TD: I don't know about that, Steve. Tiger Claw in pensive mood there, folks. Coming up next, here on IIWF Saturday Night, we have a match that is sure to be a real treat for these fans. SR: No, Dross, no matter how many cards and letters I get, I won't be returning to full time action -- but Lord Byron is your next best bet. He should be a man on a mission after his distruction of the Subway Psycho last week. When he gets this win, he'll jump right into that IC title hunt. TD: There's a man by the name of "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley... SR: Who? TD: ...who might have something to say about that. Quigley and IIWF champion Dan Kauffman have been si... hold on... well, we have a special guest who -- apparently -- will be joining us for ringside commentary for this match... Mad Dog Watkins! [Watkins puts on a pair of headphones at the announce table, ignoring the outstretched hand of Steve Roberts, who now stands to face him.] SR: Maybe you're a little confused, "Mad Dog". This table is for broadcast journalists, if you're looking for the pound -- it's down the street. TD: Why are you out here, Mad Dog? MDW: One, [points to Roberts] you keep your damn mouth shut when I'm out here. There's a man on the mic now. As for your question, Dross, why am I out here? Because I can be. That and Spreadbury hates the fact that one of his biggest names isn't on camera night in and night out, since the rest of his men keep playing the duck and dodge with me. I think he's probably sitting back there praying that you'll [points to Roberts, again] open your big assed mouth one too many times -- and I'll snap and drop you like the punk you are. SR: [pause] Let's get to ringside. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Lord Byron vs. "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= WRITER: JJ [Sparkplug Lee appears to be absentmindedly mouthing the words to "Copacabana" as he takes the mic...] SL: The following contest is set for one fall. Introducing first, at a weight of 265lbs, currently residing in New Orleans, Louisiana -- LordByron! [As Intermezzo from Karelia Suite begins, Byron emerges from the back, again without Lady DeWinter, but he does have his brass topped cane which he waves with a dramatic flourish as he steps into the ring.] TD: That's the cane that Byron used to steal a victory from the Subway Psycho last week. SR: How would you like to feel the top of that cane buried in your back, Watkins? I think I could arrange that. MDW: How would you like to feel my foot kicking your ass, Roberts? I damn well know I can arrange that. SL: His opponent, from Corner Brook, Newfoundland, Canada [Big face pop as "For Those About to Rock begins] he weighs 238lbs -- "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley! [The sunglasses are off early as Quigley makes a brisk walk down the aisle, seemingly intent on going right after Lord Byron. Quigley passes by, however, and acknowledges the fans from each corner as he hits the ring.] TD: Mad Dog, you're a ring veteran and have certainly seen each of these men a number of times. Do you have any thoughts about this matchup? MDW: Heh, Quigley's nothin' but a snot-nosed punk who I just cannot stand. But Lord Byron -- there's something about that guy I like. We come from different worlds, but you can tell by looking at him that he's got the fire deep inside. SR: Yeah, that's real expert analysis, "Mad Dog." Hope you got something to fall back on after your wrestling career's over -- 'cause you got no future in broadcasting. MDW: Dammit, Roberts, you'd better call your momma and tell her you ain't gonna make it home for supper tonight. TD: I might enjoy this after all. [Byron and Quigley approach each other quickly, Byron offering a collar and elbow lockup with Quigley accepting. Byron quickly manuevers into an armbar and then converts to a double wristlock. Byron slowly lowers Quigley to the mat, the smaller "Quickstrike" easily overpowered. Quigley, however, shows his nimbleness with a spin into a reverse wristlock and a power up into a standing side headlock. Byron counters with a go behind into a hammerlock which Quigley surprisingly powers out of with a hiptoss and a quick cover - 1 - kickout and both men are up to a vertical base.] TD: Exactly what we were expecting early on from these outstanding technicians. MDW: I like that double wristlock early from Byron, the boy can go. Let's see how long Quigley's gonna stay on the mat with him. I gotta think that Quigley's gonna get anxious 'fore too much longer. [The two technicians continue to trade holds, Quigley actually seeming to get the better of him on the mat, but Byron breaking on two or three occasions with eye gouges. Quigley has been able to keep his cool, however, and has Byron down in a reverse chinlock.] TD: Mad Dog Watkins, you have to be impressed by the sheer ability of these two men. MDW: I don't have to do nothin'. I said, I got respect for Byron, but even he don't want a part of me. No one wanted to accept my contract for tonight. I was promised real competition when I came to the IIWF. Where is it at? It's gotta be hard to wrestle when most of these guys don't have a backbone to speak of. [Byron has regained his base and each man has applied a lengthy armbar, Quigley is able to reverse Byron's and whips him to the corner, Quigley charges - but Byron catches him into an atomic drop! Pop! Byron Irish whips Quigley, as he rises; but Quigley reverses. Byron ducks a clothesline and the two go for a second pass. Quigley drops to the mat as Byron leaps over and the two go for a third pass, this time with Chris Quigley ducking and reversing his momentum to execute a quick crucifix into a sunset flip and a cover - 1 - 2 - No! And Byron is up with a hard lariat which sends Quigley crashing to the mat. Byron picks up Quigley into another Irish whip, Quigley seems set for a pass, but Byron surprises him with a big backdrop that sends Quigley to the mat hard on his left shoulder. Byron covers for - 1 - but Quigley reverses into an inside cradle for 1 - 2 - No! Byron kicks out and then kicks Quigley, landing an uncharactersitic hard boot to the face before returning to the mat with a grapevine. Heel pop!] TD: Neither man able to take control, here, Steve Roberts. SR; What match are you watching, Dross? Byron's all over this guy, like the fleas and cheap booze are all over Watkins. MDW: Boy, if you think you got something, how 'bout you accept my open contract? No one else wants none. SR: Well, I have the back... [Byron continues the pressure on Quigley's legs, seeming to focus on the right knee, Quigley has managed to reverse the hold once, only to take a slap to the face from Byron, causing Quigley to miss a wil right hand, putting him back in the hold.] TD: Well, Mad Dog, there is one man who seems to be interested in stepping in the ring with you, judging from that scene Wednesday night. How do you assess the talents of young Creed, a man who defeated this same Lord Byron? MDW: Creed. Kid's gonna be a good one, no doubt about it, but he's still awful green. Pup had better put in some more ring time 'fore he bites off more than he can chew. [Quigley is able to reach the ropes and the official breaks the hold, "Quickstrike" quickly scurries to the corner and seems to really be favoring his leg and shoulder as he reaches the buckle -- only to be met with a rake to the back by the awfully chippy Byron. Quigley turns and fires back with a right hand and then another right hand, earning a crowd pop as he corner whips Byron -- but Byron reverses and sends Quigley hard through the ropes, ramming his already injured shoulder into the ringspost! Big heel pop! Byron wastes no time in hopping from the ring, as Quigley remains on the ropes, slinging Quigley's arm hard into the post two, three, four times. Quigley rolls off and is crumpled in the corner as Byron advances, landing a series of hard boots to the chest that leave Quigley down and the fans booing a now posing Lord Byron!] SR: Say it, Dross. Say it! Lord Byron is dominating Chris Quigley! TD: You have to be impressed by the game plan. Lord Byron has really worn down "Quickstrike". MDW: I'll tell you what he's done, he's gone right after Quigley's leg and his shoulder -- he's gettin' him ready for that Aristoclutch. SR: Oh, would I like to see Quigley submit! That would make it all worthwhile. MDW: How 'bout shuttin' your ass up, Roberts?! That would be worth my while. [Byron resumes his attack on Quigley's leg, this time with a half-crab, but "Quickstrike" is able to break the hold and both men are again at a vertical base, Byron whips Quigley farside, but Quigley deftly takes him down with a drop toe hold and then applies, clearly with a sense of urgency, a figure four leglock! The face pop changes before it even forms as Quigley doesn't have the strength to keep in on and Lord Byron reverses the hold into his own figure four! Quigley fights to the ropes but his shoulders are down for a - 1 - 2 - Up... and then down again - 1 - 2 - Up! Quigley's shoulder barely beats the three count, leading Byron to briefly look up at the official -- and Quigley to seize the opportunity with an all-out kick to the chest that sends Byron sliding underneath the ropes and clear out to the floor! Big pop! Byron begins to stir as Quigley desperately climbs to the top rope...] TD: He's going up! Chris Quigley is going up! [Byron tentatively reaches his feet as Quigley leaps to the floor... and rocks Byron with a fist to the face! Big Pop!] TD: A lightning strike from the top rope to the floor! Unbelievable! MDW: That'll turn a man's face in a hurry. Byron's in a spot here. [Quigley capitalizes, sending Byron into the retaining barrier with a slingshot. Quigley is all over Byron with two reverse knife edges, and then whips the Englishman hard into the base of the apron! Pop! Quigley charges -- and his caught with a high knee. Byron straps his arm high on the back of Quigley's head...] TD: DDT! DDT! Lord Byron has just DDT'd Chris Quigley right out on the floor! SR: It's over! Yes! Yes! MDW: I don't know how much Byron's got in his tank at this point. Don't know how much either of them got. [Byron picks up Quigley and slowly tosses him back into the ring.] TD: I think Byron's got to go for the Aristoclutch, Mad Dog. Quigley will never be... [the lights in the arena flicker] Hold on! [Big Pop!] Hold On! [A large figure begins to make his way to the ring] It's the Deathbringer! [Deathbringer reaches ringside, drawing the attention of Byron who is then rolled into a quick small package by Quigley - 1 - 2 - kickout. Quigley is now up, and fires away with right hands, sending Byron back into the corner. Quigley corner whips and Byron reverses - but Quigley is able to gather his momentum and spring off the ropes back at Byron for a flying forearm! Which he lands -- but not on Lord Byron. Byron is able to guide the official in front of him, slipping the blow which instead strikes the official with full force -- leaving him unconscious.] SR: Quigley just hit the ref. That's a DQ! That's a DQ! TD: What are you watching, Steve Roberts? Lord Byron obviously pulled the official in front of him! If anybody should be disqualified, it's Byron! MDW: I think you boys had better pay attention to the ring here, looks like the big fella' might have himself a notion. [Deathbringer is now pointing at the stunned Quigley, who disregards both him and the downed offcial and goes back to work on Lord Byron. Quigley Irish whips Byron into a side Russian leg sweep, then drives a knee into Byron's groin. Quigley holds up Byron's legs as his fans cheer wildly -- and drives another knee to the groin. Byron writhes on the mat as Quigley goes quickly to the midrope -- and comes down with a measured elbow to the throat! Big pop!] TD: It's all over! Quigley's about to pop the Quickstriker on Lord Byron! Over! MDW: Ref's still down, Dross. SR: But the dead man is getting up! Deathbringer is on the apron! [Quigley does put Byron in the Quickstriker, but only momentarily as he sees the Deathbringer and moves to the apron to confront him. The crowd rises collectively as these two men go nose to nose. Quigley growing more and more animated as 'Bringer refuses to leave. Quigley gives Deathbringer a shove to the chest and the big man counters with a right hand -- that Quigley blocks! Quigley sets for a right of his own -- but is hit over the back of the head by Lord Byron's cane! Big heel pop! Quigley stumbles and falls right in the middle of the ring. Byron atempts to cover -- but Deathbringer enters and shoves him away! Deathbringer picks up Quigley to his feet... and chokeslams him down to the mat! Big Pop! Deathbringer exits as Byron quickly covers, nudging the nearby official with his foot. The official now raises his head and sees the lateral press and moves in for a slow count of - 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: I can't believe it! SL: Your winner, as a result of a pinfall -- Lord Byron! [Heel pop as Byron quickly heads from the ring, hands raised in victory.] TD: Ridiculous! Lord Byron has used that cane in back to back weeks to garner huge victories over first the Subway Psycho, and now Chris Quigley. MDW: Hey, use what you gotta use. If Quigley hadn't gone after the dead guy out there, he would have got his win.