=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Lord Byron vs. Harlequin Tragedy -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= [The spotlight clicks on Sparkplug as he crawls in to the ring. He tries to act nonchalant, as if his tuxedo isn't snagged on the turnbuckle.] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall. Coming to the ring, originally from Lan-ca-shi-re England, accompanied by the Lady DeWinter... at 6' 4" and 275 pounds... Lord Byron! [Sibelius plays as Lord Byron strides in. He stops to teach Sparkplug the correct, English, pronunciation of "Lancashire". He flicks Sparkplug under the chin as he passes. Lady DeWinter does the same as she goes by.] TD: This is the kind of match that I look forward to. Two men at the peak of their technical wrestling skills. SR: Since we're here in Mexico City, it's only appropriate that I add: El perro es un bocadillo. TD: The dog is a sandwich? SR: It loses something in translation. RA: And introducing his opponent... Hailing from Sleepy Hollow, Illinois, and weighing in at 220 pounds... Harlequin Tragedy and his companion Harlequin Comedy! ["Piece of Heaven" by Garbage begins. Tragedy and Comedy enter down the aisle, and two more harlequins follow behind them.] SR: I'm seeing double! I didn't drink _that much_ tequila! TD: Do you know who that is? SR: Obviously not, Dross. TD: Those are Harlequins Chaos and Melody. Chaos is Tragedy's brother... I've heard that he's a little... um... unstable. SR: As the Mexicans say: Cuando baile en la mercado, come pescado! TD: When you dance in the market, eat fish? [Tragedy enters the ring while his entourage stays in his corner. Byron appraises him, and at the bell, the two circle the ring. They lock up collar and elbow. Byron adjusts to a side headlock, Tragedy hooks Byron's leg and the two fall, hold broken. They roll away, and Byron politely tips his head in respect to his opponant. The Harlequin merely looks back impassively. Tragedy ducks under, twisting Byron's arm along the way. Byron gets a reverse and tosses Tragedy with a Japanese arm drag. Tragedy is immediatly on his feet and lands a flying drop kick. He catches Byron in a full nelson, Byron's frustration is evident. He backs Harlequin into the turnbuckle, smashing him until the hold is released. Byron circles, running his hand through his hair, regaining his composure. Tragedy mimes a tear running down his cheek.] SR: Mi cabeza es una tasa de pollo. TD: My head is a cup of chicken? Steve, you really need to check what you're saying. SR: You don't hink that Becky made a mistake when she wrote up this list of Spanish phrases for me, do you? TD: Oh... no... everyone can trust Becky. [Byron has Harlequin backed into the corner. He delivers a series of back elbow blows before Harlequin slips out. Byron elbows the ringpost. Harlequin slips around, grabs Byron's shoulders, leverages his feet against the Lord's chest, and falls backwards, monkey flipping the Englishman. Harlequin closes, Byron armdrag flips him twice before wrapping up Harlequin's arm into a cradle behind his head. He winches on the pressure.] TD: I don't know the Lord well... SR: You mean "at all". TD: ... but I'd say that he was trying to make an impression on his upcoming opponent: Marty Warnett. SR: Warty Walnut? The only thing that could make an impression on him would be an anvil. [Tragedy is able to get Byron's head in a legscissor. While the hold isn't much, it is enough to make the Lord let loose. Byron retreats back to his corner, pausing to exchange words with Lady De Winter. Byron feigns a punch, but instead leg sweeps Harlequin, immediately he executes a legbreaker, stretching the knee and tendons.] SR: Oh yeah, baby. That's how it's done. He's going to work on the leg he injured last time he fought Harly. TD: You have to be impressed with his ability to dissect an opponant. SR: You could say he is "un campasero frio". TD: A cold farmer? SR: Yeah, that's what I meant to say. [Byron adjusts the hold, increasing the pain, but getting no reaction from Harlequin. Tragedy reaches out and is just able to grab the ropes. Byron immediatly breaks clean. Once Tragedy stands, Byron tries to take him down with a roll. Harlequin leaps over and hip tosses the lord. The englishman immediatly changes his mode, unleashing a series of slaps and chops. He pushes Tragedy to the ropes then doubles him with a knee to the midsection. He hoists the smaller man and delivers a towering vertical suplex. Byron tosses Harlequin to the ropes, but is suprised when Tragedy reverses, then flattens Lord Byron with a well-timed superkick. The crowd cheers Harlequin who remains unresponsive. Tragedy closes, but falls as Byron pulls him from his vertical base by the leg. There is a scrabble as Byron tries to bend the leg backwards, but Harlequin is able to defend.] TD: The crowd seems to have a liking for this Harlequin Tragedy. SR: Whaddya expect? These bean eaters like their wrestlers all covered with masks and paint and costumes and jumping and leaping all the time. How else do you explain that idiot Onslaught? TD: You're not exactly a good will ambassador, are you? The first "I" in IIWF _is_ "International". SR: Oh, I like International... as long as it's in the United States. Since when were wrestlers included in NAFTA? [Harlequin takes the offensive with a series of moves that do more to infuriate than harm Byron: a trip, another hip toss, a side sault, finally a snap mare. Byron is finally able to drive his shoulder, throwing the smaller man into the ropes. He bends for the backdrop, but Harlequin leaps, coming over the top for the Sunset flip. 1 - 2 - Byron powers out. Byron attempts a lockup, Harlequin wraps around, Byron gets a neckbreaker in before rapidly moving into a sleeper hold. Harlequin flails. Byron sacrifices the hold in the interest of hooking the leg and flopping backwards. Harlequin quickly rolls out of the ring. His brother Chaos quickly comes to his aid to where Tragedy limps on the outside. Chaos threatens Byron, who ignores him. Byron watches Harlequin try to enter the ring with steel eyed determination. Byron tries to lockup before his opponant can get through the ropes, but Harlequin drives his head into the Lord's stomach, momentarily leaving him gasping for breath. Tragedy vaults over the ropes with a dive, and the two wrestlers fall in a ball.] SR: You know what else I hate about Mexico... TD: No, Steve. I want to hear what you _like_ about Mexico. SR: Hmmm... that's a tough one...nachos, I like nachos. And Corona beer, and Tiajuana... and pizza, yeah, I really like pizza. I gotta thank these Mexicans for pizza. TD: [Shakes his head and says nothing] [Harlequin arm whips Byron into the corner, he hits with a bang. Harlequin follows up, but Byron steps away from the turnbuckle and Harlequin stops himself by jumping up on the middle rope. Byron grabs him in a bear hug. The referee orders the release since Harlequin still stands on the rope. Byron breaks clean, but immediatly fires back with a slap. Harlequin places his hands on Byrons head and vaults over him. As soon as he lands, Byron lays him out with a forearm. Outside, Chaos paces the apron, stopping to slam the mat, then paces again. He kicks the ring steps.] TD: I'm not sure how long that young man can control himself. It's said he's a little mentally unbalanced. SR: Takes one to know one. TD: I thought I'd heard the last of that when I left third grade. SR: Bet you heard it a lot there, didn't you Dross? TD: Let's go back to the action... SR: You're squirming, Dross. [Byron unleashes a double underhook suplex, then throws Harlequin so hard to the corner he bounces back, right into a pile driver. Byron steps over and bends Harlequin into a camel clutch. Both men remain stoic as the hold continues.] TD: We could be here all night. I don't think Tragedy is going to submit. [There is a shout as Harlequin Chaos breaks free from where Harlequin's Comedy and Melody are trying to restrain him outside. He leaps on Byron's back, raining down with fists on the Lord. He drags Byron into the corner where he slams the Endlishman's head into the ringpost. The Ref signals the disqualification: Ding! Ding! Ding! Chaos cannot be swayed as he sandwiches the ring rope between his elbows and Lord Byron's neck. Byron chokes and reaches for help. Outside, Lady DeWinter does her best to free her man from the rampant Chaos. It takes Harlequin Tragedy to pull his litle brother away. The Harlequins exit up the aisle with their female counterparts, Tragedy limping noticably. The ref raises Lord Byron's arm in victory, but Byron pulls it from his grasp. He sneers, tosses his head back and stands. Lady Dewinter takes his hand as he exits out of the ring and up the aisle.] TD: It's a victory for Lord Byron, but he doesn't look happy about it. He wanted to wrestle a clear victory tonight. SR: A win's a win. Byron will get over it. Hey Dross, you know what I just found out? You can't get pizza here at the Sombrero Dome. What's with that?