered,” he slowly said through a frown. “I’d forgotten you two have history… will this be a problem?”

“No, Sir,” Miles hastily replied. The last thing he needed was for Quaritch to think he wasn’t capable of working with the guy. He’d die before he’d let his reliability be compromised. “I was just curious.”

“Well, like I said, he offered when he heard the medics making a request. He’s grateful for the treatments they provided, and wants to give back.” Quaritch eyed Miles as if to remind him that this was all Miles’s fault, if he traced it back.

“Yes, Sir,” he said, before bowing his head shortly and retreating out.

He grabbed some food on his way to the hangar, having not long to get ready before rallying at the gunships at 10:00. A quick porridge later, and he found himself standing in front of the armoury, selecting his gear and arming up just like he had done so many times before. He jumped when a voice sounded behind him.

“It’s been a while, Junior.”

He grit his teeth and spun around, throwing Chacon a look that told him he was anything but remorseful for beating him up. He didn’t want to hear whatever grudge the guy had to bear.

“You’re a Lieutenant now, I hear?”

Miles narrowed his eyes. Chacon’s face still wasn’t completely healed - the skin around his left eye was discoloured, but it was only noticeable because Miles knew what to look for. He didn’t look angry though, and Miles wished he would. “If you’re looking for an apology, you won’t find one here,” he said shortly, turning back around to select a rifle before double checking his holster and knife belt were secure.

“That’s cool, because I’m not looking for an apology.”

“Then why are you here?” Miles hissed. “Why are you on this mission?”

Chacon didn’t look affronted, keeping a neutral expression on his face even through Miles’s hostility. “The medbay helped me when I was… out of action. There are some great people there.”

Miles’s fingers flexed into fists at his side. He did not need Chacon’s vague hints about being a spy now. The man was a traitor against his own people… and so was Janine.

“You’re on thin ice…”

“I just want to help them get the resources they need for medicine.”

Miles stared at Chacon, not believing a word, before deciding that it was too much to entertain. Chacon was dangerous - he could get Miles into a lot of shit if he decided to. He shoved past Chacon on his way out of the armoury, making sure to bump him hard, and grabbed a mask on his way out.

He regrouped with the xenobotanists, who were waiting near a fired up Kestral with the recoms already aboard. He gave Dubois a curt nod in greeting, and let him know to ask if he needed anything. A minute later and Chacon had caught up, armed to the nines just like Miles. Miles made a point of ignoring him as he clambered into the cargo hold.

The ship took off, rising higher and higher over the compound. Golden light flooded the compartment of the gunship as the panoramic view of Pandora was revealed to them. It was beautiful as always, but Miles had gotten used to seeing it by now, and he was far too preoccupied with trying to work out Chacon’s greater motivations for being here. He suspected a hand to his back any moment, about to shove him out of the ship to his death. Although ridiculous, he couldn’t rule it out. Chacon had earned the right to revenge. At least Quaritch would probably send Chacon out to join him in being a pancake if that did happen.

After a journey so smooth it was almost suspicious, the Kestral landed in an area two clicks west of Bridgehead. It was an area not known to be inhabited by any clans, so their only challenges should be the wildlife. In the mission briefing, Quaritch had explained that Miles was joining them as part security and part expert botanist due to his past. As the recoms trained their rifles on the treeline, Miles withdrew his holotablet from his backpack, and began following Langley and Dubois towards the specific area that contained the first organism on the list. Langley spotted the Canalyd plant first, leading the group over to the patch and withdrawing a sample cup from his own backpack.

“Five at least?” Miles double checked the amount with Dubois.

“That should be enough,” the man replied, gesturing for Miles to continue searching while they extracted the sporangia from the long stalks on the top of the plant. Behind them, the recoms kept their weapons raised, their eyes in the trees.

After twenty minutes, the scientists had collected three of the seven plants on the list, and were just about to suggest they search an area to their left when Quaritch called out.

“Hold it!”

Miles immediately raised his rifle, training it on the patch of trees that Quaritch was aiming at. For a tense moment, everyone was silent, watching the area where Quaritch was staring hard at.

“There’s something out there…” Quaritch spoke in a low and tense voice.

Just then, an arrow shot out of nowhere with zero warning, straight into Mansk’s chest. For a split second, Miles stared in horror, before leaping into action and firing his AR into the area from where the arrow had been shot. The noise was deafening after the silence, as guns all around him fired in unison.

“NA’VI!” Wainfleet roared, spinning around to face their six, but it was too late - another long poisoned arrow had been shot, hitting him right through the neck and out the other side. Miles’s scream caught in his throat as he yelled for the botanists to take cover, keeping his gun raised and firing into the trees as with his other he gestured for the two men to follow his direction behind a fallen tree. Everything seemed sped up and in multi-colour. One moment, the two men were running towards the tree, the next, their limp bodies hit the ground, gunned down like animals - wait, gunned down? Chacon was standing beside him, his gun raised…

Miles turned in horror to see what had become of the rest of the squad, but was met with the sight of an arrowhead protruding from Z-dog’s eyeball. Her hand twitched against the trigger of her recom M69-AR, letting off a few more rounds before she collapsed to the ground, dead.

The only thing Miles could hear was the roar of the Colonel’s furious outcry, before the words, “Get down!” were called out around the clearing. Miles recognised the voice, but things were happening too fast for their owner to register in his brain. Before he knew it, Chacon was beside him, a hand on his shoulder forcing him down as gunfire rained down on them from somewhere above. Miles couldn’t understand it - he hadn’t seen anybody. Whoever was attacking them knew their tactics - they knew how to hide. He heard a distant cry and a thump as someone else hit the floor, and Chacon’s hand was still gripping his shoulder tightly, holding him down, out of the way - he didn’t know what was going on, he couldn’t see because of the ground pressed into his face, Chacon had shot Langley and Dubois, he didn’t trust him…

Then, the gunfire ended. The hand on his shoulder released, and Miles scrambled up to assess the scene. His hands were on his rifle in less than half a second, and good thing too, because when he stood up, he was face to torso with a nine foot tall Na’vi warrior, whose figure was blocking out the sun. Miles couldn’t take in any more of his appearance than the fact that he had a bow and arrow pointing directly at Miles’s heart.

He gasped, instinct telling him to shoot immediately, but his other senses stopped him. From the corner of his eye, he saw another warrior on his right - a woman, terrifying and familiar, her war paint seeming to shine in the sunlight as she raised Eytukan’s bow...

It couldn’t be her-

He cast around, seeing more warriors emerging from the trees, surrounding him.

He was outnumbered.

The recoms were dead. There was nothing he could do. He spun to his right, raising his rifle to Neytiri. This had to be a dream.

He switched his aim to the warrior in front of him, trying to make it clear that he could shoot either one of them if they made another move.

“Spider,” came a voice to his left.

He spun around to find it - but it was… Chacon. Standing by his side, calm.

Chacon was standing with a… relieved? look on his face. His weapon was lowered, and he held a hand out as if to push Miles’s rifle down.

“Spider, be calm,” he said in a voice clearly intended to reassure.

Miles was a thousand yards away from calm.

The Na’vi warriors still surrounded them. He cast his eyes over them once more, abandoning Chacon’s words of madness to better assess the threat. The men were… Omatikayan. If Neytiri was here, could…

He took a heaving breath. It didn’t matter. He’d find a way to escape this, to shoot them all.

“Lower your weapon,” one of them spoke.

But Miles was distracted by the figure emerging from behind the man. A tall, blue, intimidating figure with black dreads held back by a Burnfiber band. He knew that face…

Wait.

He knew that face.

He gasped, raising his rifle even higher as he realised he was staring straight into the eyes of Jake Sully.

His brain couldn’t compute what he was seeing in front of him with what was really happening.

“Spider…” the man said, in a gentle tone. Unlike the others, Sully wasn’t holding a weapon. He had one hand outstretched, as if to pacify Miles.

Then a voice that was comfortingly familiar sounded from behind him. The right kind of voice, the voice he longed to listen to. “Shoot him, Miles!”

He dared take his eyes off the target to see Quaritch on his knees behind him, disarmed and on the ground. A warrior stood behind him, holding a knife to Quaritch’s kuru.

“What are you waiting for? Shoot him!”

Miles should listen. He wanted to listen. He wanted to fire.

But if he did that, he’d be shot right back in retaliation. They all would - Quaritch and Chacon included.

Chacon.

Chacon was two feet to his left, his rifle hanging relaxedly on his back… He’d betrayed them. He’d led them to the Na’vi. Miles turned his weapon slowly.

“You don’t want to do that, Spider,” Chacon replied, raising his hands in surrender.

“That’s not my name,” Miles hissed, fury and confusion clouding his thoughts until he wasn’t sure he could think straight any longer.

“Spider.” Miles jumped, turning towards the voice. It was Jake Sully. “It’s okay. We’re here. We’ve got you. It’s all over.”

Feelings and thoughts threatened to flood Miles’s senses as the nostalgia in Jake’s voice hit him like a tonne of bricks. There had been a time when he idolised the man now standing in front of him. If he let them, he knew his memories would break him down and tear him apart. He fought them all off with a vengeance. Overwhelmed, he stumbled back, keeping his gun raised.

“Put the gun down,” Jake said, eyes flickering to his wife.

“You left me…” Miles choked out, barely aware of what he was saying.

“Kill him!” Quaritch roared from behind.

Miles kept his eyes trained on Jake. He hadn’t changed at all, yet Miles could find himself barely remembering what he was supposed to look like.

“I know, but we came back now…”

“Spider?” Another voice, a different voice. Miles didn’t need to cast around for its owner, because the boy that it belonged to emerged from behind a tree beside his father.

Neteyam.

Miles couldn’t help the noise he made when faced with the impossibly real sight of his once brother. Neteyam was really standing in front of him, his forehead taught with concern, eyes deep with longing and a plea for understanding. Even after all this time, Spider could read him so well. “We missed you, Spider,” Neteyam said cautiously, looking him dead in the eyes and ignoring the rifle pointing straight at his heart. “Lo’ak and Kiri especially.”

Something turned off in Spider’s brain. He couldn’t make sense of the situation. Jake and Neteyam couldn’t be real. Kiri and Lo’ak? They were just imaginary. He didn’t know what was happening. He wanted it to end.

“Shoot him, goddamnit Miles! You useless piece of shit!”

Spider didn’t register the sound of a thud followed by a groan that implied someone had just hit Quaritch.

“I- I don’t…”

“Spider,” Neytiri spoke, and Spider spun around with a gasp to point the gun at her. He’d completely forgotten she was here. It was too much. For the first time, she lowered her bow. “We’ve come to bring you home.” No. It was too much.

“Spider, I promise it’s okay,” Jake said from beside Neteyam.

The only thing Spider knew was that if he gave up his weapon, he was giving up control. He couldn’t do that. He gripped it tighter, hand hovering over the trigger…

A heavy clunk. A brutal ache in his temple, and then darkness was all he knew.

[kyberled]

👤

Send a 🙌 and I’ll introduce you to an NPC related to my Muse. || Accepting

This means any minor ‘background character’ in my Muse’s life, such as a relative, coworker, friend, rival, etc. that they interact with in their personal canon.

Lieutenant Regiment Commander ARC-4496 ‘Kriss’ was a clone trooper who served in the 423rd Flare Corps under Jedi Master Dhisit Riloff and clone commander CC-2331 ‘Dash’. Though he could be a bit blunt at times, especially when his temper was sparked, Kriss was widely regarded as a good man, soldier, and brother. He had a strong sense of loyalty to both the Republic and his brothers. He attained his rank primarily by his dedication to do what needs to be done to keep his brothers safe, and achieve the mission goal. A very no-nonsense man, Kriss drew a very bold, noticeable line between what was acceptable of the men under his command, and what wasn’t. In spite of this, he did care for his brothers very much. His men knew they could come to him for any problem, and could rely on him for backup and/or protection (within reason) from anyone outside their ranks.

Appearance-wise, Kriss was about average height for a clone, with a physique that just-so-slightly favoured upper body strength over lower - one of his hobbies was grappling with Dash, and maybe some of his other brothers, too, but those two were each others’ preferred partners, most days, and Kriss would count Dash as his best friend. His eyes were a bit darker than average, but you’d have to either stare at him for a long time (he will get annoyed/uncomfortable) or have one of his brothers right beside him to notice it. He kept his hair shaved, but would often wait at least a few days in between each shaving, so he was often sporting a head of dark stubble. Interestingly enough, he would always be clean shaven when it came to his facial hair (something that his closer brothers would tease him about, from time to time). He had a small notch in his right nostril, that was perfectly in line with another that sliced through the left side of his upper lip. This, as well as a small scar through the end of his right eyebrow, was from a rather nasty injury he’d received when he was younger, following an explosion from which he had shielded his younger brother, Mal (CT-4527). Another scar ran in a straight line from his left clavicle (right beside where the muscles connecting his neck and shoulders ended) to a few inches down his pectoral muscle. This was from a very unfortunate encounter with General Grievous, where Kriss would have lost his own life if not for the interference of Master Riloff, Master Riloff’s then-padawan (a Nautolan named Sudic Dra, who unfortunately did not survive the encounter; Kriss blamed himself for this), a good many of the rest of the Corps, and a rather timely arrival of a fighter squad. Some would call this dumb luck or the intervention of the Force; Kriss thought of it as cruel irony. Kriss also has a tattoo stretching across his right shoulder and upper arm, and his back, consisting of swirling symbols and dark lines in intricate patterns. Typically, his armour and blacks cover this, so most non-vod and/or medical personnel haven’t seen it. His voice was a bit rougher than the average clone, a bit deeper and more gravelly, but, still sounded enough like the rest of them that outsiders would have trouble picking them apart.

Aside from grappling, Kriss enjoyed drinking alone (he was up for 79′s only some days, as he found the experience enjoyable, but very draining) (he also preferred darker spirits to the lighter), star gazing, swimming, arm wrestling, yoga, unarmed sparring, and sabacc. When he was young, (from about the ages 2 to 5/6, a nameless little cadet), Kriss had the nervous habit of chewing his fingernails; He broke the habit at around age six (perhaps just a bit before his decanting day, perhaps a bit after, he’s not entirely sure), but still keeps his nails short enough that there’s barely any whites. He found the hum of engines soothing, and could often be found reading or doing his datawork in hangars or repair bays for just that purpose. Aside from that, he didn’t like listening to music much in his spare time, and any other background noise was distracting, so, if the hangars were too noisy, or he didn’t feel like being there, he would often be doing his work in his bunk in the barracks. He had a minor fascination with plants and greenery - more so when he was fresh out of the factories on Kamino, but, he retained this throughout his life. There wasn’t anything like that in the factories, or the barracks, and though Coruscant had its parks there wasn’t a lot of flora there, either, so he thought plants were interesting. He didn’t have much interest in pressed flowers, though, or any plants that weren’t currently alive and sprouting. On the odd occasion where the men were given any food outside of ration bars and nutrient paste, he preferred spicy and bitter flavours. He took his caf black, and made a point of knowing how to repair the caf machine(s), so that he would never have to go without - in fact, he kept a few small tools in one of the pouches on his belt for just such an occasion. Kriss was also a very light sleeper. Because of this, could usually be found with his pillow loosely pulled over his head, to try and muffle any noises his brothers made during the night. He had a very blunt, straightforwards way of speaking, though he wasn’t above a bit of biting, cynical sarcasm, when he was especially annoyed - a trait he shared with Dash, though Kriss was undoubtedly the more talkative of the two (However, given how quiet Dash was known to be, this wasn’t saying much). He wasn’t much for telling jokes, but when he did, it was usually accompanied by a slight eyebrow raise and a deceptively sugary tone that Kriss rarely ever used elsewise.

In terms of combat, Kriss preferred being in close combat with the clanker armies. Some may call it reckless, and they would be right, but he enjoyed the adrenaline rush. He preferred dual-wielding blaster pistols, but also enjoyed the payoff of grenade launchers. For this, among other reasons, he vastly preferred fighting away from civilisation.

Kriss was about twelve and a half years old (25, physically) when Master Riloff and the 423rd travelled to the planet of Tassish XII (known to the locals as Galé’Galui), accompanied by Padawan Braig. Kriss had been left in charge of the group with the refugees (referred to colloquially as Galé), both on account of Braig being more in charge of healing and helping the local physician, Lélé’ri’ann (and their apprentice/partner, Makula), and because both Riloff and Dash had doubts that leaving Braig in charge was at all a responsible idea, despite him being the highest-ranking officer left behind. Braig didn’t feel especially slighted by this, as Force-Healing does take a great deal of focus. As such, he was more than happy to leave Kriss to commanding the men and give his help where he could, leading to a neutral, but civil, first impression between the two. (Kriss had expected some deal of whining, of ‘but I can handle it!’ or ‘but I’m a Jedi, too!’, or worst of all, ‘but he’s just a clone!’. He was pleasantly surprised when none of this came.)

When the 423rd was massacred, Kriss was not the one who saw Braig stagger and almost fall (That was Boone, CT-5012). He was the one who took one look at the padawan’s face, heard him say ‘we have to go’, and instantly rallied the men and started grilling Go’ann and the other elders for a possible escape route. He was among the men who held out hope that the Republic would come for them. When the then-Sergeant Mal broke under the stress, insisting that the group should turn themselves over to the Separatists and see what happened, Kriss, along with Nada (CT-5342) and Trickshot (CT-5101), were the first and most vocal in telling him to shut his mouth. When Rikii, a native (who Kriss had feelings for, but would not admit to until later), attempted to find peace between the feuding brothers, the altercation turned violent on Mal’s part; Kriss had enough of that, and through a convoluted and rapid chain of events, shot Mal between the eyes. He later claimed that this was necessary. Mal, Kriss thought, was out of control and a liability. Typical Kriss, some would say, making the difficult choices. This caused a schism among the men and the refugees, and it would be a while before it smoothed over. (It is also worth noting that Mal’s death, in Braig’s official report of the incident, was listed as an accident; There is no documented mention of Kriss’ involvement.)

Kriss was the first of the men to ingest a native, underground species of insect: the maguwe grub, which would become one of their primary sources of protein when emergency rations ran out. Annoyed that his brothers were being such ‘shines’ about it, Kriss grabbed a handful and stuffed them into his mouth. Upon being informed that they were usually cooked first, he shrugged, swallowed, and said, ‘Taste fine to me’.

Towards the end of the Grau Tessk incident, Kriss confided in Braig (worrying about how his brothers might react) that he planned to stay behind when the Republic did come for them, as he was sure they would; He wanted to stay with Rikii. He was also worried some of his injuries wouldn’t heal properly in time for their rescue, rendering him unable to be of service to the Republic (and likely on the chopping block for termination). Braig promised to list Kriss as ‘KIA’, to avoid him being sought out, and informed Kriss of his own decision to have the surviving members of the 423rd invited to join the 212th Attack Battalion. Kriss said that that only confirmed his decision, as the 423rd was the only one for him - but asked Braig to please take care of his brothers, all the same. Unfortunately, Rikii (along with Hype [CT-4996], Hardwire [CT-4997], Scratch [CT-5501], Trickshot, and the Galé Soh and Kurita, among others) met their end in a series of raids performed on Separatist slave encampments. Following this, Kriss approached Braig in the tunnels and asked if ‘there [was] room for one more in the 212th’. Of course, Braig said yes.

Following Braig’s fateful encounter and battle with General Grau Tessk, Kriss was one of the two men (along with Boone) who carried the injured padawan back to the tunnels. He was also part of the improvised strike force that had helped to take the general down. This was one of the only times his brothers were privy to his wavering faith in the Republic, though it would soon be renewed a few weeks later.

When the Republic came, Kriss aided in the liberation of Galé’Galui/Tassish XII after a brief stint in a medbay (which many would say he rushed, and blame for his resultant leg injury after he lost his balance and fell down a ravine. This required a long stay in bacta; even then, his knees would bother him when rain was on the way for the rest of his life). He did go on to join the 212th, and continued to serve his brothers and the Republic loyally, never faltering in his decisions. While Commander Cody (CC-2224) was far different from Dash, Kriss still respected him and his leadership greatly, and was more than happy to serve under him. Kriss continued on in his reputation of carrying out all of his orders with precision - including Order 66. He was eventually killed by a rebel strike force during the Imperial age, about three or four years before the Battle of Yavin. His life might have met its end at the end of a lightsaber, depending on who you ask.

Bonus fact: In his own way, his tattoo represented all those who were close to him that he lost. Some of the most detailed portions would represent Dash, Master Riloff, Padawan Dra, Rikii, and a clone named Carver (CT-4302), who had been Kriss’ close friend during training, but was unfortunately killed when the assassin, Asajj Ventress, and the Droid armies invaded the clone facilities on Kamino.

[animalsoriginalstory]

Characters-Brief Summaries

Here’s a list of all the characters that are basically the good guys (I haven’t figured out the villains yet)

(Name): (Age); (Gender); (Ethnicity); (Short Bio/Personality); (Weapon of Choice, if applicable)

Darren Tethen: 38; Male; Black; a pianist for a theater in Chicago who usually takes it upon himself to get rid of any people who harasses his fellow employees, though he honestly doesn’t care much for them and would rather work as a solo artist; Fists.

Neena Smith: 20; Female; Black; Darren’s niece who also works at the theater and loves it there. She usually tries to perk up her uncle’s attitude but isn’t very successful. She’s also an expert hacker.

Zedd Simms: 36; Trans Male; White; owner of a small coffee shop in New Orleans who struggles to keep business afloat. He usually has to compete with chain coffee shops, like Star Donuts, but he easily destroys the competition (literally) and stays afloat; Guns, especially sniper rifles.

Rascal Ricci: 18; Male; Hispanic; Zedd used to babysit him when he was little and now he’s one of Zedd’s Best/Worst minions. He usually takes a job at chain coffee shops that recently open up so he can plant explosives in the building, which detonate after all the other workers go home. He really likes rats and mice and has a pet mouse named Possom (to make up for the fact he can’t have a real opossom); Fists and Knife.

Randy Russo: 21; Male; White; one of Zedd’s other minions, who has a huge pompadour and a shiny black leather jacket. He’s very talkative but sometimes he says stupid things that offend some people, though he means no harm by it. he just doesn’t think before he speaks; Fists, knife and handgun.

Hunter Valentine: 22; Male; White; the leader of the greaser trio, he has some muscle and is usually the one to reprimand Randy for saying stupid shit (assuming Zedd isn’t around to do it) and make sure Rascal doesn’t do anything stupid; Fists, brass knuckles and knife.

Crystal Gomez: 20; Female; Hispanic; one of Zedd’s coffee shop employees and is the only employee who is aware of his and the greasers’ action against the chain coffee shops. She helps sometimes and knows how to fire a sniper rifle and hack a computer; sniper rifle.

Quinton Jordan: 32; Male; Black; a marine biologist in Los Angeles who specializes in sharks and gets annoyed how people assume sharks to be mindless killers when they’re actually not so bad. He usually sinks shark hunting ships to protect the local shark population; Guns.

Pepe Rodriguez: 30; Male; Hispanic; during the day, he usually drives the ship for Quinton’s research team around the ocean, but at night, when necessary, he aids Quinton in his missions to sink shark-hunting ships. He usually hops on board the vessels and throws some sailors overboard to attract the attention of the sharks and sometimes loots some of the rooms before quickly making a getaway; Harpoon

Antonio Gonzales: 34; Male; Hispanic; a member of Quinton’s ship-sinking group, Gonzales uses firepower to sink the huge vessels. He especially loves using cannons, since it’s a classic way to get the job done. His recent weapon of usage is a punt gun; firearms of any sort, including cannons and punt guns.

Camille Gonzales: 33; Female; Hispanic; Antonio’s wife who is also a member of Quinton’s ship-sinking crew at night, but as an assistant during the day. She speaks little English, so Gonzales usually speaks for her and translates whatever anyone says to her.

Floyd Cane: 32; Male; White; the owner of an animal shelter in New York City, Floyd is very fond of dogs. He’s mostly keen on pit bulls but is irritated about how people perceive them to be violent by nature, when that wasn’t true. He usually tries to rescue stray pit bulls before PETA gets to them to put them down, but if they do manage to beat him to a stray, he later breaks into their HQ and rescues the animals to put in his own shelter. Fortunately, the shelter is pretty popular so overcrowding isn’t a issue; fists and brass knuckles

Lou Cane: 32; Male; White; Floyd’s twin brother who served in the military overseas for a while. When he came back to the states, Floyd recruited him for his cause in saving innocent dogs and cats from PETA. Lou is usually up to the job, mainly because he has nothing better to do in the evening after he closes his bar; guns, fists, and glass bottles.

Rizzo Jackson: 30; Male; Black; one of the workers in Floyd’s animal shelter, he usually takes care of all the dogs, though their hyper energy drives him insane sometimes. He also aids Floyd in rescuing animals from PETA, using a baseball as a weapon; baseball bat.

Yolanda Glory: 30; Female; Mixed (Black/White); the receptionist for Floyd’s animal shelters, it’s her job to check any animals Floyd finds in and any animals that get adopted out. She loves her jobs because of all the cute dogs and cats she sees. She usually drives one of the getaway vans for Floyd’s animal rescue missions and is mean with a cattle prod; Cattle prod.

Ida Cane: 60; Female; White; Floyd and Lou’s mother who has a smart mouth and a fondness for cats. She’s usually the other getaway driver for Floyd’s escapades, but on the condition that she keeps one of the cats. She’s hoping to attain a Siamese one day.

Leeroy Winters: 30; Male; Mixed (Black/White/Indigenous); having Cherokee roots on his maternal grandmother’s side of the family, Leeroy and his younger brother decided to go to North Carolina to connect with their roots. They’ve helped the local Cherokee reserve collect money to stay alive, but they’ve been having issues with people who refuse to donate due to discriminating reasons. Leeroy’s solution is to hunt down the people, murder them in cold blood, and rob them. It has helped the reserve a lot, but Delsin wishes he’d stop; tomahawks.

Nat Winters: 24; Male; Mixed (Black/White/Indigenous); he joins Leeroy and Delsin on their work to get money for the Cherokee reserve. He’s aware of Leeroy’s murderous actions, but does little to stop it. He doesn’t encourage his older brother to do it, but he doesn’t try to discourage him either. He knows nothing can stop Leeroy; baseball bat.

Delsin: 30; Male; Native American; when he first met Leeroy, he didn’t think of him as more than a person who was interested in connecting to their heritage. When he learns that Leeroy had committed murder to collect most of the money for the reserve, he is beyond horrified. He’s kept track of Leeroy’s actions and has determined he’s done it 20 times so far and wishes to try to get him to stop before he gets arrested or worse. Little does Delsin know, Leeroy’s kill counter is FAR higher than 20...

Janice Jones: 32; Female; Black; a lawyer from Washington DC who specializes in aiding special victims, like children, the elderly, the disabled, and rape victims. She usually tries to serve justice and comes up with pretty compelling evidence that should throw her opponent into prison, but due to certain factors, namely an un-diverse jury and a bribing enemy lawyer, she’s not often successful. Which is usually when her “evil twin” steps in; handgun.

Junice Jones: 32; Female; Black; Janice’s twin sister who works kind of like a hitwoman but not really. She kills Janice’s opponent in court if she’s not successful in the trial, especially if the opponent is a rapist, believing that’ll give Janice’s client peace of mind. While it kind of does, Janice wants her sister to stay out of her work before they both get in trouble with the law; guns, especially rifles.

Angela Canciones: 24; Female; Hispanic; one of Janice’s friends who knows how to hold her own in a fight and has a strong protectiveness over any children she becomes associated with. Angela is trying to raise money to give to her mother so she can open her coffee shop; guns and fists.

Gertrude Weber: 44; Female; White; one of Janice’s neighbors who served time in the military. She’s an expert sniper and chef and is always kind of everyone she meets...unless they give her a reason not to be; guns.

Roscoe Lopez: 22; Male; Hispanic; another one of Janice’s neighbors who lives with his mom and little sister. He is usually very reserved but is very skilled in fist and knife fights; knife and fists.

Yuri and Kuri Lee: 19; Female; Asian; twin Korean girls who work for Junice and take great joy in their murderous work. Yuri has a bionic left eye and bionic legs that make her taller than she actually is and have wheels that can be converted into round feet. Kuri has a bionic right eye and bionic arms that are larger than necessary. They don’t like to talk about how they lost their limbs and eyes; their enhanced prosthetic limbs.

Rainbow Flores: 22; Male; White; a hippie who has a passion for using automatic firearms and works for Junice. He has a very chill and friendly attitude usually, but once he has his hands on a gun, he becomes a sadistic maniac; automatic guns.

Muhammad Shiraz: 48; Male; Middle Eastern; the owner of an orphanage and is known as one of the kindest people in his town. He cares a great deal about his employees and the orphans. Whenever a terrorist group holds a village hostage, Muhammad takes it upon himself to go to the village, take down the enemies and save the people, preferably before  a squad of soldiers shows up and just kills everyone they see, including the innocents; fists.

Aisha Kareem: 44; Female; Middle Eastern; one of Muhammad’s trusted employees, Aisha looks after the children of the orphanage. She also operates as a teacher for them, mostly regarding things involving the Qur’an. She, along with the other employees, are aware of Muhammad’s actions but don’t tell the children.

Ali “Thorn”: 24; Male; Middle Eastern; an orphan Muhammad saved 10 years ago who grew up to be a man bitter towards the foreign soldier squads, due to the fact that they killed his and his younger sister, Yashira’s, parents. One soldier spared his life and confronted their commander about it, only to be killed. Thorn holds a strong resentment towards the military, blaming them for his losses and becomes hostile to any foreigners he meets; fists.

Yashira: 16; Female; Middle Eastern; an orphan Muhammad saved 10 years ago who acts as an older sister to the younger orphans. She often wonders where her older brother is and what he’s doing, since she hasn’t seen him since he left the orphanage when he was 18; fists.

Abdul: 10; Male; Middle Eastern; an orphan Muhammad came across as a toddler after coming across a village full of slaughtered people. He took him back to the orphanage, where he was raised for most of his life. Abdul has a great respect for Muhammad and sees Yashira as the older he either never had or lost.

Aika Fu: 6; Female; Asian; a little girl who is wanted by a crime syndicate in Japan for unknown reasons, reasons the Yakuza wish to know. She appears to be a normal child and knows no English, so the Yakuza members have to act as her translators frequently.

Mr. Okimura: 62; Male; Asian; the leader of the last Yakuza family in all of Japan. He took pity on Aika’s situation and rounded up some foreign criminals and delinquents that he knew would rescue her.

Akira Yukimura: 40; Male; Asian; a commander in the Yakuza who is very serious and driven. He is very formal and expects the best from their foreign helpers; fists and knife.

Dai Kurosawa: 44; Male; Asian; another commander of the Yakuza who is very quirky and good-humored. He gets the job done but does so in a way that would be considered ludicrous. He loves his wife, Yuki, and supports his daughters’ ambitions; knife, fists and baseball bat.

Ryu Himura: 20; Male; Asian; a young man who goes to the same college Makoto and Ashi goes to. He overhears them talking about Aika and decides to set out to find her himself. He sees a blue light in the sewers and goes down to investigate, where he sees Aika and tries to catch her but she escapes. He tells the Yakuza a few days later.

Makoto Kurosawa: 18; Female; Asian; the eldest of the Kurosawa Seven, who is very kind and protective of others. She was assigned to contact Darren; Katana

Ashi Kurosawa: 18; Female; Asian; the second of the Kurosawa Seven, who is very serious and tolerates not fooling around. She was assigned to contact Zedd; dual sai

Haruka Kurosawa: 18; Female; Asian; the third of the Kurosawa Seven who is very scary and irritable. She was assigned to contact Quinton; Kanabo

Ichika Kurosawa: 18; Female; Asian; the fourth of the Kurosawa Seven who is very laid-back and good-humored. She was assigned to contact Leeroy; kusarigama

Yuna Kurosawa: 18; Female; Asian; the fifth of the Kurosawa Seven who is very excitable and adores cute things. She was assigned to contact Floyd; shurikens

Sakura Kurosawa: 18; Female; Asian; the sixth of the Kurosawa Seven who is very smart and dignified. She was assigned to contact Muhammad; tonfas and naginata

Fuka Kurosawa: 18; Female; Asian; the last of the Kurosawa Seven who is very curious and talkative. She was assigned to contact Janice and Junice; butterfly knives.

[surelypovichjr]

Death in North Bethesda

Dietle’s Bites the Big One!

Photograph by Flickr user Gloria.

It brings me great displeasure to have to report on a horrible tragedy that has befallen a once noble pillar of our ever-changing community. As many of you by now well know, the other week, the great Hank Dietle’s Roadside Tavern, the first watering hole in all of Montgomery County, the rowdiest in all of Rockville, the Mariana Trench of DC dives, the skeeviest of the skeevy, and yes, the under-the-table hand job mecca of MoCo, met an untimely end. A sad day for Rockville Pike and a sadder day for Yers Surely.

The local papers have seemed almost afraid to cover what should be an above-the-fold A1 story.  The few reports that have come out have been scant at best, a canard of an ill-fated cigarette flicked into a potted plant as the alleged culprit of the great blaze. But the overwhelming conflagration that engulfed my favorite watering hole shall never overwhelm the many memories I have of that ole pile a’bricks.

via Pete Piringer/MoCo Fire & Rescue

I realize that I am far from the only one among the grieving; Dietle’s has been properly eulogized by others in song and prose but it has taken me a fortnight to come to terms with its denouement. Indeed, the minyan of drunkards have already touched upon the things that made Dietle’s objectively great – the stoic, hard-nosed nature of the place, its delightfully meager offerings, a bag of Utz potato chips, salt and vinegar if you caught them on a good night, watching the Nighthawks play live after sellin’ em blow, drinking bad draft beer tasting of cold deer piss, but delicious nonetheless.

But these stories have been told already!

I wanna get a little bit more personal about what Hank Dietle’s meant to me. Ya see, Hank’s is where I got my first taste of the good life, back when I was a young kid with a shock of red hair with the pubes to boot!

A shot of Old Granddad, bought by my famous sportswriter dad, is what I remember. That and the bar flies, talking a lot of mishegas about that whole Watergate nonsense; I remember the token floozy, Susan Blumenthal, 38 and sunburnt, slathering aloe on her back after a weekend passed out on the Ocean City boardwalk; the alimony dodger, Mitchell Glick, looking paranoid from ‘ludes and a starving ex-wife; and wait, who’s that but the Head Hog himself, George Starke! Dad had invited Georgie-boy to Hanky D’s as he thought a bit of libation might get the great offensive lineman to loosen his lips. It took almost the entire night, and an under-the-table handjob from Suzie B. but sure enough dad was right and Starke spilled the beans on the debacle that was the Washington Redskins season. What dad had was gold, a fresh yarn of the power struggle between Sonny Jurgensen, fresh upstart Billy Kilmer, which had the Over-The-Hill Gang ’73 squad in an uproar. I’ll be damned if dad didn’t get his big, masterful scoop on the front page of the Washington Post, above the fold A1! Eat it Woodward.

I also met my first and third wife at Hank Dietle’s—same person, in case you were wondering. 

As for the future, it’s here that my biggest questions arise. As the great mystic once asked, is it better to burn out or to fade away? I guess it depends on the size of the fire.

I personally have very specific instructions for my own departure, a native Washingtonian’s viking funeral. As woman after woman has said “you’re dead to me”, it’s only natural that I’ve fully contemplated my own earthly dispatch. We’ll start things off with my expired corpse, which shall be placed in a seat on the red line train from Grosvenor, embarking north towards Shady Grove, which will allow me to pass through all of my favorite Rockville Pike establishments, most of them, like me, having closed for good. It’s when we pass the Silver Diner that the Walter Johnson High School band will take up their instruments, playing a big band rendition of the title song to an old Hal Ashby flick, a movie for which I have never received my proper screenwriting accreditation. Where was I when this idea came forth? At Dietle’s, of course! Hal was so drunk he got the title all wrong for a movie set in our nation’s capital--the hell if that wasn’t Randy Quaid is playing me in what shoulda been called The Last Dietle! A story for another day, dear readers.

The Last Detail/dir.Hal Ashby

As fire investigators close the case, I can’t help but wonder about whether there’s a good old-fashioned cover up. Like Watergate, only if it actually happened and wasn’t a complete fabrication. Perhaps there was foul play afoot?

“C’mon Surely, who would want to burn down a shithole like Dietle’s, charming as it may be?”

“To this I’d ask you to get up from your barstool and take a good gander across the street. Tell me, whaddya see?”

Wikimedia commons license

“Huh, what happened to the White Flint Shopping Mall, that beacon of 1980s consumerism rife with its marble avenues and Cheesecake Factory and Franklin Mints? What is set to replace it?”

Photo by horta5

“I dunno,” I reply, “could it be the future headquarters of a company owned by the richest man in the history of the world?”

“But Surely, if it was arson, don’t you think the paper of record, The Washington Post, that shining light of journalistic integrity, would print something about this kind of thing?”

“My friend, what if I were to tell you that the richest man in the history of the world, who wants to relocate 50,000 of his employees to a now demolished meadow across the street from Hank Dietle’s, is the very same man who owns your precious Washington Post?”

“But why, Surely? None of this makes any sense.”

“Don’t be naive. The guy’s gotta make room for 50,000 employees in an area already besotted with housing shortages and horrifying traffic. And so, perhaps the man burned Hank Dietle’s Roadside Tavern in a brilliant conflagration of orange cinder, all while receiving billions of dollars in tax breaks and blessings from Maryland’s most powerful politicians.”

“Well, those are some interesting points for sure, but I’m not a fire marshal. Wow Surely, maybe you have something there.”

“Thanks Suzie,” I reply.

To be fair, these are just rumors—gossip between old friends, reminiscing about stale beer, local rockabilly, Mitch Glickstein’s new wife, and of course, the frequent under-the-table hand jobs, the number of which, seem to dwindle and fade with each passing year. There’s other talk as well. Rumors of rebuilding. Who knows what will happen? Who cares? Certainly not the newspapers, nor the politicians, and most certainly not the large multi-national corporations and their rich owners. But who cares what I think, anyway? I’m just a sad old man in search of a new place to drink a cold piss beer and mourn all this area stands to lose if we are not careful. Every. Last. Detail.

Every. Last. Dietle.

[placetobenation]

September 10th, 16:00 from Azuma Sports Park, Fukushima

The first of three Destruction shows sees Minoru Suzuki defend his NEVER title against Michael Elgin in a lumberjack match, with the six-man and heavyweight tag titles also on the line. Let’s get to it.

And we’re back! It’s been three weeks since the G1 final and I don’t know about you, but for me it was a welcome break. There’s only so much good wrestling I can take. But seriously, the downtime is smart for wrestlers and viewers alike, and I’m looking forward to these shows over the coming weeks.

With October’s King of Pro-Wrestling already shaping up, it would fair to describe the trio of Destructions as B Shows. They’re effectively one excellent card split into three. That’s not to say they won’t be decent and, in fact, the benefit of this method is that we get to see the likes of Michael Elgin, Zack Sabre Jr. and Juice Robinson in main event spots, titles (every one of which is being defended at least once) are given a brighter spotlight, and young talent is more heavily featured. That said, there is unquestionable some filler here, and with that in mind…

Here we go…

Hirai Kawato & Yuji Nagata vs. Shota Umino & Manabu Nakanishi

Umino looks noticeably bigger than he did during the G1 tour. Perhaps he’s been at Kitamura’s protein shakes. In any case, the veterans briefly went at it before tagging in their young partners, with the slightly more senior Kawato maintaining control while Nagata kept the referee occupied.  A dropkick from Umino enabled the return of a surly Nakanishi, who blocked an Exploder to slap legal man Nagata to the mat. A clothesline earned two, but Kawato flattened him with a springboard dropkick, then Umino returned only to be hit with an Exploder. Nagata cinched in the Nagata Lock II and Umino tapped straight away. Nakanishi can barely move, but Nagata winding him up raised a smile. *1/2

Monster Rage (Katsuya Kitamura & Tomoyuki Oka) vs. CHAOS (YOSHI-HASHI & Hirooki Goto)

I’m very pleased that Kitamura’s fanged gumshield has been retained. He started well against Yoshi, flooring him with a shoulder block and hitting a deadlift gutwrench suplex for two, but the CHAOS boys were soon in control, tagging back-and-forth, with Yoshi’s rope-hung dropkick and a double shoulder block getting two-counts. Kitamura powered Goto into a suplex, however, and Oka was tagged in, with a run of offence culminating in Kitamura’s spear and Oka’s elbow drop. Goto hit back with a clothesline, then applied a Boston Crab, but Oka was able to crawl to the ropes. Goto nailed his praying chest kick immediately after, though, and that was plenty for the three-count. Honestly, if this was your first time watching you’d think Kitamura and Oka were the established stars. **

CHAOS (Beretta & Jado) vs. Bullet Club (Chase Owens & Yujiro Takahashi)

Jado and Owens had an amusing little sequence before Jado landed the chops. He caught a boot to the face from a middle-rope whatever, and a much-delayed Flair Flop was followed by some mocking chops from Owens. A rebound clothesline allowed tags to be made, with Beretta brushing off both opponents before landing a tope con hilo to the floor! Back in, Yujiro crotched him on top and faceplanted him for a two-count, but a desperation tornado DDT brought Jado back in, and a bunch of kicks and a clothesline got two. Yujiro avoided the rope-hung DDT, took care of Beretta, then a fisherman buster followed by the Pimp Juice DDT earned the win. In this week’s Korakuen Hall shows, Yujiro had taken exception to Beretta’s heavyweight ambitions, but you wouldn’t have known it from this match. Another match than simply existed. **

David Finlay & Juice Robinson vs. Bullet Club (Leo Tonga & Bad Luck Fale)

Kenny Omega was supposed to appear here, but he’s taken a few weeks off to let a knee injury heal. He’s still due to defend his US title against Juice in two weeks’ time. In his place is Leo Tonga, the huge son of Haku and brother of the Guerrillas of Destiny. He debuted in Korakuen Hall this past Thursday.

Juice and Fale started off, but the former was caught by his dreads, allowing the big boys of Bullet Club to pummel him and Finlay, and it was quite sweet to watch Fale mentor his monster protege. Juice punched his way free of Tonga, then Fale took an accidental boot to the face and Juice and Finlay clotheslined him to the floor, where Finlay nailed him with a plancha. In the ring, Juice was rescued from Tonga’s chokeslam and Pulp Friction landed to put the giant youngster down for the three-count. You guessed it, this was: just a match. *1/2

Taguchi Japan (Ricochet, Ryusuke Taguchi, KUSHIDA, Togi Makabe & Hiroshi Tanahashi) vs. Suzuki-gun (Taichi, Yoshinobu Kanemaru, El Desperado, TAKA Michinoku & Takashi Iizuka)  

Tanahashi’s short hair is still weird, but Taguchi Japan is a stable that accepts any and all perversions. Suzuki-gun attacked as Taguchi was giving a team talk, but Iizuka was isolated and hit with a continuous train of offence from everyone apart from Taguchi himself, who kept getting kicked in the face. Iizuka then bit Taguchi’s derrière to enable his teammates’ return, and Kushida soon faced-off with El Desperado (next week’s challenger to his title) only to be locked in the Stretch Muffler. Kushida was able to make the tag to Ricochet, who ran wild on everyone with crisp offence, nailing Taka with a standing SSP and Taichi with a 619 and springboard clothesline. Tanahashi was in next, but he was tripped on the apron, and a distraction allowed Taichi to nail him with the ringbell hammer. Iizuka ripped off the taping on his arm and bit his still-injured bicep (psychology!), but Tanahashi hit back with a middle-rope crossbody and made the hot tag to Makabe. A powerslam to Kanemaru was followed by mounted punches to Iizuka, and a clothesline earned two. Taguchi was tagged, and he hit one hip attack before missing a protracted second, then the match broke down, but Taguchi used Taka’s finger poke against him and rolled him up for the win! This was fun, heated and a significant step up from the previous four matches (thankfully). ***

***INTERMISSION***

IWGP Tag Team Championship

War Machine (Hanson & Raymond Rowe) (c) vs. Guerrillas of Destiny (Tama Tonga & Tanga Loa) vs. Killer Elite Squad (Davey Boy Smith Jr. & Lance Archer)

Killer Elite Squad (part of Suzuki-gun) returned at the G1 final show, with Archer now recovered from back surgery and sporting some horrible cornrows. Tanga Loa is also wearing some horrible gear today, but presumably he’s just returned from his Sunday cycling club.

War Machine and KES traded shoulder blocks and slams in the opening exchange, then GOD interjected only for Loa to be hit with the Hart Attack and the fight spilled to the floor. Back in, Hanson was able to score some running clotheslines, but KES double-teamed him to take control and Davey Jr. nailed some kicks, a big boot and a leg drop for two. Hanson eventually fired back with a handspring elbow and seated senton out of the corner and the hot tag was made to Rowe, who exchanged Exploder suplexes with Loa. The Guerrillas took control with some sloppy offence and a double-team Tongan Twist set up the Guerrilla Warfare, but Davey Jr. interrupted and KES hit their Killer Bomb on Loa. Hanson then took them out with a rolling senton from the top-rope and War Machine planted Loa with Fallout to retain the titles.

Six foreigners just doing stuff with little purpose and no flow. At least previous examples of this match type had native teams for the crowd to get invested in. This was rubbish – irritatingly so. *

CHAOS (Will Ospreay & Tomohiro Ishii) vs. Los Ingobernables de Japón (Hiromu Takahashi & Tetsuya Naito)

Naito and Ishii will face each other at King of Pro-Wrestling with Naito’s Wrestle Kingdom title shot on the line. On Twitter, Hiromu said Ospreay was a cat, which the latter initially denied, but like yesterday’s Korakuen Hall show he is wearing rudimentary cat facepaint. Curious.

Ospreay and Hiromu went at it with vigour, with the former taking out both opponents with a springboard dropkick. Ishii was tagged and went straight for Naito, whipping him into the guardrail outside before returning to the ring to take care Hiromu. He became distracted, however, and Hiromu and Naito took advantage by targeting his taped-up right leg. They brushed off strikes and scored a double-team seated dropkick, but the Stone Pitbull scored a delayed vertical suplex to enable the hot tag. Ospreay ran wild, nailing a corner dropkick and standing SSP to Hiromu, but was caught with a belly-to-belly into the turnbuckle and more tags were made. A pissed off Ishii fired away with chops and a powerslam, but Naito hit back with the slingshot corner dropkick and returned to the right leg. A low dropkick and spitwad further pissed off Ishii, and he turned Naito inside-out with a lariat, but the follow-up powerbomb was blocked by Hiromu. Ospreay flew in with a springboard clothesline to Naito and the rebound C4 for a two-count, then the OsCutter missed and Hiromu was back in for a super kick. Ospreay initially blocked Destino, but Hiromu distracted the referee and a low blow from Naito allowed it to connect at the second time of asking for the three-count.

A lively match and a good effort from all four men. The Naito/Ishii and Hiromu/Ospreay interactions were most enjoyable. ***

NEVER Openweight 6-Man Tag Team Championship

Los Ingobernables de Japón (SANADA, EVIL & BUSHI) (c) vs. CHAOS (Rocky Romero, Toru Yano & Kazuchika Okada)

The main issue here is between Okada and Evil, who face off at King of Pro-Wrestling for the IWGP title – a shot earned by Evil’s surprise win in the G1, but Okada also has the opportunity here to win his first-ever non-IWGP title.

CHAOS attacked before the bell, but Romero soon found himself in trouble after LIJ turned the tide effectively. Bushi choked Romero with his t-shirt and Evil’s senton earned a two-count, then Romero managed a jumping knee and flipped out of Evil’s fisherman buster to make the tag to Okada. The champ nailed Evil with a flapjack and locked in Red Ink, but Bushi broke it up and Evil utilised Sanada’s distraction to hit a sidewalk slam. A discus lariat and fisherman buster got two, Sanada was tagged, and Okada blocked his springboard dropkick and countered to a reverse neckbreaker. In came Yano, but Sanada caught him in a rolling cradle! One, two, no. Yano avoided the Paradise Lock, then they exchanged hairpulls before Sanada flattened him with a dropkick. Bushi followed with a missile dropkick, but Yano freed himself to bring in Romero. Bushi pushed him outside and nailed a suicide dive, but back in, Romero connected with Forever Clotheslines and, after the match momentarily broke down, hit Slice Bread #2 for a near-fall. LIJ swarmed and Bushi scored a Codebreaker and the MX only for Okada to break up the count, then Bushi was crotched on the top-rope by Yano, who in turn was tied him up in the ropes with the Paradise Lock. Evil ducked the Rainmaker and hit the STO, then Sanada used the Dragon Sleeper on Romero to set up Bushi’s top-rope MX! One, two, three and the champions retain.

Post-match, Gedo was brought into the ring and put in the Paradise Lock next to the prone Okada. Another good tag match here with plenty of intensity and chemistry between the teams. ***1/4

NEVER Openweight Championship Lumberjack Match

Minoru Suzuki (c) vs. Michael Elgin

This became a lumberjack match on Thursday, because Suzuki said it was and I’m guessing no-one wanted to disagree. And, as Nagata said on commentary, Suzuki-gun would’ve run-in anyway, but now it’s been made official. Suzuki was backed by Kanemaru, Taka, El Desperado and Taichi. Elgin was backed by Tanahashi, Ricochet, Taguchi and Kushida.

Surprisingly, both men decided to wrestling to get us started, with Elgin’s shoulder block sending Suzuki outside and his seconds sending Suzuki straight back in. Suzuki then gave us a demonstration of his own team’s seconding skills, and I think we’re all now familiar with the rules. They exchanged chops, then Elgin’s elbow strikes set up a slingshot splash for two. Elgin delivered a delayed vertical suplex, giving Suzuki-gun the middle finger as he did so, so Suzuki retreated to the floor and the lumberjacks faced off. Back in then back out again, and Suzuki took Elgin into the crowd while the lumberjacks brawled, then cracked him with elbows when they returned to the ring. Elgin was caught in the tarantula armbar, then sent to the floor, where Suzuki’s crew pounced.

Back in, Elgin and Suzuki traded elbow strikes, with Elgin demanding more until he was floored for a two-count. Suzuki smacked Elgin with a chair while the referee was distracted, but Elgin fired up and refused to use the chair, instead making the comeback with a running elbow and slingshot neckbreaker to a rope-hung Suzuki. Deadlift German suplex – two-count only. Front-and-back clotheslines from Elgin connected, but Suzuki blocked a lariat and nailed slaps and a Penalty Kick for two. They slapped and elbowed each other then, and once again a referee distraction brought in the lumberjacks. This time Elgin took care of them, then he planted Suzuki with a Falcon Arrow for a near-fall. Suzuki shielded himself with the referee to bring in Suzuki-gun again, but this time Elgin’s boys actually helped him out, culminating in Elgin tossing Taka onto everyone outside and Ricochet scoring a Sasuke Special. In the ring, Elgin hit a buckle bomb and the Elgin Bomb, but Taichi dragged out the referee and here were Killer Elite Squad followed by War Machine. Once they’d dealt with each other, Iizuka was in to stab Elgin in the throat with his metal mitten and Suzuki spiked Elgin with the Gotch-Style Piledriver! One, two, three.

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen so many run-ins and shenanigans in a match, even with the lumberjack stipulations. The crowd seemed to be into so there’s that. It was a decent enough brawl otherwise, though far from great. I guess I’ll go: ***

Post-match promo from Suzuki and we’re out.

Final thoughts: The weakest New Japan show of the year. The main event was fine (YMMV) and there were three other pretty good matches, but frankly this was a slog and the tag title match was as poor a title match as I can recall seeing. There’s nothing here you need to go out of your way to see. Thankfully, next weekend’s show looks much, much better on paper, so let’s hope this was an aberration.

I’ll be back next Saturday for the unfortunately named Destruction in Hiroshima, which is headlined by Hiroshi Tanahashi vs. Zack Sabre Jr. and KUSHIDA vs. El Desperado. See you then.

[artbeesdesign]

via Total Landscape Care