ICW Show Me Your Lizard Review


Show Me Your Lizard was quite a beautiful saga when ye think about it. A show that sold out over a month in advance without a match announced leaves the company with a bit of a unique perspective, because really, they’re under no obligation to announce anything. So instead of announcing matches to cultivate ticket sales, say nothing. Make it a big surprise. Leave the possibility of the whole thing being a front for an adult orientated Singing Kettle show well and truly open. ICW weren’t quite that bold, but with only 4 matches announced, there wis plenty of scope tae make it a night packed with twists, turns, stauners, heart attacks…mare stauners….probably tears, blood? Aye I reckon there’s gonnae be some blood somewhere, and most importantly of course…hunners ah fuckin wrestling!

We had out obligatory opening gambits from the bold Billy Kirkwood, and his co-presenter of ICW Worldwide Veronica LeStrange, and naebdy gets a party started like Billy. That man has called me a sexy motherfucker on countless occasions now, and it still gets me soakin every time. Nothing can really compare tae the level of satisfaction ye get from knowing that a hairy, tatooed man fae Ayrshire finds ye sexy. So with nipples suitably pointed, and baws with a warm welcoming glow aboot them, we were introduced tae his co-commentator for the evening. The recently retired Jackie Polo. Still favouring the neck injury he picked up fae cunnilingual activities wae yer maw and/or sister, he stood by his retirement announcement and spoke of his future prospects as a top class talent agent, and full time advocate for the wearing of suit jaickets without the accompanying suit troosers..anyway. WRESTLIN!

Kid Fite, Carmel and Liam Thomson huv a right auld barney

Kid Fite appears tae have a wee word with his auld pal Liam Thomson. After years of pallin aboot together, and kickin the living shite outta tag teams across Europe…Fight Club are divided. Torn apart by Thomsons decision to interfere in Kid Fites marvellously entertaining match wae Paul London at Still Smokin. Although Thomsons burd, and ICWs resident promo cutting genius Carmel Jacob has a wee different theory as to why the team were torn apart. She answers Fitos call for Thomson, and presents the idea tae him that the team are split cause Thomson is sick tae the back teeth of seeing Fito whap the baws oot and stick them in another mans mouth, and perhaps Kid Fite wanted the split all along so he finally has an opening to fulfill his unrequited desire to stick his baws in Thomsons gub. As per Carmel delivered her promo wae ferocity, but Fitos no slouch on the mic either. He suggests that since Liam Thomson is naewhere tae be seen, and he’s gettin a bit fatigued with sticking his sack in guys mouths himself, why not try a burd? But before Carmel can get her gums roon his plums, Thomson darts out to make the save. A wee scrap ensued, before security broke it up, but ye’d be daft to think that we’ve seen the last of this feud. Square go in London boays?

The Kennedy Administration emerge tae a rapturous reception next, and when ye look at the sum of their parts, ye think to yersell that ICW have stumbled across a potential goldmine. With one of the best talkers in Scottish Wrestling (and one of the tightest trooser wearing, sunglasses indoors sporting, bit of a sexual deviant looking folk in Scottish Wrestling to go with it ;)) James R.Kennedy as the mouthpiece, and two of the fastest rising stars in the company Joe Hendry and Kenny Williams in the mix, with a spear slingin bear of a bodyguard in the form of Timm Wylie in there anaw, you’ve got a potent mixture of human heroes in yer midst. It’s the Local Hero that gets on the mic next, although he delivers his promo tae the backdrop of a thunderous “Kenneth is the bollocks chant” which yer man rightly laps up. Hendry disnae have much tae say, just that any one of the ICW Title holders backstage needed tae fix up, look sharp, and drag their narra erse out tae that ring tae face him. And one of them duly obliged.

The Sumerian Death Squad vs Joe Hendry and Kenny Williams (ICW Tag Title Match)

Of course, by “one of them”, I mean two fuckin terrfying Dutch wrecking machines. The Sumerian Death Squad gie me the fear, and if they don’t gie you the fear yer either a big unit yersell, or the recent recipient of a lobotomy. Joe Hendry catches the big bruisers off guard with a double clothesline early on, but it’s not long before Tommy End and Dante are dislodging the collective jaw of the Kennedy Administration. A superkick from Tommy End, is followed by a Huricanrana attempt from Williams which was blocked, but turned into a sunset flip for a 2 count. Kenny then indulges in a spot of dodge the Dutchman, as he evades a few attempted leatherings in the corner, only for Tommy End to eventually catch him with a running knee.

Tommy End then proceeds tae deliver some rib shattering kicks, followed by some jabs by big Dante, and finally a brutal scoop slam fae Tommy End. Kenny eventually gets Joe Hendry back in and he enagages in a stoatin exchange with Tommy End, where he slung a few lariats at him, before hitting a DDT. Followed that up with his finisher, a Fallaway Slam he cries “The Freak Of Nature” but it disnae get the job done, and the SDS had just about enough of these shenangians. Nae mare singing yer ain name, nae mare Kenneth is the bollocks, all that exists is one of the best tag teams in Europe hittin ye wae not one, not two but fuckin three of the most brutal double team moves yer ever likely tae see. It’s the speed they put it together in that bends my mind though, pretty much impossible tae keep up with the specifics, as they fling human beings aboot like empty suitcases. The final one involved Kenny Williams being chucked tae the upper tier of the Garage, before hurtling back down to earth, straight intae a powerslam. Job done. The SDS retain in what was a stoater of an opener.

The fun didnae stop there though, as Damo came fee-fi-fo-fumming oot tae have a word with The Kennedy Administration. The big yin’s got unifinished business wae that team, and he smells the blood of a bunch of fannies. Despite a spear from Timm Wylie, the big yin is not to be toppled and eventually clears Kennedy and his troops out. As much as I enjoy this wee stable, Damian O’Connor is undoubteldy gonnae kill them off one by one, so enjoy it while ye can.

James Scott vs Joe Coffey

I’ve heard patter about folk being bored during this fae a few folk, before eventually coming round and loving, and I cannae really fathom that. Even if this kind of technically proficient match steeped in captivating storytelling isnae your thing, ye need tae respect the craft surely? I’m personally no overly intae the hardcore stuff, but when its done right, there’s nae denying its great tae watch, so the same surely has to apply tae stuff like this? Anyway, for me it was just the latest instalment in the best wrestling feud I’ve had the pleasure of seeing since starting to attend ICW shows nearly 2 years ago now. This wasnt quite as good as their 30 minute Iron Man epic at the Square Go, but thats only because that match had 10 extra minutes of this brawness. This yin was unfortunately capped at a 20 minute time limit, but the boys made sure tae sook every bit of potential goodness out of their allotted time.

We started off with a tie-up, and some stiff uppercuts from Joe took the action out tae the newly installed ramp. ICW went got a titantron, and it certainly added an interesting extra element to proceedings. A suplex attempt on the ramp is blocked, and we make our way back intae the ring for another round of stinging chops and uppercuts. Coffey hs an early go for the swings, but Scott is wise tae it. Then we had a magnificently mockit wee spot on the ropes, as James Scott appears tae hook the roof of Joes gub with his fingers, then lick those very same fingers like he’d just been wrist deep in Scarlett Johansson, strummin her like an acoustic guitar. He followed up that disgusting shit, with a beautiful belly to belly suplex throw, before nearly decapitating Joe with a big boot tae the face.
Joe recovers to have a second attempt at the swings, this time locking them in for 5 spins, before settling intae the Boston Crab, but Scott manages to escape.

Throughout this feud, Scott has had this unerring habit of getting Joe in various chokeholds, and on this occasion he had the big yin in what looked like the Gogoplata (Undertaker cries it Hells Gate) and the Iron Man looked on the verge of passing out, but he battled out valiantly. With a head of steam, and baws brimmin wae testosterone, Joe starts slinging thunderous uppercut after thunderous uppercut. As Scott settles in the corner for a breather, he gets his wae a couple of picture perfect splashes, and a bulldog for good measure. Might aswell chuck a Gutwrench Suplex intae the mix anaw eh? Why the fuck not. That wis the perfect segway into the second installment of the swings, only this time Scott was facing the mat. It seemed to be a more fluid motion than the usual way, so I reckon its something we could see regularly in the future. It was followed by a spinning lariat with the time ticking down, but Scott somehow got a shoulder up, and with the time slowly ticking down, with the combatants exchanging hard strikes to the jaw, the bell was rung. Another masterclass in the books, giving us our first draw between the two meaning surely we couldn’t be done yet?

Joe Coffey wasn’t content with that outcome anyway, as he paced around the ring, mic in hand, racking his his Khal Drogo-esque dome for a solution. The one he came up wae was that they go again. One more time. 60 minute Iron Man match tae settle this once and for all, and my heart skipped a beat. Wis it finally gonnae happen? The match we’ve all been gantin tae see since these two first locked horns finally coming to fruition? There’s some chat that 60 minutes might bore some folk, but tae those folk I say this…s’the matter wae yees? Are ye unwell? I get that folk aw like different things when it comes to wrestling and thats fine, but if a 60 minute Iron Man match between Joe Coffey and James Scott wis ever to come to fruition, it should be observed wae the impeccable decorum of a night at the opera or somethin. Infact aye. Dedicate one show tae just James Scott and Joe Coffey huvin a 3 hour Iron Man match, and we’ve aw tae wear our best evening-wear tae it. Call it “ICW – Champagne, Suplexes and Good Manners”  and have it at the Concert Hall. After party in a local cigar club, where tasteful strippers only strip doon tae the bra n kecks. Nae Class As till after 2am. Fuck am I gibbering about here? Aye, well the dream died in spectacular fashion as James Scott declines that invitation, to reveal that he seemingly legitimately had to retire. He had a third back surgery scheduled and that was gonnae bring an end to his career in terms of in-ring competition. That evoked a somewhat positive response fae the fans, most probably assuming he was at it, but his emotional reaction tae that was what really hooked folk in. We all believed it, and in some ways, I reckon Joe Coffey probably bought in anaw, as James Scott spoke of his respect and love for Joe, before disappearing up the ramp wiping a tear fae his eye. Ye’ll be missed James ma man. Forever the greatest suplex slingin, choke holdin, double foot stompin cunt in ICW history. Forever a WINNNAR!

The NAK vs Jimmy Havoc, Wolfgang and The Bucky Boys

In terms of a pure wrestling exhibition Scott vs Coffey was the match of the night, but if yer talking pure entertainment. This stole the show. Even before “it” happened, it was getting the job done purely cause ye couldnae take yer eyes aff it. We get some patter fae The Wee Man tae kick things off, introducing his merry band of baw kickers, which included the return of the aptly named “Batman of batshit crazy” tae ICW, Jimmy fuckin Havoc. Ye know a match is gonnae be fuckin chaos when it kicks off wae a suicide dive, and thats exactly how BT Gunn got this one going, putting an end to The Wee Mans patter clinic. That results in a mad stramash on the outside, but Stevie and BT snuck back in tae have a bit more of an organised stramash of their ain. Leapfrogs and flips galore, are followed by Stevie gettin BT up intae the firemans carry position, but BT wriggled out. Davie snuck back in just in time tae catch a patented BT Gunn chop, and I swear tae fuck, that must be like gettin branded wae a cattle prod or suhin. The noise that echoes round the building when he connects wae they chops always makes me wince. Same face I made when Judy Finnigans tit slipped oot that time when I wis innocently watchin some tele awards hing back in the day (cept I didnae immediately start wanking furiously on this occasion)

The Buckys hit back wae the 3D outta nowhere, but BT rolls out tae safety. Davie goes for a top rope legdrop wae Divers hanging on the middle rope, but Divers dodges that and hits a senton, followed by an absolute peach of a German Suplex. It wis the fuckin Dickie Divers show early on tbh, and I wis intae it. Used Renfrew as a springboard for another Senton after, but the boays got a bit cocky, and didnae see Wolfgang sneak back in tae hit them wae a double clothesline. Wolfy slings Renfew to opposing corners with hard irish whips, ending wae that splash in the corner he does when he rolls out tae the apron and goes straight up top, but Renfrew’s wise tae it, and catches him up top for a go at the Stoner. Wolfys no huvin that, brushing him off and instead hitting a fuckin brutal looking cross body on tae Renfrews back. Renfrew took a backdrop on a fuckin pavement a few months ago, but this shit looked twice as sare. Imagine ye were bent over tying yer shoe, and a Wooly Mammoth fell oot the sky, landing directly on yer back. That wis similiar tae whit Renfrew went through here

That led tae another baw tingler of a battle between BT and Wolfy. This time battling it out wae jabs, slaps and an eardrum shattering chop apiece. Wolfys chop might have been delivered wae even more authority than BTs this time, as he slid tae the outside tae assess the damage. Wolfy teases gaun for a dive, but he gets caught mid flow by a beauty of a clothesline fae Renfew. Divers checks in and decides tae get a bit cocky wae Wolfgang. Never a wise move, Wolfgang hiptosses cunts that gie it that patter…it well known. Next we had Stevie back in there tae deliver a leg sweep and a fuckin inch perfect standing shooting star press, before him and Davie combined wae a rolling senton/middle rope leg drop combination. There wis chat of a Jimmy Havoc heel turn before this match, wae Havoc aligning himself wae the NAK, and as the match wore on, it seemed that naebdy wanted tae be Jimmys pal. He wis gettin ignored for tags, and gettin his quiff in a twist about it as a “Havocs gonnae turn” chant started circulating. Even if there wisnae a planned turn on the cards, mibbe Havoc was considering taking it upon himself and daein it anyway but he finally did get tagged in, and he took all 3 NAK members oot within about 10 seconds. Spinning forearm for divers, followed by a superkick tae Renfrew, and a chair flung directly at BT Gunns front teeth. If Havoc wis joining the NAK here, he wis daein a number on the collective jaw of his new comrades, as he continued tae sling that chair about wae reckless abandon. Havoc then seemed tae vanish intae fuckin thin air, which made ye think that he wis gonnae turn eventually, but I’ll save ye the suspense. He didnae.

HE didnae.

Wolfgang on the other hand? Well he didnae either, but he did take a superkick tae the chops off BT Gunn, before BT came off the top rope and got caught wae a stoater of a powerslam. Everycunt got a shot of daein a finisher after that, wae Renfrew sneaking in and hitting the stoner, before Chris became seperate fae his Renfrews (his Renfews are his baws btw, but ye probably knew that cause I’ve made this fuckin joke about a million times noo) when Davie haufed him in 2 wae a spear, Divers hit yon pumphandle suplex (I’m probably no calling that right btw, but its good, if anycunt knows the right name for it gies a shout) and then that fuckin mesmerizing thing happened that naecunt could quite believe, that fuckin breathtaking jaw dropping show stealing moment, aye that’s right….Stevie Boy hit the Canadian Destroyer! A moment not tae be topped. Probably the greatest moment in ICW history actually, think I’m exagerrating? Well aye. Ye’d be right. Cause right after it one of the legit best moments in ICW history happened as the lights went low, and the NAKs music played. If the NAKs music is playing, and all 3 NAK members are in the middle of a match, how many new NAK members does it take tae change a lightbulb? Naw wait, thats the wrang riddle. Infact we’ll sack it entirely. Lightbulbs are the opposite of whit we’re lookin for here. We were looking for Havoc. We we’re looking for suhin special. We were looking for darkness. Or a dark something anyway….dark chocolate gateaux? Naw thats no it. GOT IT!

It wis a darkside.

A mystery hooded figure appears tae plant Stevie boy on his heid, and all 3 NAK members piled on tae get the pin. The hooded figure remained in a crouched stance, hiding his face fae view but kinda adopting a Prince Devitt stance. Making ye think it wis either the recently AWOL Jimmy Havoc OR the Prince himself that wis the newest member fot the Kliq, but guys…it wis neither.

It wis a darkside.

It wis…fuckin DARKSIDE.

Cause James Scott might be gone, but there’s a forgotten soul that used tae be known as Darkside that’s still alive and well in him. The hood comes aff and its none other than the man himself. The recently retired James Scott. He fuckin got us. Hook, line and sinker, in perhaps the best retirement swerve I’ve ever seen in wrestling (and Mark Henry wis responsible for a beezer himself just last year) He gets on the mic and confirms that James Scott is retired, but the NAK has its Darkside. I’ve never seen the Darkside gimmick in action tbh, but it saw Scott win 2 ICW titles, and it would be aligning itself with another former 2 time champ in BT Gunn, the current number one contender Chris Renfrew, and the most naturally hate-able heel in Scottish Wrestling Dickie Divers tae form the maist frightening faction in the civilised world. Fuck yer Nation of Domination, fuck the Lannisters and aw their sister shaggin shenanigans, fuck UKIP, and fuck the No Limit Soldiers. The NAK are for real. The NAK are the new danger. They proceed tae knock the living fuck outta The Buckys and Wolfgang. Wolfgang even having a rope tied roon his neck and hung for a bit, before The Wee Man catches some Killer Boots (yon double team double stomp the NAK use) with Darkside insisting that he be the one tae dislodge The Wee Mans jaw. Stevie caught a double underhook piledriver aff Renfrew anaw, and one of the most memorable moments I’ve seen in ICW wis complete. Of aw the folk tae join up, I’d have had James Scott well doon the list of names. Perhaps only Wolfgang himself being less likely, so it wis the perfect swerve. Fuckin delicious. Impeccable. Worth the ticket price alone. Is that enough words about it? I don’t think any amount could ever dae it justice, but we sure as fuck gave it a go.

Half time. That wis only fuckin half time. How?

David The Beloved attempts to absolve Christopher Saynt of his sins

I’ll no lie, I didnae hear about half of this, but the jist of it is essentially that David The Beloved isnae a big fan of yer homosexuals. Christopher Saynt couldnae really give a shite what he thinks though, as he refers to himself as a “Gaythiest” and proceeds tae rip the pish out the beloved for a bit. He isnae best pleased wae that, and attacks Saynt from behind before security get in tae break it up. David The Beloved officially dropped the accent anaw I’m sure, so he’ll be a weegie bible basher fae here on out.

Mark Coffey vs Noam Dar

Smashin. Thought these two had brilliant chemistry when they locked horns in November, so why not go again eh? Well there’s a few reasons that they might not go again. Maybe an injury in the warmup? Dar slingin the Khali heid chops n dick punches wae too much force and bursting a blood vessel…or maybe…eh…


Mark Coffey vs Noam Dar vs Prince Devitt (c) (ICW Zero G Title Match)

Oot he fuckin came. Bold as brass. Painted up like fuckin Darth Maul anaw, because Fergal Devitt is the greatest man on the planet. Not just the greatest wrestler. Naw. The greatest man. The maist perfect living human there is. I’m no saying I fancy him or that. I’m straight mate. Love the lassies and aw the lumpy bits that come wae them, but aye. Fergal Devitt would get pumped. His presence didnae reduce me tae the floor this time, but I’m fairly certain I wept on ma pals shoulder for a wee while. Surprise Devitt is it. The one. If ye could legally marry a moment in time, I’d be drawin up the paperwork right now tae have me bonded in holy matrimony wae the art of the Surprise Devitt. Anyway, he wis in a wrasslin match anaw, so lets get tae some patter about that and its infinite brawness.

This match was the one I hoped Devitt would be involved in if he wis booked, so a pool of saliva wis forming in the space around me that must have been at least uptae ankle height, as the boays started slinging chops wae reckless abandon. Devitt then hit a double stomp across Coffeys back, before Noam Dar got his opponents on opposite sides of the ring on the apron. Delivering stinging kicks tae them both, before hitting either a baseball slide, suicide dive, or flying Khali heid chop. I cannae mind whit. All 3 men found themselves in a Figure 4 type situation after that, so we’ll cry it the Figure 6 shall we? Figure 6 comes tae an end, and Coffey starts battering Devitt wae forearms and Chops, with the same coming back in return. Devitt hit a spinning suplex after that, before Coffey broke out that picturesque deadlift bridging backdrop he does for a 2 count on Noam Dar. Goes for the Pumphandle Slam on Devitt tae sneak the win early on but Devitt blocked it, and hit the double stomp aff the top tae come within a bawhair of retaining. Dar gets back intae the mix with an enziguri.

It comes down tae Devitt and Coffey though, with Coffey seemingly hell-bent on avenging his defeat at Still Smokin. Gie Coffey his due, no many folk are faced wae the daunting prospect of facing one of the best wrestlers in the world without huvin time tae prepare. I mean ye must got through a different stretching routine for Devitt eh? I’d probably stop eatin crisps that week anaw. Ye just need tae take it a wee bit more seriously. Coffey wis all business in this yin though, hitting Devitt wae a belter of a lariat, before having another attempt at the Pumphandle Slam blocked. Devitt goes for Bloody Sunday but thats blocked anaw, and its third time lucky for the Pumphandle Slam for Coffey, tae become the NEWWWWWWWWWW Zero-G Champion.

Delighted tae see Mark Coffey back wae the belt, as he’s been one of the most consistent performers in the company for well over a year now, but yer just hoping this isnae the end for Devitt and ICW. It seems that ICW has a special place in his heart, and for the man that’s literally booked fuckin everywhere that can afford him, thats nae mean feat. “Please come back” chants echoed roon the Garage as the blueprint for human…eh…existence? made his way backstage. Hopefully no for good.

So after gettin our fill of Khali heid chops, dick punches, title changes and Darth Maul Surprise Devitt, we had us a wee impromptu match, as Jackie Polo jumps oot fae his commentary position tae speak about his client Mark Coffeys recent success. He’s interrupted by the opponent Coffey was originally supposed tae face at Still Smokin, Possils palest Mexican, the one and only Solar. Solar isnae buying the Jackie Polo neck injury and wanted tae take out some of his frustrations on bold yin, and all of a sudden we had a ref, a bell that had recently been rung, and well…a wrestling match I assume.

Jackie Polo vs Solar

Aye it wis indeed. A wrestling match. An excellent one at that, even though it wis a bit short. Solar sets the pace early wae a missile dropkick, before getting Polo in the corner, stompin a mudhole in uhm, and walkin it dry. Follows that up wae a beautiful headscissors takedown, before getting Polo on the outside and hitting a moonsault aff the apron intae the crowd. It aw seemed tae be going swimmingly for Solar in his long awaited return tae the ICW fold, but his joyful exuberance wis short lived. Remember Jackie Polo’s a genius eh? He knows whit its aw aboot. Catches Solar off the top rope and delivers a thunderous Shoulderbreaker, before sealing the win wae the Polo Plex.

Jackie wisnae done there though, seemingly affronted at Solars attempts tae exacerbate his already serious neck injury, he gets on the mic and makes light of Lionhearts injury of a similar nature. Seems tae be insinuating that it’s no as serious as he makes out. Its perfect heel patter once again, and seems tae indicate that assuming Hearto can make a full recovery, that we will see that match one day, and ye cannae no be intae that prospect. Hearto making his grand return at some point next year tae answer an open challenge or suhin, but until then, Polo wis gonnae prove a point. Since his career is over, he wis gonnae take wee Solar down with him as he sets him up for…naw….it cannae be. Aye it fuckin wis. He had Solar in position for the fuckin Styles Clash (the move which led to Lionhearts neck break incase yer no aware) but thankfully before he could deliver it, we were treated tae a wee dose of Sweeney. Oot the bold yin comes to save the day, and possibly Solars life, and then quite bizarrely he seemed tae be intent on whipping his wang oot and eh…well there’s nae other way tae put this really is there? He wis gonnae pee on uhm. Polo manages tae escape before Sweeney can get the beast oot its cage though and he lives tae fight another day. With his freshly cropped hairdo remaining urine free.

So I spose we’ll huv a wee title match eh? Why the fuck not. We’ve had everything else. Lets see the peoples wanker try tae recapture that belt he wore wae such heeling aplomb, before being dethroned by Mikey Whiplash a year ago. Red Lightning is back, and ready tae show ye his…eh….singlet.

Jack Jester vs Red Lightning (ICW Title Match)

ICW have had a few provocative names for shows in the past, but rarely does a show name actually become reality. That probably isnae a bad thing when it comes tae names like “Get Yer Rat Out” depending on the bearer of the rat, but with “Show Me Your Lizard” ye were hoping if they’re gonnae show us a lizard, it would actually be a lizard, and thankfully that wis the case as Jester came stoatin out with his pal the lizard. I dont know his name, but he seemed a friendly chap, and lapped up the ovation him and Jester got fae the crowd, before being safely tucked away backstage wae a hauf bottle of Midouri and 10 deck of Silk Cut Smooth. Red Lightning emerged before that though, and he got a smashin wee pop aswell. Love or hate Red, I think he’s respected by pretty much everyone for his in ring proficiency and unerring quality on the mic. A wrestling match broke out and it wis a slow burner early on, as Red made use of every single bit of his experience tae duck and dive Jesters attacks. The early standoff is brought to an end with a pair of shoulderblocks from Jester. The second one coming aff the middle rope and taking Red tae the ground. Red got a foothold in the match wae some savvy work on the mat, culminating in a pair of leg drops, before the action mad its way tae the outside, aw the way tae the balcony where Red managed tae fight off Jesters attempt tae turn him intae Red Roadkill by tossing him back down tae the lower tier. We’ve seen a few folk launch themselves, or be launched from that balcony, but wae the greatest of respects tae Red, he isnae really the type that ye’d imagine landing safely in such a situation, so we’d aw have probably been pickin up bits of his clavicle as souvenirs.

They got tae battling on the ramp, as Jester emerged wae the barbed wire bat, but Red managed tae evade that attempted chibbing. He eventually takes a sare dunt though, in the form of a backdrop on the ramp, before we had us that classic standoff; the kind ye see in auld westerns as one combatant stands wae a barbed wire bat in hand, and the other stands wae a steel chair. Ye know that wan. A classic. They duelled for a while, with neither really getting the upper hand for good, but it wis Jester who got firmly intae the ascendency when he hit that Sheamus cheat beating spot on the apron. I dunno why, but that spot makes me irrationally fuckin angry at life, but listen, Jester utilised it well and..nah I cannae, I fuckin hate it an everything it stands for. I dunno if im suppressing some kinda recollection of childhood bullying when I skelped stupid while tied up in the school gates, but I fuckin hate that spot. Red didnae seem too fond of it either, and the retaliation came in the form of a Michinoku Driver for a 2 count. Jester hits back wae a clothesline in the corner, followed by a running bulldog, but Red reverts tae his auld ways, the ways that served him so well as champ, as he gets his hand on the brand spanking new ICW Belt, and laid Jester flat out wae it. Surely he had it?

The belt tae the chin had never failed tae deliver before, but on this occasion it only brought a 2 count. If that wisnae gettin it done, and the Michinoku Driver didnae get it done either, whit the fuck else wis there? Red resorted tae something that I’m no sure I’ve ever seen fae him, as he made the ascent tae the top rope for some reason. Thats no yer thing Red mate. Michinoku Drivers, slickness and sleekitness. Stick tae whit ye know. Jester grabbed Red off the top rope as he wis looking tae get his bearings and delivered a devasting tombstone tae retain. Jester offers his hand tae Red in mutual respect, but Red declined. Forever a fuckin heel. 

Brilliant tae see Red Lightning back in an ICW main event though. Hopefully there’s a lot more tae come for the peoples wanker, but there wis still seemingly more tae come from this show, as Jimmy Havoc emerged (still decidedly unturned) tae have a wee word wae us. The Havoc’s not for turning though, and instead he extends a challenge tae Jack Jester for next weeks show in London. It’s been far too long since these two unhinged bastards knocked fuck out each other, so lets dae it down south. Lets dae it for the belt. Lets dae it till death do us part. Jester came back out and spoke of his respect for oor Jimmy, before accepting the challenge and the match is set. Jester vs Havoc. Deathmatch. ICW Title. If yer in the London area and ye see a pool of blood that looks like it might have had humans dragged through it at somepoint, ye’ll know who tae blame.

If yer a cunt that likes tae dwell on whit ye dont get in life, then ye might be inclined tae lament the lack of Mikey Whiplash, Grado, Kay Lee Ray, Bete Noire, Viper, Nikki Storm, Lewis Girvan, Chris Conscience, Sabu or even Eddie Sideburns on the card (Sideburns revealed tae me exclusively that his omission fae reffing duties wis down tae him breaking his knuckles in the midst of saving an auld wuman fae gettin mugged, but I think its a cover for some kinda RSI fae chuggin too much) but if ye prefer yer wrestling tae have a bit of a Darkside, then this show was well and truly for you. We were also told at some point in the evening that ICW would be returning tae Glasgow in July for a show dubbed Shugs Hoose Party at the ABC. Get yer tickets for that quick, or save having tae sell yer kidney for one in the future when they inevitably sell oot.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend. James Scott is dead. The NAK has its Darkside.


3 thoughts on “ICW Show Me Your Lizard Review

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