[The screen fades into the broadcast, and we open with... ______ __ __ ____ ____ __ _____ __ __ /\__ _\ /\ \ __/\ \/\ _`\ / /\ \ __/\ \/\ __`\/\ \ __/\ \ ™ \/_/\ \/ \ \ \/\ \ \ \ \ \_\_\ / /\ \ \/\ \ \ \ \ \/\ \ \ \/\ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ _\/ / / \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \_\ \__\ \ \_/ \_\ \ \ \/ / / \ \ \_/ \_\ \ \ \_\ \ \ \_/ \_\ \ /\_____\\ `\_______/\ \_\/_/ \ `\_______/\ \_____\ `\_______/ \/_____/ '\/__//__/ \/_/_/ '\/__//__/ \/_____/'\/__//__/ The I/W emblem evaporates around the tag team titles. As "Christmas Eve (Sarajevo)" by The Transiberan Orchestra begins, a digitally created flurry of light snow trickles down the screen. The ghostly reflection of Justin Arcola forms across the gold plate of the left belt. His voice, though not relevant to the image, bleeds through the music.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: With every beating that I take, bounce back from, emerge victorious against, I become just a little bit stronger. The value of this title goes up. The prestige of our organization goes up ... [As he speaks, another spectre roams through the face of the right belt.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: I am a force of nature, I cannot be stopped ... They have all been tested and found wanting ... [That of "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock. He, too, has a voice to be heard.] BILLY ROCK: Hi ... JUSTIN ARCOLA: What do you want? [The pair of championships draw closer to one another, and as the face on each belt,from the neck up, turns to face his counterpart, the prizes meld into one. Billy and Justin are now nose to nose on the cover of the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Title. The snow falls a bit faster. The orchestra plays harder.] BILLY ROCK: What do you _think_ I want? You're standing out here, right in the middle of a crowd of people who chant my name every week, telling them that your parade is out of the rain ... [The gold reflection in the belt shows Billy and Justin standing toe to toe from Mayhem three weeks ago.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: I HAVE BEATEN EVERY SINGLE MAN THERE IS TO BEAT! BILLY ROCK: I want you to take another look around ... I want you to look _harder_ ... I want you to look _closer_ ... I want you to look _right here_ ... [As the music intensifies, images of their past conflicts begin to flicker across the plate, accelerated or slowed down to adhere to the flow of the music. The snow falls harder, beginning to show a faint tint of red in some of the flakes.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: I've never ducked anyone, and everyone that's dared to throw their gauntlet down in my ring has been destroyed! Everyone, that is, except you. [The two warriors circle one another inside a cage like lions, their very first encounter. Flicker to Billy pummeling Arcola in the turnbuckles with his fists. Snap to Billy hurling Arcola into the cage by a handful of hair, the momentum turns Justin's body vertical in mid-flight and carries him face first into the cage. JUSTIN ARCOLA: There is one man in this business ... and _only_ one man ... [In the War For Territory 2, Arcola german suplexes Billy into an exposed steel turnbuckle, busting open the back of his head. Arcola tortures Billy with a Canadian crossface as a touch of insanity twinkles in his eyes.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: ... who has ever, _ever_ pinned my shoulders to the mat. _One_ man has shown that he has what it takes to defeat me ... [Billy dumps a bucket of glue over Arcola's head and proceeds to dunk it in another bucket full of glass. Snap to Billy, only moments later, delivering the Cutting Edge to Arcola's glass covered face on a steel chair.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: ... and his name just happens to be Billy Godd*mn Rock. BILLY ROCK: Whenever you're ready, Justin. Whenever _you're_ ready. [While both men stand atop a ladder, Billy shoves Arcola's head between his legs. As he attempts a powerbomb the ladder loses it's footing and teeters forward, sending both men through the broadcast table.] Jack Anderson: ... pain has ceased to mean anything at this point ... [Billy throws his tag team title into the aisle in slo-mo.] BILLY ROCK: You'd give your heart and soul for your half of this. I know you would ... I wouldn't give a fist full of razorblades for it, and I damn sure won't give my pride ... [Arcola's face flinches eerily, a stone gaze of lunacy etched into his face.] Jack Anderson: You do _not_ - no matter what - you do _not_ disgrace a wrestling championship belt when Justin Arcola is around, and damn sure not right in front of is face ... JUSTIN ARCOLA: I will give you five seconds ... _five seconds_ to do the right thing and pick up that belt. And ride the way to the future alongside your partner, the world heavyweight champion ... [The drum is beat particularly hard as Billy cracks his knuckles across Arcola's jaw, bringing him to one knee.] BILLY ROCK: RIDE THE WAY TO THE FUTURE? How about that swim you took through _my_ sweat and blood to get to hook at tag team title around your shoulder! [The pace, rhythm, and beat of the music intensifies. Quicker, harder. Clips of Arcola and Rock furiously trading punches. Snap to Arcola stomping Billy's head into the steel steps. Snap to Billy nearly disfiguring Arcola with a narrowly misplaced fireball. Snap to Arcola holding a knife to Billy's neck, who is strapped to a crucifix.] BILLY ROCK: Look at me ... DO YOU KNOW WHO THE F*CK I AM?! [The snow accumulates around the world title, heavily tinted in blotches of red now. The reflections in the belt rapidly change.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: You're a man who just signed his own death warrant. [Billy backdrops Arcola over the top rope. Snap to Arcola cracking him over the head with his Louisville Slugger as Billy attempts to pin Matthew Reason. Snap to Arcola being caught in Desert Scorpion's scorpion deathlock as he pokes his head through the ropes, sweat dripping off his nose as he and Billy stare one another in the eyes.] BILLY ROCK: I AM THE _NUMBER ONE CONTENDER_ TO THE IWF/WOW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE! Jim Robson: My God! [Arcola german suplexes Billy over the top rope. Snap to Billy leaping off the exterior of the second turnbuckle, driving Arcola head first through a table.] BILLY ROCK: And I'll see _you_ at Christmas Madness ... Jim Robson: BILLY ROCK THROWS DOWN HIS HALF OF THE TAG TEAM TITLES AND CHALLENGES JUSTIN ARCOLA FOR THE WORLD TITLE! IT'S ALL GOING DOWN AT CHRISTMAS MADNESS ... YOU _CANNOT_ MISS THIS ONE! [The final image is that of Billy speaking to Justin from over his shoulder.] BILLY ROCK: I'm closer than you ever imagined. [Music wanes as now a mixture of melting snow flakes and blood rolls down the world title.] [fade] ========================================================================= CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 ========================================================================= The IWF/WOW Presents... ___ [MAIN EVENT! WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE MATCH!] ( _`\ Justin Arcola vs "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock | ( (_) | | _ [INTERCONTINENTAL TITLE - TOWEL MATCH] | (_( ) "Suicidal" Nate McManis vs Robert d'Artois (____/' HRISTMAS [FORMER TAG TEAM PARTNERS FACE OFF!] /'\_/`\ Razor Ron Jeremy vs "the Headliner" Shane St. Clair | | | (_) | [GRUDGE MATCH!] | | | | "Epic" Eric Travers vs Matthew Reason (_) (_) MADNESS _____ [NORTH AMERICAN TITLE - BACK ALLEY MATCH!] ( ___) Damian Malcolm & the Prophet vs Maverick | (__ | _ `\ [WORLD TAG TEAM TITLES - TAG TEAM TURMOIL!] | (_) | FEATURING: Down South Connection, the Boys Next Door, `\___/' Xtreme Measures, Men in Black, America's Least Wanted and Professional Pain [GRUDGE MATCH!] Mitchell Davis vs "Striking" Shane Sanders ==================================== American Colonials shortly following passage of the Intolerable Acts. Jim Robson: What are you, Justin Arcola all of the sudden? Justin Arcola: No, _I_ am! Jack Anderson: WHAAAA!!! Jim Robson: Where did you come from? How did you get here? Justin Arcola: Wait! How _did_ I get here? Where am I? Jack Anderson: I don't know! Justin Arcola: Well, then I'd better get going. Jack Anderson: AAHHH! He's gone again! He disappeared! What just happened? Jim Robson: I don't know... anyway... [Sanders gets caught in a waist lock, but makes a standing switch. He lifts Davis up in the air...] Jim Robson: GERMAN SUPLEX BY SHANE SANDERS!!! He bridges into a pin! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . KICK-OUT BY DAVIS!!! Jack Anderson: Who ever heard of a Pay Per View with four feature matches anyway? What are we, Starcade 2000? Jim Robson: What in blazes are you babbling about? Jack Anderson (after a minute): I'm not really sure... someone's playing with my dialogue again. BRING ME THE HEAD OF THE WRITERS! Jim Robson: Shane Sanders applies a rear chinlock... and we apologize for this botched opening to this Pay Per View, but we promise to get better as the night goes on. Jack Anderson: This match has slowed down some... maybe these two should have come into tonight with some STRATEGIES!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Jim Robson: As Jack Anderson breaks kayfabe once _again_...Cooper Concrete cheers on Shane Sanders as Mitchell Davis tries to fight to his feet. Jack Anderson: Ooohhh.... I feel woozy, Jim. You'd better take over for a bit. Jim Robson: Did you have too many maitais? Damn it, Jack! The catering is for _after_ the show! [Mitchell Davis shoots off the side headlock and shoves Sanders into the ropes. Davis hits Sanders with a high flipping dropkick.] Jim Robson: BIG-TIME DROPKICK! _That_ got the crowd to their feet! Jack Anderson: Nah, they're just taking a trip to the concession stand. Jim Robson: Davis shoots Sanders into the corner...charges in...AND SANDERS MOVES OUT OF THE WAY! Sanders places Davis on the top rope...could be time for the Shane-Plex! NO! DAVIS SHOVES HIM OFF THE ROPE AND SANDERS HITS THE MAT!!! Davis perches high on the turnbuckle...TOP ROPE LEGDROP BY DAVIS!!! THE COVER! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . NO! SANDERS KICKS OUT! Jack Anderson: Of course he did! Davis is a cruiserweight; that probably felt like a mosquito bite to Sanders! Jim Robson: Davis setting up Sanders in a facelock... RUNS....LEAPS....THE DAVISTATOR!!! SANDERS FELT THAT ONE!!! DAVIS MAKES THE COVER! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!! *** DING DING DING *** FRANCINE: Here is your winner... "THE PURIST" MITCHELL DAVIS!!! Jim Robson: Mitchell Davis picks up an impressive win tonight over Shane Sanders! Jack Anderson: OK, I'm gonna take a nap for a while. Wake me when the show starts. Jim Robson: You ass. [We cut to backstage. We see Anthony Edwards walking up to Damian, who is lacing his boots up. The Prophet is standing next to him and Celeste is sitting down eating a peanut butter bagel.] Anthony Edwards: Damian, this is your first official PPV defending an IWF/WoW title. Your last PPV appearance, you suffered a loss at the hands of Co-President Jurkschat... Damian Malcolm: You know what, we can go one night without hearing that name. I have my issues with Jurkschat, but that's another time. Tonight, Maverick has the opportunity to win the North American title. [Damian pauses.] Damian Malcolm: Maverick, tonight, the odds are against you. Not only do you have to defeat two of the Aristocracy's best, but you have to deal with the rest of the Aristocracy as well. You have Robert d'Artois, Xtreme Measures, and the French Entourage. Maverick, you signed your death warrant, and tonight you wrote a cheque that your ass can't cash. Anthony Edwards: Damian, with so much going for you here tonight, don't you think that Maverick might slip by with a victory?? I mean, Maverick doesn't have to pin you to win the title. Damian Malcolm: That's true. There's always that chance, but Prophet and I are smarter than that, and tonight we will prove that, no matter what. Anthony Edwards: Any last comments before your first PPV defence?? Damian Malcolm: There's a lot riding on this match here tonight. I've got everything I have invested in this match. I remember five years ago, that my appearance at this PPV was my last for the IWF/WoW, but tonight, a fate like that won't happen, and to make sure, the UA has invested into an Insurance Policy. Anthony Edwards: What do you mean?? Damian Malcolm: Well... the NA title is staying right where it is... and that's the BOTTOM LiNE!! [As Malcolm walks away, Xtreme Measures enter the scene.] Anthony Edwards: Hey Dalton... Hey Grant... could we get a word with you boys?? [Grant and Dalton walk up to Edwards.] Peter Grant: Hey Tony, what's up?? We've got a match to fight, dude. Make it quick... Anthony Edwards: What kind of special surprises can we expect from Xtreme Measures here tonight?? Peter Grant: Well, it's no secret that America's Ugliest Morons are going to get their asses kicked in just a few moments. And it's no secret that tonight, Xtreme Measures are looking to make their mark in the huge Tag Team division. Anthony Edwards: What about America's Least Wanted?? Peter Grant: Now, here are a couple of boys who go around hanging on to their former glory. They were a great tag team so many years ago, and now like the Road Warriors, they stay to long at the dance. Tonight, they won't be molesting old ladies are wearing their mother's undergarments, they will be face to face with Xtreme Measures, the most hardcore tag team in the IWF/WoW. Anthony Edwards: There are other great tag teams in this match: the Men In Black, and the Down South Connection. There's a team you haven't defeated yet. Peter Grant: By the end of the night, those imbreeders will be on their knees begging us not to kick their asses. The Men In Black?? An impressive team, I must say, find a new name. Damn, some wrestlers have no originality when it comes to choosing their gimmicks. Anthony Edwards: Dalton, any surprises that you have in store for tonight's tag match?? [Dalton smiles.] SMACK!! [Dalton kicked Edwards in the mid section.] WHAM!! [...And nailed him with the Hangover (Stunner.)] Edward Dalton: SURPRISE!! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA [Dalton and Grant walk out toward the ring.] [Cut to a shot of one of the Fleet Center's many dressing rooms. We see the IWF/WOW's resident robed sexagenarian The Gate Keeper and his rascally right hand man The Gimp standing alongside Dagger, aka one half of the Men in Black, who's leaning against the wall, frowning slightly and rubbing his forehead. The Gate Keeper stares at The Gimp, shaking his head...] The Gate Keeper: I can't believe this is happening, Gimp! This was supposed to be the biggest night of the boys' careers! Everyone had them pegged as the next IWF/WOW World Tag Team Champions! Now look at what's going on! Damn Xtreme Measures and what they did at Rage! Damn them straight to HELL! The Gimp: All is not lost, boss. Don't give up hope just yet! [The Gate Keeper points over at Dagger, bellowing excitedly at The Gimp...] The Gate Keeper: Don't give up hope? How can I not give up hope? HE is in no condition to compete tonight... not after that horrid chairshot he was given a few days ago! Those buffoons nearly caved his head in with that chair... and how about the side effects? Good Lord, Gimp! How do you expect him to compete in tonight's match in his current condition??? [The Gimp grabs The Gate Keeper by the arm and leads him to the opposite corner of the room, where they continue speaking privately...] The Gimp: Boss, I think Dag is perfectly capable of competing in tonight's Tag Team Turmoil match... despite the... uhhh... behavioral modifications that he sustained as a rest of that chairshot. [The Gate Keeper's eyes go wide...] The Gate Keeper: Behavioral modifications? Gimp... HE THINKS HE'S A FRIGGIN' DOG! [Dagger barks at The Gate Keeper, prompting The Gimp to run over and admonish him with a light swat on the nose!] The Gimp: SIT DOWN, DAGGER! [Dagger yelps and leans back against the wall. The Gate Keeper resumes speaking...] The Gate Keeper: I rest my case! [The Gimp shrugs...] The Gimp: I still don't understand why you think he's unfit to wrestle tonight. It's not like he's injured. [The Gate Keeper rolls his eyes...] The Gate Keeper: You don't understand? Okay, let me put it to you this way. Do you want the boys' big pay-per-view debut to consist of Dagger humping the referee's leg like a schnauzer in heat... or how about if he decided to relieve himself on the timekeeper's leg? Or... how about this, Gimp... what if he goes out there and bites President Jurkschat's ass? That'd REALLY earn us a lot of points! You see, as much as I want to see the boys capture those titles, I don't want them to look like fools out there! [The Gimp sighs...] The Gimp: What if Jayson goes out there by himself? [The Gate Keeper scowls at The Gimp...] The Gate Keeper: Jayson against FIVE other teams BY HIMSELF? Do you WANT the poor boy to get slaughtered? The World Tag Team Titles are important... don't get me wrong... but I don't think having Jayson go into the match on his own is a wise move. Besides... I don't even know where he is. I haven't seen him since we got here. He took off like a bat out of hell! [The Gimp rubs his chin, pondering to himself for a moment...] The Gimp: Well, on our way here, he DID say something about finding Damian Malcolm. I think he believes that he was behind what Xtreme Measures did at Rage. The Gate Keeper: Well, that wouldn't surprise me. From what I've gathered thus far, Malcolm is a particularly bothersome little twit who can't seem to keep his nose out of other people's business. I wouldn't be surprised if he sent Xtreme Measures out just for the hell of it. The Gimp: I think we should find Jayson before he gets in over his head. The World Tag Team Titles can wait. [The Gate Keeper nods his head...] The Gate Keeper: I agree. We need to find Jayson before he wanders into the lion's den all alone. [The Gate Keeper turns to face Dagger...] You better come with us... but BEHAVE! Understand? [Dagger grits his teeth and growls at The Gate Keeper...] The Gimp: Hang on, boss. I think I know how to handle this. [The Gimp reaches into his back pocket to retrieve a dog biscuit. He waves it in front of Dagger...] Here, Dagger! Be a good boy and you'll get a treat! [The mere sight of the treat causes Dagger to calm down and "heel" at the side of The Gimp...] [The Gate Keeper groans...] The Gate Keeper: Good grief! Barbara Woodhouse is rolling over in her grave right now. [We fade back to ringside, waiting for our next match...] ========================================================================= CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 ========================================================================= Jim Robson: You know, Jack, as if this night wasn't going to get out of hand already with "Epic" Eric Travers facing Matthew Reason, "Suicidal" Nate McMannis defending the intercontinental title against Robert d'Artois in a barbed wire-commissioner's rules towel match, and Justin Arcola putting the world championship on the line against "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock, we have to go and contribute to it all with the chaos that's about to surface. Jack Anderson: The only difference that old-timer makes anymore is a 0.1 point drop in our Neilsen ratings. Jim Robson: Will someone unplug this man's microphone already? [Sanders and Davis circle each other in the ring.] Jim Robson: _Stiff_ collar-and-elbow tie up! Davis and Sanders look like two bull rams locking horns here! Davis with a hammerlock! Sanders reverses it into one of his own! Sanders slaps on a side headlock...Davis shoots him into the ropes...Shoulderblock by Davis sends Sanders to the canvas! Davis into the ropes again...Sanders ducks under a clothesline...boots Davis in the midsection...Irish whip, no! Reversed by Davis! Davis catches a boot to the face from Sanders! Sanders with an Irish whip...hip toss...no...blocked by Davis! Davis with a shot to the gut...hooks a leg over Sanders's head and flips over Sanders! But Sanders hits him with a back elbow to the face! Sanders whips Davis toward the turnbuckle...no! Reversed by Davis! Sanders tips up in the turnbuckle over Davis! Rolls up Davis from behind! Davis kicks out after 1! Both men to their feet...Arm drag by Devonshire! Arm drag by Davis! [The pace has gotten incredibly fast by this point. After Davis's arm drag, he and Devonshire pop up to their feet at the same time and both men hesitate, stopping the momentum for a second. The crowd pops HUGE!] Jim Robson: What an exchange! I _told_ you this match would be exciting. Jack Anderson: Big deal...I saw almost the exact same thing in the Falls Count Anywhere match at Halloween MAYHEM. Jim Robson: How would you remem- never mind, I don't want to know. Another tie-up! Davis forcing Sanders back into the corner...the ref's calling for a break...KNIFE EDGE CHOP! Crowd: WOOOO!!! Jim Robson: And another! Crowd: WOOOO!!! Jim Robson: And a third! Crowd: WOOOO!!! Jack Anderson: Random trivia fact #346: The phrase, "Don't Tread on Me" was an expression originally used by American Colonials shortly following passage of the Intolerable Acts. Jim Robson: What are you, Justin Arcola all of the sudden? Justin Arcola: No, _I_ am! Jack Anderson: WHAAAA!!! Jim Robson: Where did you come from? How did you get here? Justin Arcola: Wait! How _did_ I get here? Where am I? Jack Anderson: I don't know! Justin Arcola: Well, then I'd better get going. Jack Anderson: AAHHH! He's gone again! He disappeared! What just happened? Jim Robson: I don't know... anyway... [Sanders gets caught in a waist lock, but makes a standing switch. He lifts Davis up in the air...] Jim Robson: GERMAN SUPLEX BY SHANE SANDERS!!! He bridges into a pin! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . KICK-OUT BY DAVIS!!! Jack Anderson: Who ever heard of a Pay Per View with four feature matches anyway? What are we, Starcade 2000? Jim Robson: What in blazes are you babbling about? Jack Anderson (after a minute): I'm not really sure... someone's playing with my dialogue again. BRING ME THE HEAD OF THE WRITERS! Jim Robson: Shane Sanders applies a rear chinlock... and we apologize for this botched opening to this Pay Per View, but we promise to get better as the night goes on. Jack Anderson: This match has slowed down some... maybe these two should have come into tonight with some STRATEGIES!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Jim Robson: As Jack Anderson breaks kayfabe once _again_...Cooper Concrete cheers on Shane Sanders as Mitchell Davis tries to fight to his feet. Jack Anderson: Ooohhh.... I feel woozy, Jim. You'd better take over for a bit. Jim Robson: Did you have too many maitais? Damn it, Jack! The catering is for _after_ the show! [Mitchell Davis shoots off the side headlock and shoves Sanders into the ropes. Davis hits Sanders with a high flipping dropkick.] Jim Robson: BIG-TIME DROPKICK! _That_ got the crowd to their feet! Jack Anderson: Nah, they're just taking a trip to the concession stand. Jim Robson: Davis shoots Sanders into the corner...charges in...AND SANDERS MOVES OUT OF THE WAY! Sanders places Davis on the top rope...could be time for the Shane-Plex! NO! DAVIS SHOVES HIM OFF THE ROPE AND SANDERS HITS THE MAT!!! Davis perches high on the turnbuckle...TOP ROPE LEGDROP BY DAVIS!!! THE COVER! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . NO! SANDERS KICKS OUT! Jack Anderson: Of course he did! Davis is a cruiserweight; that probably felt like a mosquito bite to Sanders! Jim Robson: Davis setting up Sanders in a facelock... RUNS....LEAPS....THE DAVISTATOR!!! SANDERS FELT THAT ONE!!! DAVIS MAKES THE COVER! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!! *** DING DING DING *** FRANCINE: Here is your winner... "THE PURIST" MITCHELL DAVIS!!! Jim Robson: Mitchell Davis picks up an impressive win tonight over Shane Sanders! Jack Anderson: OK, I'm gonna take a nap for a while. Wake me when the show starts. Jim Robson: You ass. [We cut to backstage. We see Anthony Edwards walking up to Damian, who is lacing his boots up. The Prophet is standing next to him and Celeste is sitting down eating a peanut butter bagel.] Anthony Edwards: Damian, this is your first official PPV defending an IWF/WoW title. Your last PPV appearance, you suffered a loss at the hands of Co-President Jurkschat... Damian Malcolm: You know what, we can go one night without hearing that name. I have my issues with Jurkschat, but that's another time. Tonight, Maverick has the opportunity to win the North American title. [Damian pauses.] Damian Malcolm: Maverick, tonight, the odds are against you. Not only do you have to defeat two of the Aristocracy's best, but you have to deal with the rest of the Aristocracy as well. You have Robert d'Artois, Xtreme Measures, and the French Entourage. Maverick, you signed your death warrant, and tonight you wrote a cheque that your ass can't cash. Anthony Edwards: Damian, with so much going for you here tonight, don't you think that Maverick might slip by with a victory?? I mean, Maverick doesn't have to pin you to win the title. Damian Malcolm: That's true. There's always that chance, but Prophet and I are smarter than that, and tonight we will prove that, no matter what. Anthony Edwards: Any last comments before your first PPV defence?? Damian Malcolm: There's a lot riding on this match here tonight. I've got everything I have invested in this match. I remember five years ago, that my appearance at this PPV was my last for the IWF/WoW, but tonight, a fate like that won't happen, and to make sure, the UA has invested into an Insurance Policy. Anthony Edwards: What do you mean?? Damian Malcolm: Well... the NA title is staying right where it is... and that's the BOTTOM LiNE!! [As Malcolm walks away, Xtreme Measures enter the scene.] Anthony Edwards: Hey Dalton... Hey Grant... could we get a word with you boys?? [Grant and Dalton walk up to Edwards.] Peter Grant: Hey Tony, what's up?? We've got a match to fight, dude. Make it quick... Anthony Edwards: What kind of special surprises can we expect from Xtreme Measures here tonight?? Peter Grant: Well, it's no secret that America's Ugliest Morons are going to get their asses kicked in just a few moments. And it's no secret that tonight, Xtreme Measures are looking to make their mark in the huge Tag Team division. Anthony Edwards: What about America's Least Wanted?? Peter Grant: Now, here are a couple of boys who go around hanging on to their former glory. They were a great tag team so many years ago, and now like the Road Warriors, they stay to long at the dance. Tonight, they won't be molesting old ladies are wearing their mother's undergarments, they will be face to face with Xtreme Measures, the most hardcore tag team in the IWF/WoW. Anthony Edwards: There are other great tag teams in this match: the Men In Black, and the Down South Connection. There's a team you haven't defeated yet. Peter Grant: By the end of the night, those imbreeders will be on their knees begging us not to kick their asses. The Men In Black?? An impressive team, I must say, find a new name. Damn, some wrestlers have no originality when it comes to choosing their gimmicks. Anthony Edwards: Dalton, any surprises that you have in store for tonight's tag match?? [Dalton smiles.] SMACK!! [Dalton kicked Edwards in the mid section.] WHAM!! [...And nailed him with the Hangover (Stunner.)] Edward Dalton: SURPRISE!! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA [Dalton and Grant walk out toward the ring.] [Cut to a shot of one of the Fleet Center's many dressing rooms. We see the IWF/WOW's resident robed sexagenarian The Gate Keeper and his rascally right hand man The Gimp standing alongside Dagger, aka one half of the Men in Black, who's leaning against the wall, frowning slightly and rubbing his forehead. The Gate Keeper stares at The Gimp, shaking his head...] The Gate Keeper: I can't believe this is happening, Gimp! This was supposed to be the biggest night of the boys' careers! Everyone had them pegged as the next IWF/WOW World Tag Team Champions! Now look at what's going on! Damn Xtreme Measures and what they did at Rage! Damn them straight to HELL! The Gimp: All is not lost, boss. Don't give up hope just yet! [The Gate Keeper points over at Dagger, bellowing excitedly at The Gimp...] The Gate Keeper: Don't give up hope? How can I not give up hope? HE is in no condition to compete tonight... not after that horrid chairshot he was given a few days ago! Those buffoons nearly caved his head in with that chair... and how about the side effects? Good Lord, Gimp! How do you expect him to compete in tonight's match in his current condition??? [The Gimp grabs The Gate Keeper by the arm and leads him to the opposite corner of the room, where they continue speaking privately...] The Gimp: Boss, I think Dag is perfectly capable of competing in tonight's Tag Team Turmoil match... despite the... uhhh... behavioral modifications that he sustained as a rest of that chairshot. [The Gate Keeper's eyes go wide...] The Gate Keeper: Behavioral modifications? Gimp... HE THINKS HE'S A FRIGGIN' DOG! [Dagger barks at The Gate Keeper, prompting The Gimp to run over and admonish him with a light swat on the nose!] The Gimp: SIT DOWN, DAGGER! [Dagger yelps and leans back against the wall. The Gate Keeper resumes speaking...] The Gate Keeper: I rest my case! [The Gimp shrugs...] The Gimp: I still don't understand why you think he's unfit to wrestle tonight. It's not like he's injured. [The Gate Keeper rolls his eyes...] The Gate Keeper: You don't understand? Okay, let me put it to you this way. Do you want the boys' big pay-per-view debut to consist of Dagger humping the referee's leg like a schnauzer in heat... or how about if he decided to relieve himself on the timekeeper's leg? Or... how about this, Gimp... what if he goes out there and bites President Jurkschat's ass? That'd REALLY earn us a lot of points! You see, as much as I want to see the boys capture those titles, I don't want them to look like fools out there! [The Gimp sighs...] The Gimp: What if Jayson goes out there by himself? [The Gate Keeper scowls at The Gimp...] The Gate Keeper: Jayson against FIVE other teams BY HIMSELF? Do you WANT the poor boy to get slaughtered? The World Tag Team Titles are important... don't get me wrong... but I don't think having Jayson go into the match on his own is a wise move. Besides... I don't even know where he is. I haven't seen him since we got here. He took off like a bat out of hell! [The Gimp rubs his chin, pondering to himself for a moment...] The Gimp: Well, on our way here, he DID say something about finding Damian Malcolm. I think he believes that he was behind what Xtreme Measures did at Rage. The Gate Keeper: Well, that wouldn't surprise me. From what I've gathered thus far, Malcolm is a particularly bothersome little twit who can't seem to keep his nose out of other people's business. I wouldn't be surprised if he sent Xtreme Measures out just for the hell of it. The Gimp: I think we should find Jayson before he gets in over his head. The World Tag Team Titles can wait. [The Gate Keeper nods his head...] The Gate Keeper: I agree. We need to find Jayson before he wanders into the lion's den all alone. [The Gate Keeper turns to face Dagger...] You better come with us... but BEHAVE! Understand? [Dagger grits his teeth and growls at The Gate Keeper...] The Gimp: Hang on, boss. I think I know how to handle this. [The Gimp reaches into his back pocket to retrieve a dog biscuit. He waves it in front of Dagger...] Here, Dagger! Be a good boy and you'll get a treat! [The mere sight of the treat causes Dagger to calm down and "heel" at the side of The Gimp...] [The Gate Keeper groans...] The Gate Keeper: Good grief! Barbara Woodhouse is rolling over in her grave right now. [We fade back to ringside, waiting for our next match...] ========================================================================= CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 ========================================================================= Jim Robson: You know, Jack, as if this night wasn't going to get out of hand already with "Epic" Eric Travers facing Matthew Reason, "Suicidal" Nate McMannis defending the intercontinental title against Robert d'Artois in a barbed wire-commissioner's rules towel match, and Justin Arcola putting the world championship on the line against "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock, we have to go and contribute to it all with the chaos that's about to surface. Jack Anderson: A ha. You're talking about the tag team turmoil match to fill the vacant tag team championships. Jim Robson: Exactly. Vacated two weeks ago when Billy Rock threw his title to the floor as a means to get under Justin Arcola's skin, the belts will be taken home tonight. The question is, by who? Jack Anderson: How about the Down South Connection? They're former champions and they've looked a lot like contenders since they've come back from hiatus. Jim Robson: Yeah, they sure looked like contenders when they lost to MY PICK, the Boys Next Door, didn't they? Jack Anderson: I want NO LIP FROM YOU, ROBSON! Jim Robson: Yeah yeah. There are many other tag teams involved in this match, including Amercia's Least Wanted, Men In Black ... Jack Anderson: Xtreme Measures, ProPain ... Jim Robson: And rumor even has it that a brand new tag team will debut tonight and drop their hats in the race for these belts. My sources haven't been able to deliver the details though. This team is shrouded in mystery so far. But maybe the sooner we start this match the sooner the veil will be lifted, so let's send it on over to Francine. [Francine stands in the ring.] ________ ________ / ____/ |/ / ___/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 -=-=-=-=-=- / / / /|_/ / __ \ WORLD TAG TEAM TITLES MATCH / /___/ / / / /_/ / Tag Team Turmoil \____/_/ /_/\____/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 -=-=-=-=-=- ----------------------------> WRITER: Brian <----------------------------- FRANCINE: Ladies and gentlemen ... the following is a TAG TEAM TURMOIL MATCH! It is for the vacant IWF/WOW WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP!!! [POP!!!] [All of the sudden the lights in the arena go from there normal bright white to an almost erie dark blue. "Killers Are Quiet" intro begins to play over the PA as all of the sudden all of the lights in the arena go off.] [The crowd in the arena is in almost utter silence as they dont know what to think of this. All of the sudden two huge blue spotlights hit the entrance ramp and there are two men standing there. The two men are both members of the "Down South Connection", "The New Legend" Kenneth Morlock and "The Expert" Matt Allen. ] [Morlock is wearing his blue leg tights that read "NEW" across the butt of them and "LEGEND" along both legs. He also has on a pair of blue wrestling boots with the letters "DSC" on them. Allen is wearing his black and bluewrestling tights that read "Expert" down the left and the right leg. He also has on a pair of blue boots that read "DSC" on both of them. Both men are carrying microphones.] ["Down South Connection" are met with a hail of boo's and jeers as they now begin there walk to the ring. Both men are laughing and chuckling at the fans who are almost throwing themselves over the rail to get a touch of them. Morlock and Allen make it to the ring and both climb the ring steps. Morlock steps into the ring first under the top rope and then Allen steps right over the top. Both men begin to smile deviously as they await the crowd to hush down before they speak. The crowd continues the booing and jeering for a few more moments before finally coming down to there senses. Morlock then raises the microphone to his lips.] KENNETH MORLOCK: You know frankly it has gotten to a point where maybe you all should finally realize, that we do not give a flying flip if you like us or not. We are here tonight for one reason and one reason only. THE IWFWOW TAG TEAM TITLES. [The crowd in the arena begins to let out a horrific amount of booing at the mention of Down South Connection becoming possible tag team champions.] MATT ALLEN: First off, Arcola, let the dream die man! You cannot hang on to our titles any longer. You may be letting the success of being a tag champ go to your head, and this is totally understandable, but let the dream die. You as one man, will never be half the man it takes to carry one of those belts, let alone both. So go ahead and take the titles to Jurkschat and make us all real happy. Because trust me, I would hate to come looking for you before your big match tonight with "Captain IWFWOW" Billy Rock. KENNETH MORLOCK: We know Arcola is not on some kind of death wish, he will do the right thing. So now we should just turn our attention to what is tonight. In a match that is billed "Tag Team Turmoil". Explain to me exactly what is so confusing about this match. Six teams, one pair of titles, and us as the winners. What could be more not confusing? I mean we just mapped out the match. Put the big money down on DSC and be totally rewarded in the end is all I can say! MATT ALLEN: Hell, that damn sure aint all I can say. Once again Boy's Next Door have yet another parody that pits themselves as some kind of funny guy's here in IWFWOW. Well, Boy's Next Door, let me be the one to tell you, tonight, in this match, the joke will be on no one but yourselves. The bullshit will be set aside and the ass whoopings will commence. Ass whoopings that will be thoughroully directed at you two. And after it is all said and done, all those little kids you had in your promo can come and give you nice little get well soon cards. KENNETH MORLOCK: You know with Boy's Next Door it just goes to show one more time what we have said over and over. Massive Molestation. But now they are starting to take the route there were pushed down. I expect Jurkschat gets a couple calls from a few angry parents soon when they find out that there little boys were "touched" by a Bullfrog and by an Angel. MATT ALLEN: Hey, maybe Xile, I mean Xtreme Cock Sucker's will take them out before the match. They have been attacking Bitches Next Door lately. KENNETH MORLOCK: What the hell? How can you call anything they do an attack? Do you remember the racoons? No one will EVER take them two boy's seriously again. Not that anyone really did before. But it is damn sure now that they wont. Maybe with the name change you should have went with a home change and maybe picked up a few skills because when you step into this ring tonight. It will be like the same old beating from DSC to Xile. MATT ALLEN: But trust me Xile. The beating will not stop there. America's Least Wanted and Pro Pain will also take some of that beating as well. And we damn sure can't leave out Men in Black. They also will be taking a couple size fifteen's up the ass from this one as we walk away tonight once again YOUR IWFWOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS! Jim Robson: Interesting comments from the Down South Connection. We all know that Justin Arcola still has those belts in his possession. It'll be interesting to see if he relinquishes them to the winners tonight. ["Never Let You Go" by K3rd Eye Blind hits the speakers as Professional Pain, composed of Joe "Da Flow" Ferrari and Big Casino, make their way to the ring.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Long Beach, California, USA, standing6 feet 6 inches and weighing 270 pounds, here is ... JOE "DA FLOW" FERRARI!!! And his partner ... Hailing from from Dublin, Ireland, standing 5 feet 6 inches and weighing 300 pounds, here is ... BIG CASINO!!! They are ... P R O F F E S S I O N A L P A I N ! ! ! [Joe appears first, flanked on either side by beautiful ladies. Joe pauses and showboats the crowd as Big Casino appears behind the group, adjusting his gloves and shades. The pair make their way to the ring. Casino tests the ropes while the ladies remove Ferrari's coat in the center of the ring. The crowd continues to cheer as the music dies down.] ["Everything About You" by Ugly Kid Joe begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd boos.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Los Angeles, California standing 6 feet and 1 inch and weighing 225 pounds, here is ... JOE KIDD!!! And his partner ... Hailing from Detroit, Michigan standing 6 feet 10 inches and weighing 275 pounds, here is ... OCTANE!!! They are ... A M E R I C A ' S L E A S T W A N T E D ! ! ! [Kidd and Octane walk to the ring confidently. Kidd has shoulder length dirty blond hair and has a five o'clock shadow. He looks to have lost some weight on his muscular body. Kidd is wearing knee long black denim shorts and black boots.Octane is a tall, muscular man with shoulder length dark brown hair and is unshaven. He is wearing black leather pants.] ["I'm too Sexy" by Right Said Fred begins to play over the loudspeakers, and the crowd cheers loudly]. FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from the great state of Wyoming ... "BULLFROG" GARRETT JAX ... "ANGEL" SAMMY GRIFFINN ... ... T H E B O Y S N E X T D O O R ! ! ! [The curtain is ripped aside and out shoot two men racing to the ring. The larger of the two, Bullfrog, is wearing his usual purple western wrangler shirt, but it is buttoned to the neck instead of open at the chest. He is wearing his customary blue jeans and snake skin boots, however, his boot tips catch the lights and gleam back. It appears that Jax has steel boot tips. His Stetson blows off his head as he runs to the ring. Jax also appears a little "heavier" or "bulkier" this week. The faster of the two wrestlers, Angel, has already reached the ring and is climbing the turnbuckle. He too is adorned differently, wearing blue and gray urban camouflage pants and a black t-shirt rather then his customary bright color outfit. Gray letters across the back of his black shirt state simply, "Our Time." Sammy is also wearing shiny black combat boots rather then his lime green wrestling shoes. Upon looking again, it appears both are wearing black padded gloves.] ["MINORITY" by GREEN DAY begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd boos loudly.] Francine: About to enter the ring, from Toronto, ON standing 6 feet 1 inches and weighing 225 pounds, here is ... "THE CHRONIC ADDICTION" EDWARD DALTON And his partner ... Standing 6 feet 3 inches and weighing 234 pounds, here is ... "THE GREAT ASH" PETER GRANT They are ... X T R E M E M E A S U R E S ! ! ! [No one answers to the introductions. Grant and Dalton are nowhere to be seen.] Jim Robson: What's going on here? Did Xtreme Measures no-show a TAG TEAM TITLE opportunity? That's smart. Jack Anderson: Give 'em time, Robson. Maybe they're just getting dressed or something. Jim Robson: Okay, well let's go ahead and get on with the introductions then. ["Having An Average Weekend" by Shadowy Men On A Shadowy Planet plays.] FRANCINE: Hailing from Parts Unknown ... standing at a combined weight of 488 pounds ... JAYSON! DAGGER! ... T H E M E N I N B L A C K ! ! ! [All four walk to the ring to a mixed response.] Jim Robson: I thought the Men in Black wern't supposed to be here? Well, there they all are. All six teams in the ring at once. The Boys Next Door and the Down South Connection having some words with each other from across the mat. Joe Kidd of America's Least Wanted talking some trash with Big Casino of ProPain, apparently mocking his size as he points to Octane. Jack Anderson: Where's this new tag team that Jurkschat supposedly signed? Jim Robson: I dunno, but being late for their first day of work isn't going to bode well the co-president. Uh oh, I'm starting to see some tempers flare inside that ring. We may not be waiting for Xtreme Measures anymo-OCTANE BLASTS BIG CASINO WITH A BOOT TO THE FACE THAT KNOCKS HIM CLEAN OVER THE TOP ROPE! And now both of America's Least Wanted have jumped on Joe "Da Flow" Ferrari! DING! DING! DING! Jack Anderson: The Boys Next Door and Down South Connection have met in the center of the ring! All four of them trading furious punches in the thick of it all! Bullfrog and Angel with simultaneous kicks to the stomachs of Allen and Morlock! STEREO DDT'S! Jim Robson: The Men In Black are just standing the corner. Man their outfits give absolutely ZERO clue as to the identity of these guys. I can't even tell their ethnicity! From what I've heard they've gained the reputation of being the most PECULIAR tag team in wrestling history. Jack Anderson: Well Dagger just tapped Jayson on the chest and it looks like they're ready to get involved. They're heading toward America's Least Wanted! [POP!] Jim Robson: HEY! XTREME MEASURES COME OUT OF THE CROWD AND SLIDE INTO THE RING! A PAIR OF CLOTHESLINES FOR THE MEN IN BLACK, AND NOW DALTON AND GRANT HAVE TURNED THEIR ASSAULT ONTO AMERICA'S LEAST WANTED! Jack Anderson: No fun and games with these two tonight! They look like they seriously want to dole out some pain. Jim Robson: Octane and Kidd just rolled out of the ring. AND PETER GRANT VAULTS OVER THE TOP ROPE ONTO JOE KIDD! [CLANG!] Jim Robson: The railing is there to break their fall, and it aint much of a blessing! DALTON SLINGSHOTS OVER THE ROPES ONTO OCTANE! But he's CAUGHT! Octane showing TREMENDOUS POWER a she hoists Dalton up over his head ... [BONG!] Jim Robson: AND DROPS HIM ON THE RING STEPS!! Jack Anderson: The Boys Next Door and Down South Connection cannot be separated in that ring, Jim! "Angel" Sammy Griffin has Kenneth Morlock mounted in the corner and he's pummeling him! Bullfrog and Matt Allen, the bigger of their teams, are tangled in the opposite side of the ring. Jim Robson: Allen STILL has a good five or six inches on Bullfrog, whom he takes by the wrist after a nasty knee to the gut and whips across the ring ... RIGHT INTO BULLFROG'S OWN PARTNER FROM BEHIND!! Angel falls off of Morlock, who drops down, pushes his legs to his shoulders and PUTS HIS FEET ON THE ROPES! 1 . . . 2 . . . NO! Jim Robson: Bulldrog grabbed Morlock by the hair and pulled him off! Matt Allen is promptly on top of Garrett Jax with a flurry of stomps! Jack Anderson: Big Casino and Joe Ferrari have turned the brawl outside the ring with America's Least Wanted and Xtreme Measures into a three way! Jim Robson: Right you are! AND LOOK AT BIG CASINO! HE MAY BE SHORT BUT THE MAN IS ALL OVER OCTANE! HE'S GOT HIM BY THE HAIR, PULLING HIM DOWN TO _HIS_ SIZE AND POUNDS HIM IN THE FACE! Jack Anderson: Ferrari with a bulldog across the ring steps on Edward Dalton! This is SO out of control! Jim Robson: Jayson and Dagger, the Men In Black, are capitalizing on everything the Down South Connection and Boys Next Door have taken out of each other! They've got Sammy Griffin in one corner, stomping him into a mudhole! Across the ring the Down South Connection are working over Garrett Jax! The Boys Next Door are targeted men! Jack Anderson: ProPain are back in the ring and they're going after the Down South Connection! Still outside the ring are Xtreme Measures and America's Least Wanted! Dalton and Grant ... THEY'VE GOT CHAIRS! [BANG!] Jim Robson: DOWN GOES JOE KIDD! [BANG!] Jim Robson: DOWN GOES OCTANE! Dalton jumps on Kidd! Grant jumps on Octane and they are RAINING down closed fists on those two! I think Kidd and Octane are both busted open! Jack Anderson: Joe "Da Flow" just flashed a "J" sign with his hand. He grabs Jayson and spins him around! Jim Robson: THE JOE-PLEX! Big Casino kicks Dagger in the bread basket! DOUBLE ARM DDT! They whip both Men In Black across the ring! FERRARI BACK BODY DROPS JAYSON OVER THE TOP ROPE! Big Casino hurls Dagger into the air! [POP!] Jim Robson: DAGGER COMES BACK DOWN WITH A HURRICARANA! Ferrari makes sure he doesn't capitalize though! He jumps Dagger immediately and tosses him over the top rope. Ferrari turns to check on Big Casino. Jim Robson: MATT ALLEN CLOTHESLINES HIM OVER THE TOP ROPE! Jim Robson: Kenneth Morlock just slid out of the ring to grab one of those chairs that Dalton and Grant used before. He brings it into the ring! [BANG!] Jim Robson: HE JUST BASHED GRIFFIN OVER THE SKULL! [BANG!] Jim Robson: HE CAUGHT JAX TOO! He drops the chair and now he's tying Griffin up in the ropes! Allen picks up Angel and does the same! The Boys Next Door are tied up in the ropes on opposite sides of the ring. Morlock opens up that folding chair and places it halfway between both of them. Jack Anderson: Robson, I think the Down South Connection are about to prove something to the Boys Next Door. Jim Robson: THEY'VE GOT BIG CASINO! Angel and Bullfrog are trying desperately to get out of those ropes! ProPain and the Boys Next Door have developed proffessional respect for one another since arriving in I/W! Jack Anderson: BIG CASINO'S BLOOD IS ON THE BOYS' HANDS! Jim Robson: Don't do it, Morlock! What kind of men are you?! MATT ALLEN ROLLS CASINO ONTO HIS SHOULDERS! MORLOCK CRABS HIS HAIR! [CRANG!!] [GROAN] Jim Robson: AN ASSISTED POWERBOMB ONTO THAT OPENED OUT CHAIR! BIG CASINO IS NOT MOVING! MORLOCK COVERS! 1 . . . Jim Robson: FERRARI SLIDES IN BUT ALLEN CUTS HIM OFF! 2 . . . Jim Robson: GARRETT JAX HAS BROKEN FREE! HE DIVES ONTO MORLOCK! . . . 3!!! FRANCINE: PROFFESSIONAL PAIN HAVE BEENE ELIMINATED!! Jim Robson: Jax is pounding away on Morlock! Sammy Griffin comes loose and goes right after Matt Allen! Ferrari pulls his partner out of the ring and ... oh man. He's waving toward the aisle. And here come the paramedics. Big Casino is in bad shape. [The fans applaud Big Casino as Joe Ferrari follows the paramedics stretchering his partner up the aisle.] Jim Robson: We'll certainly try to keep you updated on Big Casino's condition. His back may not have taken that fall well at all. We wish him well. Jack Anderson: You know, there are five teams left, and we still haven't seen this "new team" Jurkschat signed. Jim Robson: You know I almost forgot about that. We'll just have to keep watching I suppose. Right now we have the Boys Next Door and Down South Connection STILL at each others throats in the ring. On the outside America's Least Wanted have turned the tides on Xtreme Measures. The Men In Black seem have just recovered from the trouble they ran into with ProPain earlier. Jack Anderson: Joe Kidd has Edward Dalton on the top ring step. [POP!!] Jack Anderson: HE GERMAN SUPLEXED HIM ONTO THE FLOOR!! Jim Robson: MY GOD! JOE KID SACRIFICED HIS OWN BODY TO PULL THAT OFF! HE HIT THE STEPS ON THE WAY DOWN! Jack Anderson: But Dalton landed in the corner of the safety railing! Jim Robson: They both took it hard! Kidd is clutching his head with his back on the floor and his legs on the steps. MY GOD!!! [HOLY-SHIT-WHERE'D-THAT-COME-FROM-POP!!!!!] Jack Anderson: WHAT IN THE BRIGHT MORNING WAS THAT?!?! Jim Robson: DAGGER CAME OFF THE RING APRON, OUT OF NOWHERE, AND LANDED ON JOE KIDD WITH A LEGDROP!! THAT WAS ONE OF THE MOST AMAZING THINGS I'VE EVER SEEN! Jack Anderson: But he's grabbing his left thigh! He may have bruised his tailbone doing that! Jim Robson: Jayson just grabbed Octane from behind! Diving reverse DDT! All six of the men on the outside are hurting and the action is quickly slowing down. Back in the ring it's hotter than ever! After taking a piledriver from Morlock, Griffin is lying flat on his face, leaving Jax to fight both of the Down South Connection off by himself. Luckily he's GOT THAT CHAIR! He turns to Matt Allen who's standing in the corner! HE SWINGS! [BANG!!!] Jim Robson: MISSED! HE CAUGHT THE TOP OF THE RING POST! MORLOCK PULLS HIS LEGS OUT FROM UNDER HIM! Boston Crab? NO! HE SLINGSHOTS JAX! [OOOOOH!] Jim Robson: INTO A LARIAT FROM MATT ALLEN!! THAT'S THE DSC MISFORTUNE! MORLOCK COVERS HIM! 1 . . . 2 . . . [POP!!] KICKOUT!! Jim Robson: Where did Jax find it in himself to come back from that! Jack Anderson: Morlock is going to the top rope! Jim Robson: HERE COMES JAYSON INTO THE RING! HE CLUBS MATT ALLEN FROM BEHIND! NOW HE GOES AFTER MORLOCK! Jayson jumps onto the second turnbuckle! Morlock's on the top! They're trading punches up and down! Jack Anderson: Matt Allen has Jayson from behind! Jim Robson: He grabs him around the waist and ... TURNS HIM UPSIDE DOWN! MORLOCK COMES OFF THE ROPES ... THE DOWN SOUTH SPIKE!! Jayson is OUT COLD! Jack Anderson: HERE COME XTREME MEASURES INTO THE RING! Jim Robson: Dalton and Grant have left America's Least Wanted laying outside in the midst of everything going on! Grant knees Allen in the back, sending him over the top rope! Now he goes after Morlock as Dalton covers Jayson! 1 . . . 2 . . . 3!!! FRANCINE: THE MEN IN BLACK HAVE BEEN ELIMINATED!!! Jim Robson: Two teams down, four to go! Jack Anderson: Five if you believe Jurkschat actually signed someone else. Jim Robson: Well I think it's a little late for them no matter WHO they are. [The Men In Black walk back up the aisle.] Jim Robson: It just occurred to me that Xtreme Measures goal doesn't even seem to be to win the titles. Up until now they've been focusing completely on America's Least Wanted. [A box appears in the corner of the screen. It's that of Justin Arcola with both tag titles over his shoulders, watching the match on a moniter backstage.] Jim Robson: Well there's Arcola. We definitely know he's watching this, and with great interest it seems. [The box closes.] Jim Robson: Here comes America's Least Wanted! Back into the ring and back after Xtreme Measures! We've got two huge brawls going on! ALW and Xtreme Measures! Down South Connection and the Boys Next Door! All eight men getting it on right here! [Commotion stirs in the aisle.] Jim Robson: What is going on here? Two men wearing Detroit Red Wings jerseys are coming down the aisle! Jack Anderson: Are these the two guys Jurkschat signed? Jim Robson: It could very well be! Their names are printed across the back of their jerseys. The blonde one is ... Abel and the native american fellow is Hawk. Hawk's coming down on a skateboard. Jack Anderson: That's them! They slide into the ring. [CRACK!] [CRACK!] Jim Robson: JESUS! THAT GUY ... HAWK! HE JUST BLASTED BOTH DALTON AND GRANT FROM BEHIND WITH HIS SKATEBOARD! ABEL IS STOMPING DALTON MERCILESSLY! [CRACK!] [CRACK!] Jim Robson: HAWK JUST TOOK THAT BOARD OVER THE HEAD OF THE DOWN SOUTH CONNECTION AS WELL! HE SWINGS THE BOARD AT SAMMY GRIFFIN! . . . [POP!] Jim Robson: BUT SAMMY DUCKS! HE CATCHES HAWK IN THE STOMACH WITH A SHOULDER BLOCK! THE BOARD FALLS OUT OF THE RING! [BOOM!] Jim Robson: SAMMY GRIFFIN JUST HIT DEATH FROM ABOVE ON EDWARD DALTON! HE COVERS HIM! 1 . . . 2 . . . 3!!! Jim Robson: XTREME MEASURES ARE GONE! FRANCINE: XTREME MEASURES HAVE BEEN ELIMINATED! Jack Anderson: That shot with the skateboard took them completely out! Who ARE these two guys in those Red Wings Jerseys! Jim Robson: I have no idea, but they've gone right after the Boys Next Door! HEY! DALTON JUST JUMPED UP AND ... [BOOOOOOOOO!!!] Jim Robson: HANGOVER ON SAMMY GRIFFIN!! NOW HE PUTS HIM IN A REVERSE CHICKEN WING! EDWARD DALTON HAS LOST IT! [POP!] Jim Robson: YEAH! GARRETT JAX JUST KICKED HIM UPSIDE THE HEAD WITH THOSE STEEL TOED BOOTS! Dalton rolls out of the ring and Xtreme Measures make their way out of here. Meanwhile, America's Least Wanted have jumped all over the Down South Connection! Octane picks up Kenneth Morlock and delivers a running powerbomb into the turnbuckle! He picks him back up. Short-arm clothesline! Morlock did a 360 turn in mid-air after that! Jack Anderson: Joe Kidd isn't giving Matt Allen any easier of a night. He sets the man who has him by nine inches on the top turnbuckle. He climbs up behind him. Reaches around his neck and grabs his trunks. ITS A REVERSE SUPERPLEX!!! [BOOM!] Jim Robson: NAILED nd laying in the shoe leather from the side. Jim Robson: Damian Malcolm and Prophet now pulling a ragged Maverick to his feet. Each tugging on an arm and pulling him toward the delivery entrance. I wonder what this is about. Jack Anderson: Can't be good for Maverick wherever it is. Jim Robson: Damian Malcolm and Prophet pinning Maverick arms behind him. The dlievery door opening now and stepping out is...Celeste Malcolm? What could she possibly add to his match? Celeste: Who's the whore now, bitch?!! Jack Anderson: How about insult to injury? As she NAILS Maverick's groin for a 45 yard field goal!! Jim Robson: There go Maverick's plans for the evening!! Jack Anderson: Gee, I didn't know being kicked in the nuts kept you from being able to use a bedpan. Jim Robson: Well, I don't know about bedpans. But he won't need that stock in Trojan anytime soon. Jack Anderson: Well neither will Prophet as MAverick mule kicks him in his own nether regions. Maverick now trying to shake loose Damian Malcolm. Jim Robson: No he's not. Maverick mule kicking Malcolm downstairs. Maverick's got the champion and whips him... Jack Anderson: RIGHT INTO THE DELIVERY DOOR!! And it looks like both Malcolms are down. Jim Robson: And Jack it looks like Celeste Malcolm got smashed up against that door by her husband's momentum. Jack Anderson: Good for her!! Jim Robson: Good for her?! The Malcolms may be scum, Jack. But that delivery door has no give whatsoever and Celeste Malcolm hit it hard!! She could be seriously hurt!! Jack Anderson: You're damn straight "good for her" Robson. Anything that distracts Damian Malcolm's focus from the North American title is just damn skippy by me. If that means his old lady ends up in traction, well you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. Jim Robson: You are one cold fish, my friend. Jack Anderson: And don't you forget it. Jim Robson: Damian Malcolm kneeling now at Celeste's side. I think he's just realizing what happened. Jack Anderson: Well, he can't concern himself with that now. He's gotta beat Maverick. Then he can get his little bitch some medical aid. Jim Robson: Malcolm turning toward the street and letting out a whistle as while his partner struggles to subdue Maverick. Jack Anderson: I wonder what that's all about. Jim Robson: I'm sure I have no idea. And it looks like we may have other fish to fry as Damian Malcolm charges Maverick with the big man's own 2x4. Jack Anderson: And BLASTS him with it across the back. The force pitching Maverick forward right into a Jim Robson: HURACANRANA!! Huracanrana by the Prophet as referee Jonas Jones drops down for the count. . . . . . . ONE! . . . . . . . . . TWO!! . . . . . . Jim Robson: And Damian Malcolm hauling the official up off his feet at two. Malcolm right in the face of Jonas Jones now. But why? What did Jones do? Jack Anderson: Well, looks like... Jim Robson: XTREME MEASURES!! IT'S INTERFERENCE FOR XTREME MEASURES!! EDWARD DALTON!! PETER GRANT!! PUMMELING THE EXPOSED GROIN OF MAVERICK WHILE PROPHET HOLDS THE PINNING PREDICAMENT!! Jack Anderson: Oh great!! Just what we need!! More United Aristocracy!! Jim Robson: Damian Malcolm now tossing referee Jonas Jones aside and stomping on Maverick. We now have a mugging!! IT'S FOUR ON ONE!! Jack Anderson: I wouldn't be so sure of that, Jimbo. Jim Robson: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WOULDN'T BE SO SURE? MALCOLM, PROPHET, DALTON, GRANT!! THAT'S FOUR ON ONE!! Jack Anderson: Then who's this coming down the alley? Jim Robson: OH GREAT!! THAT'S _JAMIE_ MALCOLM!! DAMIAN'S LITTLE BROTHER!! NOW IT'S FIVE ON ONE!! Jack Anderson: Again, I wouldn't so sure. Looks like Jamie's come to collect our casualty. Jim Robson: So it does, Jack. Jamie Malcolm scooping his sister-in-law off the pavement. Celeste's head drooping down toward the blacktop as he buzzes at the delivery door. Jack Anderson: My God, let someone answer quickly. This scene with Jamie Malcolm looks the cover of some drugstore bodice ripper already. Jim Robson: The delivery door opens and Jamie Malcolm's off to seek help for Celeste. While her husband and her cronies continue their Mexican hat dance around MAverick. Jack Anderson: Fruit baskets all around for the boys in Receiving. After all, this is wrestling not Romance Classics. Jim Robson: This better not be Romance Classics. Because Maverick's getting no love out there whatsoever. Xtreme Measures pinning the big man's arms behind up while Damian Malcolm works him like a hard bag. Jack Anderson: Except I don't think most hard bags weigh upwards of 350 pounds. Still, Damian Malcolm's getting a good workout jabbing away at those raw, exposed ribs of the big man. Jim Robson: Damian Malcolm now stepping aside and offering Prophet some rib work. Jack Anderson: Oh, how very magnamious of him. Jim Robson: THIS IS SICK!! SOMEBODY'S GOTTA STOP THIS!! MAVERICK'S BEING MUGGED OUT THERE!! Jack Anderson: For once we agree, Jimbo. Hell, I'd even kiss Billy Rock's ring at this point if he'd just run off the United Aristocracy. Jim Robson: Well, Jack, it's not Billy Rock. But we have company!! William Devonshire's here with...with... Jack Anderson: Looks like Jayson from the Men In Black to me, man. Jim Robson: How can you tell that's Jayson and not Dagger. Jack Anderson: Jayson's the one in the mask. Jim Robson: Serious answer!! Jack Anderson: Oh alright. Dagger's about a couple inches taller than this guy. Jim Robson: Okay, I'll buy that. Devonshire and Jayson charging down the alley. And both men tackling Xtreme Measures. Devonshire's got Dalton. Jayson's got Grant. Jack Anderson: Oh if this isn't Maverick's lucky day. His calvary is a suicidal Englishman and a masked rube managed by Kip and Biederman from The Wild Thornberrys. Jim Robson: Well, at least it's a calvary of some sort. Devonshire atop Dalton's chest, flattening the man's nose with knuckles. Jayson hauling Grant up off the ground and hurling him into the arena wall. Jack Anderson: Devonshire now bouncing the head of Edward Dalton off the pavement. My God, if Dalton walks without at least a broken nose and a hairline skull fracture, it'll be a miracle. Jim Robson: Meanwhile Grant staggers back off the arena wall. But Jayson meets him with a series of European uppercuts. Grant tottering ever so close back toward the arena wall. And now a hay-making palm strike by Jayson. A devastating blow that slams Grant's head back into the wall and apparently knocks him cold. Jack Anderson: But while Xtreme Measures is getting theirs, let's not forget the principles. Because Damian Malcolm and The Prophet sure haven't. Jim Robson: Malcolm and Prophet repeatedly slamming Maverick's head into the side of the dumpster. No. They're hauling the big man up and dumping him inside. Jack Anderson: Looks like someone's forgotten the stipulations, Jimbo. They can't win that way. One of them still has to pin the big lug. Jim Robson: And that's just what referee Jonas Jones is trying to tell them. Jack Anderson: But will these thugs respect the authority of some spaghetti-legged temp whose voice keeps cracking on him? I rather doubt it. Hell, even I wouldn't. Jim Robson: And Damian Malcolm looks none too pleased about the interruption by referee Jonas Jones. The champion pulling back like he' ready to strike the official. Jack Anderson: But Prophet stops him. He seems to be whispering something in Malcolm's ear. Jim Robson: What could these two possibly have planned? Jack Anderson: I'm sure I have no idea, Jimbo. All I know is that it can't be good for Maverick. Jim Robson: Maverick scrambling to stand in the dumpster as Damian Malcolm and The Prophet climb in the dumpster Jack Anderson: I'm not sure I like the looks of this. Jim Robson: Malcolm and The Prophet lifting the beleaguered Maverick overhead. OH MY GOD!! Jack Anderson: DOUBLE RELEASE SUPLEX OUT OF THE DUMPSTER TO THE HARD PAVEMENT BELOW!! Jim Robson: MY GOD!! HE'S DEAD!! MAVERICK'S DEAD!! THE INTERNAL BLEEDING HAS TO BE SEVERE AFTER THAT MANEUVER!! Jack Anderson: And the two thugs bumping stomachs like they just won the Super Bowl. I think I'm about to get Excedrin Headache number 47. Jim Robson: Okay it's time to just pin the man. It's gotta just be academic now. Jack Anderson: Hold the phone there, muchacho. We have more company from the delivery entrance. Jim Robson: Oh joy. It's Jamie Malcolm back. Like he's needed out here anymore. Jack Anderson: And look at Damian Malcolm's face. It's all lit up like a Christmas tree. I don't think he knew his younger brother was out here earlier. Jim Robson: I think you're right Jack. Damian Malcolm now embracing his sibling. Jack Anderson: GAAAH!! Enough of the family reunion. I think I'm gonna need some Dramamine to go with my Excedrin. Jim Robson: Jamie Malcolm whispering something in Damian's ear. And I don't know what it is but Damian's getting a pretty ugly smile on his face. Well, ugly if you're a Maverick fan. Jack Anderson: MEDIC!! MEDIC!! Jim Robson: Damian Malcolm and Prophet now scraping Maverick up. Jack Anderson: And that looks like all that's keeping Maverick upright. He certainly can't do it himself. Jim Robson: Jamie Malcolm stamping his foot on the pavement. This can not be good. Jack Anderson: Jimbo, at this point if it brings a conclusion it's a good thing. We may already have to call Maverick's next of kin. Jim Robson: Point taken, my friend. Jamie Malcolm having a half step back. SUPERKICK RIGHT IN THE MUSH!! THIS HAS TO BE OVER!! Jack Anderson: Referee Jonas Jones dropping crisply to the pavement to count. ONE!! . . . . . TWO!! . . . . . THREE!! DING! DING! DING! FRANCINE: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE WINNERS OF THIS MATCH!! THE PROPHET!! AND YOUR _REIGNING_ NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION... "MR INTENSITY" DAMIAN MALCOLM!! Jim Robson: Pretty sound victory for the United Aristocracy as Damian Malcolm retains his ill-gotten North American title. Jack Anderson: Yeah whatever! I gotta duck down to First Aid and see what they have for total revulsion. [The camera sw sides of the alley. Malcolm on the right. Prophet on the left. Jack Anderson: And what better place for Malcolm than the right side? It's where he's been ever since he won the North American title belt from Maverick. Jim Robson: You mean, since Damian Malcolm and the United Aristocracy stole the belt out from under Maverick. Jack Anderson: Says you. Jim Robson: Says a lot of people, Jack. Jack Anderson: Jimbo, do I have to be the professional broadcast journalist here and call this match alone? Or are you going to quit spreading silly rumors and focus? Jim Robson: I will eventually focus when sometime happens. Right now it's just wooden crates and trash cans flying about as Malcolm and Prophet seek out the man they wronged a few weeks ago on Mayhem. Looks like Prophet has a brainstorm as he starts rooting around behind a dumpster. Jack Anderson: Of course. Even if he does run around with the wrong crowd, Prophet is a smart man. Not like that idiot Maverick. Jim Robson: An idiot who's now RISING OUT OF THE GARBAGE IN THAT DUMPSTER!! Jack Anderson: My God, I've seen it all! This has to be the most appropiate opening strategy to a match I've ever seen. Maverick rising out of the garbage in that dumpster. Climbing on the side rail Jim Robson: AND CRACKING PROPHET OVER THE HEAD WITH A 2x4!! Jack Anderson: My sweet Lord!! Who taught Maverick this stroke of genius? Lord knows, he's too stupid to have come up with it on his own. Jim Robson: Maverick laying that 2x4 into the back of the now-fallen Prophet. And now a few boots at Prophet's hairline for good measure. Jack Anderson: But Jimbo, isn't that idiot forgetting someone? Jim Robson: You mean our reigning North American champion, Damian Malcolm. Jack Anderson: No. I mean the friggin Easter Beagle. Of course I mean Damian Malcolm. Jim Robson: Would appear that...HEY!! He won't stay forgotten that way. Jack Anderson: Damian Malcolm hurling the wooden crate right at the back of Maverick's head. Jim Robson: And Malcolm sure had a lot of pepper on that crate. It shattered on impact. Jack Anderson: I guess they don't make wooden crates like they used to. Jim Robson: Malcolm bending down now for a discarded trash can. But Maverick's right on the spot and axhandles Damian Malcolm right across that metal trash can. Maverick with a trash can of his own now and. Jack Anderson: Sandwiching Damian MAlcolm between the two trash cans!! You go, Mav!! Jim Robson: Mav? I thought you didn't like Maverick. Jack Anderson: Yeah well, lesser of two evils Jimbo. Jim Robson: Okay, I'll grant you that one. Prophet now back on his feet. Jack Anderson: But not for long, Jimbo. PRophet jumping up on MAverick's back trying to put him out with a sleeper. Jim Robson: And getting rammed into the back of the dumpster for his effort. That'll break the hold. Jack Anderson: Will it ever. And a bad move by Prophet. Way too early to be going for a move like that. Robson. Now Damian Malcolm's back up. He takes that trash can that MAverick draped him over and BLASTS the big man with it. Jack Anderson: And he's not stopping with just the one shot. Driving the trash can repeatedly into Maverick's ribs. Jim Robson: Good thing the I/W's resident chiropractor is a rib expert. First Mitchell Davis. Now Maverick. Jack Anderson: You ain't kidding, man. Damian Malcolm pummeling Maverick with that trash can. Prophet back on his feet and laying in the shoe leather from the side. Jim Robson: Damian Malcolm and Prophet now pulling a ragged Maverick to his feet. Each tugging on an arm and pulling him toward the delivery entrance. I wonder what this is about. Jack Anderson: Can't be good for Maverick wherever it is. Jim Robson: Damian Malcolm and Prophet pinning Maverick arms behind him. The dlievery door opening now and stepping out is...Celeste Malcolm? What could she possibly add to his match? Celeste: Who's the whore now, bitch?!! Jack Anderson: How about insult to injury? As she NAILS Maverick's groin for a 45 yard field goal!! Jim Robson: There go Maverick's plans for the evening!! Jack Anderson: Gee, I didn't know being kicked in the nuts kept you from being able to use a bedpan. Jim Robson: Well, I don't know about bedpans. But he won't need that stock in Trojan anytime soon. Jack Anderson: Well neither will Prophet as MAverick mule kicks him in his own nether regions. Maverick now trying to shake loose Damian Malcolm. Jim Robson: No he's not. Maverick mule kicking Malcolm downstairs. Maverick's got the champion and whips him... Jack Anderson: RIGHT INTO THE DELIVERY DOOR!! And it looks like both Malcolms are down. Jim Robson: And Jack it looks like Celeste Malcolm got smashed up against that door by her husband's momentum. Jack Anderson: Good for her!! Jim Robson: Good for her?! The Malcolms may be scum, Jack. But that delivery door has no give whatsoever and Celeste Malcolm hit it hard!! She could be seriously hurt!! Jack Anderson: You're damn straight "good for her" Robson. Anything that distracts Damian Malcolm's focus from the North American title is just damn skippy by me. If that means his old lady ends up in traction, well you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. Jim Robson: You are one cold fish, my friend. Jack Anderson: And don't you forget it. Jim Robson: Damian Malcolm kneeling now at Celeste's side. I think he's just realizing what happened. Jack Anderson: Well, he can't concern himself with that now. He's gotta beat Maverick. Then he can get his little bitch some medical aid. Jim Robson: Malcolm turning toward the street and letting out a whistle as while his partner struggles to subdue Maverick. Jack Anderson: I wonder what that's all about. Jim Robson: I'm sure I have no idea. And it looks like we may have other fish to fry as Damian Malcolm charges Maverick with the big man's own 2x4. Jack Anderson: And BLASTS him with it across the back. The force pitching Maverick forward right into a Jim Robson: HURACANRANA!! Huracanrana by the Prophet as referee Jonas Jones drops down for the count. . . . . . . ONE! . . . . . . . . . TWO!! . . . . . . Jim Robson: And Damian Malcolm hauling the official up off his feet at two. Malcolm right in the face of Jonas Jones now. But why? What did Jones do? Jack Anderson: Well, looks like... Jim Robson: XTREME MEASURES!! IT'S INTERFERENCE FOR XTREME MEASURES!! EDWARD DALTON!! PETER GRANT!! PUMMELING THE EXPOSED GROIN OF MAVERICK WHILE PROPHET HOLDS THE PINNING PREDICAMENT!! Jack Anderson: Oh great!! Just what we need!! More United Aristocracy!! Jim Robson: Damian Malcolm now tossing referee Jonas Jones aside and stomping on Maverick. We now have a mugging!! IT'S FOUR ON ONE!! Jack Anderson: I wouldn't be so sure of that, Jimbo. Jim Robson: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WOULDN'T BE SO SURE? MALCOLM, PROPHET, DALTON, GRANT!! THAT'S FOUR ON ONE!! Jack Anderson: Then who's this coming down the alley? Jim Robson: OH GREAT!! THAT'S _JAMIE_ MALCOLM!! DAMIAN'S LITTLE BROTHER!! NOW IT'S FIVE ON ONE!! Jack Anderson: Again, I wouldn't so sure. Looks like Jamie's come to collect our casualty. Jim Robson: So it does, Jack. Jamie Malcolm scooping his sister-in-law off the pavement. Celeste's head drooping down toward the blacktop as he buzzes at the delivery door. Jack Anderson: My God, let someone answer quickly. This scene with Jamie Malcolm looks the cover of some drugstore bodice ripper already. Jim Robson: The delivery door opens and Jamie Malcolm's off to seek help for Celeste. While her husband and her cronies continue their Mexican hat dance around MAverick. Jack Anderson: Fruit baskets all around for the boys in Receiving. After all, this is wrestling not Romance Classics. Jim Robson: This better not be Romance Classics. Because Maverick's getting no love out there whatsoever. Xtreme Measures pinning the big man's arms behind up while Damian Malcolm works him like a hard bag. Jack Anderson: Except I don't think most hard bags weigh upwards of 350 pounds. Still, Damian Malcolm's getting a good workout jabbing away at those raw, exposed ribs of the big man. Jim Robson: Damian Malcolm now stepping aside and offering Prophet some rib work. Jack Anderson: Oh, how very magnamious of him. Jim Robson: THIS IS SICK!! SOMEBODY'S GOTTA STOP THIS!! MAVERICK'S BEING MUGGED OUT THERE!! Jack Anderson: For once we agree, Jimbo. Hell, I'd even kiss Billy Rock's ring at this point if he'd just run off the United Aristocracy. Jim Robson: Well, Jack, it's not Billy Rock. But we have company!! William Devonshire's here with...with... Jack Anderson: Looks like Jayson from the Men In Black to me, man. Jim Robson: How can you tell that's Jayson and not Dagger. Jack Anderson: Jayson's the one in the mask. Jim Robson: Serious answer!! Jack Anderson: Oh alright. Dagger's about a couple inches taller than this guy. Jim Robson: Okay, I'll buy that. Devonshire and Jayson charging down the alley. And both men tackling Xtreme Measures. Devonshire's got Dalton. Jayson's got Grant. Jack Anderson: Oh if this isn't Maverick's lucky day. His calvary is a suicidal Englishman and a masked rube managed by Kip and Biederman from The Wild Thornberrys. Jim Robson: Well, at least it's a calvary of some sort. Devonshire atop Dalton's chest, flattening the man's nose with knuckles. Jayson hauling Grant up off the ground and hurling him into the arena wall. Jack Anderson: Devonshire now bouncing the head of Edward Dalton off the pavement. My God, if Dalton walks without at least a broken nose and a hairline skull fracture, it'll be a miracle. Jim Robson: Meanwhile Grant staggers back off the arena wall. But Jayson meets him with a series of European uppercuts. Grant tottering ever so close back toward the arena wall. And now a hay-making palm strike by Jayson. A devastating blow that slams Grant's head back into the wall and apparently knocks him cold. Jack Anderson: But while Xtreme Measures is getting theirs, let's not forget the principles. Because Damian Malcolm and The Prophet sure haven't. Jim Robson: Malcolm and Prophet repeatedly slamming Maverick's head into the side of the dumpster. No. They're hauling the big man up and dumping him inside. Jack Anderson: Looks like someone's forgotten the stipulations, Jimbo. They can't win that way. One of them still has to pin the big lug. Jim Robson: And that's just what referee Jonas Jones is trying to tell them. Jack Anderson: But will these thugs respect the authority of some spaghetti-legged temp whose voice keeps cracking on him? I rather doubt it. Hell, even I wouldn't. Jim Robson: And Damian Malcolm looks none too pleased about the interruption by referee Jonas Jones. The champion pulling back like he' ready to strike the official. Jack Anderson: But Prophet stops him. He seems to be whispering something in Malcolm's ear. Jim Robson: What could these two possibly have planned? Jack Anderson: I'm sure I have no idea, Jimbo. All I know is that it can't be good for Maverick. Jim Robson: Maverick scrambling to stand in the dumpster as Damian Malcolm and The Prophet climb in the dumpster Jack Anderson: I'm not sure I like the looks of this. Jim Robson: Malcolm and The Prophet lifting the beleaguered Maverick overhead. OH MY GOD!! Jack Anderson: DOUBLE RELEASE SUPLEX OUT OF THE DUMPSTER TO THE HARD PAVEMENT BELOW!! Jim Robson: MY GOD!! HE'S DEAD!! MAVERICK'S DEAD!! THE INTERNAL BLEEDING HAS TO BE SEVERE AFTER THAT MANEUVER!! Jack Anderson: And the two thugs bumping stomachs like they just won the Super Bowl. I think I'm about to get Excedrin Headache number 47. Jim Robson: Okay it's time to just pin the man. It's gotta just be academic now. Jack Anderson: Hold the phone there, muchacho. We have more company from the delivery entrance. Jim Robson: Oh joy. It's Jamie Malcolm back. Like he's needed out here anymore. Jack Anderson: And look at Damian Malcolm's face. It's all lit up like a Christmas tree. I don't think he knew his younger brother was out here earlier. Jim Robson: I think you're right Jack. Damian Malcolm now embracing his sibling. Jack Anderson: GAAAH!! Enough of the family reunion. I think I'm gonna need some Dramamine to go with my Excedrin. Jim Robson: Jamie Malcolm whispering something in Damian's ear. And I don't know what it is but Damian's getting a pretty ugly smile on his face. Well, ugly if you're a Maverick fan. Jack Anderson: MEDIC!! MEDIC!! Jim Robson: Damian Malcolm and Prophet now scraping Maverick up. Jack Anderson: And that looks like all that's keeping Maverick upright. He certainly can't do it himself. Jim Robson: Jamie Malcolm stamping his foot on the pavement. This can not be good. Jack Anderson: Jimbo, at this point if it brings a conclusion it's a good thing. We may already have to call Maverick's next of kin. Jim Robson: Point taken, my friend. Jamie Malcolm having a half step back. SUPERKICK RIGHT IN THE MUSH!! THIS HAS TO BE OVER!! Jack Anderson: Referee Jonas Jones dropping crisply to the pavement to count. ONE!! . . . . . TWO!! . . . . . THREE!! DING! DING! DING! FRANCINE: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE WINNERS OF THIS MATCH!! THE PROPHET!! AND YOUR _REIGNING_ NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION... "MR INTENSITY" DAMIAN MALCOLM!! Jim Robson: Pretty sound victory for the United Aristocracy as Damian Malcolm retains his ill-gotten North American title. Jack Anderson: Yeah whatever! I gotta duck down to First Aid and see what they have for total revulsion. [The camera switches to a scene from the back, where Eric Travers stands in his gold coloured wrestling gear, beside Anthony Edwards.] Anthony Edwards: First, really quickly, where is Tricia Lane? Eric Travers: I have no idea. I haven't seen her all day. Anthony Edwards: Aren't you concerned? Eric Travers: Edwards, she's a big girl, she can take care of herself, so if you don't mind... Anthony Edwards: Okay... Eric Travers, tonight you face a man who has come out and not only attacked you, but has stated that he wants... your face! Eric Travers: And how many people out there wouldn't want Eric Travers' face? Not many! And that's because I'm one of the best looking men to ever show his face on television, never mind inside a wrestling ring. You take one look at the scarred and marred face of Matthew Reason, and you'll understand why he's looking for some improvement!! Anthony Edwards: You seemed a little taken aback when Reason first approached you. Does his mental instability make you uneasy? Eric Travers: If you're asking whether or not Matthew Reason scares me, the answer is a definate no!! Reason, when you first confronted me you caught me off guard. Now, I know exactly what I'm facing... Exactly WHO I'm facing. I've had a quick chat with Billy Rock, and I know what to expect from you in that ring. I know what makes you tick Matthew... I know exactly how to get inside your head... And tonight, in that ring out there, I'm going to show you why I have held the IWF/WOW World Championship on two occasions. I'm going to show you why you should never have stepped into my life. You want my face Matthew Reason? Come and get it!! [Travers walks away from the camera.] Anthony Edwards: A once again confident Eric Travers. I wonder if it's a facade? Back to you Jim. [We fade.] ========================================================================= CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 ========================================================================= [Trevor Storm is seen walking in the locker room. Nate McMannis bumps into him.] Nate McMannis: Hey man... I'm Nate, Commissioner of the IWF/WOW. [They shake hands.] Nate McMannis: Look, I know you have a problem with the United Aristocrats,and I gotta fight d'Artois tonight... I don't have anyone to hold my>towel... and I figure you don't want to see Frenchie get the belt...so do you want the job? Trevor Storm: You have no idea how much I want to see him lose. Nate McMannis: So we have a deal? Trevor Storm: We sure do. Nate McMannis: Thanks man... I owe ya. [McMannis walks away.] Trevor Storm: Yeah. You do owe me. [He smiles and walks away. Fade back into the arena.] Jim Robson: Looks like Storm will be in the corner of McMannis tonight. Jack Anderson: Oh, this should be good... but what did that comment about owing him mean? Jim Robson: I'm not sure. Jack Anderson: Interesting. Jim Robson: Well, what a night it's been already, and we're just getting _started_! Up next, we've got-- [The crowd begin to cheer loudly as "Sad But True" by Metallica begins to play over the loudspeakers.] Jim Robson: What's this? We haven't heard that music in a while... Jack Anderson: Has Travers gone back to his old "Zone" music? [There is a loud pop from the male fans as Tricia Lane steps through the curtain, with a less than happy look on her face. She is wearing a pair of blue hip hugger jeans, and a cutoff black t-shirt, and her shoulder length auburn hair is tied in a ponytail. Lane gets to the ring and climbs the steps. She steps through the ropes and goes to ask for a microphone, which she receives from Francine.] Jim Robson: This is rather unusual. It is very rare for Ms. Lane to talk to the fans, and I don't think I have EVER seen her without Eric Travers by her side. [Lane is standing in the middle of the ring, and begins to speak.] TRICIA LANE: A few weeks ago, I was out here with Eric for an interview, and Matthew Reason showed up. What happened that night was traumatizing... It was emotionally, and physically exhausting... [tears begin to well up in Lane's eyes, and her voice becomes a little shaky.] And I blame it all on one man... ERIC TRAVERS!!! [There is a collective gasp from the crowd] Jim Robson: What!?!? Jack Anderson: Travers' fault? TRICIA LANE: The one man who is supposed to look out for my well being... The one man who is supposed take care of me... The man who is supposed to LOVE ME... In the last 6 months he has done nothing but put my well being, put ME... put US on the backburner. All he cares about is the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Championship!! All he cares about is HIMSELF!!! [The crowd are silent, watching Tricia Lane standing in the middle of the ring, tears in her eyes, trying to collect herself.] Jim Robson: Why is she doing this out here? This is a conversation that she and Travers need to have in private, not on Mayhem. Jack Anderson: Shut up Jim, this is GREAT!! Maybe she'll go on a date with me! Jim Robson: Not a chance. She has better taste than that. Jack Anderson: She's with Travers! And as you have heard, he has turned out to be a complete jackass! TRICIA LANE: My gawd Eric... Matthew Reason has shown more passion, and concern for my well being than you have!! I'll admit, he scared me that night... His face had be torn, and is constantly bloodied, but looks aren't everything. It's what's inside that counts, and Matthew Reason showed compassion for me on Mayhem that night. You could tell that he geniunly cared for my well being, unlike you Eric! Matthew Reason made a great point to me that night. If you really, truly loved me, I never would have been thrown from the upper deck of this very arena by Shane St Clair!! And at the very least, you would have beaten the living hell out of him at Egos and Icons!! If you really loved me, that love would have carried you through those matches, whether St Clair was drugged up or not!! Love would have carried you through those matches despite the interference of Chris Jurkschat!! So it's very obvious to me that that love DOES NOT EXIST!!! [At this point, Tricia Lane buries her head in her free hand, and the crowd remains very silent.] Jim Robson: I can't believe I'm watching this... [Tricia Lane climbs under the second rope and walks down the steps to the floor.] Jack Anderson: It's true! It's really happening! Tricia Lane has left "Epic" Eric Travers! Jim Robson: I... I'm in shock here... I can't believe what we've just heard; this is almost surreal! ## I KNOW THE PIECES FIT ## [MAJOR heat from the crowd.] Jim Robson: Well, if what we've just heard is true, then you have to believe this man is the architect of it all. What in the world is going on? ________ ________ / ____/ |/ / ___/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 -=-=-=-=-=- / / / /|_/ / __ \ GRUDGE MATCH / /___/ / / / /_/ / Eric Travers vs Matthew Reason \____/_/ /_/\____/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 -=-=-=-=-=- --------------------------> WRITER: Matt Weeks <-------------------------- FRANCINE: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first... from Toronto, Ontario... weighing in at 269 pounds... he is a former IWF/WOW Intercontinental Champion... M A T T H E W R E A S O N !!! ##I know the pieces fit ## ##cuz I watched them fall away## ##Mildewed and smoldering## ##Fundamental differing## ##Pure intention just exposed## ##will set two lovers souls in motion## ##Disintegrating as it goes## ##testing our communication## ##The light that fueled our fire## ##then has burned a hole between us so## ##We cannot see to reach an end## ##crippling our communication## [With this out comes the Resident Psycho, Matthew Reason. Reason walks out wearing a black t-shirt which reads "Why do you Hate me?" in red blood letters, on the back "Tell me the Reason." Reason walks towards the ring, slides inside... stays crouched, and begins to speak to himself inaudibly.] Jim Robson: Reason is looking knowingly at Tricia Lane... and Tricia... is smiling at him? I cannot figure this out for the life of me! After everything that Eric Travers and Tricia Lane have shared together... Jack Anderson: It means nothing! Travers neglected her, and Reason was right there to care for her the whole time! What did you _expect_ would happen? [The lights in the arena fade to complete darkness, and a gold spotlight shines on the entrance as the crowd erupts in a loud face pop as "Epic" by Faith No More begins to blast through the sound system.] FRANCINE: His opponent... from Toronto, Ontario... He stands six feet, two inches tall, and weighs in at two hundred and sixty-seven pounds... "E P I C " E R I C T R A V E R S ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! [The crowd reacts loudly again as Eric Travers steps through the curtain. Travers is wearing his gold wrestling gear, consisting of gold trunks, gold boots, and gold knee and elbow pads. Travers has dark blond hair, no facial hair, and no distinguishing marks on his body. Travers stands at the entrance ramp with his arms raised in the air, as a series of gold pyrotechnic explosions go off on the stage. Once the pyrotechnics end, Travers continues walking to the ring. Travers heads for the far corner, climbs to the second rope and raises his arms high in the air, eliciting a sizeable cheer from the crowd.] Jim Robson: Travers looks like Tricia Lane's speech was as much a surprise to him as it was to all of us. Jack Anderson: He'd better keep his mind on Reason, or he'll have more things to worry about than just losing his girl. *** DING DING DING *** Jim Robson: There's the bell and we're underway. Some say this match is taking a back seat to some of the other big matches on this card, but with all the animosity that exists between these two; this could be the sleeper that steals the show. Jack Anderson: Heh, that's a matter of conjecture if I ever heard one. Let's face it, Jim; Travers' best days are far behind him. Reason is in the prime of his career, and he's been playing Travers ever since Halloween MAYHEM. This one could just as easily be over in five minutes. Jim Robson: HERE WE GO! _Stiff_ collar and elbow tie-up! Both men at just shy of 270 pounds, jockeying for position. Looks like it's Reason getting the upper hand...he backs Travers into the corner... referee Geoff Cartwright calling for a clean break and... what do you know? Reason gives it to him. Jack Anderson: Let it not be said that Matthew Reason isn't a sportsman. Jim Robson: Travers once again looks surprised by that, and I can't blame him. They tie up again! This time it's Travers taking Reason into the corner... Cartwright calling for another clean break... [POP!] Jim Robson: TRAVERS SUCKER PUNCHED REASON RIGHT IN THE JAW! Jack Anderson: What a cheap, low-down, dirty... Jim Robson: SPEAR BY ERIC TRAVERS! THIS IS DAMN SURE PERSONAL FOR THE EPIC ONE! Travers raining down with lefts and rights...he's got Reason off-balance! Travers gets up now...into the ropes... JUMPING KNEE DROP BY ERIC TRAVERS! He just _measured_ Reason with that shot! Jack Anderson: Oh, Travers doesn't realize it, but he's playing right into Reason's hands. He's so angry and unfocused right now that Reason can lay low and wait for Travers to make a mistake! Jim Robson: You're forgetting one thing: Eric Travers doesn't make many mistakes. Jack Anderson: Yeah right, then who talked him into those gold trunks he's wearing? Betcha by golly wow, Jim! Eric Travers is gonna be a _star_! Jim Robson: ERIC TRAVERS WITH A HEAD-AND-ARM SUPLEX! I'm not even going to pay attention to that, Jack. He's got the crowd behind him, goes for a pin...Reason kicks out after one! Jack Anderson: _Way_ too early to be going for a pin...Travers should have known better! [Eric Travers takes a second to step out to the apron and implore Tricia Lane to come to her senses. Lane stares at him with cold eyes. Travers climbs the turnbuckle.] Jim Robson: Eric Travers on the top rope...not usually where we see this man...FLYING AXEHANDLE...NO! Reason caught him with a perfectly-timed dropkick in mid-air! What _impact_! Jack Anderson: What'd you say about Travers not making mistakes? Jim Robson: I'd credit that more to Reason's unorthodox style. [The camera catches Tricia Lane, with a pained smile on her face, watching Travers roll around on the mat.] Jim Robson: Tricia Lane looking on, she has to be weighing heavily on the mind of the two-time World Champion. Jack Anderson: Oh, stop making excuses for him; it's just another case of a woman acting as a liability for a wrestler! Jim Robson: A lia- THEY WERE IN LOVE, DAMMIT! Jack Anderson: And love makes men do really stupid things. I wouldn't fault Travers for starting to consider his career over his woman. Jim Robson: This from the man who hasn't touched a woman since the Reagan administration... your bitterness is so transparant. Jack Anderson: Call the match. Jim Robson: Reason waiting on Travers now... cathes him with a kneelift to the gut! Travers is doubled over...Reason into the ropes... FLIPPING NECK BREAKER! OH MY GOD! [Travers clutches at his gut as Reason shoots himself into the ropes. Reason leaps over Travers' back as if to do a sunset flip, but hooks the head of Travers with his hands. Travers' head is snapped 270 degrees backward and collides with Reason's chest. The crowd gives an impressed pop.] Jack Anderson: Reason is just so unorthodox in that ring; there's absolutely no way to prepare for what he might throw at you! Jim Robson: Travers is down, and is slow to get up. Reason to the outside now...he's coming our way... and shoves Francine out of her chair! Come on! She's a defenseless woman, for God's sake! Reason takes Francine's steel chair and brings it into the ring! Referee Geoff Cartwright is warning him not to use it. Jack Anderson: He's not going to... at least not directly. We've seen this move before. Jim Robson: Matthew Reason setting up the chair in the middle of the ring now... Travers slowly getting to his feet... Reason into the ropes... vaults off the chair...slingshot off the top rope... AND DAMN NEAR TAKES TRAVERS' HEAD OFF! THE TRIPLE JUMP LARIAT!!! Jack Anderson: You see? Nothing illegal about that. Jim Robson: There may be about this though... Reason is measuring Travers with the chair... Geoff Cartwright is getting in his face, warning him... REASON SHOVES HIM DOWN HARD TO THE MAT! Travers is up... *** CLANG *** [POP!!!] Jim Robson: TRAVERS DROPKICKED THE CHAIR RIGHT INTO THE FACE OF REASON!!! REASON IS DOWN! Jack Anderson: Wait a minute! How come Travers isn't disqualified?!? He used the chair! Jim Robson: Because Reason threw him to the canvas... Geoff Cartwright never saw it! And besides...Reason brought the chair in the ring; Travers was only defending himself from it! Jack Anderson: Stop the moral haggling! He used a foreign object, plain and simple! Jim Robson: Travers picks Reason up...hooks him in a front facelock... vertical suplex...NO! TRAVERS SLINGSHOTS REASON OFF THE TOP ROPE...IS IT? . . . . . *** BOOM *** . . . . . . [Big-time, "that-came-out-of-nowhere" pop!] Jim Robson: THE EPIC ENDING!!! THE EPIC ENDING!!! THAT'S IT! IT'S ALL OVER! Travers makes the pin, but the referee is still hurt! Travers has this match won! Jack Anderson: Too bad, so sad, Eric! Jim Robson: Here comes Cartwright... this will be all! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . THR...NO!!! MATTHEW REASON GOT HIS SHOULDER UP!!! HOW IN THE WORLD DID HE KICK OUT? Jack Anderson: Is it sinking in, Jim? This is the beginning of the end for Eric Travers' career. He was outclassed, outsmarted, and now his Epic Ending couldn't hold down Reason for the three count! The "Epic One" is singing his swan song tonight! Jim Robson: You have to believe that if Matthew Reason hadn't pummeled Geoff Cartwright, this match would be over! As it is, Travers looks lost; he doesn't know what else he can hit Reason with. Jack Anderson: This is the end of Eric Travers! I can feel it! [The crowd starts to buzz.] Jim Robson: Eric Travers is unfastening the top turnbuckle pad! He's found his solution! Jack Anderson: I cannot believe these people are cheering this! This is blatant cheating! Jim Robson: Travers drags Reason to his feet! Sets him up...both of their backs are to that steel...AND TRAVERS SLAPS ON A WAISTLOCK! HE'S GONNA GIVE REASON A GERMAN SUPLEX RIGHT ON THAT EXPOSED TURBUCKLE! Jack Anderson: Don't do it! You'll kill him! Jim Robson: Travers with a German...NO! REASON HITS A LOW BLOW! [The "mule kick through the legs" version.] Jim Robson: Reason now...taking a chance himself...climbs to the second rope...he pulls Travers over by the hair and hooks him around the head...what is this? *** BOOM *** [POP!] Jim Robson: OBOH-KAI!!! THE DIAMOND DUST!!! Reason pulls an old Japanese favorite out of his arsenal! My God, there's no limit to this man's range! [For those of you who aren't fans of Japanese wrestling, picture a flip off the turnbuckle, over the top of your opponent, who is standing with his back to you. On your way over top to his front, you hook his head and slam him down with a version of the Stone Cold Stunner. It is as big in the Far East as Terry Funk's spinning toe hold, and is affectionately referred to in North America as the Diamond Dust. And now...back to live action...] Jim Robson: Reason not going for the pin! He's got a sure win here, but... his attention is on Tricia Lane. Jack Anderson: Tricia may have the hots for Reason. Who knows? Jim Robson: Lane just told reason to take Travers' face off! What is this?!? Jack Anderson: I knew it! Tricia's hatred for Eric Travers must run so deep that she's going to side with Reason! Jim Robson: I can't believe what we're seeing! Reason comes over to Travers...and now Tricia is getting into the ring! [Tricia Lane comes over to Reason and says something to him, soothingly rubbing her hand along the back of Reason's neck. Reason backs off a bit, but Tricia is insistent. The camera zooms in on them and Tricia reaches around to the back of Reason's mask.] Jim Robson: Tricia Lane is telling Reason to take his mask off! Jack Anderson: Ugh... Trish, I don't know if that's the wisest course of action. There's a reason he wears that thing, his face looks like the Phantom of the Opera! Jim Robson: Tricia looks like she genuinely means it. And Reason...HE TAKES OFF THE MASK! MY GOD, LOOK AT THAT FACE! [The rumors are not exaggerated. Reason's face is a twisted mass of scar tissue and dried blood. Several women and children in the audience can be heard screaming.] Jim Robson: Reason looks ashamed, but Tricia is telling him it's not so bad. She's reaching into her purse; maybe she has a compact mirror to show him. [MASSIVE POP!!!] Jack Anderson: WHAT THE HELL?!? Jim Robson: TRICIA LANE JUST THREW SALT INTO THE EXPOSED FACE OF REASON!!! MY GOD, REASON HAS TO BE IN AGONY!!! Jack Anderson: Why did she do that? Reason has been protecting her all this time! Jim Robson: The salt in Reason's old wounds has to be _killing_ him! Here comes Travers! . . . . [suplex] . . . . . . . . . . [slingshot] . . . . . . . . . . [stunner] . . . [POP!!!] Jim RobsonL MY GOD, TRAVERS HITS THE EPIC ENDING!!! THAT'S IT! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!! *** DING DING DING *** FRANCINE: Here is your winner... "E P I C " E R I C T R A V E R S ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Jim Robson: AND TRICIA LANE JUMPS INTO TRAVERS' ARMS!!! They weren't on the outs after all! Jack Anderson: It was a stinkin' setup the whole time! Eric Travers has nothing to be proud of! [Travers and Lane leave the ring hand-in-hand, looking back at Reason with huge smiles on their faces.] Jim Robson: Eric Travers and Tricia Lane finally get their revenge on Matthew Reason! Reason got played like a cheap violin! Jack Anderson: I guarantee that you haven't heard the last from Reason! Those two will _never_ be safe! [We go backstage, Razor Ron Jeremy and Miguel Hernandez are engaged in a conversation.] Razor Ron Jeremy: So Miggy, We're clear? I just wanna run by this one more time. Miguel Hernandez: Right-o. RRJ: Vice President Thompson is the referee tonight. Now I know how Shane St. Clair operates; in case he hauls off and takes out Thompson, or anything else happens to him, chips a tooth or whatever...at the _very_ moment you see that he's in trouble, and he can't continue to maintain order during the match, you run in there immediately and take over. Understood? Miguel Hernandez: Yes sir ol' chap. Hope you put forth a jolly good show. VOICE: Excuse me! [Vice President Wade Thompson enters from behind the camera.] VP Thompson: Ron, what the hell are you doing? RRJ: Oh hi. Just making sure that we have a backup official for my match against Shane, ya know, in case something happens. VP Thompson: You need to understand something RRJ. If Shane St. Clair attempts anything on me, I will be just fine. NOTHING is gonna happen to me, and even with the _extremely_ slim chance of something going wrong, it would be MY responsibility to take care of it, NOT yours. Are we clear? RRJ: Crystal! VP Thompson: Stop looking at those rocks! Are YOU understood, Razor Ron Jeremy? [Pause. RRJ grins.] RRJ: Sure Tompy. Whatever you say. VP Thompson: Now go get ready or something. I'LL handle the matter with Mr. Hernandez. RRJ: You're the boss. (RRJ bends over and picks up a pair of cymbols.) HELL'S BELLS!! CLANG!! CLANG!! [He begins walking away.] CLANG!! RRJ: OH HELL'S BELLS!! [His clanging continues and finally fades out as Wade Thompson turns to Miguel Hernandez.] VP Thompson: Hernandez, your presence will not be required, I can take care of myself out there. I'm not just any regular referee, and not even a washed up former Luchador. I'm a former IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion!! [Thompson walks away and Hernandez is left shaking his head in disgust.] Miguel Hernandez: (muttering under his breath) Limey Booger. [He lights up a fag as he leaves. The camera cuts back to Robson and Anderson.] ========================================================================= CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 ========================================================================= Jim Robson: Up next is what should be an outstanding contest. Two fromer tag team partners will collide as Razor Ron Jeremy is set to face Shane St Clair!! Jack Anderson: And St Clair will prove once and for all that he was the backbone of the former tag team champions. Jim Robson: We're about to find out the answer to that question, and to the question of what effect Vice President Wade Thompson will have as the special guest referee. Can he keep the match fair? Let's go up to the ring for the introductions ________ ________ / ____/ |/ / ___/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 -=-=-=-=-=- / / / /|_/ / __ \ FORMER TAG PARTNERS FACE OFF / /___/ / / / /_/ / Shane St. Clair vs Razor Ron Jeremy \____/_/ /_/\____/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 -=-=-=-=-=- ------------------------> WRITER: Wade Thompson <------------------------- FRANCINE: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, the special guest referee!! *BONG!!* [The lights in the arena fade to black and a single white spotlight shines on the entranceway. The crowd begin to cheer wildly.] *BONG!!* [An "A" is shone in front of the curtain on the stage.] *BONG!!* [An "o" is shone midway down the ramp.] *BONG!!* [A "D" appears at ringside.] [As the guitar riff to AC/DC's "Hell's Bells" kicks in, the crowd jump to their feet, and the former Angel of Death, now known as Vice President Wade Thompson steps through the curtain. Thompson is wearing a referee's shirt, as well as a apir of black Nike warmup pants and black running shoes. He walks down the aisle, and climbs into the ring in short order. He raises his arms to the crowd for a second, acknowledging their response and then heads for a corner.] FRANCINE: The first contestant... ["WATCH YOUR HEAD" by SOILDER B begins to thump over the PA. The crowd roars into a chorus of BOOS!] FRANCINE: Now entering the ring, hailing from Jacksonville, Florida , standing at 6'3 and weighing at 272 lbs. here is.. "THE HEADLINER" SHANE ST. CLAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Yellow pyro flares from the front of the stage. Though the yellow sparks walks "The Headliner" Shane St. Clair. He moves slowly down the aisle looking straight ahead at the ring. He seems to walk in pace with the music each step taken with a certain rhythm. Half way down the aisle he pauses looking around the arena at the crowd, a cocky smile comes across his face causing the fans to boo and hate him even more. The louder the fans get the more "The Headliner" appears to enjoy it. He taunts with the crowd with laughter then turns his attention back to the chore at hand. The camera circles around him with each step he takes. It reveals his genetically perfect upperbody, the obviously product of many years of working out. Sprinkles of water reflect the lights of the arena. He pauses a moment lifting his hand to chest level, once there he adjust the two black pitfighting gloves that cover his hands. He clutches his hand into a tight fist and quickly releases. He is attired in a pair of yellow theigh length wrestling tights. The word Headliner is printed in italic letters across the back. Black wrestling boots with thin strips of leather run up both legs stopping just below his knee cap. His short brownish-blonde hair is wet down sticking across the front of his forhead. The scars of his past battles decorate his face, one particular runs from the start of right side of his face stomping at the thin carpet goatee that surrounds his mouth and hangs from the bottom of his chin. His face is grimly serious, his eyes narrow and locked on the ring in front of him.] Jack Anderson: Look at the Headliner, Jim. Shane St. Clair is in a world all his own right now. This could be a very long night for Razor Ron Jeremy. [Shane enters the ring via the ring steps. As he climbs on the ring apron he scrapes his feet twice. He slides slowly between the middle ring ropes. He pauses looking around the arena , then moves to his corner.] FRANCINE: And his opponent... BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM... [and 5 bass notes...] BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM... [6 more bass notes...] BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM!!! [Little drums] BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM... [Little more drums and then...] BLAM!! BLAM BLAM!! KA-BOOM!!!!!!!! [Fireworks explode from the entranceway as the lyrics to "Date Rape" by Sublime begin; the crowd goes berzerk.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, hailing From Beverly Hills, California, U.S.A., standing 6 foot 3 inches and weighing in at 280 pounds, R A Z O R R O N J E R E M Y ! ! ! [Razor Ron Jeremy peeps slowly through the curtain and then jumps down the aisle. He breaks out that famous grin and starts dancing ska down to ringside. RRJ has on loose gray sweatpants, homemade tie-dye T-shirt, white amateur wrestling shoes, kneepads, elbowpads, and wrist tape. "Ron is God and Shane is his bitch", "Where can I find some Bootie?" and "RRJ! SSC!" signs. He pantomimes the lyrics of his theme song as he dances to the ring, and some of the fans follow along with drinking motions and driving away someplace real far.] Jim Robson: This is going to be an outstanding match. Jack Anderson: This is going to be a short match. St Clair is going to wipe the floor with this idiot. [RRJ gets in the ring, and starts to hit his head on the turnbuckle, then he stands up on it, throws his fists in the air, and gives a big grin to the crowd. After a big pop, he runs down to ringside and pulls Bootie out from under the ring. For the fans amusement, and possible use for later, he sticks it onto the turnbuckle.] DING!! DING!! DING!! Jim Robson: There's the bell, and this match is underway. The unpredictable Shane St Clair, and the equally unique Razor Ron Jeremy are set to square off. Jack Anderson: These two know each other very well, having been co-holders of the World Tag Team Titles, but I can't believe that that idiot Razor Ron Jeremy could ever defeat a man as skilled as Shane St Clair! Jim Robson: Don't sell Ron Jeremy short, he is a former IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion, and holds the second longest reign in the history of the title. He's unorthodox, but he knows what he's doing in that ring. Jack Anderson: Unorthodox doesn't do him justice. Jim Robson: The two men come nose to nose in the center of the ring. OOOH LOW BLOW BY ST CLAIR WITH HIS KNEE!!! And a stiff knee lift drops RRJ to the canvas!! Shant St Clair stomps away at RRJ, drilling him with boots to the chest and head!! St Clair lifts RRJ nd shoves him into the near corner! Right hand, right hand, right hand, and RRJ slumps down in the corner! St Clair raises his arm to the crowd, and they boo him as loud as they can. Jack Anderson: Like Shane St Clair cares what the fans think. He's a proud man, and there's nothing anyone can say to take that away from him. Jim Robson: St Clair lifts RRJ and Irish whips him into the ropes... POWERSLAM!! St Clair goes for an early cover!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . RRJ kicks out easily. Jack Anderson: It's a little bit early for a pinfall, but St Clair is just getting into RRJ's head. Jim Robson: St Clair lifts RRJ scoops him up... Hard Body Slam in the middle of the ring. St Clair stands and bounces off the ropes... ELBOW TO THE THROAT OF RRJ!! RRJ clutches at his throat as St Clair smiles. The VP is in St Clair's face waring him against the illegal blow, but St Clair ignores him. Jack Anderson: Why the hell should St Clair listen to that washed up VP anyway? Jim Robson: Probably because he is the referee of this match Jack. St Clair grabs RRJ in a front facelock... DDT!!! Another cover by St Clair!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . RRJ kicks out again!! Jack Anderson: If St Clair keeps on trying to pin RRJ, he's going to wear him down. It takes a fair bit of energy to kick out of those pin attempts. Jim Robson: St Clair lifts RRJ and whips him into the ropes... CLOTHESLINE!!... ducked by RRJ!! Kick to the stomach!! DDT BY RRJ!! RRJ comes back with a DDT of his own, and turns the tide of this matchup!! Jack Anderson: That was a lucky move Jim Robson: RRJ gets up and lifts St Clair. Waistlock applied... BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!! RRJ stands and bounces off the ropes... BODY SPLASH!! He hooks a leg!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . St Clair kicks out!! Jack Anderson: Is it me, or was Thompson's count a little faster for RRJ than it was for St Clair? Jim Robson: It's just you Jack, it's always just you. RRJ lifts St Clair and whips him hard into the turnbuckle! RRJ slowly follows in, and drives his right boot into the midesection of Shane St Clair! RRJ follows up with a European Uppercut to the jaw!! Now RRJ is lifting St Clait onto the top turnbuckle. RRJ cl... No, he was going to climb up, but St Clair drilled him with a right hand!!... TORNADO DDT BY SHANE ST CLAIR!! Jack Anderson: Great move by St Clair!! Jim Robson: Shane St Clair gets up slowly and lifts RRJ with him... St Clair has RRJ set up... JUMPING PILEDRIVER!!! St Clair with a cover!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . RRJ kicks out!! Jack Anderson: I'm telling you Jim, that's a slower count than... Jim Robson: Don't you have anything more creative to say than "slow count" Every week I have to listen to you complain about slow counts on opponents of your favorite wrestlers, no matter the referee. It's a load of crap, so quit it!! Jack Anderson: Who pissed in your Corn Flakes this morning? Jim Robson: You may as well have. St Clair lifts RRJ and tosses him over the top rope and to the floor!! St Clair rolls under the ropes and stomps on RRJ's head!! Thompson climbs out of the ring as well, and he's telling St Clair to take it back into the ring, but is again being ignored. St Clair lifts RRJ, scoops him... AND DROPS HIM THROAT FIRST ON THE GUARDRAIL!!! Jack Anderson: I'll give Vice President Thompson this much, at least he's letting these guys fight it out. Jim Robson: He's not counting them out, that's for sure. The fans want to see a winner, and it looks as though Thompson is going to let them have one. St Clair lifts RRJ again and whips him... REVERSED!! AND ST CLAIR GOES FACE FIRST INTO THE RINGPOST!! Jack Anderson: C'mon Thompson, get 'em back in the ring!! Jim Robson: A second ago.. Ah nevermind!! Thompson continuing to urge the combatants to get back into the ring, as RRJ slowly gets up, rubbing his throat. RRJ walks over to St Clair and lifts him to his feet. RRJ WHIPS ST CLAIR INTO THE RINGSTEPS!!! Jack Anderson: Hey this is interesting... VP Thompson is right up in RRJ's face, demanding he get back into the ring, and cutting him off from Shane St Clair! Jim Robson: He's doing his job Jack. This is a wrestling match, and should be taking place in the ring. RRJ finally complies, and rolls into the ring. Thompson gets back in, and watches as Shane St Clair gets to his feet and rolls back into the ring. Thompson steps aside, and RRJ goes right after St Clair. RRJ lifts St Clair and props him int the corner. There's a stiff right hand by RRJ!! RRJ backs away from the corner, almost all of the way to the opposite corner and charges... BODY SPLASH IN THE CORNER!!! St Clair crumples to the mat as RRJ raises his arms to the crowd, much to their delight!! Jack Anderson: I hate guys who kiss the fans' asses. Jim Robson: RRJ pulls St Clair to his feet once again and has him set up... BELLY TO BACK SUPLEX!!! RRJ covers!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . St Clair kicks out!! Jack Anderson: Neither of these guys wants to lose the match to the other. Especially Shane St Clair... How embarrassing would it be for him to lose to a retard? Jim Robson: JACK!! That's completely inappropriate!! RRJ lifts St Clair and sets him up again... PUMP HANDLE SLAM!!! RRJ stands and climbs through the ropes... He's heading for the top rope!! RRJ stands perched and leaps... BODY SPLASH MISSES!!! St Clair moved out of the way, and RRJ landed HARD!!! Jack Anderson: That would have been the third time that fat bastard had squashed St Clair this match, but "The Headliner" saw him coming and thankfully got out of the way!! Jim Robson: St Clair slowly gets up, and begins to stomp on the ribs of RRJ!! RRJ gets on all fours to try and stand... OOOOH MY!! WHAT A KICK TO THE RIBS BY SHANE ST CLAIR!!! St Clair stands over top of RRJ... CAMEL CLUTCH!!! SHANE ST CLAIR HAS A CAMEL CUTCH ON RRJ!!! Jack Anderson: Ring the bell Thompson, it's over!! Jim Robson: It is not over Jack!! Not by a long shot!! RRJ looks to be in a tremendous amount of pain, but he's not giving up!! RRJ is actually fighting his way to his knees!! St Clair continues to pull back on RRJ's chin, putting stress on his neck, back and to some extent his ribs, but RRJ is alleviatinig the pressure by getting to his knees!! RRJ has ST Clair's legs in his grasp and is standing up... Jack Anderson: OH OH!! Jim Robson: RRJ IS ON HIS FEET!! He falls back into the corner, but St Clair got free and got away from being squashed in the corner!! RRJ staggers out of the corner... RIGHT INTO A SHANE ST CLAIR SCOOP AND... YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME!!! ST CLAIR HAS JUST MILITARY PRESSED THE 280 POUND RAZOR RON JEREMY!!!! AND HE SLAMS HIM TO THE MAT!!! Jack Anderson: What a display of power... Jim Robson: And the effects of steroids... Jack Anderson: That's untrue!! Jim Robson: St Clair covers!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . RRJ kicks out!!! Jack Anderson: I can't believe he kicked out of that!! I doubt RRJ has ever been press slammed before!! Jim Robson: I'd have to agree with you on that one Jack!! St Clair questions Thompson's count, but the VP motions with his shoulder and holds two fingers up in the air at St Clair. St Clair lifts RRJ... RRJ GRABS THE FRONT OF ST CLAIR'S TRUNKS AND PROPELS HIM THROUGH THE ROPES AND TO THE FLOOR!!! Jack Anderson: That was a cheap move!! Jim Robson: It was effective none the less. RRJ rolls under the ropes and to the floor, and here we go again!! Both men to their feet at the same time... St Clair catches RRJ with a right hand!! St Clair whips RRJ... REVERSED!!! St Clair goes flying over the barricade and into the front row!!! RRJ follows, much to the displeasure of the special guest referee. RRJ grabs St Clair... AND HIP TOSSES HIM FURTHER INTO THE RINGSIDE SEATING AREA, IN ONE OF THE AISLES!!! RRJ goes after him, and VP Thompson is following them into the crowd!!! Jack Anderson: I at least have to applaude Thompson's leniency in this match. He's letting these two fight it out. Jim Robson: RRJ lifts St Clair and drills him with a right hand!! St Clair staggers farther into the crowd!! Security are having a tough time keeping the fans out of the way! We have three former IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champions in the middle of the crowd, and they all want an up close look at what is happening!! Jack Anderson: Well, they're trying to get a look at St Clair, and maybe RRJ... Do any of these fans actually remember back to the time Thompson was the champion? Jim Robson: The Angel of Death is still one of the most popular wrestlers of all time, and you heard the reaction when he was introduced earlier. Jack Anderson: I personally think they just like his music. Jim Robson: ST CLAIR JUST NAILED RRJ WITH A LOW BLOW FOR THE SECOND TIME IN THIS MATCH, AND THOMPSON COULDN'T SEE IT BECAUSE HE IS IN THE MIDDLE OF A MOB OF FANS!! Jack Anderson: I didn't see it either. Jim Robson: The two men have fought back around near the stage area now, and Thompson has gotten through the crowd and into the barricaded area near the stage. St Clair tosses RRJ into that same area, and now they're out of the crowd!! St Clair grabs RRJ and lifts Him to his feet... VERTICAL SUPLEX ON THE CONCRETE FLOOR!!! St Clair stands and grabs a cable that's on the floor... HE'S CHOKING RRJ WITH THE CABLE!!! THAT'S HEINOUS!! Jack Anderson: There's absolutely nothing wrong with that. The cable's there, RRJ's there, it just makes sense. Jim Robson: It doesn't seem to be making sesne to VP Thompson, as he's ordering St Clair to stop. St Clair is ignoring him again... Wait no... Now St Clair is releasing the choke and getting in Thompson's face. The VP is not budging, and is pointing towards the ring again. He wants this match back in the ring, and soon. St Clair sneers at the VP and lifts RRJ to his feet. St Clair pulls RRJ towards a set of stairs that leads up onto the stage, and starts pulling him up the stairs. Jack Anderson: No one can ever say that Shane St Clair doesn't have any respect for authority. He's obeying the referee right now. Jim Robson: I doubt THAT will last. St Clair has RRJ on the stage now... St Clair lifts RRJ into a fireman's carry... RRJ slips off his shoulders... REVERSE DDT ON THE STAGE BY RAZOR RON JEREMY!!!! Jack Anderson: I get the feeling St Clair was going to perform a Death Valley Driver on the stage, but RRJ slipped out and hit that Reverse DDT!! Jim Robson: RRJ gets up now, trying to shake the cobwebs... He lifts St Clair and sets him up... JACK-KNIFE POWERBOMB ON THE STAGE!!!! Crowd: RRJ!! RRJ!! RRJ!! Jim Robson: Vice President Thompson is upset with RRJ, telling him what he told St Clair, and that's to get the match back into the ring... [Crowd POPS!!!] Jim Robson: What's he up to!?!? RRJ just pointed to the Giga-Tron, and he's headed over to it!! The VP is standing yelling at RRJ, who has started to climb the Giga-Tron!! What in the hell is he thinking!?!? Jack Anderson: I have no idea what goes through that idiot's mind... But I know it's not a Shane St Clair trademark Giga-Spear, because there's no ladder. Jim Robson: RRJ is on the Giga-Tron looking and pointing down at Shane St Clair!! RRJ LEAPS!!!!... [Razor Ron Jeremy jumps from the Giga-Tron and tucks his knees in, like he is doing a cannonball into a pool. He falls the 15 feet or so he is in the air, and lands across St Clair's abdomen with a half senton splash half butt drop. The contact is followed by a MASSIVE pop from the crowd.] Jim Robson: OH MY GAWD!!! RAZOR RON JEREMY JUST HIT SHANE ST CLAIR WITH A SENTON SPLASH FROM THE GIGA-TRON!!! HE MUST HAVE JUMPED FROM TWENTY TO TWENTY FIVE FEET IN THE AIR!!! Crowd: EYE-DUB!! EYE-DUB!! EYE-DUB!! EYE-DUB!! EYE-DUB!! Jim Robson: Both men are hurt, and the vice president is just looking at RRJ and shaking his head. Now he's checking on both combatants, making sure they'll be okay to continue, but I have to wonder about the state of Shane St Clair. The force of a two hundred and eighty pound man landing on you from that high in the air is phenomenal!! I wouldn't be surprised if he has broken ribs, or worse!! Jack Anderson: RRJ shouldn't be allowed to wrestle. He's obviously8 mentally unstable, and now that he's doing suicidal leaps from the Giga-Tron, I think it's time to release him from his contract!! Jim Robson: What about St Clair and that Giga-Spear he like to do? Isn't that just as bad, if not worse? Jack Anderson: No, that's just a great move. Jim Robson: The two men, more RRJ than Shane St Clair are starting to get up, and the vice president is ordering them to return to the ring. RRJ grabs Shane St Clair and drags him to the top of the ramp. Clubbing right forearm to the back by RRJ sends St Clair to the ramp, and he rolls part way down!! RRJ walks towards St Clair as St Clair gets to all fours... RRJ KICKS HIM IN THE RIBS, AND ST CLAIR ROLLS FURTHER DOWN THE RAMP!!! Jack Anderson: How unsportsmanlike!! Jim Robson: Shane St Clair's ribs must be in an unbelievable amount of pain!! St Clair is near the bottom of the ramp as RRJ grabs him, lifts him, and rolls him into the ring! RRJ rolls under the bottom rope and stands gingerly. St Clair is up and charges at RRJ... RRJ SIDESTEPS ST CLAIR AND HE RUNS HEAD TO HEAD INTO VICE PRESIDENT THOMPSON!!! THOMPSON FALLS FROM THE APRON TO THE FLOOR!! RRJ grabs St Clair and scoops him up... POWERSLAM!!! He covers!!! But there's no referee!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3 . . . . . . . . . . 4 . . . . . . . . . . 5 . . . Miguel Hernandez is running down to the ring!!! He slides in under the bottom rope and counts!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ST CLAIR KICKED OUT!!! [From the back steps the slick stepping fat man from two weeks ago. He is dressed in a cheap green suit with a yellow button up undershirt. A gold necklace hangs around his neck, the letters CM hanging from the bottom. With each step his fat belly shakes, and his portly cheeks jiggle. He stops halfway down the aisle and scratches his chin thoughtfully. The crowd turns their attention to the fat man for only a minute then turn their heads back to the action.] Jim Robson: Who in the world is that? I wonder if he even has security clearance to be here. Jack Anderson: I dunno Jim, he seems to taking a particular interest in this match though. [The fat man comes to ringside grabbing a chair in hand. He unfolds it into a sitting position and plops down.] Jim Robson: Well back to the action. RRJ slaps the mat in frustration and gets to his feet. He lifts St Clair and OOOOH!! FOR THE THIRD TIME IN THIS MATCH, SHANE ST CLAIR HAS GONE LOW ON RAZOR RON JEREMY!!! Jack Anderson: Whatever works... Jim Robson: Shane St Clair stands, still clutching his ribs and now grabs RRJ. St Clair lifts RRJ onto the top turnbuckle and climbs to the second rope!! St Clair sets him up... SUPERPLEX!!! St Clair is slow to move as he clutches at those sore ribs!! St Clair eases his way to RRJ and drapes an arm on him... 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . RRJ KICKS OUT!! Jack Anderson: This has been a war Jim. I can't believe RRJ was able to kick out after all he's been through in this match! You have to believe he too was hurt somewhat by that Flying Butt Drop or Senton from the Giga-Tron! Jim Robson: I'm sure he was! St Clair stands and lifts RRJ to his feet. Rear waistlock by Shane St Clair... RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX!!! WHAT A DISPLAY OF POWER BY ST CLAIR, ESPECIALLY AT THIS POINT IN THE MATCH!! St Clair stands and lifts RRJ... He has him set up for a Cradle Suplex... No what's this... [St Clair lifts RRJ for a Cradle Suplex but holds him vertical. St Clair then grabs RRJ's loose leg with his free arm and drops to a seated position with RRJ's neck landing on St Clair's shoulder.] Jim Robson: MEXICAN STRETCH BOMB!!!! ST CLAIR COVERS!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RRJ PUT HIS FOOT ON THE BOTTOM ROPE!!!! Jack Anderson: Man is he ever lucky he landed where he did!! What a move by St Clair!! Jim Robson: St Clair yeels at Hernandez and lifts RRJ... SMALL PACKAGE BY RRJ!!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . VICE PRESIDENT THOMPSON JUST PULLED MIGUEL HERNANDEZ OUT OF THE RING!!!! THOMPSON MAY HAVE JUST COST RAZOR RON JEREMY THE MATCH!!! THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN A THREE COUNT!!! Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! Jim Robson: Thompson is yelling at Hernandez to get the hell out of there... THE VICE PRESIDENT JUST KICKED HERNANDEZ IN THE STOMACH!!! ROCKER DROPPER ON THE FLOOR!!! What in the hell has gotten into VP Thompson!! He gets onto the apron and climbs to the middle rope... What on Earth is he doing!?!? DEATH FROM ABOVE LEGDROP TO HERNANDEZ ON THE FLOOR!!! Jack Anderson: I guess he took exception to Hernandez coming out here. They did have that run in earlier! Jim Robson: The VP rolls back into the ring just as both men are getting to their feet. RRJ grabs St Clair and St Clair whips him into the ropes... TORNADO DDT BY RRJ!!! [MASSIVE crowd pop!] Jim Robson: AND RRJ IS POINTING!! IT'S TIME FOR THE BOOTIE CALL!! RRJ OFF THE ROPES... TO THE CORNER... THAT FAT MAN HAS BOOTIE!!!! OH MY!!! THAT MAN JUST NAILED RRJ WITH BOOTIE!!! Thompson runs over and chases the man down but the damage has been done!!! St Clair is up... SWEET RELEASE!!! ST CLAIR HAS THE SWEET RELEASE ON RRJ!!!! Jack Anderson: It's all but over Jim!! WOOHOO!! Jim Robson: RRJ is locked in the Sweet Release with nowhere to go!!! The Vice President is looking at St Clair... AND HE'S TELLING HIM TO RELEASE THE HOLD!!!! THOMPSON IS POINTING AT THAT MAN AT RINGSIDE AND AT BOOTIE, AND HE YELLING AT ST CLAIR TO RELEASE THE SWEET RELEASE!!! Jack Anderson: That's not fair!!! Why should St Clair have to release the hold? Jim Robson: Because he has the hold on RRJ as a result of that man's interference!! This is the right call, unless of course he disqualifies St Clair!! But the crowd, and the Vice President want to see a winner, and Shane St Clair has finally released the hold, and is yelling at Thompson!! ST CLAIR JUST SHOVED THOMPSON!!! THOMPSON SHOVES HIM BACK!!! The Vice president is pointing at his shirt, and yelling right back at St Clair!! Jack Anderson: Look out Shane!!! Jim Robson: RRJ IS BEHIND ST CLAIR... FULL NELSON!!! RRJ PULLS ST CLAIR INTO THE CORNER!!! HEDGEHOG!!! RRJ WITH THE HEDGEHOG!!! And now RRJ points again, while Thompson points at that man outside the ring to stay where he is!! RRJ off the ropes!!... Grabs Bootie!!!... BOOTIE CALL!!! BOOTIE CALL!!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DING!! DING!! DING!! Jim Robson: RRJ has done it!!!! FRANCINE: The winner of this bout, RAZOR RON JEREMY!!!!! [The crowd cheer wildly as "Date Rape" by Sublime blasts through the sound system.] Jim Robson: Huge win for RRJ!! He grabs Bootie and leaves the ringside area. The Vice President is already in the back. And I must say he did an excellent job officiating this match, though I would question his decision to attack Miguel Hernandez. Jack Anderson: I question his decision to make St Clair let go of the Sweet Release!! Jim Robson: That was the right decision Jack, no matter how you look at it, it was the right call. Wait, what's going on in the ring? [The Fat man rises up and walks to the side of Shane St. Clair. Shane turns slowly towards him taking a step forward. A couple of inaudible words are exchanged. Shane turns to walk away having apparently said his piece. Slowly the Fat man reaches into his coat and removes what appears to be a business card. He shoves it into the path of Shane who stops in his tracks. Shane takes the card from the man and begins to look at it. Slowly his head rises up, a smile slowly comes across his face. He turns back to where he is standing face to face with the man again. The man smiles wryly back at him. They look at each other briefly until Shane finally extends his hand. The man returns the favor. They shake their hands laughing into the heavens, then proceed out of the ring.] Jim Robson: I'm interested to know just who this man is. Jack Anderson: Me too [Screen fades in the locker rooms. Anthony Edwards is there, standing with Robert d'Artois, who is dressed in his ring attire. d'Artois is seemingly ready for his upcoming match. Behind him are his two gigantic bodyguards, Lugen Karnovasch and Alexander Dubois. They are both smiling a bit. Edwards takes his microphone up, and adress the former IWF/WOW World Champion.] Anthony Edwards: Are you ready for your match tonight against the IWF/WOW comissionner, Nate McMannis? Robert d'Artois: Am I ready? Why shouldn't I be ready? Is there any way a man the caliber of Robert d'Artois would not be ready for a match, on pay-per-view television? Actually, I'm not only ready for the match, I'm ready to win that very match. I asked for a towel match, and it was granted by Jurkschat and McMannis... So this is what I wanted... No pinfalls... No submissions... No disqualifications... Nothing... And McMannis took it upon himself to get the formula a little bit better, he decided to add some barbed wire ropes. Fine with me. I don't care... The way I see it, these ropes will only be one more way for me to get some measure of revenge against Nate McMannis. Anthony Edwards: Revenge? Robert d'Artois: Yes... You know the storied past of myself and McMannis... You remember when he stole the Ultimate Wrestling Challenge victory from me back at Summer Explosion... You should remember the whole thing following, my loyal employee, Alexander Dubois, narrated the whole circumstances on the last Mayhem... The way I removed his nasty presence from the IWF/WOW on the Mayhem after Explosion, when I cost him the North American Title against Maverick... The hommage I paid to him, the humilitation and the defeat suffered by his best friend Billy Rock and the great time that the IWF/WOW had without him... His return, his stealing of my Intercontinental Title, the subsequent rematch and the spiked piledriver... Everything leading to this very day, to Christmas Madness, to the towel match. Anthony Edwards: Speaking of the match, could you tell us who is your cornerman? Robert d'Artois: Sure, I could... You know, Edwards, I hesitated when choosing the man... I wondered if I could chose a friend, somebody that I am aligned with, somebody that I enjoyed working with... I could've chosen the Prophet or Damian Malcolm... But I prefered not to, since they were already involved in a battle, I wished to let them concentrate completely on their match... For the same reason, I prefered forgetting about Grant and Dalton... All of those four are great men, great allies, they are the members of the Aristocracy... But I prefered not to implicate them in this matter... They will look my back, but they won't bring the towel with them to the ring... Anthony Edwards: So, who is it? Robert d'Artois: I looked at my side, and saw two men that are nothing without me... Karnovasch and Dubois. They are my shadows, they are the men that some of you describe as "d'Artois' croonies"... They have no personality that you are aware of... They are only faithful supporters of me, they are my loyal right-hand men, they are my employees... Anthony Edwards: Dubois? Robert d'Artois: Yes, Alexander Dubois... [Turns to Alexander Dubois, who approached by one step. He is now besides Robert d'Artois.] Robert d'Artois: You shall know that this man won't throw in the towel... His job is not to throw it, his life is not to throw it. He knows that if he does make me lose the battle, he will simply be removed from this organization, he will be removed from my life... I can trust him not to do anything against me... I can trust him not to throw the towel... [d'Artois gives him the towel.] Alexander Dubois: I won't throw it. Robert d'Artois: You won't... You won't even if my life depended on it. Alexander Dubois: Even if your life depended on it. Robert d'Artois: No matter what. Alexander Dubois: No matter what. [He pauses for a short second, turns to Edwards with a determined look on his face.] Robert d'Artois: You see, Edwards, I'm not going there to lose... As I always said, as I am repeating since a little while, since McMannis' recent actions... I'm not going there to lose, I'm going there to win. And tonight, either I win the damn match, or either I die trying to. [He stops, and then d'Artois leaves the area, followed by Alexander Dubois, towel in hand, and Lugen Karnovasch. Anthony Edwards looks at them leaving while the screen fades back to the broadcast booth.] ========================================================================= CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 ========================================================================= Jim Robson: All I can say about the next match is, well, a lot more than egos are going to be bruised here. It is the much anticipated IWF/WOW Intercontinental Title - Barbed Wire - Commissioner's Rules Towel Match. "Suicidal" Nate McMannis made a triumphant return only weeks ago to capture the title from Robert d'Artois and after an indecisive rematch on Mayhem, it's come to this. Jack Anderson: Yeah, and McMannis has been snubbed my his "best friend"! Hah hah! This is classic! Jim Robson: I wouldn't call it a "snub". This is the biggest night of Billy Rock's career. You can't expect him, at a moment's notice, to drop everything, INCLUDING his focus, and turn his attention toward something completely separate. Jack Anderson: Well who did he THINK McMannis was gonna ask to hold his towel? Francine? Jim Robson: Regardless, Rock made a suggestion in Trevor Storm and it looks as though McMannis, although reluctantly, has taken that advice. Storm is no stranger to the United Aristocracy or Robert d'Artois. He will be more than happy to help Nate McMannis to victory tonight. Jack Anderson: The most help he's going to be able to offer him is a ride to the hospital. McMannis doesn't have a prayer against Robert d'Artois. Jim Robson: Speaking of whom, has charged Alexender Dubois with the duty of carrying his towel. Also of not, if Dubois should throw that towel in, d'Artois has let it be known that he will be FIRED! How's that for incentive to keep a tight grip on it? Jack Anderson: He could be being a little tough on Dubois. I mean, d'Artois is his boss. His mentor. Would YOU be able to stand by if I was being beaten to death? Jim Robson: I think I better plead the fifth. Let's swing on over to Francine for the introduction to this carnage. [Cut to Francine OUTSIDE the ring. The ropes have been wound with barbed wire and she isn't taking any chances.] ________ ________ / ____/ |/ / ___/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 -=-=-=-=-=- / / / /|_/ / __ \ INTERCONTINENTAL TITLE MATCH - COMMISH'S RULES! / /___/ / / / /_/ / Nate McMannis vs Robert d'Artois \____/_/ /_/\____/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 -=-=-=-=-=- ----------------------------> WRITER: Brian <----------------------------- FRANCINE: Ladies and gentlemen ... the following match is a BARBED WIRE - COMMISSIONER'S RULES TOWEL MATCH! It is for the IWF/WOW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIP! [POP!!!] ["Toward The Pantheon" by Emperor begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd boos loudly. From the backstage area come two men, large, dressed in black suits with black shirts and dark blue ties. The one on the left has dark black hair, and his face is kind of whiter, without much tan. The other one's hair goes more toward shades of brown, but is also not much tanned and has a large scar on the left side of his face. They are smiling, while slowly walking toward the ring. A graphic underneath the image informs us that the dark-haired one is Lugen Karnovasch and the scarred one is Alexander Dubois. They quickly hop in the ring and Karnovasch violently takes the microphone from Francine, while Alexander Dubois pushes her aside. Karnovasch smiles and adress the crowd. The music stops.] LUGEN KARNOVASCH: Ladies and gentlemen... Now is the time... Now, the man that you've all paid to see will be coming down the aisle... Here is a man who's already tasted the glory, here is a man who is now know as a legend, here is a man who's making his path toward the Pantheon of Wrestling... From the royal city of Orleans, France... At 6'0'', 230 lbs... Representing the House of Artois, here is the master of wrestling... Please stand up and give an astounding round of applause for somebody who is a God Among Men... ... R O B E R T D ' A R T O I S ! ! ! ["Toward The Pantheon" by Emperor start to play once again over the loudspeakers. The lights start to dim a little bit, and turn to complete blackness. A golden trail is then lighted over the alley, with the symbols of the House of Artois in the middle of it (a dark blue herald, with a golden crown and a fleur-de-lys). Out from the back comes out a man, well built, wearing a black singlet with, in the front, the logo of the House of Artois. He wears black wrestling boots. Over this attire, he wears a black robe with his logo on the back, in the same tones as on the other places. He has long hair, worn in a ponytail, and has a small goatee. He smiles, but ignores the fans on his way to the ring.] [He slowly climbs the ringsteps, and climbs in the ring while Dubois and Karnovasch are hopening the barbed wire ropes for him. d'Artois walks a bit around the ring, inspecting the ramifications of it, and goes to shake the hand of his cornerman, Alexander Dubois. He then looks for the microphone, and it is given to him by Lugen Karnovasch. d'Artois smiles, before taking the microphone, and then adresses the crowd for a short moment.] ROBERT d'ARTOIS: After Summer Explosion, I never tought this moment would come... McMannis, I'm happy you came back, I'm happy that this match can happen, because this way, I'll have the greatest opportunity one can ask to show my superiority to the whole world.. Tonight, I am ready to face you, I am ready to hurt you, I am ready to win. [He pauses as the crowd chants "McMannis! McMannis!".] ROBERT d'ARTOIS: Either I win here tonight, or I die trying to. [He throws the microphone in the hands of Francine, the regular ring announcer, and smiles, has he lower his head and get some concentration for his upcoming battle. He goes near a corner, as Dubois and Karnovasch do some peptalk, while he waits for the battle to start.] FRANCINE: His opponent ... [The opening chords to Disturbed's "Down With the Sickness" blast over the PA, and the lights in the arena go out completely. When the intro ends and the guitar riff kicks in, a loud explosion goes off in the entranceway, and a black smoke cloud forms.] FRANCINE: Hailing from Santa Fe, New Mexico! He stands six feet tall, and weighs in at two hundred and ninteen pounds ... accompanied by his towel bearer TREVOR STORM ... [As the smoke dissipates, the form of a man carrying a walking cane is revealed where the cloud was. The man is "Suicidal" Nate McMannis.] PA: # Can ya' feel that? # [The lyrics to "Down With the Sickness" continue, and Nate McMannis begins walking to the ring. Trevor Storm follows behind him carrying a towel. A spotlight focuses on him, making no hesitations in his slow gait. His ear-length, dark brown hair is parted down the center, with the bangs hanging in his face. His hair is drenched, and his face emits a cold, calculating stare.] FRANCINE: Ladies and gentlemen ... here is the Commissioner of the IWF/WOW and IWF/WOW Intercontinental Champion ... ... "S U I C I D A L" N A T E M C M A N N I S ! ! ! [The crowd responds to the introduction with a huge face pop, as Nate McMannis steps in between the top and middle ropes into the ring. He holds the walking cane in his left hand to his neck, drawing attention to the tattoo of a dagger that runs across his throat... "Suicidal" Nate McMannis runs the cane along the dagger, then points it at each of his wrists displaying matching daggers on each. As the lights turn on, the audience now sees his ring attire, consisting of red elbowpads, purple wrist tape, black pant-length wrestling tights, and black boots. The tights have red and purple spiralling designs on them. He places the cane in the corner of the ring, and as he bends down, his well-defined body stretches, but simply stands erect once again, revealing the same scowl on his face that has been there since he entered the arena. He climbs up to the top-rope, and holds his arms in the air in a pre-victory celebration, smiling for the first time. This elicits a big pop from the crowd. He climbs off the turnbuckle. The music fades out.] [Nate bumps fists with Storm, who then carefully exits the ring. Before the match can begin however, referee Geoff Cartwright points to Lugen Karnovasch and orders him to the back.] [POP!!] Jim Robson: GREAT CALL, GEOFF! Way to exert your authority out there! Jack Anderson: What on earth does he think he's doing? Karnovasch has a right to be out there. He's got a manager's license. Jim Robson: Only the towel bearer's are allowed out there tonight, Jack. You know that. That means Dubois stays and Karnovasch goes. [Karnovasch jaws at the fans on his way back up the aisle as d'Artois repeatedly tries to convince Cartwright to reconsider.] [POP!] Jim Robson: MCMANNIS ISN'T WAITING ANY LONGER! HE DROPKICKS D'ARTOIS INTO THOSE BARBED WIRE COILED ROPES! [The crowd groans as d'Artois lands against the ropes with his arms spread out across the top.] DING DING DING Jim Robson: It's official now as McMannis takes a few steps back. He bursts toward d'Artois again! [Another loud groan.] Jim Robson: AND DROPKICKS HIM EVEN HARDER INTO THE ROPES! d'Artois slumps. McMannis grabs a chunk of his hair and holds him to his knees. He hammers him in the temple with a series of closed right hands. The skin on d'Artois' back is already broken. Jack Anderson: You think it occurred to either of these guys to maybe, ya know, wear street clothes? Something that might protect the skin? Jim Robson: I think they've been blinded by their animosity for one another, Jack. I'm sure the only thing that's crossed their minds is the thought of destroying the other. [Trevor Storm paces on his side of the ring, pumping his fist in the air to get the crowd behind Nate early.] Jim Robson: Nate takes d'Artois by the wrist and whips him across the ring! But d'Artois falls to his knees just inches away from another encounter with the barbed wire! He has some words for Storm as he looks through the ropes, and Storm responds with a friendly hand gesture. Jack Anderson: He could've used ALL his fingers. [GROAN!] Jim Robson: MCMANNIS DROPKICKS D'ARTOIS FROM BEHIND! D'ARTOIS FALLS FORWARD INTO THE SECOND ROPE! McMannis grabs him by the hair and yanks him back. Look at how the wire pulls at d'Artois skin as it comes out! Jack Anderson: I think I've seen enough already. Since when did I/W become so violent? Jim Robson: When the athletes, like McMannis, got crazier. He leans d'Artois's back against the turnbuckles. d'Artois knees McMannis in the stomach! LA BOMB D'ARTOIS ... NO! HE CARRIES IT THROUGH AND DROPS MCMANNIS FACE FIRST ONTO THE TOP TURNBUCKLE! Mere INCHES from one of those barbed wire wrapped ropes! d'Artois breathes heavily as he springs up. He stomps McMannis across the back of the head. Scoops him up ... AND HANGS HIM UPSIDE DOWN IN THE CORNER! HE HOOKS MCMANNIS IN THE TREE OF WOE, LOCKING HIS LEGS BEHIND THOSE BARBED WIRE ROPES! [Dubois quietly slides a chair under the bottom rope.] Jim Robson: Ref, get that chair out of there! Jack Anderson: I think Dubois is just suggestion that d'Artois take a rest. Jim Robson: And I think you've been smoking crack! d'Artois lays the chair across Nate's face. [BANG!] [BANG!] [BANG!] Jim Robson: He stomps it into his head three consecutive times! d'Artois knows that's McMannis's main concern is to protect his skull! [Dubois points at Storm from around the corner of his side of the ring, trying to persuade him to throw in his towel.] Jim Robson: Storm is not convinced that Nate's had enough yet. He's vehemently shaking his head no toward Dubois. d'Artois sprints from the corner across the ring from Nate! . . . . . BASEBALL SLIDE!! . . . [BANG!!] [GROAN] Jim Robson: NATE'S LEGS COME UNHINGED FROM THE ROPES AS HE WILTS IN THE CORNER! Jack Anderson: d'Artois had better connection than AT&T with that! Jim Robson: d'Artois scoops him up again. Cradle tombstone! He covers Nate with a lateral press as Cartwright reminds him what kind of match this is. It is NOT as cut and dry as a pin anymore. Jack Anderson: You'll notice that d'Artois's towel is knotted tightly around Dubois' belt. They're not taking any chances of any mistakes happening. The intercontinental title is serious business. Jim Robson: Can't argue with that philosophy. d'Artois hooks one of Nate's arms around the top rope AND JERKS IT BY THE WRIST! That barbed wire may have sunken into his bicep there! d'Artois throws Nate's other arm around the top rope as well. [CHOP!] [WHOOOOOOOO!] [CHOP!] [WHOOOOOOOO!] [CHOP!] [WHOOOOOOOO!] Jack Anderson: WHY do they always do that after a chop? Jim Robson: Beats me. But I wouldn't be surprised to hear a little howling from Nate after those stinging shots. Just look at the red streaks across his chest now. d'Artois picks up the chair he stomped into Nate's face just moments ago. He steps onto the second turnbuckle. [BANG!] Jim Robson: AND BRINGS IT DOWN OVER MCMANNIS'S HEAD AS HE LANDS! [Nate falls to his knees, then lands on his face. Trevor Storm pounds the mat in support of McMannis.] Jim Robson: Storm trying to inspire McMannis to make a comeback here. And look at Dubois, applauding what his boss has done here. Jack Anderson: Can you honestly look at Nate McMannis lying on his face and tell me that isn't a job well done? Jim Robson: Ugh, you belong in a padded room. d'Artois whips Nate across the ring. Nate stops himself by grabbing the ropes! d'Artois charges. MCMANNIS LEAPFROGS D'ARTOIS WHO WAS COMING FROM BEHIND! D'ARTOIS'S STERNUM COLLIDES WITH THE TOP TURNBUCKLE! McMannis picks up that chair. d'Artois turns around. McMannis tosses it and d'Artois catches it! [BANG!] [POP!] Jim Robson: MCMANNIS SUPERKICKS THE CHAIR INTO D'ARTOIS'S FACE! d'Artois falls flat on his back with the chair landing over his face! McMannis climbs to the top rope. HIGH RISK MANEUVER COMING UP! . . . . . [BANG!] Jim Robson: SOMERSAULT LEGDROP FROM THE THIRD STORY! d'Artois is flopping on that canvass like a fish out of water! McMannis picks up the chair and drives the top of it into d'Artois' ribs! Over and over as the crowd counts along! 6!!! 7!!! 8!!! 9!!! 10!!! 11!!! 12!!! Jim Robson: Twelve shots with the end of that chair to d'Artois's ribs! McMannis unfolds the chair and sits it near the ropes. He drags d'Artois to the center of the ring. Gets a running start ... jumps off the chair ... ONTO THE TOP ROPE ... AND MOONSAULTS! [BOOM!] Jim Robson: MCMANNIS HITS A TRIPLE JUMP LIONSAULT FROM THE TOP ROPE! RIGHT ACROSS D'ARTOIS RIBS! McMannis rolls across the ring, obviously taking something out of himself in that collision! d'Artois just lies motionless! Trevor Storm reaches into the ring and pats Nate on the shoulder, applauding the risk that paid off. McMannis crawls over to d'Artois. He spreads his right arm across the mat. He folds that chair up and places it on his exposed ribs. He stomps him in the head for good measure then heads for home. The top turnbuckle. He climbs slowly, careful not to get caught on any of the barbed wire. . . . . . [BANG!] Jim Robson: LORD ABOVE!! MCMANNIS WENT DIAGONAL AND HIT A DROPKICK INTO THE CHAIR OVER D'ARTOIS'S RIBS!! Jack Anderson: d'Artois slid across the ring! Jim Robson: Like a hungry redneck, Nate McMannis is really going after those ribs! [McMannis assumes a three point stance, but only for balance. He then staggers across the ring.] Jim Robson: He picks up d'Artois AND SHOVES HIS FACE INTO THE TOP ROPE! LOOK AT HIS FOREHEAD OPEN WIDE UP! Jack Anderson: The floodgates have opened, Robson! Jim Robson: d'Artois is bleeding and quickly! Jack Anderson: Keep in mind, d'Artois doesn't care if he's squeezed of every last drop, Dubois is NOT to throw in the towel! Jim Robson: That's what he said alright. We'll find out soon enough if he means it. Oh God! McMannis is DRAGGING d'Artois's face across that top rope! Hitting every one of those metal thorns along the way! [He lets go of d'Artois who quickly spins around and stumbles across the ring, ultimately to his knees.] Jim Robson: Look at his lacerated forehead! It's like every crease on his browe has been split open! McMannis from behind with a dragon sleeper with d'Artois still on his knees! He bends his upper half backward, trying his best to make d'Artois's feet touch his shoulders. He keeps one arm wrapped around d'Artois's neck as, with the other, he punches him repeatedly in the ribs. He's certainly picking a body part and sticking to it. Jack Anderson: We can only wonder how much longer before one of those ribs goes, if it hasn't already. Jim Robson: Definitely a concern of d'Artois and Dubois. Nate pounds him one more time and after realizing this aint enough to make Dubois basically resign, he releases the hold. d'Artois's shoulders are touching the mat with his knees still bent. A very uncomfortable looking posi-LEGDROP FROM MCMANNIS! d'Artois rolls onto his stomach and straightens out oh is legs. McMannis picks up the chair and lodges it between the second and third turnbuckles. He takes d'Artois by the arm and whips him straight into it! . . . Jim Robson: REVERSAL! . . . [BANG!] Jim Robson: MCMANNIS COLLIDES WITH THE CHAIR HEAD FIRST! HE FLIPS OVER THE ROPES, HITS THE APRON, AND FALLS TO THE ARENA FLOOR! Jack Anderson: Nice job he's doing of protecting that skull. Someone should tell him that hair is not an effective cushioning device. [d'Artois slowly climbs out of the ring.] Jim Robson: Trevor Storm keeps a watchful eye on Dubois, making sure he keeps his hands off of McMannis. d'Artois, meanwhile, has joined his opponent on the floor. He pulls McMannis up and looks like he's gonna suplex him. He tries to lift him once but stutters, obviously because of those ribs. Jack Anderson: I don't like how close they are to us, Robson. Jim Robson: d'Artois with another suplex attempt ... ONTO-OUR-TABLE-WATCH-OUT!!! [THUD!] [Papers and moniters fall off the table as McMannis lands, sprawled across the piece of furniture. Robson and Anderson have abandoned their chairs for a safer distance.] Jim Robson: This is unbelievably out of hand. d'Artois climbs onto our table there and squats on McMannis's chest, balling up his right hand and delivering some destructive blows to his temple! McMannis is doing his best to cover his head up but d'Artois is finding a way through. He grabs Nate by his hair and pulls him up. Both men standing on the table now. d'Artois pushes Nate's head between his thighs. Oh don't do this. Please don't do this. [Fans near the railing behind the broadcast table begin to scatter.] Jack Anderson: HE'S GONNA KILL MCMANNIS IF HE DOES THIS! . . . [d'Artois rolls McMannis onto his shoulders.] . . . Jim Robson: THROW IN THE TOWEL, STORM! DON'T LET HIM DO IT! . . . [He heaves McMannis off his shoulders, toward the section of seats behind the table.] . . . [CLANG!!!!!] . . . Jim Robson: MY GOD!! MY GOD!! D'ARTOIS JUST LA BOMB D'ARTOIS'D MCMANNIS OFF THE TABLE AND INTO THE SEATS BEHIND THE RAILING!!! Jack Anderson: HE'S COVERED IN CHAIRS!! I CAN'T EVEN SEE HIM!! Jim Robson: That was HORRENDOUS!! McMannis may be broken in half! Jack Anderson: He may be in more pieces than that! Jim Robson: d'Artois climbs down from the table and goes over the railing. He's clearing out the chairs and ... oh man ... McMannis's eyes aren't even open. He's laying on his side. Geoff Cartwright is following the action. Storm and Dubois are keeping their distance but close enough to see if their man has had enough, and I honestly suggest that Trevor Storm think about doing McMannis a favor here and send that towel for a ride. Jack Anderson: Why are the fans on the other side of the arena making commotion? Jim Robson: I don't-HEY! HEY NOW! THREE MEN HAVE JUST JUMPED THE RAILING AND AMBUSHED TREVOR STORM! WHO ARE THEY?! Jack Anderson: I can't be sure they look like ... yeah, that's them! Those guys are TRYOUT WRESTLERS FROM RAGE! "Archangel" Alex Aaron, Damon "The Devil" Drake, and Prince Frederick! I guess they're taking it upon themselves to make it to the "show". Jim Robson: What they are taking upon themselves are several liberties with the body of Trevor Storm! They're throwing him against the guard rail! Kicking and stomping away! BUT STORM IS FIGHTING BACK! Geoff Cartwright isn't seeing ANY of this! He's got his eyes on d'Artois who is keeping him distracted by pounding on McMannis! Jack Anderson: Prince Frederick just took Nate's towel from storm and tossed it into the ring! Jim Robson: CARTWRIGHT HASN'T SPOTTED A THING YET! DAMMIT, JACK, THESE GUYS HIRED GOONS BY ROBERT D'ARTOIS! IT'S PLAIN AS DAY! Jack Anderson: Are you suggesting that Robert d'Artois is in some way, shape, or form, involved at ALL with Rage? Jim Robson: Well it would certainly explain why it SUCKS! Or why no one EVER seems to get a CLEAN pinfall over Prophet or Damien Malcom, his United Aristocracy buddies. That's besides the point though. Nate McMannis's towel is IN THE RING and if Geoff Cartwright sees it, it's all over for the commissioner! Trevor Storm is fighting his way back though! ========================================================================= CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 ========================================================================= [POP!!] Jim Robson: POINT OF AUTHORITY ON ALEX AARON! [POP!!] Jim Robson: HE BACKDROPS DAMON DRAKE BACK OVER THE RAILING! ALL THREE OF THEM ARE FLEEING NOW, BUT TREVOR STORM HAS _GOT_ TO GET TO THAT TOWEL BEFORE GEOFF CARTWRIGHT SEES IT! [d'Artois notices the three men are fleeing, so he begins to drag Nate back toward the ring.] Jim Robson: Trevor Storm slides into the ring to grab the towel. [POP!!!] . . . . . Jim Robson: BUT DUBOIS SPRINTED ACROSS THE RING AND CAUGHT HIM WITH A BOOT TO THE FACE! STORM FALLS OUT OF THE RING AND THE TOWEL REMAINS ON THE CANVASS! [BOOOOO!!] Jack Anderson: d'Artois just poured McMannis back over the railing, into the ringside area. WE'RE GONNA HAVE A NEW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION! Jim Robson: THIS ISN'T RIGHT! THIS ISN'T RIGHT AT ALL! LOOK AT TREVOR STORM, USING EVERY OUNCE OF DETERMINATION IN HIS BODY TO PULL HIMSELF UP ONTO THE APRON! Jack Anderson: d'Artois rolls McMannis onto the apron! YES! YES! AS SOON AS CARTWRIGHT TURNS HIS HEAD TOWARD THAT TOWEL IT'S OVER! Jim Robson: McMannis falls off the apron! Jack Anderson: NO! Jim Robson: d'Artois didn't get him all the way up and his ribs are really effecting his performence. He grabs McMannis by the hair and SLINGS him into the ring under the bottom rope! TREVOR STORM IS REACHING DESPERATELY UNDER THE BOTTOM ROPE! Jack Anderson: d'Artois slides into the ring! Cartwright climbs in behind him! IT'S OVER NOW, ROBSON! IT'S OVER! [THUD!] Jim Robson: MCMANNIS KICKED D'ARTOIS'S ANKLE, TAKING HIS FEET OUT FROM UNDER HIM! THAT TOWEL JUST MOVED TOWARD STORM ABOUT AN INCH FROM THE TREMOR! . . . . . Jim Robson: CARTWRIGHT LOOKS UP! . . . . . . . . . . [_HEEEEEYYYUUUUUGE POP!!!_] Jim Robson: STORM GRABBED THE TOWEL!!! ALL CARTWRIGHT SEES IS STORM, REACHING INTO THE RING, WITH A TOWEL IN HIS HAND!! Jack Anderson: NO THAT IS NOT RIGHT! THAT IS NOT RIGHT! THE TOWEL WAS THROWN IN! Jim Robson: Storm didn't throw it and referee Geoff Cartwright saw NOTHING! WE'VE STILL GOT US A MATCH! And d'Artois is LIVID! He stands back up and begins SCREAMING at Geoff Cartwright! I mean he is right in Cartwright's fac- [BANG!] [POP!!] Jim Robson: FROM HIS KNEES, MCMANNIS CRACKS D'ARTOIS ACROSS THE BACK WITH THE CHAIR THAT WAS LEFT IN THE RING! He couldn't put everything into that one, so d'Artois stumbles forward but doesn't go down. McMannis, with everything he's got, rises off the canvass ... AND THROWS THE CHAIR INTO D'ARTOIS! [BANG!] Jim Robson: Bullseye! He walks quickly up to d'Artois and kicks him in the stomach! __HEAD TRAUMA!!!__ He's knocked d'Artois out COLD with his finisher! [McMannis once again, but very very slowly, scales the turnbuckles.] Jack Anderson: Oh he's insane. Jim Robson: You can't be serious! You can't tell me he's going to try a high risk maneuver in his condition! Even Trevor Storm is pleading with him not to do it! The FANS are pleading with him not to do it! [Alexander Dubois dashes around the ring. Trevor Storm inadvertently has the referee distracted by pleading with him to order McMannis off the top rope.] Jim Robson: What the hell is Dubois doing? He jumps onto the apron ... AND SHOVES MCMANNIS!! [HUGE GROAN!] Jack Anderson: SWEET MARY!! Jim Robson: THAT'S SICK! THAT'S JUST SICK! MCMANNIS JUST LANDED ON THE TOP BARBED WIRE WRAPPED ROPE IN A STRADDLING POSITION! HE'S HOLDING ON BY PURE INSTINCT! LET GO, NATE! LET GO! [He does, finally, and falls hard into the ring.] Jim Robson: Storm is now trying to tell the referee what happened. I don't even think it matters now. d'Artois has regained his senses and he smells a victim. He picks up McMannis. Jumping piledriver! Straight onto the top of his head! McMannis can do almost NOTHING to protect his skull at this point. d'Artois steps over the small of his back and squats. He grabs Nate by the chin and executes a camel clutch, which is an old finisher of d'Artois's called the Noble's Blessing! d'Artois grits his teeth as he jerks back on the neck. Blood is just covering d'Artois's face. Nate hasn't sustained any serious cuts yet other than a busted lip, but internally he's a mess. If Geoff Cartwright could stop this right now I'm sure he would but he has to rely on the sympathies of Trevor Storm and Alexander Dubois at this point. Jack Anderson: Dubois, I can assure you, has more sympathy for his job than d'Artois's health. Jim Robson: And Trevor Storm made a promise to McMannis. We are in a very dangerous situation here as Robert d'Artois wrenches back on the intercontinental champion's neck. Trevor Storm has tossed that towel a few glances in the last few seconds and no one would blame him one bit if a glance wasn't all he tossed right now. McMannis hasn't moved in nearly two minutes. [d'Artois suddenly straddles McMannis's back, letting his knees hit the ground. He falls on top of him and wraps one arm around the neck, the other around the forehead.] Jim Robson: d'Artois has turned the Noble's Blessing into a sleeper! Jack Anderson: Did you see the fluid motion of the future two time intercontinental champion? That's a mat technician right there! That's a survivalist! Jim Robson: Quite impressive, Jack. d'Artois rolls over onto his back, holding Nate in the sleeper still. His shoulders can't be counted to the mat either. Cartwright looks at Storm, who shakes his head no, and I think our veteran referee is having a little trouble with that answer. Wait ... what's he doing? Cartwright just lifted McMannis's arm and let it fall. He lifts it again and lets it fall one more time. Is he going to make a decision here? He lifts McMannis's arm a third time and . . . . . Jim Robson: Oh boy. It fell again. Jack Anderson: D'ARTOIS WINS! Jim Robson: I don't think so, Jack, but Cartwright is giving Trevor Storm one hard look. Storm hangs his head and looks at the towel. Come on Trevor. You tried your best. Nate tried his best but enough is enough. That kid has a future so let's not take it away from him tonight. [d'Artois has not let up on the hold one bit. He screams for Storm to throw in the towel.] Jim Robson: I think we've seen the end of this one, Jack. Not as dramatically or happily as most of us hoped. Jack Anderson: I'm fine with it. [Storm gives the towel a good shake in his hand, and with a look of helplessness in his eyes . . . . . . . . . . . [EAR BUSTING POP!!!!!] ... WATCHES MCMANNIS STICK HIS ARM FIRMLY IN THE AIR!!] Jim Robson: I DON'T BELIEVE WHAT I'M SEEING!! NATE MCMANNIS IS REACHING TOWARD THE HEAVENS! Jack Anderson: Only 'cause he sees the light, Robson, 'cause he aint coming back from this! Jim Robson: HE'S PUMPING HIS FIST IN THE AIR AND THIS CROWD IS GOING WILD! [MC-MAN-NIS!!! MC-MAN-NIS!!! MC-MAN-NIS!!! MC-MAN-NIS!!!] Jim Robson: TREVOR STORM HOLDS THAT TOWEL TIGHTER THAN EVER NOW! HE BANGS HIS HANDS ON THE APRON AS NATE MCMANNIS BEGINS DRIVING A SUCCESSION OF BACK ELBOWS INTO D'ARTOIS'S RIBS! He lets go! The pain is too much! McMannis rolls onto his stomach and staggers around the ring as he tries to get up! d'Artois grimaces as he stands, then makes a dash for McMannis! [POP!!] Jim Robson: McMannis catches him with a right hook! Another one! A left! Body blow! [BOOM!] Jim Robson: DDT!!! d'Artois is stunned! McMannis rolls out of the ring and ... he's digging under the apron. Jack Anderson: He's trying to find a place to hide! Jim Robson: NO! HE JUST PULLED OUT SOME BOLT CUTTERS! He rolls into the ring and snips one of the barbed wires from the corner. He drops the cutters and picks up d'Artois. He untangles the wire from the ropes and ... OH MY GOD! Jack Anderson: THIS is dispicable! Jim Robson: HE'S ROLLING D'ARTOIS ALONG THE ROPES, TANGLING HIM UP IN BARBED WIRE ALL THE WAY ACROSS TO THE OTHER CORNER! D'ARTOIS'S TORSO IS MUMMIFIED IN BARBED WIRE! [Nate grabs the chair.] [BANG!] [BANG!] [BANG!] Jim Robson: THREE VIOLENT SHOTS ACROSS D'ARTOIS BREAD BASKET, DRIVING THE BARBED WIRE DEEPER INTO THE SKIN! Nate picks up the bolt cutters again. This time he snips the barbed wire off the middle rope! AND NOW HE WRAPS IT AROUND D'ARTOIS'S LEGS! Jack Anderson: Cripes, Robson! He's sliding in and out of the ring, binding d'Artois to the ring post with barbed wire! Jim Robson: That is EXACTLY what he's doing! d'Artois is now wrapped from his chest to his knees in barbed wire and he's bound to the ring post to top it off! [As d'Artois bleeds profusely from his face, arms, and legs, Alexander Dubois pleads him with him to allow him to throw in the towel. And true to his word, even as the drops of blood leave his body, d'Artois will not permit it as he shakes his head vehemently "no".] Jim Robson: I CAN'T BELIEVE D'ARTOIS WON'T QUIT! McMannis picks up the chair! [BANG!] [BANG!] [BANG!] [BANG!] [BANG!] Jim Robson: FIVE CHAIR SHOTS BROUGHT DOWN ACROSS THE HEAD OF D'ARTOIS! d'Artois lifts his head and ... SPITS IN NATE'S FACE! [BANG!] [BANG!] [BANG!] [BANG!] [BANG!] [BANG!] [BANG!] Jim Robson: HE'S GONE BERZERK! NATE MCMANNIS HAS LOST IT! THROW IN THE TOWEL, DUBOIS! YOU SHOW MERCY RIGHT NOW AND HE'LL OWE YOU A HELLUVA LOT MORE THAN YOU THINK HE'S GONNA TAKE AWAY! [BANG!] [BANG!] Jack Anderson: Here comes Lugen Karnovasch! [Lugen sways his head at Dubois.] Jim Robson: Indeed it is, and he's ORDERING Alexander Dubois NOT to throw in that towel! [Trevor Storm screams across the ring at the two servents of d'Artois to give it up. Geoff Cartwright implores them to do the same.] Jim Robson: McMannis looks Dubois in the eyes ... [BANG!] Jim Robson: Oh my GOD! McMannis looks at Dubois again and sees he still hasn't thrown it in! [BANG!] Jack Anderson: This isn't right! This is bordering the lines of attempted murder, Robson! Jim Robson: I'm not condoning it, but you know where McMannis's is coming from! d'Artois is the man that nearly ended his career and the commissioner wants payback! McMannis looks at Dubois once more. [BANG!] Jim Robson: Throw it in! Throw it in! Jack Anderson: What the hell is going on here? Jim Robson: Dubois just hung his head and ... he's taken a seat near the railing with his eyes closed! Dubois isn't watching! [BANG!] [Dubois flinches at the sound of the particularly violent last shot.] . . . . . DING DING DING Jim Robson: THANK GOD! THANK GOD! REFEREE GEOFF CARTWRIGHT HAS SIGNALED FOR THE BELL! HE'S ENDING IT! Francine: Ladies and gentlemen ... the winner of this match ... ... AND STILL IWF/WOW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION ... ["Down With The Sickness" by Disturbed plays.] ... "S U I C I D A L" N A T E M C M A N N I S ! ! ! ! ! [McMannis drops the chair as the medical team storms the ring. He falls into the ropes that he cut the barbed wire from and looks on, breathing heavily, as d'Artois is unwound from the barbed wire and placed on a stretcher.] Jim Robson: Nate McMannis RETAINS! What a brutal match Jack. That was tooth and nail, blood and gore. Whether we like it or not, we'll never forget that one. It'll be seared into our minds. Jack Anderson: The Hell you say. Well, the title is still with McMannis so everything is rosey for all you people, therefore we can go ahead and go on to the next matchup. Jim Robson: Hold on now, Jack. Trevor Storm is going into the ring to congratulate McMannis and I think he deserves it. Let's at least stick around long enough to see him get the respect he deserves. And hey, Nate and Trevor could start up quite the friendship here based around the hatred for UA. Jack Anderson: Awwww, how special is that? [Trevor carefully steps through the barbwire ropes confining the wrestlers inside, making his way to the still very out of it Nate McMannis. Trevor walks over and helps him up, raising Nate's arm in victory.] Jim Robson: What a team those two will ma- [Suddenly, Trevor spins McMannis around catching him by the throat, and lifting him up off the ground.] Jim Robson: POINTS OF AUTHORITY ON McMANNIS FROM TREVOR STORM!!! Jack Anderson: WOW! I didn't know the kid had it in him! [Storm slams McMannis down to the mat via the Points of Authority onto some remains of the barbwire debris. McMannis' body goes instantly limp, but in reflexes still wrenching a little to the side as the barbs pierce into his back.] Jim Robson: WHAT IS THE MEANING, IF ANY, OF THIS?! WHAT JUST SNAPPED IN TREVOR STORM'S HEAD?! Jack Anderson: I don't know but I lov- Jim Robson: WAIT! He isn't finished! Storm picks up McMannis from the floor! NO DON'T DO IT! [Storm hoists up McMannis in a suplex position but instead of falling back with him, Storm just sits, driving all of McMannis' weight down on his own neck. McMannis falls over, going completely limp.] Jack Anderson: OL' PAINLESS ON MCMANNIS! I LOVE IT! Jim Robson: Shut up Jack. This could be it for McMannis! He's been through enough tonight already! He's in no shape to be experiencing this! Jack Anderson: Who cares! Uh oh, Jim. Storm isn't done. [Storm kneels down, leaning over McMannis who appears to be totally out of it. A grin curls over Trevor's lips as he just starts smacking the back of McMannis' head.] Jim Robson: How could he do that? He's taunting a man who's down! Who's just survived the most brutal fight of his life! WHAT KIND OF MAN IS TREVOR STORM! WHAT KIND OF HUMAN BEING COULD DO THIS! [Trevor Storm walks over to the ref, who's holding McMannis' IC belt, forcefully Trevor jerks it away throwing it across his own shoulder and walking back over to McMannis.] Jim Robson: Trevor Storm has the Intercontinental Championship belt across _HIS_ shoulder! Has he gone nuts? Jack Anderson: Looks like it. [Storm throws the belt down onto McMannis who makes no movements, his body just takes the impact of the belt. Storm walks over him, looking down on McMannis.] Jim Robson: Now what? He hasn't done enough? He-OH NO! He just spit on McMannis! How could he do this? Jack Anderson: I'm loving this Jim. Absolutely loving this. I had no idea Trevor Storm had this kind of tenacity. This kind of. Well. _RAGE_! [Trevor Storm quickly walks to a ring official motioning for a mic, before the official can actually hand him the mic, Trevor jerks it away from his hand, pushing the ring official away, nearly knocking him to the ground.] Jim Robson: Okay. Get security out here. This went beyond ridiculous a long time ago. Jack Anderson: No wait. The man has something to say. [Trevor take the towel out of his back pocket throwing it to the ground. He carefully moves the hair out of his eyes, and draws the mic closer to his mouth.] Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOO!!! TREVOR STORM: I came into this federation with this idea of me being the savior. The one true hero that could make everything right, the way everything should be. Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOO!!! TREVOR STORM: Shut up. Just SHUT up! Crowd: YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! Jim Robson: The crowd isn't liking this at all. TREVOR STORM: I was going to be the light at the end of the tunnel. But, I’ve noticed a lot of things since I’ve been here. Everyone talks about good and evil, everyone lives in this fairy tale world where it’s a battle of good versus evil. What I don’t understand is this. There is no good in this league, and there is no evil. Only shades of gray. Everyone wants to be bad, but be cheered at the same time. Everyone wants to be in the middle of it all. Well tonight Trevor Storm takes the shades of gray, turns them black and sets all of it on fire. I will make this a fairy tale fed. Except in my story. In Trevor Storm’s story good will not succeed. Trevor Storm will overcome all good. Crowd: BOOOOO! Jim Robson: Trevor Storm plans on writing his own story here in the I/W? [Trevor eyes down Nate McMannis.] TREVOR STORM: McMannis you always bitch about how you broke the glass ceiling, how you worked hard, how you busted your ass to be on top. To me Nate, you're the same glass ceiling, the same glass ceiling that you shattered. I plan on taking your glass ceiling, the one you have cast upon me and doing just what you did. Meet it head on, and leave it broken, forgotten, and in shards. Jim Robson: Those are some strong, but misplaced, words coming from Trevor Storm. Jack Anderson: Look at the man’s eyes! He means every word. Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! TREVOR STORM: Go ahead call it treason. I call it _REVOLUTION!_ Jack Anderson: Yeah! Revolution! TREVOR STORM: Oh by the way. Mr. Commissioner I have your respect right here. Jim Robson: TREVOR JUST KICKED NATE McMANNIS IN THE HEAD AGAIN! He makes me SICK! Sick my stomach! [Storm leaves McMannis lying in the ring and walks back up the aisle, ignoring the fans who are pelting him with debrit.] Jim Robson: Just when you think you've seen the worst in people, someone like Trevor Storm sets a new precident. I ... I really can't express myself the way I want to right now. But ladies and gentlemen, in spite of this disgusting turn of events, hold onto your seats because we are just MINUTES away from the biggest world title match, or match _period_, in the history of the IWF/WOW. Justin Arcola defends the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Title against the "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock NEXT! Jack Anderson: Oh yeah! ========================================================================= CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 --- CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 ========================================================================= Jim Robson: This is what it is all about. Jack Anderson: That's right. We are not just _moments_ away from one of the biggest matches in IWF/WOW history... Arcola versus Rock for the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Championship! Jim Robson: Things don't get much bigger than this. These are two of the most bitter rivals ever here in the I/W. They've met before, but this is the biggest match ever between these two. Jack Anderson: The War for Territory match at End of the World V? Nothing! The Towel match these two had at EGOS & ICONS? Good... but this is for the World title. They both desperately want it, and will go all out. Jim Robson: Francine is standing inside the ring. Take it away... ________ ________ / ____/ |/ / ___/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 -=-=-=-=-=- / / / /|_/ / __ \ WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH / /___/ / / / /_/ / Justin Arcola vs Billy Rock \____/_/ /_/\____/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW CHRISTMAS MADNESS 6 -=-=-=-=-=- ---------------------------> WRITER: Chris J. <--------------------------- FRANCINE: The following is the main event of Christmas Madness 6!! [The fans give a good pop.] FRANCINE: It is scheduled for one fall, and is for the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Championship!!! [Another pop by the fans... many of them get to their feet, as they know what is coming up next!] # ... WHATEVER IT TAAAAAKES!!!!! ... # [He's coming. "WHATEVER IT TAKES" by P.O.D growls through the loudspeakers. The fans are uncorked. They erupt as they look toward the aisle ... ] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, hailing from Little Rock, Arkansas, standing 6 feet 4 inches and weighing 258 pounds ... [A silhouette confirming the description forms in the mouth of the aisle behind a smoldering sheet of smoke weaving across the floor. The figure remains idle with his right shoulder pointing toward the aisle ... ] FRANCINE: Here is the challenger... ... "S E R I A L T H R I L L E R" B I L L Y R O C K ! ! ! [His head bows low in a swathe of darkness with his chin tucked into his chest, even as the blend of icy blue and orange spotlights tint his brawny, carved physique. The tendrils of hair slithering down his face, to his upper lip, sway back and forth as they're caught in his deep, heavy breaths. Then, in unison with the first spool of lyrics, the "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock snaps his head backward, whipping the damp chords of light caramel hair from his face. His hair is thick and wavy, riddled with slight curls, ranging in length from his earlobes to the lower back of his neck. He ominously twists his neck, rotating his face toward the aisle, lashing out with that wicked trademark crook in his upper lip. A trim patch of light brunette fur spans his flesh from ear to ear. He calmly swings one foot through the smoke and visually inhales his surroundings, then walks the aisle. Billy's chest swells chillingly as the camera spirals around him. His hands are taped heavily from his knuckles to about three inches above his wrists. The light ricochets off the gleaming material of his black, thigh length tights. The back of these tights carry the emblem of a confederate flag with Billy's own twist. An orange canvass behind a pair of blue crossbones. The white stars rallying across each bone lead to a white skull in the center wearing a sinfully immoral grin. You'll find an exact replica on the front sans the orange backdrop. Billy wears black knee-pads, and just below these, a pair of white and black cowboy boots ... ] Jim Robson: The fans are going wild for the "Serial Thriller"! Jack Anderson: [plugging his ears because the fans are so loud] What? I can't hear you! [Upon reaching the ring, Billy perches himself on the apron, and just as the steady interlude in the song vehemently hits the roof, so does he, rising and thrusting his arms over his head in a spectacular moment that also sees a pillar of blue and orange flames spurt from each of the four posts. The Serial Thriller climbs through the ropes and awaits the bell ... ] Jim Robson: Billy Rock is in the ring, and he has a determined look on his face. He's going to give it 110% in the ring here tonight. Jack Anderson: And you don't think Justin Arcola won't be giving it 110% himself? Jim Robson: I didn't say that. Jack Anderson: Good. Because you know the World title means a lot to Arcola. He has a lot of pride over the fact that he has brought respect back to the title, after the likes of Eric Travers and Hightower. Jim Robson: Although I do agree that Arcola has been a fighting champion, and has a lot of pride over the title, I have to argue about one thing. The IWF/WOW World Championship has a lot of respect to it. People like Travers have held it and defended it well, just as well as some past stars like Derrick DaMann, or AJ Stanson. [The opening overdriven guitars of Facelift's "It Ain't Like That" bring the crowd to their feet. There are cheers, but largely out of simple respect. Those who like to play along with the good guy/bad guy frame generate some heat.] Jack Anderson: And here comes the Champion!! [The song continues...] # There I was, laid out on a table # # Screamin' sweat and bare feet to the floor # # In my life, I'd not soften # # Things that cut, and burn so often # # But I sit, think of somethin' # # Scared to face, the dyin' nothin' # # See the cycle I've waited for # # It ain't like that anymore # FRANCINE: Coming down the aisle, from Rochester, New York, standing 6 feet, 3 inches tall and weighing in at 252 pounds... he is the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion... J U S T I N A R C O L A !!! [Suddenly, a floodlight comes up on the entranceway and the crowd comes to their feet. From behind the curtain steps Justin Arcola, clad in his traditional blue jeans, leather studded belt, and black combat boots. He stands at the center of the entranceway with his head titlted downward and his arms out at his sides, casting an eerie shadow in the white floodlight. As the light fades to a single spot, casting darkness all around him, Arcola unstraps the World Heavyweight Title from his waist and holds it down at his side.] # Where I go is when I feel I'm able # # How I fight is why I'm feelin' sore # # In my mind, not forgotten # # Feel as though, a tooth were rotten # # Behind the smile, a tongue that's slippin' # # Buzzards cry, when flesh is rippin' # # See the cycle I've waited for # # It ain't like that anymore # [Arcola thrusts his arm in the air, raising the title belt to the heavens for all to see. He drapes the belt over his shoulder and sharply starts a walk to the ring. The fans don't heckle him, but aren't exactly rushing out to him with open arms either; they don't really know what to make of him. Arcola climb up onto the apron and turns back to the crowd before stepping in through the ropes.] # Here I sit writing on the paper # # Trying to make the words you can't ignore # # In my eyes, what I'm lacking # # Score at face, a ten for slacking # # Sign the deal, set in motion # # Smaller fish, so huge the ocean # # See the cycle I've waited for # # It ain't like that anymore # [Arcola stands in the center of the ring and takes the belt off his shoulder, once again raising it in the air as flashbulbs light up the arena. The lights come back up to their full level and Arcola hands the World Title to the timekeeper. He walks over to the corner and stretches himself on the top rope, waiting for the match to begin.] Jim Robson: Arcola is all business. Jack Anderson: He's ready. It was a big moment for him when he won the World title back at Summer Explosion, but tonight, when he beats his long-time enemy Billy Rock, it could be an even bigger moment. Jim Robson: *If* he beats him. As you may notice, Arcola now only has the World title around his waist as he conceded his half of the World Tag Team titles to America's Least Wanted, who won the Tag Team Turmoil bought earlier tonight. [In the ring, Arcola and Rock get face to face - with only referee Geoff Cartwright and the World Heavyweight title between them. Camera flashes from fans in the arena go off, as they await the start of this match.] Jack Anderson: They are face to face... this is going to be good! [Arcola hands the title over to Cartwright, who holds it high in the air for all to see. Rock and Arcola are still face to face - neither taking their eyes off of each other. The fans inside the Fleet Center are pumped.] Jim Robson: We are just about ready to get underway. DING! DING! DING! Jack Anderson: There is the bell! Jim Robson: But neither Rock or Arcola are moving. They are both still looking each other dead in the eye. [Arcola backs off for a split-second... and then turns around to drill Rock... but...] Jack Anderson: ROCK BLOCKS THE HARD RIGHT HAND! Jim Robson: AND HE FIRES BACK WITH ONE OF HIS OWN AND WE ARE OFF! Billy Rock drills Arcola again, and Arcola is wheeling. Rock has Arcola... he whips him into the ropes. Jack Anderson: Here comes the World Champion! Jim Robson: ROCK DRILLS HIM WITH A CLOTHESLINE! Arcola falls down to the mat. Rock bounces off the ropes... LEG DROP! NO! Arcola moves and Rock hits the mat. Jack Anderson: But he quickly jumps to his feet. Rock and Arcola are both up on their feet and are looking at each other. Jim Robson: It's been back and forth all the way. Jack Anderson: The fans are on their feet. Jim Robson: AND HERE COMES BILLY ROCK!! HE COMES AFTER ARCOLA... SHOULDER TACKLE SENDS ARCOLA OFF HIS FEET! But Arcola bounces right back up... Arcola comes after Rock... HIP TOSS BY ROCK! Jack Anderson: Arcola is getting to his feet, although slowly. Rock comes after him and gets a hold of him... SNAP SUPLEX BY BILLY ROCK!! Jim Robson: Rock has Arcola down on the mat and he is going for the quick cover... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . And Arcola easily kicks out! Jack Anderson: Did Billy Rock really think he would have Arcola pinned *that* easily!?! Jim Robson: Maybe not - but the whole point is to get a pin, and that is just what Rock tried. Jack Anderson: But he gave Arcola a couple seconds to recover, and that is not what you want to do. I think that it could be a mistake and may cost Rock down the line. Jim Robson: Well Rock isn't wasting anymore time. He has Arcola up once again and has Arcola in a side headlock. Arcola is trying to get free, but he can push himself away from Rock. Jack Anderson: Rock's grip on Arcola is tight, but look at Arcola... he's trying to pick Rock up for a back suplex... he's got him off his feet... BUT NO! Rock shifts his weight and takes Arcola down to the mat! [Arcola falls to the mat; however, Billy Rock keeps the side headlock on him.] Jim Robson: Billy Rock won't relase that hold. He is trying to wear Arcola down, and that is probably a good idea at this point. Jack Anderson: You're probably right. This match could go on a while, as neither man is about to quit anytime soon. Jim Robson: Justin Arcola is fighting to get free from Billy Rock, but Rock isn't buging. Jack Anderson: Although it looks like Rock is trying to get to his feet once again, but without releasing the hold.] [Cautiously, Rock gets to his feet, bringing Arcola with him as he refuses to let go of him.] Jim Robson: Rock turns himself around and turns the move into a front face lock... HOLD ON A MINUTE! HE TURNS IT INTO A DDT! BILLY ROCK JUST DRILLED JUSTIN ARCOLA WITH A DDT AND ARCOLA IS DOWN! Jack Anderson: Oh, no! Jim Robson: Rock covers once again... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . KICKOUT BY JUSTIN ARCOLA! Jack Anderson: With ease, once again. Rock better not underestimate Arcola here tonight. Jim Robson: Trust me, he isn't. These two have had many classic matches in the past and Rock knows what Arcola has in him. I think Rock is trying to catch Arcola off guard and maybe get a surprise pinfall. Jack Anderson: Arcola is getting to his feet. Rock is waiting, and setting him up. Arcola is up... Jim Robson: WAIT!! WAIT!!! ROCK HAS ARCOLA... [MEGA pop from the fans!] Jim Robson: OZARK DEATHRIDE!! OZARK DEATHRIDE!!! OZARK DEATHRIDE!!!! [That's a Reverse Death Valley Driver from those of you who don't know.] Jack Anderson: My god... where did that come from!?! Jim Robson: I'm not sure, but Rock has just hit Arcola with some high impact offense here early in this match, and it might just get the "Serial Thriller" the World Championship. Jack Anderson: I don't think anyone has ever kicked out of that! Jim Robson: Rock cover Justin Arcola.... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [can Justin Arcola kick out of Billy Rock's finisher!?!] . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _________ARCOLA KICKS OUT_________!!!! Jack Anderson: *YES*! Jim Robson: Woah! I cannot believe that... Arcola just kicked out of the Ozark Deathride! Jack Anderson: It is still early, and Arcola has a lot left in him. Don't count him out yet. Jim Robson: I wouldn't normally, but the Deathride is a devastating finisher. As you said just a few seconds ago, I do not remember anyone ever kicking out after it being applied before. Jack Anderson: There is always a first time for everything! Jim Robson: I guess you are right. Jack Anderson: Rock looks surprised. Jim Robson: I don't blame him. Jack Anderson: Arcola gets picked up by Billy Rock now. Arcola is being setup by Rock... Rock is going for a piledriver now... NO!!! REVERSAL BY JUSTIN ARCOLA!! ARCOLA SENDS ROCK OVER THE TOP OF HIM!! Jim Robson: Both Justin Arcola and Billy Rock get to their feet. Jack Anderson: Rock charges after Justin. Jim Robson: BUT JUSTIN CATCHES HIM AND SENDS ROCK OVER THE TOP AND TO THE OUTSIDE!! [CLANG!] [Rock goes flying over the top... and when he lands outside, he hits the metal guardrail. Fans who are sitting behind the guardrail rush over to Rock to make sure he is okay, and to help him up to his feet.] Jack Anderson: Oh my, Rock's back hit that hard. Jim Robson: He is grabbing his back. I think he is in some serious pain out there folks. Jack Anderson: I agree. Jim Robson: But he's fighting it. Jack Anderson: WAIT! HERE COMES JUSTIN ARCOLA AGAIN!! [CLANG!!!] Jim Robson: BASEBALL SLIDE KICK BY JUSTIN ARCOLA!! [As Arcola drilled Rock with the baseball slide kick, Rock once again was shoved into the metal guardrail. As before, the fans behind the guardrail try to help Rock up, but this time it appears that his back is in too much pain to get up.] Jack Anderson: This could be it for Billy Rock! Jim Robson: It doesn't look good. He is in a lot of pain. Jack Anderson: Arcola is in the ring with a smile on his face. He knows that thanks to the back injury to Rock, he might just have this one in the bag. I love it. Jim Robson: It's not over yet though. Jack Anderson: Rock still hasn't moved. Arcola is looking dead on at him. Jim Robson: Referee Geoff Cartwright is starting a count on Rock. 1 . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . 3 . . . . . . . . . Jack Anderson: Rock is starting to move. Jim Robson: But he is still far from getting up and getting back in the ring. 4 . . . . . . . . . 5 . . . . . . . . . 6 . . . . . . . . . Jim Robson: Billy Rock is fighting. [Arcola, still looking down at Rock, yelling at Rock: "COME ON, GET IN HERE!".] Jim Robson: Looks like Justin Arcola wants to finish this one in the ring, and not have it be a countout. Jack Anderson: Just like the true fighting champion that he is. [A small chant among the fans breaks out... "LETS GO ROCK, LETS GO!"] Jack Anderson: I wish these fans would shut up. 7 . . . . . . . . . [Rock gets to his feet as the fans chanting gets louder and louder.] Jim Robson: These fans are really starting to get behind Billy Rock and he is starting to feet off the energy and get back in the ring. Jack Anderson: But his back is still a mess. 8 . . . . . . . . . 9 . . . . . . . . . [Rock rolls under the ropes to break the count.] Jim Robson: AND BILLY ROCK IS BACK IN THE RING!! [But he doesn't have a chance to get to his feet as Arcola comes right over to him and starts stomping on him.] Jack Anderson: Now Justin Arcola is going right to work on him. Jim Robson: Arcola has Rock setup... GUTWRENCH SUPLEX INTO A PINNING COMBINATION!! Referee Geoff Cartwright goes down for the count... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . [POP!] ROCK KICKS OUT! Jack Anderson: Damnit! Jim Robson: Jack, you said it when Arcola kicked out of Rock's attempts, so now I will say it to you - it will take a lot more than that to pin Billy Rock. Jack Anderson: But I thought Arcola had a chance. Maybe Rock wanted to give up because of his back injury. Jim Robson: I am sure Billy Rock is in a lot of pain, but I don't think he would think about giving up for even a second. The World Championship is that important. Jack Anderson: It means everything here in the IWF/WOW... it tells everyone that you are the top dog. Jim Robson: And right now the top dog here in the I/W is Justin Arcola, and he has Rock in his grips... Arcola has Rock.... NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!! Oh my! Rock is down once again! Jack Anderson: But look at him! He's clutching that back... Rock is in more pain than ever. How much more of this can he take!? How much more until Rock is forced to give up... to submit to the man who maybe the greatest World Champion in IWF/WOW history! [The fans, shocked at how Arcola has taken over this match, remain fairly quiet, with only a few cheers from people hoping Rock can recover.] Jim Robson: Arcola is strongly in control, and doesn't appear to be letting go of it anytime soon. Jack Anderson: He is the _man_! Jim Robson: No one can question that at this moment. But there are twenty thousand fans here who are hoping that Billy Rock can become the man by defeating Arcola. Jack Anderson: But he is a long ways away. Jim Robson: Rock is slowly getting to his feet. But Arcola comes over... he has him... [*GASP*] [Many fans in the arena can be heard crying "NOOOOOOOOOO!"] Jim Robson: ARCOLA DRIVER BY JUSTIN ARCOLA!!! Jack Anderson: IT'S OVER! IT'S OVER! IT'S OVER! ARCOLA RETAINS THE TITLE! IT'S OFFICIAL! Jim Robson: It is not... it's not over yet. Jack Anderson: Sure it is. There is no way that Billy Rock will kick out of the Arcola Driver. Not after all the punishment that he has taken. Jim Robson: Arcola is covering Rock now... Cartwright is going for the count... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [Fans in the arena begin chanting "ROCK! ROCK! ROCK!".] . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [HUGE POP!!] . . . . . . ROCK KICKS OUT!!! Jack Anderson: _____WHAT_____???? Jim Robson: You heard me, Rock kicked out! Jack Anderson: I cannot believe that! Billy Rock just kicked out of the Arcola Driver! Jim Robson: Yes he did! Jack Anderson: Come on Arcola! Get him! Jim Robson: This has been an amazing encounter between Rock and Arcola so far. Both men want the title so much. Jack Anderson: Arcola is on his feet. He is not letting the fact that Rock kicked out of the Arcola Driver phase him at all. He has Billy Rock in his hands now... ARCOLA WITH A GUTBUSTER DROP ON BILLY ROCK! Jim Robson: Ohh! Jack Anderson: Working over both his back and front now I see. Good job, Justin! Jim Robson: Arcola is going for the pin once again... can Rock hang on? 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . ROCK KICKS OUT!! You can tell from that kickout that Billy Rock still has a lot left in him. He is not going to let this one finish easily. Jack Anderson: Yeah, yeah... "he's going to fight to the end, blah, blah". Jim Robson: Arcola is looking down at Billy Rock. He's yelling at him... telling him to get up and fight like a champion. Jack Anderson: But Rock is motionless! Jim Robson: HOLD ON A MINUTE!!! ROCK GRABS ARCOLA'S HEAD AND PULLS HIM DOWN!! SMALL PACKAGE BY BILLY ROCK!! I THINK HE MIGHT HAVE HIM!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [POP!] . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3??????? NO!! ARCOLA KICKS OUT!! [As Arcola kicks out, both he and Billy Rock are down on the mat. Fans in the arena begin chanting "BILLY ROCK! BILLY ROCK! BILLY ROCK!". Rock, perhaps respond to the fans enthusiasm, begins to get to his feet.] Jack Anderson: There isn't much left to Billy Rock now. Look at him. Jim Robson: However, it does appear that he really is feeding off the fans here in the Fleet Center. He's fighting to get to his feet. Jack Anderson: But Arcola doesn't have to. He's getting right up and going after Rock. Jim Robson: But Rock catches him... INVERTED ATOMIC DROP BY BILLY ROCK!! Jack Anderson: Justin Arcola is still on his feet though! Jim Robson: Not for long... ROCK KNOCKS HIM DOWN WITH A MONSTER CLOTHESLINE!! Rock is getting his second wind here folks. Jack Anderson: Rock doesn't wait for Arcola to get back up. He goes right over and picks him up. But look at him, he is still clutching his back. The pain has got to be there for Billy Rock. Jim Robson: I know it is, but he will not stop fighting. Rock whips Arcola into the corner... ARCOLA HITS HARD!! Rock backs up for a moment... AND NOW HE CHARGES IN AFTER ARCOLA!! ROCK JUST DRILLED ARCOLA WITH A BODY PRESS IN THE CORNER!! Jack Anderson: Look at Billy Rock. Look at his eyes! He's a madman! Jim Robson: Arcola is still in the corner as Rock climbs to the second ropes... AND ROCK STARTS DRILLING ARCOLA WITH SOME HARD SHOTS TO THE HEAD!! [As Rock drills Arcola, the crowd counts along.] Crowd: 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10!!! [Finally, referee Geoff Cartwright makes Rock back off.] Jim Robson: Arcola is stumbling out of the corner now... Jack Anderson: Rock is setting him up for one more shot to the head!! Jim Robson: NO!! BLOCKED BY JUSTIN ARCOLA!! Jack Anderson: Yeah! Jim Robson: ARCOLA FIRES BACK WITH A SIDDEN CLAP TO THE EARS! Jack Anderson: Rock is somewhat stunned. Jim Robson: ARCOLA NOW WITH A BOOT TO THE MIDSECTION! He's got him... GERMAN SUPLEX BY JUSTIN ARCOLA!! Jack Anderson: Oh yeah! The Champ is back in charge. Jim Robson: Rock is down on the mat as Arcola turns Rock's head to the side, and fires a half dozen or so _hard_ punches to the ear. Just what is Justin Arcola doing? Jack Anderson: I'm not real sure. Jim Robson: Arcola now hops right to his feet and quickly bounces off the ropes... here he comes... JUMPING ELBOW DROP DOWN ONTO ROCK'S EAR! This is crazy. Arcola is making the focus of his attack now on Rock's ear. Jack Anderson: Well... hey, I think I just figured it out. Arcola's one smart cookie, right? Jim Robson: Right. Jack Anderson: Well, ever been hit in the ear? Jim Robson: Can't say that I have. Jack Anderson: Well, the inner ear is the center of balance in the human body. If it's bludgeoned, it throws off any bit of balance that a person has. They go into vertigo; up is down, down is up, and the world seems to spin for them. A man in vertigo stands little chance in a fight until if and when it wears off. Jim Robson: If you're right, then that was a smart move on the part of Justin Arcola. Jack Anderson: Of course I'm right. Jim Robson: Arcola is standing back for a moment, letting Rock get to his feet. [As Rock stands up, he begins to stumble around the ring like a drunk.] Jack Anderson: Hey, it's the Idol in there! Jim Robson: Oh, please. At least show some respect for him. Jack Anderson: I wonder how his AA meetings have be going? Jim Robson: I don't know. Rock is trying to move around, but is having a hard time. He's holding onto the ring ropes trying to figure out what is going on. Jack Anderson: And now here comes Arcola!! Jim Robson: Arcola from behind Rock... T-BONE SUPLEX BY THE WORLD CHAMPION!!! Jack Anderson: OH YEAH! Jim Robson: Arcola goes for the cover... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ROCK MANAGES TO KICK OUT!! Jack Anderson: So close! I could almost smell it. Jim Robson: Arcola isn't wasting anytime. He rolls Rock over and... and... HE'S APPLYING THE CANADIAN CROSSFACE!! Jack Anderson: ROCK IS IN PAIN!! Jim Robson: Yes he is... Arcola has many tough submission moves, and this maybe his toughest! Jack Anderson: And there is nothing that Billy Rock can do! Jim Robson: But don't expect him to give up at all. Jack Anderson: Justin Arcola is very capable of dislocating a limb, even breaking it, so Rock had better be careful. After all the punishment to his back earlier, or his balance just moments ago, Rock is in serious trouble. [The fans inside the arena really start to get behind Billy Rock, cheering him on. Rock continues to fight the Canadian Crossface, refusing to give up, but Arcola won't release the hold.] Jim Robson: Rock is really fighting to get to his feet. He is going all out! [A fan of Billy Rock who is sitting behind Robson and Anderson can be overheard yelling "GET UP BILLY!".] Jack Anderson: These two superstars are giving it all for the fans of the IWF/WOW! Jim Robson: What a Christmas present indeed. Jack Anderson: Cartwright is asking Rock if he gives up... [The fans give a huge pop as Rock shakes his head "NO".] Jim Robson: And Justin Arcola lets go of Billy Rock! Jack Anderson: He knows Rock will not submit. He knows it is hopeless to leave the Canadian Crossface on all day. But while Rock won't submit to it, it did wear him out even more. Jim Robson: Rock is in more trouble than he has even been. Jack Anderson: He really is in rough shape. Jim Robson: Billy Rock rolls into the corner to try and catch a break. Jack Anderson: Arcola isn't going to let him rest for long. Jim Robson: No he is not. Rock is trying to get up... he is on his knees. Here comes Arcola.... HARD RIGHT HAND TO THE GUT OF JUSTIN ARCOLA!! Jack Anderson: Ohh! That stopped Arcola for a moment! Jim Robson: Arcola backs up for a moment, but then turns around and comes right back... AND ANOTHER SHOT TO THE GUT BY ROCK!! Jack Anderson: Rock gets to his feet! Jim Robson: But he is still a bit dizzy! He nearly fell back down once he got up. Jack Anderson: Rock comes after Arcola... Jim Robson: BUT ARCOLA MOVES AND HITS ROCK WITH ANOTHER SHOT TO THE EARS... AND AGAIN... AND AGAIN... AND AGAIN!! Jack Anderson: Arcola is repeatedly hitting Rock in the ears, making sure that Rock cannot keep his balance, so that he can remain in charge. Jim Robson: Justin Arcola is one of the smartest men in the game. He knows that Billy Rock is one of the toughest men in the IWF/WOW, but if he can keep him off his feet, he stands could just pull out the win. Jack Anderson: Could? I know he will. Justin Arcola is brilliant in the ring and will do whatever it takes to win. Jim Robson: Billy Rock is still fighting though. He is trying his hardest! Jack Anderson: But anytime he even gets close to getting to his feet, he falls right back down because he is dizzy. Jim Robson: Arcola picks Rock right up... he has him... FISHERMAN'S SUPLEX INTO A PINNING COMBINATION! Cartwright counts... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [POP!] . . . . . . . . . . . ROCK KICKS OUT!! Jack Anderson: So close, yet so far. Justin Arcola almost had the match won right then and there. Jim Robson: Arcola isn't giving Rock anymore time to recover. He's picking him up one more time. Arcola has the Serial Thriller... Jack Anderson: Oh my! Watch this... [GASP!] Jim Robson: ARCOLA DRIVER! Jack Anderson: He hit it... *again*! Jim Robson: Rock is in some serious trouble now. Jack Anderson: I do not think Rock will be able to come back now. It is all over for him! Jim Robson: Rock was able to kick out the first time... will the second time be a charm for Justin Arcola? Cartwright goes down for the count... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [is it over?] . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ______________________NO______________________ [MEGA POP!] ROCK GOT A SHOULDER UP AT THE VERY LAST _SECOND_! Jack Anderson: __OH__MY__GOD__!! How in the world did Billy Rock manage to get out of that... HOW!? I just don't get it. After two times, it should be all over with. Jim Robson: After all the punishment that Billy Rock has taken, he refuses to give up. That has to say something about the type of character that Rock is. Jack Anderson: Arcola is back up... he is trying to shrug off the fact that Rock kicked out of the Arcola driver for a second time, but you have to think that deep down he is wondering what it will take to put away Billy Rock. Jim Robson: Arcola has Rock once again... BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX BY JUSTIN ARCOLA!! Jack Anderson: But look at Rock... even after that move, he is still fighting to get up. [The fans in the arena begin chanting and giving Billy Rock their support... "ROCK! ROCK! ROCK"] Jack Anderson: Shut up! Jim Robson: The fans are cheering on Billy Rock. Jack Anderson: Oh, give me a break. Jim Robson: Arcola comes over by Rock... HE DROPS AN ELBOW DOWN ONTO ROCK! [The fans get louder, and louder. Billy Rock, feeding off the energy from the fans, continues his fight to get up, despite the continued attacks of Justin Arcola.] Jim Robson: Rock is really feeding off these fans. Jack Anderson: It's almost like their support is giving him a third wind! Jim Robson: Arcola isn't going to let Rock recover though. He comes over... he picks up Rock... Irish whip sends Billy Rock into the ropes. Jack Anderson: Watch out... Jim Robson: WAIT! Rock holds onto the ropes. Arcola comes after him... ROCK PICKS ARCOLA UP... HE DROPS ARCOLA OVER THE TOP ROPE!!! Ohh, my! That is going to hurt. Jack Anderson: Arcola falls to the mat, as does Billy Rock. Rock is in worse shape than Arcola, but it looks like he is starting to get some of that back. Jim Robson: And if he does, Arcola is in trouble. Jack Anderson: Arcola is to his feet now... Jim Robson: Here he comes after Billy Rock... Jack Anderson: Justin Arcola is going to drill him with another shot to the ears! Jim Robson: NO!! IT'S BLOCKED BY BILLY ROCK!! Jack Anderson: What!? Jim Robson: AND NOW ROCKS DRILLS ARCOLA WITH A SHOT TO THE HEAD!! Rock catches Arcola... NECKBREAKER BY BILLY ROCK!! Jack Anderson: ARCOLA IS DOWN! Jim Robson: Rock is still in pain... but he's moving over to cover Justin Arcola... Cartwright goes for the count... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ARCOLA KICKS OUT!!! Jack Anderson: He is a fighting champion! Jim Robson: But the tide is quickly turning to the favour of Billy Rock. Jack Anderson: Don't speak too soon. Jim Robson: Rock is to his feet! Jack Anderson: But Justin Arcola is as well! Jim Robson: ROCK SPEARS ARCOLA INTO THE CORNER!! Jack Anderson: Rock backs off a bit from the corner. Jim Robson: Arcola kind falls out of the corner and into Rock's arms. WAIT!! ROCK PICKS ARCOLA UP!! Jack Anderson: NO!!!!!!! Jim Robson: __YES__!! [MEGA POP!] OZARK DEATHRIDE!! OZARK DEATHRIDE!! OZARK DEATHRIDE!! __IT__IS__OVER__! Rock covers Arcola... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . !!!_______________________KICKOUT____________________!!! !!! ARCOLA KICKED OUT !!! Jack Anderson: My god... my god... Justin Arcola is not human! Jim Robson: How could anyone kick out of *two* Deathrides in *one* match!? Jack Anderson: Probably the same way Rock kicked out of two Arcola Driver's! Jim Robson: These two men have gone through an ungodly amount of punishment. This is amazing folks, just amazing. Jack Anderson: And it is still not over! Jim Robson: I don't know how much either of these men have left though. They have given it their all. Jack Anderson: Rock is in disbelief. Jim Robson: So am I... this is an amazing showing by both men. Rock is to his feet. Jack Anderson: But so is Justin Arcola... Jim Robson: ARCOLA CHARGES BILLY ROCK! Jack Anderson: ARCOLA GRABS ROCK BY THE HAIR! Jim Robson: ROCK IS IN TROUBLE! Jack Anderson: ARCOLA HAS HIM SETUP... Jim Robson: HOLD ON A SECOND!! _________________ARCOLA DRIVER_________________!!! _________________ARCOLA DRIVER_________________!!! _________________ARCOLA DRIVER_________________!!! That's the third time we have seen that move in this match... The count... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [is it a pinfall?] . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [MEGA POP!] . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! _____BILLY ROCK_____ WINS THE IWF/WOW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE AFTER DRILLING ARCOLA WITH HIS OWN FINSIHER!!!!! DING! DING! DING! # ... WHATEVER IT TAAAAAKES!!!!! ... # ["WHATEVER IT TAKES" by P.O.D blares as the fans go _wild_.] Jack Anderson: ____NO___!! I cannot believe this! Rock beat Arcola after his own finisher. Jim Robson: He couldn't do it with his own, so want not try his enemies? Jack Anderson: Because... because... Jim Robson: Well, it obviously worked! [Arcola remains on the outside of the ring, holding what was his I/W World Heavyweight title. Meanwhile, inside the ring, Rock is standing on one of the turnbuckles, holding his arms high in the air in victory. Cameras go off all around the arena, as fans take pictures of the new champ.] FRANCINE: The winner of the match... and ____NEW____ IWF/WOW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION.... "SERIAL THRILLER" BILLY ROCK ! ! ! [MEGA POP!] Jim Robson: Folks, there he is... the undisputed champion of the world. [From the back, out comes Maverick... followed by Razor Ron Jeremy, the Boys Next Door... and Rock's best friend, Nate McMannis, who is obviously limping after the attack by Trevor Storm earlier in the night.] Jim Robson: And here come some of Rock's best friends to celebrate Billy's victory. They are all flooding the ring to congratulate him. Jack Anderson: This makes me sick. Jim Robson: There is nothing wrong with celebrating something great Jack. Jack Anderson: But this isn't great. [After a few moments, Justin Arcola, who still has the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight championship, gets into the ring.] Jack Anderson: Oh yeah!! This is going to be good... maul him! [Rock's music stops. Arcola looks directly at Rock, and the two get into a stare off.] Jim Robson: What is going through the mind of Justin Arcola? Jack Anderson: I don't know! [Arcola sticks his hand out to offer a handshake with Rock. Rock looks at him and pauses.] Jack Anderson: This is gonna be good... the 'ol fake handshake! It's the oldest trick in the book! [Rock shakes the hand back of Arcola. Arcola then raises the arm of Billy Rock up, as the fans let out a pop, and the other wrestlers in the ring applaud the move of sportsmanship.] Jim Robson: Now that's class by Justin Arcola. Jack Anderson: What!? That's not supposed to happen. Jim Robson: But it is. [Arcola then straps the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight title around the waist of Billy Rock as the fans in the Fleet Center continue to pop, as flashes from cameras go off repeatedly. ] Jim Robson: Now this is what it is all about! [Arcola raises the arm of Billy Rock one more time to an unprecedented eruption of cheers from the crowd.] Jim Robson: What a night... [Arcola then goes to leave the ring.] Jim Robson: Folks, for Jack Anderson, I'm Jim Robson. We hope you enjoyed Christmas Madness 6... SO LONG EVERYONE! [And we fade from CM6 with a shot of Rock's best friend, "Sucidal" Nate McMannis, giving Rock a huge hug to congratulate him on his win.] [fade] .___ __ _____________ /\ __ __________ __ __ | / \ / \_ _____/ / / / \ / \_____ \/ \ / \ | \ \/\/ /| __) / / \ \/\/ // | \ \/\/ / | |\ / | \ / / \ // | \ / |___| \__/\ / \___ / / / \__/\ / \_______ /\__/\ / \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ (c) IWF/WOW Productions 2001 http://members.home.com/iwfwow/