_//__/ \/_____/'\/__//__/ The IWF/WOW logo then fades in, "It's The End Of The World As We Know It" by REM can be heard playing in the background. As it plays, clips from the events leading up to End of the World are shown on the screen, giving fans a chance to get a little bit more pumped up for the event. # That's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and # # snakes, an aeroplane and Lenny Bruce is not afraid. # # Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn - world # # serves its own needs, dummy serve your own needs. Feed # # it off an aux speak, grunt, no, strength, Ladder # # start to clatter with fear fight down height. Wire # First off, we get to see some clips of "Epic" Eric Travers inside the ring with the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Championship. This is followed up by some classic footage of Jeremy Thranton and the Prophet fighting over the World Title from the original WrestleFest. # in a fire, representing seven games, a government # # for hire and a combat site. Left of west and coming in # # a hurry with the furies breathing down your neck. Team # # by team reporters baffled, trumped, tethered cropped. # # Look at that low playing! Fine, then. Uh oh, # # overflow, population, common food, but it'll do. Save # Next we see "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock and Justin Arcola fighting inside of the ring. We then briefly see Rock winning the IWF/WOW Intercontinental Title. A title he will be defending later on in the night. # yourself, serve yourself. World serves its own needs, # # listen to your heart bleed dummy with the rapture and # # the revered and the right, right. You vitriolic, # # patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty # # psyched. # After that, we get a three way screen. On the left, we have Suicidal Tendency. On the right, Maverick, and in the centre, Shane St. Clair. We see the words "Stairway to Hell" fly across the bottom of the screen. # It's the end of the world as we know it. # # It's the end of the world as we know it. # # It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine. # Briefly, we see a few clips of Carl Lumski pinning Alex Cote in a non-title match... a feat that if he can repeat tonight, he'll walk out with the IWF/WOW North American title. # Six o'clock - TV hour. Don't get caught in foreign # # towers. Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself # # churn. Locking in, uniforming, book burning, blood # # letting. Every motive escalate. Automotive incinerate. # # Light a candle, light a votive. Step down, step down. # Now we see a few clips previewing the Razor Ron Jeremy versus Andrew Johnston match. We see VP Wade Thompson making the match a career ending match. # Watch your heel crush, crushed, uh-oh, this means no # # fear cavalier. Renegade steer clear! A tournament, # # tournament, a tournament of lies. Offer me solutions, # # offer me alternatives and I decline. # After that, clips of all the tag teams involved in the tag team match at End of the World fly by... Pain & Suffering, the Freedom Fighters, the Boston Bad Boys, the Ewiak Brothers and Adam Van Steele and K.J. Sloan. # It's the end of the world as we know it. # # It's the end of the world as we know it. # # It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine. # We get to see clips of the last match left... Desert Scorpion versus Fusion. We see Scorpion and Fusion fighting it out inside of the ring. # The other night I dreamt of knives, continental # # drift divide. Mountains sit in a line, Leonard # # Bernstein. Leonid Brezhnev, Lenny Bruce and Lester # # Bangs. Birthday party, cheesecake, jelly bean, boom! You # # symbiotic, patriotic, slam book neck, right? Right. # As the song slowly comes to an end, we see clips of every IWF/WOW wrestler flash by quickly... Eric Travers, Matt Saunders, Jeremy Thranton, Shane St. Clair, Billy Rock, Fusion, and many more... # It's the end of the world as we know it. # # It's the end of the world as we know it. # # It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel # # fine...fine... # Finally, as the song comes to an end, a huge explosion takes place, and we open up to the End of the World logo... ] ============================================================================ ============= ______ __ _ __ ============= ============= / ____/ ____ / /_ | | / / ============= ============= / __/ / __ \ / __/ | | /| / / ============= ============= / /___ / /_/ / / /_ | |/ |/ / ============= ============= /_____/ N D \____/ F \__/ H E |__/|__/ O R L D ============= ============================================================================ =============== LIVE! On PPV From Vancouver, British Columbia ============== =========================== Sunday May 13th, 2001 ========================== ====================== http://members.home.net/iwfwow ====================== ============================================================================ !!! MAIN EVENT !!! IWF/WOW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE - HANDICAPPED MATCH! "Epic" Eric Travers & the Prophet vs. Jeremy Thranton WAR FOR TERRITORY II! IC TITLE MATCH? "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock vs Justin Arcola ~ No disqualification, no count outs. ~ Best 2 of 3 falls ~ Falls count anywhere in the known galaxy ~ One fall must be won in the ring, the other out of the ring! TRIPLE THREAT STAIRWAR TO HELL MATCH! Shane St. Clair vs Maverick vs Suicidal Tendency NORTH AMERICAN TITLE MATCH Alex Cote vs Carl Lumski CAREER ENDING MATCH! Razor Ron Jeremy vs "The Main Event" Andrew Johnston WORLD TAG TEAM TITLES MATCH - OPEN INVITE! Pain & Suffering vs Boston Bad Boys vs The Ewiak Brothers vs Adam Van Steele and K.J. Sloan vs the Freedom Fighters vs ??????? SINGLES ACTION Desert Scorpion vs Fusion ========================================================================= [Suddenly, the End of the World 5 logo shrinks to the corner. Below it is written: Sunday May 13th, 2001 GM Place Vancouver, British Columbia LIVE! The screen then shows over twenty thousand rapid fans in GM Place in Vancouver, BC, Canada. They are screaming their lungs out, waving posters, signs, flags and everything they possibly could - all in an attempt to get on television, and get noticed.] [After several moments of panning over the arena, _loud_ fireworks above the ring begin to go off, followed by fire bursting out of the ring turnbuckles. The fans let out an even bigger pop, because they know that End of the World 5 is underway. After a few more moments panning the arena, the regular voice of IWF/WOW play-by-play man Jim Robson is heard...] Jim Robson: WELCOME EVERYONE... WELCOME TO VANCOUVER, CANADA... WELCOME TO END OF THE WORLD 5! [The camera continues to move around the arena. We see several signs, including "JON SUX!", "ST. CLAIR RULES", "HI MOM!" and even a sign supporting Diamond Jim. Eventually, the camera moves to Robson and Anderson who are sitting at a desk at ringside.] Jim Robson: Welcome to what maybe one of the most exciting pay-per-view events in IWF/WOW history. This is, without a doubt, one that I would not want to miss. What do you think Jack? Jack Anderson: Oh, for sure! Anything can happen on IWF/WOW pay-per-view. At WrestleFest V in March we saw an amazing five star match between Shane St. Clair and Johnny Spades, the formation of the Trifecta... hell, we even saw the Sex Pistols! Who knows what might go down here tonight. Jim Robson: Especially with the main event here tonight. A handicapped match which has the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion "Epic" Eric Travers and the Prophet on one side, and Jeremy Thranton on the other. Of course, the IWF/WOW title is on the line... Jack Anderson: ... but what isn't right is that Thranton can win the title no matter if he pins Travers, or the Prophet. It's just not fair. Jim Robson: Maybe, but you can't argue about the advantage that Travers has. Jack Anderson: The Trifecta is unstoppable, and two thirds of the Trifecta are involved in this match... now all we need is Elijah Flynt to come out and lend a hand to Travers! Jim Robson: Well, unfortunately, Elijah Flynt has been suspended. Jack Anderson: And what's with that? Come on! Flynt's a good guy. Jim Robson: This is going to be a great match either way, but I am not sure it will match up to War for Territory II - a match in which the Intercontinental Title will also be on the line. Jack Anderson: I'm sure "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock and Justin Arcola are going to put on a hell of a show. For those of you who don't know the rules of a War for Territory match, they are simply this: ~ No disqualification, no count outs. ~ Best 2 of 3 falls ~ Falls count anywhere in the known galaxy ~ One fall must be won in the ring, the other out of the ring! Jim Robson: There has only been one other in IWF/WOW history, taking place a couple years back with Bad Boy McCade and Alex Extreme going at it... and as many of you know, that was Alex Extreme's last IWF/WOW match, and he was unable to return to IWF/WOW competition afterwards. Jack Anderson: And it could happen once again here tonight... it is very well possible that this could be the last IWF/WOW match for one, if not both IWF/WOW superstars. Jim Robson: Also taking place tonight is a very special Stairway to Hell triple threat match. We've got Shane St. Clair. We've got Maverick. And finally, we've got Suicidal Tendency. All three superstars who will go all out to walk away with the win here tonight. Jack Anderson: And don't forget about the astonishing match Shane St. Clair had against Johnny Spades back at WrestleFest. He is more than able to rise to the occasion, and I am sure he can do it again here tonight. Jim Robson: Also tonight we've got the North American title on the line, as Alex Cote defends against Carl Lumski. Jack Anderson: Lumski already has a huge win over Alex Cote, and I really do believe that Lumski, as weird as he is, and as little as I do like him, might just walk out of here tonight with the win. Jim Robson: You're saying new North American Champion? Jack Anderson: I dislike both... but yes. Jim Robson: Interesting. Also, don't forget tonight we have a career-ending match. We'll see Razor Ron Jeremy and Andrew Johnston go at it. Jack Anderson: I really don't think this one is fair... Vice President Wade Thompson forced Johnston into this. But you know what? Johnston already ended the career of former IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion Hightower, and he can do it again tonight against another former champion in RRJ. Jim Robson: He very well could. Johnston is as talented as anyone, but don't put a thing past RRJ. He is one of the best here in the IWF/WOW, and maybe one of the best all time. Jack Anderson: But that could all come to an end, right here in Vancouver BC, tonight! Jim Robson: Yes it could. The IWF/WOW World Tag Team Titles will also make their return here tonight in an open invite tag match. Any tag team out there was invited into this match! Jack Anderson: And I've been looking forward to it since Pain & Suffering announced that they were returning to try for the titles. Jim Robson: I know you have been... but don't forget about other teams taking part, such as the Boston Bad Boys, the Ewiak Brothers, Adam Van Steele and K.J. Sloan and the Freedom Fighters. Jack Anderson: Plus, who knows who else might show up! Jim Robson: That's right. Finally, don't forget about Desert Scorpion taking on Fusion. As I said on the preview show, this match could be pretty damn good. It may not have the hype of the other matches, but it's sure to be great. Jack Anderson: Go Fusion go! Whoo hoo! Jim Robson: Nice to see you staying impartial. Plus... [the camera shows a shot of above the ring] As you can see, above the ring we have a huge steel cage sitting up there... just what is it doing up there!? Jack Anderson: I don't know... I don't think there is a steel cage match booked for End of the World? Jim Robson: Neither do I... but I guess, anything could happen. As I said folks, End of the World 5 is going to be amazing, and we thank all of you for joining us here tonight. Right now, Anthony Edwards is backstage... he's trying to get a word with RRJ. Lets go to him. ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= [The camera cuts away from the audience cheering to the rear entrance of the GM Palace. A long black limousine pulls into the driveway and slowly comes to a stop. Then from around the corner Razor Ron Jeremy rides into the arena on a pink Barbie bicycle with frills on the handlebars and a bell. The crowd pops as he rides along and rings the bell a few times. He's wearing swimming goggles, red earmuffs, a black "Razor Ron Jeremy: Unusual as Usual" shirt, brown fishing vest, gray sweatpants, and white cross-trainer shoes. He wears Bootie on his head, and the slightly black edge that "The Main Event" Andrew Johnston created with an open flame clearly shows. Anthony Edwards runs in from the side.] Anthony Edwards: RRJ! Hey wait up! Razor Ron Jeremy: Tony, _I_ can barely fit on this thing. Sorry but there's no room. Anthony Edwards: I don't wanna ride on...that. RRJ the fans here in Vancouver want to know how you feel about the stipulations made by Vice President Wade Thompson after your match with Carl Lumski on Mayhem, that this matchup is a no-disqualification bout, and your career is on the line tonight against "The Main Event" Andrew Johnston. [RRJ puts down the kickstand on the bicycle.] RRJ: Tony, if I speak a little fast, I apologize; it's just that when I hear his stupid _name_ all this anger inside of me just builds and builds because it makes me think of how stupid I have been in the past for getting so easily distracted. The fact that I could have saved Hightower's knee from becoming shattered isn't enough torture to that little Jimminy Cricket in my head; but that I have two losses against me that weren't caused by Andrew Johnston - because he's just a coward taking pot shots in the dark -- my fat head hasn't been focused on the task at hand, the task of ridding of the IWF/WOW of Andrew Johnston. But now it's come to the point where he could rid the I/W of Razor Ron Jeremy. But Tony, there is NO WAY that I will loose my career tonight. I've lost once, I lost twice, but this time, the Bootie Call is the anti-charm!...Bootie Call...you see this?! [RRJ takes Bootie off his head and shows him the slightly burnt portion.] RRJ: That's 100% CHAR! Andrew Johnston was holding Bootie over an open flame! And he didn't run out of cigarettes, and he wasn't looking for a substitute for the communist flag; he was looking to make me snap inside, and gosh darnit he came damn near close. But tonight, I fight fire with boot. It's the End of the World as we know it, and I feel pissed! And Tony, there's no better place to be pissed than in a no disqualification match against Andrew Johnston. My wrestling roots go back to the Elk's Lodge in Queens, New York where hardcore was never hardcore enough. Andrew Johnston, "Countdown" Chris Carter, Nutty McShithead, whatever else he wants to call himself, is just a pretty boy who doesn't wanna mess up his pretty little make up and nose job...BUT I WANNA STOMP HIS FACE WITH A SOCCER CLETE! Oh Tony, revenge is sweeter than peeps dipped in peanut butter and sprinkled in pixi stix. Revenge for Razor Ron Jeremy, revenge for Hightower, revenge for Mike Johnston, IT'S END OF THE WORLD, AND IT'S A REVENGE CLEARANCE...EVERY LAST OUNCE OF MALICE MUST GO!!! Anthony Edwards: How do you feel about... RRJ: Tony, you have no idea how great it's gonna feel to finally give Andrew Johnston the Bootie Call that's been coming to him. Hightower will finally be able to rest easy. I just wanna tell Hightower right now that I will not lose my focus this time. I'm Razor Ron Jeremy and I am completely zoned in on this match tonight. See these eyes? These are eyes of fire, eyes of ice, eyes of brimstone, eyes of tungsten, but most importantly, eyes of vengeance. They're in desperate need of that new Lasik surgery, but tonight they will not be detached from that little coward as he runs from The Double-R Jay and his big bear like hands, his deep gruff angry growl, and his 80s style perm, but when I say cuz Ron is God, and God is Ron, I'm not trying to be an expert on chiasmis; because as long as I've been in the IWF/WOW, the word god has been used pretty loosely. Ol' Hades, Eric Travers, and even Andrew Johnston have been guilty of calling themselves wrestling gods, but what it really means is that I have a purpose each and every time I step through those ropes. It means I get out there and give it my all 100% every step of the way to become a US/National, Intercontinental, and World Heavyweight Champion. So Andrew Johnston had better say his prayers, eat his vitamins, and use the men's room at least 20 minutes before the match...because if he doesn't, THEN I WILL BE KNOCKING THE PISS OUT OF HIM ALL NIGHT LONG, CUZ RON IS GOD, AND GOD IS... [The door to the limo in the background opens, and Razor Ron Jeremy's mother, Evelyn Hyatt, steps out of the back seat. The RRJ marks pop. She's wearing a blouse from Sears, sweatpants from JC Penny, and a fanny pack from Mervyn's. She's half RRJ's height and she's withery.] Evelyn Hyatt: Ronald! RRJ: Mama! You came to watch me wrestle! Mama you know Tony Edwards right? Anthony Edwards: Good Evening Mrs. Hyatt... Evelyn: Ronald It's Mother's Day! Did you completely forget? RRJ: Aw Mama, I have a big match tonight. It's no disqualification, my career is on the line; people are paying $30 dollars to see this! In fact, they're paying thirty dollars to see you, right now. Evelyn: I paid $45 for floor seats to see Apocalypse Now on Ice at the Los Angeles Sports Arena, and it was terrible. I don't care, because I think your absence today at brunch was pretty terrible too. RRJ: Mama, this is End of the World! I've been in Vancouver all day; there was no way I could possibly make it to the Hometown Buffet this afternoon. Evelyn: You know what this is like? It's like the time my sister Wendy first got engaged to Paul and Paul told her... RRJ: (Aside to Tony) I've heard this story about 8 million times since I was 9. Aunt Wendy just wants Paul to get flowers, but he goes the extra mile and skywrites her name. Once they find the remains of the plane in Lake Michigan, Paul turns up in Hollywood sleeping with Ann Margaret and Aunt Wendy walks into the hotel room with Sir Lawrence Olivier before he turned gay. When she sees Paul she says "Paul you don't... Evelyn: ...you don't bring me flowers anymore." Then when that British fellow goes off to make that Hamlet movie... RRJ: Mama, this story has nothing to do with anything. Evelyn: The point is that you forgot about your poor little mother on her one day of the year. (she makes a frumpy face.) RRJ: Aww, come here Mama. [He gives his mother a big hug. Everyone in the audience goes "awwwww."] RRJ: Happy Mother's Day Mama... Evelyn: Wait Ronald, why did you ride this bicycle over here? I called a limousine service! You should have come with me, we would have saved some money. Your father doesn't like to waste money, nobody likes to waste money! RRJ: Mama, I have a match coming up that I gotta get ready for! I'll see you in the audience k? Buhbye Mama. Evelyn: Wait! Gimmie a kiss. [She pulls him down and kisses him on the cheek. He runs to the locker room to get ready.] Evelyn: I'll be cheering you on Ronald! Oh he's such a good boy...(she notices Anthony Edwards is still standing there.) What? Why are you staring at me? You want me to dance or something? (she turns around in circles and flails her arms in the air) I don't do the calypso like I used to anymore. Anthony Edwards: Well folks, RRJ is obviously determined to end the career of "The Main Event" Andrew Johnston tonight, and his mother Evelyn is going to be in the audience to see it. Sounds like this career ending match is gonna be one for the record books. Jim, Jack, back to you.... ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= END OF THE WORLD 5 CONTINUES IN PART 2!!! Jim Robson: Whew. RRJ taking on Andrew Johnston is going to be an amazing match later on here tonight. Jack Anderson: You're telling me. I can't wait to see the end of RRJ's career! Jim Robson: I'm not so sure we're going to see that... _______ ______ | ____\ \ / / ___| -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- | _| \ \ /\ / /|___ \ GRUDGE MATCH!! | |___ \ V V / ___) | Desert Scorpion vs Fusion |_____| \_/\_/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- -------------------------> WRITER: Matt Jacobs <-------------------------- ["MY BALLS YOUR CHIN" by Snot the begins blaring over the loudspeakers. The crowd has a mixed reaction, the marks boo, while the smarts cheer.] Jim Robson: Well Jack, it's time to get down to business with our first match of the evening! Fusion versus The Desert Scorpion. FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Detroit, Michigan, USA...standing 6 feet 3 inches tall and weighing in at 247 pounds, the ball lightning... F U S I O N!!!!! [The lights in the arena dim, and numerous fans pull out their lighters. A black light shines into the ramp entrance, and out comes Fusion. He is wearing black leather pants, black boots and armpads. Sledgehammer in hand, he begins to make his way towards the ring. The whites of his eyes glow in the black light as he pauses to stare at the audience in pure and utter cockiness. He takes a few steps forward, as smoke fills the arena; in the stands, in the ring, on the ramp... everywhere. As the smoke clears and the lights return, and Fusion is in the ring. He places his sledgehammer down at the foot of the ring, by his corner.] Jim Robson: This is Fusion's second appearance at End of the World, the first being that hellacious Asylum of Nightmares match with James Monosso last year. Jack Anderson: It took Fusion almost half of 2000 to heel injuries from that match, but the fact that he's back here tonight in Vancouver shows how tough this sonuvabitch really is. This man has sustained burns all over body, numerous concussions from flaming chairs, but he is back in the IWF/WOW and ready to kick Desert Scorpions ass! FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Phoenix, Arizona, standing 6 feet 3 inches and weighing 237 pounds, here is. . . THE DESERT SCORPION! ! ! #Don't fear your last step# #From the theatre of pain# #And the children will love your singing# #From the sea, the sea is calling# ["Theatre of Pain", by Blind Guardian begins to play on the loudspeakers, as The Desert Scorpion begins his walk to ringside at a steady pace. For the most part, there is a pop from the crowd, although the arena doesn't explode with cheers that shake the rafters. The Scorpion's shoulder-length, sandy-brown hair hangs loose, and he is wearing a pair of tan, loose-fitting leggings and a dark brown vest, and his expression is typically emotionless. As he enters the ring, he removes his vest, revealing his well-tanned body. He gives a curt nod of acknowledgment and a sardonic smile to the crowd, and returns his steely gaze to the ring.] Jack Anderson: Damn smart ass! Thinks he's so smart...He was coughing up his insides last time he was in the ring with Fusion...there's no need to smile! Idiot. Jim Robson: I suppose that must make Fusion some kind of rocket scientist Jack. Jack Anderson: You heard what Fusion said on the countdown show. This match will be filled with utter pestilence! DING DING DING!!! Jim Robson: Scorpion and Fusion circle each other...there's a staredown going on and now they get nose to nose with trashtalking...now they lock up...Fusion gets Desert Scorpion in a headlock, and Scorpion pushes Fusion into the corner....Desert Scorpion charges in...NO...Fusion moves out of the way...NOW FUSION STARTS POUNDING AWAY ON THE DESERT SCORPION WHO IS BACKED INTO THE CORNER!!! Jack Anderson: See? This was the pestilence he was talking aboot! [The crowd boos as Fusion starts nailing The Desert Scorpion with shots to the head and body, not stopping despite referee Geoff Cartwright's warning.] Jim Robson: Both men are back to trash talking nose to nose again...and now we have a shoving match going on here! OOH!! Fusion just popped The Desert Scorpion right across the face...and Scorpion with a kick to the gut! Scorpion falls back against the ropes...AX KICK TO THE BACK OF FUSION'S HEAD!! Jack Anderson: oooh, an ax kick! "Don't hate the playa, hate the smart ass Desert Scorpion!" Jim Robson: Whatever you say Jack. Scorpion pulls up Fusion now, and a European uppercut...and another! He grabs Fusion's wrist...SHORTARM CLOTHESLINE!! THE COVER!! 1.................. 2............... Fusion kicks out at 2! Jack Anderson: Fusion's not gonna go down that easy. Jim Robson: Desert Scorpion sets up Fusion for a suplex...Fusion blocks it! He reverses the suplex on Desert Scorpion!! Fusion grabs the legs of Desert Scorpion and drags him along...Looks like he's setting him up for a catapult... Jack Anderson: He's gonna catapult him onto the ropes!! Jim Robson: He's got him locked! Fusion falls back...AND DESERT SCORPION FLIES INTO THE ROPES!! Ouch; that top rope got him right in the throat!! Now Fusion sets him up lying on the bottom ropes, and Fusion backs up to the other side...Fusion runs...and he sits right on top of Desert Scorpion's neck!! Fusion back up...and he does it again!! And the crowd is letting Fusion know how they feel about it!!! [As the crowd boos, Fusion yells "SHUT UP."] Jack Anderson: What does this crowd know anyway? They're from Vancouver!! Jim Robson: Now Fusion lifts up Desert Scorpion and sends him to the corner with an Irish whip...and he sends Desert Scorpion flying hard into the opposite turnbuckle! Fusion charges...FLYING BODY SPLASH IN THE CORNER!!! And The Desert Scorpion is down on one knee from the blow. Jack Anderson: Both Scorpion and Fusion are just about the same height, and Fusion has just a slight weight advantage over Scorpion. I dunno if a body splash is gonna be enough, so you know what that means Jim. In just a little while, it's gonna be sledgehammer time!! Jim Robson: Not unless Referee Geoff Cartwright has something to say about it. Wait, Desert Scorpion grabs the legs of Fusion and takes him down! He climbs on top of Fusion and wails on him with lefts and rights!! That came from out of nowhere!! And the crowd is just loving it! Jack Anderson: Who said Desert Scorpion had technical skill? You call this technical skill? Whoever said that oughta be shot. Jim Robson: Now Scorpion goes for the cover... 1..... 2..... No only a two count! [The crowd gets behind Desert Scorpion as he lifts Fusion back up to his feet.] Jim Robson: Desert Scorpion holds up Fusion...Northern Lights Suplex!! Scorpion runs to the ropes and jumps...OH MY!! WHAT AN ASAI MOONSAULT ONTO FUSION!! AND HE HOOKS THE LEG FOR THE COVER... 1...... 2............ Fusion kicks out at 2! [The camera pans to the sledgehammer resting by the foot of the ring.] Jack Anderson: Man, you that sledgehammer is gonna play an instrumental role in this match...ooooh, I can't wait to see Desert Scorpion coughing up the rest of his insides here at End of the World. Hey Jim, for Desert Scorpion, it'll be the End of the Bowel Movements! Jim Robson: Clever, Jack. Now Desert Scorpion ascends to the top turnbuckle and wait for Fusion to rise to his feet...Scorpion jumps...AND FUSION IS DOWN AGAIN WITH A MISSILE DROPKICK!! Beautiful maneuver by Desert Scorpion. He slowly lifts up Fusion by the back of the head...and Fusion grabs Scorpion by the head and pulls him down!! OUCH!! FUSION PULLED SCORPION'S JAW RIGHT INTO HIS SKULL!! Scorpion is holding his jaw now; what a counter by Fusion. Jack Anderson: Hey Jim, Fusion has a metal plate in his head, so if he got him in the right spot, maybe Scorpion won't talk anymore! Jim Robson: That explains why Desert Scorpion isn't shaking off that hit so easily. Fusion whips Scorpion into the ropes...he comes back...AND FUSION LEVELS HIM WITH A CLOTHESLINE!! That smack echoed throughout the entire GM Place! [Fusion falls back against the side and comes back down on top of The Desert Scorpion with a flying knee. He tumbles over and gets back to his feet, then raises his fist in the air as the crowd boos him.] Jack Anderson: Hey you morons, show Fusion some respect! He's kicking the crap out of Desert Scorpion. That's a commendable task in my humble opinion. Jim Robson: But here comes The Desert Scorpion up from behind....BRIDGING BACK GERMAN SUPLEX BY SCORPION!! 1......... 2.......... NO! KICKOUT BY FUSION!!! [Desert Scorpion grabs Fusion in a headlock now. He walks up the second turnbuckle, and he comes down hard with a bulldog. Fusion is slowly getting up and Desert Scorpion holds his jaw.] Jim Robson: I think the impact of the bulldog seemed to reaggervate that jaw of Desert Scorpion. Jack Anderson: Who cares? Fusion is back up! He grabs Scorpion from behind, AND A RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP TAKES HIM DOWN!! [The crowd boos as Fusion looks down at Desert Scorpion with a maniacal smile, then he starts nailing Scorpion square in the forehead with right hands.] Jim Robson: Fusion is trying to bust Desert Scorpion open! He stops punching away with those heavy right hands and drags Desert Scorpion to his feet...Irish whip to the ropes...HURRICANRANNA BY FUSION!! WHAT A MOVE!! HE GOES FOR A COVER!! 1............... 2................... [The crowd pops.] Jim Robson: NO SCORPION KICKS OUT!!! SCORPION KICKS OUT!!!! Jack Anderson: Slow count! I call shenanigans of Geoff Cartwright! Jim Robson: Fusion picks up Scorpion now and lifts up his arms...FRONT FACE SLAM!! Now Fusion whips him into the ropes...Fusion falls back for momentum...FLYING FOREARM RIGHT TO THE FACE OF DESERT SCORPION!! [Scorpion is flopping up and down in the ring holding his jaw. Fusion stomps Scorpion in the stomach a couple times, then lifts him up once more. Fusion holds 3 fingers in the air.] Jack Anderson: Looks like Fusion is going for the Collision Course!! It's all over from here Jim. [Fusion swiftly whips Scorpion into the ropes...and Scorpion smacks referee Geoff Cartwright head on.] Jim Robson: Scorpion collided with the referee! My God, that sent Geoff Cartwright out of the ring!! Jack Anderson: That wasn't the Collision Course I was talking about. Jim Robson: Scorpion is hanging on to the ropes, and here comes Fusion...NO! Scorpion back body drops Fusion out of the ring as well! Jack Anderson: HA! He almost landed on the referee! Jim Robson: Uh-oh, look what Fusion just saw by his side... Jack Anderson: YES!! Get the sledgehammer!! Jim Robson: Fusion has that sledgehammer now, and he gets back in the ring!! Desert Scorpion is still nursing that jaw and his back is turned to Fusion! NO!! NOT AGAIN!! DON'T DO IT FUSION!! [Fusion takes the end of the sledgehammer and jabs Desert Scorpion right in the back. The crowd boos as Desert Scorpion falls to the ring and remains motionless and Fusion winds up his sledgehammer.] Jim Robson: HE HIT DESERT SCORPION RIGHT IN THE KIDNEY WITH THAT SLEDGEHAMMER!! Jack Anderson: Now the ring is gonna be soiled for the rest of the pay-per view! Jim Robson: Damn him! [The crowd boos loudly as Fusion grins from ear to ear. He winds up his sledgehammer once more.] Jim Robson: NO!! HE'S GONNA CRUSH HIS SPINE!! SOMEBODY STOP THIS!! Jack Anderson: Unleash the pestilence, Fusion!! [The theme from "What's Happening?" blares over the PA, prompting Fusion to look toward the entranceway.] Jack Anderson: What the hell is that?! Jim Robson: I don't know, but it's turned Fusion's attention away from Desert Scorpion and towards the entrance way! Jack Anderson: Wait a minute, this is some kind of Carl Lumski gag! [The crowd goes wild in the background. The camera shot widens so that the front row of seats can be seen, and Carl Lumski hops over the guardrail with a life-size paper mache replica of Rerun from "What's Happening?"] Jack Anderson: FUSION, BEHIND YOU!! TURN AROUND AND BASH HIS BRAINS IN!! [Lumski taps Fusion on the shoulder and Fusion swiftly turns around and swings, but Lumski ducks. Then Lumski kicks Fusion in the stomach to bend him over, and Lumski lifts the Rerun replica high in the air, and brings it crashing down on top of Fusion's head. The crowd pops like mad.] Jim Robson: LUMSKI BROKE THAT MODEL ON TOP OF FUSION'S HEAD!! FUSION IS DOWN, AND SO IS SCORPION!! Jack Anderson: NO!! I call shenanigans on Lumski! Hell I call shenanigans on Razor Ron Jeremy and any other moron that pulls this kind of crap in the IWF/WOW!! [Lumski drags Scorpion over and drapes his arm over Fusion. He quickly grabs the referee and throws him back into the ring. The referee sees the pinfall and counts.] 1..................... 2..................... 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DING DING DING!!! Jack Anderson: THIS WAS TOTALLY UNFAIR, FUSION GOT SCREWED!! Jim Robson: Well it... Jack Anderson: Ah ah ah, don't you even TRY to defend Carl Lumski, Jim. FRANCINE: This winner of this match by pinfall... THE DESERT SCORPION!! ["Theatre of Pain" by Blind Guardian begins to play over the PA, and both men slowly get up. Desert Scorpion rolls out of the ring and holds on to his back. He coughs a bit, showing a sign of some kind of internal injury. Fusion rolls around in the ring holding his head. Lumski is walking back to the entrance way keeping a cold stare on Fusion.] -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- WINNER: Desert Scorpion -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- Jack Anderson: Sure Lumski, you're all high and mighty and fat right now, but just wait until Fusion gets up. He's gonna break that TV of yours over your fat head Lumski! Jim Robson: Lumski will face "The Hammer" Alex Cote tonight for the North American Title, and if you remember Jack, He wanted Cote all to himself, and Fusion kept on butting into his business. Jack Anderson: That was just the beginning of it all, Jim. Now it's gonna get real dirty. Jim Robson: Look! Fusion is up...and he's pointing at Lumski! Lumski has just caused Fusion's second loss at End of the World; Fusion has his sledgehammer and he gets out of the ring, AND HE'S CHASING DOWN LUMSKI!! HE'S RUNNING AFTER HIM LIKE A SPEEDING BULLET! Jack Anderson: Or like a ball of lightning. Jim Robson: And Lumski looks like a deer in headlights! He runs away behind the curtain, and Fusion comes following right after him! Jack Anderson: I hope he pounds the crap outta that stupid Couch Potato. Jim Robson: This is gonna get much worse Jack. [Desert Scorpion walks slowly to the back as the fans give a mixed reaction to the event that have just transpired.] Jim Robson: Hold on... we are told something is going on backstage, and Anthony Edwards is in the middle of it... lets go back there! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= [The scene opens in the backstage area of GM Place in Vancouver, right before the Tag Team Title Match Open Invite. The Giant Redneck is standing just behind the enterance area, wearing his usual torn overalls, workboots and beat up Tennessee Volunteers cap. He is chewing tobacco and a look of anticipation has temporarily replaced the confused, inbred look that normally is on his face. The 7'8", 576 pound behemoth is approached by Anthony Edwards.] Edwards: Giant Redneck! You aren't scheduled to be here tonight. What are.... [The Giant Redneck interrupts Edwards.] Redneck: Wal see har. I done made it down har ter Canader for one reason. I done heard me thar wuz a open invite tag team title match. Wal, it ain't like a good southern feller like myself ter turn down an invite. Edwards: Tag team? Where's your partner? Redneck (snatching the microphone from Edwards): Now see har, I don't reckon you noticed how big I is. I'm a so big, I'm big enough fer two tag teams. I can tip me a cow with one hand, I don't reckon it'll be much differen' ter win me them tag titles all by my lonesome. I'd have won me that batter royal last week iffen it wuzzn't fer that Couch Tater feller. Wal Couch Tater, you jest know I'm a gonner whoop you sooner or later, but ternite, I done got me one goal. I'm a gonner win me them tag team titles an' bring em back ter Tennessee! YEEEEEEEEEEE-HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [The Giant Redneck throws down the microphone and lumbers towards the curtain.] ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= END OF THE WORLD 5 CONTINUES IN PART 3!!! Jim Robson: The Giant Redneck? Well, I am really pumped for this next contest, Jack. President Jurkschat is rejuvinating the IWF/WOW Tag Team Title scene and we're gonna witness the rebirth right here and now! The teams of Pain and Suffering, the Boston Bad Boys, the Ewiak Brothers, Adam Van Steele and K.J. Sloan, and as we found out on the pre-show, the makeshift team of Sean Christopher and Matt Saunders are all gonna help us out. What a supreme roster to breath some life back into this division. Jack Anderson: I gotta admit, Jim, I missed the tag team scene. You know I love watching people get beat up, and the more the merrier. But what about the Giant Redneck?! Jim Robson: Good question, Jack. As we just saw, the Giant Redneck has flipped his hat into the ring and he doesn't think he needs a partner! Jack Anderson: And I thought Billy Rock was ignorant. Remind me to never travel to the south. Jim Robson: The comments of Jack Anderson do not reflect the opinions of the IWF/WOW. We here at I/W love _all_ our fans. Anyway, you got a prediction for this one, Jack? Jack Anderson: Yeah, I predict you trying to pull my foot out of your can in about five minutes. Jim Robson: Ahem. For the _match_, Jack? Jack Anderson: I gotta go with the former I/W Tag Team Champions, Pain and Suffering! They know what it's about and know what it takes to get there. Plus, Mistress Sonia is _HOT_! Jim Robson: Well, though not as attractive as Mistress Sonia, I'm gonna stack my chips with the Boston Bad Boys, another tandem who have carried the belts before, and I think they're the hungriest tag team in that ring tonight. Well, enough chatter! Let's hear the opening introductions along with the rules for tonight's historic tag team match. _______ ______ | ____\ \ / / ___| -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- | _| \ \ /\ / /|___ \ WORLD TAG TEAM TITLES MATCH! | |___ \ V V / ___) | Open invite to all tag teams |_____| \_/\_/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- ----------------------------> WRITER: Brian <----------------------------- [Cut to Francine standing mid-ring.] FRANCINE: Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall and will determine the new IWF/WOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!!! (((POP!))) FRANCINE: One member from each team will be allowed in the ring at a time! The first team to gain a pinfall will be declared the winners and new IWF/WOW Tag Team Champions! ["I'm Gonna be your God" by Slayer begins to ring out over the sold out GM Place. The IWF/WOW fans have no idea what is about to hit them..] FRANCINE: Introducing at this time, first hailing from Chicago Illinois.. standing at six feet even and weighing in at two hundred and twenty five pounds, here is ... A D A M ... V A N ... S T E E L E!!! And his partner from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Standing six feet, six inches tall and weighing in at two-hundred and seventy-eight pounds. Here is ... K J ... S L O A N!!! [The duo makes their way through the Entrance way. Sloan is decked out in long tights. His trunks are solid black except a gold stripe running down the inside and outside of each leg and the "K.J." airbrushed across his rear in gold. His boots are black with a gold stripe running down the center of the boot where the laces cross. He also sports black wrist tape and a black elbow supporter on his right elbow only And out from the back walks out the youngest of the Van Steele boys, Adam. Adam is wearing long black tights, on both legs there are dark blue stylish looking "AVS"'s written down.. it almost looks like a web pattern in which they are written. His boots are black and the same blue color that is on his legs. He walks with an arrogance which just rubs the crowd the wrong way.. the fans start into him, but he is quick to come back with something in return. The two take their time getting into the ring. Steele gets up on the outside of the turnbuckle and holds his fist high into the air as his partner climbs into the ring completely focused. Their music dies down as they talk over some last minute strategy..] FRANCINE: Team number two ... [Cue 'My Way' by Limp Bizkit to a decent face pop. The lights are dimmed, and the strobe lights start. As the song continues, we see two figures standing in the entranceway.] # This time i'm a let it all come out # This time i'm a stand up and shout # I'm a do things my way # It's my way, my way or the highway # This time i'm a let it all come out # This time i'm a stand up and shout # I'm a do things my way # It's my way, my way or the highway [As 'My Way' slowly fades out, in fades the beginning guitar to 'What If' by Creed, then as Scott Stapp's voice begin, pyro goes off and out steps Frank & Jesse Ewiak.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Palm Bay, Florida, standing six feet, eight inches tall, weighing in at 290 pounds, here is ... J E S S E ... 'T H E A V E N G E R' ... E W I A K!!! FRANCINE: FRANCINE: His partner, also hailing from Palm Bay, Florida, standing six feet, one inch tall and weighing over 235 pounds, here is ... F R A N K ... E W I A K!!! # I can't find the rhyme in all my reason # I've lost sense of time and all seasons # I feel I've been beaten down # By the words of men who have no grounds [As the song continues, the two men walk to the ring. Jesse, dressed in a black leather jacket and black jeans, staring at the ring. Frank, slapping hands, dressed in tights and a leather jacket of his own. Both men slip in the ring, toss their jackets out and get ready to fight.] Jim Robson: We'd like to welcome the Ewiak Brothers to IWF/WOW pay-per-view. Currently in another organization, they've accepted the open invitation and a shot at the big time. As have K.J. Sloan and Adam Van Steele. FRANCINE: Team number three ... ["The Cure" by Metallica begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd boos.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, hailing from Mistress Sonia's castle in Germany, standing 6 feet and weighing 256 pounds, here is ... P A I N!!! [Lights flash on and off with each new type of scream. Red flames burst out of the entrance as lightbolts crawl along the roof. Suddenly a chain reaction of explosions come from the entrance to the ring and when they finally reach the ring four lighting bolts hit the four ring posts as the lights go on with Pain wearing black tights with old blood stains overing parts of it in the middle of the ring bowing in front of Mistress Sonia.] ["Poor Twisted Me" by Metallica begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd boos.] FRANCINE: His partner, standing 5 feet 10 inches and weighing 237 pounds, here is ... S U F F E R I N G!!!!! [Lights flash on and off with each new type of scream. Red flames burst out of the entrance as lightbolts crawl along the roof. Suddenly a chain reaction of explosions come from the entrance to the ring and when they finally reach the ring four lighting bolts hit the four ring posts as the lights go on with Suffering wearing his black tights being held back by a chain being held by Mistress Sonia.] Jim Robson: Look at those old bloodstains on their tights. I can't look at these two former champs without getting queezy. Jack Anderson: Do what I do. Keep your eyes on Mistress Sonia. FRANCINE: Team number four ... ["My Way" by Limp Bizkit begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd cheers.] Jack Anderson: I'm so SICK of this song! Why doesn't anyone use Dean Martin? Sinatra? Sammy? How about some freakin' Whitesnake? Jim Robson: Whitesnake? FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Hollywood, California standing 6 feet 2 inches and weighing 275 pounds, here is ... S E A N ... C H R I S T O P H E R!!! [The arena lights go off then turn red. Four loud blasts of fire fill the ring as Sean Christopher makes his way down the asile. Sean is dressed in a long red glittery robe. Sean walks to the ring stopping every few minutes to play along with the crowd. Sean finaly enters the ring and salutes the crowd with both arms raised in the air.] FRANCINE: His partner ... ["Bittersweet" by Fuel begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd gives off a loud roar of cheers, as they know who is coming out.] #Seven sins of wantonness and everything that's good is gone# #Sell it all for glory from peers# #Silicone priestess scratch the back and twists the knife to bone# #Kick against the pricks and scrape the shins# FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Battle Creek, Michigan, standing 6 feet and weighing 205 pounds, here is ... M A T T ... S A U N D E R S!!! [Matt's music hits as the fans hop to their feet. He comes out from the back and stands on the ramp for a bit, collecting himself for the battle that awaits him. He then points to the sky and walks down the ramp slapping fans hands. He then climbs into the ring and sits on the top turnbuckle awaiting his opponent.] Jim Robson: I'm really excited about the prospects of Matt Saunders and Sean Christopher. Two great talents who've been searching for their place in I/W just may find it tonight. FRANCINE: Team-uh ... Participant number five ... ["COUNTRY CLUB" by TRAVIS TRITT begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd goes mad with hatred, booing loudly and throwing garbage at the freak of nature.] Francine: About to enter the ring, from Collinwood, Tennessee, the Confederate States of America, standing 7 feet 8 inches and weighing 576 pounds, here is T H E ... G I A N T ... R E D N E C K!!! [The Giant Redneck is wearing old overalls, workboots, and a beat up Tennessee Volunteers cap. He has an uneven beard and a mullet. The Giant Redneck spits tobacco juice on the fans along the aisle and waves the confederate flag as he slowly makes his way to the ring.] FRANCINE: And the final team ... ["Some Heads Are Gonna Roll" by Judas Priest begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd has a mixed reaction, but then begins to cheer wildly as they notice Big Dick's new gimmick. Francine: About to enter the ring, from Boston, Massachusetts, USA standing 6 feet 8 inches and weighing 277 pounds, here is ... "T H E H E A D H U N T E R" ... R I C H A R D ... J A M E S!!! [As Richard James emerges from the curtains, pyrotechnics fill the walkway, as his theme music blares. The Man formerly known as Big Dick has changed his outlook entirely. Richard now wears a purple mohawk, and wears no shirt, which accentuates his muscular upper-torso. He has a tattoo of a fiery skull on his left shoulder. He wears black tights and black boots. He acknowledges the IWFWOW fans with a flash of the 3:B signal as he makes his way to ringside. The Headhunter enters the ring and focuses on the match.] FRANCINE: His partner ... ["Another One Bites The Dust " by QUEEN is played over the PA system and the crowd cheers wildly!] Francine: About to enter the ring, standing 6 foot 6 inches and weighing 285 lbs., from Boston, Massachusetts, led to the ring by his manager Kelly James ...here is The Man With The Plan.... C O O P E R ... C O N C R E T E!!! THEY ARE THEY _B O S T O N ... B A D B O Y S_!!! [The sensuous Kelly James makes her way through the curtains, and is followed by the Man With The Plan, Cooper Concrete...The crowd erupts as the IWFWOW Superstar slaps hands with the fans as the duo make their way down the aisle. On the JumboTron are snipets of Coop's IWFWOW career facing other Superstars such as AJ Stanson, Professor Steve West, the AoD, Eric Travers, Pain Inc, and Modern Apocalypse. In the ring, spotlights of COOP 3:B shine down on the mat. Cooper is wearing bluejeans, workboots, workgloves, a black "COOP 3:B" T-shirt, and his insignia orange hardhat and shades. As Cooper gets up on the apron, he holds the ropes open for Kelly James, and the twosome flash the 3:B signal to the fans...(3 fingers raised in the air) and the fans respond in a big way. Kelly then blows a kiss to the crowd and the Man With The Plan focuses on the match.] Jack Anderson: What is this, the World Entrance Federation? Can we hear a bell please? (((DING, DING, DING))) Jack Anderson: Thank you! [Eleven men stand in the ring, all paired up except for the Giant Redneck. Each team decides on a man to start.] Jim Robson: It looks as though Suffering, Jesse Ewiak, KJ Sloan, Matt Saunders, and Cooper Concrete will begin for their respective teams. Giant Redneck doesn't really have an option here. (((POP!))) Jim Robson: The chaos has begun as Suffering takes down Cooper Concrete with a double axe handle from behind! Giant Redneck grabs Matt Saunders! KJ Sloan tangles with Jesse Ewiak! You wanna give me a hand calling this one, Jack? Jack Anderson: [sigh] Might as well. The pizza I ordered is taking longer than I was told. Jim Robson: Suffering kicks Cooper right in the bread basket. He immediately grabs him by the wrist and brings him over to Pain who's waiting on the apron. Pain jumps off and grabs Cooper's wrist, withstanding all the blows Cooper is landing right in his face as he holds his arm across the mat. Suffering goes to the top rope! A LEGDROP ACROSS THE SHOULDER!! Pain and Suffering are already targeting the strength of the Boston Bad Boys. Jack Anderson: Giant Redneck and Matt Saunders are trading punches in the corner! Jim Robson: Saunders is really holding his own against the big man. Jack Anderson: Ooooh! Not after a headbutt like that. Redneck lifts him in the air with ONE ARM! (((POP!))) Jim Robson: HE THREW SAUNDERS OVER THE TOP ROPE AND INTO SEAN CHRISTOPHER! THOSE TWO ARE BOTH ON THE ARENA FLOOR NOW! Jack Anderson: Saunders is getting back to his feet now. Jim Robson: They better watch out for Adam Van Steele on the apron there. I don't like the look he's giving Saunders. Jack Anderson: I'm sure he's just concerned with his condition. Jim Robson: Hold on a second. Van Steele is positioning himself for something on the outside of the second turnbuckle. Saunders has his back turned. (((BOOOOOOOOOOO!))) Jim Robson: VAN STEELE DROPKICKED SAUNDERS IN THE BACK OF THE KNEE FROM THE SECOND ROPE!! Van Steele slides under the bottom rope quickly, storming the ring! What's he doing? Sloan's the legal member of the team! Jack Anderson: Well Sloan is standing on the top turnbuckle with Jesse Ewiak's head between his legs! Jim Robson: Van Steele is climbing the opposite corner of the ring! Frank Ewiak is reaching up, trying to pull him down! Van Steele is fighting him off by stomping him the head! NOW EWIAK IS CLIMBING TO THE TOP ROPE WITH VAN STEELE! HE'S GOT ONE FOOT ON THE SECOND TURNBUCKLE, ONE FOOT ON THE TOP! SAME WITH VAN STEELE, AND THEY'RE GOING AT IT TOOTH AND NAIL! (((BOOM!))) Jack Anderson: KJ SLOAN JUST SUPERBOMBED JESSE EWIAK RIGHT TOWARD THE CENTER OF THE RING! Jim Robson: He's got a name for that one, Jack! Jack Anderson: Let me say it! PUH-LEEZE! Jim Robson: Fine. It's pay-per-view I guess. Jack Anderson: The BITCH-Be-Gone-Bomb! Jim Robson: Now Giant Redneck is making his way over to Frank Ewiak and Adam Van Steele! They're still slugging it out! Giant Redneck grabs 'em both by their throats! Jack Anderson: Wait! MATT SAUNDERS JUST CAME OUT OF NOWHERE AND JUMPED ON REDNECK'S BACK! HE'S GOT HIM IN A SLEEPER! REDNECK IS STILL HOLDING ONTO VAN STEELE AND EWIAK'S NECKS! Jim Robson: HERE COMES SUFFERING! HE SLINGSHOTS HIMSELF ONTO THE TOP ROPE NEAR THE CLUSTER OF MEN IN THE CORNER! (((POP!))) Jim Robson: HOLY GOD! SUFFERING HIT EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM WITH A CROSS BODY BLOCK!! VAN STEELE AND EWIAK MUST'VE FALLEN EIGHT OR NINE FEET TO THE ARENA FLOOR!! SAUNDERS IS LYING ON THE MAT! REDNECK IS CURLED OVER THE MIDDLE ROPE, AND SUFFERING IS PULLING HIMSELF UP! Jack Anderson: Watch out for Cooper Concrete! Jim Robson: HERE HE COMES! (((POP!))) Jim Robson: CONCRETE CLOTHESLINES SUFFERING OVER THE TOP ROPE! NOW PAIN IS IN THE RING! HERE COMES SEAN CHRISTOPHER! (((BOOM!))) Jim Robson: GOOD GAWD! RICHARD JAMES CLIMBED THROUGH THE ROPES AND SPRINTED ACROSS THE RING, DESTROYING CHRISTOPHER WITH A SPEAR IN MID-STRIDE! WE'VE LOST ALL CONTROL HERE! Jack Anderson: We've got Pain and Cooper Concrete slugging it out! Richard James is sitting atop Sean Christopher pounding away at his skull! Jim Robson: James is lifting Christopher into a vertical suplex position! IT LOOKS LIKE THE GHOSTBUSTER! Jack Anderson: Giant Redneck is right behind him on all fours, still trying to recover! [Suffering pulls himself onto the apron and begins climbing the post behind Richard James.] Jim Robson: Drop him Richard! HIT THE GHOSTBUSTER BEFORE--- (((POP!))) Jim Robson: _THAT_ happens. WHAT A FREAKIN' MOVE! [Suffering jumped from the top turnbuckle, dropkicking James from behind forcing him to fall forward, hitting Sean Christopher with a face front suplex, but driving his own face into the canvass as well.] Jack Anderson: Cooper Concrete saw that! Jim Robson: He grabs Suffering. Whips him into the ropes! POWERSLAM! There was no cushioning that one! Jack Anderson: The Ewiak Brothers are squaring off against Adam Van Steele and KJ Sloan on the outside, Jim! Jim Robson: And it looks as though Pain and Suffering are getting it one with the Boston Bad Boys on the inside! Matt Saunders has finally gotten up and he's laying into the Giant Redneck with a series of the most vicious stomps I've ever seen! Sean Christopher has come over to join his partner! They drag the Redneck over to the corner and sit him against the turnbuckles. SAUNDERS DROPKICKS HIM IN THE FACE! HE ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY AS CHRISTOPHER CHARGES! OH MY! ANOTHER DROPKICK RIGHT IN THE FACE! Jack Anderson: Pain has Richard James in the corner, pummeling him with quick blows to the head and body! Jim Robson: He brings James out of the corner. KICK TO THE GUT! THE IRON CLAW!! HE COCKS HIS ARM BACK, GETTING READY TO DELIVER THE HEART PUNCH! Jack Anderson: PAIN IS GONNA END IT WITH SADISTIC BLISS, JIM! (((POP!!!))) Jim Robson: COOPER GRABBED PAIN'S ARM FROM BEHIND! HE WHIPS HIM INTO THE ROPES! COOPER AND JAMES JOIN HANDS! DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE!! Jack Anderson: Come on, Suffering! Get up! You're partner's in trouble! Jim Robson: James goes to the second turnbuckle as Cooper positions Pain for a piledriver! (((BOOM!))) Jim Robson: SPIKE PILEDRIVER! They're not finished with him yet though! Cooper drops to one knee and balances Pain across it. Richard James goes back to the second rope! Jack Anderson: HOLD ON! ADAM VAN STEELE IS CLIMBING THE TURNBUCKLE RIGHT BEHIND HIM! Jim Robson: COOPER DROPS PAIN! HE'S POINTING BEHIND RICHARD JAMES! Jack Anderson: OH MY LORD!!! (((FANS GROAN))) Jim Robson: VAN STEELE JUST JERKED RICHARD JAMES BACKWARD BY THE HAIR!!! JAMES FELL BACKWARD!! STRAIGHT TO THE FLOOR! MY GOD! Jack Anderson: Cooper's coming after Van Steele! Jim Robson: STEELE JUMPS OFF AND HITS A MISSILE DROPKICK!! Steele back up. He turns his attention back to Cooper. MATT SAUNDERS FROM BEHIND WITH A BULLDOG! (((BOOM!!!))) (((POP!!!))) Jim Robson: FRANK EWIAK CAME OUT OF NOWHERE! LIKE HE FELL OUT OF THE SKY WITH A SENTON BOMB RIGHT ACROSS VAN STEELE!! THE COVER!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . SAUNDERS BREAKS IT UP! Jim Robson: Sean Christopher stops beating on the Giant Redneck long enough to come to the assist of Matt Saunders. Christopher holds Frank Ewiak's arms behind him. SAUNDERS WITH A HUGE UPPERCUT! ANOTHER ONE! IT'S THE FISTS OF FURY! HE WINDS BACK AND DIVES FORWARD WITH A HELL OF AN ELBOW!! (((BIG REACTION))) Jack Anderson: AHAHAHAHAHA!!! Right into Sean Christopher's face! He's out cold! Jim Robson: Frank Ewiak ducked at the last second! The _very_ last second! Jack Anderson: Look at this, Jim! KJ Sloan has Jesse Ewiak on the top ring step. Jim Robson: AND HE SUPLEXES HIM RIGHT OFF! JESSE EWIAK SLID RIGHT ACROSS THE CONCRETE FLOOR! Jack Anderson: Sloan didn't fall with him though! He just let him fall behind him! Sloan's climbing into the ring now! Jim Robson: If this is an indication of the kind of action the tag team scene is going to bring back to I/W, I'm in support of this one thousand percent! I LOVE what we're seeing tonight, Jack! Jack Anderson: Sloan grabs Pain and lifts him into a backdrop. NO! HE TURNS IT INTO A BLUE THUNDER BOMB! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . NO!! Jim Robson: Suffering dashed across the ring and kicked Sloan right in the face! Frank Ewiak comes up behind Suffering! DIVING REVERSE DDT! Jack Anderson: Look at this! The Giant Redneck is finally getting back into this one. Jim Robson: Well Matt Saunders takes notice as Sean Christopher finally snaps out of the effects of the Fists of Fury. REDNECK CHARGES, AND MY GOD HE NEARLY CLOTHESLINED SAUNDERS OUT OF HIS BOOTS! REDNECK IS ON A RAMPAGE! HE GRABS FRANK EWIAK! CHOKESLAM!!! HE CHOKES _BOTH_ PAIN AND SUFFERING! DOUBLE CHOKESLAM!!! REDNECK HAS BOTH SLOAN AND VAN STEELE! ANOTHER DOUBLE CHOKESLAM, RIGHT ON TOP OF PAIN AND SUFFERING!!! HE PULLS COOPER CONCRETE TO HIS FEET AND LIFTS HIM INTO THE AIR! MILITARY PRESS! (((MASSIVE GROAN))) Jim Robson: HE DROPPED COOPER GUT FIRST RIGHT ACROSS HIS KNEE!! Jack Robson: HERE COMES SEAN CHRISTOPHER FROM BEHIND! Jim Robson: Christopher spins Redneck around! He's nailing him in the stomach with everything he's got! It's not seeming to have any effect! THE GIANT REDNECK JUST TOOK CHRISTOPHER DOWN WITH ONE PUNCH TO THE HEART AREA! HE PICKS HIM BACK UP! HE'S SETTING HIM UP FOR THE BUMPKIN BOMB!! GIANT REDNECK: YEEEEEEEEHAW!!! (((BOOM!!!))) Jim Robson: HE MAKES THE COVER!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . THRRRRR-- (((KLANG!!!))) Jim Robson: RICHARD JAMES BROKE IT UP WITH A STEEL CHAIR OVER REDNECK'S BACK!! REDNECK IS ON HIS KNEES!! (((KLANG!!!))) Jim Robson: JAMES HIT HIM RIGHT ACROSS THE SKULL!! REDNECK FALLS SIDEWAYS! (((SNAP!!))) Jim Robson: OH MY GOD! MISTRESS SONIA JUST JUMPED ON THE APRON AND LASHED JAMES RIGHT ACROSS THE BACK WITH HER WHIP!! Jack Anderson: Lucky bastard! (((POP!))) Jim Robson: HEY! KELLY JAMES PULLS HER DOWN OFF THE APRON! A SPEAR! A SPEAR! KELLY JAMES SPEARED MISTRESS SONIA! Now Richard James is climbing out of the ring as he grimaces in pain! He's now digging under the ring as Kelly James repeatedly bashes Mistress Sonia's head against the floor! Oh no! Richard pulls a tiny rope and a roll of duct tape out! Jack Anderson: Oh man. Can I be a part of this? PLEASE? Jim Robson: They're tying Mistress Sonia to the safety railing! This is great! Jack Anderson: Yeah, but he's not paying a damn bit of attention to the ring! Cooper Concrete has the Boston Backbreaker applied to Suffering!! Jim Robson: The ref is right in Suffering's face, asking if he wants to give it up! He's about to tap out! Suffering is close to tapping out! (((BOOO!))) Jim Robson: CRAP! Pain just bulldogged Cooper from behind! Pain's got arms around Cooper's legs now! Suffering is slowly climbing the ropes! Jack Anderson: Look at how sexy Mistress Sonia looks with that duct tape around her mouth. Yessssssss ... Jim Robson: Will you knock it off, Jack?! (((POP!))) Jim Robson: RICHARD JAMES CROTCHES SUFFERING ON THE TOP ROPE FROM BEHIND! HE CLIMBS INTO THE RING AND CHARGES PAIN! CLOTHESLINE TAKES HIM OFF HIS FEET! SUFFERING IS BALANCING HIMSELF ON THE ROPES ONCE AGAIN! THEY'RE ABOUT TO HIT PAIN WITH A BOSTON BOMB! Jack Anderson: SUFFERING BREAKS IT UP WITH A DIVING HURRICARANA ON RICHARD JAMES! Jim Robson: James rolls out of the ring! Suffering grabs the top rope and slingshots himself upward! He balances! Jack Anderson: HOLY GOD! Jim Robson: COOPER CONCRETE DROPKICKED HIM FROM BEHIND! SUFFERING JUST LANDED ON MISTRESS SONIA WHO WAS TIED TO THE SAFETY RAILING! PAIN COMES UP BEHIND COOPER AND CLOTHESLINES HIM OVER THE TOP! BOTH MEN FLIP AND LAND ON THE ARENA FLOOR! Jack Anderson: We've got Pain, Suffering, and the Boston Badboys on the outside! Jim Robson: We've got Van Steele, Sloan, the Ewiak Brothers, Redneck, Saunders and Christopher on the inside! Jack Anderson: As a matter of fact, I think Pain and Suffering are brawling with the Boston Badboys all the way up the aisle! Pain just tossed Cooper into the crowd! Richard James grabs a chair from behind the railing! (((KLANG!!!))) Jack Anderson: HE SMASHED IT RIGHT OVER SUFFERING'S HEAD! Jim Robson: Look! Giant Redneck has his pole with the confederate flag on the end! He's jabbing the end of it mercilessly into Matt Saunders gut as he lays on the canvass! Here comes Sean Christopher from behind! He takes Rednecks legs out with a shoulderblock behind the knees! NOW HE'S GETTING THOSE HUGE LEGS READY FOR THE CHRISTOPHER CROSS-HAIR! HIS VERSION OF THE SHARPSHOOTER! Can he turn him over? Can he turn the huge Redneck over? . . . . . . . . HE'S GOT HIM!!! HE'S GOT THE GIANT REDNECK IN A SHARPSHOOTER! LOOK AT MATT SAUNDERS! HE'S CRAWLED ONTO REDNECK'S BACK, AND HE'S GOT HIM A CAMEL CLUTCH SIMULTANIOUSLY! Jack Anderson: Frank Ewiak is on the top rope, waiting for KJ Sloan and Adamn Van Steel to turn around. Jim Robson: I think Van Steele is actually showboating in the middle of this chaos! I think they're about to attempt their finisher on Jesse Ewiak! THE ATTITUDE ADJUSTER! SLOAN'S PREPARING THE INVERTED LYGER BOMB! (((POP!!!))) Jim Robson: FRANK JUST CAME OFF THE TOP ROPE WITH A CLOTHESLINE TO VAN STEELE! BOTH OF 'EM ROLL OUT OF THE RING! Jack Anderson: What's Sloan gonna do now? Jim Robson: Improvise! Sloan scoops Ewiak up for a bodyslam. . . . . . NO! IT'S A SCOOP REVERSE DDT! SLOAN'S IRON CITY SPIK! HE DROPPED HIM RIGHT ON HIS HEAD BEFORE HIS LEGS EVEN HIT THE GROUND! SLOAN COVERS!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . THRRRRRRRRR--- SEAN CHRISTOPHER RELEASES THE REDNECK AND JUMPS TOWARD SLOAN!! . . . . . . . . . . EEEEEEEEE!!! (((DING, DING, DING))) Jim Robson: NOT IN TIME! NOT IN TIME! WE'VE GOT NEW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!!! Jack Anderson: JUST AS I PREDICTED! Jim Robson: You ... oh nevermind. FRANCINE: Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of the match and NEW IWF/WOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD ... ADAM VAN STEELE AND K.J. SLOAN!!! [Some fans cheer out of respect. More fans boo the socks off the pair of new champions.] -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- WINNER: Adam Van Steele & K.J. Sloan -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- Jim Robson: Wow, Jack. What a match. This is definitely the beginning of something special with the new tag team division. It's only gonna get better from here, and who knows what teams we've attracted tonight with this kind of action? I can't wait to see what the future has in store for those belts. Jack Anderson: For sure!! Jim Robson: Right now we're being told Commissioner Suicidal Tendency is back in his office, and that he has a feud words for everyone, including a huge announcement about the Stairway to Hell match... lets go to him! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= [The camera fades into Commissioner Suicidal Tendency's office. He is standing up behind his desk, attired in his ringwear. His hair is wet and slicked back, the red and purple bangs not in his face like usual. His dark, deep, menacing brown eyes stare directly into the camera, and his gaze is nothing short of angry. The commissioner walks around his desk and to the front of it, where he is standing directly in front of the camera. The camera focuses in on his throat, revealing the intricacies of the dagger tattooed along it. The camera pans up to his hate-filled face, and he opens his lips.] ST: In just a few minutes, the world is going to be turned on its head. There's gonna be a bloodfest reminicent of the battle of Sitting Bull and it will be completely, one-hundred percent, _legal_. Because of my audacity... that some might call stupidity... I'm going to stepping into the ring in just a few short minutes with Maverick and "The Headliner" Shane St. Clair... and it won't be your run of the mill triangle match... it ain't a triple threat match... it's something special. [He smiles an evil smile.] ST: It's a Stairway to Hell Match. That means that there's gonna be a ladder and there's gonna be barbed wire suspended from the ceiling. The only thing uglier than the next thirty minutes of pay per view excitement is Shane St. Clair's last girlfriend. The fact of the matter is, I intend on going into that ring and flossing these two chumps' teeth with barbed wire. I am going to make it my goal to make sure that the three of us leave that ring a bloodied, battered mess... and I promise that it will happen. [He turns around and faces his back to the camera.] ST: I know that I'm not gonna be walking around in the locker room after this match. I crave that and I savor it... I love the pain and agony, and I love making the fans cheer. Every single time I damn near kill myself I smile a little harder... and tonight, I'm gonna be grinning from ear to ear. I've been called everything from a sadist to a killer and, quite frankly, everything in between and included applies tonight. This is my first real opportunity to show the I/W that I'm not all talk... that I can back up my mouth with my ass kickings. I showed it to everyone when I crushed St. Clair from the top of the Hell in a Cell and pinned Justin Arcola for the one, two, three. Tonight... something will happen and it'll be bad for the Headliner and Maverick. [He turns back to the camera, seething.] ST: I am _NOT_ going to be taken for granted anymore. I am the _Commissioner_ of the I/W _damnit_! [He reaches behind the table and removes his walking cane which he carries to the ring with him. He smacks it hard against the cold wood of his desk and smiles.] ST: The winner of tonight's match ain't just gonna get the gloating privileges of being the victor, and whoever it is isn't just gonna have the rights to say that they won the very first I/W Stairway to Hell Match... no... as of this moment, I am declaring that the winner of this match between myself, St. Clair, and Mav will be given a shot at the IWF/WOW World Title. [Pop from the crowd!] ST: I intend on winning this match, but I ain't making any promises... actually, fuck that... hey, we're on pay per view, aren't we? [He looks around, smiles and...] ST: FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKK!!! [Pop!!!] ST: Damn, that felt _fucking_ good! I'm gonna make a promise for tonight, but just one. I may win, I may lose, but I _guaran-fucking-tee_... the three of us will all bleed for these good fans. [Another big pop.] ST: We will bleed the blood of the IWF/WOW, and we'll walk back to the dressing room better for it. Tonight's all about the fans, and it's all about hurting two guys that really piss me off. Maverick, I hope that your knee has had time to heel since I bashed the shit out of not six days ago, and Shane... well... I hope that those ridiculous cryogenic, technology-laden, stupid-ass endorphin boosters that you stuck into your bicep made you into Robocop, because that's your snowball's chance in hell of getting out tonight unscathed. I'll be damned if I'll let your Scooby snacks get the better of me. Because even when Scooby was hopped up on his snacks, and when Popeye got in all of his spinach, and when Captain Planet got all of the dirt off of his ass -- [He smiles.] ST: -- they still looked goofy as hell. St. Clair... the End of the World... you're leaving a goofy, bloody mess. Maybe Maverick can borrow some of that power sauce when I break his ass too. [He starts walking away, towards the door of his office.] ST: St. Clair... Mav... you boys are about to be addressed. [He walks out and slams the door.] ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= END OF THE WORLD 5 CONTINUES IN PART 4!!! Jim Robson: Up next folks we have what is dubbed as a Grudge Match, and believe me this next match-up will be just that, a grudge match! Jack Anderson: Not only that but last week on Mayhem Vice-President of the I/W, Wade Thompson, ordered that this match between Razor Ron Jeremy and "The Main Event" Andrew Johnston be a No DQ Match! But the fun doesn't end there.....VP Thompson also made this match....a Career Ending Match! Jim Robson: So tonight then after this match-up we ill never see one of these two superstars ever again! Jack Anderson: Yes and I for one hope that it will be RRJ!!! Jim Robson: Well it could go either way! Jack Anderson: No it won't! This has been building up for a while now! It originally started when Andrew Johnston decided to make his own path here in the I/W and he broke all ties with his former mentor Hightower, and he BEAT Hightower in a Career Ending Match, but along with his brother, former I/W tag team specialist "The Wildman" Mike Johnston, they crippled Hightower, guaranteeing that the 6 foot 8 freak will never be seen in the wrestling world again!!! Jim Robson: Yes and Andrew Johnston took exception to the fact that what he saw as his moment in the spotlight, his moment in the sun....was ruined by returning superstar and former World Champion, Razor Ron Jeremy! Jack Anderson: Yeah and it didn't stop there! The following week in a number one contenders match for the I/W Intercontinental Championship, RRJ COST The Main Event the title shot, so Andrew Johnston from there on in decided to ruin RRJ's return to the ring, and has been constantly interfering in his matches! Two weeks ago he came down to the ring disguised as Big Bird! And most recently this last week Andrew Johnston decided to make himself the guest referee for a match between Razor Ron Jeremy and Carl Lumski, not only costing RRJ yet another win, but he also lit Bootie on fire, and he would have been successful if it wasn't for that no good Razor Ron Jeremy! Jim Robson: Yes but it was that last incident that prompted VP Thompson to make this match a No DQ/Loser Leaves Town Match.....but it wasn't to punish RRJ, it was to punish The Main Event! Jack Anderson: Yeah well Thompson's plan is going to backfire on him because "The Main Event" Andrew Johnston is going to tear RRJ limb from limb, and when it is all said and done, when all the hype has died down and the smoke has cleared....Razor Ron Jeremy will once again be gone from the I/W and I think "The Career Killer".....aka Andrew Johnston.....is just the man to do it!! Jim Robson: Well one thing I am curious about, that enclosed steel cage has been there all night hanging above the ring......but there's no steel cage match billed on the card. Jack Anderson: Hmm must have been some mistake by one of the morons that President Jurkschat hired! Jim Robson: Well at any rate, without further ado, let's go down to Francine in the ring for the introductions to this next match! _______ ______ | ____\ \ / / ___| -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- | _| \ \ /\ / /|___ \ CAREER ENDING MATCH - NO DQ! | |___ \ V V / ___) | RRJ vs Andrew Johnston |_____| \_/\_/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- -------------------------> WRITER: Chris Shannon <------------------------ FRANCINE: The following contest is set for one fall with a 30 minute time limit, and it is a No Disqualification...Loser Leaves Town Match! [Huge pop from the crowd.] FRANCINE: Introducing first..... ["Independent Woman" by Destiny's Child plays and the fans boo, although a good portion of the males start to hoot and whistle as Tanya walks out from behind the curtain. She is wearing very tight black pants, with a royal blue shirt, revealing her flat/firm stomach, and revealing her well endowed cleavage, along with black boots with 3 inch heels on them. She pauses at the top of the entrance way with her hands on her hips scanning the crowd. Finally a "SLUT" chant starts, which seems to anger and upset Tanya as she shakes her head at the crowd and makes her way down to the ring, being snobby and ignoring all the fans as the "slut" chant hurt her feelings. She finally enters the ring, very slowly climbing through the ropes, allowing the males to get a good look at her backside as well as her chest as she is bent over. Francine watches Tanya enter the ring, then rolls her eyes as she knows what is coming next and she hands the microphone over to Tanya right away. Then Tanya turns toward the main camera, acting like god's gift to men and a little vixen.] TANYA: Sorry Fran but you know nobody is good enough to introduce my man except for me!!! Now all of you fan s are about to get the biggest treat of your pathetic little lives, because you get to see the man who ended the career of Hightower, and you will also get to see the man who will end the career of Razor Ron Jeremy as well......TONIGHT! Now without further ado let me bring out your FAVORITE wrestling superstar here in the IWF/WOW! ["Come With Me by Puff Daddy plays and the fans start booing loudly as they await the arrival of the cocky and arrogant Andrew Johnston.] TANYA: Coming down the aisle standing at a graceful 6 foot 5 inches and weighing in at 269 pounds, he hails from Los Angeles, California.....please welcome your NEW wrestling God.... " T H E M A I N E V E N T ".......... .......... .......... ..........A N D R E W J O H N S T O N ! ! ! [The fans continue to boo as "The Main Event' Andrew Johnston steps out from behind the curtain, pausing on the top of the ramp getting down one knee and flexing his arms, prompting the crowd too further boo AJ's arrogance. AJ is wearing long leg length red trunks with silver lightning bolts down both legs, as well as "MAIN EVENT' in silver lettering on his butt. For a shirt he wears a shinny vinyl red shirt, kept on buttoned. Black wrestling boots are on his feet and he has a black elbow pad on his right elbow. Seeming disgusted by the boo's, AJ gets back on his feet, shaking his head at the crowd as he starts to make a slow decent down to the ring while the lyrics of the song echo throughout the arena.] [Andrew Johnston walks right in the middle of the rampway, but he looks from side to side, turning his nose up to the fans at the same time acting as if they are cheering him. Eventually he stops as he gets half way to the ring and folds his arms, looking around the crowd again. He pauses to look up in the ring at Tanya, who blows a kiss to him and waves to him in a seductive manner.] [Johnston finally gets to the ring, and the first thing he does is give Tanya a big hug an a kiss, then he stands in the middle of the ring throwing both arms up in the air as fireworks go off above the ring. As the smoke clears AJ holds the ropes open for Tanya, who passes Andrew Johnston as she exits the ring, then she leaves the ringside area as AJ watches her leave.] Jim Robson: This is unusual....Tanya is leaving ringside.....why is that??? Jack Anderson: Well maybe if you'll shut up for a minute we'll be able to find out! [AJ goes to bring the mic to his lips, but pauses as he receives a sudden influx of jeers from the crowd. The jeers don't really seem to be having an effect on "The Main Event" Andrew Johnston, as he arrogantly looks around the arena with a cocky smile on his face, before bringing the mic up to his lips once more.] THE MAIN EVENT: Go ahead boo me all you want......because your boo's are just confirmation that you know that I will be the one walking out of this match the victor! [The crowd once again boo's loudly, prompting AJ to smile even more than he was just a moment ago.] THE MAIN EVENT: It's too bad....but if anybody out there doubts my abilities, you should think again! Afterall I am the man who beat the living hell out of my brother....who destroyed my brother who happens to be a multiple tag team champ world wide....and I sent him out of the I/W once again, this time on a stretcher!!! [The crowd boo's slightly, but too much since they are not a fan of Mike Johnston's.] THE MAIN EVENT: Then my pride and joy accomplishment....the one thing I have done in my life that makes me proud and makes me smile everytime I think about it! And that my friends.....was the fact that I....Andrew Johnston.....not only destroyed the body, but also destroyed the career of the man they call Hightower!!! [The crowd starts boo'ing wildly again, with some fans throwing garbage towards the ring.] THE MAIN EVENT: So when you look at my track record, when you look at the fact that not only am I The Main Event, but I am also The Career Killer.....then you have to know that tonight in this very ring.....Razor Ron Jeremy will become another fly on the windshield. Razor Ron Jeremy will become another piece of crap on the bottom of my shoes......and that is simple because...... [Before Andrew Johnston can finish his sentence, a voice echoes over the PA, causing a huge face pop from the crowd.] PA: CUZ RON IS GOD, AND GOD IS RON!!!!! [The opening horn of "Daterape" by Sublime begins to play over the loudspeakers, and the crowd pops!] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, hailing From Beverly Hills, California, USA, standing 6 foot 3 inches and weighing in at 280 pounds, here is... 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 wrestling shoes, kneepads, elbowpads, and wrist tape. "Ron is God and everyone else sucks," "Where can I find some Bootie?" and "Ron is God, but needs help!" signs. After a few seconds, RRJ feels the urge to sing the lyrics to his song.] RRJ: SHE DIDN'T WANT TO, HE HAD HIS WAY, SHE SAID LET'S GO, HE SAID...."RRJ!" C'MON BABE IT'S YOUR LUCK DAY, DADADADADADADADAY. HHHEEEEEHEHEHEEHEEEHAAAHAAAHAAA!!!! [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 he sticks it onto the turnbuckle.] DING! DING! DING! Jim Robson: Folks you are guaranteed of seeing one hell of a match up right now! This will be the ultimate in grudge matches!!! [In the ring Andrew Johnston and Razor Ron Jeremy slowly start to circle each other, almost like they are stalking each other as they prepare to lock-up.] Jack Anderson: Of course this will be the ultimate in grudge matches because RRJ stuck his nose in AJ's business where it didn't belong....so now AJ is gonna give that puke the beating of a life time, and hopefully this time Andrew Johnston will get a chance to light Bootie on fire for more than just a few seconds! Jim Robson: You're sick!!! [Just as RRJ and AJ are about to lock up in a Collar & Elbow Tie Up, AJ quickly lashes out, nailing RRJ with a thumb to the eye, prompting more boo's from the crowd.] Jim Robson: Andrew Johnston with a thumb to the eye! Jack Anderson: It's great to see that the classics never die!!! Jim Robson: Andrew Johnston now using those left jabs to stun RRJ even further.....Irish Whip by Andrew Johnston sends RRJ to the ropes........HURRICARANNA BY ANDREW JOHNSTON!!! Jack Anderson: Right there you see one of the most agile wrestlers in this business because at 6 foot 5 and 269 pounds he can fight you on the mat, he can fight you standing toe-to-toe, he can out power you, and just as we saw a few moments ago, he can make even the best high flyer look average next to himself! A very impressive young superstar who I believe is on his way straight to the top, like he isn't close enough to the top as it is already! [Andrew Johnston bounces off the ropes as Razor Ron Jeremy is down on the mat, and goes for an Elbow Drop, but RRJ rolls out of the way just in the nick of time, avoiding the elbow.] Jim Robson: AJ misses his mark and Ron is taking full advantage of that now! [RRJ starts punching away at the elbow of Andrew Johnston.] Jim Robson: RRJ trying to weaken that elbow.......RRJ now with an Arm Wringer on AJ...... [Andrew Johnston winces as RRJ keeps on yanking on his right arm. AJ struggles to get closer towards the turnbuckle, and once he gets within range, he leaps up to the second turnbuckle, then flips backwards so that he is standing behind RRJ now, free of the Arm Wringer.] Jim Robson: AJ escapes......FULL-NELSON SUPLEX BY ANDREW JOHNSTON!!! REF: One..... . . . . . Two..... . . . . . T..... Jim Robson: No kickout at two! Jack Anderson: Yes but that was very close to being a loss for RRJ, not only for this match but for his career! And it was moves like what we just saw from AJ just there that proves that he is the better man, and the better wrestler! Jim Robson: Well the better wrestler part I won't argue, but the better man comment? I don't think so! [Andrew Johnston hops out of the ring, looking underneath the ring for some kind of weapon. He finds a fire extinguisher, and throws it in the ring. Then he finds two kendo sticks, and throws them in the ring. Then he finds a trash can lid, and holds onto that as he slides back in the ring just as RRJ is getting back to his feet.] Jim Robson: Andrew Johnston with that trash can lid starting to raise it above his head......NO RRJ WITH A DROPKICK HITS THE TRASH CAN LID WHICH SMASHES RIGHT IN THE FACE OF ANDREW JOHNSTON!!! [The crowd gives a big pop as RRJ grabs the trash lid from the fallen Andrew Johnston, and begins to smash it repeatedly over his head, which prompts an even bigger face pop from the crowd.] Jack Anderson: Hey no fair! Jim Robson: It's a No DQ match Jack, anything is fair! Jack Anderson: Yeah but.....well that was AJ's weapon first! Jim Robson: Yeah too bad so sad! [RRJ finishes his trash can lid assault on Andrew Johnston, throwing the lid to the outside of the ring and taking a few moments to hype up the fans as the match continues.] Jack Anderson: What is this jerk trying to do now?!?! Jim Robson: He's trying to get the fans behind him..... Jack Anderson: God the fans this the fans that......I swear RRJ and Hightower were the two worst guys in this federation because they talked too much about the fans! [RRJ goes back towards Andrew Johnston, but AJ was ready for him, using the fire extinguisher to nail RRJ violently in the mid-section. RRJ staggers back holding his gut, and the two men end up on opposite ends of the ring glaring at each other. Then RRJ looks down on the mat and see's the two kendo sticks, and he picks them both up, tossing one to AJ.] Jim Robson: It looks like Razor Ron Jeremy wants a kendo stick duel! Jack Anderson: Now that just goes to show you exactly how stupid Razor Ron Jeremy is.....doesn't he know that The Main Event will outdo him in this little duel?!? [RRJ and AJ slowly circle each other, with kendo sticks in hand, waiting to strike.] Jim Robson: RRJ takes a swing at Johnston....no he ducks it and nails RRJ in the ribs! [The crowd boo's as RRJ holds his ribs, trying to shake off the pain as the two men go to circle each other again.] Jim Robson: The two men circle each other again.....RRJ goes for AJ's legs....no it's blocked and AJ retaliates with another shot to the ribs!!! Jack Anderson: Way to go AJ....I always knew you were good with a stick! Jim Robson: Care to rephrase that?? [RRJ backs off holding his ribs again and swearing underneath breath at the stinging blows from the kendo stick. Just when it looks like RRJ is about to give up this duel, he motions for the two superstars to continue.] Jack Anderson: Is RRJ that crazy?!? He hasn't gotten one shot in on AJ and he still wants to try??? Jim Robson: RRJ swings.....no it was a fake and AJ fell for it......AND RRJ NAILS AJ RIGHT ACROSS THE FACE WITH THE KENDO STICK!!! [The crowd gives a huge pop as AJ drops his kendo stick, putting his hands to his face and falling to the ground.] Jack Anderson: Oh no AJ's face!!! Jim Robson: Ron is going nuts on AJ now stomping him into the mat!!! RRJ picks Andrew up off the mat.....Irish Whip to the ropes.......BIG SPINEBUSTER BY RAZOR RON JEREMY!!! REF: One..... . . . . . Two..... . . . . . Three..... Jack Anderson: NO AJ KICKED OUT!!! Thank gawd AJ kicked out, and why not....he may be on a downhill slide right now, but it will take more than a kendo stick, more than a trash can lid, and especially more than a Spinebuster.....to get a three count on "The Main Event" Andrew Johnston!!! [The crowd seems a bit disappointed, but none the less they still cheer and get behind Razor Ron Jeremy.] Jim Robson: Well that remains to be seen as Razor Ron Jeremy is kicking away at Andrew Johnston.....RRJ lifts AJ to his feet leaning him against the ropes......Ron backs off and measures AJ......HUGE CLOTHESLINE FROM RRJ SENDING ANDREW JOHNSTON OVER THE TOP ROPES TO THE OUTSIDE OF THE RING RIGHT IN FRONT OF US!!! [The crowd gives a big pop as RRJ slowly climbs through the ropes to the outside of the ring, in pursuit of Andrew Johnston.] Jack Anderson: They are right in front of our table.....we might need to get out of the way...... Jim Robson: Hey my monitor.......!!! [As Andrew Johnston uses the commentators table to help prop himself up, he grabs the monitor being used by Jim Robson, and turns using the monitor as a battering ram on the side of RRJ's head, sending the former world champion crashing to the floor.] Jim Robson: MY GAWD DID YOU SEE THAT?!?! Jack Anderson: YEAH IT WAS GREAT WASN'T IT!!! GO AJ!!! [The crowd boo's as Andrew Johnston continues to use the monitor to smash RRJ in the head three more times. Then he throws the monitor to the side, and as he stands up straight he looks at the commentators table, then looks at the French announce table, then grabs a headset laying on the table looking straight at Jack Anderson.] Andrew Johnston: I'll be nice and use the other table, but only because YOU'RE sitting here Jack! Jack Anderson: Thank you AJ. Andrew Johnston: No problem I do appreciate the way you call my matches. Jim on the other hand needs to take some lessons from you! Oh by the way Jim, thanks for the use of the monitor! Jim Robson: You're despicable! Andrew Johnston: I feel sorry for you Jack having to work with him week after week! [AJ takes the head set off and returns his attention back to Razor Ron Jeremy, dragging him to the French Commentators table.] Jack Anderson: He's great isn't he? Jim Robson: No he's a cocky young arrogant little son of a bitch! Jack Anderson: Jim you swore! Jim Robson: Oh kiss my ass!! Jack Anderson:.......... [AJ gets RRJ on the table, and nails him with a couple of right hands for good measure.] Jim Robson: Andrew Johnston climbs back up on the ring apron.....no now he's going up to the top ropes......HIGHLITE REEL......HIGHLITE REEL!!! [The crowd gives a shocked heel pop as AJ hits his finisher The Highlite Reel (otherwise known as The Shooting Star Press) on RRJ, causing the table to break under the weight.] Jack Anderson: NOW THIS IS WHAT I CAME TO SEE!!! I CAME TO SEE THE MAIN EVENT PUNISH RRJ......I CAME TO SEE THE MAIN EVENT DESTROY RRJ......AND WE ARE WELL ON OUR WAY TO SEEING NOT ONLY THE END OF THIS MATCH BUT THE END OF RRJ'S CAREER!!! [The crowd boo's heavily as Andrew Johnston staggers to his feet, slightly shaken from the impact of the move, but he stops staggering once he see's the damage he has done while RRJ lays amongst a pile of debris. Then AJ throws RRJ in the ring, and slowly follows him in, acting very cocky, very sure that he has just won the match.] Jim Robson: The action is back in the ring now, AJ goes for the cover...... Jack Anderson: SAY GOODBYE TO RON!!!! REF: One..... . . . . . . . . . . Two..... . . . . . . . . . . THREE!!!!!! [Very shocked pop from the crowd.] Jack Anderson: YES HE GOT HIM......RRJ'S CAREER IS OVER!!! Jim Robson: I can't believe it.....I can't believe it!!! [Suddenly the crowd let's out a HUGE face pop.] Jack Anderson: Huh?? Jim Robson: HE DIDN'T GET HIM!!! HE DIDN'T GET HIM!!! REFEREE MICHAEL HALL SAYS IT WAS ONLY A TWO COUNT......SOMEHOW JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME RON GOT HIS SHOULDER UP!!! Jack Anderson: THERE IS NO WAY IN HELL HE COULD HAVE KICKED OUT AFTER THAT!!!!! [The crowd cheers wildly as Andrew Johnston stares at the ref in disbelief, in a state of shock. Finally AJ gets up and starts yelling at the referee, shoving him into the corner yelling at him violently.] Jack Anderson: That's it AJ you tell that damn moronic referee how to do his damn job!! Maybe buy him some glasses! Jim Robson: Well Razor Ron Jeremy somehow.....I don't know how but somehow he dug down deep after taking that devastating Highlite Reel and managed to kick out, saving his career from being put to an end! [As AJ continues to argue with the referee, behind his back Razor Ron Jeremy has managed somehow to get to his feet, taking a few brief moments to recuperate. Finally after gaining his second wind, RRJ walks right up to AJ and spins him around.] Jim Robson: RRJ with a kick to the mid-section......FISHERMAN'S DDT!!! [The crowd gives a huge pop as both men lay on the mat, too exhausted and sore to move.] Jim Robson: RRJ has AJ down, but RRJ himself is still too winded! Jack Anderson: Only a matter of time Jim....only a matter of time! [After sometime RRJ finally starts to stir, then as if he has just been snapped back to reality, Razor Ron Jeremy jumps up to his feet, seeming alive and full of energy as the crowd goes nuts.] Jim Robson: Ron is back on his feet.....AND I THINK ANDREW JOHNSTON IS IN SOME TROUBLE!!! Jack Anderson: Get up AJ.......GET UP!!! [RRJ looks around at the fans, then points towards Bootie.] Jim Robson: IT'S TIME FOR A BOOTIE CALL!!! [The fans go nuts as RRJ walks toward Bootie, but suddenly stops and looks upward, noticing that the enclosed steel cage above the ring has slowly started to descend towards the ring.] Jack Anderson: What's this??? Jim Robson: The cage is lowering?? [As the cage continues to make its decent, the VideoTron starts to flicker, and instead of the footage of what is taking place in the ring, the VideoTron shows the control room for the lighting and other technical stuff.] Jack Anderson: Hey that's the control room! Jim Robson: Yeah but why are we seeing this?? [Razor Ron Jeremy has noticed the VideoTron, and looks up at the footage, very interested and curious as to what is going on.] Jack Anderson: I think we're about to find out who's responsible for lowering the cage! [Just as the cage finishes lowering, the camera inside the control room pans to the right in order to show who lowered the cage. The crowd gasps first, then starts to boo as Tanya is seen on the screen, waving arrogantly and seductively to the camera.] Jim Robson: What's going on here?!?! Jack Anderson: That's easy......Tanya's trying to help out her man!!! [RRJ shakes his head, staring up at the VideoTron with a look of anger.] Jim Robson: RON LOOKOUT......!!!! [While Razor Ron Jeremy was distracted, "The Main Event" Andrew Johnston somehow managed to drag himself outside of the ring, grabbing something from underneath the ring, which is unidentifiable so far. As RRJ is staring up at the VideoTron, AJ sneaks up behind him, and uses the object he grabbed from underneath the ring to deliver a low blow on RRJ, causing the crowd to boo, and the boo's get deafening as AJ raises the object in the air as RRJ drops to the ground.] Jack Anderson: Hey it's the TroubleMaker! [The camera gets a closeup of "The Trouble Maker", a silver baseball bat, and the crowd continues to boo as AJ nods slowly, looking down at RRJ with a grin on his face.] Jim Robson: What's he gonna use that for?!?! Jack Anderson: One guess and one guess only......TO FINISH OFF RRJ!!! [Andrew Johnston looks around the arena at all the fans boo'ing him, and a sadistic smile forms on his face as he looks back at RRJ, who is trying to get to his feet. AJ watches him for a moment, then leaps forward, swinging the bat nailing RRJ across the ribs sending him crashing back down to the mat again. Then AJ repeatedly starts ramming the fatter end of the bat into the ribs of RRJ, seeming as if he won't stop, while the crowd is booing and cursing AJ.] Jim Robson: ANDREW JOHNSTON IS DESTROYING RRJ!!!! Jack Anderson: Just as I said he would! I told you Andrew Johnston is The Career Killer, and that's what he is doing right now......KILLING A CAREER!!! Jim Robson: Yeah but at the rate he's going he's gonna kill more than a career, he's gonna kill RRJ as well!!! [AJ continues to ram the bat into the ribs of RRJ, but then switches to actually swinging the bat, still connecting with the ribs but getting some shots in to the right leg of RRJ.] Jim Robson: This has got to be stopped!!! Jack Anderson: Why I'm enjoying this quite frankly! Beside's.....this match was made a No DQ match for this very reason, so using that baseball bat is as legal as using a clothesline! Jim Robson: Yes but RRJ could be destroyed here.....regardless of win or lose he could be seriously hurt or worse!! Jack Anderson: So your point being?!?! Jim Robson: My point being is that AJ doesn't want to just win this match, he wants to punish RRJ as well! Jack Anderson: And so he should! It's time that guys like Andrew Johnston stood up for themselves and stopped taking crap from every fan favorite here in the I/W.....and that is exactly what The Main Event is doing right now and I for one approve of this fully! [Andrew Johnston takes a break from his assault, looking at the downed RRJ who is almost passed out due to the pain he has received. AJ paces back and forth, looking down at RRJ licking his lips like RRJ is his prey, his dinner.] Jim Robson: I don't like the look on Andrew's face right now. [Andrew Johnston continues to have the sadistic, animal-like look on his face, then finally taps the end of the baseball bat against RRJ's head.] Jim Robson: No he wouldn't! Jack Anderson: I think he will!!!! [Andrew Johnston paces around more slightly, then positions himself by Razor Ron Jeremy's head, slowly raising the baseball bat above his head.] Jack Anderson: It's time to go for the killing blow! HA! Jim Robson: No damnit no......DAMNIT DON'T DO IT AJ!!! [As AJ has full extension of his arms above his head ready to strike downwards, a familiar voice booms over the PA.] PA: Get ready to become......JUST ANOTHER VICTIM!!! ["Trip Like I Do" by Filter/Crystal Method plays as the familiar voice and music cause the fans to erupt with an explosive face pop as the lyrics of the song play, while AJ looks up, slightly shocked, but he keeps his eye on the entrance way waiting to see who will come down to the ring.] Jim Robson: My gawd..... Jack Anderson: No it couldn't be......it can't damnit no.... [The songs continues to play as the person belonging to the music still has not come out from behind the curtain.] Jim Robson: Who else could it be?!?!? [Suddenly the man walks out from behind the curtain, and AJ's jaw drops open and he turns ghost white as he starts shaking, while the crowd is going completely ballistic.] Jim Robson: IT'S HIGHTOWER.......HIGHTOWER'S BACK!!!! Jack Anderson: NO I THOUGHT HE WAS IN THE HOSPITAL STILL!!!! [The crowd continues to cheer like crazy as Hightower stands up on the top of the entrance way, glaring down at "The Main Event" Andrew Johnston. Hightower's left knee has a full leg brace on it, and Hightower has a cane at his side as he stands there glaring down at the man who injured him and ended his career.] Jim Robson: HIGHTOWER IS HERE......HIGHTOWER IS HERE AND HE DOES NOT LOOK HAPPY!!!! Jack Anderson: But his career was ended over a month ago, he has no business being here!!! Jim Robson: It's his home town, and it's a No DQ Match Jack......HE HAS EVERY RIGHT TO BE HERE!!! [Hightower finally starts to make a slow decent down to the ring, keeping his eyes on Andrew Johnston the whole way down to the ring. While Hightower makes his way to the ring, AJ is still in a state of shock, still white as a sheet and trembling violently as he watches his former friend come down to the ring for some revenge.] Jim Robson: Last time we saw Hightower he had his knee destroyed, his shoulder separated, and his career ended all in one night, but he is here.....he is here RIGHT NOW and I've seen that look from Hightower before! Jack Anderson: SOMEBODY SAVE AJ PLEASE!!! [Hightower finally makes it to the ringside area, but stops right at the cage, still staring at AJ. After a few moments AJ slowly starts to relax, realizing that Hightower can't get into the ring because of the cage.] Jim Robson: Well it looks like AJ is safe for the time being..... [AJ starts to jaw at Hightower, who remain silent on the outside of the ring still. Moment by moment AJ seems to get even more cocky, and he starts to make faces at Hightower, but suddenly stops and turns pale again as the cage starts to rise up slightly.] Jack Anderson: WHAT THE HELL IS TANYA THINKING RAISING THAT CAGE?!?! [Once again the VideoTron flickers to life, once again showing the control room. The camera shows Tanya, laid out unconscious on the floor.] Jim Robson: What's going on here?? [The camera moves up to see who is now controlling the cage. All that the camera can tell is that the person is female, wearing a cowboy hat that is covering her face. Finally she takes off the cowboy hat, revealing long brown hair, and the crowd pops as they recognize her familiar face.] Jim Robson: IT'S JADE!!! THE FORMER GIRLFRIEND OF THE MAN FORMERLY KNOWN AS TRIPLE C IS HERE!!! [Jade waves and blows a kiss to the camera, while back at ringside AJ's jaw once again has dropped wide open in shock. For the first time since making his appearance, Hightower has a smile form on his face as he waits for the cage to clear his head before advancing towards the ring.] Jim Robson: Thanks to Jade...Hightower can finally get a piece of AJ!! Jack Anderson: RUN AJ RUN DAMNIT!!! [Hightower finally climbs through the ropes getting in the ring, smiling and glaring at Andrew Johnston as AJ is once again trembling violently. Andrew Johnston finally decides to make a run for it, but as he turns around he is greeted by a hard right hand to the jaw from Razor Ron Jeremy.] Jack Anderson: NO HE'S TRAPPED NO FAIR!!! [The crowd goes nuts as RRJ grabs the silver baseball bat from the mat, and he raises it above his head to nail AJ, but he pauses, then instead of nailing AJ with the baseball bat, he passes the bat to Hightower.] Jim Robson: RRJ just passed the bat to Hightower...... [AJ rushes to get to his feet, seeing RRJ in front of him stopping him in his tracks. Then as AJ turns the opposite way, he is greeted by a baseball bat to the face, courtesy of Hightower, and the fans once again give an explosive face pop.] Jack Anderson: OH MY GOD NO AJ'S FACE!!!!! Jim Robson: ANDREW JOHNSTON IS DOWN......but RRJ isn't going for the cover?? [RRJ and Hightower stare at each other, RRJ gestures to Hightower, who slowly nods and hands his cane to RRJ as Hightower picks AJ up off of the mat.] Jack Anderson: What's Hightower doing? [Hightower moves behind AJ, getting him in position for a pump handle maneuver.] Jim Robson: It's not just sweet revenge.....IT'S HIGHTOWER WITH THE VICTIMIZER ON ANDREW JOHNSTON!!! [The crowd pops as Hightower drills AJ with his move, then very quickly RRJ makes a pinfall cover.] REF: One..... . . . . . Two..... . . . . . THREE..... [Shocked pop from the crowd.] Jack Anderson: What the hell?!?! Jim Robson: Hightower just pulled RRJ off of AJ...breaking up the pinfall...... [RRJ gets to his feet and stands face to face with Hightower, neither man saying a word but RRJ has alot of anger on his face.] Jim Robson: Oh no I think we have another explosive situation here! Jack Anderson: Hightower and RRJ fighting? I hope they kill each other! [Hightower gestures from one side of the ring to the other, then points towards Bootie, and RRJ starts to smile and nod, finally understanding why Hightower stopped the pin. Finally RRJ himself gestures from one side of the ring to the other, then to Bootie. From there RRJ bounces off the ropes, heads towards the opposite ropes, and just as he bounces off the ropes for the second time he grabs Bootie at the last second, and as he nears Andrew Johnston, he smashes Bootie across the chest of AJ.] Jim Robson: BOOTIE CALL BOOTIE CALL BOOTIE CALL!!!! [The fans pop as RRJ goes for the cover.] REF: One..... . . . . . Two..... . . . . . THREE!!!!! DING! DING! DING! Jim Robson: RRJ WINS THE MATCH......AND THE CAREER OF ANDREW JOHNSTON HAS BEEN PUT TO AN END!!! Jack Anderson: Yeah no thanks to Hightower!!! FRANCINE: Here is your winner of the match..... . . . R A Z O R R O N J E R E M Y ! ! ! ["Daterape" by Sublime begins to play and the crowd cheers as RRJ and Hightower both embrace each other, celebrating the obvious victory.] -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- WINNER: RRJ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- Jim Robson: This is great......these two former tag team partners have been once again re-united, and together they have put an end to the man who called himself The Main Event......now I guess he has to call himself "The Unemployed" Andrew Johnston!!! Jack Anderson: Hey that's not funny!!! [After a few moments of catching up, Razor Ron Jeremy grabs a mic from Francine, and hands it towards Hightower, who pauses for a moment before accepting the mic from him. Hightower immediately holds up two fingers as he brings the mic to his mouth.] HIGHTOWER: Two things.....first of all.....it's great to be back in my hometown......OF VANCOUVER, BRITISH COLUMBIA!!!! [The Vancouver fans go nuts cheering the comments made by their hometown hero as Hightower waits for the crowd noise to die down.] HIGHTOWER: Second of all.....I never got to say goodbye! [More cheers from the crowd as Hightower scans the crowd, obviously feeling alot of emotions.] HIGHTOWER: So not only am I going to take this opportunity to say goodbye, but I also want to take this opportunity to say thank you! [The crowd cheers.] HIGHTOWER: Now if I've forgotten anybody I apologize in advance, and also forgive me if I'm not making too much sense. First off I would like to thank the President of the IWF/WOW, Chris Jurkschat. CJ put up with my crap over the last 4 years, he gave me chances and opportunities, and he has been very patient with me, especially within these last few weeks! [Hightower pauses allowing the crowd to cheer after each name mentioned.] HIGHTOWER: Fran......when I first brought Hightower into the I/W......whether you wanted to or not.....you had AJ Stanson help me out, and even though we barely spoke, you were like a mentor to me in this federation. [Pauses again.] HIGHTOWER: Jay Steele......when Hightower and Derrick DaMann had their feud, I may have come out on the losing end, but from fighting against you, after watching the way you acted.....in a small way you brought Hightower to a whole new level. [Pause.] HIGHTOWER: Brett.....Hightower and Charlie Vahn may not have made The Fraternity the powerhouse that we had hoped they would be.....but we still had fun toying with the idea.....and even though it was short lived.....I wished we could have kept it going just a tad bit longer. [Pause.] HIGHTOWER: Elliot......out of all the feuds I have had since I have been in wrestling, the feud that I had with Steve West was my first really good feud. We spent two years at each others throats, then last year we worked together and put together one of the most memorable matches of my career......the Triple Towers of Threat match! [The crowd cheers in memory of that particular match.] HIGHTOWER: Wade......what can I say.....we worked together for the first time last year, and after all our blood sweat and tears, Eric Travers passed the torch to Hightower once I was given the honor of becoming the I/W World Heavyweight Champion for the first time in my career! [Hightower pauses taking a deep breath.] HIGHTOWER: And the last person I want to thank is RRJ! [The crowd pops as Hightower looks at his former tag team partner, as RRJ seems surprised that he is being mentioned last.] HIGHTOWER: Matt you put your confidence in me when it came to the outcome of this match.....you had no idea what was going on, but you still let me do my thing. Matt I was a shitty tag team partner before, and the honest truth of the matter is if I could do it all over again......I would and the second time around I wouldn't be so ignorant! [Hightower pauses, emotion still overcoming him as he speaks.] HIGHTOWER: Matt you helped pave the way so that not only Triple C could make a name for himself, but so that I could make my return to the ring. And up until most recently, just a few weeks ago, when I was already beaten into a bloody pulp, you came out and tried to salvage some safety. Thanks man.... [The crowd cheers as the two friends embrace again, with RRJ still seeming confused as to what is going on. After some time Hightower goes to speak again.] HIGHTOWER: I wish I could tell all of you, whether you're a fan watching from the stands or a wrestler watching from the back, that one day you will see Chris "Hightower" Shannon back in an I/W ring......that you will see me in any ring.....but that's not going to happen. I'm not going to go into details why but the most I can say is that my health has continued to decline over the years, and well now.....it's not getting any better. [pause.] HIGHTOWER: I guess what I am trying to say is thank you to everybody for the past 4 years that I have spent in this federation, because they have been the best years of my wrestling career. And for anybody who is watching, for anybody who is reading, I want you all to realize that alot of bad things may happen to you in your life time, but the best way to avoid the oppression that life can bring, is to fight back, never give up hope, and always keep a positive attitude....and you will survive, you will succeed.....and most of all...... [Hightower looks back and forth around the arena, then at RRJ who gives him an approving nod.] HIGHTOWER: And most of all you will finally smell.....what Hightower is BURNING!!! ["Trip Like I Do" by Filter/Crystal Method plays as Hightower puts down the microphone, and slowly leaves the ringside area, to a standing ovation from the crowd knowing that this is the last time they will ever see Hightower in the I/W again.] Jim Robson: What can I say... I am in shock. Jack Anderson: Could this really be the last time we see Hightower in an IWF/WOW ring? Jim Robson: Maybe so... Jack Anderson: Could I only be so lucky?? Jim Robson: Give me a break Jack. He's an IWF/WOW legand, and he will be missed. Folks, as Hightower gets a few more cheers in the ring, we'll go backstage to Anthony Edwards, who is standing by with Justin Arcola. ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= [The camera cuts to the main backstage, at the makeshift interview area. A chain-link structure set with the huge "IWF/WOW End of the World" banner provides the backdrop for this exchange between the always-businesslike Anthony Edwards and the much larger subject of the interview, Justin Arcola. Arcola is dressed for combat, shirtless and clad only in his jeans, which are cut off just for the occasion. A look of pained intensity is on his face, almost a combination of anxiety and rage.] Anthony Edwards: Justin Arcola, in just a few minutes, you step into the War For Territory with your arch-nemesis, "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock. Justin Arcola: Can you feel it in the air, Anthony? It's something that isn't tangible. It can't be seen, smelled, or touched, but it's there all the same. That something is the raw intensity that crackles through the General Motors Arena tonight as Billy Rock and Justin Arcola prepare to square off in the match that's been ten months in the making. It's the War For Territory, quite possibly the most sadistic display of brutality ever seen in all of athletic competition. Justin Arcola: If you all thought Justin Arcola and Billy Rock in a steel cage couldn't be topped, you're in for the most welcome surprise of your life. If you thought Billy Rock and Justin Arcola at the Hell in a Cell was something incredible, then in just a few minutes, you will bear witness to a spectacle that defies description. War For Territory will dwarf any previous encounter you've ever witnessed. It will put any other match to shame and give new meaning to the term, "extreme". [Distinct pop from the arena crowd comes in over Edwards' mike.] Justin Arcola: Now Billy, as you and I both know, you did have the momentum going into last week. But that all stopped when I slapped on that Crossface and you found out exactly why I am the single most lethal man in this industry. Just remember that you alone are responsible for taking me to this point that I'm at now. Bleeding at your hands week after week, watching and feeling the life essence drain from me, it was simply too much for a young college boy to handle. He had to be destroyed, Billy, utterly eliminated from this world, this very plane of existence! In his place is the man you helped to spawn, an utterly decadent wrestling machine, a true rabid animal of the ring, capable of crippling anyone who gives him cause without so much as a second thought. And when you stare up at me when it's all said and done tonight, your face a twisted semblance of its former self, I sincerely hope you will receive the epiphany I've been trying to hammer into you for weeks now. After this is over, you will understand the true folly of your actions in angering me, in ending the professional life of Johnny Spades, and in soiling that Intercontinental Belt that now wilts around your waist. You will realize once and for all the true meaning of agony and suffering beyond your wildest imagination. What's driving me is something accessible to even your feeble comprehension, Rock. It's not revenge for the closest thing I've got to a friend, Johnny Spades. It's not the need to prove that my 0-3 record in matches with you is meaningless. It's not the desire, at twenty-three years of age, to finally become a man in that ring. And it sure as hell isn't the Intercontinental Title. No, that which fuels my passion for making you scream in pain can be summed up in one word: bloodlust. [Pause] Justin Arcola: Oh yeah... that surprises all of you, doesn't it? It's not like me to intentionally be out to maim a person, is it? Get over yourselves, people. You're looking at a changed man, someone who is capable of walking into the War For Territory and walking out in one piece while his opponent is carted off on a gurney. I've been taken to this level by forces beyond my control and now it's time for the world to feel the wrath of the new and improved Justin Arcola. Billy Rock, God help you for what you have wrought... [Arcola's attention is by something else backstage. He turns back to Anthony Edwards sharply.] Justin Arcola: Talking time's over! Anthony Edwards: Folks, back to ringside! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= END OF THE WORLD 5 CONTINUES IN PART 5!!! Jim Robson: Up next is the North American Championship match between the champion Alex Cote and "Couch Potato" Carl Lumski. Jack Anderson: I can't wait to see what kind of animal this girlfriend of Lumski's is. My guess is she looks like a fat shnouzer. Jim Robson: You're unreal. Let's go to Francine for the introductions. _______ ______ | ____\ \ / / ___| -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- | _| \ \ /\ / /|___ \ NORTH AMERICAN TITLE MATCH | |___ \ V V / ___) | Alex Cote vs Carl Lumski |_____| \_/\_/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- ------------------------> WRITER: Wade Thompson <------------------------ FRANCINE: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the IWF/WOW NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPIONSHIP!!!! [Crowd pops] FRANCINE: Introducing first... from Scranton, Pennsylvania... weighing two hundred and five pounds... "COUCH POTATO" CARL LUMSKI! [The crowd's cheers intensify as Carl emerges from behind the entrance curtain. Dressed in a white "Archie Bunker For President" t-shirt, a pair of faded blue jeans, and a tattered, old pair of Adidas sneakers, Carl makes his way down the aisle, high-fiving a few fans along the way. Finally, he makes it to the ring. Carl slides underneath the bottom rope and enters the squared circle...] Jack Anderson: What the hell? Where's Lumski's girlfriend?? Jim Robson: I have no idea Jack. Maybe she couldn't make it. Jack Anderson: Either that, or she doesn't even exist!! Jim Robson: I suppose that's a possibility... Jack Anderson: A STRONG possibility!! Look at him!! [Lights go out as the big screen pulses "THE HAMMER" in big red letters lighting up the arena.] VOICE: Ladies and gentleman....introducing..... ["Full Nelson" by Limp Bizkit begins to play loudly over the PA system beginning with a loud guitar solo.] "WHY'S EVERYBODY ALWAYS PICKING ON ME? DOES ANYONE REALLY KNOW A THING ABOUT ME? BUT ONE OF THESE DAYS WE'LL BE IN THE SAME PLACE, IN THE SAME PLACE PUNK, AT THE VERY SAME TIME, AND WHEN IT TAKES PLACE AND YOU WANNA TALK SHIT, THEN STEP YOUR ASS UP AND SAY IT RIGHT TO MY FACE!" [As the the guitar blares through the speakers, a blast of fire burst up from the entrance illuminating the walkway as "The Hammer" Alex Cote stands in the blast, back facing the crowd.] "YOU'LL GET KNOCKED THE F^CK OUT!" [Alex spins around and looks out to the crowd with a big grin on his face as they all stand and cheer him on.] "CUZ YOUR MOUTH WRITING CHECKS THAT YOUR ASS CAN'T CASH!" [Alex's attire consist of a pair of dark blue jeans with a black tang top with "'THE HAMMER' ALEX COTE, SCARY SHIT EH?" on the front and a pair of black leather boots. covering Alex back is a long black velvet robe down to his mid calfs with "THE HAMMER" in red glittering lettering on the back. Covering Alex's hands are leather gloves cut at the knuckles and his eyes are covered my dark Oakley sunglasses.] "KNOCKED STRAIGHT THE F^CK OUT!" FRANCINE: Coming down the aisle, hailing from the "City of Brotherly Love" weighting in at a mean three hundred and twenty eight pounds of twisted steel and sex appeal, he is your lord and savior, the personification of perfection, the epitome of excellence, your hero and mine, he is....... THE IWF/WOW NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION!!!!! !!!!!_"THE HAMMER"_!!!!!_ALEX_!!!!!_COTE_!!!!! [Alex hold his arms straight up in the air with a big grin on his face.] "CUZ YOUR MOUTH WRITING CHECKS THAT YOUR ASS CAN'T CASH!" [Alex slams them down at his sides as sparks fly from around him. He looks around and slowly steps his way down the aisle.] "I CAN'T BELIEVE ALL THIS SHIT YOU BE TALKING ABOUT ME. DON'T EVEN KNOW ME ENOUGH TO BE TALKING SHIT ABOUT ME. BUT ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GONNA CATCH YOU IN THE ACT, IN THE ACT RED HANDED, CAUGHT UP IN THE ACT PUNK, AND THAT'LL BE THE DAY, THE ONE AND ONLY DAY, YOU BETTER STEP YOUR ASS UP AND SAY IT RIGHT TO MY FACE!" [Alex climbs over the top rope into the ring.] "YOU'LL GET KNOCKED THE F^CK OUT!" [Alex walks over to the corner, steps out on the second rturnbuckle and looks out into the crowd. He rubs his goatee and grins.] "CUZ YOUR MOUTH WRITING CHECKS YOUR ASS CAN'T CASH!" [Alex jumps down off the turnbuckle and walks over to his corner.] "KNOCKED STRAIGHT THE F^CK OUT!" [Alex removes his robe revealing the back of his tang top which says "IF YOU WERE THIS GOOD, YOU WOULD BE ME." And a big smiley face in the background.] "CUZ YOUR MOUTHS WRITING CHECKS YOU ASS CAN'T CASH!" [Alex removes his sunglasses and throws them out in the crowd. He leans back on the corner as the music fades into nothing.] [DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!] Jim Robson: There's the bell, and this match is underway!! Lumski will have to be on his toes in this matchup. Alex Cote has more than one hundred and twenty pounds on his challenger!! Jack Anderson: Good, maybe Cote will beat the living hell out of Lumski and we'll never have to put up with his antics ever again! Jim Robson: The two men circle and lock up. Cote just THREW Lumski into the turnbuckle from near the center of the ring!! Jack Anderson: Lumski looks a little shaken. I guess locking up wasn't the greatest idea... Hahahaha. Jim Robson: Lumski regroups and moves in close to Cote again... OOOH what a stiff kick to the thigh!! And another!!! Lumski is continuing to kick the right thigh of Cote!! 6...7...8...9...10!! And Alex Cote finally drops to one knee after 10 STIFF kicks to the right thigh... OH MY GAWD!!! WHAT A KICK TO THE JAW BY CARL LUMSKI!!!! Jack Anderson: That was vicious!! Lumski even took a couple of steps back, and put all two hundred and five pounds into that one!! Good thing he doesn't weigh too much!! Jim Robson: Weight or no weight, that had to do some serious damage!! Lumski grabs Cote and drags him up to his feet. Headbutt!! and again!! and again!! A series of headbutts from Carl Lumski!!! Jack Anderson: Yeah, but I think the goofy bastard knocked himself loopy as well as Cote!! Jim Robson: I think you're right Jack, Lumski looks a little shaken, but Cote is face first on the mat!! Lumski kneels down and rolls Cote onto his back!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . Cote kicks out!!! Jack Anderson: You know, that reminded me that the times must be few and far between that Lumski rolls ANY human being on their back. Hehehe... Cause it's becoming painfully obvious that this Fleur chick is a figment of his imagination. Jim Robson: I know she's not here, but let's give him the benefit of the doubt... Jack Anderson: Or the benefit of a call girl... He MUST be sick of his hands by now... Jim Robson: JACK!!!! Jack Anderson: What!?!?!? Jim Robson: Lumski lifts Cote and shoves him into a corner. Lumski unloads with a series of right hands!! Cote is slumped in the corner as Lumski bends and lifts him in a fireman's carry... DEATH VALLEY DRIVER!!!! Another cover by Lumski!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . POWERFUL KICKOUT BY COTE!!! Jack Anderson: Cote almost threw Lumski out of the ring on that kickout. The nerd is still a LONG way from beating Cote. Jim Robson: Lumski quickly lifts Cote again. Lumski with a knee to the stomach!! Lumski bounces off the ropes... KNEELIFT DROPS COTE!!! Lumski bounces off the ropes... Kneedrop to the forehead connects!!! Lumski stands and stomps away at the forehead of Alex Cote!!! Lumski lifts Cote again and whips him into the ropes... REVERSED INTO A SHORT-ARM CLOTHESLINE BY ALEX COTE!!! HE NEARLY TOOK LUMSKI'S HEAD OFF!!!! Jack Anderson: Lumski's head bounced off the mat like a soccer ball!! I'm not the biggest Cote fan, but THAT was cool!! Jim Robson: Alex Cote slowly lifts Lumski and drills him with an elbow to the side of the head!! Cote turns Lumski around and sets him up... BELLY TO BACK SUPLEX!!!! Jack Anderson: I love watching little guys get thrown around by larger guys. They bounce around like ping pong balls, it's great!!! Jim Robson: Cote lifts Lumski and whips him into the ropes... TILT-A-WHIRL BACKBREAKER!!! My gawd, he nearly broke Lumski into two halves!!! Cote lifts Lumski again and whips him into a corner!! Cote charges... SPEAR IN THE CORNER!!! I'll be surprised if Lumski's ribs aren't at the very least bruised!!! Jack Anderson: Cote hit Lumski with a LOT of force!! He had a full head of stem going into the corner!! Jim Robson: It looks like Lumski is going in for the kill!! He's backs up and charges again... LUMSKI GETS OUT OF THE WAY, AND COTE'S SHOULDER GOES CRASHING HARD INTO THE RINGPOST!!!! Cote goes to the well once too often, and gets burned!!! Jack Anderson: I don't know that Lumski didn't just fall out of the way as opposed to GETTING out of the way!! He's still down on the mat clutching at his ribs!!! Jim Robson: Well Lumski has a lot of heart, but he isn't the most fit and muscular of wrestlers. When Lumski gets nailed like that, that's as close to seeing a fan get hit as you can get!! Jack Anderson: There's an idea. One fan a week gets a Cote spear in the corner on Mayhem. We could have a jackpot that builds from week to week, and the first fan to not be taken to the hospital with internal bleeding collects the jackpot, and a date with Lumski's imaginary girlfriend. Jim Robson: You're sick!! Not to mention, you have no proof that this girl Fleur doesn't exist!! Jack Anderson: And I suppose you have proof that she DOES exist? She's supposed to be here tonight Jim, where is she? Jim Robson: You have a point... Lumski is struggling to stand, and Cote is clutching at his shoulder. Cote slides out of the ring, and hunches over, clutching at that right shoulder!! OH MY WORD!!! LUMSKI DIVES THROUGH THE ROPES AND KNOCKS COTE INTO THE STEEL BARRICADE!!! Jack Anderson: I knew that little bastard was psychotic!!! Jim Robson: I think Lumski did as much damage to himself as he did to Cote on that exchange!! You can smell how bad Lumski wants the North American Title!!! Jack Anderson: Is THAT what that is!? I thought you had gas! Jim Robson: Are you ever serious? Jack Anderson: I'm being serious!! It's not uncommon for a man your age to have horrific smelling gas, and an inability to control it! Jim Robson: Lumski is up, and lifts Cote. Lumski walks Cote to the ringpost... AND SLAMS HIM FACE FIRST INTO THE POST!!! Lumski hangs on to Cote's head and walks him over our way... LOOK OUT!!! [The crowd pop as Lumski slams Cote's face off of Robson's monitor on the announce table.] Jack Anderson: Disqualify him!! That's high quality visual equipment!!!! Jim Robson: Lumski pulls Cote away from the table... AND WHIPS HIM INTO THE RINGSTEPS!!! COTE HIT THEM WITH HIS RIGHT SHOULDER!!! Lumski doesn't give Cote a second to breathe as he begins stomping away on the right shoulder of Alex Cote!! Jack Anderson: Referee Geoff Cartwright isn't counting these guys out, he's letting them fight it out!!! Jim Robson: Lumski lifts Cote... COTE LIFTS LUMSKI... AND HOTSHOTS HIM ON THE STEEL BARRICADE!!!!! Jack Anderson: NICE!! Jim Robson: Cote and Lumski are both down on the floor, as Cartwright continues to let them stay out of the ring as long as they want!! Cote is the first one up, and he lifts Lumski and rolls him into the ring. Cote rolls in and slowly gets up, lifts Lumski to his feet. Cote sets Lumski up and lifts him high with a Vertical Suplex... Cote holds Lumski up there... AND BRINGS HIM CRASHING DOWN!!!! Jack Anderson: That must have knocked the wind out of Lumski... Probably hot air, because he's full of it!! Hahaha!! But seriously, Cote is hurt too. That suplex put a lot of strain on his right shoulder, which has to be hurting him! Jim Robson: Cote stands and lifts Lumski again... Cote locks Lumski in a reverse waistlock.... RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX!!!! DID YOU SEE LUMSKI'S HEAD BOUNCE OFF THE MAT!! Jack Anderson: That and that his momentum took his feet up and over his head!!! He looks like he's in an ackward position!! [The camera shows Lumski face down with his feet caught up on the top rope] Jim Robson: Cote continues to try and work out that shoulder as he lifts Lumski's upper torso... AND DROPS HIM!!! LUMSKI'S FACE BOUNCES OFF THE MAT AGAIN!!! Cote lifts Lumski's feet off the top rope and rolls him over!!! Cote covers!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . LUMSKI KICKS OUT!!! Jack Anderson: Resilient for a couch potato isn't he? Jim Robson: Cote gets up and lifts Lumski again... Cote sets up for a Northern LIghts Supl... DEVASTATING DDT BY CARL LUMSKI!!! HE JUST PLANTED COTE'S HEAD INTO THE MAT!!! Jack Anderson: He caught the big man by surprise!! Jim Robson: Lumski rolls Cote over and covers!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . Cote kicks out!!!! Jack Anderson: There's the weight factor again!! Jim Robson: Lumski lifts Cote and sets him up... SWINGING NECKBREAKER!!! Lumski stands, and... where's he going!?!? Lumski is headed for the top turnbuckle!!! Lumski stands, poerched on the top rope... SWAN DIVE HEADBUTT!!!! RIGHT ON THE SHOULDER OF ALEX COTE!!!!!! Lumski covers again!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!! NO!!!!! COTE KICKED OUT AT 2 AND A HALF!!!!! Jack Anderson: That was awfully close!!! Jim Robson: Lumski lifts Cote and sets him up... DOUBLE ARM DDT!!! Lumski is headed back to the top rope again!!! Lumski dives.... FROG SPLASH!!!! Jack Anderson: And a rather ugly one at that!!! Jim Robson: Maybe, but it did some damage to Cote, but unfortunately to the tender ribs of Lumski as well!!! Jack Anderson: Maybe he should get his "girlfriend" out here rub them better!! I'm sure she's quite the hottie too, if she exists that is... If you like 'em round with pimples on thier fat ass!! Jim Robson: C'mon Jack, concentrate on the match!! Jack Anderson: Hey, Lumski is the one who told everybody this ficticious girlfriend of his would be here, so don't be getting on my case if I call him on his outright lie... Though as ugly as she probably is, I doubt I'd want to see the cow anyway!! Jim Robson: You have no tact at all!! Lumski is up and lifts Cote... Cote with a vicious right hand to the ribs!!! Cote scoops Lumski and slams him hard to the mat!! Cote lifts Lumski again... AND PRESSES HIM OVER HIS HEAD... COTE THROWS LUMSKI OUT OF THE RING, AND PART WAY UP THE AISLE!!!!!!! What a display of strength by Alex Cote... But again, he's favouring that shoulder!!! Jack Anderson: That wasn't THAT impressive a display... Half of the roster could throw a two hundred and five pound man into the aisle!! Jim Robson: Cote rolls out of the ring, and goes over to where Lumski is laying, in an obvious amount of pain. Cote lifts Lumski and scoops him up. Cote carries Lumski to the ringpost and... RAMS HIM BACK FIRST INTO THE POST!!! THAT HAS TO HURT THOSE RIBS!!! Jack Anderson: Both of these guys have wrestled smart so far, I have admit. Lumski has stayed on Cote's right shoulder, and Cote has continued to attack Lumski's ribs!! Jim Robson: Cote grabs Lumski and lifts him... LOW BLOW BY LUMSKI!!!! He sensed he was in trouble, and now I guess he's put it off for a little while!!! Jack Anderson: Great move!! I'm surprised Lumski would do that, but he must want this title pretty bad... Almost as bad as he wants a REAL girlfriend!!! Jim Robson: Lumski lifts Cote and shoves him backwards!! Cote's head bounces off the ringpost, staggering the big man!! Cote stumble right into a scoop up by Lumski.... OH MY GAWD!!!!! [HUGE Crowd POP] Jim Robson: Carl Lumski just gave Alex Cote the Nielsen Spike on the floor outside the ring!!!! Jack Anderson: If they were in the ring, we'd be looking at a new champion right now, but as it stands, Lumski has to get Cote's three hundred and twenty eight pounds of dead weight back into the ring, and I don't think he has the strength to do it!!!! Jim Robson: I don't know about that, Lumski has fought a very determined match, and it wouldn't surprise me to see him get Cote back into the ring. Jack Anderson: With those sore ribs? Jim Robson: He's going to try!! Lumski is lifting Cote to his feet, but the Champion is nearly out of it!!... Wait!! Lumski has Cote up on his shoulders!!!! Jack Anderson: I don't believe it!!! Jim Robson: Lumski has Cote to the apron, and he dumps him into the ring!!! Man does this kid want that North American Title!! He's been after it since he came to the IWF/WOW, and he's looking like he may get it!! Lumski rolls into the ring and covers Cote!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!! UNBELIEVABLE!!! COTE KICKED OUT!!!!!!! Jack Anderson: WOW!!! There's some determination from the champion!!! Jim Robson: Lumski can't believe it!!! He looks a little frustrated now!! lumski lifts Cote... Small package by the big man!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOLD ON!!! LUMSKI KICKED OUT!!!! Jack Anderson: Where'd THAT come from!?!? Jim Robson: Both men up slowly... Lumski is the first one up. He grabs Cote and whips him into the ropes... REVERSED... POWERSLAM BY COTE!!!! Lumski's feet inadvertantly caught the referee in the head, and Geoff Cartwright is down!!! Cote hasn't seen this yet, he's headed for the top rope!!! [There is a crowd reaction, and the camera catches a petite woman with long blond hair jumping over the guardrail. She's wearing a black Red Dwarf "Better Dead Than Smeg" half-shirt and tight black pants. As Cote gets to the top rope, the woman jumps up on the apron.] Jack Anderson: Who is THIS!?!? Jim Robson: Some woman has jumped up on the apron behind Cote... AND SHE NAILS HIM WITH A STIFF LOW BLOW!!!! COTE FALLS AND STRADDLES TO THE TOP TURNBUCKLE!!! This woman is climbing the ropes!?!?!? [MONSTER CROWD POP] Jim Robson: This woman just brought "The Hammer" Alex Cote off the top rope with a HURRICANRANA!!!!! You know what? I think that must be Fleur!!! Jack Anderson: No way!! She's not round and covered in pimples!! Jim Robson: Lumski just got up and sees Fleur! She runs over and gives him a kiss!!! Look at Lumski!! He's more excited than I've ever seen him!!! Lumski grabs Cote's leg and drags him to the middle of the ring!!! Lumski climbs the ropes and stands on the top turnbuckle!! Lumski looks down at his girlfriend and blows her a kiss, and now leaps.... FLYING ELBOW DROP!!!!!! LUMSKI COVERS!!!!! Cartwright has almost come to, and sees the pin attempt... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WE HAVE A NEW NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!] Jack Anderson: I don't believe it!!!!! FRANCINE: The winner of this bout, and NEW IWF/WOW NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION!!!! "COUCH POTATO" CARL LUMSKI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- WINNER: Carl Lumski -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- [The crowd cheer as "Having an average weekend" by Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet plays and Lumski is handed the belt, and then another kiss and hug from Fleur] Jack Anderson: How did that little bastard score this Fleur chick!?!? Jim Robson: I don't know, but look at Lumski!! He's got to be the happiest man in the world right now!! He looks like he just won the lottery!!! Jack Anderson: In a sense he did!! I can't believe he beat Cote!! Not that Cote is any good, but c'mon... One hundred pound weight disadvantage for Lumski, and he pulls it out!! Jim Robson: I can't believe Fleur gave Cote a Hurricanrana! [As Anderson and Robson are talking, Fleur and Lumski are outside the ring, celebrating the win with the fans.] Jim Robson: It's a HUGE celebration here at GM Place as Carl Lumski has captured the North American Title!! Jack Anderson: This makes me sick... god, I hate to admit it, but Anthony Edwards and Billy Rock are backstage, and I can't wait to see it just to get away for Lumski... take it away, Tony. ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= [We come across "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock backstage with his head hung and his back against the wall. He wears his wrestling attire, accentuating it with the I/W Intercontinental Title holding onto his waist. Elevating his head leisurely, through the strands of damp caramel hair tangled over his face, his eyes terrorize the camera. His deep, gravely voice hisses through clinched teeth.] Billy Rock: Here's one more look, Justin. One more time for you to see it coming. One last warning sign before you walk your trembling legs down that aisle. No, I'm not suggesting that you withdraw your offer to my yearning for blood tonight. I'm just giving you one last look at the mistake you've made. [Stepping forward.] Billy Rock: You think sproutin' a little nut hair across your face makes you _tough_, Justin? Think it makes you a man? You think recycling trash from Desert Scorpion's garbage makes you sound a little sharper? You think getting the most wicked beatings you've ever tasted stomped down your throat for three weeks in a Godd*mn row makes you any kind of a philosopher on brutality? I'll tell you what it makes you, especially when you choke out the kind of bile you were stinkin' up that pre-show with. It makes you a f*cking joke, Justin, and after tonight all you'll be is a punchline at best. You know, as I watched the video of what Shane and I did to Johnny Spades two weeks ago, a tear came to my eye. [Nodding.] Billy Rock: Yeah. It's still _that_ funny. You know what else is a Godd*mn riot? A guy who doesn't know the feeling of nailing my shoulders to the mat telling me that I can't see when I'm beat. [Infuriated.] Billy Rock: A _BOY_ WHO'S BLOOD I'VE SMEARED ACROSS THE ENTIRE MOTHERF*CKING COUNTRY TELLS _ME_ THAT I DON'T HAVE A CLUE! [Simmering.] Billy Rock: You think I'm gonna leave the GM Place sticking out like a sore thumb, Justin? No freakin' way. Your blood is gonna run down these walls too. [Snaps his head, lashing the hair out of his face.] Billy Rock: You wanna play make believe tonight? You wanna pretend you've got the mind for this? I'm gonna do exactly what you want. I'm gonna bend your mind tonight. Oh I'm gonna twist you up, Justin. From head to f*cking toe, it'll be my God granted pleasure to mangle you inside and out. [Pats his injured shoulder.] Billy Rock: You think this is important to me? If I coward from pain, Justin, I'd still be locking myself behind my bedroom door while my father found more creative ways to get through it. I've come to adopt the deformed wisdom my father. All the senseless beatings, bruises, broken bones ... all the heartlessness and the ice cold affection. It's become an ally in the space and time around me. Tonight I define terror. I don't know where he is, and I don't care, but tonight my father is close. He's somewhere in here, Justin. [Pointing to his chest.] Billy Rock: You wanna take a guess at what I'm about? What fuels me? What squeezes my trigger? _Who_ ... _I_ ... _am_? [Malevolent smirk.] Billy Rock: Sssshhh. Best to keep quiet, Justin. Whatever you think, it ain't even close. You're experience tonight is gonna leave you with the realization that you've been asking all the wrong questions. It's not about _who_ I am. All you'll be wondering tomorrow ... is _WHAT_ I am. [Fades back to ringside.] ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= END OF THE WORLD 5 CONTINUES IN PART 6!!! Jim Robson: Well, ladies and gentlemen, if you'll direct your attention to the ring... Jack Anderson: They don't have much choice, Jim. The camera's showing them nothing BUT the ring! Jim Robson: Well...anyway, you'll see the crew is lowering a cable from the rafters. On the end of that cable? It's 10 feet of coiled barbed wire! Jack Anderson: Oh yeah, this is gonna be frickin' awesome! It's the Stairway to Hell! Jim Robson: A ladder in the aisle, barbed wire above the ring, and broken bodies in their wake. Plus, as we found out earlier here tonight, the winner will get a shot at the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Championship! We're just about ready to get going, so take it away, Francine! _______ ______ | ____\ \ / / ___| -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- | _| \ \ /\ / /|___ \ STAIRWAY TO HELL MATCH! EARN A WORLD TITLE SHOT! | |___ \ V V / ___) | Suicidal Tendency vs Shane St. Clair vs Maverick |_____| \_/\_/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- --------------------------> WRITER: Matt Weeks <-------------------------- FRANCINE: The following contest, scheduled for one fall, is our special Three-Way Stairway to Hell Match! [BIG TIME POP!] FRANCINE: Introducing the participants, first... ["Rock the Party" by P.O.D. begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd boos.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Grosse Pointe, Michigan standing 6 feet 5 inches and weighing 350 pounds, here is ... Maverick!!!! [Green laser lights fill the arena and flood the entrance as the arena lights go down and Maverick walks out backwards with his arms outstretched from his body. He has on his leather jacket with his name spelled out in gothic letters. He is wearing denim shorts, and his boots have metal plates that extend from his toes to the top of his ankle. Maverick, his head lowered and his hair in front of his face, slowly turns to the ring and drops his arms as he flips his hair out of his face. He looks out across the arena as the lights come back up and he starts the walk to the ring. He gets to the ring and removes his jacket revealing a T-shirt of some obscure rock band. We also see that his fists are taped. He drops his jacket and slides under the bottom rope ready for action.] FRANCINE: His opponent... [The opening chords to (hEd)p.e.'s "Killing Time" 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... [As the smoke dissipates, the form of a man carrying a walking cane is revealed where the cloud was. The man is Suicidal Tendency.] # Baby, I'm a survivor! # # Baby, I'm on fire! # # Baby I'm 'bout to creep up inside ya'! # [The lyrics to "Killing Time" continue, and Suicidal Tendency begins walking to the ring. 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. The purple and red streaks in the wet hair give him a cold, calculating look.] FRANCINE: Ladies and gentlemen... the commissioner of the IWF/WOW... here is... SUICIDAL... TENDENCY!!! [The crowd responds to the introduction with a huge heel pop, as Suicidal Tendency 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 Tendency 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. The music fades out.] FRANCINE: And their opponent.... ["Ultra Mega" by Powerman 5000 begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd boo's loudly.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Jacksonville, FL standing 6 feet 1 inches and weighing 270 pounds, here is ... "The Headliner" Shane St. Clair!!!!! [Shane St. Clair steps out from behind the curtain. Red pyro's flare on all sides as he moves down the ramp way. He has a pair of yellow thigh length wrestling tights with Headliner across the back. His hair sandy brown hair is wet down, and is plastered across his forehead. He has calf high black wrestling boots with, yellow tassels down the side. His wrist are wrapped in black athletic tape. Water glistens off his massive upper body, the veins pumping out from underneath the surface of the skin. He arrives at ring side, and pulls out a microphone. He paces back and forth tapping the mic in his hand. He smiles at the two men, and brings the mic to his lips. Shane runs his hand across his throat signaling for the sound crew to cut the music. The sound crew promptly cuts the song mid-voice as Shane sits and stares down the two men in the ring. He chuckles, and reaches behind his back pulling out a piece of white IWF/WOW stationary. He waves it at the two men, as if he were presenting his banner for all to see...] SHANE ST. CLAIR: Now boys I told you that fighting Shane St. Clair wouldn't come without paying a price. Had I of known how idly you would have taken this threat, I might have asked for more but for the time being this will do. Throughout the last couple of weeks, you two gentlemen have deemed it open game to poke fun at my intelligence. Making comments like...I think the roids have rotted your mind St. Clair..., etc., etc.Frankly a normal man might have even been a little offend by some of these off handed comments, but in the end I realized it was two simple minds working together to try and find a common bond Regardless, I told you and told you there was going to be a big secret that would be revealed at End of the World, so without further hesitation boys....here it is. In the contract that was signed that faithful night on Mayhem, a clause was enlisted to make this otherwise dead match a little more interesting. Looking at the grand scheme of things, neither of your boys really had all that much at stake coming into this match. After all, I am the #2 contender, soon to be #1. My pride, my reputation, and most of all my position in regards to the world heavyweight title were on the line here. Now I know that doesn't mean a lot to either of you gentlemen considering the only gold you boys will ever see is the caps on your mother teeth, but it means something to me. Now I could have asked for simple, something like a title shot or a stipulation but I didn't feel that would be my style. I could have asked for something huge, like a career or something else but that didn't seem all that plausible either But I just couldn't figure out what the hell I wanted, so I made it as broad for interpretation as the eye can see. In Section D Line 42 of the Shane St. Clair invitational contract it is specified in other terms then simply.... In the event of a loss to Mr. Shane St. Clair, the looser of the Shane St. Clair invitational much grant one request of Shane St. Clair. So it's just that simple. If you boys loose...you are loosing more then just a simple match. Sounds interesting right? Well, it gets better... [...Shane smiles at the two men continuing to shake the IWF/WOW stationary in his hand...] In my hand I hold an authorized document...a document signed by none other then the President himself. All be it he was a little reluctant, it's amazing what the price of a high powered New York Lawyer can do, it is legal in ready. Pay attention ST, this is for you.... ST, I hold in my hand your recognition as Commish of the IWF/WOW. You loose tonight...your fired. YOUR FINISHED! You bullshit is finished! You loose tonight you sign this paper and go back to being just the simple bitch you always were. I feel it's pretty fair being as how you never really got the job anyway. As for you Maverick, I have something much more...interesting if you will. If you loose tonight, at the following Mayhem after End of the World. You are going to come out in front of the world, get on your groveling hands and knees and in front of the God and everyone you are gonna tell them.....YOU RESPECT SHANE ST. CLAIR!!! You are gonna bow your lowly head like a groveling servant and show the world how big of a bitch you can truly be. Well,...the surprise it out and the barb wire is up. So boys and girls lets get this started... Jim Robson: Oh yeah!! St. Clair is ready! Jack Anderson: Take a look at him, Jim. He's pumped up big time for this fight. Jim Robson: Rumors are abound that St. Clair has been supplementing his workouts with Androcomite, a new experimental drug. Folks, let's make one thing clear right now: neither the IWF/WOW nor its advertisers condone the use of illegal narcotic substances under any circumstances. Using drugs to enhance athletic performance not only undermines the purity of the profession, but it severely endangers the long-term health of those who intake them. Bottom line: Drugs are bad, _period_. Jack Anderson: Way to indemnify us from lawsuits, Jim. Jim Robson: Just doing my job... Jack Anderson: Let me tell you something, Jim. This match is going to be _awesome_! We've got three utterly ruthless and uncaring personalities in there who simply hate each others' guts. Throw in a ladder and barbed wire and you've got all the makings of classic extreme wrestling! Jim Robson: That is true, Jack. All three of these individuals have displayed incredibly callous disregard of their own safety in the past. Everyone in there knows what's riding on it. Not just a shot at the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Championship, not just Commissioner Tendency's job, not just Maverick's pride, but their very careers are on the line in this extremely dangerous environment tonight. *** DING DING DING *** Jim Robson: The bell's gone and we're underway. Parents, get your children out of the room for this one. Heck, if you've got anything less than a cast-iron stomach, you may want to remove yourselves from the room while you're at it. [Strangely enough, no one goes for the jugular right off the bat. Instead, all three men approach the center of the ring and get face-to-face in a three-way staredown that starts the crowd buzzing and illicits a sea of camera flashes. The tension is so thick that a knife just won't do the job; you'd need a damn chainsaw to cut it.] Jack Anderson: Who's gonna blink first here? More importantly, how's the commish gonna stand up to these two titans? Seeing these three guys standing together really illustrates the tremendous size differential. He's really going to have to pull a rabbit out of his hat tonight. [Maverick takes the first shot and levels Suidical Tendency with a big right hand that sends him reeling. St. Clair immediately seizes the distraction and floors Maverick with a spear.] Jim Robson: Here we go! Shane St. Clair is pounding away on Maverick with those piston-like punches. Maverick slips St. Clair's guard and turns him over....Maverick now pummeling away...here comes Suicidal Tendency...RUNNING DROPKICK NAILS MAVERICK RIGHT IN THE FACE!! Jack Anderson: That's exactly what the commish is going to have to do...let the two big men go at it and pick his spots to strike. Jim Robson: Well, I don't necessarily know if that's his game plan. Suicidal Tendency has shown many times in the past that he truly knows no fear and will destroy his own body just to hurt others. And I may be crazy, but sometimes he seems to enjoy doing it too. Jack Anderson: Well, if that's the case, he's going to be one happy man tonight. Jim Robson: Here comes St. Clair...he hooks Suicidal Tendency from behind...and NAILS him with a full nelson slam! Maverick's up now...and St. Clair catches him with a boot to the gut...DDT! St. Clair _planted_ Maverick with that one! Now St. Clair sees both men down on the mat...and he's headed outside for the ladder! Jack Anderson: Oh man, I've been waiting for this all night. Get ready for things to get a bit more brutal! Jim Robson: Maverick's outside the ring now...St. Clair sees him and charges with the ladder...but Maverick dodges! St. Clair was going to use that ladder like a battering ram, but luckily for Maverick, he saw it coming. Maverick grabs the other end of the ladder, but St. Clair won't let go of his end. It's a tug-of-war between two giant men. Now Suicidal Tendency...OH MY GOD!!! [*SMACK*] [POP!!!] [As Maverick and St. Clair fight over the ladder, Suicidal Tendency charges from inside the ring and flies over the top rope with a somersault plancha dive that lands perfectly on the ladder. St. Clair and Maverick were both on the opposite side of the ladder, and get flattened onto the floor with the force of a runaway. Meanwhile, Suicidal Tendency's momentum caused him to roll with the impact. He gets to his feet clutching at his back, but acknowledges the roar of the crowd.] Crowd: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! Jack Anderson: Can you believe that, Jim? I guess you were right; this guy really will do anything to hurt someone else! Jim Robson: But Suicidal Tendency's not done yet. He's putting the boots to Maverick's leg...that's the bad one that got dinged up a few weeks ago. St. Clair staggers to his feet and Suicidal Tendency heads towards him...RAMS HIS ARM INTO THE RINGPOST!!! Jack Anderson: Suicidal Tendency's done his homework! Justin Arcola beat the crap out of that arm last week on Mayhem and now the commish is working it over tonight. He's using his relative health to his advantage and attacking his opponents' injured body parts. Jim Robson: And you can see by his eyes that he's pretty damn serious about it! Maverick's up now, and Suicidal Tendency charges...Maverick catches him and rams him into the steps! Jack Anderson: Oh man, Maverick looks pissed! Jim Robson: That doesn't bode too well for his opponents...Maverick's got the ladder up; he turns towards St. Clair...MAVERICK RAMS THE TOP OF THE LADDER INTO ST. CLAIR'S FACE!!! [Oh yeah, you know it was stiff. A replay shows St. Clair's head absolutely *snap* back and smack into the floor as the the ladder makes contact, just as Shane was up to his knees.] Jim Robson: Maverick isn't doing this half-assed...he turns to Suicidal Tendency now, RAMS THE LADDER INTO ST'S MIDSECTION! Now what's he doing? He hoists the ladder horizontally above his head...and BRINGS IT DOWN ON ST'S BACK!!! Jack Anderson: Wow, that was almost...WAIT A MINUTE! Look at St. Clair! [Shane comes into the frame of the shot for only a split second, as he spears Maverick from behind with vicious force. The camera spins around to find St. Clair on top of Maverick, clawing at his face with one hand and hammering at his midsection with the other. The camera catches his face to see that his eyes have taken a clear shade of red as only being blood-shot can do.] Jack Anderson: Umm... I think those new supplements may be starting to take effect. Jim Robson: That's putting it lightly, Jack! St. Clair has become a complete and utter animal. I'm not joking around here, folks. His teeth are clenched and you can literally _see_ the veins beginning to pop out of his arms. Oh man, if we thought the Headliner was dangerous before, this is really going to put him over the edge. Jack Anderson: Watch out for Suicidal Tendency! *CRACK* [Another huge pop as ST positions the ladder near St. Clair who, in a blind rage, doesn't even notice it. ST plants one end of the ladder down on the ground and leaps over the security railing, pulling the other end down with him. As we all learned in physics class, the effect is a see-saw that delivers the ladder right into St. Clair's face with incredible velocity. St. Clair is temporarily knocked for a loop.] Jack Anderson: You think he learned that in Japan, Jim? Jim Robson: Suicidal Tendency is world-renowned for his aerial and hardcore offense. A lot of it comes direct from the Land of the Rising Sun. You can bet he'll find other ways to use that ladder just as...creatively. [ST soccer kicks Maverick's leg out from under him as he's standing up. He tosses Maverick back into the ring, then goes to get the ladder. He props the ladder up in front of himself and takes it toward the ring as Maverick is getting up. Big mistake...] *CRACK* Jim Robson: BASEBALL SLIDE KNOCKS THE LADDER RIGHT BACK INTO COMMISSIONER TENDENCY'S STERNUM!!! Jack Anderson: Oh man, come on, ST. You never turn your back on an angry 350-pounder. But Maverick dinged his leg again with that move and he can't capitalize. Jim Robson: Maverick's doing his best to bring that ladder into the ring...it may be time to go for the barbed wire. Suicidal Tendency slowly making his way into the ring as Shane St. Clair is still shaking off the effects of that big time ladder shot. Maverick's scaling the ladder one step at a time, but it looks like Suicidal Tendency's going to cut him off. Suicidal Tendency...DROPKICKS THE LADDER! ...oh no...no! NO!!! [The ladder begins to teeter from ST's dropkick. Maverick's eyes widen and his jaw drops as he begins the descent downward. In a moment that seems to last forever, but is in reality only a few seconds, Maverick leaps clear of the ladder but finds himself sailing over the top rope. He clips Shane St. Clair with his leg on the way down, but it doesn't even come close to breaking his fall. Maverick's 350 pounds make a sickening smack the floor and the crowd goes wild.] Crowd: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!! Jim Robson: OH MY GOD! MY GOD!!! MAVERICK JUST TOOK A TWENTY-FOOT FALL ONTO CONCRETE!!! Someone get some help out here; Maverick may have a broken spine! Jack Anderson: They're not gonna get the chance, Jim! St. Clair's already on top of Maverick, ripping at his face like he's trying to tear it off! The doctor wasn't kidding when he said that Androcomite would have side effects! Oh man...take a look at Maverick; Shane's ripped his forehead open. [A close-up shows a cut that almost looks like a knife slash, about two inches long and a half-inch wide. Shane's clawing and biting isn't helping matters any, but good luck getting him to stop. We can definitely see his roid rage in its full glory here; Shane might as well just be a carnivorous animal with the way he's attacking Maverick.] Jack Anderson: Shane...SHANE! Pull yourself together, man. The commish has the ladder set up and he's going for the barbed wire! Jim Robson: Maverick's either lost conciousness or is playing dead, one or the other. But Shane is now looking towards the ring, and he darts in as he sees Suicidal Tendency getting a good grip on the barbed wire...damn, that's gotta hurt...Shane now...HE TIPS THE LADDER...BUT SUICIDAL TENDENCY HANGS ON!!! GOOD GOD, THAT BARBED WIRE IS RIPPING INTO HIS FLESH!!! [Oh yeah, ST truly is insane. He refuses to let go of the coiled wire hanging from the cable, but the wire isn't as obliging. It tears at ST's hands before it finally gives way, sending him plumetting straight south.] Jack Anderson: Is that idiot nuts? Why the hell didn't he let go? Jim Robson: Shane St. Clair now...he mounts Suicidal Tendency and hammers away...I don't even think Shane realizes the barbed wire is on the mat...OH MAN!!! Suicidal Tendency just hit Shane in the face...that fist was wrapped in barbed wire!!! Somehow Suicidal Tendency had the presence of mind to fire back with that lethal weapon. Jack Anderson: I don't know if he put it around his arm or it just happened to land there when he hit the mat. Jim Robson: Now St. Clair pulls himself up by the ropes...here comes Suicidal Tendency...SWEET JESUS!!! Suicidal Tendency clotheslined Shane with that barbed wire arm...Shane did a 360 over the ropes to the outside. Jack Anderson: Holy crap! I can't believe what we're seeing! How sick and sadistic must the commissioner be to do this to other people?!? Jim Robson: Hey, remember one thing. It's his job on the line. If he gets pinned in this match, then he's done as commissioner. Back to the action now...Suicidal Tendency is _finally_ unwrapping the barbed wire from his arm, and his arm is ripped open and bleeding, but he's not dropping the wire! What's he going to do? He's coming towards the downed St. Clair... [POP!] Jim Robson: The commissioner is WHIPPING the Headliner with the barbed wire! God damn it! Someone's got to put a stop to this! He's going right for that injured bicep again, the same target he's had all night long! You can hear St. Clair bellowing like a beast! Jack Anderson: Look out! In the aisle!!! [The camera suddenly catches Maverick in one of his bull charges. He's got the ladder from the ring and he's headed full speed for Suicidal Tendency, who doesn't even see him coming. The ladder makes a sickening crack on Suicidal Tendency's spine as Maverick plows through him like a freight train.] Jim Robson: Suicidal Tendency is down and out for the moment...and Shane St. Clair seems to have regained his composure. How long it will last is anyone's guess. What's Maverick doing now? He's saying something to Shane and pointing at Suicidal Tendency. And Shane...is nodding in agreement?!? What have they got planned? Jack Anderson: I don't know, but it looks like they want to take out the commissioner and then just have the match to themselves. Jim Robson: Shane St. Clair hops over the security railing and starts making his way into the crowd. Maverick's setting up the ladder in the aisle. What in the world are we going to see here? Jack Anderson: Umm...Jim...I think I may have an idea what's going on...I just don't want to be thinking it. Jim Robson: You don't think he's gonna... Jack Anderson: The mindset the Headliner's in right now? I think he just might... Jim Robson: Let's just pray that's not the case. We won't even mention it, let's just hope they're not that sadistic. Maverick's dragging Suicidal Tendency over towards the ladder...picks him up and props him on a high rung...I don't like this, not at all...Maverick now climbing the opposite side of the ladder...he's slowly making his way to the top...he reaches over and grabs Suicidal Tendency under the arms...pulling him up higher and higher...Suicidal Tendency's still dazed... Jack Anderson: I've got a very VERY bad feeling about this, Jim. [The crowd starts to come alive as they seem to pick up on what's going on as well. Suddenly, the camera catches a shot that confrims everyone's suspicions.] Jim Robson: Oh man, it is! Shane St. Clair is stepping over the stairwell by the entrance. He's on top of the damn Giga-Tron! That's gotta be 50 feet in the air!!! Jack Anderson: He won't do it again! Don't do it, Shane! It nearly killed you the first time! Jim Robson: Fans, if you're any bit squeamish, please turn away now! Maverick is just now sitting Suicidal Tendency on top of the ladder...he's standing right behind him, three rungs down! Maverick makes eye contact with Spades...He's yelling at him to wait...AND SHANE SHAKES HIS HEAD, "NO"!!! Jack Anderson: He's gonna take them both out at once! NO, SHANE!!! IT ISN'T WORTH IT! DON'T DO IT!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE!!! [Shane flies and a hush seems to immediately cover the entire arena. There are scattered flashbulbs, but the majority of the people are too in awe to take pictures...time seems to slow to a crawl as we know what is coming, but we still can't believe it... SPEAR . . . . . PLUMMET . . . . . *** CRASH *** . . . . . Stunned silence. A pin drop can be heard for what seems like minutes, but is really just a split second, followed by... [ROOF SHAKING OVATION!!!] Jim Robson: DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN!!! SHANE DID IT! HE LEAPED OFF THE GIGA-TRON, SPEARED SUICIDAL TENDENCY OFF THE LADDER AND TOOK OUT MAVERICK WITH HIM!!! THEY'RE ALL DOWN!!! NO ONE IS MOVING!!! Jack Anderson: Get help out here! Right now, dammit!!! Jim Robson: I can't believe what we've seen here tonight! Shane used that same move against Johnny Spades at WrestleFest and it ended up putting him in traction! Jack Anderson: Some people live and learn. Right now, I'm convinced that Shane St. Clair just lives. Why would we do that to himself again? Jim Robson: I have no idea, but here come the EMTs as we speak. Folks, we apologize for this, in all sincerity. Jack Anderson: Apologize? What the hell for? That was the damndest thing I myself have ever seen! Jim Robson: Well...yeah. Sure, Jack. But this isn't wrestling. The IWF/WOW does not, I repeat, DOES NOT condone its athletes taking chances like that...in or out of the ring. Stunts like that, no matter how many rating they draw...we can't in good conscience use them to promote our product. It's just not right. [The EMTs and the referee attend to the downed wrestlers. Right now, it looks like ST got the worst of it, as not only did he fall, but he got sandwiched between over 600 pounds of beef when they all hit. Maverick tried to jump clear at the last minute and it probably saved his life, as he escaped having the ladder land on him. Shane St. Clair is...no way!] Jack Anderson: OH MY GOD! YOU'RE KIDDING ME!!! Jim Robson: We've got movement! SHANE ST. CLAIR IS MOVING!!! HE'S GETTING UP!!! Jack Anderson: What in the hell is in that damn Androcomite?!? I can't believe anyone is moving at all, let alone the man who fell the furthest distance by far! Jim Robson: Shane is up to his feet! Folks, this is unparalleled! I have no idea what he's running on; we don't want to say it's the Androcomite because that's paramount to endorsing its use. He's taking a second to get all his faculties about him. Jack Anderson: Well, what happens now? Does he win by default? The commissioner might be dead and Maverick is just now showing signs of life. Jim Robson: I don't know, but he's...no! He's headed toward Maverick! This match isn't over yet! Referee Geoff Cartwright is pleading with him to stop this onslaught, and I think I have to agree with him, but Shane is in a whole other world at this point. Shane is dragging Maverick back towards the ring! Jack Anderson: Please, Shane. Please end it quickly. Don't prolong the agony any longer. Jim Robson: I have to question Geoff Cartwright's decision here. I doubt Shane's done punishing Maverick quite yet. Shane rolls Maverick into the ring under the bottom rope...and he's hunting around ringside for something! You see this? Maverick's out on his feet, Shane! Please just pin him now! Jack Anderson: Oh God no! He's picking up a piece of that barbed wire! Jim Robson: He's wrapping it around his own arm! I think I know what's coming up, and it's going to be an exclamation point! Shane rolls into the ring...Good God, his face is a mess! He's coming up behind Maverick...SWEET RELEASE!!! Shane St. Clair has the Cobra Clutch on Maverick, grinding in with that goddamn barbed wire!!! Maverick...he taps out! He couldn't take any more! ***DING DING DING*** [The crowd erupts with approval at the awesome display that they've just witnessed.] FRANCINE: Here is your winner, "The Headliner", Shane St. Clair!!! -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- WINNER: Shane St. Clair -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- Jim Robson: And St. Clair wins the Stairway to Hell! But he's not letting go of the Sweet Release! Let go of the hold, dammit, before you cut open Maverick's throat! Jack Anderson: I don't know if he could understand you even if he did hear you, Jim! There's something in those damn chemicals that have taken away whatever sanity he had left! Jim Robson: Now...finally! Shane lets go of the Cobra Clutch! But the damage has been done. Shane St. Clair has picked up a huge win here tonight, and has made a beleiver out of this announcer that he's ready to move up to the next step in his career. Jack Anderson: And he will get that shot. Thanks to his win here tonight, he has earned a shot at the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion, whomever that will be after End of the World 5 here tonight. But, you know, it makes me wonder, though. After this incredible display, how are Billy Rock and Justin Arcola going to top it in the War For Territory? Jim Robson: It's going to be quite the task, I'm sure. But if anyone's up to the task, it's those two magnificent athletes. ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= END OF THE WORLD 5 CONTINUES IN PART 7!!! [The screen fades back in to a view of the screaming crowd, which has gotten more frantic with the knowledge that the War for Territory match is upon them. The camera pans around, catching several fan-held signs that relate to the matchup. The majority of them support Billy Rock, which is to be expected, but there are obviously a number of Justin Arcola fans as well, and there are several signs simply relating to the match. There's an obvious sense of tension and impatience from the crowd, which is beginning to chant for the matchup.] [The camera switches to a view of Jim Robson and Jack Anderson sitting at their desk. Robson has a somewhat somber look on his face, while Anderson looks excited. Robson pauses briefly and begins speaking, over the din of the crowd.] Jim Robson: I, for one, am lost for words as to what to say about the following matchup. I truthfully don't think there's anything I COULD say that would serve to accentuate the hostility between these two men and the nature of the match they're competing in tonight. [As Robson continues speaking, the camera switches to a silent montage of a few of the more vicious spots that have already occured in the Rock/Arcola feud, some of them the same as the ones that were shown on the preview show. The Last Man Standing Match, The First Blood Cage Match, The Five Way Match, and finally, a few from the Hell in a Cell cage match, ending with a shot of Rock chokeslamming Arcola through the top of the cage.] These images should speak well enough for you. It just scares me to think that this match will likely easily eclipse all of what you have just seen in terms of brutality and sheer intensity. I say, with no condescension, that any parents should consider putting their kids to bed as of this moment. This isn't something that they need to see. These two men have been at each other's throats since Rock first appeared, and everything that has transpired between them hasn't seemed to take even the slightest edge off the hatred that just flows between them. I personally have had a hard time watching their matches. And it all comes down to this. In any other circumstance, the focus would be on the Intercontinental Title. But, tonight, that will be almost an afterthought, the small print of the match. The second most revered belt in this federation holds nothing compared to the sheer will of these two men to batter each other into nothignness. Jack Anderson: Ordinarly, I'd have something sarcastic to say in response to that melodramatic monologue, but I couldn't have said it better myself. Say what you will about either of these guys, and I've said plenty about Rock. But you can't look at what has already happened between them, and what they are agreeing to do tonight with an objective viewpoint and NOT feel a sense of respect. I'm sure there are viewers tonight who didn't see the original War For Territory match. Trust me when I say it was one of the most brutal encounters I've ever seen, and that's saying something. But, I think Rock said it best when he said that first match will just be something people use to help them FORGET about this one. The rules of this match aren't that complicated: anything goes, falls count anywhere, best 2 of 3 falls, with one fall needing to occur in the ring and the other outside of the ring. They don't begin to explain the drama surrounding this matchup. It's what these men are willing to do to each other and to themselves to earn that "w" that will make it that awesome, in my opinion. Jim Robson: What exactly is that table doing in the aisle? The one with two buckets with lids on top of it? Jack Anderson: Beats me, maybe it's lemonade for if Rock and Arcola get thirsty during the match? Jim Robson: Something tells me that's probably not it. I'm sure we'll find out before too long. Jack Anderson: That's for sure. Jim Robson: You can practically cut the tension in here with a knife. I'll do my best to stay calm during this match, but no promises. I think Francine is ready to get this one underway. Let's go to her now! _______ ______ | ____\ \ / / ___| -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- | _| \ \ /\ / /|___ \ WAR FOR TERRITORY II! INTERCONTINENTAL TITLE MATCH! | |___ \ V V / ___) | Billy Rock vs Justin Arcola |_____| \_/\_/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- --------------------------> WRITER: Matt Weeks <-------------------------- [Scene cuts to an image of the lovely Francine standing in the ring, and she is displayed on the jumbo-tron as well. The crowd pops huge, partly for her, and partly for the approaching match.] FRANCINE: The following matchup is a WAR FOR TERRITORY MATCH. [The crowd goes absolutely NUTS at this, practically drowning her out.] The rules are as follows: No Disqualifications, no Count-outs. Falls count ANYWHERE in the known galaxy. The match will be best two of three falls. One of those falls must be won inside the ring, and the other must be won outside the ring. Also, this is an INTERCONTINENTAL TITLE match. [Crowd continues popping huge, increasing the volume at that final comment] FRANCINE: Introducing first, the challenger... ["Ride of the Valkyries" by Wagner begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd cheers.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Rochester, NY, standing 6 feet 3 inches and weighing 252 pounds, here is ... JUSTIN ARCOLA!!!!! [Justin Arcola steps out from behind the curtain and pauses at the entranceway, raising a clenched fist high above his head. He is clad in simple loose-fitting blue jeans held up by a leather belt and black combat boots. He has an old scar just right of center on his chest. He waits for the brass section of the orchestra to kick in and begins a slow and methodical march to the ring, occasionally glancing left or right to flash a quick smile to a fan. He slides into the ring under the bottom rope and stands on the second turnbuckle, raising his arms above his head and taking in the applause of the crowd.] Jim Robson: Justin Arcola getting a pretty nice reaction from the fans here, surprisingly. Jack Anderson: I'm sure that's simply out of respect, something he definetly deserves. [Arcola enters the ring with a deadly serious, cold look on his face, and begins limbering up and pacing the ring back and forth like a caged animal simultaneously. His gace never leaves the entranceway, which he stares at with a determination that is near scary.] Jim Robson: Here we go... FRANCINE: And his opponent...THE IWF/WOW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION... [The crowd FLIPS. The resulting roar thunders and vibrates throughout the arena as just about every fan in the arena goes to their feet.] ["WHATEVER IT TAKES" by P.O.D is spit through the loudspeakers. A throbbing roar culminates from the fans ... ] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Little Rock, Arkansas, standing 6 feet 4 inches and weighing 244 pounds, here is ... THE "SERIAL THRILLER" BILLY ROCK!!!!! [A silhouette confirming the ring announcers description fills the mouth of the aisle. The figure remains idle with his entire body cocked nearly sideways. His head remains bowed in the shroud of darkness even as the blend of icy blue and orange spotlights tint his burly, carved physique. Then, in unision with the first string of lyrics, the "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock snaps his head backward, whipping the damp, caramel shaded hair from his face. He ominously twists his neck, turning his face toward the aisle, his lips smudged with a grim curl. Dark blonde fur circles his mouth and traces his jaw bone from ear to ear. He calmly drops one foot in front and visually interrogates his surroundings, then walks the aisle. Billy's chest heaves menacingly as the camera spirals around him. His hands are taped heavily from knuckles to forearm. The light bounces off the gleaming material of his black, thigh length tights. The front of these tights display a confederate flag emblem, sans the orange background. Like you might find on a pair of mudflaps, both outer thighs show the orange shadow of a curvy nude woman wearing a cowboy hat, sitting with her knees bent upward, and arms extended behind her for support, laced in blue. The rear of his tights show a larger replica of the front. Billy wears black knee-pads, and just below these, a pair of white and black cowboy boots ... ] [Upon reaching the ring, Billy perches himself on the apron, and just as the impact of his music erupts, so does he, rising and thrusting his arms over his head in a spectacular moment that also sees a compound of blue and orange columns of fire sprout from each of the four posts. The Serial Thriller climbs through the ropes and awaits the bell ... ] [Before reaching the ring, Rock stops casually at the table with the two buckets. He calmly removes the lids, and dips both of his fists, which are heavily taped, into the first bucket. He slowly pulls them out, and a creamy liquid is seen dripping off of them. He then dips them into the second of the two buckets as the camera pans in to a closer view.] [Shards of broken glass are seen in the second of the two buckets, and these shards now likewise adorn Billy's hands. The first liquid, upon closer inspection, is obviously glue. Billy's hands are completely covered in razor sharp shards of glass which stick to his hands courtesy of the glue. The fans pop huge at seeing this on the jumbo-tron] Jim Robson: Oh my...the match hasn't even begun yet and I'm already getting queasy.... Jack Anderson: Can he DO that? I don't care if this IS a no rules matchup, there has to an exception for that kind of thing! Jim Robson: Well, ref Miguel Hernandez isn't doing anything about it! Ladies and gentlemen, you're already seeing everything we said was anything but an exaggeration. [Rock reaches the ring, stepping between the second and third ropes] Jim Robson: His shoulder is taped, that could be bad news for the champion. Arcola has been attacking that area of his body agressively in almost all of their encounters to date, and it's obviously taken its toll. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to guess where much of Arcola's offense in this match is going to be targeted. Jack Anderson: Yeah, but think about it. Arcola has taken just as much punishment in their previous encounters as Rock has. Eventually, that's going to take its toll. I can't possibly see how either of these men could be at a hundred percent. But I'd think those shards of BROKEN GLASS now hanging off Rock's hands give him at least a temporary advantage. That has to psyche Arcola out at least a little. [Rock and Arcola stand in opposite corners of the ring, their gazes dead set on each other, neither man displaying any real emotion beyond hatred and utter determination. Now, there is no typical "warmup" moves or limbering up from either man, just a total lack of movement or expression. Rock clenches his "accessoried" fists together and opens them several times, still staring at his opponent.] Jack Anderson: Neither man is moving yet... [Arcola is seen rubbing the back of his neck and wincing slightly] Jack Anderson: What's that about? [There is still no movement from either man, but the roar from the fans has reached a peak.] Jim Robson: Well, it hasn't been as obvious as Arcola's shots on Rock's shoulder, but over the past several weeks, Rock has delivered a number of baseball bat shots to the back of Arcola's neck, that's what I would attribute it to. It's possible that it's begun to bother him. In any event, we'll see soon... DING! DING! DING! DING! Jim Robson: Here we go, folks... [The roar of the fans begins to quiet slightly as they wait the beginning of the match. Both men slowly push themselves out of their respective corners and begin circling each other.] Jack Anderson: Come on! Let's go! I can't take this anymore! Jim Robson: THEY CHARGE EACH OTHER SIMULTANEOUSLY! THIS ONE'S ON! [Arcola charges at Rock, who goes low and takes Arcola down with a spear. Before either man can get off a real blow, the two men roll around on the mat, throwing ineffective glancing shots at one another. Rock reaches around and rakes his glass-covered fists across Arcola's back, opening up several small but deep cuts.] Jack Anderson: There's juice ALREADY, and the introductions are barely over. If Rock uses those fists the way he can, this could be a long match for Justin Arcola. Jim Robson: Not as of yet...Arcola is getting the better of this exchange right now... [Arcola ends up on top, and manages to hold down Rock's glass covered fists with his knees as he begins savagely beating at Rock's face with a series of STIFF, closed fisted blows to the face, particularly the nose and lips. Rock winces at each of these, but then pushes upward in one powerful motion, throwing Arcola off of him.] Jim Robson: Rock with Arcola...HE TOSSES HIM BACKWARD INTO THE TURNBUCKLE! ARCOLA'S HEAD STRIKES THE BUCKLE! Rock rearing back now... *WHAM* [Rock slams his right hand into the side of Arcola's face] *WHAM* [Rock nails a left cross] ARCOLA IS DOWN AND BLEEDING! [As with the cuts on his back, Arcola gets a huge number of small but no doubt painful cuts] Jack Anderson: ROCK GRABS HIM BY THE THROAT AND PUSHES HIM BACK INTO THE CORNER! ROCK IS *GRINDING* THE KNUCKLES OF HIS RIGHT HAND INTO ARCOLA'S FOREHEAD! Jim Robson: Oh dear god... [Just as they described. Rock centers on one of the larger of the small cuts and grinds his glass covered knuckles directly into area, and only briefly into the match, Arcola's blood begins flowing heavily from that area, rushing down above his eyebrows.] Jim Robson: This is already insane...ARCOLA STOPS IT WITH A SWIFT KICK TO THE GROIN! Rock is down! Arcola from the buckle...he runs...HE FIELD GOAL KICKS ROCK RIGHT IN THE SIDE OF THE HEAD! Rock rolls across the ring, god the impact there was BRUTAL. Jack Anderson: Did you expect anything less from these two? [Arcola reaches up and wipes a mixture of blood, glue and a few of the microscopic glass shards off his forehead with his shirt and hand, then advances on Rock again.] Jim Robson: Arcola with another kick to the side of the downed Rock's head! Arcola now...HE STOMPS STRAIGHT DOWN ON ROCK'S FACE! AND AGAIN, AND AGAIN! [These aren't the normal half assed stomps used in wrestling, rather they're full force and straight down, as Arcola puts his full power into it. Rock's nose and lips, already tender from Arcola's earlier punches, between to bleed slightly.] Jack Anderson: That's both of them now! Ladies and gentlemen, you're going to be seeing a lot more red in this match than any other color! Jim Robson: They certainly haven't wasted any time! ROCK GRABS ARCOLA'S LEG AND PULLS IT OUT FROM UNDER HIM TO CEASE THE ASSAULT! ARCOLA FALLS _STRAIGHT_ BACKWARD! [Arcola wasn't expecting this, and didn't have time to break his fall, and takes it full on the back of his head. He clutches the back of his head and rolls away from Rock, who pushes himself to his feet, leaving bits of glass, glue, and Arcola's blood on the mat.] Jack Anderson: Rock from behind...HE STOMPS DOWN ON THE BACK OF ARCOLA'S NECK...AND AGAIN, AND AGAIN. Rock drops a knee on the back of Arcola's neck, and again. Now...Rock with a series of stiff blows with those deadly hands to the back of Arcola's neck. [The glass does its usual damage, but the obvious point of this attack was the impact of the blows, and not the slicing made possible by the tiny razors that adorn Rock's fists.] Jack Anderson: Rock going right after the back of Arcola's neck! If what you said was true, then Arcola definetly has to be feeling those blows a lot more than he'd like to. Jim Robson: He certainly seems to be...his face in etched in pain and he's having trouble getting to his feet...Rock pulling Arcola to his feet...he delivers two quick shots to the face, pushing Arcola back into the buckle and opening him up further...HE'S GRINDING HIS KNUCKLES INTO ARCOLA'S FOREHEAD ONCE AGAIN. More blood flows, as to be expected...it's beginning to drip down over Arcola's eyes, that's going to obscure his vision. Rock now...HE KNEES ARCOLA IN THE RIBS. Rock spins him around....OH MY! [Rock nails his patented 180 degree Neckbreaker out of the corner, lifting Arcola into the air, spinning both of them and then landing in an exceptionally stiff crash on the mat. Arcola's head snaps back and he lays on his back, twitching. The crowd pops huge.] Jim Robson: ROCK COVERS! 1..... . . . . . 2..... . . . . . KICK OUT!!! I don't care how devastating that move was, there's no way Arcola is going to surrender a fall this early, but it's definetly going to further injure his neck! Jack Anderson: Rock is over in the corner now....he's pulling the padding off of the turnbuckle, I'm sure we know what this is going to lead to... Jim Robson: Rock pulls Arcola to his feet...WHIP TO THE BUCKLE.... ARCOLA REVERSES! [Rock hits the buckle hard, face first, and an instant replay sees blood damn near FLY off his nose as it seemingly bends to the side, obviously broken.] Jim Robson: Arcola to his feet from behind, he's got Rock by the back of the head... *CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK* [Arcola slams Rock face first into the buckle five successive times, increasing the force each time. More blood flies from Rock's face, coating the uncovered metal buckle. Unbelievable amounts of blood flow from Rock's destroyed nose as the crowd goes nuts.] Jim Robson: Oh my god...I'm just in shock...I was expecting this kind of thing to happen, but maybe I just assumed they'd be saving it for the final or at least the second fall...this is way too early to be doing stuff this brutal, especially considering it's no doubt to get worse from here. Arcola grabbing Rock from behind... GERMAN SUPLEX! _BRUTAL_ IMPACT! [As what has become par for the course for Arcola's suplexes, he executes it perfectly, allowing Rock to drop at an akward angle on the side of his head and his injured shoulder, but in this instance Arcola hangs on, not releasing Rock before impact. He pulls Rock back to his feet, still holding the German Suplex position.] Jim Robson: ANOTHER GERMAN SUPLE....OH MY _GOD_! [Arcola delivers the move so Rock's head cracks on the uncovered metal buckle on the way down. Arcola releases afterward, and Rock ends up in a heap under the bottom rope, blood flowing from the back of his head. The crowd lets out a shocked gasp/pop] Jack Anderson: That HAS to be a concussion. Arcola pulling Rock to the center of the ring...the cover...I think we have fall one here folks... 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . Th...KICK OUT!!! DAMN!!! Jim Robson: I'm amazed he's even conscious from that shot! Arcola pulls Rock back to his feet...he's setting him up for another suplex...he hooks him in a full nelson position....DRAGON SUPLEX!!! [This time, Arcola does release, and early, as he damn near TOSSES Rock backwards using all of his strength. Rock lands stomach first across the top rope, barely balancing, all of the wind knocked out of him. His face drips blood down onto the mat, which is now marred with several smears of crimson, as well as the occasional dab of glue which glitters with the shine of the tiny glass shards.] Jim Robson: ARCOLA LEAPS... HE BRINGS HIS LEG DOWN ACROSS THE BACK OF ROCK'S HEAD! [Rock flips over the top rope back into the ring and lands on his back, looking up stunned towards the sky as Arcola is on him immediately] Jack Anderson: Excellent combination there by Arcola! You know, if it wasn't for their outfits, I don't think we'd be able to tell them apart in this matchup judging by the amount of blood that's covering their faces already! Jim Robson: Arcola on Rock...HE'S HAMMERING AWAY AT ROCK'S SHOULDER WITH STIFF BLOWS....Wait...he's grabbing the edge of that tape that surrounds Rock's shoulder...he unwinds it...he's pulling the tape off of Rock's shoulder! He stands and grabs Rock's arm...he drags him to the center of the ring...ARCOLA DROPS A LEG ACROSS ROCK'S SHOULDER AND HOLDS ON THE ARM...Arcola leans backwards on the outstretched arm, ripping and tearing, putting all that pressure on the shoulder...Rock is screaming, but is emphatically shaking his head no when asked to submit. Jack Anderson: Both of these men have injured body parts going into this match, but the man who attacks the other's more voraciously could be the difference in this match.... Jim Robson: Arcola rolls Rock onto his stomach...he leaps in the air...HE DRIVES HIS KNEE DOWN INTO ROCK'S SHOULDER, AND AGAIN...Rock is visibly wincing. Arcola pulls Rock to his feet, he drags him over to the exposed turnbuckle and pulls his arm back...HE RAMS HIM INTO THE BUCKLE SHOULDER FIRST...TWICE, THREE, FOUR TIMES. Arcola with a boot to the gut, he hooks the arm...SINGLE ARM DDT, HE DROPS HIS FULL WEIGHT ON ROCK'S SHOULDER. ARCOLA COVERS.... 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . . KICK OUT!!! Rock is visibly grabbing at his shoulder now, this attack is obviously taking a pretty severe effect on an already injured Rock. Jack Anderson: Arcola's gameplan didn't just start at the beginning of this match, he's been anticipating it for some time and that's allowed him to take the advantage at this point. Jim Robson: That's pretty obvious...Arcola lifts up Rock over his shoulder....RUNNING SHOULDER BREAKER BY ARCOLA, ANOTHER COVER... 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . KICK OUT BY ROCK! [Rock lays on the mat, clutching at his shoulder and simultaneously wiping the blood away from his nose with his upper forearm, unable to use his hands for obvious reasons. Both men look a mess, even though the blood flow from both of their wounds has slowed just slightly, and is starting to dry.] Jim Robson: Arcola down to pick up Rock...ROCK GIVES HIM A SHOT IN THE THROAT WITH THAT GLASS COVERED RIGHT HAND! [Arcola falls to the mat, choking as he grabs at his throat. Rock stands, tests out his injured shoulder, and winces visibly. Rock then grabs Arcola by the hair.] Jack Anderson: Here we go again...ROCK SLAMS HIS FIST INTO ARCOLA'S...THROAT! GOD!! Jim Robson: Oh my God... [Rock delivers several more swift blows to Arcola's throat and neck area, which begins bleeding to match his face. Arcola falls to the ground under the force of the assualt, where Rock grabs his around the throat with both glass covered hands, and begins choking the life out of him, at the same time grinding the razor sharp shards into his neck.] Jack Anderson: He could very easily slice a major blood vessel here, this is extremely dangerous! Jim Robson: I think Arcola is more worried about the lack of air right now! Arcola pushing his hands up to try to get Rock off of him, as he is beginning to weaken from lack of air...he's turning a sickly shade of purple... [Rock finally "breaks" the hold by hauling Arcola roughly to his feet, still gripping him around the throat with both hands. He lifts him off his feet and hurls him backwards into the exposed turnbuckle with vicious force.] Rock lifts Arcola up onto the top turnbuckle, facing towards the audience....he climbs up after him....NO!!!! TOP ROPE BELLY TO BACK SUPLEX!!!! [Both men hit the mat with incredible impact, Arcola bouncing off the mat a good six inches before crashing back down. Rock takes a pretty rough landing himself, as he clutches at his shoulder immediately after falling, but he manages to grit through it enough to follow through] Jim Robson: Rock covers... 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . KICK OUT BY ARCOLA!!! Jack Anderson: Amazing move by Rock there...it's hard for me to believe that this match has still not even registered a first fall based on everything we've already seen...Rock looks like he's going outside... [He does just that, going outside and pulling a chair, none too gently, out from the bell keeper, and tosses it back into the ring, following it, as Arcola begins to shakily get to his feet.] Jim Robson: Rock has the chair just as Arcola gets up... *KERRRR-ACCCCCK* [Rock BENDS the chair in half over Arcola's head with a hellacious shot that reverberates around the arena to a huge fan gasp. Arcola falls to his knees at this, and Rock winds up.] *WWWWHHHHAMMMM* [Rock swings the chair like a baseball bat, crashing it into the side of Arcola's head, who jerks to the side unpleasantly and collapses, blood flying off of the opened wound on his head, a deep, ugly black color. Arcola collapses to the mat, staining it red almost immediately as the fans begin chanting Rock's name] Jim Robson: I've said it before and I'll say it again...I can't see how anyone can cheer this...you could kill someone doing that. Jack Anderson: It's the title, but more importantly, it's the pride. Neither of these men wants to have to live with knowing they lost this match. Rock rolls Arcola on his stomach...he's got that chair...he lifts it straight up vertically... HE DRIVES THE EDGE OF IT DOWN INTO THE BACK OF ARCOLA'S NECK...TWICE, THREE, FOUR TIMES. _THAT_ will leave you sore tomorrow morning, especially considering Arcola's already injured neck. Jim Robson: Rock slowly pulling the limp Arcola to his feet, he's setting him up for what looks to be the Cutting Edge...he goes to hook the arm... SMALL PACKAGE BY ARCOLA! 1.... . . . . . 2.... . . . . . TH...ROCK REVERSES IT INTO A SMALL PACKAGE OF HIS OWN!!! 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . KICK OUT BY ARCOLA!! Both men are to their feet quickly for being beaten so badly....ROCK WITH A QUICK SUNSET FLIP ON ARCOLA! 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . ARCOLA ROLLS SIDEWAYS AND PINS DOWN ROCK'S SHOULDERS.... 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . THR...ROCK FLIPS ARCOLA'S LEGS UP INTO A FORWARD BRIDGE!!! 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . . ARCOLA GETS HIS LEGS UP OVER ROCK'S SHOULDERS AND PINS HIM BACK DOWN!!! 1..... . . . . 2.... . . . . KICK OUT!!!! [The crowd pops huge for this exchange, which is done with amazing skill and fluidity, considering the pain the men are in] ROCK HITS A TACKLE INTO A SOMERSAULT, HOOKING THE LEGS!!! 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . ARCOLA BRIDGES UP...BACKSLIDE!!!! 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . KICK OUT BY ROCK!!!! [The crowd pops even bigger for the culmination of this amazing combination of moves as both men staggeringly get to their feet, winded by the exchange, both men leaning heavily on the top ropes as crimson drips from their facial features.] Jack Anderson: Wow...damn...I didn't expect to see much classic mat wrestling here tonight, but I guess they're showing us a bit of everything... Jim Robson: I don't expect that to last much longer....ROCK ON ARCOLA, WITH A GOUGING BLOW TO THE SIDE OF THE HEAD...yep, what I said. Arcola with a weak looking elbow to the gut, Rock now...IRSH WHIP INTO THE EXPOSED BUCKLE!! [Arcola hits hard yet again, clutching at his sternum, which is where he took the force of the blow.] ROCK WITH A SPLASH IN THE CORNER!!! ARCOLA MOVES!!!! ROCK HITS SHOULDER FIRST!!! [Arcola, evidently playing possum, moves at the last minute, and by a stroke of bad luck, Rock cracks his injured shoulder into the metal buckle. This was a particular devastating hit for him and he is seen nearly passing out from the pain as Arcola measures him up from behind] Jim Robson: ARCOLA GRABS ROCK FROM BEHIND AND TAKES HIM DOWN WITH A CRIPPLER CROSSFACE! HE EXECUTES IT PERFECTLY, HE'S RIPPING AT ROCK'S INJURED SHOULDER AND HIS NECK! Jack Anderson: Rock has the ropes out of instinct, but Arcola is not obligated to release the hold, there's no rules in this match. Jim Robson: Arcola has it sinched in viciously, I don't think Rock is going anywhere, he's just screaming in pain, and repeatedly refusing to submit, but this just has to be KILLING his shoulder. He doesn't even have the strength to try to push Arcola away with his other arm... [The image is almost surreal. Arcola, his face masked by crimson, but still displaying an almost horrifying look of hatred and determination, leaning back as he screams at Rock, whose face is a mask of pain as he drips blood onto the canvas, which no longer displays much white itself.] Jack Anderson: He can't possibly hold out much longer here...Arcola just keeps increasing the pressure, especially on his shoulder... Jim Robson: I don't even know how he's staying conscious, the pain must be overwhelming....wait....yes....ROCK HAS TAPPED OUT. DING! DING! DING! DING! FRANCINE: The winner of the first fall, as a result of submission, JUSTIN ARCOLA. (Mixed reaction, but mostly boos from the fans) As a result, Justin Arcola's next fall MUST occur outside of the ring. There will be a one-minute rest period for both men. Jim Robson: A thoroughly valiant effort by Rock, but he simply couldn't hold out any longer. It was probably the wise decision, as delaying it any longer would have caused more damage and could have hurt his chances in the next two falls. Jack Anderson: Yes, but now he has to win two in a row against a Justin Arcola who has been thoroughly vicious tonight. [If he was temporarily ignoring his many wounds, Arcola seems suddenly overwhelmed by them, and falls backwards by the bottom rope, breathing heavily and labored, reaching up again to wipe the blood from his face, but exceeds mostly in only smearing it. Rock, if possible, is even worse, still laying face down in the corner, blood flowing from his broken nose and head, with no real signs of movement.] Jim Robson: Their rest is almost over...I can't possibly see how these men can go on...this one fall was enough of a match for me. DING! DING! DING! DING! Jack Anderson: The second fall is underway...Arcola slowly pulling himself to his feet by the use of the top rope and leaning on it heavily, staring over at Billy Rock, who has just begun to stir painfully as he lays in a puddle of his own blood... Jim Robson: Touche, Jack. To win this match, Arcola would need to pin Rock outside...and it looks like he's going over to do just that...Arcola lifting the limp Billy Rock...Arcola hooking his head and arm...oh no, he wouldn't... ARCOLA NAILS A RELEASE T-BONE SUPLEX OVER THE TOP ROPE TO THE FLOOR! [The crowd gives a shocked gasp as Rock goes sailing over the rope and then a good ten feet down in an absolutely nasty bump, landing on the back of his neck and shoulders and then curling up on his back while Arcola grabs the chair that was in the ring.] Jim Robson: I don't even know what to say, that was just ugly.... Jack Anderson: The bad, or good, depending on your point of view is that it's far from over...Arcola has that chair in hand...HE TOSSES IT DOWN ONTO ROCK, IT CRACKS INTO HIS FACE. Arcola on the ring apron now.... ELBOW DROP DOWN ONTO THE CHAIR, CRUSHING IT DOWN ON ROCK'S FACE!! ARCOLA COVERS...THIS COULD BE THE MATCH RIGHT HERE... 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . 3!!!! NO!!! NO!!!!! ROCK KICKS OUT!!! I DON'T BELIEVE IT!!! [HUGE pop from the fans, as Arcola look sort of shocked as he commences to delivering another series of stiff punches to Rock's face. Arcola then pulls the near-destroyed looking Rock to his feet] Jim Robson: ARCOLA LIFTS ROCK...HOT SHOT ACROSS THE GUARD RAIL! Arcola pushing Rock's chin over the top of the railing and he's got that chair again...HE SWINGS THAT CHAIR AT THE TOP OF ROCK'S HEAD... ROCK MOVES!!! [Rock avoids what could have been disastrous, and the force of the blow actually causes the chair to fly back up into Arcola's face, who drops to his knees as Rock seems to get a shot of adrenaline somehow.] Jack Anderson: Where did he get that from...my god...ROCK HAS THE TOP LAYER OF RING STEPS.... *WWWHHAMMM* [Rock swings the steps like a golf club and nails Arcola under the chin, sending him flying backwards. Rock then lifts the steps back up and drives the edge of it several times into Arcola's face, then drops and covers.] 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . . KICK OUT!!! Jack Anderson: Like I said, I don't know where he's getting it, but wherever it's from, it's working! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= END OF THE WORLD 5 CONTINUES IN PART 8!!! Jim Robson: Rock pulls Arcola to his feet...he hooks the head... RUNNING BULLDOG BY ROCK ON ARCOLA ONTO THE STEEL RAMPWAY! [Another brutal bump as Arcola's face strikes the rampway with a sickening thud, and soon the flow of Arcola's blood begins traveling down the sloped ramp back towards the ring.] Jack Anderson: You know, I don't think I was fully prepared for exactly how dead set these two men are on simply ending each others careers...almost at the expense of their own it seems... Jim Robson: Yes, and I simply don't understand it. This ISN'T what this sport is about, not to me at least. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and mine is this is not worth it. Jack Anderson: Rock grabs Arcola by the leg and is dragging him further up the rampway, to about the midway point. Rock pulling him to his feet now...oh my god...no... JESUS.... [Rock returns the favor to Arcola by suplexing him off the ramp-way straight down to the uncovered concrete below. Arcola lands full on the back of his injured neck and back, and writhes around on the ground in agony as the crowd goes nuts yet again.] Jim Robson: CHRIST! What the hell is wrong with these people? The wrestlers, AND the fans? [The crowd starts in an I/W chant, likely for the match itself and not just this particular bump] Jack Anderson: ROCK LEAPS OFF THE RAMP DOWN ON ARCOLA WITH A LEG DROP!!! THE QUICK COVER... 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . 3....NO, ARCOLA KICKS OUT!!! MY _GOD_! Jim Robson: What a minute, who's that? [The crowd turns to see two figures coming down the aisle towards the action between Rock and Arcola. They are quickly identified as "Couch Potato" Carl Lumski and his girlfriend, Fleur Gardyn, both of which are carrying cardboard cutouts.] Jack Anderson: Oh come on now, this is just ridiculous. This match is too important and too intense for this abortion poster child to be screwing around with that? Can't he just stick to his own matches for a change? He has to be the single most annoying 'athelete' in the history of this sport. Jim Robson: Even I have to question his presence here... [Rock, who had been commencing to slicing at Arcola's face and chest with the glass on his hands yet again, looks up to see Lumski, and stops for a minute.] Jack Anderson: What the hell is that they're carrying? Jim Robson: Well...that appears to be cardboard cutouts of Luke and Laura Spencer from General Hospital. There's certainly big smiles on both of their faces. [Arcola, with the help of the railing, pulls himself shakily to his feet. The little skin on his face not covered by blood is beginning to drain of color, and he looks sickly on the whole. But, with a sudden surge of energy, he charges Rock from behind.] Jim Robson: ARCOLA WITH A CLOTHESLINE FROM BEHIND... *CRACK* _MY GOD_! [Rock's head strikes the edge of the rampway on the way down in a major display of bad luck] Jack Anderson: Wait a minute, what are these two busted rubber incidents DOING? [Gardyn and Lumski both approach Arcola from behind. Lumski approaches Arcola as Gardyn sneaks up from behind] Jim Robson: Arcola turns around... *WHACK* [In a sort of bastardized version of Christian and Edge's Con-Chair-To, the couple smacks Arcola's head between the two cutouts. Arcola falls backward, more out of surprise than pain.] Jim Robson: Both of them run at him... DOUBLE DROPKICK! [Arcola falls backwards as the fans give a combination pop/amused laugh reaction] Jack Anderson: Oh, come on now, was that really necessary? Lumski is the biggest joke in this federation, I swear. And that's saying something. It's bad enough he even exists, but is it necessary he screw up matches like this featuring REAL talent? Jim Robson: It looks like they're leaving, albeit with smiles on their faces...no...it seems they're just waiting in the back a bit...I guess they're here to prevent interference... Jack Anderson: ::sarcastically:: A fine job they've done thus far. Jim Robson: Wait...ROCK FROM BEHIND! [Rock tackles Arcola from behind, then grabs him by the head and slams him face first into the edge of the ramp several times before rolling him up onto it. Rock follows him up on the ramp.] Jim Robson: Rock pulling Arcola to his feet...he lifts him over his shoulder and sets him up.... NO!!! REVERSE PILEDRIVER ON THE RAMPWAY!!! [Arcola lands at a sickening angle, further opening the wound in his head and then crumbles up and sort of half-rolls down the ramp the rest of the way, followed by a determined but pained Billy Rock.] This has ceased to have any resemble to a wrestling match...I'm getting a sickening feeling one of these men might have to die before this match actually ends... Jack Anderson: What's Rock doing now? [Rock lifts Arcola and tosses him towards the table that holds the two buckets. Arcola crashes into the table rib first, and the table falls, and both buckets land, some of the glass and glue spilling out.] Jim Robson: Rock grabbing the bucket of glue...HE DUMPS IT OVER ARCOLA'S HEAD!!! [Arcola staggers back and rubs at his face and head, trying to get the stickiness off of himself, without much luck, as it soon forms a pink mixture as the blood and glue mix] Oh my god, he wouldn't... [Rock grabs the bucket of glass shards and sets it upright as he grabs Arcola by the head and the crowd stands in anticipation] ROCK SHOVES ARCOLA FACE FIRST INTO THAT BUCKET! [He does just that to a huge roar from the fans, grinding Arcola's face around savagely in the bucket of glass shards. Rock then pulls Arcola back out, and the viewer witnesses an unrecognizable man, his face covered with copious amounts of blood, sticky glue, and uncountable shards of glass. Some stuck to the glue, some stuck _in_ his face. It's disturbing to see. Several fans are seen looking away, and Jim Robson retches.] Jim Robson: I think I'm going to be sick...this is awful... Jack Anderson: I can only hope Arcola doesn't have any damage to his eyes...the man's face is just SHREDDED. You can't make out his facial features, I don't even know how he can see to fight from here on. Jim Robson: I don't know how I'm going to call the remainder of this match... [Rock lifts Arcola, who seems about hysterical at his predicament, over his shoulder after a solid belt to the face and carries him back to the ring, rolling him in on the blood streaked canvas. He casually picks up the chair that was laying on the outside of the ring and tosses it into the ring, following after him.] Jim Robson: I don't like the looks of this...I truely don't... [Arcola pushes himself to his knees, flailing his arms about nervously in search of Rock, his vision partially obscured. Rock gives a half-smirk and swings] *KEERRRRRR-ACCCCCCCKKKKK* [A chair shot that eclipses the previous ones delivered by Rock for sheer force and brutality slams down across Arcola's FACE, in a sickeningly brutal manuever as the force of the chair drives all of those glass shards deeper into Arcola's face, forcing yet even more blood from Arcola. Arcola crumbles to the mat, looking lifeless.] FANS: I/W! I/W! I/W! I/W! Jim Robson: ....... Jack Anderson: He's not done...man, this is a classic match...people will be telling their GRANDCHILDREN about this one. Jim Robson: I'm not even going to comment on you or this match...I'm just going to shut my match and call it. Rock...he...he pulls Arcola up to his feet...he's supporting his full weight as Arcola just hangs limply...he's setting him up for the Cutting Edge for the second time in this matchup... *WHAM* [Rock nails the Cutting Edge - a combination face buster/Pedigree down onto the chair with vicious force. Arcola's blood smears the chair as he lays unconscious.] Jim Robson: Rock covers... 1..... . . . . . 2.... . . . . . 3!!!! DING! DING! DING! DING! FRANCINE: The winner of the second fall, as a result of a pinfall, "SERIAL THRILLER" BILLY ROCK. (Fans pop like crazy). As both men have registered a fall within the ring, the winner of the third and final fall MUST pin his opponent outside of the ring. There will be a two-minute break for both wrestlers before the start of fall 3. Jim Robson: I don't think it would matter if you gave them two hours...there's no way either of these men, especially Justin Arcola, would be able to compete at a hundred percent. [Reminiscient of the end of the third fall, but worse, Justin Arcola lays motionless, with the exception of the occasional ragged breath, as he lays in a faceful of the chair, glue, puddles of blood, and shards of glass. Billy Rock sits in the corner, wincing in pain, but none the less in better shape than Arcola, gathering his breath and resting as the two minutes on the clock tick away.] DING! DING! DING! DING! Jim Robson: I bet that was the shortest two minutes in these men's lives...Rock stands to his feet, wincing and advances over on Justin Arcola...Rock pulling Arcola to his feet...he sets him up...SAMOAN NECKBREAKER! [Rock tosses Arcola into the air and catches him on the way down in a Diamond Cutter type manuever] Rock goes to cover... The ref's not counting! Rock forgot this pin has to be on the outside of the ring! Rock, looking a little frustrated....HE THROWS ARCOLA OVER THE TOP TO THE OUTSIDE! ARCOLA HITS THE MAT HARD! Rock following him outside...he drives several vicious kicks to the back of Arcola's neck as he lays there. Jack Anderson: Had that pin been on the outside of the ring, it's possible this match could have been over. But it seemed to annoy Rock the ref didn't count, and he's going to take his agression out on the only person handy. [Rock pulls away the mat padding covering the concrete on the outside and disdainfully tosses it aside, then spits on the concrete. He reaches over and grabs Arcola.] Jim Robson: Rock setting up Justin Arcola....my god....ROCK WITH THE POWERBOMB.... NO!!! [Instead of powerbombing Arcola, Rock follows through once he has him up and just lets him fall backwards, straight down on the concrete. Arcola cracks face first, FURTHER opening up the wound on his head. Rock then immediately drives a hard knee into the back of Arcola's neck and rolls him on his back.] The cover... 1.... . . . . . . 2..... . . . . . . THRE....NO!!! OH MY GOD!!! ARCOLA KICKS OUT!!!! [The crowd pops huge at this, and Rock responds rolling Arcola back onto his stomach and commences repeatedly smashing him face first onto the concrete, his face still a mass of blood, glue and glass, further pushign those shards back into his face. Rock shoves Arcola aside and reaches under the ring.] Jim Robson: Oh my...please...we don't need to see any of this... [Rock, with a sadistic look on his face, pulls out the ladder that was used earlier in the Stairway to Hell match. He goes to lift it, and then winces, dropping it as he clutches at his shoulder. He settles for sliding it under the bottom rope instead of tossing it over.] Jack Anderson: The possibilities here are endless, and none of them are pleasant for Justin Arcola, or even Billy Rock...this ladder has already seen quite a bit of use tonight, and none of THOSE were pleasant either...Rock is rolling Justin Arcola into the ring... [Rock follows after Arcola, and immediately lifts the ladder, putting most of the weight on his good arm and slams it down into Arcola's rib cage with awesome force, and repeats this several more times, leaving the only half-conscious Arcola clutching at his ribs.] Jim Robson: Rock SLAMS that ladder down onto Arcola one final time....he comes off the ropes now...ELBOW DROP ONTO THAT LADDER, CRUSHING ARCOLA'S HEAD UNDERNEATH! [Huge pop from the fans, who are becoming hoarse from this match, but are still hungry for more. Rock gingerly pulls the ladder off of Arcola and sets it up vertically, and begins to climb.] Jack Anderson: ARCOLA LEAPS AND SHOVES THE LADDER! [From out of nowhere laying on the ground, Arcola somehow has the fortitude to hit the ladder hard enough to send Rock crashing back to the ground as he is about halfway to the top. Arcola, whose face is enough of a mess at this point to be unpleasant to look at, uses the ladder rungs to pull himself slowly and deliberately to his feet. This is little strength or life in his movements.] Jim Robson: Rock hit really hard there, but what else is new....Arcola is trying to deliver on that moment of desperate offense, but he's finding it almost impossible...Arcola's over at him now... [Arcola delivers a series of half-assed stomps at Rock's injured shoulder, but it's so tender at this point that even the lack of strength in his blows sets Rock wincing. Arcola pulls Rock to his feet and shakily hooks him from behind] Jim Robson: RELEASE BACK SUPLEX BY JUSTIN ARCOLA!!! I have no idea how Arcola found the strength for that move, these two men are just insane. If these men were to display this kind of resolve in every match, they'd destroy all competition. Arcola now....HE WHIPS ROCK INTO THE ROPES... FLAPJACK!!! OH MY GOD!!! [Rock's face strikes one of the bottom steps and stays there, and Arcola immediately measures him up] Jack Anderson: Oh my god...I see what Arcola is thinking... Jim Robson: I can't look... *CRUNCH* [Arcola delivers a crushing stomp to the back of Rock's head, crunching it down onto the step. Rock rolls off the step on the mat where he lays staring at the ceiling, giving short, gasping breaths and clutching at his face. Not even taking into consideration his destroyed nose, the force of the move put several of his teeth through his upper lip, which is now gushing blood much the same as the nose did earlier.] Jim Robson: _MOTHER MERCY_! Jack Anderson: Man...this is well beyond anything I even considered... Jim Robson: Arcola isn't even pausing for breath...he's pulling Rock to his feet...ARCOLA SETTING HIM UP FOR A NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX... ROCK COUNTERS IT INTO A DDT ONTO HIS GLASS COVERED HAND! [Another huge pop from the crowd at this as, if possible, Arcola's face recieves even more cuts] Jack Anderson: Rock, amazingly, to his feet yet again...YES!!! He's climbing that ladder...you haven't seen anything yet, folks... Jim Robson: It simply scares me you would even say that...Arcola is up soon after him...Billy is about halfway up again...he begins to shake the ladder again...wait, he's stopping... [Arcola stops shaking the ladder and instead walks around to the other side of the ladder and begins climbing as well, following close behind Billy Rock.] Jim Robson: Both men trading punches as they climb! Those punches don't have the power they did at the beginning of the match, and they both seem to be immune to them at this point...both men are at about face level with the top of the ladder now...BILLY GRABS JUSTIN BY THE HAIR AND SLAMS HIS GLASS COVERED FACE INTO THE TOP OF THE LADDER....Billy climbs a few more steps up...what IS he doing? [Billy puts Justin's head between his legs and begins to hoist him into a powerbomb] Jim Robson: ____NO_____! _MY_ _GOD_, ___NO____! SOMEBODY STOP THIS! Jack Anderson: There's NO F***ING WAY... [Billy has Justin in the air for the powerbomb as the entire arena seemingly quiets as they watch in anticipation/horror] *SCREECH* Jim Robson: OH MY GOD! JACK! MOVE! [That look changes to one of PURE horror and shock as the ladder begins tipping forward, the entire arena gasping in shock] *CRASH* [Like something out of a horror movie, the ladder falls, seemingly almost slowly at first, from its height of fifteen feet. Billy holds onto Justin's legs in the powerbomb position as both men are sent sailing through the air to the outside as quick fans get off a few pictures.] [The ladder is tall enough that when it falls, the top lands out past the ropes. And thus, Billy and Justin go to the outside, too, only they are falling damn near 25 feet.] [Silence from the crowd and announcers for the milli-second of time that seems to last forever as both men are suspended in mid-air] *CCCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHH* [Both men go through the French announcing table with a violence previously unseen, as Billy "completes" the powerbomb, Justin taking most of the brunt of the fall. The table shatters, sending shards and splinters off in thousands of directions, as sparks fly from the electrical equipment, some of it landing on the heap that is Rock and Arcola. The two broadcasters had the presence of mind to get the hell out of Dodge at the last possible moment.] [Momentary, dramatic silence which then builds into a HUGE roar from the crowd and further shocked silence from Robson and Anderson] Jack Anderson: JESUS HAROLD CHRIST ON A F****ING RUBBER CRUTCH!!! Jim Robson: GET MEDICS DOWN HERE! NOW! [Almost immediately, Jim's words are followed, as medical officers begin dashing out from the back] [Rock and Arcola lay motionless under the heap of rubble, wood and electrical equipment. Neither of their faces are visible.] Jim Robson: People...this was NOT supposed to happen...and maybe I'm 'breaking kayfabe' again, but that's just the way it is. Nothing like this was planned. I'm sorry that it looks like you're not going to get to see the culmination of this matchup, but there are some things that take priority. Jack Anderson: Oh my god....Billy Rock... [Just as the medical officers approach, Billy Rock is seen stirring beneath the table. Several of them approach hesitantly and begin pulling rubble off of the two men. Rock lashes out with his arm, shoving one of the men away with as much force as he can muster, and attempts to do a modified push up to get himself to his knee, but curses out loud, his arm giving way. His injured shoulder is VISIBLY dislocated. A medic comes over to help him to his feet and gets an elbow in the mouth for his efforts.] Jim Robson: How in the HELL? Jack Anderson: The only thing I can think of is that Justin Arcola took the full, or at least most of the brunt of that fall. Either that or pain has ceased to mean anything at this point in the matchup. [Billy Rock grabs the railing and pushes himself to his feet, his eyes displaying a wild, animalistic rage that seems to burn even through his injuries. Beyond his shoulders, there is a "splinter" of wood nearing about a foot in length that is imbedded diagonally in his back, and he walks gingerly on his right ankle.] Jim Robson: Get Arcola out of there, now! [Justin Arcola, on the other hand, is even worse, if possible. His ribs are grotesquely extended on one side, obviously broken, and his breathing is heard in small, tortured gasps. His head is laying at an odd angle, obviously from further damage to his neck.] Jim Robson: I can't believe this...Rock is pushing the ladder back into the ring and following it in himself.... [As already said, Rock sets the ladder up in the ring, and once again begins climbing to the top as the fans' chanting increases once again] Jack Anderson: There's no way, even Rock isn't this crazy.... [Rock reaches the top at a much slower rate than he did last time, just as Justin Arcola has managed to roll over on his side, clutching at his rib cage and trying to fight to his feet, yelling weakly at the medics to move] Jim Robson: Please no...DON'T DO THIS! [Rock reaches the top of the ladder and stares down at Arcola sadistically, then out at the crowd. He draws his hand across his throat and then spreads his arms out as the crowd once again goes silent with anticipation, and flashbulbs burst all over the arena.] [He pauses briefly] Jim Robson: NO, NO, NO.... [He leaps.] Jack Anderson: F****ING A!!!! [Rock crashes down at a perfect angle with a thunderous frog splash which lands on Justin Arcola partly, and partly on the rubble from the table.] CROWD: I/W! I/W! I/W! I/W! [Fortunately for Arcola, he didn't take the full brunt of the drop, and Rock actually seemed to be saved by the angle of the busted table. None the less, the drop was brutal for both men.] Jim Robson: Rock covers...this is it, ladies and gentlemen... 1..... . . . . . . . . . 2...... . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!! . . . . NO!!!! HERANDEZ SAYS ARCOLA RAISED HIS SHOULDER!!! WHAT THE HELL? YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING! [HUGE fan reaction, as there starts two seperate chants of "ROCK" and "ARCOLA" from the fans as one, then two, then three minutes pass] Jim Robson: And both men are moving...unbelievable...the medics have decided they're not even going to try to talk these men out of this.... Jack Anderson: It's been no good before, and it's not going to be any good now... [Rock is the first to his feet as Arcola is still clutching at his ribs. Rock pulls Arcola to his feet by his hair and tosses him over agains the ring apron, cracking off his broken ribs, and Arcola near passes out from the shooting pain.] Jim Robson: He's throwing Arcola, who's barely BREATHING at this point, into the ring and follows him in. He's got the ladder...HE TIPS IT OVER ON TOP OF ARCOLA. Now he's leaving the ring again...he's digging under the ring... [Rock reaches under the ring and pulls out, one by one, a number of steel chairs - at least a dozen. Then, slowly and methodically, he begins chucking them into the ring, all of them landing on or around Justin Arcola, covering him in a pile of chairs, under which is the ladder, and then Justin. He pulls also a folded table out from under the ring and pulls the legs out, setting it up. Using only his good arm, he hoists it up so that one end is resting on the ring apron and the other on the edge of the guard rail. Rock then climbs to the top rope, and points down at the mass of chairs and the ladder which cover the unmoving Justin Arcola.] Jim Robson: JESUS CHRIST, NO! Jack Anderson: HOLY S***! [Rock flies off the top rope onto the pile of wreckage with a huge elbow drop, signalling another huge pop/chant from the crowd. Rock kicks away the mass of chairs and pulls the body of Justin Arcola out from underneath and pulls him to his feet once again.] Jim Robson: My lord, now what? [Rock tosses Arcola over the top rope onto the spread-out table. It cracks slightly but holds. Rock nods confidently, and goes over, grabbing a chair, and climbs the top rope.] Jim Robson: No way...No way...NO WAY.... Jack Anderson: THIS GUY'S F****ING NUTS!!! [Rock lifts a chair as if some sort of salute to the fans, then leaps off the top rope in an Arabian Facebuster down on Arcola with the EDGE of the chair down into Arcola's ribs, destroying the chair and everything in between. The two halves of the table split violently, seperating completly. The one half leans against the guard rail, with Arcola leaning against it.] CROWD: I/W! I/W! I/W! I/W! Jim Robson: He's GOT to make the pin now! Just have this be OVER! I can't TAKE anymore! Jack Anderson: Rock composes himself...he pushes Arcola on his back.... Jim Robson: The FINAL cover.... 1..... . . . . . . . . . 2..... . . . . . . . . . . 2 1/2.... . . . . . . . . . _____KICK-OUT_________!!!! [The crowd, for lack of a better way to put it, goes f*cking nuts.] Jim Robson: This is simply beyond any sane person's comprehension. Arcola, and Rock for that matter, CANNOT be made of mortal flesh and blood. It's simply impossible. This entire match is impossible, and I'm saying right now I will never call another one like it. Jack Anderson: My god, CALLING this match is absolutely exhausting. Being in one is beyond my wildest nightmares. [An amazed Billy Rock pulls himself to his feet using the railing and his good arm, limping slightly on his left ankle. Both men look at this point like victims of a nuclear disaster. Rock's hands have started to bleed, as much of the tape on his hands has fallen off during the match. Their conditions have already been described, just think even worse now.] Jim Robson: Rock pulling Arcola to his feet....HE TOSSES HIM OVER THE RAILING INTO THE CROWD! Oh god...they're leaving the ring... Jack Anderson: Rock should just pin him again! That had to be a reflex action! Jim Robson: Arcola is on his knees...KICK TO THE RIBS BY ROCK! Rock lifts Arcola for a slam...HE DROPS HIM, CLUTCHING HIS SHOULDER. Arcola manages to pull himself to his feet...ARCOLA HOOKS ROCK'S HEAD, REVERSE DDT ON THE CONCRETE, HE COVERS... 1.... . . . . . . . 2..... . . . . . . . KICK OUT!!! [Another huge roar from the crowd, as Arcola stands, pulling Rock up with him, both men running on near empty at this point, throwing half hearted weak punches at each other. They clutch at each other, half for support as they begin stumbling towards the side exit in the crowd, surrounded by security guards to keep cheering fans from getting in on it. They stumble through the pathway and dissapear behind the exit door briefly only to be followed by the cameraman as they continue the weak assaults on each other] Jim Robson: They're headed for.... Jack Anderson: The PARKING LOT! [As they reach the parking lot a few minutes later, both men destroyed and exhausted, Arcola shoves Rock forward to the pavement.] Jim Robson: Arcola's over...HE STOMPS ON ROCK'S SHOULDER, AND AGAIN! That's the dislocated one! Get out the censors, people! [Rock curses at each stomp, his face etched in agony. Arcola pulls him to his feet once again and sets him up] Jack Anderson: ARCOLA IRISH WHIPS BILLY ROCK INTO THE NEAREST CAR! BILLY IS SPRAWLED OUT ACROSS THE HOOD! Jim Robson: Arcola lifts up Rock...he sets him up...GERMAN SUPLEX BY ARCOLA ON THE CAR HOOD, HE BRIDGES... 1..... . . . . . . . . 2...... . . . . . . . . . . KICK OUT BY ROCK! AMAZING! Arcola pulls Rock to his feet...HE GOES TO THROW HIM OFF THE HOOD TO THE CONCRETE... ROCK REVERSES, ARCOLA GOES CRASHING DOWN! Jack Anderson: There's no adjectives or hyperbole left that can describe what this match has been like and what these men have been through. Jim Robson: I'm not even thinking about it, I'm just calling the match. Rock hops off the car...he buckles his knee as he lands on that bum ankle...Rock grabs Arcola...he leads him towards the car....MY GOD! *SHATTER* HE TOSSES HIM HEAD FIRST THROUGH THAT WINDOW! BLOOD AND GLASS SHARDS ARE EVERYWHERE! [A muffled cheer is heard from the fans still in the arena] Arcola is down and bleeding yet again...more blood to coat that which has already dried on his face! Rock reaches into the car door and unlocks it...he pulls Arcola up into the door frame... HE SLAMS THE CAR DOOR DIRECTLY ON ARCOLA'S NECK! ARCOLA FALLS BACK! ROCK DROPS AND ELBOW AND COVERS... 1..... . . . . . . . . 2..... . . . . . . . . . 2 1/2.... . . . . . . . . . . KICK OUT!!! ARCOLA HAS KICKED OUT _AGAIN_! [Another huge muffled pop from inside the arena] Jim Robson: Rock has Arcola...he's leading him over to the garage door...HE TOSSES HIM FACE FIRST INTO THE PARKING GARAGE DOOR! Jack Anderson: Rock grabs the handle on the door, he's lifting it...it looks like they're going to take this outside! [From inside the garage, the view is of a busy street, and beyond that, the Plaza of Nations building. To the side is the steps leading into the General Motors Arena.] Jim Robson: Rock goes to lift Arcola...LOW BLOW BY ARCOLA! ARCOLA NOW....HE DROPS ROCK, FACE FIRST! [Arcola delivers a version of Billy Gunn's "Fame-Asser" move] Jack Anderson: ARCOLA HAS THE DOOR CHAIN! *WHAM* [Another muffled pop as Arcola yanks the full weight of the garage door down onto Billy Rock, crashing down into his abdominals] Jim Robson: Arcola might not be the only one with busted ribs now! Jack Anderson: This match is getting to you, you're losing your usually moral outrage! Jim Robson: Maybe I've been de-sensitized, who knows. There's been so much brutality in this match I've lost interest in reacting. Jack Anderson: Arcola has Rock, he's leading him outside the arena as both men brawl nonstop. They're rotating lefts and rights....Rock is getting the better of this exchange as he still has those glass covered fists to an extent... [Both men continue brawling, throwing constant fists and kicks at each other as they head towards the main street, with heavy traffic. Rock drops Arcola with a blow to the head and then kicks him in the ribs to follow up, and Arcola rolls to the edge of the curb. Rock goes for a stomp at Arcola, but Arcola grabs the leg and pulls him down, and Rock falls off the curb onto the street, as cars whiz dangerously close by.] Jim Robson: They're on the street...next one of them will be hitting by a far, for christ's sakes! Jack Anderson: Arcola grabs Rock and sets him up...BUTTERFLY BOMB ON ROCK ON THE STREET! HE COVERS.... 1..... . . . . . . . 2.... . . . . . . . . KICK OUT BY ROCK! Jim Robson: Arcola pulls Rock to his feet...THEY'RE CROSSING THE STREET! JESUS CHRIST! [Both men dive to the concrete, falling forward as a car screeches and swerves to avoid hitting them, coming dangerously close. Luckily for them, it was the last one as the light turns red and they stumble the rest of the way across the street and begin heading for the Plaza of Nations building.] Jim Robson: Don't tell me they're going in there? Jack Anderson: That place has a public plaza, a stage, a mini-forest, a marina, and an variety of shops and restaraunts, and something tells me it's about to have its first IWF/WoW match. Jim Robson: Isn't it made almost entirely of glass? Jack Anderson: That it is... [Rock and Arcola reach the building, and Arcola tosses Rock through the front door, "opening" it for him. Arcola slugs Rock in the back of the head as he rises, as the shocked unlookers are shooed away by security as the two men continue brawling] ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= END OF THE WORLD 5 CONTINUES IN PART 9!!! Jim Robson: They're officially IN the plaza building! Jack Anderson: ARCOLA WHIPS ROCK OVER INTO ONE OF THE RESTARAUNT AREAS! Arcola over, he scoops and slams Rock onto the floor. He pulls him back up...he's over by one of the glass tables...ARCOLA HIP TOSSES ROCK THROUGH ONE OF THE GLASS TABLES! HE COVERS... 1.... . . . . . . 2.... . . . . . . . KICK OUT!!! Arcola is to his feet...he uses one of the chairs to climb on top of another of the tables...he's waiting for Rock to stand....ARCOLA NAILS HIM WITH A _VICIOUS_ TORNADO DDT AS HE STANDS! ROCK IS SPLIT OPEN, _AGAIN_! ANOTHER COVER.... 1..... . . . . . . . . 2..... . . . . . . . . ROCK KICKS OUT, AGAIN!!! Jack Anderson: UN-F***ING-BELIEVABLE!!! Jim Robson: Couldn't have said it better myself...Arcola lifting Rock....he goes to whip him through the kitchen door...ROCK REVERSE IT, ARCOLA HITS HARD! Rock is in after him with amazing speed...ROCK HAS A FORK!!! HE'S DIGGING IT INTO THE CUTS IN ARCOLA'S FOREHEAD! SHADES OF ABDULLAH THE BUTCHER! [The cuts in Arcola's forehead where Rock uses the fork are becomingly sickeningly deep. Arcola manages to shove Rock away, towards the oven grill.] Jack Anderson: ARCOLA CHARGES ROCK... ROCK BACKDROPS HIM.... RIGHT ONTO THE GRILL! [A physically disgusting sound of searing flesh is heard as Arcola screams in pain and jumps off quickly. A brief image is seen of his dark red back upon which a huge hunk of skin is now hanging off] Jim Robson: Oh...my...dear....god. That has to be third degree burns.... Jack Anderson: ROCK HAS A FRYING PAIN! *CRACK* [Rock damn near brains the agonized Arcola with the pan, droping him down on his now super sensitive back, and covers] 1..... . . . . . . 2..... . . . . . . KICK OUT!!! Jim Robson: This has long since ceased to be a wrestling match...Rock has Arcola up, he's leading him out...he TOSSES HIM DOWN A NEARBY FLIGHT OF STAIRS! That leads to the Marina! [Arcola goes tumbling down the stairs, leaving traces of blood and hunks of skin from his back all over, and he lays in a heap at the bottom. Rock lifts him and drags him over to the Marina area, straight at one of the huge ship tether chains. Rock grabs the chain and swings it at Arcola, but Arcola manages to duck, kneeing Rock in the gut and grabbing the chain himself.] Jim Robson: ARCOLA WITH THE CHAIN! HE CRACKS ROCK BETWEEN THE EYES! He wraps the chain around Rock's throat now...HE CHOKES HIM, JERKING HIM BACK AND FORTH....ROCK LIFTS HIM IN THE AIR BY THE CHAIN AROUND THE THROAT...HE SLAMS HIM BACK TO THE GROUND! A COVER.... 1.... . . . . . . . 2..... . . . . . KICK OUT!!! Jack Anderson: He's grabbing that hook at the end of the chain...HE WHIPS THE HOOK INTO ROCK'S BAD ARM AND SHOULDER...AND AGAIN, AND AGAIN, AND AGAIN! THAT SHOULDER IS EVEN _MORE_ OUT OF PLACE NOW! ROCK KICKS AT ARCOLA'S KNEE TO STOP IT! ARCOLA FALLS BACK! *THUMP* [The screen goes dead] Jim Robson: What happened? Did they hit the cameraman? Jack Anderson: I'm being told that's exactly what happened, and he dropped the camera. We're going to try to get a feed back up as soon as possible, but I'm also being told Rock and Arcola are brawling back out of the building back towards the arena now! [After a period of a couple of minutes, a camera backstage comes on, the screen moving fast as the camerman charges towards the new position of the brawling Rock and Arcola. He approaches the mezzenine of the arena, where Rock and Arcola are seen, still battling it out, looking MUCH the worse for wear. Both men's faces are long since unregonizable. Glass is literally imbedded in Arcola's face, and he sports obviously broken ribs and an absolutely nasty burn across a large area of his back. Rock's shoulder and nose are both broken, there's a huge hole in his lip, blood is coming from his head, and his ankle is likely at least sprained as well. What makes this whole scene even the more dangerous is where they are - the mezzanine, where the barrier is literally hundreds of feet from the parking lot, which makes one ill to think of considering what has already happened in this match.] Jim Robson: What on earth are they doing there? Jack Anderson: Don't ask me! I'm at lost for answers as you are! [Arcola knocks Rock to the floor with a clothesline as they seem to get nearer and nearer the edge. Carl and Fleury are seen to the side, as they have been following Rock and Arcola the whole match to prevent interference, just not necessarily within view.] Jim Robson: Rock with a blow to the gut of Arcola, he doubles him over....Rock lifting Arcola...BRAIN BUSTER!!! ARCOLA'S LEGS ARE DANGLING OVER THE EDGE! THAT DROP IS GOD KNOWS HOW LONG, IT'S CERTAIN DEATH! Jack Anderson: Rock leans over and lifts Arcola... . . . . . ARCOLA HIPTOSSES ROCK..... HE GOES OVER THE EDGE!!!! HE WENT OVER!!!! Jim Robson: NO!!! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING! WE CAN'T LOSE A WRESTLER LIKE THIS! [There's a sudden stillness within the sounds coming from the arena, and both announcers sit there in shock, unable to speak further. Arcola staggers around near the edge with a unreadable look on his face. Both Lumski and Fleury have staggered looks on their faces as well as Arcola staggers towards the edge and looks over, and the cameraman hesitantly does likewise.] Jim Robson: There's no reason we need to see thi....WHAT? OH THANK GOD... [Only 8 or 9 feet below, on top of one of the massive I/W production trucks, is Billy Rock, who is now climbing back up the side towards the top of the mezzanine once again. Lumksi and Fleury charge over to help, Lumski shoving Arcola out of the way as Fleury helps pull Billy Rock back up, where Arcola immediately begins stomping at him once again and the couple then backs off to allow the match to continue.] Jim Robson: I think I've lost at least five years of my life calling this match, and FOUR of those were from what just happened! Jack Anderson: I have to hope that Justin Arcola knew of the location of that truck...I can't believe he would intentionally try to kill the man... Jim Robson: That'd be something we're all better off not knowing I'm sure... [Both men continue brawling, with Arcola leading the way once again, as they head back into the building, seemingly towards the backstage area. The brawl continues the entire length, as both men batter each other with punches, kicks and a variety of weapons and objects they pick up along the way. The roar of the crowd gets closer sounding.] Jim Robson: Arcola has a lead pipe! HE CRASHES IT INTO ROCK'S ARM, AND AGAIN! Rock drops to the ground in pain! Arcola whips him into the nearby door once again, the door open and Rock falls in! They're in the backstage construction area! Jack Anderson: Who knows what possibilities they have in here...lord knows they've thought of just about everything else. Jim Robson: Arcola goes to whip Rock into a stack of lumber...ROCK KICKS ARCOLA IN THE GUT... OZARD DEATHRIDE!! HE NAILED IT OUT OF NOWHERE!!! THE COVER... 1....... . . . . . . . . . . . 2..... . . . . . . . . . . 2 1/2.... . . . . . . . . . . . [Dramatic pause] 3!!!! THIS ONE'S OVER!!! Jack Anderson: NO, NO, NO!!! THE REF IS CALLING A TWO! HOW, I DON'T KNOW, BUT HE'S SAYING ARCOLA KICKED OUT! Jim Robson: Rock appears angry for the first time in the match, he's questioning the referee...Arcola lays on the ground clutching his destroyed head....he crawls over to and uses that pile of lumber to stand...he grabs one of the 2 x 4's....ROCK TURNS AROUND AT THE LAST MINUTE, HE DUCKS THE 2 X 4 SHOT FROM ARCOLA! Rock with a boot to the gut, he grabs at the piece of lumber....ARCOLA THRUSTS IT BACK IN HIS FACE! Arcola scooping up Billy Rock...ARCOLA DRIVER!!! ARCOLA DRIVER!!! HE PLANTED HIM!!! Jack Anderson: He's not covering!!! What's he doing? [Arcola, at as fast a pace as he can muster, runs off towards a nearby forklift which sits conspiciously by the stack of lumber, dragging Rock by his arm. He deposits Rock under the fork and then climbs up into the machine.] Jim Robson: You're not telling me... [Arcola then drops the fork, which is holding hundreds of pounds of lumber, down across Billy Rock's chest, and Rock finds himself pinned under the opressive weight, and unable to do anything] Jack Anderson: Arcola casually gets out of the lift and walks over to Rock...he gets up on the fork... [Arcola stares directly into Billy's eyes, sits and pushes his hands down directly on Billy's shoulders as the stunned referee counts] 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 1/2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . THHHHHHRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! DING! DING! DING! DING! [Some of the fans boo at the result, but the vast majority pop in respect for what was an amazing matchup] FRANCINE: The winner of the third fall and the match and thus the NEW IWF/WOW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION, ("Ride of the Valkyries" by Wagner plays and the fans react much the same), JUSTIN ARCOLA. -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- WINNER: Justin Arcola -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- Jim Robson: IT'S OVER! FINALLY! Arcola collapses to the ground exhausted...I'm sure he's just been hit by everything that's transpired in this match...both of these men will be in a hospital bed the next several weeks I'm sure, but Arcola is the one who pulls out the win here tonight! Jack Anderson: Some of the construction workers are over pulling the fork off of Rock, who is gasping for air and slowly getting to his feet...HE'S GOT A SLAB OF CONCRETE, HE COMES OVER AND SLAMS IT DOWN ON ARCOLA'S HEAD!!! ROCK, YOU IDIOT, THE MATCH IS OVER!!! [Rock then grabs a nearby shovel] Jim Robson: NO!!!! HE CAN'T DO THIS!! THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT HE DID TO JOHNY SPADES NOT LONG AGO!! HE'S GOING TO KILL JUSTIN ARCOLA!! NO, SOMEBODY STOP THIS!!! Jack Anderson: GET THIS IDIOT OUT OF THERE! [Rock looks down at Arcola, shakes his head, and drops the shovel to his side, and then practically collapses into the arms of Carl Lumski and his girlfriend, suddenly overwhelmed by his injuries and the brutality of the match. They support him until the medics, complete with stretchers, arrive backstage for both men] Jim Robson: Rock lets him go? Out of respect maybe? Jack Anderson: Why ever he did it, this was maybe the best match I've ever called, and Justin Arcola is your IC champ! We have one more match left tonight, and I have no idea how it's going to top this... Jim Robson: I don't even know how I'm going to CALL the next match, for god's sakes... thankfully, we do have a bit of a break. Eric Travers and the Prophet are backstage... they have a few final pre-match comments, lets hear from them! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= [The camera fades in to the dressing room of The Trifecta. Anthony Edwards stands in between The Prophet, and an intense looking Eric Travers. The Prophet is wearing his wrestling gear and smoothing out the tape around his wrists, while Travers is wearing his black wrestling trunks, but has yet to put on his elbow pads. The look on his face is serious, lacking the arrogance we normally see.] Anthony Edwards: Prophet, Travers, the time is almost here. In just a little while, the two of you face Jeremy Thranton with your World Title on the line Eric. [Travers nods and begins to speak.] Eric Travers: The time is almost here... The time has almost arrived for Jeremy Thranton to face the music. Thranton wants everyone to believe that he will walk out of GM Place as The new IWF/WOW World Champion... [Travers shakes his head back and forth] Eric Travers: NO WAY!! It's NOT going to happen Thranton!! You don't have the skills, nor do you have the smarts to defeat a team as formidable as the one that stands before you now. We're going to pick you apart Jeremy... Piece by piece by piece... When we're finished Thranton... Your little senorita isn't going to recognize you... Not physically, not mentally... You'll be a broken man Thranton, in more ways than one!!! [Travers pauses, and takes a deep breath.] Eric Travers: I didn't become the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion by some fluke... Prophet didn't become the IWF/WOW Heavyweight Champion by some fluke... We both reached that pinnacle because we're DAMN GOOD at what we do!! You're walking into a no-win situation Thranton, and there's no escaping your fate. You WILL lose, and you WILL get hurt!!! Anthony Edwards: [turns to The Prophet] And Prophet, your history with Jeremy Thranton is well documented… Prophet: History? You wanna talk history? [Prophet turns to the camera] Thranton…let it be known that YOU are history tonight, when you walk into that ring with the Trifecta! You’ve got the World Champion and you have the Man, the Myth and the Legend known to the world as The Prophet staring you down from the other side of that ring…no one man, I don’t care how big, tall and strong he may think he is can withstand that kind of onslaught! That includes you, Thranton! Anthony Edwards: But, it seems that every time you appear to gain the upper hand on Jeremy Thranton, he is able to answer you the following week. Prophet: I’ll give him props, I don’t know if he’s too stubborn to know when to quit or if he’s too stupid to know when to stop…but, tonight, we take that decision out of his hands. His little alliance with the Franchise Flamers is dying an ugly death and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s all alone, one more time. Born alone, lived alone and tonight…Thranton goes down alone. Once again, the Trifecta will walk in with the gold and we will walk out with the gold. Do You Believe? {Travers and The Prophet turn away from the camera, leaving Anthony Edwards alone.] ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= END OF THE WORLD 5 CONTINUES IN PART 10!!! Jim Robson: We're all set... Jack Anderson: Oh yeah! I can't wait. This is one of the biggest main events we have ever seen on a pay-per-view. I can't remember that last time that there was so much hatred between two sides. Jim Robson: For sure... Thranton hasn't exactly ever seen eye to eye with the Prophet or Eric Travers, and it could all come to a conclusion here tonight. Any predictions? Jack Anderson: Prophet and Travers, of course! Jim Robson: Maybe so... but you and I both know that the Prophet doesn't have a winning record in pay-per-view main events? What is he? Zero for a trillion? Jack Anderson: Shut up!! Jim Robson: It's true, it's true! This match should be great, just about everyone will be watching, I'm sure. Jack Anderson: Especially Shane St. Clair! Jim Robson: Definitely. St. Clair won the Stairway to Hell match earlier on here tonight, and earned a shot against whoever the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion. Jack Anderson: It's about time... Jim Robson: Anyways, lets get to the ring. _______ ______ | ____\ \ / / ___| -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- | _| \ \ /\ / /|___ \ IWF/WOW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE HANDICAPPED MATCH | |___ \ V V / ___) | Eric Travers/the Prophet vs Jeremy Thranton |_____| \_/\_/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 -=-=-=-=-=- ---------------------------> WRITER: Chris J. <--------------------------- [A hush settles over the crowd as the arena lights dim slightly, then abruptly ends a few seconds later when the first few chords of "Seasons In The Abyss" by Slayer ring throughout the arena, sending the audience to their feet as the crowd responds heavily, although they are mixed between the cheers from the diehard Thranton marks and the boos from those who dislike his current associates and attitude. The jumbo-tron screen lights up, displaying a simple black background over which 'The Equalizer Jeremy Thranton' is displayed in dark crimson lettering. The letters pulsate slightly until the screen fuzzes over with intentional static at the same time the song kicks back on, full force.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Los Angeles, California standing 6 feet 8 inches and weighing 325 pounds, he is a former World and North American champion as well as an IWF/WoW Hall of Fame inductee....ladies and gentlemen, here is... "THE EQUALIZER" JEREMY THRANTON!! [After a few seconds of blaring music, Thranton casually steps through the curtain, wearing an altogether unconcerned look on his face, although it still betrays a sense of menace as well as a slight smirk. He pauses for a minute and then rotates his head in a circular motion, cracking his neck and then begins moving forward at a medium pace, his eyes seemingly set at a spot over the horizon.] [Thranton is a large, muscular/bulky, well-built man, although he does not have a bodybuilder's physique. His ancestry is part African-American and part Irish, which gives him a somewhat unique color of skin, but his features are that of a black man. All visible skin, but especially his face, is dotted with deep scars from past conflicts, including a prominent burn on his left cheek. In contrast to his previous long main of black hair, his head is now cleanly shaved, and he sports a goatee. He wears a plain black sleeveless T-shirt underneath a black leather jacket, of which the back is adorned with the symbol of barbed wire wrapped around a bleeding arm. This symbol is also present hanging around his neck, attached to a white necklace. He also wears black fingerless gloves, a pair of worn denim blue jeans and black Doc Martens.] [Thranton continues to walk down to the ring at a casual pace, seemingly apathetic to the reactions of the crowd or anything else going on around him. He removes his leather jacket and necklace as he reaches the ring, handing them to a ring attendant, and then climbs into the ring, stepping over the top rope. He then acknowledges the crowd with a mere nod of the head, then leans back into the turnbuckle. He throws his hair out of his eyes again as he waits for either the arrival of his opponent or the beginning of the match as his music dies out.] Jim Robson: Thranton is pumped!! Jack Anderson: He doesn't stand a chance. Jim Robson: Never say never Jack. Thranton is as good as either Travers or the Prophet... Jack Anderson: But he's not as good as both of them combined!! [Suddenly, The Alleluia Chorus from Handel's "Messiah" plays over the arena PA. The crowd EXPLODES in a massive volley of boos and jeers as the arena lights go out and a series of multicoloured crosses appear on the entranceway ramp. The music reaches a crescendo when a white-hot spotlight hits the entranceway and the Prophet appears, with the Choir-Master at his side. His blonde hair is worn down, past his shoulders and he wears a brightly coloured robe with "Prophet" written across the back in rhinestones. The Prophet has his classic grin on his face as he makes his way to the ring, trying to glad-hand with the fans, but the fans will have none of it. As he reaches the ring, The Choir-Master holds the ropes open for the Prophet. The Prophet climbs on the second turnbuckle and raises his arms, holding them out and fully acknowledging the boos and catcalls from the hostile crowd. He makes his way to the opposite corner and repeats the pose, to more boos and flash photography. He climbs down and removes his robe, to reveal a pair of long tights, their colour matching the robe he just removed, with "Prophet" written across the back and the legs and boots both sport crosses in black. His physique is well toned, not overly muscular but there is almost no body fat. The Prophet is a high-flyer but has a good technical background.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from The Bible Belt, standing 6 feet and 3 inches and weighing 240 pounds, here is ... THE PROPHET!!!!! Jack Anderson: Oh yeah! Time for a beating! Jim Robson: The Prophet is sort of staying back, keeping an eye or Jeremy Thranton. Jack Anderson: The champ is next!! FRANCINE: And his partner... [The crowd, as is customary for a Travers entrance, go strangely silent as they await the voice of Tricia Lane to say one of the two phrases that accompany a Travers entrance.] VOICE OF TRICIA LANE: In gold he's Epic!! In black... He's UNBEATABLE!! [There is a loud mixed pop as the lights in the arena fade to nothing and "Sad But True" by Metallica blasts through the sound system.] FRANCINE: Accompanied to the ring by his manager Tricia Lane... From Toronto, Ontario... He stands 6 feet, 2 inches tall, and weighs in at 267 pounds. Introducing... THE IWF/WOW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!!!! "E P I C" E R I C T R A V E R S ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! [The mixed pop becomes a cheer when Tricia Lane steps through the curtain in a tight black dress, with black heels, and her auburn hair stylishly tied up. She turns and waits and smiles as the mixed reaction from the crowd returns, and Eric Travers steps through the curtain and into the arena. Travers is dressed in his black wrestling gear, consisting of trunks, knee and elbow pads, and traditional boots. Travers also wears the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Title Belt around his waist. The look on Travers' face is one of intense focus, and his eyes have become fixed on something straight ahead of him, presumably the ring, and Thranton in particular. Travers walks past Lane, and begins to make his way down the aisle and to the ring. Lane follows closely behind, as Travers makes his way to the ring at a much quicker pace than normal, due to his complete lack of attention to the fans. Travers climbs the steps, as Tricia Lane walks around the corner of the ring beside the Choir Master. As Travers steps onto the apron, it is obvious his eyes are glued to Thranton. Travers climbs through the ropes and stands beside The Prophet, looking across the ring at their foe. Travers calmly unhooks the belt from his waist and hands it to the referee, the look on his face seemingly frozen there. The Prophet says something to Travers, who simply nods and says something back, but remains in a staredown with Thranton as he awaits the bell.] Jack Anderson: The World Champion is in the ring! Jim Robson: The fans are ready... Thranton, Prophet and Travers are ready. Jack Anderson: Get it on!! DING! DING! DING! Jim Robson: Here we go! Jack Anderson: It looks like the Prophet is going after Thranton! Jim Robson: Well, he's going to the left... but look at Travers. He's moving to the right. Smart thinking by both of them, seperating Thranton's attention. Jack Anderson: And it's going to work. Damn, they're genisus. Thranton is now going after the Prophet... Jim Robson: Here comes Travers... THRANTON MOVES AND TRAVERS RUNS RIGHT INTO THE PROPHET! Prophet falls to the mat, but Eric Travers is still on his feet. Thranton grabs Travers... MONSTER BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX! Jack Anderson: Ohh... when someone as big as Thranton gives you a belly to belly suplex, you know it's going to hurt - and hurt bad! Jim Robson: For sure. Thranton isn't letting up as he's picking Travers up. The referee is escorting the Prophet to the outside. Jack Anderson: Oh come on... why not let them both in the ring? Jim Robson: Yeah, because _that_ would be fair for Thranton. Jack Anderson: Fair shamre. Jim Robson: Thranton with an irish whip to send Eric Travers into the ropes... Travers bounces off... NO! He grabs a hold of the rope and slides under. Jack Anderson: Good move Eric... make Thranton come to you. Jim Robson: He's doing just that. Thranton is coming out right after Travers!! Jack Anderson: Watch out!! Jim Robson: Thranton to the outside... TRAVERS GRABS HIM BEFORE HE CAN GET OUT AND PULLS HIM DOWN!! THRANTON HITS THE STEEL GUARD RAIL!! Jack Anderson: My god! He hit and he hit hard! Jim Robson: Travers looks possesed. He is in his zone!! Jack Anderson: And when Eric Travers is in his zone, he is _unstoppable_!! Jim Robson: You're right there Jack. I don't recall Travers ever being defeated while in his zone. On the outside Travers has Thranton... he's bringing him over to the steel steps and.... *** SLAM!!! *** ... ohh... my god! Thranton hit those steel steps face first. That's gotta hurt!! Jack Anderson: He could have easily broken the nose of Jeremy Thranton from that hit. Man, you gotta love Travers! Jim Robson: He's not the most loved person in this arena right now, I can promise you that. Jack Anderson: But he's the one in control, and that's all that matters. Jim Robson: You are correct. Travers throws Thranton back inside the ring, and Travers gets back in the ring himself. Jack Anderson: This is where Travers can be the most dangerous... Jim Robson: He can be deadly in the ring. Eric Travers shoves Jeremy Thranton into the corner. Travers comes after him... HARD CHOP!! Crowd: WHOOO! Jim Robson: Again! Crowd: WHOOO! Jim Robson: And again! Crowd: WHOOO! Jim Robson: And one more time!! Jack Anderson: Yeah!! Crowd: WHOOO!! Jack Anderson: WHOOO!!! This is awesome! Jim Robson: Thranton falls to one knee. Travers is looking on. Jack Anderson: Don't forget!! Thranton's knee is in pretty bad shape! Jim Robson: Although it looks like Thranton's knee is pretty padded. Jack Anderson: It doesn't matter. That knee has given Thranton's problems for his entire career. It was only a couple years ago that it looked like his knee was going to force him to retire. Jim Robson: It did force him to retire... however it has healed enough that he was able to return to action, but with how Travers is looking at it... I think Travers is planning on trying to end his career again! Jack Anderson: It's possible! Here comes the Prophet. He's outside the ring, but he's going over to the corner that Travers and Thranton are in. Jim Robson: What's he going to do... it looks like... it looks like they're setting Thranton up... they want to smash his knee into the steel ring post!! Jack Anderson: And they're going to do just that!! Jim Robson: Travers is holding Thranton down on the mat so he can't get away... the Prophet has Thranton's leg.... HE SMASHES IT INTO THE STEEL RING POST!! Jack Anderson: Oh the carnage... this is amazing!! Jim Robson: Prophet with a big smile on his face. The referee is furious and is yelling at him... the Prophet is just ignoring him though. He winds up again... AND HE SMASHES IT HARD INTO THE POST ONCE AGAIN!! Jack Anderson: Yeah!! Jim Robson: The fans here are really getting on the back of the Prophet. They are not pleased at all. Jack Anderson: Who gives a damn about the fans! The Prophet doesn't need them... he doesn't need them at all! Jim Robson: Here comes the referee now. Jack Anderson: What does this fool want? Jim Robson: He's trying to make the Prophet get back into his corner! It's about time. Jack Anderson: Oh come on!! Give me a break. Jim Robson: Hold on... Jack Anderson: Oh yeah!!! Here comes the Choir-Master and Tricia Lane!! Jim Robson: What are they doing? Jack Anderson: The same thing the Prophet was... they have Thranton's leg... AND THEY SMASH IT INTO THE RING POST!! Jim Robson: The referee didn't see a thing! His back was turned as he was trying to get Thranton into his corner. Jack Anderson: It's all fair if the referee doesn't see you. Jim Robson: Travers is now pulling Jeremy Thranton to the centre of the ring. The Prophet is getting back in his corner, letting the referee get back in the ring. Jack Anderson: Travers is going for the cover! Jim Robson: Here is the count!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . [Big pop from the crowd!] . . . . . THRANTON THROWS TRAVERS OFF! Jack Anderson: WHAT!? Jim Robson: There is still a lot of fight left in Thranton. He isn't giving up that easily. Jack Anderson: What a kickout though... he gave new meaning to a kickout with authority. Jim Robson: He got the fans back into it as well... the fans are cheering Thranton on, trying to get him to his feet. Jack Anderson: Shhs... [yelling at a fan behind him] Shut up!! Jim Robson: Thranton is trying to get to his feet. Travers is going over to tag out to the Prophet. Choir-Master and Tricia Lane are cheering on Travers and the Prophet from the outside... you know... this isn't fair! It's more like four on one than two on one. Jack Anderson: Well, if that's true, with those idiot fans around here, it's more like twenty thousand on four. Is _that_ fair? Jim Robson: If the fans pay their money, they can do whatever they want. Jack Anderson: Yeah, right. You know, I wonder what Shane St. Clair thinks of this match. He doesn't get along with Thranton and would love to meet him in the ring, obviously, but I think Travers might be an easier opponent for him. Jim Robson: Good point... St. Clair is easily the larger of the two. Jack Anderson: Exactly! The Prophet is in the ring now... he's stomping on Thranton!! Jim Robson: Prophet now picks Thranton up and whips him into the ropes. Thranton bounces off... REVERSE ATOMIC DROP BY THE PROPHET!! Jack Anderson: Ohh... great move by the Prophet! Jim Robson: These two have had a bitter feud over the years. Jack Anderson: You're telling me. This goes back all the way to 1997. Back in the days of the Inner Circle and the Power Alliance. Now _that_ was one of the bitterest feuds of all time. [The Prophet backs Thranton into the corner, and whips him across the ring. Thranton hits the other side hard. He stands up with the help of the corner for a few moments, but after a few seconds the Prophet comes after him with a running dropkick, causing Thranton to fall to the mat.] Jim Robson: Good point, and it's still going on today between Thranton and the Prophet. The Prophet is still bitter over losing the WOW World Title to Jeremy Thranton back at the original WrestleFest in 1997. Some say the Prophet was never the same after that. [With Thranton down on that mat, the Prophet picks Thranton up, and drills him with a running bulldog.] Jack Anderson: Of course!! That was a big loss... one of the biggest losses of the Prophet's career. That was his first ever World title reign. But wouldn't it be amazing for the Prophet to get revenge tonight, and pin Jeremy Thranton, taking away _his_ chance at the title? Jim Robson: Of course Thranton could pin the Prophet once again to walk away with the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Championship. Jack Anderson: It'll never happen! Jim Robson: Thranton is now down on the mat. The Prophet goes off into the ropes... LIONSAULT!!! Jack Anderson: Outstanding move by the Prophet!! Jim Robson: The Prophet goes for the cover now... here is the count!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . KICKOUT!! Thranton still has a bit of energy left him in. Not much, but a little bit. Jack Anderson: The Prophet is now tagging out to Eric Travers. Travers gets back inside the ring as the Prophet picks Thranton up and holds him... Jim Robson: Here comes Travers... TRAVERS DRILLS THRANTON WITH A HARD SHOT TO THE FACE! Thranton falls flat to the mat. Jack Anderson: This match has been a total control by Eric Travers and the Prophet! This is outstanding! Jim Robson: Travers certainly has a huge smile on his face. He knows his team should have it locked up. Jack Anderson: And why not? Jim Robson: Travers is now going over to the corner. He's taking the turnbuckle off. Jack Anderson: This could spell trouble for Jeremy Thranton! Jim Robson: It could, for sure. Jack Anderson: Travers now coming back over to Thranton. He's laughing... look at the Prophet! He's getting a good chuckle at it too. Jim Robson: Ditto for Lane and the Choir-Master on the outside. Jack Anderson: Hahahahaha... look at Thranton now! He's grabbing Travers' leg! It looks like he is begging for mercy from the World Champion!! Jim Robson: I can assure you he's not... Jack Anderson: You never know with Thranton! Jim Robson: Travers is picking up Thranton. He's taking him over to the corner with the exposed turnbuckle... Jack Anderson: Oh no!! Poor Thranton!! Hahahahaha... yeah, "poor Thranton". Right. Jim Robson: Travers goes to smash Thranton into the steel corner... ***** MONSTER POP ***** Jack Anderson: NO!! Jim Robson: WAIT!!!!~! THRANTON REVERSES IT AND JAMS TRAVERS' FACE INTO THE STEEL BUCKLE!! TRAVERS FALLS TO THE MAT!! HE LOOKS LIKE HE IS UNCONCIOUS!! Jack Anderson: This is horrible! Jim Robson: Thranton stills looks really dazed. Prophet is going to come into the ring... he's going to the top turnbuckle!! Jack Anderson: This will teach Thranton!! Jim Robson: NO!! HOLD ON!! THRANTON IS MAKING IT OVER TO THE CORNER!! HE CATCHES THE PROPHET... HE HAS HIS GIANT HANDS AROUND THE PROPHET'S THROAT.... [ANOTHER _____MONSTER_____ POP!!!] CHOKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yeah!! It looks like Jeremy Thranton has his second wind, and he's coming on strong!! The fans are loving every minute of it too... Jack Anderson: This isn't fair!! This match belonged to the Prophet and Eric Travers!! Jim Robson: Not anymore! Jack Anderson: And worst of all, Eric Travers is still down and out on the otherside of the ring! He can't help his partner! Jim Robson: The Prophet is all alone with Jeremy Thranton... it's time for some payback! Prophet is looking pretty dazed himself inside the ring, and Thranton is going outside of the ring... what's he doing? Jack Anderson: He's getting a chair!! Now _this_ is cheating! Jim Robson: If you ask me, he's just evening up the odds. Thranton is setting up the Prophet's ankle inside the steel holding chair!! Jack Anderson: Oh no!! Stop him... STOP HIM!!!!!!! Jim Robson: Thranton is going to the second turnbuckle... HE JUMPS ON THE STEEL CHAIR!!! BY GOD!!! I DON'T KNOW HOW THE PROPHET IS GOING TO WALK AWAY MORE!! I think Jeremy Thranton has just taken the Prophet out of the picture. Jack Anderson: NO!! Jim Robson: And now Thranton can put all of his focus onto Eric Travers, and the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Title! Jack Anderson: _____NO!!!!_____ Jim Robson: Thranton pulls Travers into the centre of the ring... he's going for the pinfall!!!!!!!! The count... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . ========================================================================= IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 - IWF/WOW END OF THE WORLD 5 ========================================================================= END OF THE WORLD 5 CONTINUES IN PART 11!!! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.76 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . CHIOR-MASTER GETS INTO THE RING AND BREAKS UP THE COUNT USING HIS ROSARY BEADS!!! THE CHIOR-MASTER JUST SAVED ERIC TRAVERS' WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE!! Jack Anderson: Praise the lord!! Jim Robson: But he's not going to be able to do it anymore! The referee has just kicked up the Choir-Master and threw him out of the ring!! Jack Anderson: He can't do that... that referee can go to hell! Jim Robson: Oh my god... anything can happen here. This match is going to come down to the end, when every last little ounce of energy is beaten out of all three of these individuals. Jack Anderson: At the rate this match is moving, I'd venture to say that's going to be really soon! Jim Robson: I do believe your right. In fact, Thranton is going to try and put an end to it once again. He's going for the cover... the count!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [_HUGE_ POP!!!] . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . KICKOUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE KICKED OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jack Anderson: ___TRAVERS___ KICKED OUT!!!!!!! Jim Robson: This is unbelievable!! I thought Travers was completely unconscious!! Jack Anderson: Never count out the Champion!! He's still in it! Jim Robson: But maybe not for long... Thranton is getting to his feet... he's telling everyone here in GM Place that it's time for the Downward Spiral!! Jack Anderson: Oh no!! Jim Robson: No one kicks out of that!! Thranton has Travers picked up... ... .... [ANOTHER HUGE POP!!] DOWNWARD SPIRAL POWERBOMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE HIT IT! HE HIT IT! IT'S ALL OVER FOR ERIC TRAVERS!!! THIS TIME HE WON'T BE ABLE TO KICK OUT!!! Jack Anderson: Somebody help him....... Jim Robson: Here is the count... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.999999999 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . THE PROPHET MAKES THE SAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SWEET MOTHER OH LORD!! THE PROPHET IS STILL ALIVE AND MOVING AND HE JUST SAVED ERIC TRAVERS' WORLD TITLE!! Jack Anderson: WOW!! Jim Robson: Eric Travers has almost lost his title three times now, but he's managed to have luck on his side, and he's still in it. Jack Anderson: Luck? It's all talent! Remember what Travers said after him won the title at WrestleFest V... he's going to hold onto it until he retires, which will be November 1st, 2010! Jim Robson: Travers will be hard pressed to hold onto it that long! Jack Anderson: Never count a man out with the talent of the Epic one. _NEVER_! Jim Robson: Well, we have Thranton on his feet now. The Prophet is slowly getting to his feet as well, but it looks like he struggling. After what Thranton did to him earlier, I'm surprised he can walk at all. Jack Anderson: Same here... that was a devastating blow!! Jim Robson: NOW THRANTON AND THE PROPHET ARE GOING AT IT!! THEY ARE TRADING BLOWS IN THE CENTRE OF THE RING!! Where in the world are they getting this energy from?? Jack Anderson: I'm not sure... any normal man would be dead by now! Jim Robson: You mean like Travers? Jack Anderson: Eric isn't dead! He's just... unn... taking a quick break. Jim Robson: Jeremy Thranton is getting the upper hand.... WAIT!! HOLD ON!! THE PROPHET JUST KNEED THRANTON DOWN LOW!! Jack Anderson: Oh yeah! Way to take the advantage back! Jim Robson: Tricia Lane and the Choir-Master are cheering the Prophet on from the outside. Prophet with Thranton inside of the ring... REVERSE DDT BY THE PROPHET!! Jack Anderson: Yeah!! Now we're back to how we're supposed to be... with Jeremy Thranton down on his back, out of action! Jim Robson: Things are certainly looking a bit more up for the Prophet. Jack Anderson: Oh yeah... Thranton is slowly getting to his feet. Jim Robson: Here comes the Prophet! Jack Anderson: This is trouble for Thranton!! Jim Robson: ___NO___!!!! WAIT!! [BIG POP!!!] THRANTON CATCHES THE PROPHET!!! SPINEBUSTER SLAM BY JEREMY THRANTON!!! THE PROPHET IS DOWN!! THE PROPHET IS DOWN!!! Jack Anderson: _____________NO_____________!!! This is impossible! Jim Robson: It is possible. In fact, it is reality!! Thranton is going for the pin, and I think we have a new IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion! Here is the count..... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [suddenly, a rumble is heard through the crowd...] . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Who is that??? . . . . . . . . . . . . . Derrick DaMann???? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Elijah Flynt????? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . THIS MYSTERY MAN BREAKS THE COUNT!!! WHO THE HELL IS THAT!? GET SECURITY IN HERE!! Jack Anderson: _WAIT_! I know who that is... it's... no, it can't be! I thought Will Foster ran him out of here.... it's... it's.... ________________THE________________IDOL________________!!!! Jim Robson: Former IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion!? Jack Anderson: YES!! It's true! He's back in an IWF/WOW ring, and he just made the save for the Prophet!! Jim Robson: What is he doing here? Jack Anderson: I don't know... but my best guess is with Elijah Flynt suspended for god knows how long, Travers and the Prophet decided they needed an extra member to be the Trifecta once again... and they may have got him... it must be the Idol! Jim Robson: That must have been what Eric Travers was talking about on the preview show! Jack Anderson: I think you're right! Jim Robson: Thranton is on his feet, and he's looking at the Idol now... he is shocked! Thranton and the Idol never met in the ring, but there was always a little tension between the two... Jack Anderson: Good point... Jim Robson: WAIT!! THE PROPHET FROM BEHIND!! HE CLIPS THE KNEE OF JEREMY THRANTON!!! THE PROPHET COVERS THRANTON!!! HERE IS THE COUNT!!!!!!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ERIC TRAVERS JUMPS ON TOP TO HELP KEEP THRANTON DOWN!!! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DING! DING! DING! Jack Anderson: IT'S OVER!! Jim Robson: WHAT!?! Give me a break! Jack Anderson: Travers retains the title!! Jim Robson: Only after interference from the Idol! This match was give on one! Hardly a challenge for the Prophet and Travers... FRANCINE: Here are your winners of the match... E R I C T R A V E R S ! ! ! & T H E P R O P H E T ! ! ! ! Jack Anderson: Yeah!! Travers retains the title! Jim Robson: This is hardly fair... give me a break! Jack Anderson: Long live the champion!! Jim Robson: Tricia Lane, the Choir-Master, The Idol, the Prophet and Eric Travers are all celebrating in the ring! Thranton is down in the centre of the ring... they're yelling at Thranton! Jack Anderson: And with good reason... Thranton is a nobody! Get rid of the bum. Jim Robson: How can you say that... Thranton took the Prophet and Travers to the limit. It was nearly over several times, but the Prophet and Travers needed a little luck, and a lot of interference to walk away here tonight with the win. [On a split screen, we see a shot of Shane St. Clair watching on the monitor. He has a huge smile on his face, knowing that he will be getting a shot for the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Title.] Jack Anderson: And there is the man who will get a shot against Eric Travers!! Jim Robson: St. Clair versus Travers? That could get nasty… Jack Anderson: Especially with the new Trifecta, which now includes the Idol! Jim Robson: They could be unstoppable! [Inside the ring, all five men (Travers, Idol, Prophet, Lane and the Choir-Master) continues to celebrate in the ring.] Jack Anderson: Look at them… now that is greatness! Jim Robson: It sure it. Folks, we are out of time… we hope you enjoyed End of the World 5!! For Jack Anderson, I'm Jim Robson… we will see you later!!! [The scene slowly fades from the arena, as Travers stands on a turnbuckle, raising his arm, and the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Championship up in the air, victorious. The credits then come up on the screen, and the show finally completely fades.] .___ __ _____________ /\ __ __________ __ __ | / \ / \_ _____/ / / / \ / \_____ \/ \ / \ | \ \/\/ /| __) / / \ \/\/ // | \ \/\/ / | |\ / | \ / / \ // | \ / |___| \__/\ / \___ / / / \__/\ / \_______ /\__/\ / \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ (c) IWF/WOW Productions 2001 http://members.home.com/iwfwow/