PWE Fallen Angel Review

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The show was called Fallen Angel. A smart name for the show considering its the moniker of the import who appeared. It lets folk know he’s there. Intrigues them. “Oh I know him, I’ll get a ticket tae go see that” they cry. It made sense to call the show that, just like calling the last show “Gradomania” made sense, cause he was the focal point. Local boy gets his big moment. The show was centered around him. The main difference between calling that show Gradomania and calling this one Fallen Angel, is that this show wasn’t centered around Christopher Daniels. As brilliant and classy as he predictably was, this wasn’t his show. He didnae come of age here. He didnae dazzle the same audience in totally different ways TWICE. Nah. That wasn’t him. That was the feat achieved by a man who was nothing but a mare tadpole in his auld Da’s sack when Christopher Daniels started his wrestling career. A man who I admire as much as yer allowed to admire someone who is depressingly 4 years younger than ye. That man is Noam ‘fuckin Dar, and Noam Dar proved once and for all that he isnae “the future” He’s the past, present, future and the king of the afterlife. He’s yer mammy, daddy, aw yer mad uncles and cousins. He is the one and only. Nobody he’d rather be. Noam is the bollocks. Noam likes tae beat his chest and scream “NO-AM MERCY” Noam Dar is the REEEEAL ICW Champ, and Scotlands BEEEEEST wrestler. Noam ‘fuckin Dar thinks this card is subject tae change. WE’RE HAVIN A PARTY WHEN NO-AM WINS. Ye get the fuckin picture eh? Point is. Noam came out and scorched it. Twice. First half main event, second half main event. Whitever. He gave us everything. Scored in stoppage time in baith halves. So this show might have been a bit of a Christopher Daniels showcase and that. but make no mistake. Its nae mystery who’s name was on everyone lips when it was all said and done. There’s nae reason for him tae stand alone. He heard us all his name, and it felt like….

Noam.

(see what I did there aye? using other folks slogans n that…cool…ON WAE THE WRASSLIN SHOW!)

Firstly and foremost-ly, yer man Adrain “Lionheart” Mccallum made his way to the ring to inform us of some things. First of all, the tag belts he ordered ages ago didnae appear, so the match later in the card would be a beltless affair, and second of all, he had nae MC. So he was either doing it himself, or we were all to guess who was wrestling and what stipulations the matches had. OR we could have Mad Man Manson do it. In a vest, LA Lakers shorts, and of course. A tie. Cause Mad Manson is all about looking fresh, and fancy free. Still nae belts, but at least we had an MC eh.

Joey Hayes vs El Ligero vs Kenny Williams

Joey Hayes has a rare skill for sleekitness it would appear. In all three matches I’ve seen him in at PWE shows, there’s always been some kind of underhand tomfoolery at play. Steel Chair based and chasies based shenanigans with Wolfgang, and the various effective evasion tactics he employed here adding to the legend of Joey the sleekit. Kenny Williams was the perfect addition to an already stellar high flying exhibition, with the crowd receiving him warmly, as seems to be the case anywhere the cunt goes. Maybe its cause his hairdo is a wee bit like Cameron Diaz’s was in that film, I dunno if his gel has that extra pasty mangrip, but There’s Something About Kenny.

Ligero kicked this belter off with a hurricanrana, before Kenny familiarised the crowd with his special brand of flippy, jumpy shit. Reeling off a flying cclothesline and that springboard sare elbow he dishes out, often with reckless abandon. Ligero once again had the floor, dishing out kicks and forearms, before him and Kenny linked up to hit a double suplex on Hayes. Clearly thinking the some of their flippy parts, might be enough to derail the sleekit one, they were managing to keep Hayes relatively quiet in an offensive sense. Finally they saw fit to engage in hand to hand combat with each other, wae Kenny taking a dropkick off the apron from Ligero. It was all very exciting troops. I’ll no lie to ye. Hayes got Ligero isolated for a bit, knee’ing his guts tae smithereens, before Kenny got back in the mix with a dose of suicide dive. Before Hayes gained the upper hand with a beautiful catch intae a sitout slam. Fuckin generic patter that is though. There’s nae upper hand in a triple threat match is there? Too many hands involved for any of them tae be up anything. Everyone had a shot of kicking everyone in the face, before Ligero laid our Kenny out with a Pumphandle Slam looking situation. Everyone was performing exemplary wrasslin troops. Thats about all I can tell ye. Hayes had Ligero in a Crossface that was tantamount tae a deathgrip, but Kenny broke it up with a dropkick, before some utterly frenetic stuff, including a double stomp to the back, led to Kenny hitting the Tornado DDT on Ligero, only for Hayes to steal the win. Attesting to his every growing reputation for seamlessly mixing good wrasslin, with adept sleekitness. 

The NAK vs Martin Kirby and Lou King Sharp (PWE Tag Title Match)

Aw fuck. The NAK had a different sort of menace about them in PWE than they do in ICW. At least that whit I thought anyway, until they actually vowed tae fuckin kill Lou King Sharp, but until then they were homicidal, more New Age Outlaws type of cunts. Still villians. Still bad bastards, but with an air of fun about them. Then they vowed tae kill Lou King Sharp mate. Did I mention that? They had a list of demands, and if those demands were not met, Loud King Sharp was doomed to die. That shit is fuckin scary. Particularly in Lou’s case, cause as undoubtedly game as the Sharp yin is, he’s toaty. If Chris Renfrew and BT Gunn see fit tae end his life, unless he gets a healthy head start, there’s a fair chance he’s gonnae wind up with an incurable case of deadness. He bravely put himself in the firing line in the first place anaw, with Martin Kirby all set to take on The NAK on his own, special guest ring announcer Mad Man Manson was all set to call for the bell on a handicap match for non existent belts, but Sharp provided timely hauners to give Kirby an ally, and give us a match that would at least ensure the first time tag champions were crowned in a proper tag team match, before bouncing doon the Ayr Town Center, dry riding their air plated belts, and making random passengers take belt bumps on the train hame. Listen though, wrestling match and that eh, and it was pretty fuckin good.

Martin Kirby and BT Gunn locked horns first, in the type of exchange that really should be happening a lot more frequently, shoulderblocks and allsorts before him and Sharp linked up for a double suplex that Lou didnae really put his back into. Sharp reeled off some jabs on the ropes on BT Gunn, an act of striking that would be returned in kind, wae fuckin bells on when the BT Gunn chop procession kicked aff. Guys there wis a chop where Renfrew slingshotted Lou King Sharp towards BT, then he chopped him lungs clean oot mate. Swear down. Imagine someone slapping yer chest so hard, the end result is you knowing what yer lungs taste like. Does that mean Lou King Sharp’s arse has taste buds? I’ve no really pondered the logistics if i’m being honest wae ye, I just write things about wrestling. The NAK got their cohesive work in full flow, Renfrew dropping about 50 elbow drops on Sharp, before getting BT in for the snapmare, dropkick combination that BT always finishes off with a high pitched scream. Something yer man Lou King Sharp seems to be emulating, which I’m sure is meant as a compliment tae BT, but might have been part of the motivation for the bold yin chopping the utter life out the poor soul. Renfrew continued the destruction wae greetings from silent hill (thats the heid remover he calls a lariat btw, in case anyone iisn’tfully familiar wae its proper badass name yet…i dont even play Silent Hill, but thats just a cool thing tae call a big bastardin lariat really int it) a backbreaker, before Sharp took the big yin aff his feet with a beauty of a droptoehold. Some roly polys, a dropkick and a flying Sharp had yer maws favourite grappler in amongst it like a tramp drinkin Pulse oot a shoe, before his rally was brought to a shuddering, and fuckin sare halt when his bulldog attempt was turned intae a belter of a back suplex. Chops procession was in session after that, with some bog standard chops actually making Lou King Sharp’s soul leave his body, before that aforementioned slingshot chop finishing him off for good. Sharp gently eased back on to Renfrews knees after the slingshot chop, probably slowly bleeding internally, heading for certain death, and whatever was left of his battered abdomen was destroyed when yer man BT jumped on him with a senton. Sharp continued to prove that he who looks, smells and is declared legally deid, isnae always actually deid though, as he took both Renfrew and BT aff their feet with a double ddt, leading to Martin Kirby getting back in with the WORLD HOATTEST TAG.

Clotheslines, superkicks, enziguri’s…yon thing where he makes his opponents STOP then scrambles their brains with the super atomic kick to the back of the dome. He even performed a fuckin chokeslam on BT Gunn, which was by quite a distance the strangest thing I’ve seen in wrestling in a long time. Mate. Yer cracking and all that, and I know there isnae any strict rules against it, but wee guys cannae dae chokeslams. Thats just silliness. It gave his less experienced tag partner some over ambitious and in all honesty quite fuckin stupid ideas, as he got himself in an decided he was gonnae chokeslam Chris Renfrew. A man who has undoubtedly had post kebab shites bigger than the bold Lou King Sharp. Big time clothesline. Some Killer Boots man! And The NAK became your first ever PWE Tag Team Champions.

The NAK are no longer mere wrestlers on a wrestling show these days though. These cunts changed the game. They insert themselves on cards they’re no even booked on mate. Imagine somecunt tried that shit at the garden. WWE LIVE, and theres The Blue Meanie jumping on the card and giving himself title shots n shit. Nah. Its unfathomable, cause naecunt could take The Blue Meanie seriously, and also I’m fairly certain he literally jobbed himself intae an early grave (how the fuck this has got intae a Blue Meanie comparison I don’t know, I’m gonnae get aff this and move the fuck on) but The NAK dae it, and it sticks. They hold a different sort of weight, cause they’re a different sort of unit, and not only did they inject themselves intae the match in the first place, but after emerging triumphant they had a POST match demands. A hostage situation of sorts on the go, as Chris Renfrew chillingly told Lionheart, that if he didnae officially declare them Tag Tea Champions, and assure them they had a regular spot on the roster LOU KING SHARP DIES TONIGHT. As his precious wee dome wae gently eased in tae a steel chair, and BT Gunn took his place on his perch up top, the guillotine was set, and the only way the good people of Ayrshire were gonnae get to go home without seeing a beheading was if Lionheart called it off. Be a hearo Hearto. Get on that mic and declare The Kliq part of the Elite family. He was reluctant, but decided to save the kid after all, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. We all like Lou King Sharp eh? Charismatic, talented in the ring, and can take a doing wae the best of them. He’s got a big future ahead in wrestling if he sticks in, but with that being said, Renfrew tells Hearto he should never have had to ask in the first place and suddenly the fatal chimes of Killer Boots were heard once more as Renfrew gave Booty the green light to slay Lou King Sharp. Goodnight sweet prince. You had so much left tae offer. With Renfews emphatic words of “THIS IS WHAT WE DO!” ringing in everycunts ears, we moved on wae the show.

Gonnae use a bit of creative license n aw that, I usually do the rundown of the show in the order it happened, but since Noam’s contribution to the evening was a bit unique, I’m gonnae write about his two matches back tae back. Unorthodox? Sure. Does anycunt care? Probably not. And yer spot on there. This shit is some boring nonsense. Its fuck all but filler meht. Lets move on together. Cause we’re better together so we are. Say YES! to more wrestling patter. Say AYE! to a bunch of huge dudes leathering each other. Say YES! to the second half of the show.

Damo vs Dave Mastiff vs Iestyn Rees vs Wolfgang

Always found something a bit off about these matches having tags, purely cause I’m a bit dense and I can never shake that internal niggling suspicion that it might be a tag match. I know it isnae like. I know its 4 men against each other, but its two in the ring at any given time, meaning there’s tags, but why? Why is there tags? Its nae DQ anyway, so everycunt get in there and get smashin every other cunt. We had a quick change of lineup anaw, as Johnny Moss went down with a very serious late flexing injury. Too many midnight bicep crunches and monster truck deadlifts for the scary big bastard, but he was replaced with an equally daunting unit, as yer favourite goatee’d splash slinger fae the East End Wolfgang took his place. Making sure that our lineup remained chock full of intimidating bruisers.

We saw the debut of an incredible physical specimen known as Iestyn Rees, and a bit of a breakdown from a former champ as Dave Mastiff cut a brilliantly heartfelt promo post match, but there was also hunners of good shit in between. Damo coming in hoat, flooring some of his fellow big bruisers with some lariats. Iestyn and Wolfgang has some tension early on, with tags being exchange via cheeky slaps. Iestyn Rees made an impression early on, not as a particularly likeable fella either, he just has a presence. Something that makes ye take notice. Wolfgang and Damo are the opposites in terms of likeability though. As they shook hands and engaged in a shoulderblock duel. I mind my jaw dropping at a German Suplex anaw, but I’m no entirely sure who dished it out or who the recipient wis, so its entirely useless mentioning it ataw. Something that was apparent even before his emotive bit of mic work at the end was that big Dave Mastiff wisnae at the races. He was still scary. He was still leathering cunts, but there was a lack of self assurance about him. His identity as the most dangerous super-heavyweight in Europe had been called into question, and the big man was not his usual, often brutal self. Resorting to spitting in the direction of his super heavyweight hairy bastardin bretheren big Damo. Wolfgang dished out a splash to Iestyn, but the big man caught him up top and dished out a beauty of a superplex. Most of the eye catching stuff came from the collection of bears in the match, with Damo performing his customary chest stand/senton combination on Rees, but the debutant always seemed to have a bit of a mental edge on his opponents, and he took advantage of a beezer of a spear, followed by a Swanton by Wolfie on Mastiff, to jump in and steal the pin.

Having dazzled us all wae his 10 million abs, and Joey Hayes levels of sleekitness, Iestyn exited victiorious, wae Wolfie and Damo also departing safe in the knowledge that thy remain a couple of the soundest cunts in the western world…but Dave Mastiff had some shit to get off his chest. The big man felt like he was alone at the top of European Wrestling for a while. Until he had the PWE Title that he held so dear cruelly snatched fae his grasp, he was secure as the lone monstrous bearded man on the scene, and now not only does Grado have his belt, Big Damo has a share of the big beardy bastards market anaw. Mastiff’s promo was not notch though. Everytime I see or hear anything fae the big man, he impresses more and more. A real sense of pain in his words. Top quality stuff. I’ve nae doubt we’ll see the big scary bastard back soon enough dismantling folks jaws as usual soon enough, but until then he should take a wee bit of time to run a comb through that magnificent beard and find out who the man behind the Mastiff truly is…

Liam Thomson vs Andy Wild

Two of my favourite cunts doing my favourite thing. Well my favourite thing apart fae “finding money, whilst looking at leaked photos of Katy Perrys dids” but its a very close second. In case yer wondering whit the fuck I’m on about, its wrestling guys! Wrestling. PWE is unfortunately the only regular haunt where I get tae see Andy Wild these days, so its always something tae savour. Apparently these two had some beautiful matches together in ICW before my time following the scene, so I envy ye if you were one of the folk who got to enjoy that undoubtedly tantalising sheeeeeit, but I spose this will have to do. Never gonnae tire of Liam Thomson coming out to Bad Boy For Life in certain promotions btw. Just dae that everywhere man. Nothing else makes sense. You are Bad Boy Liam Thomson. Yer gonnae be that way till ye die probably. Bad Boy For Life. Its fairly simple mathematics really. Fuck sake. Anyway, wrestling n that. Andy Wild won the battle of the shoulderblocks early on, cause whilst this battle might have been between two men of similar stature before, that is nae longer the case. Since they last wrestled, Andy Wild has cloned himself 3 times over, and absorbed aw the muscle n thigh mass fae the clones. Thats a roundabout way of saying…he’s a big bittae ah boay these days. Thomson delivers thome thunderous shoulders in the corner, the reverberations aff Wilds vast abdomen causing a tremor in the earth. Its like Andy Wild woke up wan day and thought “I’m no really intae being a normal guy anymore…think it might be cool tae be able tae throw the shott putt really far” and now he can probably dae that, or at the very least he’s deadlifting a Nissan Cherry. Anyway…fuck sake man, stop talking about Andy Wild’s chest and talk about the fuckin match.

Thomson had a sleeper locked in for a bit, but he’s no Ted DiBiase so that shit wisnae getting the job done. Wild forcing him into the corner with uppercuts, before chucking Thomson across the ring with a belly to belly suplex. I think there’s a fair chance he killed him. Except he didnae, cause the match continued and deid bodies cant wrestle. Not even a wee bit. Cannae even wrestle with their conscious or any metaphorical stuff like that. Deid bodies dont have feelings. Too busy being deid. Wild continued to do a lot of high impact, sare looking stuff, as he compounded Thomsons problems with the Gutwrench Powerbomb, before Thomson delivered that middle rope dropkick thing he does. Andy Wild’s been doing this interesting Ace Cutter looking maneuver for a while now, or perhaps he’s always done it and it just looks more impressive now cause he’s made oota cast iron these days, but it’s a cracking move. Unfortunately for oor Andy it led to his downfall as Thomson flipped into a pin to steal the win.

Had a feeling Thomson would win this though. Andy Wild’s got a similar “cant catch a break” vibe to him these days that yer man Dave Mastiff was sporting, so I reckon a wee match between yer former champions would be a bit special. Imagine Wild hitting that belly tae belly on Dave Mastiff man. Unreal. Lovely match though. Liam Thomson is a fucking joy to watch. Smoothest of all the operators.

Roll up for the Noam Dar show. Priced – 1 hour…maybe 2, of yer precious time. I’m gonnae haver about the cunt for a while here, cause he fuckin done the business, and when someone brings it like Noam Dar did on Saturday night…when someone brings the noise so forcefully…you’ve got tae recognise. When you go along to a wee wrestling show, expecting nothing more than good wrestling from some top class pro wrestlers, and a cunt like Noam Dar gives ye two match of the night/year/century performances at opposite ends of the wrestling spectrum, in the same fuckin night, its only right ye gie him the credit he undoubtedly deserves. The first match I seen as a fan of Scottish Wrestling involved a brash, cocky, and slightly annoying Noam Dar take on Wolfgang in an entertaining match, but back then there was still rough edges. Of course there fuckin wis. Cunt was 18 or something. Now though? At 21 he’ll obviously keep on getting better, but if he was to stay at his standard for the rest of his career, he’d be better than most. No just in Scotland, in the world. Noam Dar just has it. Injury derailed it for a while. Growing up a bit maybe did anaw, but now? Fuckin hell. He’s fully fit and slaying it. Killing it stone deid. To have him, The Coffeys, BT Gunn and others producing that standard of WRESTLING so frequently is a blessing, but Noam Dar ticks all the fuckin boxes. He even invented a couple of boxes anaw, namely ‘huvin a cool dug’ and ‘being Khali’s best pal’ and now both things are seen as absolute essentials to being considered a top class pro grappler. In short. Noam Dar is some man. Firstly he took on someone who also firmly fits in to the “some man” category, in the Fallen Angel Christopher Daniels, and that shit was yer first half main event. A 21 year veteran against a 21 year….old. 

A VT played of yer man Hearto chatting like this is Noam’s last chance to beat a big name. He’s had brilliant matches with all yer recognisable imports been he’s never been able to get the W. Monster by Imagine Dragons played over it anaw, cause Noam Dar is Daniel Bryan without the pain and the arse Bella on his arm, and that stupit, big beard (fuckin big beards…hipster wank) Noam Dar is the present, and Noam Dar’s a muhfuckin monster. 

Noam Dar vs Christopher Daniels

Having said that, this was a sqwaaaaaash. Daniels had too much for the youngster. Pretty standard stuff really. Hit him with the top rope quintuple, double stomp, intae the t-bone-thugs-and-harmony suplex, and finished wae the rainmaker and the job was a gid yin. I jest! This was of course a work of fucking art. Christopher Daniels is the type of kinda strange, wrasslin genius that TNA really should have given a shot of the belt to. Nae offence to Eric Young. A massively entertaining bearded fella in his ain right, but if he deserved a run with the shiny belt, so did Christopher Daniels.

A good natured handshake, and a knowing “I’m gonnae wrestle fuck oota you” wink is exchanged between the boaysies, and we’re off at the races. A couple of early tie-ups are met with clean breaks. Setting that sportsmanship tone is it? Of course. Wouldnae expect anything less fae yees ya classy bastards. A bunch of sexy mat wrasslin stuff eased us intae it, with all sorts of armbars, locks of various descriptions, and sneaky wee pinning combinations being reeled out. A firemans carry takeover brought old school back (fuck me, thats so bad…sorry……a wee bit anyway, more sorry than my usual moderate base level of sorryness for shite patter) before Noam hit a beauty of a dropkick. Then we had that spot that I was kinda hoping was just a one off fae Noam, cause thats some weird foot fetish shit on the go if it isnae, and that’s some freaky shit. He went ahead and put Christopher Daniels foot in his mouth anyway. A foot that’s been kickin folk, and gettin aw beaten up and sweaty for the same amount of time as Noam’s been on earth. Really should have thought that one through mate. Maybe he did realise how mockit that is, cause he got a bit angry and got tae dropkicking Daniels knee while it was hung up on the ropes, only for the Fallen Angel tae finally kick into high gear. A running knee and a gutwrench gutbuster (fuck knows if thats a thing…it was a gutwrench move that busted and wrenched guts) and abdominal stretch from Daniels was reversed into a sexy hiptoss.

Everything about this wrestling wise was so fluid, it as like they’d been wrestling each other for fuckin years. A dropkick in the corner and a fishermans suplex for a 2 count. Daniels back in the mix wae a codebreaker looking move, but wisnae quite a codebreaker. It was all too much. Wumin were fainting, weans heids were spotaneously combusting cause they could all feel it. Noams moment was coming. A Noam-ent in time ye could say (although you definitely shouldn’t) Nom does German Suplexes now and again, and that’s always a good time, so he fired that intae the argument. Germans have always been really good at arguments eh? Made hunners of sense I suppose. Daniels got back into the ascendency though, flying about at a speed a man of his…mature, years really shouldnae be able to. Noams Fishermans Suplex attempt was blocked, before Daniels had two bites of the Best Moonsault Ever Cherry, but both times Noam was wise to his game. Cannae be jumpin about Noams toon, daein amazin moonsaults on him and aw that patter.
Nah. This was Noams night, and after blocking the second one he eventually did his The Fishermans Suplex to earn that maiden win over a guy yer da might know….if he watched TNA in the 2000s… Momentous though. He’s proven time and time again he’s good enough to get great matches out of imports. Which isnae always easy, some are more interested in the payday than putting on a show, but I suppose Noams job is made a lot easier when he’s in there with a class act like yer man Daniels. Who got on the mic to talk Noam up not once, but TWICE. After their match he gave it rousing patter about how the better man won, and how him and Noam were gonnae hit the Ayr City Centre with matching “really good wrestler” hats, and get aw the fanny. Mainly the stuff about Noam going far though. It really disnae matter if Daniels had no idea who Noam was before this match (although i doubt that’s the case) he went out there and made him look like the superstar he is. Oh and the second time he got on the mic, also included complimentary patter about the bold Grado, and the reason for that might become a bit clearer when I tell ye about…

Grado vs Noam Dar (PWE Title Match)

Ye see. Grado didnae win the PDubyaEE Title for it tae set on the mantelpiece did he. That’s no where real, active belts are supposed to live (unless yer name’s Dwayne Johnson or Brock Lesnar….) they’re supposed to be out there in the real world. Out there gettin defended. So Grado was out tae issue an open challenge. He’s been away over in America wae his best pal in the wrasslin Noam Dar, and they’ve been living it up let me tell ye. Twinkies, Burgers wae buns made outta hot dogs, big 10 litre jugs of Sprite, drunk through straws made of sugar cubes. Basically, anything that can rot yer teeth, including professional wrestling, the Ayrshire Pair(shire) were in amongst. Nae mare of that caper for Grado though. Open challenge. Lets do it. Anycunt in that locker room with the stones to take on El Grado, come ahead.

So think to yersell, who had a big shimmering set of baws on him off the back of a certain significant victory he achieved earlier in the night? Who sat backstage, still in his full gear, listening to his “get hype for the summer and/or wrasslin matches” mixtape just in case. In case he was offered that one shot. That one opportunity. To seize everything he ever wanted. In one moment. Would he capture it? Or just let it slip.
Well first he’d have a wee bit of a patter exchange with his good good personal friend Grado, as Noam emerged to answer the challenge of his buddy. He insisted that whilst he was coming for that belt wae everything he had, that they were gonnae have fun. Nae point in anything else really is there. Two pals. Genuine real life pals. Wrestling each other in their own Town. Of course the troops are gonnae put on a show. Nae point kidding on ye hate each other in this context, and what followed was one of my favourite “light hearted” matches. I’m no gonnae call it a “comedy” match cause I see Laurel n Hardy shit in my heid when I see that, and that kind of patter brings it down. It wasnt yer strong style wrestling, but it had ye eating out of the palm of its hand (the hand of friendship….cause they’re pals n that) and any match that start with high fives, and big tens, is some shit I’m intae.

They get cheeky. Majorly cheeky. Hunners of cheeky erse based shenanigans before Noam tried a deadlift German, only for Grado to literally go deidweight. The deidest of all lifts. Noam couldnae dae it, cause he’s no packing Lou Ferrigno muscle, before a figure four attempt was blocked. Fuckin tryin aw the Ric Flair patter! Behave! Then Grado tried that “look up” patter, but Noam’s seen it all before. That’s yer best wrasslin pal in the world, and yer expecting him not to be wise to your tricks? C’mon Grado mate. He brings Eddie Sideburns into it, and eventually gets SOMEDY to look up, then they both made themselves really dizzy with some wheelbarrow punches. Properly tuckered themselves out did the boaysies. Grado went Old School but got the fear and asked his pal in confidence, wae a belt on the line no less, if he would help him doon. Just shows ye how much of a top class pal Noam is that he duly obliged, only to ‘accidentally’ stumble into the ropes, and send Grado on a baw first ascent to earth. In case yer no fully understand what I mean by that, I mean he split his sack. Got it? Sound.

There was shake rattles and aw the rolls from both, Grado capping his off wae the Bionic Elbow, before the wee boot slung in Noams direction was blocked, and a fuckin CHAIR got intae the mix anaw, cause as much fun and frolics as two pals can have, there was a shiny belt on the line and Noam Dar wanted it. Grado wanted to keep it, so it was always gonnae get down to brass tax in the end, brass baws and maybe even brass knucks if it came tae it. What needed to happen is that someone needed to be willing to die for that belt. In the name of Ayrshire, and Pro Wrasslin Elite. It wisnae quite that serious like, but death might’ve been imminent anyway as the NAK saw fit tae toast their belt-free Tag Title win by taking Grado and Noam Dar as trophies instead. It was plain sailing for the Kliq, but they forgot a certain classy shiny heided man still dwelled backstage, and oot him came like the crusader for all that’s good and pure that he is, that’s right…it was a second appearance of the evening fro MARTIN ‘EFFIN KIRBY….naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah I jest. See thats funny cause they’re both bald men of similar stature. But of course it was Daniels. Cleaning house, and sending the crowd home with pulsating stauners extra veiny stauners as he hit the BME on BT Gunn. The Ayrshire titans might not have got the clean finish their exhibition of pure wrasslin deserved, but it did get some more beautiful words from Daniels. Hailing Dar and Grado as the life behind PWE, along wae the fans of course. Cause at the end of the day, we’re all a bunch of neat guys really. And thats all that matters. Wantae be pals?

So Noam Dar is the fuckin da. At least he was on this night anyway. The NAK caused it as per, and a lot of folk, all the way from yer game as fuck 100 pound scrapper Lou King Sharp, tae someone around triple his size in the bold Dave Mastiff, done some excellent pro wrestling based things. Fallen Angel was another top class wrestling show. For me, PWE strike the balance between family friendly and having an appeal with adults better than anyone right now. Quality wrestling, and entertainment throughout. Besta gear.

Couple of things. Footnotes if ye will. I was late in and missed a pre-show match involving Saqib Ali, Lewis Girvan, Switch and Glen Dunbar. I’m sure it was stellar, but I’m not just dingying it or anything, I didnae see it unfortunately. Also, much credit to Mad Man Manson for being hilarious throughout as the MC. Didnae mention it much in the main review, but he was braw. Trust me. I’m a…….I dunno…somethin. A guy.

Wrestling.

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One thought on “PWE Fallen Angel Review

  1. Pingback: From Our Affiliates: Snapmare Necks – Pro Wrestling Elite Fallen Angel Review | Wrestle Ropes

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