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                          Creed vs. Lord Byron
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                               Writer: RD

TD: Lord Byron is the man who stepped up to the plate and accepted 
    Creed's call for an opponent tonight.  Both these men are looking
    for a big boost in the rankings, a victory tonight just might be the
    tonic they need.

SR: I guess that means Byron will be using Creed as a stepping stone to
    greater things.  He'll tie this big ape into knots.

TD: What's your problem with Creed, Steve?

SR: The moment those imbeciles in the audience started to cheer for him, 
    I realised that he doesn't have what it takes to make it in this
    sport.

TD: The fans have more intelligence than you give them credit for, 
    Steve. Let's go down to Sparkplug for the official introduction.

[The camera cuts to center ring as Sparkplug Lee steps into the
spotlight.]

RA: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first,
    accompanied by Lady DeWinter, hailing from Lancashire, England, and
    weighing in at 265 lbs, here is Lord Byron!

[There is a big heel pop from the crowd as Intermezzo from Karelia Suite
plays over the loudspeakers.  Lord Byron walks down the aisle with a
look of supreme confidence on his face, ignoring the insults shouted at
him from the audience.  Lady DeWinter follows behind looking agitated
and distraught.  The jeers of the crowd seem to bother her and she halts
for a brief exchange with an insulting fan.]

TD: Lord Byron appears as confident as ever, but I wonder if he is so  
    sure of himself beneath that cool and collected exterior. He might
    have spent more time sorting out his problems with Lady DeWinter
    than formulating a sound match strategy.

SR: I'd better get Lady DeWinter's phone number so I can console her
    through these rough times.

TD: I don't think she needs the kind of consoling you have in mind, 
    Steve.

[Lord Byron arrives at ringside and notices Mad Dog Watkins sitting in
the front row.  Byron gives a brief nod of recognition, and the wily
veteran responds with a slight nod of his own.  Byron enters the ring,
but doesn't bother to hold open the ropes for Lady DeWinter.]

RA: And introducing his opponent, accompanied to the ring by his CEO, 
    Jack Montgomery, hailing from parts unknown, and weighing in at
    275lbs, here is the man known as Creed!

[There is a surprisingly loud pop from the audience as the words
"Anyone. Anywhere. Anytime." echo throughout the arena.  Creed appears
at the head of the aisle as the fourth movement of Beethoven's Ninth
Symphony thunders over the speakers. The CEO has a crafty smirk on his
face as he guides Creed down to ringside.]

SR: What's he grinning about?  I hope he didn't get Lady DeWinter's 
    phone number before me!

TD: Don't get yourself into a panic Steve, I expect the CEO is smiling 
    because he has something special in store for Lord Byron.

SR: As long as he doesn't have anything special in store for Lady 
    DeWinter.

TD: Cool your jets, Steve! Lord Byron and the Lady DeWinter haven't even
    split up yet!

[Creed notices Mad Dog Watkins sitting at ringside and gives the veteran
a cold stare.  Watkins remains unperturbed and smiles slightly to
himself. Creed climbs the steps into the ring followed closely by the
CEO. Montgommery leans over to Creed and begins  whispering into his
ear. The big man nods slightly a couple of times but doesn't change his
expression.]

SR: The CEO is whispering sweet nothings in Creed's ear!

TD: Will you stop! The CEO is giving Creed his last minute instructions.

[Ding! Ding! The CEO bails from the ring as the bell sounds and the two
combatants face off. Byron and Creed measure up to each other well,
having similar heights and weights, although Creed is the bulkier and
more muscular of the two.  Byron immediately comes at Creed with a punch
to the midsection, catching the big man off guard and stunning him
momentarily. The blueblood follows up by grabbing Creed's left arm and
twisting it in a painful armwringer.]

TD: Byron goes straight for Creed's deadliest weapon, that powerful left 
    arm of his.  If he can weaken it sufficiently Creed will be at a
    severe disadvantage later on in the match.

SR: I'm mighty curious as to how Creed developed such a powerful left 
    hand.

TD: What are you suggesting, Steve?

SR: Well, let's just say that red glove probably covers a very hairy  
    palm.

TD: I really have no idea what you're talking about.

[Byron whips Creed to the ropes and meets him on the rebound with a
powerful savate kick to the throat, dropping the big man to the canvas. 
Heel pop!  Creed barely takes any notice and is straight back on his
feet, lunging at Lord Byron.  The blueblood wants no part of a slugfest
with Creed however, and slips beneath the ring ropes to the arena floor.
Byron paces around the ring as the ref begins to count.  Lady DeWinter
shouts advice to Lord Byron, but he doesn't appear to take any notice of
her, much to her chagrin.  Byron rolls back in the ring to break the
count and goes to lock up with Creed, but the two struggle to a
stalemate and shove each other off.  Byron feins another lock up but
just before contact he drops to the mat and rolls away.  Once again,
Byron slides out of the ring and begins to pace the floor.]

TD: Lord Byron is apparently trying to frustrate Creed into losing his 
    head by refusing to lock up.  Creed doesn't look too perturbed
    however, and seems content to wait for Byron to stop messing around
    and get back into the ring.

SR: Creed should go down there and break Byron's nose for him.

TD: You've changed your tune, haven't you?

SR: Well, if Creed puts Lord Byron in the hospital, _somebody's_ gotta 
    take Lady DeWinter home tonight.

TD: The day Lady DeWinter gets into your car, Steve, is the day El Super
    Gecko wins the World title.

[Lord Byron takes his time as he climbs back through the ropes and
pretends not to notice Creed approaching him from behind.  Suddenly
Byron whips around and knees Creed between the legs with crunching
impact.  The crowd jeers but the referee apparently misses the
illegality and doesn't interrupt the match. Creed tries to weather the
blow with his usual impassivity but the pain on his face is clearly
visible.]

SR: Heh, heh, he'll be singing a little higher in the shower this 
    evening.

[Byron doesn't give Creed a second to recover and executes a punishing
DDT, laying the big man out on the canvas. He immediately goes to work
on Creed's left arm, stomping on the hand and joints. Byron locks on an
armbar in a kneeling position, applying further strain to Creed's
powerful limb. The blueblood gets to his feet, still holding onto
Creed's arm, then comes down on the limb with a crunching legdrop. Heel
pop!]

TD: Creed is a resilient athlete, but I don't think his arm can stand up 
    to this kind of punishment for much longer.

[Byron locks the armbar on once again, but Creed manages to stagger to
his feet.  Byron whips him to the ropes and catches the big man on the
rebound, executing a devestating spinning neckbreaker.  Heel pop!  Creed
is layed out on the canvas once again and Byron does not waste the
opportunity to do further damage to Creed's arm, hitting it with a
series of kneedrops. Then Byron lifts Creed up and holds him in position
for a shoulderbreaker. The jeers of the crowd grow louder but Byron just
smiles smugly and executes the move.  Creeds arm falls limply by his
side as he drops to the mat.]

TD: I have to give Lord Byron credit here, he's staying out of the way 
    of his opponent's power tactics and is eliminating Creed's biggest
    strength.

SR: Trust an idiot like Creed to be in there with Byron tonight, he's
    gonna cost me a night with the lovely Lady DeWinter. Why couldn't he
    have been pitted against Otto Verhoeven? That would have ensured him
    a little trip to the hospital.

[Lord Byron smirks as he covers Creed for the pin.  Lady DeWinter can be
heard from ringside shouting hook the leg! hook the leg!  Byron is
distracted by the commotion, giving Creed the opportunity to kick out.
The arrogant blueblood slaps the mat in frustration and slides out of
the ring to argue with his valet.  The tiff between the two grows quite
heated and they fail to notice that Creed is gradually rising to his
feet in the ring. The big black man rubs his arm and shoulder, then
slowly climbs through the ropes and positions himself on the apron.
Byron is still oblivious to the 6'4" monster positioned directly behind
him, and Creed comes flying off the apron and drills the blueblood in
the back with a double axehandle. Lady DeWinter daintily steps aside as
Lord Byron is sent flying flat on his face. The crowd gives Creed a big
pop!]

TD: Byron is going to be furious about this turn of events.  He had the
    advantage over Creed all the way but he's allowing himself to become
    distracted too easily.

SR: [obviously not paying any attention] Mmmm... Lady DeWinter, you will
    be mine.

TD: You're really hopeless Steve, you know that?

[Creed hauls Lord Byron up, then heaves him bodilly into the crowd
barrier. The blueblood strikes the steel full force, causing the fans
around the barrier to scatter.  Byron is wincing in pain as Creed drags
him to his feet once again, only to run him head first into the steel
ring steps! Big pop from the crowd!  The CEO sneaks up and stomps on
Byron's chest several times, but backs off before the ref notices
anything amiss.]

SR: This is more like it!  A bit of ruthless brawling is a breath of 
    fresh air after all those boring armbars.

[Creed drags Lord Byron up by his hair and rolls the englishman back
into the ring.  The big man climbs onto the second turnbuckle from
outside, and comes flying off with a devestating elbow to Lord Byron's
throat! Creed lifts Byron up with little effort and positions the
blueblood over his shoulder.  He backs into the corner then runs into
center ring, slamming Byron into the mat with a crunching running
powerslam!  Big pop!  Byron is motionless on the mat, and Creed remains
atop of him for the cover.  1 - 2 - kickout by Lord Byron.]

TD: Now it's time for Lord Byron to show if he can weather this storm,
    as did Creed earlier.  The match is really not going Byron's way and
    he must do something drastic to escape his predicament.

SR: Wouldn't it be great if Creed attacked Byron with a chainsaw?  Then 
    Byron would be sent to hospital for sure, this big ape would get
    DQed and lose the match, and I would be left with Lady DeWinter.  A
    perfect scenario!

TD: Steve, can you concentrate a little less on your adolescent 
    fantasies and a little more on the match?

[Creed hauls Lord Byron up in preperation for further punishment, but
the Englishman has recovered sufficiently to jab his finger into Creed's
eye. The big man winces in pain and staggers back clutching his face.
Byron is still wobbly, but manages to compose himself enough to dropkick
Creed to the mat.]

TD: Amazing, with one illegal maneuver Lord Byron has managed to turn 
    the tide of this match-up once again. The ref really needs to assert
    himself here and put a stop to Byron's cheating.

[Lord Byron stomps Creed on his left shoulder and forearm a few times,
then drags him up in preperation for a powerbomb.  Lady DeWinter begins
shouting from ringside - "No, no, go for the Aristoclutch!" Byron
suddenly loses his temper at Lady DeWinter's constant distractions and
shouts over his shoulder "Damn you, woman, I'm trying to wrestle a match
here! Shut your trap or bloody well leave!" Byron executes the powerbomb
leaving Creed laid out on the mat, but Lady DeWinter is shocked and
offended at Byron's outburst and turns to leave ringside in a huff.]

TD: Look at that expression on her face! She's a lady and doesn't 
    deserve to be treated this way. I have a feeling Lord Byron will
    regret those harsh words later.

SR: Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, they've split up at last! Lady DeWinter 
    here I come!

TD: Please restrain yourself Steve, you have a match to announce.

[Lord Byron suddenly notices Lady DeWinter's absence at ringside and
looks wildly around the arena, only to see her disappear behind the ring
curtain at the top of the aisle.  He forgets Creed and vaults over the
top rope, rushing up the aisle yelling "No wait! Come back!"  Meanwhile
Creed staggers to his feet in the ring and begins to shake off the
cobwebs. The ref puts on the count but Lord Byron is oblivious,
absolutely stunned that Lady DeWinter has actually left him.  Suddenly
he remembers that he has a match to wrestle, and sprints back to the
ring in order to beat the count. Just in time he dives beneath the ropes
and faces Creed, who is looking quite recovered.  Byron quivers with
anger and points at Creed, shouting "You bastard!" as if Creed was to
blame for Lady DeWinter's absence.]

TD: Lord Byron is absolutely furious and he looks set to take his anger 
    out on Creed, but really he only has himself to blame for this
    situation.

SR: Come on Byron, get this shindig over and done with so I can pay Lady
    DeWinter a visit.

[Byron launches himself at Creed with a fury, kicking out at his knee
and smothering him with forearm and fist strikes.  Creed remains cool
however, and bears the blows with little discomfort, bobbing and swaying
from side to side, making sure Byron's fists strike him mainly on his
arms and chest where they can have little impact.  Suddenly Byron winds
up for a big roundhouse right, but Creed catches the blueblood's hand in
his right fist. Byron is shocked and can only stare as Creed's massive
left fist comes crashing into his face.  The crowd goes crazy as Creed
begins unloading with a series of powerful left handed blows to Byron's
head.]

TD: Byron didn't damage Creed's left arm anywhere near enough and now 
    he's paying the price!

[Byron is groggy from the powerful blows and can only sway unsteadilly
as Creed winds up for a big left uppercut.  Bang!  Creed's fist hits
Byron's jaw with shattering force and the blueblood is sent crashing to
the mat. Huge pop!]

TD: Goodnight....

[Creed hauls Byron up by the throat and then drives him into the canvas
with a devestating choke slam!]

TD: Farewell...

[Creed lifts Byron up one last time, carrying him onto the top
turnbuckle. Creed sets Byron into position, then brings him crashing
down to the mat with an amazing flying powerbomb!]

TD: Amen!

[Creed holds the utterly motionless Lord Byron in position for the pin
and the referee puts on the count: 1 - 2 - 3!  The crowd explodes into a
massive pop as the bell sounds.  Ding! Ding! Ding!]

RA: Here is your official decision.  The winner of this bout, as the
    result of a pinfall, the man known as Creed!

TD: What an astonishing encounter we have just witnessed!  What a great
    victory for Creed, I'm sure this man has a bright future in the
    IIWF!

SR: That's it, I'm outta here....

[Steve throws scrambles to get rid of his headset and rushes off to find
Lady DeWinter. The referee attempts to raise Creed's arm but the big
man shrugs him off and raises his arms by himself as the crowd continues
to cheer.  The CEO cannot conceal his big victory grin as he enters the
ring and pats his protege on the back.]

TD: Hey wait, Steve! Get back here... [sighs] This is sure to be a big
    disappointment for Lord Byron, who has had a rough time since he
    returned to the IIWF several weeks ago. I can only speculate as to
    the future of Lord Byron and his Lady DeWinter as a team after what
    we've seen this evening.

[Creed and the CEO make their way backstage and the crowd pop dies down.
Slowly Byron recovers and the referee attempts to help him to his feet.
Frustrated, he shoves the referee aside and makes his own way out of the
ring. Byron limps slowly up the aisle, all the while shaking his head
and muttering to himself.]