Big Gold Buckle: Boss Ross vs Ella-Mae POSTED, Saloon OPEN

"If I'm gonna be honest... thinkin' it means a whole hell of a lot to hear you got as much respect as ya' do. But ya' also think I ain't the man worthy of holdin' this buckle. You want the fight, you've got the fight. I may not be the guy in charge of sayin' whether one can do it or not, but well... considerin' who you are, I don't see much point in thinkin' otherwise.

You and me... we're makin' this a fight to remember, I don't doubt it. And I'll show you everything I've got. Everything it takes to hold onto this buckle and what it stands for.

One Texan to another... you better be damn well ready to do the same."

Roland Chang Junior: So I keep hearing about this belt buckle prize here, and what I hear is that this was supposed to be some sort of special Texan championship! But if that's the damn blasted case, then why the hell haven't I been told about this thing? If this is supposed to be for the best Texans, then I should have held this trinket for months now! Months! Instead, I just found out about this because my stupid son saw something about it on on one of his stupid dumbass wannabe smart mark dirtsheet sites he reads on the interwebs!

Roland Chang III: Come on, World Wrestling Daily Digest's a reliable news site.

Chang Junior: Reliable, my ass! Kevin Anderson's a blowhard and the rest of them are even worse!

Chang III: Pot, kettle, dad.

Chang Junior: Hey, show some respect for your elders!

Roland Chang Senior: If you had the inclination to show me half the respect you demand from your own son, then I would say that you had a leg to stand on...

Chang Junior: Damn it, I'm getting crossfire from both sides here! Anyway, what I'm meaning to get at here, is that I'm challenging for this buckle, right now, against that fat tub of lard, Cowboy Johnston!

Chang Senior: Son, I do believe that you are mistaking Lance Marshall for Cowboy, and really, I don't know how, as even my old eyes and seasoned mind can keep those two apart.

Chang Junior: Yeah, yeah, so, Marshall, I'm not just going to take that buckle off your belt, I'm gonna humiliate you like you've never been humiliated before! I'm going to make you go crying back to that family of yours and go dig yourself a deep, deep hole in the ground, and cover it up in the reddest of red Texan dirt, because that's the only way you're going to be able to get away from the shame that you'll feel after I get done with you!

Chang III: Dad, you do know Austin Baron's got the shot, right now. So this isn't a challenge, this is just a crazy old man ranting...no disrespect, Grandpa.

Chang Senior: None taken.

Chang Junior: Austin? Austin isn't even really Texas, it's just a weird little colony here in the middle of our proud state! Austin's got nothing to do with the real Texas!

Chang III: Um, Austin Baron, not the city of Austin, Austin Baron from Warrior Pro! You know, Vic Baron's dad!

Chang Junior: Wait, Warrior Pro, that's California! What's some California surfer dude doing here trying to steal our Texan belt buckle?

Chang III: I give up, have fun embarrassing yourself...again.

Chang Junior: Yeah, don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out! And hey! Go pick me up some lottery tickets while you're out! So, Baron, Marshall, you two don't deserve this Texan buckle! One of you's a no good backwoods hillbilly that's a bit too fond of his own family, and the other one of you's some past his prime out of state boring old man who gets his ass handed to him by his kid and doesn't have the pride to do anything about it! Neither of you got a chance against a real man like me! I'm a certified Texan legend of the ring, who the hell are you?

Standing outside a dilapidated honky tonk establishment on the outskirts of Amarillo, Texas, Roland Chang Junior is seen hopping out of a large white pickup truck, stomping up to the front doors. As the middle Roland exits the late afternoon landscape into the roadhouse, Roland Changs III and Senior are viewed stepping out of a vintage red Ford pickup, with the rapidly bobbing camera following behind.

Roland Chang Senior: I do believe it would be best if we picked up the pace. Annabelle, you might as well follow us in with that camera.

Roland Chang III: Dad wasn't even supposed to go in...we all know what happens when he goes in that place...

Annie Chang: Hey, this is gonna be fun! I wasn't going to come visit here to sit around all day and watch the grass grow!

The three approach the doors of the establishment, and as they do, a loud fracas can already be heard inside. The Changs burst through the swinging doors, finding Roland Chang Junior inside at the bar, yelling his head off at a broad shouldered, brown bearded man, constantly pointing at his sizable belt buckle while the bartender casts a simultaneously bemused and irritated glare their way.

Roland Chang Junior: You hear me, Marshall? I'm gonna kick your ass so hard that your ancestors feel it and that's why they call a donkey an ass! You don't deserve to represent Texas! What'd you ever do, you son of a bitch? You think you're a big shot just because you have your own little fed you run? You think you actually did something winning some titles? I don't need a belt to make my legend!

Random Bearded Man: Again, I told you, I don't know who the hell this Marshall guy is! And get out of my face already!

Chang Junior: Lance Marshall, don't you lie to me, you think you can duck Roland Chang Junior? You think you can hide from me?

Random: I just spent eight straight hours patching up roads, and you want to give me shit? Get outta here!

Chang Junior: You want me to stop, then make me!

Chang Senior: Son, I really do not think this is a very good idea...

Annie: Kick his ass, seabass!

Chang III: Aw jeesh, Annie, don't encourage him.

Chang Junior: Fine, you don't want to fight now, then I'm just gonna take that Texan buckle for safekeeping!

Random: What the fuck? Hey, Slim, Frisco, get Roy over here!

As the bearded man called for assistance, three weary, grungy looking road workers rise up from their corner table, leaving their pitcher of beer behind as they hurried over to pry a deranged Roland Chang Junior off their compatriot. Before they could make it, Roland Chang III reluctantly stepped in the way, managing to wrangle several smaller foes at once.

Annie: Hey, gramps, take the camera, I gotta get in there!

And with that, Annie Chang jumped into the fray, leaving her camera with Roland Senior as she ran up, tackling the largest of the workers to the ground and walloping him with a series of right hands. Roland III tripped over the two, accidentally planting a worker into the hard floor thanks to the front facelock he had applied. The third one jumped in at the youngest Roland, only for Chang Senior to step in and boot him in the head, catching the action on camera, somehow. Eventually, Roland Junior jumped up to his feet, a belt buckle proudly held aloft as he shouted up to the ceiling fans.

Roland Junior: You see that, yeah, Senior, hold that camera up here, this is the Buckle of Texas and I've got it right here! Lance Marshall, nobody beats Roland Chang Junior in a bar brawl in Texas! You just found that out tonight! Now they say you're pretty damn good in the ring! I say they're full of it! You want to prove me wrong? Show up where it counts and take your best shot!

Roland Senior: Son, we best be getting going right now. Bartender's told me he can smooth this incident over...but only if we leave...now.

Roland Junior: You just remember what I said, Marshall! I'll see you in the ring!

The challenger in question is currently leaning up against a brick wall, wearing a leather vest alongside his usual fit of a t-shirt, blue jeans and boots.

"The name is Calvin Pardo, and y'all might recognize me for my efforts in establishing a deathmatch scene here in our Lone Star State. Now, I'm not here for any pleasantries. I'm here to fight as we Texans do anyways when it comes to 'rasslin. Hearing about this here challenge for a big shiny belt buckle's got me excited. And especially since it's the one the ol' Baron's got! Now, I know. Current holder is the man, the legend. Motherfuckin' Lance Marshall. I get it. He ain't too much of a deal for me personally, because I was itching to get my hands on him for quite some time! If ya' accept this one, promise to me that the brawl won't turn into a sprint?"