Cockaboose Hosts Fall Brawl 2: How Jon Malus Hoodwinked Columbia With A Soda City Spectacular

Jon Malus and Luke Gallows (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Beyond the mania of the collegiate bar arena stands the garnet and black ring in front of the concert stage. The colors are fitting based on its location in Columbia, SC.

This is the Thunderdome of sorts for the Loose Cockaboose, the host of Fall Brawl II: The Lethal Lottery.

And as in the Mad Max film, a motley group of assorted characters coagulate in conversation as they enter with their rolling luggage. The wrestlers instantly catch up with each others' travels. Some just saw each other a week ago in Charleston. Some haven't seen each other in months.

It's only two in the afternoon. I'm camped out at the outdoor bar like a character out of Hemingway; beer and notepad handy in a sea of testosterone.

Jon Malus, the facilitator of this show, stalks the hot terrain like a foreman on a construction site. He guides the ring crew in setting up rows of chairs and assembling a multi-section black tarp that will act as a barrier between the audience and the wrestlers' backstage area.

The temperature is in the low seventies. Everyone's working up a sweat. Even Brett Wolverton, the journeyman ring announcer of the independent scene, is hard at work with the sound crew, matching his notes with theirs. It's his 30th birthday today.

As three o'clock approaches, more and more wrestlers enter. Most notably, Luke Gallows makes his entrance. Everyone takes notice when the former WWE star appears. And yet the guy with arguably the most experience, Brad Cain (Lodi) slips by with only a few acknowledgments.

The autograph and question/answer session with the wrestlers begins shortly after three thirty. A satellite bar has been erected across from the outdoor bar. The Cockaboose has created a three pronged approach to snare the fans in a net of beer and alcohol.

The first fans to enter are, of course, the die-hards. They've been waiting for this show for weeks, and it shows with the posters and memorabilia they bring to be signed.

Highlights from the question/answer session include poignant stories by Lodi concerning wrestling post-WCW fame and his laundry list of injuries. I feel compelled to ask BJ Hancock what his favorite Arthur Miller play is based on his t-shirt that says "Death of a Salesman." I resist the urge, fearing my question will elicit a riot of silence and disdain. Discussion over mid 20th century American theatre has no business being mentioned here.

The five o'clock bell time holds up. The wrestlers exit to the back. The number of people gathered has doubled with a combination of wrestling fans and Saturday bar hoppers. By the amount of open containers and mix drinks, it feels more like midnight than late afternoon. I embrace my hypocrisy with my Bud Light in hand. But I know how long this show will potentially last between seven tag matches, five singles matches, and a battle royal. A gentleman wearing a Staff t-shirt seems compelled to ignore that fact as I count his third mix drink going down the shaft. Via con dios amigo...

Josh Magnum (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Of the first group of tag matches, the opener with Josh Magnum and Jesse Windham matched up against Xavier Knight and BJ Hancock gets arguably the most pops. Early on, Magnum defied the exposed concrete sidewalk by diving onto Knight and Hancock from the top rope. His athleticism matched up against Knight's is the independent equivalent of Flair and Steamboat.

A cloud of smoke creates a haze around the bar. A growing buzz around the scene emanates from a group of female rugby players who have assembled amongst multiple buckets of beer; a regular alcoholucopia. They're like a wrestling stable of their own with strength in numbers and a bullish attitude towards the competitors.

The second Lethal Lottery tag match pits tag team nemeses DeAndre Jackson of Affirmative Action and Bradford Steele of L.E.G.I.T. against "the Insane" Asylum and "the Prestige" Steven Hunter. Jackson and Steele just competed against one another the previous Sunday in Charleston with L.E.G.I.T. winning the OSCW tag team titles. Their alliance is grudging to say the least. Jackson has an undeniable rapport with the audience. He combines a Men on a Mission look from the 90's with the personality of Arsenio Hall during his talk show days.

Asylum chokeslams DeAndre Jackson (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Asylum clearly has no love for Hunter, possibly stemming from a long buried dislike for the Beverly Brothers. (Hunter's color scheme on his tights is purple and silver.) He instantly slaps Hunter around like a Hemingway five letter woman. Asylum wins the match on his own with multiple chokeslams. The conclusion of the match sees the female rugby team venture inside and open a drinking contest amongst themselves.

Intervening between the tag team matches is the women's match between Pandora and Tracy Taylor. The match goes back and forth with various shifts in momentum for each lady. The frat boys that have gathered in the audience show their respect and decorum, shouting phrases like "punch her in the baby maker!" repeatedly. Classy gents. In the end the "Island Girl" Taylor gets the win over the punk rock kabuki Pandora.

Tracy Taylor and Pandora (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Still no word on who won the drinking contest between the ruby players.

I see guy with the Staff t-shirt again. He's staggering badly. He's trashed. It's only half past six. So are many others. The drunk collegians stumble with cocktails in hand and wear fierce combative eyes.Who knows when an impromptu match will break out in this crowd.

A bombed out Pitbull-looking gent is circling the "2 Bitches and a Broom" table like a drunken vulture, apparently spitting out insults at the girl running the promotion. This continues off and on for the rest of the night. It's like having Days of Your Lives in your living room while trying to watch Ali-Frazier.

Next up in the Lethal Lottery is Michael Frehley teamed with "the Salem Sinner" Sixx versus the Black Butler and Chrisifix. It should be noted that Chrisifix proudly wears an "I Killed Jesus" t-shirt that must sit well with the Christian fans. The Black Butler is by far the most unique gimmick that has appeared yet. Clad in full butler costume with long black hair, his movement is very staccato and mechanical. But it's Sixx (who resembles a lost member of Slipknot) who proves to be the difference maker, dominating everyone in the match.

Chrisifix and Michael Frehley (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Twilight starts to settle in, and I'm wondering how the fans are enjoying the show. They're excitement maintains with every match so far, but can Malus sustain it for the rest of the night? I had asked him how he could put together a show with no buildup or storylines for the fans to fall back on.

And then Yasir Ackbar comes out; the classic Middle Eastern anti-American archetype. He launches into a rant immediately, condemning the West. And then what music plays afterward? Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA."Sgt. Solitude emerges, waving Old Glory.

Malus just won his audience over for the rest of the night.

It's historical booking genius to have the Arab and the American forced to coexist as a tag team. God bless American foreign policy that has allowed that region of the world to continuously hate us.

But Malus has merely given us the tasty entree. Their opponents are the dessert for those of us that leave room for it. One is Stevie Stifler, the self proclaimed "Queen of the Mountain." That's right, Queen of the Mountain. You know what I mean...

Who on earth should be paired up with the "Queen of the Mountain?" Hoss Hagood, that's who! A country strong redneck! (Seriously, read his t-shirt.) Oh, that cunning Malus. This was his plan all along. Build the show around easily understood and identifiable gimmicks that produce a reaction from the audience. Like agit-prop theatre in early 20th century Europe.

Yasir Ackbar and Sgt. Solitude (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Of course it does not take long for Solitude and Ackbar to get caught up in their nationalistic dislike for one another, and it inevitably leads to their defeat and Hagood and Stifler's advancement to the Battle Bowl battle royal. Ackbar's double cross of Solitude seals the deal for their demise.

Full fledged darkness overtakes the landscape. Two flood lights attached to the sound stage overhang power on to back light the ring. The lack of illumination makes the next match all the more brilliant and confusing at the same time. Mostly because the twin Mack brothers, TJ and Kirby are matched against one another rather than together in their usual tag team situation. My chest instantly recalls the numerous chops both men gave me six years ago in Charleston as Mr. Showtime found himself at their mercy. My next Bud Light eases the muscle memory pain.

John Skyler appears as Kirby's partner; Dirty as TJ's. The speed of the match quickly hits a fifth gear, which, again, makes watching in the near dark all the more exciting. It's Skylar and Kirby who advance to Battle Bowl.

The next tag match announced brings out the other halves of Affirmative Action in Nick Kismet and L.E.G.I.T. in Brandon Paradise. This time the enemies are pitted against each other with Kismet teaming up with Brady Pierce and Paradise drawing the off center masked man, El Flexador, who immediately becomes the focal point of the match with his pandering toward the crowd. In a cunning twist to the end of the match, Paradise and El Flexador get the win, but Flex unmasks to reveal himself as... BRADFORD STEELE! Thus, both members of L.E.G.I.T. advance to Battle Bowl.

But not so fast, my friend, says Brett Wolverton, exercising a position of power and authority. The real Flex stumbles to the ring, the victim of an apparent mickey slipped to him by Steele. Wolverton declares Steele ineligible for Battle Bowl, giving Flex his rightful place in the battle royal, despite being drugged. But Flex declines, admitting he's still too weak to compete. A substitute will be named later.

In the midst of the match, I spot Josh Magnum making his way through the fans to the back of the outdoor bar. He's unassuming in his ball cap and street clothes, and finds a spot on a brick hedge to lean against while drinking his screwdriver and enjoying a cigarette. It's an image right out of the movie Hud with Paul Newman.

Lodi (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

The eighth and final Lethal Lottery tag match pits Lodi and Ace Armstrong against another uneasy alliance in Jay Batista and Ken Magnum. Lodi's entrance is an instant energizer for the calming crowd. And it's badly needed because the temperature has dropped ten degrees. Most fans did not bring jackets. They're seeing their breath now. The drunkards are morphed into lethargic bar flies. The guy with the Staff t-shirt is passed out inside, head buried in the table.

The die-hards get their shot in the arm from Lodi and his "Welcome to the Jungle" entrance. The match itself sees Batista and Magnum battle each other more than their opponents, but it's Lodi who gets double crossed by Armstrong, causing their elimination. Lodi sits stunned in the middle of the ring. But the Columbia fans reward his appearance nevertheless.

To determine the final competitor in Battle Bowl, a singles "shoot out" is set up, ironically and fittingly, with "The Shooter" Vordell Walker and Billy Brash. Coming off of his victory against Luke Gallows a week prior in Charleston, Walker immediately takes Brash to task with a calculating offense that sets up for his trademark brainbuster, submission combination, causing Brash to tap out quickly.

Following Walker's victory is another singles match outside of the Lethal Lottery and Battle Bowl, featuring the recently crowned NWA Future Legends Cup winner Zack Salvation against Micah Taylor. Another high quality match that demonstrates far and away how deserving Salvation was of his honor. 

Following Salvation's victory is the Battle Bowl battle royal,  And it's not like a Royal Rumble set up where the wrestlers come out after a minute or so to join the fray. No, no, sir. This Battle Bowl is going to be a white line nightmare that begins with all fourteen men in the ring at the same time.

Before it begins, however, Wolverton announces El Flexador's replacement for Battle Bowl. Expecting someone from earlier to be chosen like Magnum just to see a hypothetical suicide dive off of the stage roof into the ring, the crowd is stunned when the replacement turns out to be Grandmaster Flex, a clever reinvention of the El Flexador character.

Malus! You've hoodwinked me again!

The chaos immediately erupts with the wrestlers charging one another like the running of the bulls. It's a punch and kick frenzy. I want to say I'm picking one of the big guys like Asylum, but somehow it never works out for a big guy in a battle royal. At least not historically by the numbers.

John Skyler and Xavier Knight (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

John Skyler has the hometown edge, that's for sure.

After the initial frenzy the bodies start exiting via the top rope. Skyler survives many an attempted elimination spots ala Shawn Michaels when he went bell to bell back in 1995. So does Xavier Knight. Eventually, they're both going at it, and it's classic wrestling drama. Either guy could win this thing, and they're two of the final three men left.

How can this possibly end? Who of these two will win Battle Bowl?

Neither.

They're both eliminated by Hoss Hagood in one fell swoop! Hagood wins Battle Bowl! Hagood is the first TLC Battle Bowl champion! Wolverton presents him with his trophy. No one saw the ending coming. Being a sucker for historical call backs, I was expecting someone to come out and bust apart the trophy ala Bret Hart on Bad News Brown at Wrestlemania IV.

Hoss Haygood wins Battle Bowl (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

But the night is not over yet. Two marquee matches remain. The fans aren't going anywhere, for next they are treated to a match that pits WWE against TNA. Luke Gallows versus Chase Stevens.

Stevens is first to enter, and he blasts the Columbia crowd with insults. Classic heat.

Luke Gallows enters to AC/DC's "Back in Black," and the Straight Edge Society member reveals a Budweiser long neck in hand. The crowd goes nuts for Gallows and his character change. Stevens calls him out on his defection. Gallows responds with a beat down. A bedlam beat down that finds its way to the outside.

Gallows shows a charisma never before seen during his run on WWE television. Perhaps this kind of character turn is what he needs to get back to WWE on his own someday; without the burden or reliance on a tag partner or stable. His match with Stevens is more than worth the five dollars for admission. A ticket for this match would be at least double or triple that price in a national promotion. He goes over clean on Stevens.

Luke Gallows and Chase Stevens (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

Up to this point, Malus has pitched a gem in setting up this show. To close it out, he finds himself matching up against the "Insane Lumberjack" Timber in what has been promoted as a Soda City Street Fight. Regardless of the nomenclature, it's a match that goes to the outside, and anything not nailed to the ground goes flying, These two know how to put on a good street fight as they tear apart the security rails. Why not? It's the main event. Tear the house down!

And they do. And everyone from the back finds there way to the ring to assist in a recall to Battle Bowl with a few classic gimmicks reemerging from the wrestlers who have already appeared. In the sea of humanity, Malus, the "Peroxide Juggernaut" catches Timber with a DDT that gives him the victory.

Timber and Jon Malus (Photo Courtesy of Wayne Rush)

A heartfelt beer bash is shared between everyone in the back; a thank you to each other and the fans for attending. Malus personally thanks the fans with a closing delivery on the mic. As the clock strikes ten, the die-hards finally start to file out. It has been a marathon show, which in other promotions would have been an issue with maintaining the attention of an independent wrestling crowd. But Malus has put on a masterpiece that is evidence that not only can he tell a story in the ring as a performer but can assemble and facilitate a show as well as anyone.

I leave the Cockaboose not only treated as a journalist to a first hand account of wrestling delight, but more importantly I leave entertained as a fan.

But I still wonder if the guy in the Staff t-shirt made it home?