[TV14 DSLV] [Brian Nelson and "Slick" Rick Baptist stroll through the loading dock of the Palace. Nelson wears his usual three-piece with black overcoat. Rick wears his usual all-black suit, but this time he's sporting a a black-and-white checkered tie. They're dressed to the hilt and spirits are high.] BAPTIST: Nelson, I'm so glad this election thing is going to be over with tonight. It's ludacris that people are even _thinking_ about removing you! God! I don't want to have try and be the EWA booker extraordinaire reporting to a freaking homo! We gotta keep your office straight, dog. NELSON: Thanks, Rick. It's been a long and winding road since November Pain, but I've come this far. I just hope the boys realize what you do. That Brian Nelson only wants what's best for the I-Slash. BAPTIST: Brian Nelson _is_ what's best for the I-Slash. Period. [Rick looks down and takes a few strides before missing the sound of Nelson's footsteps. He peers over his shoulder and sees Nelson standing still, staring straight ahead. Rick turns back and cranes his neck.] BAPTIST: My God ... is it him? [Nelson nods. We transition to a shot of a limo idling near the entrance.] BAPTIST: Wha-- What does he want? [Cut back to Nelson. Rotting with glee.] NELSON: What's his. [The camera constricts around Baptist's face, a concoction of bliss and concern.] [Fade.] ##### # ####### ### / ###### / / ### ### #/ /# / / / ## ## ## / / / ## # ## ## / / ### ## ## ## ## ## ### ## /### /### ## /## ## ## ### ### ## / ### / / #### / ## / ### /### ## ### ### ## / ###/ ## ###/ ##/ ### / ### ## ### /## ## ## ## #### ## ## ## ## #/ /## ## ## ## ### ## ## ## ## ## #/ ## ## ## ## ### ## ## ### # / # / ## ## ## ### ## ## ### / /## / ## ## /# /### ## ## ## #####/ / ########/ ### / ####/ ## / #### / ## ## ### / ##### ##/ ### ## ###/ ## ## | / \) / _ \ | | | __| _ \ __| _ \ __ \ __| __| ___/ | __/\__ \ __/ | | | \__ \ _| _| \___|____/\___|_| _|\__|____/ _)_)_) [A dim, lightly golden beam crawls across the screen, and briefly, the silver I-Slash logo.] [We're glossing over a wooden surface peeking through a mess of photos. Some black and white. Some in color. All distant memories. Nate McMannis with future wife Rachel at the senior prom -- A pre-teen Justin Arcola with a playful headlock on his younger brother -- The childhood Maverick blowing out the candles on his birthday cake] # Imagine there's no heaven # It's easy if you try # No hell below us # Above us only sky [Nine year old Gunnar Gaines opening a Christmas present at his father's feet -- A teenage Matthew Reason sitting beneath a tree, holding a cigarette -- Paul Kiljoy, Darius, and the late James Kiljoy leaning into the camera with their arms around one another -- John Revere as a proud color guard during a school assembly] # Imagine all the people # Living for today [A teenage Eric Travers at a bowling alley, teaching a pre-Tricia Lane conquest how to roll -- A slightly chubbier, but bulky, Shane St. Clair bench pressing an obscene amount of weight in the high school football team training facility -- A blonde Trevor Storm with the blow-dried Adam Curry do, sporting a Guns n' Roses t-shirt] # Imagine there's no countries # It isn't hard to do # Nothing to kill or die for # No religion too [Six year old Cooper Concrete playing with his toy bulldozer in the front yard -- Steve Spector's freshman yearbook picture -- Ten year old Mack Ensassarol, flashing an earlier version of the "Stupid Goofy Grin" -- Teenage Echo Dare at Mardi Gras] # Imagine all the people # Living life in pea-ea-ea-ea ... [Slow it down] ........ eeeeaaaaaa ....... [We see the I-Sore. Patches of generic ice cling to the frame. Ice-sickles from across the top and bottom, many of them with a dark red tint to the points.] !!@#!! BOOM !!#@!! !!@#!! BOOM !!#@!! !!@#!! BOOM !!#@!! !!@#!! BOOM !!#@!! !!@#!! BOOM !!#@!! !!@#!! BOOM !!#@!! ,-_/ ,-,-. ' | ` | | .^ | | |-. `--' ,' `-' ,--. ,,--. , .-,--. | `-' |`, | ) ' | \ | . | | / , | / `--' `---' `--' `-^--' ,-,---. , ,,--. ,,--. .-,--. |___/ ) |`, | |`, | ' | \ , | \ / | | | | , | / `-^---' `--' `---' `---' `-^--' February 23rd, 2003 Palace of Auburn Hills Auburn Hills, MI [Pillars of red climb to the roof as a shower of white embers descend. The camera sweeps across thousands of super charged I-Slash fans. Some of the signs that make it on camera read ... ] "I-SLASH!!!! I-SLASH!!!!" "I-SLASH!!!! I-SLASH!!!!" "I-SLASH!!!! I-SLASH!!!!" "I-SLASH!!!! I-SLASH!!!!" OA: WE WELCOME YOU TO AUBURN HILLS, MICHIGAN!! WE WELCOME YOU TO THE _PALACE_ OF AUBURN HILLS!! THE I-SLASH PRESENTS TO YOU ... ... I N ... C O L D ... B L O O D ! ! ! [Ambrose and Crane sit behind the broadcast table, both in their own version of formal attire. Ambrose in his traditional tuxedo and Crane sporting some pretty GQ threads of his own.] OA: I'm Owen Ambrose! Alongside me as always is my broadcast colleague, Cordell Crane, and we are FINALLY here in the Palace of Auburn Hills, where the most important culmination of events in the storied history of this company will unravel! First and foremost on the minds of everyone has to be the decision that will directly affect every facet of the I-Slash! It's _election day_, Cordell. CC: And this race is tighter than Queen Latifa in a size two! Here, I'll tell you why. On Graphic Nature, Nelson gave Justin Arcola just enough rope to hang himself. He challenged him to PROVE that he's been infected with the HIV virus, but once again all Justin did was prey upon the human nature of Nelson and everyone else in the building. OA: He also preyed upon Nelson's bladder if I remember correctly. CC: Shush! He proved NOTHING but the fact that Brian Nelson is a man who doesn't take unneccesary risks, and if these fans don't want to take one either, they'll vote for the man who put the I-Slash on the level it is today. The man who had the courage to challenge the word of Justin Arcola. OA: Folks, tonight is one of the most monumental nights in our company's history. Tell us how it works, Cordell? CC: The fans called in their popular votes via a 1-900 number for the wrestler they wanted to cast a ballot the most, and 100 electoral votes were assigned to each superstar in proportion to the popular votes they received. Here's how the electors break down: [A graphic appears on the screen.] Superstar Electoral Votes ---------------- --------------- Razor Ron Jeremy 10 Nate McMannis 9 Paul Kiljoy 9 Eric Travers 8 Matthew Reason 7 Maverick 7 Shane St. Clair 6 Gunnar Gaines 6 Trevor Storm 6 Mack Ensassarol 5 Hades 5 Chris Shannon 4 Fabian Cruz 3 Cooper Concrete 3 Jayson 3 Dagger 2 Echo Dare 2 Cardiac 1 "Vile" Vince Viper 1 Jeff Matthews 1 Johnny "Cool" Coles 1 The Extremist 1 * All other superstars were either ineligible due to administrative conflicts or received less than 1% of the popular vote. OA: You can see that the recently injured Razor Ron Jeremy still commanded an overwhelming majority of the popular votes, and he's followed closely behind by the World Champion Paul Kiljoy and all three members of the Trifecta. Some other big names like Shane St. Clair, Matthew Reason, and Gunnar Gaines also command a lot of weight in this election. CC: The first man to get 51 of the 100 electoral votes will win. And as you can see, there's a solid Arcola voting bloc close to the top of the list. But will that be enough to tip the vote in his favor? What kind of surprises will we be seeing tonight? OA: We'll be checking in all night on the vote in progress. That aside, we've got another mystery to solve. Just who is in that limousine in the loading dock? Who in the world could be veiled behind those tinted windows that would draw a reaction like that from "Slick" Rick Baptist and Brian Nelson? CC: I shudder to think. OA: More on that shortly. The IWF/WOW World Championship will be decided within the confines of the Slash n' Burn! "Legacy" Paul Kiljoy and "Suicidal" Nate McMannis will sort out nearly half a year of competitiveness, hatred, bitterness, and some say _love_ inside the very first match of it's kind. CC: You saw the cage lowered down on the sternum of Kiljoy on Graphic Nature, and that was just a fleeting glimpse. Those two will be INSIDE that octagon, threaded with razor wire, fire and lighter fluid at their disposal. Hot coals, Ambrose! Glass and glue! AND SHARKS WITH FRICKIN' LAZER BEAMS ATTATCHED TO THEIR HEADS! OA: Don't trust this man, fans. Also on the bill tonight, Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines and Matthew Reason settle the score, once and for all, in an Alaskan Death Match! One of the most renowned and talked about matches of all time, and a one of a kind, making it's debut in the I-Slash! CC: I've seen this match, Owen. It's Gunnar's specialty, and if he's ever lost one, it's been under dubious means. Don't let the entertainment value of the match fool you. There aint enough alcohol in the building to make this one pretty. OA: So much more to get to tonight. "Epic" Eric Travers defends the EWA Heavyweight Championship against Mack Ensassarol and Steve Spector. Maverick and Trevor Storm will find themselves caught between Life and Death! Infinite Justice defends the tag team championship against the Stone Foundation and the Men In Black, but I'm being told there's some controversy already surrounding that match. More on that as the evening progresses. CC: Sounds to me like Jillian Marie McCormick has let winning that contest get to her head. OA: You think she's involved? I don't know. We'll also see, possibly the most unlikely IWF/WOW Intercontinental Champion in years, "Vile" Vince Viper defending the belt in what you might as well call a handicap match against two members of the Greater Good. Cooper Concrete and "Lethal Injection" Chris Shannon. CC: Don't be naive. If it comes down to it, Coop and TLI will hammer it out. Not for themselves, but for the GREATER GOOD! OA: Later on Echo Dare and Cardiac take on the Killing Machines in a bounty match that's been escalating since the appearance of Farhope. Cardiac has something he wants. We'll see if the Machines can help him collect tonight. Right now I'm hearing that Anthony Edwards has caught up with Steve Spector. Let's get comments from one of the two EWA title challengers tonight. [We go backstage to outside of Steve Spector's locker room, where Anthony Edwards is standing by with Spector.] AE: I'm here backstage with one of the three competitors tonight in the 45 minute iron man matchup, Steve Spector. [Spector nods his head.] AE: Spector, you heard what Mack Ensassarol had to say about you on Graphic Nature.. and you responded to him on Trashtalk. You say that tonight, you're going to cram 6 years of pain and frustration in 45 minutes and take it out on him. SS: He's gonna have to learn somehow, Anthony. [Edwards nods.] SS: Tonight is the night that Ensassarol finally grows up and becomes a man. He's had it too easy for too long.. he's gonna have to learn just how cruel wrestling can be to a man.. I'm gonna expose him to the "Three Phases of Pain".. the three worst things I've ever had to go through in my life. It's the only way I can teach Mack how to be a man. He's gonna see what horrors this business and any bloodthirsty opponents may unleash on him tonight. It's no secret, Edwards.. that I'm starting to break down. I've tried for a long time to keep up this front here in the Slash.. but my back's hurtin'.. it's a jumbled mass of spinal cord all out of place and torn muscles.. and one wrong move can cost me the use of my legs for life. I'm gonna have to have surgery on this thing... and in the meantime I'm just tryin' to tie up loose ends. I'm also tryin' to teach any wide-eyed youngsters that think this business is an easy way to a paycheck that this isn't a fantasy world. I'm the 'real' world, Mack.. AE: Tie up loose ends? [Spector nods.] SS: I don't have much time left, I think. If I do get the surgery.. I could be gone for.. I don't know. [Spector lowers and shakes his head.] SS: I have to win the match tonight.. Anthony. I have to do something I've never done in my career, even if the EWA is dead, and the legacy is being tarnished each and every second that belt is around with no real worth. The belt doesn't mean anything.. except to me. It's the final thing I need to do here.. the final piece of the puzzle before I can call it a career. Mack has to learn what I go through, Anthony. I've been committed.. even with sickos tryin' to kill me.. with promoters promising me one thing and givin' it to people that didn't deserved anything in an inter-federation tournament watched by millions.. people.. friends stabbin' me in the back out of greed.. everything I'm goin' through I'm gonna take out on him and Travers in that ring tonight.. Travers, at least understands, somewhat. Mack.. doesn't. Tonight, he will.. and tonight I will see once and for all how committed he is to wrestling. [Edwards nods slowly.] AE: Also, the current EWA Champion, Eric Travers.. you two have had a strange relationship over the past few weeks. You're opponents tonight, and yet you two didn't seem to have much in the way of runins.. was it a respect thing? [Spector nods.] SS: He already knows I respect him and wouldn't do anything to screw him, unless it was.. accidental. [Spector smirks.] SS: I already had said on Trashtalk that I'm willin' to do what it takes to win tonight. Well.. listenin' to me just now.. sayin' that I pretty much have to win this thing tonight.. kinda confirms the way I feel. I'm not gonna play fair or lie down for him tonight. I might offer my hand to him once this match is over, but for 45 minutes.. if I have to play dirty to win.. I'll do it. I just hope he can understand. AE: One last question.. SS: Shoot.. [Edwards clears his throat.] AE: If you win the match tonight.. what's next? [Spector pauses to ponder the question.] SS: Well.. Anthony.. you're going to have to see. Travers... Ensassarol. See you in the ring. [Spector walks past Edwards as Edwards faces the camera.] AE: There you have it, guys, Steve Spector sounds like he's ready and willing to do whatever it takes to win the EWA World Title tonight. Back to you. [Ringside.] CC: I wish he'd learn to control his rage. OA: Steve Spector has got to be one of the most mild mannered people I've ever met. A real class act. CC: HE'S A LOOSE CANNON, AMBROSE! OA: I wouldn't go that far, but it does make you wonder just how wound up he inside, and what he might do if pushed too far, but tonight all he cares about is that EWA Heavyweight Championship. A belt he feels means more to him than anyone else. CC: You might want to ask Baptist about that. OA: I'd rather not. What I'd rather do is hand it over to Francine so we can get the action underway. BOUNTY MATCH comin' atcha, folks! ]=========[BOUNTY MATCH]=========[ ,-_/ ,-,-. ,--. ,,--. , .-,--. ' | ` | | | `-' |`, | ) ' | \ .^ | | |-. | . | | / , | / `--' ,' `-' `--' `---' `--' `-^--' ,-,---. , ,,--. ,,--. .-,--. |___/ ) |`, | |`, | ' | \ , | \ / | | | | , | / `-^---' `--' `---' `---' `-^--' ECHO DARE & CARDIAC vs. THE KILLING MACHINES ]===============[ Writer: Ameet Nagpal FRANCINE: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! It is a BOUNTY MATCH! [POP!!] FRANCINE: Introducing first ... ["Enter Sandman" by Metallica begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd cheers loudly.] FRANCINE: Accompanied to me ring by Farhope ... from New York, New York ... at a combined weight of five-hundred and five pounds, here are OVERKILL and DEMOLISHER ... ... T H E K I L L I N G M A C H I N E S ! ! ! [Overkill and Demolisher slowly walk to the ring, looking forward with purpose. They are wearing matching sunglasses, black leather biker jackets, gloves, boots, and tights. As they enter the ring, they remove their jackets and shades. Demolisher raises his right fist in the air, and Overkill climbs to the top of the nearest turnbuckle, raising both index fingers in the air as the crowd cheers. "Enter Sandman" dissipates as the Killing Machines stare in the direction of their opponents.] OA: Farhope is hoping to collect the contents of the bag that Cardiac allegedly abducted from his Soviet employers. Certainly a strange and complex situation, but one that's captivated the imagination of the entire I-Slash. In fact, I'm told Echo and Cardiac have a few things to get off their chest before coming out. [Camera shot: Green hair.] OA: Yep, I know which one that is. [CROWD POP!!! It's Echo Dare! The image zooms out slowly, and the back of Echo Dare's head is seen. Then, the rest of him, with the sinister figure of Cardiac beside him.] Echo Dare: Bonjour, AMERICA!!! [CHEAP POP!!!] ED: Three seconds. Dats all it will take. After months of punishment at de hands of Les Killing Machines, after all de running around, after screwing wit' each others matches, and setting de tag team division on fire once again in de process, _this_ is what it all comes down to. Three seconds. [Cardiac cracks his knuckles.] ED: Are we afraid of you, Overkill, Demolisher? Perhaps. Those performance-enhancing drugs of yours certainly pack a wallop. Certainly you've changed our gameplan. I suppose we'll be playing dis defensively, just like those Pistons-- [I LOVE THIS GAME POP!!!] ED: But Cardiac will be taking care of dat. Me? I'm just here to have fun. Like last week on Nature: Overkill, I'm going to _enjoy_ putting once again Your Ass Through Glass!!! ["HARDCORE? WE LIKE!" POP!] ED: Those drugs we're weary off. Dats cool. I ain't no Matt Murdock, I have fear. But in de end, dats what'll make what I'm going to do tonight _special_, because I'm going to rise above that, and take what's mine. The _FUTURE_. MACHINES! We are _not_ afraid of your reputation, of your legacies. The DSC had a legacy. Dork Bishop and Meaty Macaroni had legacies. But where are they now? Legacies are for de _dead_! And me and Cardiac over here... this is our first pay-per-view, believe it or not. CARDIAC: Maybe it is you who should fear us, for what we represent. We are the inevitable, we are tomorrow. Like all old things, The Machines are history, they're meant to be remembered, instead of pitied. But that's all you'll get from me. Farhope, after I lay waste to all your great work, you will know just how wrong you were in coming after me. Dare and I will only have five minutes alone with you, but that will be enough, mercenary, to take from you whatever humanity you have left. [Echo finally turns to face the camera. He has some war paint etched on his face. Crowd pop, oc course!] ED: Three seconds. Une. Deux. Trois. And dat will be dat. I will _die_ for those three seconds, Farhope! Everything, Always, Now, baby. I will make you _BELIEVE_!!! [Back to the ring.] dub-dub dub-dub dub-dub dub-dub dub-dub dub-dub [~The sound of the heartbeat signals the beginning of the end~ ] # where do I taaake this pain of miiine? # [Cheers resound around the ring as the rest of "Until It Sleeps" by Metallica is played. The arena lights dim, as an eerie red light softly illuminates the pathway from the entrance ramp to the ring. The crowd pops even louder when the man called Cardiac steps out from beneath the I-Sore. He stands motionless, _e_motionless, for a moment.] FRANCINE: Now making his way to the ring, weighing in at 260 pounds ... ... C A R D I A C ! ! ! [The crowds continue their cheering as the masked figure methodically heads toward the ring. His black trenchcoat is partially open, revealing the black tanktop, spandex tights, and boots underneath. Cardiac stands still in the middle of the ring when--] # THERE'S EVERY GOOD REASON--! # [EEEE-NORMOUS POP!!!] FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH! [Three fireballs erupt in rapid succession from the I-Sore! The crowd is going ballistic now as "Never Let You Go" by Third Eye Blind plays on! Through the smoke, the man called Echo Dare leaps onto the stage! Echo is dressed in white short tights and tassled boots, with green knee, elbow, and wrist bandages, echoing his green hair and headband.] FRANCINE: Aaaand his tag team partner, weighing in at 240 pounds, ... E C H O [CROWD: "ECHOOOOOO000000oooooo!!!!"] ... D A R E ! ! ! [Adrena Lyn Rusch, his valet, materializes beside him, with Monkey perched on her shoulder. "The New Rhythm" runs down the ramp at full throttle as confetti rains down from the rafters. He hops up to the apron, looks back at the audience, flashes his Signature Smile, then leaps into the ring.] # I'LL NEVER LET YOU GO! # # I'LL NEVER LET YOU GO! # [Cardiac and Echo eye each other cautiously. Echo raises himself up on a turnbuckle, forming his hand into the shape of a gun. He pumps it to the air twice as the music cuts off abruptly.] DING! DING! CC: And it appears that Echo Dare and Overkill will be starting this one off... these guys have had an _especially_ wicked hatred for each other in recent weeks. OA: I am pretty confident that Echo Dare has started taking these attacks by Overkill and Demolisher personally, especially those from Overkill... it's going to be interesting to see how this one turns out. [Overkill and Dare go into a collar and elbow tie-up... Dare immediately switches into a side headlock, but Overkill hoists him up and drops him to the canvas with a big belly-to-back suplex. The crowd responds accordingly.] CC: That's a _big_ high impact move _very_ early in the match! OA: Overkill picked up Dare like a baby, Cordell! [Overkill picks Dare up and rams him face-first into the corner. He pushes Dare's arms against the ropes, exposing his chest, and delivers a _massive_ knife-edged chop to the upper body!] OA: Big chop from Overkill, and he follows with an Irish whip, no, reversal by Dare... Dare follows into the corner... _big_ lariat on the Killing Machine! [Dare turns to the crowd and roars with excitement after the big lariat in the corner. He turns back to his foe... ... who simply grabs Dare by the throat and delivers a sitting chokeslam! Heel pop!] CC: Did you see that, Owen?! Overkill didn't even _feel_ the lariat! OA: Overkill didn't even _respond_ to that maneuver, you're right! Overkill makes the tag and in comes the Demolisher! CC: This man is flat out _scary_, Owen. [The crowd buzzes as Demolisher climbs into the ring. Farhope stands on the outside of the ring, screaming at his man to destroy Dare. Demolisher reaches down to grabs Dare, but he manages to climb through the big man's legs and to his corner, to make the tag to Cardiac! Pop!] OA: In comes Cardiac! This match is only a few minutes old and already Dare has taken so much abuse! Cardiac jumps through the ropes and he delivers a big right to the face of Demolisher! And a second! A third! [The crowd is popping big with Cardiac's offense!] CC: Wait a minute! [Heel pop! Demolisher catches Cardiac's fist on the fourth attempt and squeezes at it. Cardiac lets out a painful scream as he drops to his knees... Demolisher continues squeezing at the hand, laughing at the Russian at his mercy.] OA: And the Demolisher delivers a big knee to the gut of Cardiac! Cardiac falls to the ground and, Cordell... it appears that nothing is really phasing the Killing Machines tonight! Maybe they really _are_ on the A2! CC: Nonsense, Owen! Farhope just has his men prepared, and it's obvious that Cardiac and Echo Dare are _not_! OA: Well he _better_ have his men ready, because if he doesn't, Cardiac and Echo Dare are gonna have their way with him! [Demolisher grins as he measures Cardiac who is getting to his feet... Cardiac uses the ropes to his advantage and is up... but is quickly dropped with a big clothesline, which sends Cardiac head over heels! Heel pop! He drags the Russian to his feet and brings him towards his own corner. The tag is made and in comes Overkill... Demolisher holds Cardiac's arm in the air and Overkill delivers a boot right to the exposed midsection.] OA: Echo Dare and Cardiac have certainly come a long way as a tag team, Cordell... but these two men, the Killing Machines... they are a _formidable_ tag team, and they work so well together. Still, I can't believe that Cardiac and Dare have been _dominated_ like this so far! CC: It's definitely true that they've started working very well together... but the fact is that these Killing Machines are a well-oiled _unit_, and they are dismantling these two. OA: Overkill now has Cardiac up, and he sends him across the ring... Overkill off of the ropes, goes for the backdrop, leap frog by Cardiac! Both men off the ropes again, this time Cardiac ducks a clothesline! They hit the ropes one more time, Cardiac goes down to the canvas, Overkill goes over him, Cardiac's back up, Overkill runs in... [_BIG_ POP!] OA: ... RYDEEN BOMB! CARDIAC JUST DROPPED OVERKILL WITH A BIG TIME RYDEEN BO -- [BOO THAT MAN!] CC: WHAT?! OVERKILL POPPED RIGHT BACK UP! [Cardiac turns around and Overkill hoists him in the air, driving him into the mat with a vicious spinebuster!] OA: _GOODNIGHT_! CC: That was one helluva spinebuster, Owen! OA: Overkill goes for the cover! ONE! TWO! Cardiac kicks out! [Pop!] CC: These men really _are_ Killing Machines! OA: There's no possible way that any human being could've just _gotten up_ after that Rydeen bomb! These two men are on the A2, that _same_ drug, the Androgen, that Shane St. Clair was on two years ago! This is a biologically enhancing drug and Echo Dare and Cardiac are at a distinct disadvantage because of it, Cordell! CC: And hell... even if they are, doesn't that mean that Farhope gets his bag back? [The camera quickly gets a shot of the bag, which is at the timekeeper's table.] OA: Overkill is bringing Cardiac back to his feet, and he throws him into the corner... [Overkill bends over and _drives_ his right shoulder into the midsection of Cardiac... and another... and another. Cardiac sinks to the bottom of the ringpost area, clutching his gut.] CC: These men are simply _brutalizing_ the international tag team of Dare and Cardiac... and I don't see things turning around! OA: Unfortunately, neither do I... these men are simply unphasable! [Overkill nonchalantly makes his way to the opposite corner. He runs at Cardiac, extending his legs for a big time dropkick right to the face! POP! Cardiac rolls out of the way and Overkill bangs his feet right against the ringpost, hitting the canvas!] OA: _That_ finally stopped Overkill! It took that much effort, but one of these men is finally grounded, and he did it to himself! [The camera catches Cardiac reaching into his tights, but the commentators simply talk over it.] CC: Overkill really might've done damage to his knees with that collision! OA: He definitely may have, and Farhope is literally _screaming_ at ringside! Overkill's back on his fee -- WHAT IN THE HELL?! [Cardiac produces a syringe, which he plunges deep into the thigh of Overkill! Overkill absolutely _yelps_ in agony as Cardiac removes the needle and tosses it out of the ring. Overkill clutches his thigh and positions himself in the corner of the ring.] CC: WHAT IN THE HELL WAS THAT?! OA: CARDIAC JUST INJECTED OVERKILL WITH SOMETHING! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! [Cardiac crawls to his corner and makes the tag in to Echo Dare. The crowd pops big time as Dare jumps over the top-rope, scurries towards his man, and begins throwing rights and lefts to the temples of 'Kill.] OA: RIGHT! LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! Echo Dare's using Overkill as a punching bag! CC: Why have these two not been DQ'ed?! Did the referee not see what the hell just happened?! OA: It looks like referee Geoff Cartwright was on the other side of the action as Cardiac drove that syringe into Overkill's thigh! But whatever he injected him with has really had an effect, because Overkill is actually feeling the effect's of Dare's wrath! CC: And let's not forget that there's no love lost between Echo Dare and Overkill specifically! Dare's gonna's try to do all he can to take down this guy! [Dare Irish whips Overkill and follows right behind him... Overkill hits the turnbuckle and Dare immediately hits him with a big time lariat, this time stunning the Killing Machine. He brings Overkill towards the center of the ring, grabbing onto his head.] OA: Overkill is out on his feet it looks like here... he's really weakened up since Cardiac drove _whatever_ that liquid was into his thigh! [Echo drops his opponent with a wicked face plant. He then goes to the outside. He stands by the ropes, looking at the crowd, which goes NUTS! They _know_ what's coming! Dare flashes the Signature Smile!] CC: Aw naw, not this move again...! [Echo grabs the ropes, leaps, executes a perfect handstand, then _drops_ like a ball on his opponent!] OA: _SEX_ BOMB_! _SEX_ BOMB_! [The crowd FRENZIES!!!! Trademark Move POP! Dare covers his man. ONE!! TWO!! SHOULDER UP! The crowd groans.] OA: Overkill was able to get his shoulder up! CC: There's a lot more fight in the Killing Machines, Owen! And, yes... whatever liquid just entered Overkill's bloodstream probably slowed down the A2, but I tell ya what... Demolisher's still on that stuff, and if he gets back into the ring, these guys might not have the same luck with him! OA: But if Demolisher _doesn't_ get back in the ring and Overkill isn't able to fight back here... Echo Dare and Cardiac might be getting their five minutes alone with Farhope! [Dare makes the tag and Cardiac re-enters the ring, now reinvigorated. Dare holds Overkill's chest exposed and Cardiac buries his fist deep in his man's gut. He grabs 'Kill by the side and drops him with a Russian legsweep. He covers him... ONE!! TWO!! Overkill kicks out, not to much fanfare. Cardiac hoists him and puts his weight down on him, applying a headlock.] CC: Cardiac is choking this man! Check 'im, ref! OA: He very well may be... Cardiac isn't exactly known as a guy that toes the line. [Cardiac drives his knee in between Overkill's shoulderblades before releasing the hold. He brings Overkill up and twists his arm, bringing him in for a short clothesline... Overkill ducks under it, turns around, and knocks Cardiac down with a spinning heel kick! Heel pop!] CC: That was just what Overkill needed! Now he can make the tag to Demolisher and the A2... I mean, the skill of the Killing Machines can really kick in! [Overkill is close enough to his corner after landing that he's able to reach out and make the hot tag to Demolisher. Demolisher enters the ring and immediately goes for Cardiac. Cardiac punches the man, but to no avail. He tries a clothesline, and Demolisher simply shrugs it off. The big man grabs Cardiac around the neck and drives him through the mat with a uranage!] CROWD: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! [Demolisher goes for the cover. ONE!! TWO!! kickout! Demolisher stands, grinning... and motions to Echo Dare... who uncharacteristically drops off of the apron and goes under the ring. Demolisher goes after him.] CC: Echo Dare's running away! He's a coward, Owen... a coward I tell you! OA: This isn't like him at all... and Adrena Lyn Rusch is trying to stop him... this woman has been so loyal to Echo -- CROWD: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! OA: That's _awful_! He just threw Rusch right to the floor! [Meanwhile, Dare has appeared on the other end of the ring, and he slides into the ring holding onto what appears to be a glass pane.] CC: This isn't a no disqualification match, Owen! He can't just bring a pane of God damned glass into the ring! OA: He has Cordell... and I say _GOOD_! If these men can pump up on that drug and be virtually invincible, _why_not_ bring a big pane of glass into the squared circle! [Demolisher looks back up into the ring and slides in. Overkill grabs onto Dare from behind, who turns and receives a double axehandle from Demolisher. He drops the glass on the ground. Demolisher turns him around.] CC: Great teamwork there! Overkill distracted Dare, and Demolisher was able to take advantage! [Demolisher grabs at Dare, but Dare sidesteps and grabs Demolisher in a headlock. He turns him over into a neckbreaker position and...] CROWD: ___BANG___!!! [_DROPS_ him onto the glass! He picks him up once more and again!] CROWD: ___BANG___!!! [[[[[[ SSSMMMAAASSSHHH ]]]]]] [A second neckbreaker, this one right on top of the glass pane! The pane shatters as Demolisher sits up, the back of his head completely and utterly lacerated!] OA: DOUBLEDARE! DOUBLEDARE RIGHT ON TOP OF THE GLASS PANE! CC: WHY IS THIS MAN NOT DISQUALIFIED! OA: I guess Cartwright's thinking that he didn't intentionally use it! CC: ARE YOU KIDDING?! HE BROUGHT THE DAMN THING INTO THE RING! [Dare rolls over for the cover! ONE!! TWO!! Overkill makes the save with a boot to the back of the head!] OA: I guess the referee has just lost control, because Dare wasn't even the legal man, but he made the count anyway! Now Cardiac's up and he throws himself at Overkill, driving him back into the corner! He's throwing a barrage of fists at him! CC: Dare's dragging Demolisher up and he's beating him into the opposite corner... these men are _finally_ losing their energy! OA: Dare and Cardiac are coming together here and they're giving it all they got! [The two men ready their opponents and whip them into each other. The Killing Machines collide, sending Demolisher right over the top-rope! Overkill steadies himself, somehow staying on his feet... he stumbles towards Echo Dare, who runs to him and drops him with a Thesz Press! Pop!] CC: This is double teaming! Get one of these guys out of the ring! [Cardiac brings Overkill up... and drops him with an implant DDT! Pop! Demolisher climbs back into the ring, and Dare immediately scales the ropes... Demolisher turns... <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> ... GOOD GOD, MISSLE DROPKICK!] OA: GOOD GOD, MISSLE DROPKICK! [Demolisher eats the dropkick and winds up going right over the top-rope once more! Cardiac hoists up Overkill again, and lifts him for an inverted atomic drop... he plants his knee right into Demolisher's tailbone! Demolisher lunges forward holding onto his posterior... and Dare nails him with a leg lariat right to the forehead! Big pop!] OA: These two men are on an absolute _ROLL_! CC: Demolisher really hit the guardrail hard after he got knocked out of the ring by Dare's springboard dropkick, it doesn't look like he's getting up any time soon! Somebody's gotta get Overkill some help! [Cardiac brings Overkill up to his feet... and he readies him for a Russian legsweep... while Dare positions himself at the other end of the ring. Dare gets a headstart and runs towards Overkill, while Cardiac begins dropping his man with the legsweep... <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> Dare drives his shoulder into Overkill with a bigtime spear on the way down! FINISHER POP!] OA & CC: THE BITCH'S FATE! [Cardiac rolls over and covers Overkill. Demolisher jumps onto the apron, but Dare meets him there and hits him with a big forearm that knocks him off. Geoff Cartwright gets into position... ONE!! TWO!! THREE!!!!! DING! DING! DING! OA: IT'S OVER! DARE AND CARDIAC GET FIVE MINUTES WITH FARHOPE! FRANCINE: Here are your winners ... ["Never Let You Go" plays.] ... E C H O D A R E ! ! ! and ... C A R D I A C ! ! ! [POP!] FRANCINE: Echo Dare and Cardiac will now get five minutes in the ring... alone with Farhope! [_HUGE_ POP!] CC: LOOK AT FARHOPE! [Farhope approaches the ringside table and grabs the mysterious bag! He runs into the crowd and away from the ring. Cardiac frantically exits the ring and chases Farhope through the crowd, up into the rafters.] OA: Farhope's running away! He's getting out of his five minutes, and worse off, he got the bag! He was only supposed to get that if the Killing Machines won! CC: That thing has something in it that Cardiac's trying to keep for himself, and Farhope's got it in his possession! [The crowd boos the situation, but applauds as Adrena Lyn Rusch enters the ring with Monkey and raises Echo Dare's hand in victory.] OA: And now we're going backstage to Anthony Edwards who is attempting to get a few words with Hades. [Anthony Edwards appears standing in front of a locker room door, labeled "Hades".] AE: Hello fans, this is Anthony Edwards, and I'm backstage about to get a few words from the special referee in tonight's EWA Heavyweight Championship Iron Man match between Eric Travers, Steve Spector, and Mack Ensassarol. [Edwards turns and knocks on the door. A few seconds pass and the door slowly opens. Hades stands in the doorway, dressed in black pants and the zebra-striped referee's shirt with the sleeves cut off.] AE: Hades, I was wondering if we could get a few words from you. HADES: Sure, let's make it quick though. [Hades invites Anthony Edwards in the locker room. Hades takes a cautious look down the hallway to make sure no one else is coming, and shuts the door. Cut to inside the locker room.] AE: Well, tonight's certainly a huge night for the IWF/WOW. And before we get to your match tonight, one of the other things everyone is talking about is who is going to be the new President of the I/W. And I was wondering Hades, who you were going to vote for? [Hades gives a sigh.] HADES: Does it really matter? Both of those a-holes couldn't run a 7-11 efficiently, let alone a wrestling promotion. What we really need is my old friend Chris Jurkschat to get off his ass with just owning this fed, and pull a Mario Lemieux and start running the damn thing again! But if I have to pick one of these guys, I'll pick the lesser of two evils. I'll pick Justin Arcola. [Edwards's jaw drops out of shock. He leans in close to Hades and whispers to him.] AE (whispering): Hades, Justin Arcola is gay! HADES: Thanks for the update there, Shepherd Smith, but I haven't exactly been living under a rock for the past few months. I know he's a cake boy, but he's still the lesser of two evils. And while homosexuality _IS_ evil...don't get me wrong...it's not nearly as evil as the poor treatment that I and the HOA have been receiving under Brian Nelson's watch. I mean, what the hell, Bishop and Marconi both got fired?! I'm ranked lower than Cooper Concrete?! Over-rated losers like Maverick and Super Scott get bigger pushes?! Now THAT is evil! And I'll take ANY type of change to this system over what we have going on in the IWF/WOW right now! Even if it is from a fruitcake like Arcola. AE: But, Hades...this suprises me to no end. You supporting a gay man? HADES: Don't be such a homophobe, Tony. And I'm not supporting his sexual orientation. Like I said, that is evil. I'm supporting him running this fed at least a small bit better than that moron Nelson. And let's face facts, Brian Nelson would probably enjoy taking it in the ass himself if his head wasn't already firmly lodged up there! [Anthony Edwards winces in pain at that comment.] AE: You'd better hope Nelson doesn't win this election with a comment like that. But moving on to your match. Tonight, you're reffing the EWA Championship match, and all of our viewers are wondering, where do your allegiences lie? HADES: You know, after this past week's Graphic Nature, I almost have to question that myself. I was COMPLETELY impartial before Graphic Nature... [Edwards rolls his eyes.] HADES: ...but the savage, two-on-one brutal beating that Eric Travers and Steve Spector gave to me on Graphic Nature made me question all week long how I was going to call this match. I mean, those two jumped me like a pack of wild dogs. I hurt my shoulder in the scuffle... [Hades holds his right shoulder, expressing pain, to which Edwards rolls his eyes again.] HADES: ...and I struggled all week long, pondering, thinking, weighing the pros and cons of my actions, and wondering if I should show some favortism. I wrestled with this question all week long...but since I'm such a giving and fair man, I have to say...Eric Travers and Steve Spector... [Hades looks directly into the camera.] HADES: ...I forgive you. There, I said it. I forgive you both. And since I'm such a class act, I'm still going to call this match completely down the middle, and I'll wipe the barbaric beating that the two of you gave me on Graphic Nature out of my mind. You see, that's why... [Hades is interrupted as Persephone enters the room. She is dressed in her high school cheerleader outfit, and carrying a pair of pom-poms. Edwards immediately begins salivating at the Avril Lavign look-a-likes short skirt.] PERSEPHONE: Hi babe, I just got off practice. Is it time for your match yet? HADES: Almost. Dickhead here had to ask a few questions. [Persephone looks at Edwards who is visibly shaking out of lust.] AE: Um...nice...pom-poms, Persie. HADES: Okay, that's it, you creepy bastard. Get out! AE: But I... HADES: Shut up, OUT! I'll finish this interview myself. You too cameraman, just leave the camera here. [Hades takes the camera from the cameraman and sets it down on one of the locker room benches and pushes Anthony Edwards and the cameraman out of the locker room and shuts the door behind them.] PERSEPHONE: Thanks, hon. HADES: No problem, Pers. I don't know why Tony can't control himself. What happened to that guy? I have to take him out and get him some tail one of these days so he stops going after my tail! [Hades gives Persie a smile, and Persie saunters over to Hades with a wicked look in her eye. She looks at the camera that is still recording.] PERSEPHONE: So...since we have a camera here, why don't we give Anthony Edwards a little show, and show him what he'll never have. [Persephone rubs her hands up Hades's chest. She then reaches into her purse and pulls out a pair of hand-cuffs and cuffs one of Hades's hands to one of the lockers. Hades gives a look of shock, but then smiles.] HADES: You naughty little girl. [Persie gives a playful smile, and then begins kissing Hades's neck when...] **BOOM!!!** [The locker room door bursts open, and a fairly large man enters the room. He is wearing black face mask to conceal his identity, and a black "Brian Nelson For President" t-shirt. And he wields a steel chair.] HADES: Persie, get the hell back! [Hades shoves Persie aside as the masked man comes charging at Hades...] **SMACK!!!** [Hades is nailed across the head with the steel chair. Hades slumps to the ground, with his arm in the air because it is still hand-cuffed to the locker door.] PERSEPHONE: GET THE HELL OFF OF HIM! [Persephone jumps on the masked assailants back and begins attempting to strangle him from behind. The masked man simply backs up, slamming Persephone into a wall. She releases her grip, and falls to her knees. The masked man now turns his attention to Persie.] MASKED MAN: Stupid bitch! **SMACK!!** OA: Oh my god, no! [The masked man swings the chair and nails Persephone square in the face with it, apparently shattering her nose. She slumps to the ground motionless.] OA: This has gone too far! That's an 18 year old girl this masked man just nailed with a steel chair. For god's sake, get some help back there! She's busted open! HADES: YOU SON OF A BITCH! I'M GONNA FU... [Hades is now on his feet, and is attempting to rip the locker out of the ground that his arm is hand-cuffed to. Hades's wrist begins to bleed as he tears his skin open trying to break free of the handcuffs and get at this masked assailant.] HADES: JUST LET ME LOOSE YOU SORRY PIECE OF CRAP, AND WE'LL SEE WHAT THE HELL HAPPENS!! [The masked man chuckles at Hades, and paces back and forth just out of Hades's reach.] HADES: WHO ARE YOU?!? SHOW YOUR FACE, YOU COWARD! WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?! DO YOU WORK FOR BRIAN NELSON?! OR DID THAT BASTARD TRAVERS HIRE YOU?!? SHOW YOUR GOD DAMNED FACE!! [The masked man answers with another chuckle. He then turns back to Persephone prone form on the ground, and holds the chair up in the air over Persphone's back, and then swings...] ***SMACK!!!*** HADES: NOOOOO!!!! I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU! YOU'RE A DEAD MAN! YOU'RE DEAD, GOD DAMMIT! OA: Someone stop this! Get Persephone and Hades some help back there! [The blood pours from Hades's arm as he rips at the locker door. He manages to break one of the hinges, and finally the whole locker door begins to tear down. The masked man quickly runs over and begins beating Hades with the steel chair.] ***WHACK!! WHACK!! WHACK!!**** [The masked man lays three chair shots into Hades's back. Hades slumps to the ground on one knee. The masked man holds the chair up to hit Hades in the face again when...] OA: IT'S MACK ENSASSAROL!! Thank God! Did I just say that? ["The Shocker" Mack Ensassarol enters the room from behind the masked man with a steel chair of his own. He swings it back...] **CRASH!!*** ***SMACK!!!*** [Mack nails the masked man in the back with the chair. The masked man cringes in pain and turns around to see his assailant and is met with another hard chair shot directly in his face. The masked man falls to the ground unconscious. Hades manages to finally completely rip the locker room off of its hinges, and immediately runs over to Persephone and picks her up in his arms.] HADES: Oh, Jesus Christ... I have to get her to an ambulance! [Hades hurriedly gathers his things, and begins leaving the locker room with Persephone's unconscious and bleeding form in his arms.] MACK: Do you need anything from me, H? HADES: Just keep an eye on this piece of crap! I'll be back for him as soon as I get her some help. [Hades leaves the room and begins walking down the hall. He stops and pokes his head back in the room, and looks at Mack with a somber expression.] HADES: Oh...and Mack... MACK: Yeah, H? [Hades swallows hard.] HADES: ...thank you. [Mack gives a wide grin.] MACK: Sure thing, boss. [Hades leaves the room as Mack stands over the masked man with steel chair in hand.] OA: Well, I certainly hope Hades is able to get Persephone to some medical attention and that no major damage was done. Hades isn't the most pleasant guy in the world, but he doesn't deserve this, and Persephone certainly doesn't! CC: That's why you shouldn't bring skirts to work with you here in the IWF/WOW. It makes you vulnerable. OA: Well, when Hades finds out who this masked man is, I'm sure the tables will turn. Yet ANOTHER of several unanswered questions we're left with tonight, folks. Who's in that limo? Could it be the masked man who just attacked Hades? We need answers! ]=====[IWF/WOW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHP]=====[ ,-_/ ,-,-. ,--. ,,--. , .-,--. ' | ` | | | `-' |`, | ) ' | \ .^ | | |-. | . | | / , | / `--' ,' `-' `--' `---' `--' `-^--' ,-,---. , ,,--. ,,--. .-,--. |___/ ) |`, | |`, | ' | \ , | \ / | | | | , | / `-^---' `--' `---' `---' `-^--' "VILE" VINCE VIPER COOPER CONCRETE vs. "LETHAL INJECTION" CHRIS SHANNON ]===============[ Writer: Chris Flowers FRANCINE: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! It is a No Countout, No Disqualification Triple Threat match for the __ IWF/WOW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIP!! __ [POP!!!] FRANCINE: Introducing first ... ["Trip Like I Do" by Filter/Crystal Method begins to play over the loudspeakersand the crowd boos as the camera pans over to the entrance way.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada standing 6 feet 8 inches and weighing 271 pounds, being accompanied to the ring by his manager Mary-Jane, here is ... " T H E L E T H A L I N J E C T I O N " ... C H R I S S H A N N O N ! ! ! [The fans boo but the males start to hoot and holler as the blonde bombshell Mary-Jane first walks through the curtains and pauses with her hands on her hips looking around the arena. She's wearing black leather pants and a tight red t-shirt that is cut very low, revealing Mary-Jane's "enhanced" cleavage. After a few moments she shakes her head in disgust at the crowd and gestures behind her and out comes The Lethal Injection, who is greeted with a loud heel pop and then followed by a barage of boo's. He too stands scanning the crowd, with a sadistic look on his face, like he wants to hurt the first person that crosses his path.He wears shinny red trucks/shorts, almost a vinyl type material, the same type of trunks worn by Jeff Jarrett or Sean O'Hare, with black trim around the waist line and at the bottom of both of the legs. Along with this he has red wrestling boots, and black knee pads, a black elbow pad over his right arm, and black tape around his wrists. He has a tatoo of a Gemini symbol on his right arm, and on his left arm he has a tatoo of s kull wearing a visor hat and wearing sunglasses with a smoking joint in its mouth. The Lethal Injection rubs his shortly trimmed goatee as he scans the crowd, rubbing a hand through his short black spikey hair before making his way to the ring along with Mary-Jane. On his way to the ring he stares straight ahead, ignoring the fans and glaring up at the ring. When he gets in the ring he stands in the middle and thrusts both arms into the air, causing another heel pop, as Mary-Jane watches on from the corner, waiting for the match to start.] FRANCINE: His opponent ... OA: And she uses that term loosely. ["Another One Bites The Dust " by QUEEN is played over the PA system and the crowd boos heavily!] FRANCINE: ... standing 6 foot 6 inches and weighing 285 lbs. ... from Boston, Massachusetts ... here is "The Man With The Plan" ... ... C O O P E R C O N C R E T E ! ! ! [The I-Sore comes to life and flashes of numbers fill the screen...1......2......3.......B......GREATER GOOD....A closeup of Coop's face is seen, a determined look on his face, plus a sneer...Highlights of Cooper versus Nate McMannis, Johnny "Cool" Coles, Jeff Matthews, Eric Travers, Vile Vince Viper, Shane St. Clair, Maverick, and Razor Ron Jeremy fill the screen.] [Cooper walks through the curtains - he has a barbed wire baseball bat in hand. He stands at the top of the ramp and raises his bat and flashes the 3:B signal high in the air. Three explosions of Pyrotechnics fill the air as they simultaneously bang with the bass beat of the entrance.] BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! #ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST# [The Man With The Plan wears blue-tinted shades, a black "GREATER GOOD" T-shirt, bluejeans, workboots, and workgloves. Cooper walks down the ramp ignoring the fans who are cheering and booing the I-Slash legend. Cooper's eyes remain fixed on the ring. Cooper steps up the steel steps and enters the ring, where spinning lights of "3:B" circle the ring and arena. The music dies down and Cooper removes his shades and places his bat in a corner and is ready for combat.] ["Ride of the Valkery" by Wagner blasts over the PA system to a decent heel pop from the crowd. The camera cuts back to Francine in the ring as the lights begin to dim...] FRANCINE: ...And last, but certainly not least, is the champion, standing at 5'9", weighting in at 259lbs, he hails from Bucharest, Romania... please, put your hands together for the __ IWF/WOW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION __ ... "V I L E" ... V I N C E V I P E R ! ! ! [Some spotlights move along the aisle way before coming to a rest on the backstage curtains. At this moment the arena is illuminated by some a series of white, blue, and purple fireworks. The leather-clad fist of your king of snakes, draws back the curtains, out from the back walks Vile Vince Viper, flashing his pearly yellows. The king of snakes wears a black, snakeskin, tuxedo, with a red, silk shirt, and a zebra skin tie. Opening his tuxedo jacket, Vile reveals the Islash IC title. As the music swells, a group of Viperteers in the crowd toss red streamers into the aisle. Chuckling, the king of snakes pulls out a microphone...] VVV: Good evening ladiesss and germsss, its great to be back in the... "Palace" of Auburn HILLS. You know, it seems to me that many people think I'm OVER the HILL. Management doesn't seem to believe that I'm the KING of the HILL. ...In the end it really doesssn't matter. You see, as the champion, I don't want to tarnisssh my title... I don't even want to the strap to be asssssociated with AUBURN HILLSSS! [Vile makes his way down the aisle, shooting dirty looks to various fans on his way down. These cheap Indy tricks seem to be working, as for the first time in Vile's history with the company, the fans are actually booing...] VVV: Yeah, there isn't a champion that can get a win over me, yet people continue to find it Ridiculousss that I could hold a title. ...I figure that's what the Greater Good is about. A small group of failed 'stars' that look down at anyone whose achieved a sssmall sssemblance of sssuccesssss asss ssselling out... [Vile sees a small child with a sign in the crowd "VVV WILL JOB FOR FOOD!" Smiling at how clever it is Vile grabs the sign away from the child before she can pull away in fear. Admiring the craftsmanship, the countless hours that went into the making this sign, Vile feels nothing when he RIPS IT in half. Dropping the part about "WILL JOB FOR FOOD!" to the floor, Vile hands the half of the sign that reads "VVV" to the child. ...Another Viperteer created...] VVV: What you two don't ssseem to realize is, it isssn't about what the whimsss of a SSSELECT FEW. ...It'ss about the WHIMSSS OF A SSSELECT FEWER! Namely me. Sssee, I'm old. I'm out of ssshape. It's a disssgusssting joke that I could hold a title. Every time I walk out here with the strap, it degradesss all the great names that compete, and HAVE competed for the company. I make this title, this fed, look like a joke... And you know what? Call me lazy. Call me conceited. Laugh about my Cooper Concrete win/lose record, or my Hightower ethicsss... you can even call me evil... the fact of the matter isss... I JUSSST DON'T CARE!!! [Dropping the microphone, Vile slides into the ring. But suddenly ... ] "Oooooooohhh!" # Guess whos back, back again # Super's back, tell a friend # Guess who's back, guess who's back, # Guess who's back # Guess who's back... ["Without Me (Super BOOYAH Remix)" by Eminem plays.] # We've created a monster! # Cuz nobody wants to see rasslin' no more they want Super, I aint kiddin' # Well if you want Super, this is what I'll give ya # A long n' skinny weiner mixed with some hard liquor [Super Scott appears on the I-Sore holding a microphone.] OA: What is HE doing out here?? # Some vodka that'll jumpstart your heart quicker than a shock when you get shocked # At the hospital by the Dr. when Super's not cooperating when he's rockin' the table while ya operating # You waited this long now stop debating cuz Super's back # He's in your face and masturbating # I know that you got a problem with him but your tongue on his nuts makes it complicating "SU-PER SCOTT!!!! SU-PER SCOTT!!!!" "SU-PER SCOTT!!!! SU-PER SCOTT!!!!" "SU-PER SCOTT!!!! SU-PER SCOTT!!!!" OA: AND WHY ARE THEY CHEERING FOR HIM? What the hell?! The only thing that can possibly explain this is that it's his hometown - and even that has never stopped them from booing this bum before. CC: Hometown? What are you talking about, Owen? This is the rich area of Detroit. He spends most of his time on the southside of the city, if you know what I mean. "SUP-ER-A!!!! SUP-ER-A!!!!" "SUP-ER-A!!!! SUP-ER-A!!!!" "SUP-ER-A!!!! SUP-ER-A!!!!" OA: This is the last night of the Supera, as Super Scott calls his reign as VP. The crowd is chanting in support. Hometown or no hometown, this is just odd. CC: Super Scott has always had his share of fans. A very small share, granted, but a share nonetheless. Let's hear what the LBJ of wrestling has to say. "L-B-J!!!! L-B-J!!!!" "L-B-J!!!! L-B-J!!!!" "L-B-J!!!! L-B-J!!!!" [Super is standing mid-ring with a mic] SUPER SCOTT: It isn't often in life that you find something that you are great at. Something you are better at then everyone that has come before you. I'm a damn good wrestler, but not the very best. I'm a damn good cokehead, but that damn Whitney Houston's got me beat there. But there is one thing that nobody has ever done better than me .. and that one thing is being Acting VP of a Canadian wrestling promotion. I'm the best Interim VP in history and I don't want to leave this job. .. So I ask of whoeever wins this election, keep me on board your team. The fans want me as VP, all the retail store clerks that I met today at the Great Lakes Crossing Mall want me as VP .. and most importantly, I wanna be VP. It's fun having complete control of the lives of the wrestlers that work for you - and their families too. So fans, do what you gotta do - write your Congressman, or the Canadian equivalent, and start a "Save the Supera" petition, but don't let the movement die! When it's all over, just like the Van Halen song says, We'll be .. "Standing on top of the world .. for a little while... Standing on top of the world .. duh duh duh .. give it all you got." OA: To no one's surprise, he completely butchered that song. SUPER SCOTT: Okay, onto the current order of business - the IC Title Match. I'm just not happy with this match and have been trying to come up with ways to make it more entertaining. I even asked Jacob Jordan if he'd be open to making a one-night cameo for this match, but he turned it down because he's grounded. And all he had to do is take out the trash, that lazy punk. Taking out the trash is a good metaphor though for what I'm doing here tonight. I don't want Cooper Concrete or "Lethal Injection" Chris Shannon to win this match by some fluke, and I don't trust Vile Vince Viper enough to prevent that from happening. So therefore, I went out and had to find someone who could do just that. Someone who I guarantee will win this match. It wasn't easy. I tried getting Chris Courtade, but he couldn't make it. I thought about Drac Dravin or Devon Case, but despite repeated attempts to recruit them, they turned me down at every step of the way. Then, I tried finding Offensive Alex Adams, but I'm not even sure he's alive anymore. I even got desperate and tried calling Monkeyshine, but then I came to my senses. I was about to give up. Then, I did something I've never done before and hopefully will never do again... I watched dark matches. And holy crap, someone really impressed me. This guy is it. THIS GUY .. can do it. This might be the most talented guy to debut, get fired, and re-debut in I-Slash .. all in a couple months span .. EVER! So .. ladies and gentleman of AUBURN HILLS ... without further adieu ... I give to you .. your SOON-TO-BE ... NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW ... INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIIIIIIIIIONNNNN..... ... C H U C K A L L E N ! ! ! ["WE KNOW WHO YOU MEAN" POP!!!!] OA: Chad. His name's Chad. Chad Allen, folks, and earlier tonight on the countdown to this very show, he battled "Tigerheart" Rally Jackson to a time limit draw thanks to your tightly wound watch, Crane! CC: Time expired! What do you want from me? OA: Well so has your brain. I'm surprised you actually woke up in time for the show after passing out from Allen's Masterlock. I have to say this quite a good call on Super Scott's part. Any coincidence that it's in front of his hometown? Wait, here he comes! [The lights go out in the arena. The darkness lasts for just long enough for the fans to begin to murmur and talk about what might happen next. Then the I Sore lights up to show... Clown Paint?! The clown paint of the Jester, Chad Allen fills the screen, but then begins to slowly melt away, leaving behind the infamous words... NEW LOOK, SAME PAIN Some fans pop as "A NEW LEVEL" by Pantera blows the speakers to 11. Spotlights from all over the arena converge onto one spot, at the top of the stage, where the man himself, Chad Allen, stands, wearing the black robe he has worn in the promos with the hood up. Chad stands on a rotating platform so it gives us the feel briefly of the promos we have seen. Suddenly the rotating stops as the lyrics kick in to the song, and Chad drops the hood and heads directly to the ring, stopping once or twice to slap an outreached fans hand.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Queens, NY standing 5 feet 10 inches and weighing 265 pounds, here is ... ... C H A D A L L E N ! ! ! [Chad slides under the bottom rope and raises his hands in the air, then quickly moving to a corner to remove his robe as the music fades.] CC: All 4 men are in the ring and ready to go. We got Chad Allen! We got Chris Shannon. We got Cooper Concrete... OA: Don't forget that earlier tonight Kelly James came to Cooper's lockeroom wanting to talk and Cooper told her it wasn't a good time, what a jerk! [Cordell gets the talk back on the match] CC: And we've got the champ! "Vile" Vince Viper. OA: This match is more like a tag match, Cooper Concrete and Chris Shannon are in the Greater Good together, so if Viper or Allen plan on standing a chance they'll _have_ to team together. And they have before as the Mondo somethings. CC: Geckos? [With that, the bell rings and Cooper and Shannon charge Viper and Allen respectively and start pounding away on them. Viper goes down hard from Coopers right hand.] CC: Is it me? Or did Viper go down way to easily from that right hand? [Cooper picks up Viper and scoop slams him in the center of the ring, meanwhile, Shannon has Allen in the corner. He's stomping away with kicks until Shannon is on the ground in the corner.] OA: The Greater Good has taken the early advantage. [Cooper drops an elbow across the chest of Viper in the middle of the ring. With Viper down Cooper and Shannon pick up Allen and drop him stomach first on their knees with a gutbuster. Allen rolls around in agony on the mat, Viper is slowly getting to his feet, while on his hands and knees Cooper drops another elbow, this time on the small of Viper's back. Cooper flashes the 3:B signal] OA: Cooper Conrete and Chris Shannon are taking it to Viper and Allen early. Cooper is going for the quick win and the crowd is livid! Crowd: BBBBOOOOOO!!!!!! OA: He grabs Viper and sits down on his back... CC: HE'S GOT IT LOCKED!!! VIPER IS IN AGONY!!! [The grimace on Viper's face is only matched by his scream in pain. Shannon has Allen in the corner and is pounding him with knee's to the stomach.Cooper is pulling back, all his strength and energy are in the 3:B and Viperis starting to fade. Shannon grabs Allen by the hair and lifts him up for a suplex...but Allen slips off behind Shannon and grabs him around the waist...] CC: No friggin way! Belly to back suplex on Shannon!!! OA: Allen is giving up a lot of size to Shannon and Cooper. That was a helluva move! That may have taken as much out of him doing it, as it took out of Shannon. [The move drained Allen. Back down, on the mat, he looks up at the ceiling and catches his breath. Shannon slowly starts to roll to his feet and Allen grabs the ropes and pulls himself up. Cooper Concrete has the 3:B _locked_ and Viper is clearly out.] CC: Viper would quit if he didn't go and pass out! The ref raises his hand and... OA: It falls! CC: The ref raises his hand a second time and...Shannon rose to his feet just to be met with a _big_ thrust kick by Allen!!! Shannon goes falling over the top ropes to the outside. OA: It fell a second time! CC: The ref raises "Vile" Vince Viper's arm for the _final_ time, _what the hell_ is Chad Allen doing, he is on the top rope, his back to the ring... and he leaps!!! [[[[[[[[[[BANG]]]]]]]]]] [The hand never hit the mat a third time as Chad Allen moonsaulted ontop of Cooper Concrete, sandwiching him between Allen and Viper. The move obviously hurt all three men. The only man up is Chris Shannon, who grabs a chair from the ringside area, and rolls back into the ring.] CC: It'll be target practice for Shannon now. OA: Allen rises to his feet and.... [[[[[[[[[[CRACK]]]]]]]]]] [[[[[[[[[[CRACK]]]]]]]]]] [[[[[[[[[[CRACK]]]]]]]]]] CC: Three stiff shots to the head by Chris Shannon and Chad Allen is _DOWN_! He hit him on the left, he hit him on the right, then right in the middle!!! [Cooper rolls off of Viper w/ the assistance of Shannon who pulls Viper up to his feet and...Viper sprays green mist into the eyes of Chris Shannon. Shannon staggers back falling to the mat clutching his eyes, apparently blinded. The chair lies next to him. Viper turns around and picks up Concrete, dropping him back to the mat with a neckbreaker. Shannon kips to his feet and spins Viper around...] CC: STUNNER BY SHANNON!!! How the hell did he get up? How was he able to see so soon? OA: Shannon is grabbing at his eyes, maybe he isn't ok. He takes out _contact lenses!!! CC: _BRILLIANT_ That Chris Shannon is _brilliant_! [Chad Allen rolls outside of the ring, groggy, he lands on the ground and tries to get back up to his feet. Meanwhile, Cooper and Shannon pick up Viper and whip him into the ropes...Spinebuster by Shannon! Concrete drops an elbow immediately. Allen has rolled under the ring and pulls out a table. He sets it up outside the ring and reaches back under, pulling out a fire extinguisher. Concrete whips Viper into the corner and charges...] CC: Viper moved! OA: Concrete hit the corner sternum first and staggers backwards, Viper grabs him from behind around the head and _bulldog_!!! Viper is going upstairs! He's on the top ropes! Meanwhile, Shannon has reached through the ropes and grabbed Allen from behind, Allen has the extinguisher in his hands and.... [[[[[[[[[[CRACK]]]]]]]]]] {{{{{{{{{{THUD}}}}}}}}}} OA: ALLEN HIT SHANNON IN THE HEAD W/ THE EXTINGUISHER! CC: AT THE _EXACT_ SAME TIME VIPER LEPT FROM THE TOP AND HIT A REVERSE SHOOTING STAR PRESS!!! Viper with the cover!!! ONE!! TWO!! THR...no!!! Allen rolled into the ring and broke up the pinfall. [Viper pounds the mat and gets up in Allen's face. Viper, realizing he needs to keep Allen working with him to have a chance turns around and grabs Concrete by the hair and lifts him up for a bodyslam and drops his throat across the top rope. Allen turns around and sees Shannon rising on the outside. Viper clotheslines Concrete over the top ropes, he lands hard on the mat. Allen and Viper look at each other as Shannon rises to his feet and climbs up the stairs and walks along the side, he lowers his head to enter the ring and Allen whips Viper off the ropes for momentum...] [[[[[[[[[[[CRASH]]]]]]]]]] Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! CC: FRIGGIN' SUNSET FLIP POWERBOMB OFF THE RING APRON BY VINCE VIPER!!! HE PUT SHANNON THROUGH THE TABLE! OA: Shannon is _OUT_. Viper appears to have wrenched his knee on the landing, having flipped over the ropes to the outside like he did. He's grabbing his knee on the ground. But Chris Shannon took the brunt of that one and may be _done_! [Cooper Concrete is up to his feet on the outside. Chad Allen climbs out of the ring and, sensing victory is in his hands, wanting to make sure Viper can't break up the pinfall attempt he picks him up and whips him _hard_ into the ring steps. He drops down and covers Chris Shannon. Cooper walks around the ring, seeing what is happening he sprints.] ONE!! TWO!! CC: Concrete breaks up the pinfall. OA: Don't forget folks, pinfalls can take place anywhere, this is no DQ, no Count out! CC: Just the way I like it. [Concrete yanks Allen up to his feet and grabs him by one arm and yanks him forward into a short arm clothesline. Allen hits the ground, but Concrete doesn't let go of Allen's left arm, he pulls him back up and hits another short armed clothesline...and he does it a _third_ time.] CC: Cooper Concrete made Allen pay for that one. OA: Cooper Concrete is the only man up at this point. Shannon and Viper are slowly risin...KELLY JAMES IS COMING DOWN THE AISLE. CC: I guess she was able to wipe away the tears long enough to come out here. [Viper and Shannon are exchanging punches, Viper clotheslines Shannon over the guardrail and follows suit, not by jumping over the guardrail, but by pulling it apart. Cooper Concrete reaches down to pull Chad Allen back to his feet. But stops...noticing Kelly James. He slowly walks over to her, they meet and a screaming match ensues.] CC: Ah, young love. OA: I wish I could make out what they are saying from here, it _can't_ be good. Concrete is pointing back up towards the enterance way! He wantes here _out of here_. [[[[[[[[[[SLAP]]]]]]]]]] CC: That'll leave a mark! Kelly James just slapped Concrete across the face. Cooper is pissed! He grabs her by the arm and yanks her up the aisleway. [Cooper hands James over to security at the top of the ramp, meanwhile, Chad Allen has made his way to his feet and followed in pursuit. The crowd is boo'ing big time at Concrete for having James escorted out of here. As he finishes telling security to take her to the back he turns around...] OA: ALLEN SPEARS COOPER AS HE TURNS AROUND!!! [Allen, ontop of Concrete just stars punching away. Allen, landing stiff shot after stiff shot, and Concrete is trying to get his hands up to block. Streaks of blood splatter everywhere as Allen has opened up Concrete. Allen, picks up Concrete and drags him by the hair back towards the ring. He hoists Concrete up and slams him down on the steel ringsteps.] CC: On the other side, we got Viper and he's pounding away on Shannon in the crowd. Viper's gloves look like they've got brass knuckles in them. OA: That's cause they do Cordell. [Viper goes to whip Shannon back into the guardrail that he removed, but Shannon reverses, Viper tries to jump over the guardrail but clips that same knee he buckled earlier on. He lands on the ringside padding, grabbing his knee in pain. Shannon gains his composure and grabs the removed guardrail. He lifts it up and...] [[[[[[[[[[THUD]]]]]]]]]] CC: SHANNON SLAMS THE GUARDRAIL INTO VIPER'S THROAT!!! OA: Viper is rolling around in agony! He can't breathe! [Shannon, unrelenting drops a leg across Viper's throat. He gets up and puts his boot on Viper's throat, using the bottom rope as leverage to push down harder. Viper squirms, trying to excape the agonizing move.] CC: While Viper is squirming, Chad Allen is taking it to Cooper Concrete!! [Allen grabs Concrete from behind and hooks his arms into a full nelson, he lungs forward] [[[[[[[[[[CLANG]]]]]]]]]] OA: FULL NELSON DRIVER RIGHT INTO THE RINGSTEPS!!! ALLEN WITH THE COVER!!! ONE!! TWO!!! [The crowd gasps, as with his last bit of strength Cooper Concrete muscles his way out of the pin, lunging Chad Allen up in the air, his shoulder connecting with the ringpost. He staggers back and Concrete trips him, his head smacking the announcing table behind. More importantly, the tv monitor on the table. Blood pours out of Allen's head as shards of the glass monitor cling to his face.] OA: Concrete has opened up Allen badly, but he's still trying to get up himself. CC: Viper is slowly losing conciousness on the other side of the ring!! Nothing can save him now, nothing except... OA: THAT'S LIKE ... SEVENTY MIDGETS! CC: I was actually going to say a miracle, but ok, seventy midgets might be able to do the job as well. OA: No, Viper's Army of Little People have run down the aisleway!!! CC: Watch your ankles guys! [Allen wipes away the blood from his face and can't believe his eyes and midgets swarm the ring, like bees may if you smacked their nest. Shannon can't believe his eyes, 70 little nightmares are stampeding towards him and he takes his boot away from Viper's throat.] CC: Concrete grabs two of them by the throat and..._chokeslam_! Midget omelets! They are splattered on the ground! Oh the humanity!! [Crane cackles in enjoyment as Allen grabs one of the midgets and lifts him up....] [[[[[[[[[[[CRASH]]]]]]]]]] OA: THE LAST LAUGH THROUGH THE ANNOUNCER'S TABLE. CC: Good riddance, one less little person. [Shannon grabs two of the midgets as well...._double Fall from Grace_!!! The crowd is popping big time at the destruction of the little people. Shannon grabs another and drags him into the ring. He hoists him up to the top rope.] OA: No, he's not going to!!! CC: He is!!! He is!!! [The crowd realizes what it about to happen and roars big time. The midgets wiggles, but you know midgets, they always run around like a chicken with it's head cut off. Shannon lifts the midget up, his little legs kicking behind him and...] [[[[[[[[[[THUD]]]]]]]]]]] [[[[[[[[[THUD]]]]]]]]]]]] _____THE LETHAL DOSE_____] CC: That is _one__dead__midget_!!! [The midgets are on the ground scattered around the ring and now all four men have risen to their feet, the blood is pouring out of the heads of Concrete and Allen. Shannon is catching his breath, the sole man in the ring and Viper is limping over to the ringsteps and climbing back in. Allen slides into the ring as does Concrete, all four men are back in the ring they started in, the crowd starts cheering in anticipation, nobody knowing what will happen next.] CC: Concrete charges Viper!!! Shannon charges Allen!!! OA: VIPER SPRAYS MIST INTO CONCRETE'S EYES!!! [Cooper staggers back into the corner, blinded. Shannon notices this and lets go of Allen, charging Viper...Viper moves and a blinded Concrete, coming out of the corner nails Shannon...__CEMENT MIXER__!!! The crowd pops at the miscommunication. Viper with the cover] ONE!! TWO!! [Allen makes the save, dropping clenched fists down across the back of Viper's head. Concrete is finally able to see and sees what he has done, what has almost come to fruition. He helps Shannon back to his feet. In the meantime, Viper is pissed at Allen and bitch slaps him.] CC: Damn, you could hear that from here. [[[[[SMACK]]]]] OA: Allen responds to Viper's slap. Viper is bent over in pain...wait, he's reaching into his pocket for something... {{{{{POOF}}}}} [Viper throws a mystery powder into the face of Chad Allen.] CC: Uh oh, he's doing the damn strut! [The crowd rises as Viper locks on the Satan Strut. Meanwhile, Concrete and Shannon are arguing on the other side of the ring. Allen is grabbing at Viper's arm, trying to break the hold, but he is failing. Paralyzed in pain he drops to the mat. Concrete and Shannon, noticing the ref dropping down to make the count on Shannon stop arguing and pull Viper off Allen together.] CC: Concrete grabs Viper from behind and spins him around, kick to the gut, piledriver! Viper rolls to the outside and Concrete follows suit, meanwhile, Shannon grabs Allen and hoists him up onto the top rope, he climbs up after him. [Viper takes a hard right hand from Concrete and staggers into the guardrail. Meanwhile, Shannon wraps his arms around Allen's waste and lifts back from the top.] {{{{{{{{{{THUD}}}}}}}}}} CC: Belly to belly _superplex_!!! The cover... ONE!! TWO!! THREE!!!! [?] OA: LAST SECOND KICKOUT! Shannon is pissed, he thought he had this one won. [Viper is resting, arms on the guardrail and Concrete kicks at Viper's injured knee. The crowd is reaching over the guardrail in front of them, Cooper notices a man with a beer bottle and yanks the beer out of his hand. He leans back and takes a big swing then...] [[[[[[[[[[CRASH]]]]]]]]]] [With that, the bottle is broken over Viper's head. Viper falls to the crowd in a puddle of blood and Concrete spits the beer he swigged in his mouth out, all over the downed Viper. Meanwhile, Shannon has applied a sleeper in the ring and has Chad Allen down on the mat. His arm rises once...and drops. His arm rises a second time...and drops. his arm rises a third time and...] OA: ALLEN'S ARM STAYS UP!!! Allen is getting back up to his feet and Shannon holds on from behind. Allen squats down and lifts Shannon up on his back, still clinging onto that sleeper for dear life, _HE RUNS_... Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! CC: RUNNING FRIGGING JAWBREAKER!!! OA: Shannon was up there when he landed that one and appears to be out in the ring!!! Allen rolls ontop of Shannon, THIS ONE IS OVER!!! ONE!!! TWO!!! CC: NOT.....QUITE.....YET!!!! COOPER CONCRETE YANKS ALLEN OFF OF SHANNON! [Concrete has brought a table into the ring and set it up. He sends Allen off the ropes and downs him quickly with a big boot to the face. Allen rolls, his head underneath the table. Concrete grabs him by the legs and pulls back.] {{{{{THUD}}}}} OA: Concrete slingshotted Allen into the underneath of the table. Allen is holding his mouth, he may have broken his nose on that one! [Viper is starting to come to on the outside, he is trying to crawl to the ring apron. Shards of glass hanging from his arms as he crawls through the broken glass towards the ring. A look of determination on his face, he grabs at the ring apron. Meanwhile, Shannon has risen to his feet with the help of Cooper Concrete and they grab Allen and pull him to his feet, Cooper hoists Allen up around his waist and Shannon grabs Allen around the head, they fall forward towards the table and...] [[[[[[[[[[CRASH]]]]]]]]]] CC: 3D THROUGH THE FRICKIN' TABLE BY CONCRETE AND SHANNON! OA: Shannon used up what appears to have been the last of his energy on that one, he's taking a breather on the mat, Cooper rolls over and covers Allen. This _has_ to be over now. ONE!!! TWO!!! _____OH MY GOD_____!!!! [[[[[[[[[[CLANG]]]]]]]]]] {{{{{{{{{THUD}}}}}}}} CC: VIPER MOONSAULTED OFF THE TOP TO BREAK THE PIN, BUT HE HAD A CHAIR IN FRONT OF HIM, HE DAMN NEAR MAY HAVE KILLED COOPER CONCRETE!!! OA: Both men are down in the ring, the blow taking a lot out of both men. [Chris Shannon is the only man moving. He rolls over ontop of Allen himself now.] ONE!!! TWO!!! [Chad Allen barely kicked out. His eyes are still closed, he's still out of it, he's acting solely on instinct at this point.] CC: You know, there's still midgets knocked out around the ring, I think that warrants mentioning. [All four men are down in the ring. Pieces of a table are scattered throughout as is a blood covered chair from the moonsault. Fragments of glass can be seen sparkling in the ring, obviously leaving Vince Viper's arms on point of impact with the moonsault.Concrete and Viper are the first to their feet... Concrete, leaning against the ropes and Viper lunges at him with a clothesline. Both men go plummeting over the top ropes to the outside. In the ring, Chris Shannon and Chad Allen stagger to their feet.] CC: Allen with a right! Shannon with a left! They are slugging it out in the center of the ring! [The crowd pops, big time! At the same time, Viper and Cooper are rolling around on the arena floor, punching at each other, clawing at each other's eyes. Doing anything to get the advantage. Viper reaches into his pocket and pulls out more of that powder he used earlier on Chad Allen. He smears it in the eys of Cooper, blinding him long enough for Viper to get the advantage. He climbs up to the ringpost and undoes the top turnbuckle, exposing the metal. He pulls the rope that held the turnbuckle together away and drops back down, wrapping the rope around Cooper's neck and choking him viciously.] [[[[[[[[[[THUD]]]]]]]]]] OA: Shannon irish whipped Allen sternum first into the exposed turnbuckle!!! Meanwhile, Viper is dragging a downed Cooper over to the guardrail and is tying one end of the rope to the guardrail and the other end around Cooper's throat. Cooper Concrete is _trapped_!!! [Viper looks back in the ring, Shannon drops Allen to the mat in a spinning backbreaker. After a moment of reflecting, is he going to help Allen? Viper decides to go for the win and to end the match, once and for all.] CC: VIPER IS DOING THE DAMNED STRUT AGAIN! OA: ___SATAN STRUT___!!! [Viper has the hold _locked_ on Concrete's face, his back pinned against the railing, he can't be pinned from this position. Viper's only hope is to make Concrete tap out. Kneeling in front of Concrete, Viper has the hold cinched, one hand on Concrete's face, the other holding the top of the guardrail for added pressure.] CC: Shannon sees Viper going for the win, he's gonna try to beat Viper to the punch. He drops the chair in the middle of the ring and grabs Allen!!! [With that, the camera's flash as Chris Shannon uses all the strength and energy he has left in his body and hoists Chad Allen up into the air for the Fall from Grace, the chair below, the crowd gasps...] [[[[[[[[[[CRACK]]]]]]]]]] OA: CHAD ALLEN COUNTED THE FALL FROM GRACE WITH AN ARMBAR TAKEDOWN!!! CC: SHANNON'S HEAD BOUNCED OFF THAT CHAIR BELOW HIM!!! OA: Allen hops ontop of the downed Shannon and grabs his arms full nelson style..._and leans back_!!!! CC: ______MASTERLOCK_______!!!! [Viper realizes Allen is going for the submission. Allen realizes Viper is going for the submission and both their eyes meet, Allen's from the inside and Viper's from the outside. Their teeth clench and both men puts all their strength into their moves, waiting for one man to quit, waiting for one man to give] CC: They are just _waiting_ for Concrete or Shannon to tap! It's like a submission race!!!! OA: Will Shannon or Concrete be able to escape?!?!? [The camera pans in, split screen, face shots of Concrete and Shannon, both in agonizing pain. Both trying to hold out, this cuts to split screen shots of Allen and Viper, each putting every last ounce of strength in their bodies into ending this match, once and for all.] CC: Who will give?!!?!??!?! DING! DING! DING! OA: HE GAVE UP!!! HE GAVE UP!!! FRANCINE: Here is your winner ... ... and _NEEEEEWWWWW_ IWF/WOW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION ... ["A New Level" by Pantera plays.] ... C H A D A L L E N ! ! ! [Livid, would be the best word to describe the look on Viper's face. A look of utter shock, he doesn't quite know how to react. Allen slumps over in the ring, exhausted, the title is drapped over his bloody body and a smile crawls onto his face] OA: Wait a minute! HERE COME ENSASSAROL AND SABBATH! [They're already down the aisle before anyone notices. They dive inside and immediately pounce on Chad Allen. Burying him under a heavy dose of boots. Sabbath picks him up and sends him to Ensassarol.] ((((( BOOM ))))) OA: MACK 10!!! MACK 10 ON THE NEW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION!!! CC: What does this mean?? Where's the interest from these two?? OA: Maybe Sabbath is claiming his title shot! [Viper leaves the ring in disgust, flanked by Mack and Sabbath.] OA: Or maybe they're with Viper! Don't tell me these three deviants are together! [The camera cuts backstage, and we see the IWF/WOW Presidential Election Voting table, manned by Anthony Edwards and Super Scott. The solid metal ballot box is right in the center of the table. We see the Men in Black, Jayson and Dagger, placing their ballots into the box.] OA: There's the Men in Black! They're just two of many superstars chosen by the fans to vote for the I/W's next President! Who's it gonna be? CC: Nelson. OA: Keep watching, folks. The votes will be tallied by the end of the night! Hold on, Cordell! I've just been given word that something is happening outside the arena! [Somewhere in the Palace of Auburn Hills parking lot. Farhope enters the picture, shadowed by the two Killing Machines. Farhope has the bag that Cardiac took in hand. He stops, looks around, and slowly begins to _open_ the bag.] FARHOPE: At last! At last! I will be _richly_ rewarded for this! CARDIAC: Give that back, Farhope! [Cardiac, chasing Farhope, appears behind the trio. The cameras capture the look of shock in Farhope's face as he reveals the contents of the bag...] FARHOPE and CARDIAC: --____Empty____?! [Farhope's demeanor turns from triumphant to deadly in a second! He addresses Overkill and Demolisher.] FARHOPE: Get _him_! [The Machines approach Cardiac menacingly. Suddenly--] (( SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! )) [A sleek black BMW 316i appears from the corner and heads for the small crowd, missing Overkill by inches. The car stops in between Cardiac and the Machines. The front window drops.] ECHO: Get in, mon amis! [Cardiac needed little persuasion. He hops on, and the car runs off at full speed, leaving a _very_ frustrated Mister Farhope.] FARHOPE: This isn't _over_, Cardiac!!! [Back to the arena.] CC: Sheezh, what was _that_ all about? Cardiac screwed Farhope! The bag was _empty_! OA: No! You heard him! He was just as surprised as Farhope! __Someone took the contents of that bag__!!! We'll monitor this situation closely, folks! "It appears my hypocrisy knows no bounds..." OA: What the hell? CC: Hey, I love this movie! Are they gonna play it on the I-Sore??? [As Val Kilmer finishes the line from "Tombstone", the I-SORE flares to live with a still image of Cooper Concrete, Chris "Lethal Injection" Shannon, and Infinite Justice are shown connecting fists, the "Greater Good" secret handshake, over the head of Brian Nelson.] ***BOOOOO*** OA: The crowd doesn't like the way this is starting! CC: These fans have no respect! [The I-SORE flashes to a picture of THE BRIAN NELSON leering at the camera, arms folded across his chest as if to say "I'm the boss, deal with it!".] OA: Now that is Heel Heat, listen to them! [Indeed, the 'good' felt for Mr. Nelson is NOT 'great'!] "What this town needs is an enema!" [Jack Nicholson's Joker flashes his exaggerated grin across the screen, slowly enlarging until only his pearly white teeth are shown as his manic laughter floats through arena. Then from the rafts drift two round platforms with figures standing on them. The arena lights have slowly dimmed to hide the identity of the figures. Two spotlights, one white and one red, race from the back of the arena to center ring.] CC: Friends of yours Owen? #HELLO...HELLO AGAIN# ["Hello" by The Cars beats forth as the crowd stares at the mystery show above them. As the round platforms glide downward towards center ring, the spotlights dart away to opposite ring posts. The I-SORE goes solid blue and the music fades as the platforms touch down in the ring. Now the only sound is the buzz of the crowd. The two figures step off and the platforms begin to rise upwards, but the two merely stand where they are in the shadows.] [Dramatic pause] #Guess who just got back today?# #Those wild-eyed boys that had been away# #Haven't changed, haven't much to say# #But man, I still think those cats are great# CC: NO! Not these guys! OA: YES!!! [Thin Lizzy is almost drowned out as the crowd leaps to their feet in expectation, and sure enough, the two figuresrace to the corners and climb the turnbuckles...] OA: THE BOYS NEXT DOOR!!! CC: Yeah yeah yeah, Sammy Griffin and "Bullfrog" Garrett Jax. [Under the red light, Sammy Griffin bounces on the second rope urging the crowd to scream louder. Across the ring Garrett Jax merely leans out and smirks from the second rope.] #The drink will flow and blood will spill# #If the boys want to fight, you'd better let them# [House lights come up and Sammy and Garrett walk to the center ring, each holding a microphone.] #That jukebox in the corner blasting out my favorite song# #The nights are getting warmer, it won't be long# #It won't be long till summer comes# #Now that the boys are here again# SAMMY: SING IT! #The boys are back in town# #The boys are back in town# #The boys are back in town# [The music dies, but the crowd still screaming keeps the Boys from saying anything more for a while. Finally, Sammy gets them to calm down long enough...] SAMMY: We're baaaccckkkkkk! ***ROAR*** CC: God I hate these guys. JAX: Let's cut to the chase. At one time, we held the IWF/WOW Tag Team belts. (cheer) Then Brian Nelson came along (boo). Suddenly we find ourselves beltless and being 'sent down' to PCW! No explanation, no nothing! We WERE the tag division, and Nelson didn't like that! OA: They were dominating. CC: Each other. Freaks. SAMMY: But see, Be-boppin' Brian isn't stupid. No, little B was thinking down the line for when he would take over from Chris Jurkschat (YEAH!) and he wanted all the power. And to get that, he had to have a couple of saps to hold his belts. Seems his plan is to have Cooper "old as" Concrete and Chris "drug injection" Shannon grab some while he runs the tag division with...Infinite Justice? Come on B, all four men are unworthy of the fans time as champions! JAX: I don't give a... I don't give a SHIT... OA: Oh my God, Jax cussed! That man doesn't even say 'damn'! CC: Maybe he's finally grown up Owen. JAX: ...what Nelson's plans were. All I know is that it is time for him to pay the piper. And Nelson, I'm the piper! SAMMY: Easy big guy. Well Boss B...come on out and "talk" if you dare! ***HELL YEAH!*** OA: THE BOYS ARE CHALLENGING NELSON TO APPEAR! CC: Ha! Nelson won't waste his time on these guys tonight, the Greater Good have bigger fish to fry. ["Hotdog" by Limp Bizkit begins to play over the loudspeakers. Crowd pops for the familiar song.] OA: Well someone is answering the challenge... CC: What the hell? What are they doing here? OA: NO! I thought we had seen the last of these two! # Ladies and gentlemen # introducing the chocolate starfish # and the hot dog-flavored water # bring it on # get the fuck up # yeah check one, two listen up listen up # here we go # it's a fucked up world a fucked up place everybody's judged by their fucked up face # fucked up dreams fucked up life a fucked up kid with a fucked up knife # fucked up moms and fucked up dads a fucked up cop with a fucked up badge #fucked up job with fucked up pay and a fucked up boss is a fucked up day # fucked up press and fucked up lies while lethal's in the back with fucked up eyes OA: The fans are cheering for Intent to Injure? CC: THEY WERE RELEASED! Didn't they take their balls and go home? Quitters are welcome in the I/W. It's bad enough that the Boys Next Door just returnedŠ HEY! This is good! JUSTIN VINCE ABEL AND CRAZY BRAVE ARE BACK TO KICK BND'S ASSES! THEY MUST BE ANSWERING THE CHALLENGE FOR NELSON! [Jax and Griffin are waiting for Abel and Brave to hit the ring. Abel is wearing a Detroit Red Wings jersey with the number 12 and his last name on the back, red amatuer wrestling tights and white and red boots. He has short dark brown crew cut hair and is clean shaven. Crazy Brave is part Native American with long dark brown hair that reaches down his back. He is wearing knee length tan shorts and shoes. They walk confidently to the ring acknowleding the fans as they enter the ring.] OA: Garrett Jax is looking for a fight! Griffin is barely holding back his partner, as Crazy Brave and Justin Vince Abel are talking to the Boys Next Door. CC: I can't hear a thing! I'm throwing a spare microphone into the ring. [Crazy Brave picks up the mic.] CRAZY BRAVE: HOW ... 'sit hanging? [Crowd boos. Crazy Brave laughs and hands the microphone to Abel.] CC: These fans should shut the hell up so we can listen to I2I speak. JUSTIN VINCE ABEL: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Sammy... Garrett... calm down. We're not here to fight... YOU! [The crowd cheers this change in attitude. Griffin seems to be willing to listen to I2I and holds back Jax. Garrett asks why are they back.] JVA: You want to know why we're here? You want to know why we're back? [Crazy Brave grabs the mic.] CRAZY BRAVE: Well thanks for asking us HOW we're doing. No class. Justin fractures his arm and dislocates his shoulder in our last match and you don't have the common courtesy to ask us HOW we are. [The crowd yells "HOW!"] Crazy Brave: HOW are we? I'll tell you HOW we are. We're pissed off! We're pissed off at _BRIAN NELSON_! [The crowd cheers loud.] CC: Why are these idiots cheering? OA: The truth hurts sometimes. [Justin Vince Abel takes the mic back.] JVA: Nelson screwed us! Just like he screws all the wrestlers that don't get along with him. Boys Next Door, we don't like you... but we respect you. [Crowd cheers.] CC: I believe it's Justin Arcola that scrwes all the wrestlers Nelson doesn't get along with. OA: Grow up. JVA: We respect the fact that you won't play the games that Nelson wanted to. We respect the fact that you walked away from Nelson. If we had that option, we would have walked away too. But we weren't lucky enough to walk away. We were let go. Crazy Brave asked Nelson for a singles spot while I was mending. Nelson told him he would think about it. 6 months pass. No call. No communication. Then one day, I'm reading my email. You know the address... getwellJustinVinceAbel@i... [Crowd cheers that Justin actually read their emails.] JVA: I want to thank all of you for your support during my rehabilitation. Your get well messages were greatly appreciated. Crazy Brave: Breaking news from JVANN! DididididididididididiŠ(lame ticker tape sound effects). JVA: Thanks for the sound effects. Yes folks, an injury update from the Justin Vince Abel News Network. Your 24 hours new network bringing you the latest updates on the status of your favourite superstar, Justin Vince Abel. I am now at 85% recovery but the good news is... I've been given permission to begin wrestling! I'll never be 100% ever again but an 85% Abel is better than most people at 100%. CRAZY BRAVE: This has been a JVANN news update. We now return you to your regularly scheduled program. [The smarts laugh at the word "program".] CC: Tell me they didn't just do that. JVA: But Jax and Griffin, we still aren't here to fight you. [Crazy Brave grabs the microphone.] CRAZY BRAVE: Do you know HOW we were fired? I'll tell you HOW! By freaking e-mail! Nelson, the cheap ass fires us by e-mail! Not FedEx, but e-mail! And not any e-mail. NO! That would cost money. Nelson used a free HOTMAIL account! A FREAKING FREE E-MAIL ACCOUNT! He probably walked to the library and e-mailed us from there! We know he doesn't have a computer at the office since the website is never updated! I mean I know Nelson's cheap but he could at least used FedEx to fire us. But Nelson didn't bother to call his lawyers first. JVA: That would cost money. CRAZY BRAVE: Oh right. Well his failure to call his lawyers is going to cost him. Our lawyers called the I/W lawyers and couriered a copy of the contract from our last match. A match we won. A match whereby the winners were to receive a World Tag Team title match. Since we won that match and never received a World Tag Team title match, Mr. Nelson had no choice but to re-instate us. So here we are standing in front of the dozens and dozens of I2I fans. [Crowd pops.] JVA: Boys, you had it right along. The fans are the business. When you're hurt watching from the sidelines, you miss the fans. You miss the little kids coming up to you asking of your autograph. I used to tell them to get lost. I was Justin Vince Abel. But I wasn't just invincible. I was just injured. Lonely days in the hospital rehabing my injuries. 7 long months. You know how many times Nelson communicated with me? Zero. How many pay cheques did I receive? None. I work a PPV and win and couldn't collect my cheque because I was hurt and failed to deliver the title match I had won. So Boys, I want to be the first to extend my hand to you. To shake the hands of two men that have their eyes wide open. I'll look you eye to eye and sayŠ I respect you. I respect the fans. I respect the boys in the back that stand up for themselves... but I don't respect Nelson. [Sammy acting as peacemaker, shakes Abel's hand to the roar of the crowd! All four men shake hands cautiously before climbing out and surrounding the ring.] OA: The Boys Next Door and Intent To Injure are back! And they're surrounding this ring to make sure we see NO interference from the Greater Good! ]=====[IWF/WOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP]=====[ ,-_/ ,-,-. ,--. ,,--. , .-,--. ' | ` | | | `-' |`, | ) ' | \ .^ | | |-. | . | | / , | / `--' ,' `-' `--' `---' `--' `-^--' ,-,---. , ,,--. ,,--. .-,--. |___/ ) |`, | |`, | ' | \ , | \ / | | | | , | / `-^---' `--' `---' `---' `-^--' INFINITE JUSTICE vs. THE STONE FOUNDATION ]===============[ Writer: Wade Thompson FRANCINE: The following contest is a Devil's Triangle tag team match! It is for the __ IWF/WOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP!! __ [POP!!!] FRANCINE: Introducing first ... ["Chop Suey" by System of a Down fades in. A scream echoes through the PA, and is sounds a lot like the "Psychoholic" scream of the Harbinger of Madness, the Hardcore Spokesperson of the 21st Century, and your Idol, Rolemodel, and H-E-R-O! The spotlight hits the end of the entryway, and there stands two men. One is wearing the "STONE FOUNDATION" T-shirt and black jeans and boots. The other wears black and silver trunks with matching boots, and a white and silver jacket.] FRANCINE: Making their way down the aisle at a combined weight of 318 pounds ... FABIAN CRUZ ... "HEAVY MENTAL" DAVE PIETKA ... ... T H E S T O N E F O U N D A T I O N ! ! ! #WAKE UP! {Wake up!} #Grab a brush and put a little makeup! #Hide the scars to fade away the shakeup! {hide the scars to fade away the...} #Why'd you leave the keys upon the table? #Here you go, create another fable! [Pietka and Cruz walk down the aisle as the quick tounge of SoaD starts screaming. The Heavy Mental One shows himself off to their crowd, a mixture of love and hate and hateful love from his "fans". He does a little spin around... before reverting to a more serious look. Cruz follows from behind, maintaining a more earnest demeanor. Cruz steps through the ropes, while Pietka climbs over the turnbuckle and Moonsaults himself onto the canvas.] @YOU WANTED TO! #Grab a brush and put a little makeup! @YOU WANTED TO! #Hide the scars to fade away the shakeup! @YOU WANTED TO! #Why'd you leave the keys upon the table? @YOU WANTED TO! [Pietka spastically jumps around the ring, spouting out God knows what, slapping himself in the head as the song becomes louder and harder... and then he calms down when he hears...] #I don't think you trust... #In... my... Self-Righteous suicide. #I... cry... when angels deserve to... #DIE! [Pietka stands in the middle of the ring, his arms spread out and his psychotic grin on his face. Cruz stands behind him, arms folded. Pietka's smile seems to grow bigger as he looks up and shoves his hand into the air and...NOTHING YOU IDIOT! This is Dave Pietka... He don't need no stinkin' pyro! The two move from their pose. Pietka just trots around the ring a bit, waiting for that opening bell... a crazed look on his face as "Chop Suey" fades out.] FRANCINE: And their opponents ... ["Rifles" by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club starts playing over the arena's sound system, and is immediately met by an enormous chorus of boos.] FRANCINE: Now making their way to the ring, at a total combined weight of 505 pounds ... Here are JOHN REVERE and "DIXIE" DAVIS WASHINGTON ... the __ IWF/WOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS __ ... I N F I N I T E J U S T I C E ! ! ! [The boos explode into a mass onslaught of insults, taunts, and catcalls as Davis Washington and John Revere walk to ringside. Both are smirking with arrogance. Washington's hair dangles down, unkempt, to his shoulders. He wears a t-shirt that says "Live and Die in Dixie" and blue jeans, and instead of wrestling boots he wears black leather cowboy boots. He walks a few steps ahead of his partner, John Revere. Unlike Washington, Revere is cleancut, almost to a fault. There isn't a bit of stubble on his cleft chin, and his thick brown hair is tied back into a short but neat pony tail. He is shirtless but wears red white and blue star spangled wrestling tights and scowls at the fevered fans.] #I see the rifles coming over the hills #And if I shout maybe they'll stop and won't kill [Dixie pauses momentarily and exchanges words with a fan. Though it is impossible to make out what he is saying over the howlings of the thousands of fans, it is obviously derogatory as Dixie points and laughs. A couple of fans actually cheer for the team, waving miniature American flags, but quickly stop when John points them out to Dixie and mouths something that looks suspiciously like "This is what is wrong with America today."] #I see the colours in your eyes #I see the images I own #I see more colours in your eyes #I see the reflections from purple skies [Infinite Justice reaches the ring. Dixie hops up onto the apron and turns to regard the crowd, sneering. John Revere takes the ringsteps, and ignores the boos behind him, instead shouting at Francine to pass him the microphone.] JOHN: And now, for your better education, it's time to sing the national anthem of the greatest, most powerful nation in the history of this world. [The music suddenly changes to "The Star-Spangled Banner, and Dixie and John place their hands over the hearts and begin to sing along. This incites the crowd even further, and they nearly drown out Francis Scott Key's hallowed tune. When the song is over, John tosses the microphone back at Francine and confers with Dixie about the impending match.] "Oooooooohhh!" # Guess whos back, back again # Super's back, tell a friend # Guess who's back, guess who's back, # Guess who's back # Guess who's back... OA: What is he doing out here again!? CC: He's living it up on his last night as interim vice-president, Ambrose! I can't wait to see what he's gonna do about this match! ["Without Me (Super BOOYAH Remix)" by Eminem plays.] # We've created a monster! # Cuz nobody wants to see rasslin' no more they want Super, I aint kiddin' # Well if you want Super, this is what I'll give ya # A long n' skinny weiner mixed with some hard liquor [Super Scott walks the ramp wearing a sleeveless Detroit Lions shirt along with blue windpants with silver stripes. He gets an unnaturally positive reaction.] # Some vodka that'll jumpstart your heart quicker than a shock when you get shocked # At the hospital by the Dr. when Super's not cooperating when he's rockin' the table while ya operating # You waited this long now stop debating cuz Super's back # He's in your face and masturbating # I know that you got a problem with him but your tongue on his nuts makes it complicating [He climbs into the ring, confusing both teams in the process, and grabs a mic.] SUPER SCOTT: And now it is time for the biggest moment of the night. Jillian Marie McCormick has officially pulled the Men In Black out of the tag title match ... "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" SUPER SCOTT: ... and since our marketing department determined "Devil's Straight up Tag Team Match" doesn't quite have the ring of "Devil's Triangle" - I was forced to find a new tag team to take their place. [Infinite Justice and the Stone Foundation keep watching, their interest peaking.] SUPER SCOTT: Not just any team, mind you. I didn't want to leave my fans disappointed in my final moments as VP. I just had to give you guys a farewell present, if this is, in fact, it for me as VP. So I put together a team. I guess you could call them ... ... ... The DREAM Team. [Anticiplation swells.] SUPER SCOTT: Just like how basketball's "Dream Team" beat the likes of Bolivia by 102 points in the 1992 Olympics, wrestling's "Dream Team" will dominate the tag team scene like we haven't seen since L.A. Style ruled the roost. Two legendary singles wrestlers. In my opinion, the two greatest singles wrestlers of all-time. Together. This is big, people. Get ready. Bigger than Woodstock. Bigger than the Premiere of Hannity & Colmes. Bigger than anything you can possibly imagine. THE DREAM TEAM! Okay, okay .. enough with the hype. Enough with the suspense. The first member of The DREAM Team ... ... after a VERY easy match earlier tonight, he's fresh and ready to fight ... _D_ream _T_eam member ... _C_oles .. I guess we can call him .... D.... T... C!!!! [A feedback screech from the loudspeakers pierces the ears of everyone in attendance. Then over the speakers comes...] "Everybody be cool." [... the soundbyte of George Clooney's Seth Gecko in From Dusk Till Dawn.] "You. " [The lights flicker and go out as a spotlight shines over the entrance way.] "Be cool." ["Name of the Game" by The Crystal Method begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd thunders with ... a mixed pop?? Johnny "Cool" Coles steps into spotlight, mirrored sunglasses slung over his face, arms outstrectched treating the mixed pop like standing ovations. He literally basks in the glow. When lights come up Johnny makes his way to the ring wearing maroon tights trimmed with black and a strip down each leg and black boots with a maroon trim around the toe, laces and heel.] [Coles takes his time getting into the ring, sitting on the apron and taunting Infinite Justice and the Stone Foundation. Eventually, he rolls under the bottom rope, hands off his shades and takes a stance next to Super Scott.] SUPER SCOTT: AND HIS PARTNER ... THE SECOND MEMBER OF THE DREAM TEAM ... D!!!!!! T!!!!!! [The crowd explodes] "D-T-P!!!! D-T-P!!!!" "D-T-P!!!! D-T-P!!!!" "D-T-P!!!! D-T-P!!!!" OA: WHAT?! WHAT?! I NEVER THOUGHT HE'D WRESTLE EVER AGAIN AFTER WHAT MATTHEW REASON DID TO HIM! SUPER SCOTT: I DON'T THINK YOU HEARD ME OVER THE CHANTS ... OA: This crowd is going crazy! I can hardly hear myself think! SUPER SCOTT: THE SECOND MEMBER OF THE DREAM TEAM ... D...... T............. ...... ME! IT'S ME ... IT'S ME ... IT'S THAT D-T-DOUBLE-S!!! OA: What the ... No! What a HUGE letdown! The Dream Team consists of DTC... and DTMe aka DT-DoubleS? What a ripoff! CC: You may think so, Owen, but this crowd is still cheering! "D-T-C!!!! D-T-ME!!!!" "D-T-C!!!! D-T-ME!!!!" "D-T-C!!!! D-T-ME!!!!" "D-T-C!!!! D-T-ME!!!!" [Super steps out of the ring, pumping his fist to the chant. Coles remains inside. Infinite Justice take their spot in the corner, not interested in exerting anymore effort than they have to.] DING! DING! OA: There's the bell, and here we go... We've got Johnny Coles and Fabian Cruz inside the ring. Their partners, Super Scott and Dave Pietka are out on the apron, along with the champions Infinite Justice... And we also have The Boys Next Door and Intent to Injure, who appear to be standing guard, out in the aisle. CC: I thought everyone was supposed to be banned from ringside for this match? Get those two idiot teams out of here! OA: They're just out there to make sure no one interferes in this match, especially Nelson and The Greater Good. CC: They won't interfere. OA: Not anymore at least. Cruz and Coles lock up. Side headlock applied by Coles. Cruz pushes Coles to the ropes, and now whips him off... Coles ducks under a wild lariat attempt and bounces off the opposite side... Cruz drops to the ground, and Coles jumps over him and stops. Cruz back to his feet... And Coles slaps him!! [POP!] CC: Oh man, what a disrespectful move by Coles! Cruz looks like he's ready to kill him! OA: Did you hear that fan reaction? The crowd here in Auburn Hills continues to be soidly behind Super Scott and Johnny Coles. CC: The people here are obviously a little bit smarter than I gave them credit for. OA: Cruz and Coles are circling again... Coles just tagged Dixie Washington! Washington wasn't looking, and he's upset that he's been tagged in. CC: Cruz is upset that Coles tagged out. He wants to get a little revenge for that slap he just ate. OA: Coles is messing with Cruz's head, I can see it in the amused look on his face. Washington locks up with Cruz, and immediately slips him into a side headlock. Cruz whips Washington into the ropes and drops down. Washington leaps over hima nd stops. Cruz stands, and ducks a slap by Washington, and he levels Dixie with a huge right hand!! CC: Washginton tried to duplicate what Coles did, and it backfired badly. Washington gets up and once again locks up with Fabian Cruz. Washington with another side headlock... And this time he thumbs Cruz in the eye before he can be whipped off... Quick roll up... ONE!! TWO!! Cruz easily kicks out! CC: Washington tried to catch Cruz off guard, hoping he'd be more worried about his eye than being pinned. OA: Both men are quicl to get back to their feet, and Washington is quick to tag in Super Scott. Cruz is going to tag in Pietka as well. So now we have Dave Pietka and Super Scott in the ring, and they lock up in a collar and elbow tie up... Super Scott easily pushes the smaller Pietka into the corner. Super looks like he will, and now does break cleanly. Pietka comes out of the corner and motions to Cruz. Cruz grabs referee Miguel Hernandez. Hernandez spins and warns Cruz... PIETKA JUST KICKED SUPER SCOTT SQUARE IN THE GROIN!! CC: Pietka loves to do that, and he's quick. The two men had just locked up, and Pietka's foot was lightening fast. OA: Super Scott is on one knee, clutching at his... boys. Pietka off the ropes... Dropkick right on the jaw!! Pietka lifts Super and whips him into the ropes... HURRICANRANA... NO, SUPER SCOTT CAUGHT PIETKA!!! TURNBUCKLE POWERBOMB!! CC: Pietka looks dazed, he hit the turnbuckle in an awkward position. OA: Well there was no skill involved in that reversal by Super Scott, just sheer strength. CC: The one hundred and ten pound weight advantage served him well there. OA: Super Scott is still feeling the effects of that Rochambeau, and he tags.. [BOOO!] No he doesn't tag Johnny Revere. Revere and Washington both just jumped off the apron to get away from the tag. CC: That's some pretty smart tactics from the champs. They can't be eliminated if they aren't in the ring. OA: And they already have the advantage of only being able to be eliminated by submission. Super Scott turns to his own corner now and tags in Coles. Johnny Coles gets back in, and grabs Pietka, who is still in a bad way after that vicious looking turnbuckle powerbomb. Pietka takes a right hand, and he staggers back into his own corner and is tagged by Fabian Cruz. CC: Cruz looks hot. He wants to get Coles back for that slap he took earlier. OA: Cruz charges, and Coles takes him down with a drop toe hold. Coles is paintbrushing Cruz in the back of the head!! CC: I think Coles has a death wish. OA: Cruz is LIVID! And Coles is laughing at him. And now Coles tags in Washington again!! CC: That's some pretty smart wrestling by Coles. He's pissing off Cruz, and making Washington take the brunt of the aggression. OA: Washington is upset. He was busy laughing at what Coles did to Cruz, and wasn't watching Coles. Washington reluctanly gets into the ring, and remember also that Washington cheapshotted Cruz a few minutes ago with a thumb to the eye as well. Washington cautiosly moves towards Cruz... Cruz kicks Washington in the gut... RELEASE NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!! Washington pops up to his feet... HUGE RUNNING LARIAT!! My gawd, he nearly decapitated him!! CC: Cruz looked over at Coles between those moves as if to say, this is what you're going to get. OA: Washington rolls out of the ring... And Revere grabs him... Where the hell are they going? CC: Looks like they've had enough. OA: The champions are taking a powder and heading for the locker room... Or maybe not! Intent to Injure and The Boys Next Door are blocking their way! Griffen and Jax grab Revere, Crazy Brave and Justin Abel grab Washington... AND THE TWO TEAMS FIRE THE CHAMPIONS BACK INTO THE RING!! CC: DAMMIT!! They aren't even supposed to be out here, never mind putting their grimy hands on the champs!! OA: All they did was put them back in the ring, and... Oh boy!! All six men are in the ring!! Cruz has Washington in the corner and he's attacking his ribs with a series of shoulder blocks!! Super Scott has hold of Johnny Revere, and he's drilling him with right hands against the ropes!! Johnny Coles and Dave Pietka are trading right hands on the other side!! CC: Miguel Hernandez has lost control!! OA: Coles drills Pietka and sends him through the ropes! Super Scott with a big boot launches Revere over the top rope!! Cruz drills Washington, who falls to the mat and rolls to the outside! Cruz turns... RIGHT INTO A CLOTHESLINE BY JOHNNY COLES, AND _HE_ GOES TO THE OUTSIDE!! [HUGE POP!!] OA: Coles and Super Scott are the two men left standing, and this crowd is eating it up!! CC: These fans are such hypocrites! They boo ya one week, and cheer the next. They should just make up their damned minds. OA: You have to think they're cheering for Super Scott and Coles by default if anything, though they did seem impressed earlier this evening on the Dark Side with Coles' domination of Shane St Clair. CC: They're still hypocrites, no matter what you say. OA: Super Scott and Coles return to their corner and look on as the bodies on the floor begin to move. Pietka is back in his corner, just getting back up onto the apron. Revere is also getting back to his corner. Washington and Cruz are lying side by side, and they are the legal men. Wait... Revere is going back towards the two men on the floor... He has a chair!! Cruz is standing... *CRRRRRAAAACCCKKK!!* OA: OH MY GAWD!!! JOHNNY REVERE JUST DENTED THAT STEEL CHAIR ACROSS THE FOREHEAD OF FABIAN CRUZ!! CC: And there isn't a damn thing Miguel Hernandez can do about it! The only, ONLY way Infinite Justice can be eliminated is by submission! They have carte blanche here tonight, and Johnny Revere just took full advantage! Revere lifts Cruz and rolls him into the ring. Washington gets up and rolls in, and immediately covers Cruz!! ONE!! TWO!! Cruz puts his foot on the bottom rope!! CC: The Stone Foundation almost exited the match, and would have if Cruz hadn't been so close to the ropes. OA: Washington lifts Cruz... And gets attacked from behind by Pietka!! Revere in the ring now! He grabs Pietka from behind and holds him... SUPERKICK BY WASHINGTON... RELEASE TIGER SUPLEX BY REVERE!! CC: Great tag team move! OA: And Super Scott and Coles seem content to sit back and watch. CC: And why not? If the other two teams are going to beat on each other great! Besides that, this is elimination rules, so Scott and Coles don't need to be involved in the first fall. OA: But it looks like they're going to get involved now, as Washington tags in Super Scott. Super grabs Fabian Cruz and lifts him to his feet. Super Scott scoops Cruz up over his shoulder... RUNNING POWERSLAM!!! Another cover! ONE!! TWO!! Cruz kicks out!! CC: There's still a little something left in Cruz' tank apparantly. OA: Super lifts Cruz and tags in Coles. Johnny Coles takes Cruz and sets him up... Vertical Sup... no NUTCRACKER!! Cruz is down, and Coles heads for the top rope. He leaps... SUICIDE KNEEDROP!! Another cover!! ONE!! TWO!! PIETKA BREAKS IT UP!! CC: Another close call! OA: Coles goes after Pietka who calmly exits the ring. Coles turns... RUGHT INTO A SPEAR BY CRUZ!!! Cruz is firing piston like right hands into the jaw of Johnny Coles!! Finally exacting some revenge for what happened earlier! Cruz stands and lifts Coles with him... DOUBLE UNDERHOOK BACKBREAKER!! CC: Cruz' anger seems to have fueled a second wind. OA: Fabian Cruz lifts Coles and whips him into the ropes... SPINEBUSTER!! MY GAWD WHAT A SPINEBUSTER!! Cruz stands and backs into the ropes... Revere tagged him! Cruz drops and knee on Coles and covers, but Hernandez is telling him to leave the ring. Cruz didn't realize Revere tagged himself in. Johnny Revere lifts Coles and shoves him into the Infinite Justice corner. DAVIS WASHINGTON IS CHOKING COLES WITH THE TAG ROPE!! Johnny Revere is kicking Coles in the abdomen!! Miguel Hernandez can do nothing about it!! CC: But Super Scott can!! OA: Super Scott charges across the ring and tackles Revere!! Fabian Cruz runs into the ring and launches himself... SPLASH ON COLES IN THE CORNER!! Pietka is in and charging in the same direction... Leap frogs Cruz... AND DROPKICKS WASHINGTON OFF THE APRON AND TO THE FLOOR!! CC: Miguel Hernandez has completely lost all resemblance of control of this matchup! OA: In Miguel's defense, it's difficult with three teams involved, and especially when one of them can't be disqualified! CC: Don't make excuses for him! He's just another incompetent referee. OA: Super Scott is escorted back to his corner by Hernandez, and now the big referee is removing The Stone Foundation as well. Johnny Revere stands and lifts Coles. INVERTED DDT!! Revere covers! ONE!! TWO!! Coles kicks out!! CC: Revere stands and tags in Washington. The Champs double whip Coles into the ropes... FLAPJACK!! Washington quickly hops up onto the top rope... MOONSAULT!! Here's another cover!! ONE!! TWO!! Super Scott boots Washington in the head to break up the pinfall!! CC: Another close call. The champs are looking pretty good right now. OA: They're in an enviable position too, with only being able to lose by submission. They haven't yet had to endure a submission attempt. Washington lifts Coles and whips him into the ropes... Monkey flip... No!! Coles stopped and grabbed Washington's legs... BOSTON CRAB!!! HE HAS HIM TURNED OVER!! CC: You spoke too soon Owen! OA: You're right Cordell. No sooner did I finish saying there had yet to be a submission attempt on Infinite Justice, wham there's one right away! Johnny Revere is having none of that though!! A boot to the back of the head knocks Coles off of Washington breaking the hold!! Coles is quick to get up however, and he tags in Pietka! Pietka in and grabs Washington quickly... Single arm DDT!! CC: Pietka should be careful. It'll be hard to make Washington give up if he knocks him out. OA: Not necessarily. Pietka lifts Washington again SPAZ OUT!! That's a Pietka signature manoever! CC: Vicious Enzuigiri to the face. OA: Instinctfully Pietka covers, but Hernandez is reminding Pietka that pinfalls don't ount on Infinite Justice. Pietka now stands and LOCKS WASHINGTON IN A ROYAL OCTOPUS HOLD!! Look at Washington's face, etched with pain!! Revere runs in and breaks the hold, but Cruz is quickly in and chop blocks Revere!! Revere rolls out of the ring, and Cruz says something to Pietka. Pietka goes to the top rope, and Cruz lifts Washington... Pietka is yelling at Cruz... CC: They're going for the Stonecutter DDT, but Cruz is facing the wrong direction! OA: Super Scott has Miguel Hernandez' attention, complaining about something... Coles... Johnny Coles has a chair... *CRRRRRRAAAAAAACCCCKKKKK* OA: Coles just drilled Pietka in the back and knocked him off the top rope!! Washington gets out of Cruz' grip and uses the front of Cruz' tights to propel him through the ropes!!! Revere slides in and covers Pietka!! Hernandez turns!! ONE!! TWO!! THREE!!!!!!!! [POP!!!] OA: THE STONE FOUNDATION ARE ELIMINATED!! CC: What a turn around!! They were goiung so well, and then for whatever reason they couldn't get on the same page for the Stonecutter DDT, and Infinite Justice and Super and Coles teamed up to eliminate them! OA: We're down to Infinite Justice and the team of Super Scott and Johnny Coles., and listen to this crowd, firmly behind Scott and Coles! "SU-PER-COOL!!!! SU-PER-COOL!!!!" "SU-PER-COOL!!!! SU-PER-COOL!!!!" "SU-PER-COOL!!!! SU-PER-COOL!!!!" CC: I didn't think these fans hated Infinite Justice THAT much! OA: Look at Cruz and Pietka walking back up the aisle. They are arguing fiercely about what just happened! CC: I can't say I blame Pietka for being upset, Cruz was facing the wrong way and he took a chair to the back as a result. OA: Here comes Kendra Stone, and she is laying into BOTH of these guys. Cruz is listening, but Pietka is seething... HE JUST KICKED KENDRA STONE IN THE STOMACH... GOD _DAMN_ DDT!!! RIGHT IN THE AISLE!! Pietka just DDTed Kendra Stone on the floor!!! HOW VILE!! Cruz shoves him!! PIETKA KICKS CRUZ AND GIOVES _HIM_ A GOD _DAMN_ DDT!! CC: Pietka just tore his Stone Foundation t-shirt off and threw it on the prone bodies of Kendra Stone and Fabian Cruz. OA: I take it that's the end of the Stone Foundation... Or at least the team of Pietka and Cruz. CC: No kidding. OA: Back to the action, Super is in the ring with Johnny Revere. They lock up, and Super pushes Revere into the corner... Clean break.. NO!! Super drives his elbow into the side of Revere's head to the delight of this crowd! WHOA!! Davis Washington just knocked Johnny Coles off the apron! And now Washington is choking Coles!! Super Scott heads for that side of the ring to stop Washington's attack, and now Washington is yapping at Super Scott. Revere from behind witha rollup!! ONE!! TWO!! THREE!!!!! NO!!!! Super Scott kicked out just in the nick of time!! CC: He should have just continued hitting Revere in the corner instead of worrying about Coles, and he almost paid for it. OA: Super Scott and Revere lock up... *CRRRRRRRAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKK* OA: DAVIS WASHINGTON WITH A CHAIR TO THE BACK OF SUPER SCOTT!! This is unfair!! CC: They're just taking advantage of the rules Ambrose, nothing more. OA: Revere covers!! ONE!! TWO!! Super Scott kicks out!! [POP!!] CC: This isn't looking good for Super Scott and Johnny Coles though Owen. Coles is just getting to his feet after being choked on the floor, and Super Scott just took a chair to the back. OA: Revere tags in Washington, Washington comes in and lifts Super Scott and whips him into the ropes... HURRICANRANA!! Washington scampers to the top rope, and leaps... FLYING ELBOW DROP!! Another cover!! ONE!! TWO!! COLES BREAKS IT UP!! CC: Johnny Coles saved his team there, I'm sure of it!! OA: Johnny Revere nails Coles from behind as he was returning to the corner!! Revere grabs Coles legs and slides under the bottom rope. Revere... CROTCHES COLES ON THE RINGPOST!! RINGPOST FIGURE FOUR!!! Johnny Revere has Coles in a ringpost figure four, and like so many times previous in this match, there is NOTHING Miguel Hernandez can do to stop it!! CC: Coles and Scott know what they were getting into, and they'll have to accept the consequences! OA: Davis Washington is once again perched on the top rope! He leaps... DIXIELAND CRASH CORKSCREW MOONSAULT!!! Washington covers with no Coles available to save Scott!! ONE!! TWO!! THREE!!!!!! INFINITE JUSTICE RETA--OH MY WORD HOLD ON!!! SUPER SCOTT KICKED OUT!!! [HUGE POP!!] CC: Davis Washington can't believe it!! OA: I'm not sure I can!! Revere releases that ringpost figure four and returns to his corner. Washington tags him in... Revere climbs the ropes... OLD GLORY FROG SPLASH!!! ONE!! TWO!! SUPER SCOTT RAISES A SHOULDER!!! CC: UNBELIEVABLE!! OA: Washington and Revere are in complete shock!! They cannot believe that Super Scott was able to kick out of each of their signature moves there!! Revere stands and motions to Washington. Revere grabs Super Scott's legs and Washington runs to the ropes... THE STARS AND BARS!!! Washington caught Super Scott clean on the jaw with the flying forearm!! Revere covers while Washington raises his arms!! ONE!! TWO!! JOHNNY COLES BREAKS IT UP!!! [POP!!!!] CC: Where'd HE come from!?!? OA: Coles came back from the near dead and saved Super Scott from sure defeat!! Revere lifts Super Scott and whips him into the corner. Revere charges... BOOT TO THE HEAD!!! Super Scott got his boot up!!! Now can he make the tag!? Super Scott is using the ropes to pull himself towards Coles... Revere lunges... HE MAKES THE TAG!!! COLES IS IN!!! JOHNNY COLES SUPERKICKS WASHINGTON OFF THE APRON!! CC: Nice cheapshot!! OA: Coles goes after Revere! They exchange right hands! Again!! Coles is gaining the advantage!! Full Nelson applied by Coles... FULL NELSON FACE SLAM INTO THE BOTTOM TURNBUCKLE!! Coles pulls Revere out of the corner and lifts him to his feet. Coles grabs a leg... COUP DE GRACE!!! The Dragon Screw Legwhip into a rolling kneebar!! Look at him torque that knee!! Revere is screaming out in pain!! Washington into the ring now... SUPER SCOTT CUTS HIM OFF!!! CC: Revere is in trouble!! OA: REVERE TAPS!!! HE TAPS!! DING! DING! DING! [EXPLOSIVE CROWD POP!!!] CC: We have new tag team champions!! OA: Super Scott is looking around in disbelief at the crowd reaction, and now hugs Johnny Coles... We have brand new IWF/WOW World Tag Team Champions!! FRANCINE: Here are your winners ... and NEEEEWWWW IWF/WOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS ... ["Name of the Game" by Crystal Method plays.] ... S U P E R S C O T T and ... J O H N N Y "C O O L" C O L E S ! ! ! [The celebreation stops just as quickly as it began when Brian Nelson sudenly appears from behind the curtain.] OA: What's Nelson doing out here? CC: Maybe he came out to congratulate the new champions? OA: I somehow doubt it. The Boys Next Door and Intent to Injure are looking right at Nelson, blocking his way to the ring. Nelson is looking right past them, and looking right at Super Scott. [Nelson adjusts his tie, and raises his right arm, his hand in a fist with his thumb out to the side, and then points it straight down.] OA: Nelson just gave Scott a signal I think... CC: That was the same signal Chris Jurkschat gave Wade Thompson in his match against DTP at November Pain! OA: CHRIS SHANNON AND COOPER CONCRETE JUST ATTACKED SUPER SCOTT AND JOHNNY COLES!! They must have come through the crowd!! CC: The Boys Next Door and Intent to Injure are too preoccupied with Nelson to see what's going on behind them. OA: That's because Nelson is taunting them! Now they're chaisng Nelson, and Nelson is on his horse!! The Boys Next Door and Intent to Injure disappear behind the curtain, and have unknowingly left Super Scott and Johnny Coles to be decimated by The Greater Good, and now Infinite Justice who have joined in on the beatdown!! [POP!!] OA: What is this? [A smaller man, a light heavyweight about 6'1" 220 pounds, jumps over the barricade.] OA: Who the hell is that? It looks like a smaller version of "Dreamlover" Trey Porter... Liek a Mini MeTP. CC: Funny Ambrose... Actually, I know who that is! That little runt is "Idolizer" Trace Michaels! He's been worshipping DTP for something like six years! OA: Really? Michaels is on the top rope... MISSLE DROPKICK TAKES DOWN CHRIS SHANNON!! Coop goes after Michaels... AND EATS A SUPERKICK!! SUPER SCOTT AND COLES ARE COMING BACK ON INFINITE JUSTICE NOW... LEFTS! RIGHTS! CLOTHESLINES! AND THEY CLEAR THE RING!! [POP!!] CC: What is Michaels DOING here?? I can't stand that guy! [ITM asks for a microphone and approaches Super Scott and Johnny Coles.] ITM: Have you guys seen DTP? [Super and Coles look down upon their unlikely hero as if he had a nipple on his nose. They shake their heads no. ITM frowns and drops the mic. He exits the ring and heads up the aisle, presumeably to look for his idol.] OA: We've got new tag team champions in the Dream Team, Super Cool, whatever you want to call them! And the "Idolizer" Trace Michaels is here in the I-Slash in search of his idol, "Dreamlover" Trey Porter! What's NEXT? [The screen fades in to a doorway. The door is ajar, and the name Eric Travers is on it. Travers is sitting in his locker room on the edge of a chair lacing up his boots. The EWA Title is on a table beside him. Travers is wearing a gold Nike t-shirt, and his gold wrestling trunks. The camera moves inside, and shortly thereafter Nate McMannis, and Maverick walk in. Travers looks up, and then shakes his head and goes back to lacing his boot.] ERIC TRAVERS: What the hell do you two want? NATE McMANNIS: This is absurd, Travers. Politics aren't worth splintering this group, the _greatest_ stable in I Slash history... but _come on_! Friggin Brian Nelson has _ruined_ this company... he hasn't given me the time of day since he showed up... he doesn't give a _damn_ about any of the three of us, and you _have_ to know this! [Travers looks like he's about to talk, but McMannis throws a finger up.] NATE McMANNIS: _Wait_... Eric, you and me go back a long way... and we were enemies and now we're friends. So as your friend, I'm tellin' ya that I'm not gonna break up this stable just because you want to vote for Nelson. But what I _will_ tell you is that if you _do_ vote for his ass, and he wins... _Nelson_ will break up the Trifecta. Mark my words. [Just as Travers is about to talk once more... Maverick interrupts him.] MAVERICK: [looks at Travers] Look, Nelson is a good guy with a good mind. But it isn't like we are getting our fair share right now. I want nothing more to see Nelson succeed at this thing, but right now, all I see is a man overstressed and too focused on everything else except what matters. Nelson used to be the best idea man in the business. Then this organization lands in his lap and all he can think about is bringing in guys from the past that used to be successful, and trying to replicate something else here. For God's sake Eric, you are the EWA champion. That thing had to be brought out of retirement. The EWA is old business man. Not taking anything away from you, but you are the three time I Dub champion, why are you relegated to EWA champion? Eric, the right choice for the future of this federation is Justin Arcola. This election is important to this team, but it isn't the only thing that matters. Together, we are the strongest, most solid unit in the history of this organization. There have been times where egos have taken over. Maybe some pride got in the way. But come on Eric, just listen to what we are saying. [Travers finishes lacing his boots and finally looks up at his two teammates.] ERIC TRAVERS: Look, you're both right, this team is bigger than this election, so I'll tell you what... As much as this goes against everything in my being I will consider changing my mind, but I can't promise you guys anything. Now, if you'll excuse me... [Travers stands right in front of McMannis.] ERIC TRAVERS: I have something ELSE more important than this election to prepare for, don't you? [Looks over at Maverick] ERIC TRAVERS: And you? [Travers nudges his way past McMannis and Maverick. They turn and watch him go, and then look at each other as the screen fades.] ==================== STAY TUNED FOR HOUR 2 ==================== [The camera cuts backstage again to the voting table. Razor Ron Jeremy, on crutches, is placing his ballot inside the box. The crowd gives a pretty good pop at the sight of him.] OA: Razor Ron Jeremy now -- he commands more electoral votes than anyone in the federation! And his vote will almost certainly tip the scales in one direction or the other! CC: It's almost a safe bet that RRJ's an Arcola supporter; those two go way back. But with this much at stake, who knows what surprises we'll see in the vote breakdown? ## IT'S TIME! ## ## IT'S TIME! ## ## IT'S ... LARRY ... TIME! (time time time time time) ## [John Fogerty's "The Old Man Down the Road" plays -- first the guitar lick ... then the full band kicks in.] OA: That music. I've heard that before in wrestling. CC: Yeah ... somewhere obscure. Mohawk Valley? OA: EMWC, I think. CC: Yeah, there too. [The I-Sore reads, "Larry Gaines," in big bold block letters that fill the screen. ] OA: It can't be! CC: I'm afraid it is. All too afraid. Has to be him. I mean, _who_ would impersonate him? [A silhouette of Larry is superimposed over the letters, tipping back a drink of some kind.] CC: The silhouette is drinking. It's Larry all right. [And then the vocals ... ] ## He take the thunder from the mountain ... [Larry Gaines enters the portal under the I-Sore. His white bowl cut and salt-and-pepper beard are instantly recognizable. The crowd cheers!] OA: IT'S LARRY GAINES -- IT'S GUNNAR'S FATHER! This guy's a legend! ## He take the lightning from the sky ... CC: Yeah ... in his own mind. And in his own time. When was that, anyway? The Hoover administration? OA: I think that's when Geezer wrestled ... Larry was the Nixon days ... ## He bring the strong man to his begging knee ... [Larry starts the walk down to the ring. He's carrying a paddle ... labelled "Daddy of Bad Ass Discipline" ... ] [... and he's wearing a T-shirt under gray plaid flannel that says, "El Chinlock Suicida," and pictures him applying the "deadly" move.] ## He make the young girl's mama cry ... [He saunters on down with a look of self-satisfied humility ...] ## You got to hidey-hide ... [He steps up into the ring] ## You got to jump and run ... [He goes in between the ropes] ## You got to hidey-hidey-hide ... [He crosses the ring, climbs a corner ... ] ## The OLLLLD MAAAAAAN .... is down the road. OA: What's Larry here for, Cordell Crane? CC: To say Gunnar chickened out against Reason? To ruin I-Slash like he did PCW? OA: I think both of those are untrue ... but we're about to find out. [And Larry, after absorbing cheers, jumps down. He is handed a wireless ring microphone. The music fades out ...] LARRY "CHAINSAW" GAINES -- HELLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOO DETROIT! [The crowd cheers!] LARRY -- As you may know, I'm the father of the greatest wrestler in history, that being Gunnar Gaines. But that's not why I'm here tonight. Gunnar has a match ... he's a big boy ... and he can take care of business himself. And I'm sure that's exactly what he's going to do tonight against Matthew Reason. I promise, I'm not here to interfere in the Alaskan Death Match, in any way ... _whatsoever_ ... even though I could put Reason out with the Chinlock Suicida _just like that_! [He snaps his fingers. The crowd murmurs with skepticism.] CC: That's just ridiculous! OA: I'd have to agree. LARRY -- [ignoring the crowd] No, fans, I appreciate the support, but I'm here tonight to talk about the FUTURE ... of I-Slash. Namely, new talent. See, down in Pacific Coast Wrestling ... I assembled a dream roster. North Fairview ... Texas Jack ... Chad Allen ... Darren Blade ... Randall Sykes ... Darius ... Kyoshi ... the list goes on and on. Even a total stiff like Rally Jackson was considered pretty good by some. CC: _Pretty good?_ Rally rules! And he's signed to the I-Slash now! LARRY -- We were set to break gate records, with a crew like that. But THEN ... the Oregon Boxing and Wrestling Commission reared its ugly ... undersized ... vacuum-packed ...pointy little head. [BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!] [Several BS detectors go off in reference to the notorious bureaucracy.] ### BLOOOOOOP! BLOOOOOOOOP! BLOOOOOOP! ### OA: Man, what a reaction! We're thousands of miles away from Oregon! And yet they know! Here in Detroit ... THEY KNOW! CC: Are you kidding, Owen? Of course they know! Everyone knows! Even these blue collar, rust belt rubes from Detroit know! The ineptitude of the Oregon Boxing and Wrestling Commission is LEGENDARY! [Larry drinks in the reaction, which he's extremely pleased with. He raises the mic back up to his lips ... ] LARRY -- Did you guys know that in Oregon, it's illegal to jump off the top rope? It's illegal to throw wrestlers to the outside? It's illegal to engage in ... you know ... not amateur wrestling ... but sports entertainment? In other words, we can't use ... you know .. "planning"? OA: He's trying to say wrestling's fake. CC: It is? LARRY -- Well, what I'm saying is true! Those REALLY ARE the rules in Oregon! I'm not lying! I'm shooting here! Here, we have a sport with adults and these flat-footed bureaucratic goombahs want to regulate it like it's little kids in tights, grabbing each other on the ass! CC: Owen, get your hands off! Larry didn't just give you permission to do that! OA: ** sigh ** LARRY -- Well, I'm proud to say that in Pacific Coast Wrestling, we violated EVERY SINGLE ONE of their clueless Oregon Boxing and Wrestling Commission rules. And as the unreasonable and totally unprovoked result of THAT ... they came in and closed us down. Right in the middle of a card. Jim Russ taped his darks that night ... but that's it. We were done. Finished. Kaput. Outta business. Just like that. CC: I know. I was there. I was going to face Sampson, Allen and Texas Jack that night. LARRY --And that brings me ... [He extends a finger, swings his arm around, and points ... down.] LARRY -- HERE. I-Slash. The big time. The big leagues. The best, and I really do mean that. [The crowd murmurs, and some cheer.] LARRY -- Young talent is the basis of a good wrestling federation, because you always have people leaving. And you have others who become a tired act, or they just get injured. You need fresh blood ... you need new blood ... you need an infusion. And that's where I come in. There's going to be a tournament for the IWF/WOW Spotlight Title ... a brand new belt ... and I'm pleased to announce that I have just scouted ... AAAAAAAAND signed ... the winner. OA: Larry Gaines says he's a talent scout for I-Slash! And he's already signed a new talent! CC: But can he back up what he's saying? He probably signed some green kid who'll get killed here. Or maybe ... maybe he's bringing back Jacob Josh Jordan! OA: Please ... give Larry some credit. After all, he signed YOU to PCW ... wait. Maybe he doesn't need credit for that. LARRY -- You think my boys, Gunnar and George, champions both, grew up to be winners because of _genetics_? They grew up to be winners because __I KNOW THIS BUSINESS.__ I know what it takes to be a winner, and I taught them how to win. NOW ... I see the same characteristics that made Gunnar great ... in my new signing to the I-Slash. I had to look long and hard to find this man. He's been inactive ... doing other things. He's not someone who went around, screaming, "Sign me." No, I had to look. And believe me, I found. Oh boy, did I found! I'm going to help this guy -- you know, guide his career. And because of that, this wrestler ... and he's no kid, he's a bonafide star ... is going to have the same kind of impact. CC: You mean, Reason's choking him out with a rag? OA: I want to know who it is. Larry's making me curious. CC: Yeah, I've heard that about you. LARRY -- My new signee is taking the next step, with my help, from star to SUPERSTAR. [Larry checks his watch.] Well ... I know you all want to know who I signed. Sorry. It's just not the right time to say. I'll only say this. Tune in to Graphic Nature. You'll _see_. And then ... you'll mark. Oh yes you will. [John Fogerty's "The Old Man Down the Road" plays.] OA: What an announcement! Larry Gaines -- father of a true legend -- is an I-Slash talent scout! CC: Who hired this guy? There's not enough room in the front office for this guy's ego to fit in with the rest of the employees! But his insight into wrestling ... that fits into a thimble, or so. OA: Larry's been everywhere, done it all, worn the T-shirt, and stained it with blood. He didn't do it by being a dummy. I'm real curious to see what he has up his sleeve. CC: One wrinkled, really flabby arm? OA: Would _you_ get in there with him? CC: Um ... sure. I'd just need assurances of some kind. OA: I won't ask. Up next, we have the Life or Death match ... Maverick against Trevor Storm, and the only win is to make your opponent beg for death. What do you think, Cordell? CC: I think they both deserve it. OA: Both deserve what? CC: Death. OA: Both of them? CC: Look. Storm is just a sick freak. And Maverick ... Big M ... who names themselves after a shitty basketball team? OA: They're good now. CC: Yeah, but they were shitty when he picked the name. Oh well ... by the end of this match, he won't be Mav. He'll be Cadav -- as in cadaver. That's another shitty basketball team -- the Cleveland Cadavers. OA: Huh!? CC: You want my opinion, Ambrose? I think Storm takes this one. He's just mad, bad, and VERY dangerous to know. Especially tonight. OA: We shall see -- and I think this one has the potential to be VERY, very bloody. Let's go down to the ring! ]==========[LIFE OR DEATH MATCH]==========[ ,-_/ ,-,-. ,--. ,,--. , .-,--. ' | ` | | | `-' |`, | ) ' | \ .^ | | |-. | . | | / , | / `--' ,' `-' `--' `---' `--' `-^--' ,-,---. , ,,--. ,,--. .-,--. |___/ ) |`, | |`, | ' | \ , | \ / | | | | , | / `-^---' `--' `---' `---' `-^--' MAVERICK vs. TREVOR STORM ]==================[ Writer: Curt Kipp FRANCINE: The following contest is a LIFE or DEATH match! The only form of victory is to make your opponent beg for DEATH! [POP!!!!!] FRANCINE: Introducing first ... [The crowds buzzin'. Settling overall silence. Nothing. Just the voices of your neighbor.] [Whiiiiiiiiiiiiish....(a steady breeze over the PA.)....Whiiiiiiiiiish.] OA: Is that wind blowing? CC: I _think_ so. [LIGHTS OUT!!!] [Whiiiiiiiiiiiiish....whiiiiiiiiiiish. Darkness. Whiiiiiiiiiiiish.] OA: We can't see a thing. And I'm starting to get a little.... CC: Pussy. OA: Excuse me. [Voices, soft female voices begin to whisper over the PA. Whisper through the rustling of a cold night's breeze. The voices overlap, chaotically chanting the same thing....They break, continue, whisper, yell, _SCREAM!_....they stop.] OA: What we're they saying? [A single voice whispers over the PA.] V/O: [whispering].....death. [The wind continues, but the voices seemingly fade into the darkness wence they came. Still the people wait. The lights out.] _PLEASE ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE MYSELF!!!_ .........CRRRRRRRRRRASH!........... .........KERRRRRRR-POOW!........... [Piro erupts on stage with two thundrous explosions. Immediately the lights once again burn brightly.] #I'm a man of wealth and taste# #I've been around for a long, long year# #Stole many a man's soul and faith# [Guns n' Roses' cover "Sympathy for the Devil" _YANKS_ the crowd to their feet. Boos, jeers, profanity, gestures....signs....you names it. They hate this man.] #And I was 'round when Jesus Christ# #Had his moment of doubt and pain# #Made damn sure that Pilate# #Washed his hands and sealed his fate# #Pleased to meet you# #Hope you guess my name# #But what's puzzling you# #Is the nature of my game# [And there _HE_ is. Decked out in some loose brown khakis, light brown colored boots, and sporting a bare chest. _HIS_ hair falling about his shoulders....a calm, collected smile already formed on his lips.] FRANCINE: Hailing from Greensboro, North Carolina ... Weighing in at 240 pounds and standing 6 feet 6 inches tall... [He stops at the top of the ramp....waiting for his proper introduction.] ... T R E V O R S T O R M ! ! ! [That's all it takes....it's like a switch. Suddenly the smiles gone, the arrogance is gone. Storm's eyes are like stone. His expression empty...focused.] #Pleased to meet you# #Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah# #But what's confusing you# #Is just the nature of my game# #Just as every cop is a criminal# #And all the sinners saints# #As heads is tails# #Just call me Lucifer# #'Cause I'm in need of some restraint# [Trevor Storm pulls himself into the ring, springing to his corner. He tilts his neck to the right and left loosening up. His eyes burning with rage.....and _hatred._] OA: What a presence. CC: You aren't kidding. This man is scary. FRANCINE: And his opponent ... ### YOU'RE UNBELIEVABLE ### [The lights go down as the entrance is filled with green laser lights and smoke.] OA: The Big M is here and he is ready for Life_OR_Death! CC: He could do us all a huge favor right now and simply slash his wrists. After all they call this the I-Slash! [Maverick appears through the smoke, standing with his arms outstretched, facing the audience. He drops his arms to his sides and lifts his head to see the capacity crowd now in a roaring chant of, "MAV-ER-ICK!!!! MAV-ER-ICK!!!!" "MAV-ER-ICK!!!! MAV-ER-ICK!!!!" Signs are shown that read, "The Big M, Just how big is he?", "Trifecta is Perfecta", and "Maverick will take your best shot". He starts the walk to the ring as the lights start to come back up. He slaps some of the outstretched hands as he walks down the aisle, and then ... ] OA: MAVERICK, sprinting to the ring! [Head-first slide ..... ] HE'S IN! AND HE'S ALL OVER STORM! CC: Yep. Like Hellshock on a drag queen. [Maverick pounds away on Storm. Punch, punch, punch ... forearm smash!] OA: Will you stop with Hellshock? Maverick's a house of fire, and he's built out of bricks! CC: You're saying he's a brick shithouse? [Maverick throttles the smaller Storm by the collarbones, hefting him into the corner. He grabs the middle ropes, backs up, and buries a shoulder right into Storm's gut. Storm keels over. ] OA: Why do you keep saying "shit"? CC: WE'RE ON PAY PER VIEW, BABY!! [Maverick buries another shoulder. Storm looks even more miserable. Maverick backs up ... Storm stumbles out ... Maverick grabs him in a bear hug ... ] OA: POWERSLAM! POWERSLAM! [Maverick instinctively covers, but then jerks Storm up by the hair. He stands, turns, runs Storm to the ring edge, and throws him right out ...] OA: INCOMING! INCOMING! [... onto the announce table, where Ambrose and Crane are both seen getting out of the way. Storm slides onto Ambrose and Crane's chairs, falling to the ground. Maverick is already out and on him.] OA: MAVERICK'S KICKING AWAY WITH THOSE METAL-PLATED BOOTS! [WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!] OA: Those are going right in the kidneys! [Crowd roar, as several people in the front rows stand up to see.] OA: MAVERICK IS STANDING RIGHT ON STORM'S BACK! HE'S PUTTING 350 POUNDS OF PRESSURE -- 350 POUNDS OF PAIN -- SQUARELY ON STORM'S BACK! [Maverick steps off, crouches down, and pulls up Storm by the hair. Storm is bleeding, just slightly, from the corner of his mouth.] OA: Care to revise your prediction now, Cordell? Maverick's just ABUSING Trevor Storm! CC: Yeah, but I don't know that Storm even really cares. He's had a miserable life, and may not care if it ends. But to me, that just makes him more dangerous. [!!!!! CLANG !!!!!!!!] OA: CHAIRSHOT BY MAVERICK! AND I DON'T THINK IT WAS ON THE SWEET SPOT, EITHER! [Storm hovers in a standing stagger, then falls over backwards stiff as a board.] CC: Mav hit Storm with the edge of the chair. I'll have to remember that one. Might come in handy. My mom sometimes gets out of line. [Mount by Maverick. Punches ... ] CROWD: One! Two! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! [Maverick looks to the crowd ... they roar back!] CROWD: SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN! ELEVEN! TWELVE! [Maverick stands.] CROWD: THIRTEEN! f o u r t e e n . . . CC: He's stopped punching now! Sheesh! These fans are idiots! OA: They were just counting your mental age. You see they've stopped now. [Maverick's rooting under the ring ... and pulls out a wheeled platform. He lays Storm down on it ... and then starts kicking him, pushing him down the entrance aisle.] OA: I think Maverick's headed backstage with Storm. He hasn't even asked -- hasn't even asked -- if Storm wants to give up yet. CC: You'd have to KILL Storm before he'd choose death. OA: Well, I think Maverick's the same way, and he's got the major edge right now. Regardless, something has to give tonight. [Maverick reaches down and starts pushing the wheeled platform -- with Storm on it -- with his hands. He runs, building up speed ... lets go ... ] [!!! CRASH !!!!] OA: Storm's been rammed right into the entrance portal! [Storm collapses off the wheeled platform in a heap, sending the platform rolling back toward Big M ... who picks it up. Maverick carries it over towards a Marshall amp stack by the ring entrance ... and tips an amp onto the platform.] CC: What's Mav doing? [He's pushing the amp, on the platform, toward Storm, at a high rate of speed. Then -- instead of letting go -- he hops on.] OA: MAVERICK EXPRESS! STORM'S GONNA BE ROADKILL! [!!!! CRASH !!!!] OA: THAT WAS MORE THAN 500 POUNDS ON WHEELS! [The platform rolls halfway up Storm's torso from the side, and then the amp and Maverick fall off -- directly onto Storm. They roll off him.] OA: Referee Michael Hall is handing Maverick the microphone ... [But Mav tosses it aside, sending Hall scurrying to pick it back up. He lays a few more kicks into the crumpled Storm.] CC: I'm just stunned by this. Maverick is just completely OWNING Storm right now. I mean, he's just on him tighter than Mary-Kate Olsen's ... OA: Stop right there. Even Pay Per View has its limits. I remember when she was four years old on Full House. It feels icky to hear you talk about her that way. CC: Mary-Kate's all grown up ... and when I watch her, so am I. OA: And Ashley? CC: Ashley's an ugly bitch. I can't believe those two are related. [Maverick's working methodically now, his steam used up by his intense onslaught on Storm.] OA: But they're identical -- never mind that! Maverick has Storm up now over his shoulder! [Step one, step two, step three ... RUNNING POWERSLAM!] OA: THAT was on the concrete! Storm is dead! Just lifeless! THAT killed him! CC: Poor strategy on Mav's part. Storm can't choose death if he's unconscious ... or already dead. [Maverick jerks Storm up by the hair again, as Michael Hall holds the mic in Storm's face, knowing Mav won't put it there himself.] OA: Hall wants to know if Storm gives up! [Not a sound from Storm.] CC: SEE! What did I say! [So, Maverick drags Storm through the entrance curtain ... ] OA: WE'RE GOING BACKSTAGE! Our cameras will stay with this the whole way! [Backstage ... a cameraman races to keep up as Maverick runs Storm, by the hair, past the forklifts and travel cases filled with gear, and past a 5'9" dude with light brown hair and an Ichiro Suzuki T-shirt holding a clipboard. They reach a rolling overhead door ... ] OA: OUTSIDE THEY GO! [... and Storm reverses, throwing Maverick off the edge of what looks like a loading dock outside. Maverick lands on a few stacks of wooden pallets, making the wood break.] OA: REVERSAL! I don't know how Storm did that, but he reversed it! [Storm runs ... jumps off the loading dock ... ] [!!!! CRASH !!!!!!] OA: OH MY GOD! [Storm hits a belly splash onto the prone Maverick, breaking the wooden pallets down further from the impact.] OA: Storm has just launched all 244 pounds of his body onto Maverick! And I'd be surprised if Maverick isn't all full of splinters now! CC: It's one thing to put someone through a table. But pallets ... that's dicey. Those are full of splinters and nails. [Storm rolls off the compressed stack of pallets, while Maverick lies on top motionlessthere. Storm backs up a step, then rams an elbow into Mav's head. He grabs Mav by the head and pulls him off the pile. Maverick drags the pallets with him, partially, and the stack just collapses.] OA: THERE'S WOOD EVERYWHERE! [Maverick is on his knees and hands, facing Storm. He starts to get up ... but Storm double-underhooks him. Maverick struggles slightly to free himself, as Storm shakes his head back to get his hair out of his face. He lifts, then brings Mav down with a sitdown powerbomb.] [!!!! CRUNCH !!!!!!] OA: TIGER BOMB! TIGER BOMB ON THE BROKEN WOOD! [Storm slowly gets up ... dusts the splinters off his butt and thighs ... and looks down.] OA: Maverick refuses to die! He's reaching up, trying to get up! [Storm reaches down and rubs Mav on the top of the head, a look of disgust on his face.] OA: Storm picking up Maverick ... SMALL PACKAGE! [Maverick has Storm hooked ... then Storm reverses ... then Maverick reverses ... then Storm .... ] OA: They're rolling on the broken wood, but pins don't matter! The only way to win is to make your opponent say they choose death! [Storm rolls away, standing before Maverick can. Maverick starts to stand ... and Storm scoops him up onto his shoulder ... in tombstone position. He kicks some of the broken wood away ... to reveal concrete. He lifts slightly ... and drives Maverick head first into the pavement.] OA: TOMBSTONE! TOMBSTONE! [Maverick just flops over back-first onto the ground. Storm stands back up, claps his hands to knock off dust, and then kicks Maverick.] OA: Storm is just completely in control at this point! Earlier it was all Maverick, but not now! CC: Care to revise your prediction, Ambrose? Hmmmmm? OA: I didn't make a prediction! CC: Oh ... right. [Maverick grabs onto Storm to try and stand up. But Storm grabs a front facelock ... twirls a finger around with his other hand ... ] OA: He's winding up ... [THUD-CRUNCH!] OA: DDT! DDT right on the splinters! Maverick is taking insane punishment here! [Storm stands, and brings Maverick to his feet.] OA: Maverick's bleeding! [Indeed. Lines of blood are dripping down from Maverick's forehead as he wobbles around. He drops to both knees. Cut to Owen and Cordell talking at ringside, looking at their monitors.] OA: He's had it! Maverick's off in another world! And that blood loss might just take away what little energy he has left! CC: There's no Trifecta to help him in this match! Poor baby! OA: Yeah, and _you've_ never used running buddies to get an advantage, either! CC: I haven't! Sure, I've had running buddies, but I would have beaten my opponents without them! [Owen just shakes his head, rolling his eyes. The shot switches back to the action by the loading dock. Storm is running Maverick's head against the stucco-like cinder block walls of the loading dock -- leaving a red streak on the wall.] CC: Maverick's leaving a trail! And I thought just my girlfriend did that! OA: You have a girlfriend? I guess, "had" a girlfriend, now. CC: (grumble) [The loading dock ramp leads to a street, and the two grapplers have reached the top of the ramp. Storm whips Maverick forward -- into four-lane (with a median) traffic. A 1982 Chrysler Cordoba screeches to a halt right in front of Maverick.] OA: They're in traffic! This is getting totally out of control! Storm is consumed by nothing but evil and blind rage! [Maverick staggers forward a step -- then lurches back as a BMW quickly passes the stopped Cordoba.] OA: That was close! That driver almost hit Maverick! CC: I think Storm wishes he HAD! [Storm pushes Maverick forward, and he tumbles onto the landscaped median. Storm follows after him. The Cordoba drives off, but not before the driver rolls down a window and extends a middle finger at both men.] DRIVER: YOU ASSHOLES! [SCREEEEEEECH! He burns rubber.] [But Storm doesn't even hear it. He's shoving Maverick across the street. Maverick's out cold on his feet. Storm looks up at the other side of the street and sees ... ] OA: KRISPY KREME! CC: Where!? OA: It's a damn Krispy Kreme store! [Storm's eyes light up dementedly. He grabs the bloodied Maverick by the hair and pulls him along, into the front door of the store, as several customers step back uneasily. Storm throws Maverick right over the front counter!] CC: Storm's ordering one glazed Maverick to go! OA: Knock it off. This could get serious. [Indeed. Behind the counter, they have the donut conveyor machine, which processes the donuts. A conveyor through a chamber makes the dough rise, and then it runs along a flat bed that cooks the donuts in boiling vegetable oil. Shortly after that, the donuts are lifted out of the oil and run under a basin that glazes them.] OA: They're behind the counter! Storm has pushed Maverick, his back up against the boiling conveyor belt! CC: Oh shit! [Storm reaches out, with both hands, and grabs Mav by the neck.] OA: DOUBLE CHOKE! STORM HAS MAVERICK UP! CC: Jesus ... OA: DON'T DO IT, STORM! PLEASE! [------> !!!!!!!! CRASH !!!!!!!!!!!! <---------] [------> !!!!!!!! SPLASH !!!!!!!!!!!! <---------] [------> !!!!!!!! CLANG !!!!!!!!!!!! <---------] OA: ... CC: ... [The crowd roars. Storm has just ... ] OA: _POINT_ ... _OF_ ... _AUTHORITY_! RIGHT INTO THE BOILING OIL! CC: Holy freaking shit. [The conveyor has collapsed to the floor, and Maverick is rolling like someone trying to put out burning clothes. Storm just stands, looking at him. Michael Hall hands Storm the mic. Storm holds it out.] STORM: Life or death? MAVERICK: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! [And then he reaches back, and splashes Storm in the face with oil!] OA: There's your answer, Storm! There's your answer! CC: Those machines are expensive. THERE'S a check the new president won't want to write. [Storm clutches his face. Maverick finally rolls off the fallen conveyor, and lies face first on the floor. Partially-cooked doughnuts are stuck to his back, which is beet red. The shock seems to have enraged him. He advances on Storm.] OA: Mav has Storm by the neck, and he's dragging him out of the Krispy Kreme! [CRASH!] OA: But first he slams him into the wall next to the door, Al Bundy style! [They exit. People leave them a wide path, but glare at the battling duo just the same.] CC: Look how many fat people's evenings have been ruined! [Maverick looks toward the Palace of Auburn Hills. Then he turns away in another direction, dragging Storm along!] OA: This one is NOT going back in the arena! Not yet! No arena can contain the hatred between these two men! CC: But, they're both running out of gas. Clearly, I think they're tired of this match and want it to end. But neither one will yield to the other. [Tossing his own crusty, fried, bloody hair out of his face, Maverick heads for a parking lot. He rams Storm's head into a light post. Storm decks him back. They brawl ... OA: STORM! ... MAVERICK! ... STORM! ... MAVERICK! ... STORM! ... MAVERICK! ... STORM! [Storm strikes again ... then kicks Maverick in the abdomen. He hooks up a suplex ... lifts ...] OA: There's a car behind them! I don't think Storm knows it! [The car pulls away ... the driver had been inside and knew to move. Storm falls back, dumping Maverick onto the pavement.] OA: This is absolutely brutal. Maverick had donuts embedded in his back ... now he has parking lot gravel. Those lots are filthy. CC: Hey, this is Detroit. He's lucky there's not a syringe in his back. I do see a wad of bubble gum, though. [Storm's up slowly ... Maverick's up even more slowly. Storm hooks him up for a suplex.] OA: He's up again ... [And he turns the vertical suplex into a piledriver, dropping Maverick right onto his head.] OA: OL' PAINLESS! OL' PAINLESS! [Storm stands right back up, brushing gravel off his knees. Maverick is down, motionless.] OA: Maverick can't give up right now, because he's out cold! Storm's now looking around ... [And he finally grabs Mav by the head and stands him up. He takes him over to a spot where the parking lot is terraced. The two men are standing on a raised location, and more rows of parking are on a lower level, the levels separated by a retaining wall.] OA: Storm hooks up Maverick again ... CC: This is too much. He's going to kill the guy. Maverick's neck might already be hurt, and there probably ain't no "might" about it. [Storm has Maverick up in the vertical suplex ... then drops him down into a piledriver while jumping down to the lower level. It's a jumping screwdriver.] OA: __SOUL WOUND!__ __SOUL WOUND!__ [Maverick's down, motionless. Storm is emotionally spent. He stands up, not sure what to do next.] OA: You can't make an unconscious man talk! CC: Yeah, but you can give him a new hairdo. [Storm looks down at Maverick ... then finally rolls him over onto his belly. He plants a knee right in the back of Mav's neck, at the top of his back, and pulls on his chin.] OA: IT'S A SUBMISSION HOLD! I don't know what to call it! CC: Call it effective. STORM: GIVE UP! MAVERICK: AAAAAAAAARRRAAAAAAARRRRRRRAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHH! [Michael Hall holds a microphone in front of Maverick's face.] STORM: GIVE UP! MAVERICK: AAAAARRRRAAAAGH! LIFE! [Storm redoubles his effort, pulling back harder on Mav's chin.] STORM: IT'S ALL OVER, MAVERICK! BEG FOR DEATH! MAVERICK: AAAAAAAAARRRAAAAAAARRRRRRRAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHH! [Maverick spits.] NEVER! OA: I don't think he can hold on. Do you? CC: I really don't. [Storm grits his teeth, pulling back on Maverick's chin as hard as he possibly can.] MAVERICK: AAAAAAAAARRRAAAAAAARRRRRRRAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHH! STORM: GIVE UP! GIVE UP, OR I'LL BREAK YOUR NECK! OA: Maverick's in tremendous pain here! But it would hurt him even more, to give up to "Revolution" Trevor Storm! CC: It's obvious Maverick should just quit while he can still save his career. STORM: I CAN MAKE YOU HURT A LOT MORE! WHAT'S IT GONNA BE, MAV? LIFE? OR DEATH? [Hall holds out the microphone.] MAVERICK: LIFE, YOU ASSHOLE! [Storm releases the hold, stands, and kicks Maverick in the back.] OA: Storm couldn't make Maverick give up! [Maverick stands, groggily. Storm hooks up a front facelock. He goes to lift for an implant DDT ... and down.] OA: He can't get Maverick up! CC: The man's 350 pounds. It's hard to suplex a guy that big early in a match, let alone THIS match and let alone now. [Maverick's still in Storm's front facelock. He reverses the momentum and does some lifting of his own ... ] OA: NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX! And a bridge! Out of instinct only, no doubt! CC: Pins don't count! [Both men are flat on their backs, on the parking lot pavement. They breathe heavily but don't move.] OA: These two men have decimated each other tonight! And they've both just about had it! But neither one wants to give up! CC: We could be here all night! [Storm rises slightly ahead of Maverick. Storm stands. Maverick stands. Storm pushes him back against the bed of a pickup. Storm goes to punch ... ] OA: MAVERICK HAS A ROPE! He got it out of that truck bed! [And faster than Ambrose can say, it's around Storm's neck.] OA: STORM'S CLUTCHING HIS NECK! MAVERICK HAS THAT ROPE AROUND IT, AND HE'S PULLING IT TIGHT! CC: Storm can't breathe, for Christ's sake! He's turning blue! [Maverick looks ahead ... and sees a road trench below the parking lot they're in. There's an edge, good for throwing people off of.] OA: THAT MUST BE 40 FEET DOWN! AND STORM IS HELPLESS! IF HE DOESN'T SAY DEATH, HE'S GOING TO GET THROWN OFF OF THERE! [Maverick looks at Storm. Hall holds out the mic. Storm shakes his head.] OA: MAV'S TAKING STORM TO THE EDGE! AND HE'S THROWING -- BUT STORM'S HOLDING ON! HE WON'T LET HIMSELF GO OVER! [They're in a collar and elbow tie up -- with Storm's back to the edge. With the road 40 feet below in a trench.] OA: Storm's pushing back! But Maverick's pushing hard! MAVERICK: I COULD BE PUSHING HARDER, STORM! DO YOU CHOOSE DEATH ... OR DO YOU CHOOSE _DEATH_!? [CROWD POP!] OA: These Michigan fans want to see Maverick win! CC: No they don't! They want to see Storm die! They're sick, blue collar, Pontiac-building nitwits! They average six beers per lunch break! [Maverick lets go of the collar and elbow, and just punches Storm in the face.] CROWD: FALL! FALL! FALL! OA: I don't even want to watch this. I can't. This is too much. The I-Slash officials never should have signed it. I don't even want to be here. [Mav resumes the collar and elbow.] CC: You know, if Storm falls off, I bet he tries to take Big M with him! [Storm has a heel on the edge, but manages to keep from being pushed off. He lunges forward and Maverick sidesteps.] OA: That was close! They appear to be out of trouble, now. I can't imagine what would have happened if Trevor Storm fell off that ledge. Or Maverick. CC: Well, with Maverick, McDonald's could have continued the McRib an extra week. Extra meat supply, you know. OA: THIS IS SERIOUS! [Maverick drags Storm over to a Dodge Dakota truck. He climbs into the truck bed, pulling Storm up with him. Then he climbs on top of the cab, and pulls up Storm again.] OA: Maverick has Storm in a bear hug on top of that pickup cab! [He squeezes -- then spins around and hits a spinebuster slam down to the hood.] OA: OH MY GOD! __GROUND ZERO!__ ... GROUND ZERO TO THE HOOD OF THAT TRUCK! [Storm and Maverick flop off the truck to the ground. Maverick stands up slowly ... Storm doesn't.] OA: THAT HAS TO BE IT! IF MAVERICK TAKES IT FURTHER, STORM'S GOING TO HAVE BROKEN BONES! AND LOTS OF THEM! [Maverick raises Storm to his feet ...] [<------!!!!!!!!!!! CRASH !!!!!!!!!!!!--------->] [... and thows him over the hood of the truck through the windshield!] OA: STORM HAS HAD IT! HE _HAS_ TO BE FINISHED! CC: I agree. This is too much. Maverick's just beat him up too much, and he's taken him to the edge of death. He has to give up. OA: MAVERICK HAS THE MIC, AND HE'S READY TO STICK IT IN THAT TRUCK CAB! [Mav reaches for the door of the truck. He opens it ... and freezes.] OA: ... CC: ... [Maverick ... slowly ... backs away.] [He raises the mic to his mouth.] MAVERICK: This is how it ends, Trevor!? Huh!? [Maverick pounds his fist over his heart.] MAVERICK: YOU WANT THE EASY WAY OUT!? THEN DO IT, BIG MAN!! DO IT!! LET'S END THIS NOW!! KILL ME!! GIVE ... ME ... _DEATH!!_ [CROWD: BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!] DING! DING! DING! OA: WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED!? CC: I'm just as puzzled as you are, Ambrose. Apparently Maverick has just lost this match. Maverick's just called for death! OA: I heard it ... I don't believe it. Maverick had the edge ... but Storm has won! [The camera moves in to get a closer look inside the truck. Storm lays across the front seat with his back against the passenger door. The glove compartment is flung open with all sorts of papers on the floor. In his quivering hand ... a gun.] OA: My God. Storm has ... CC: He has a gun, Ambrose. A GUN! OA: Jesus H. Christ. [Storm looks more terrified than anything. The gun falls from his hand as he opens the door and slides slowly out. He staggers off into the dark as Maverick stares at the ground and gathers his nerves.] OA: I'm in shock. Trevor Storm has won this match ... Maverick has lost. But both men are still alive, and that's pretty amazing when you think about it. CC: Owen, they were both beaten bloody, and then we could have easily lost Storm into that road trench. Or if Storm had pulled that trigger ... OA: I know, Owen, I know. That was no B.S. gun. That was real. I still can't believe it. [The camera cuts backstage to find Hades stomping down the hallway. Steam is practically coming out of his ears as he turns the corner and enters his locker room.] HADES: Oh, Christ... [The camera pans over to show "The Shocker" Mack Ensassarol knocked out on the floor and the Masked Man nowhere in sight. Hades runs over to Mack and begins to wake him up.] HADES: Mack, Mack...wake up! What happened? Where'd that son of a bitch go? [Mack wipes the rubs his eyes, and slowly awakens.] MACK: Momma? HADES: No, it's me, Mack! Jesus, what happened? MACK: Hades? Oh no....I'm sorry, H. I turned my back for a second. I thought I heard you coming down the hall, so I took a peek outside. When I turned around, that cat in the mask nailed me in the head and was out of here before I hit the ground. HADES: DAMN! DAMMIT!! [Hades looks as if he's about to burst. He winds up and kicks the camera that he stole off the cameraman earlier that was still sitting on the bench recording. Anthony Edwards enters the room.] AE: Hades, I heard what happened! Is she okay? [Hades doesn't answer but paces back and forth. Edwards notices the smashed camera.] AE: My camera?! Geez, Hades, these are expensive! [Hades just shoots Edwards a cold glare.] AE: Sorry...I'll just take it and get out of your way. [Edwards picks up the broken camera and scurries off down the hallway. Macklooks somberly at Hades.] MACK: I'm sorry I let him get away, H. HADES: *sigh*...it's not your fault, Mack. I'll find out who that son of a bitch is, and when I do... [Hades clenches his fist and his face turns bright red, as he struggles to find the words, but none come to him.] HADES: ...it's about time for our match, Mack. I'll see you in the ring. [Hades walks out of the locker room, on his way to ringside. Mack waits a few seconds, and then leaves himself.] OA: I have to say that I am somewhat upset that this masked man got away. I'm no Hades fan, but I sure was looking forward to seeing some payback there, and more importantly, on seeing WHO this masked man is. Could it be someone working for Brian Nelson? He was wearing a "Brian Nelson For President" t-shirt. And I also wouldn't put it past someone like Eric Travers to pull a stunt like that. We know there's no love lost between him and Hades. Or maybe it's someone completely different! CC: Who cares? We'll never know now anyhow. Mack let him get away. OA: I don't know, Cordell. I don't think we've gotten to the end of this story just yet. Now folks, get ready! CC: Oh, I can't wait! OA: The moment we've been waiting for is here...the votes have been tabulated, and Anthony Edwards is about to announce the winner of the IWF/WOW Presidential Election! "Oooooooohhh!" # Guess whos back, back again # Super's back, tell a friend # Guess who's back, guess who's back, # Guess who's back # Guess who's back... ["Without Me (Super BOOYAH Remix)" by Eminem plays.] [POP!] [Super Scott and Anthony Edwards make their way to the ring to a big ovation.] OA: And listen to the reaction to one-half of the NEW Tag Team Champions! CC: I can't believe this! [Scott and Edwards enter the ring. Edwards has a microphone.] ANTHONY EDWARDS: Ladies and gentlemen, the votes have been tabulated three times...and the result is... . . . we have a _TIE_! [BOOOOOOO!!!!] OA: What? How can that be? [Edwards waves off the crowd.] ANTHONY EDWARDS: Hold on, hold on. It's not what you think. Our tie is 46 electoral votes to 46, out of a possible 100. Which means that someone hasn't voted yet. CC: You're kidding me! ANTHONY EDWARDS: Super Scott -- [POP!] CC: Oh, come on! ANTHONY EDWARDS: -- and I have counted the ballots themselves, and there is exactly one still outstanding! I'd like to ask that person to come out now and help us break this deadlock... OA: One person? A 46-to-46 tie? That means whoever hasn't voted has 8 electoral votes, and that means... [The opening riffs of Metallica's "Sad But True" blare across the arena.] OA: IT'S _THIS_ MAN! [Eric Travers and Tricia Lane step out from behind the curtain to a mixed reaction and make their way to the ring.] CC: Eric Travers holds the fate of the IWF/WOW in his hands! ANTHONY EDWARDS: Eric...the floor is yours. [Edwards hands the microphone to Travers. He and Super Scott exit the ring.] OA: Eric Travers initially broke ranks with the Trifecta and supported Brian Nelson. But just as recently as tonight, it appeared he might be leaning towards Arcola. CC: How fitting is it that it all comes down to him to make this choice that's going to affect so many people? ERIC TRAVERS: You know... This damn election has caused a whole lot of crap to go down, not only across the entire organization, but also within the ranks of the Trifecta. And for weeks I've been making my feelings known about what I think of the candidates. I've made it quite clear that my support has leaned towards Brian Nelson. [BOOOO!!] ERIC TRAVERS: And I have also made it quite clear why I oppose Justin Arcola, and that is because of the owner of this company Chris Jurkschat. [Mild pop] ERIC TRAVERS: This decision would have been easy if not for my Trifecta teammates Nate McMannis and Maverick, both of whom have urged me, and made one final plea tonight for me to vote for Arcola. They've made me at least consider that Arcola is his own man, and that maybe Chris Jurkschat is not really an influence. I've taken all of this information and considered everything... And I've made my decision... * BANG! * "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I break yo' concentration?" OA: Aww, no...what is this? ["Miserlou" explodes over the PA and Brian Nelson steps out onto the stage. He is flanked by Shannon, Concrete, and Infinite Justice. Nelson carries an oversized tan envelope in his hand.] CC: The election isn't over yet, Ambrose! That means the campaign isn't over! OA: Brian Nelson and the Greater Good are making their way out here. They want Travers to remember where his bread is buttered. CC: No doubt about it. [Nelson and the Greater Good enter the ring and take up flanking positions all around Travers.] OA: Look at this! It resembles an episode of The Sopranos, for God's sake! CC: You kidding? Nelson could whup the ass of Tony, Paulie, and Big Pussy all at once! NELSON: Before you say anything, Travers...there's a little bit of news that I think you...and all these miserable ingrates out here... [HEAT!] NELSON: ...oughta be made aware of! Now I know Justin Arcola has put forth this great vision of how different the I-Slash will be when he's in charge, about how much better things are gonna be for everyone. But let me put this question to you all: how do you think Justin's gonna be able to manage all that when he can't even manage...his _own life_! OA: What is he talking about? [Nelson raises the envelope into his hand.] NELSON: I am here tonight...with definitive _proof_...that Justin Arcola is _not_ infected with HIV! [BOOOOO!!!] OA: Not _this_ again! [Living Colour's "Cult of Personality" blasts over the PA and the crowd EXPLODES!] OA: OH YEAH! [Justin Arcola steps out from behind the entranceway and marches straight to the ring, not stopping once.] CC: Well, all the cards are about to be left on the table right now! [Arcola enters the ring, walks over to Nelson, and snatches the microphone out of his hand, turning his back on The Man. Chris Shannon starts for Arcola, but is waved off by Nelson.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: Try it, Hightower. I dare you... [No response. Arcola turns to Travers.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: Eric, I'm not out here to try and change whatever decision you've already made. In the end, you have to do what you think is best for you. [He turns to Nelson.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: But _you_...don't you ever get tired of being humiliated? What could you possibly have to say at this point that's worth hearing? [Francine passes another microphone to Cooper Concrete, who tosses it to Nelson.] NELSON: Only the juciest shit ever, tinkerbell! Let me present to you and everyone here...Exhibit "A"! Justin Arcola's _former_ lover... _ANGEL RAMIREZ_!!! CC: WHAT?!? [Angel Ramirez, a young, thinly-built Mexican man with a pronounced goatee, steps out from behind the entrance curtain. The crowd is buzzing. He walks to the ring with a dour expression on his face.] OA: Brian Nelson has brought Arcola's former partner -- hell, I didn't even know they weren't together anymore -- CC: Lovers' spats happen, Ambrose! I guess you wouldn't know...all your girlfriends are inflatable! But _something_ must have happened... [Angel gets into the ring, takes the microphone from Nelson, and addresses Arcola.] ANGEL: Hello Justin...long time no see. It's been -- what? Three months since you kicked me to the curb? And not one phone call, not one letter, nothing ever since! Such a shame...because there's just so much you need to be filled in on! When you first found out you were HIV-positive, you naturally assumed you got it from me, right? And that meant I had to have gotten it from someone else. And you couldn't _stand_ that thought...that I'd been with another man. It _ate_ at your insides no matter how many times I told you it wasn't true...and now matter how many times I offered to take the test myself, you'd have _none_ of it! You'd already made up your mind...I cheated on you and that was all there was to it! Well, for such a bright boy, Justin, you can really be fucking _stupid_ sometimes! CC: Oh man... OA: What's he _talking_ about? ANGEL: I _took_ the test, Justin! It came back _negative_! _I_ DON'T HAVE AIDS!!! [SHOCKED GASP] OA: Oh...oh my God... CC: I can't believe what I'm hearing... ANGEL: You stupid _shit_! You threw away _everything_ because you were too goddamn _stubborn_ to see anything but what you _wanted_ to! And I'm left here picking up the pieces, knowing I'll never have a normal life again...all because of _you_! JUSTIN ARCOLA: Angel...I...I'm... [Angel flips him off.] ANGEL: Fuck off, Justin! I don't want to hear it. Goodbye. Goodbye...forever! [Angel, tears in his eyes, exits the ring. He quickly walks up the ramp, not turning back once. Justin watches him leave, leaning on the top rope, his head beginning to sink.] OA: This is almost surreal, Cordell? CC: Angel didn't give Justin AIDS. But who did? What does this mean? NELSON: What's the matter, Justin? You look confused. Maybe I can help you out. Here's Exhibit "B"... [Nelson points to the I-Sore and a shot of the backstage area comes up. A middle-aged man in a lab coat and glasses walks into the frame.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: Dr. Foxworth? NELSON: My staff doctor...the man that gave you your drug test back in October...the man who diagnosed you with HIV... ERIC TRAVERS: Justin...this isn't the doctor _I_ see... NELSON: This isn't the doctor _anyone_ sees...except for you, Justin. He isn't even a doctor! He just _plays_ one on TV! OA: What is he talking about? [It's beginning to dawn on Arcola.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: You wouldn't... NELSON: Let me introduce you to the real Dr. Foxworth... aka Kevin Bailey of Los Angeles, California. He's an _actor_ I hired, Justin... [BOOOOOO!!!] NELSON: ...to tell you exactly what he did! This man never looked at your blood sample, and he wouldn't even know what to make of it if he did! But the _real_ staff doctor...the one that treats everybody _else_ on the roster...checked it out less than two hours ago...and _his_ diagnosis is perfectly clear... [Nelson opens the envelope and pulls out two pieces of paper. He shoves one of them into Arcola's face.] YOU ARE _NOT_ INFECTED WITH HIV!!! [_MASSIVE_ HEAT!!!] CC: JESUS CHRIST!!! OA: MY GOD, I CAN'T _BELIEVE_ THIS!!! WHAT KIND OF A SICK HUMAN BEING IS BRIAN NELSON TO HAVE _DONE_ THIS?!? [Arcola sinks to his knees and stares wide-eyed at the piece of paper in his hand.] OA: This is one of the most _despicible_ acts I've ever seen in all my years in this business! What could have possibly motivated this man to pull off this big sham...and convince another human being he has a terminal illness?!? NELSON: Now all of you...and _you_, Travers... might think that what I did was a pretty shitty thing. But let me ask you: what's it say about this little fruitcake that he got _played_ by it? What's it say for him when he'll just take the word of anyone who _appears_ to be an authority on something and not even get a fucking _second opinion_? Do you really think he has what it takes to lead this company? Do you really think he'll be able to look out for you...and your career...like _I_ have, Eric? Do you _really_ want him in charge of things around here? [Eric looks at Nelson, then at Arcola.] ERIC TRAVERS: He's right, Justin. You and I both know he's right. I'm sorry... ...my vote goes to Nelson! [BOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!] [Nelson throws his arms up in celebration.] CC: And that means the _election_ goes to Nelson! Brian Nelson is President of the company once again! HA HA! FRANCINE: Ladies and gentlemen, presenting the _NEW_ IWF/WOW PRESIDENT... ... B R I A N ... _N E L S O N_!!! [The Greater Good surround Nelson and congratulate him, high-fiving and hugging ensues.] OA: This makes me physically _sick_! I am nauseous just watching it! CC: By any means necessary, Ambrose! OA: The man bargained, manipulated, and destroyed another man's life to get to the top! But by God, you're absolutely right! He got the job done, and Justin Arcola must feel like a fire hydrant at the world's largest dog show! [Eric Travers exits the ring with a disgusted look on his face. Justin Arcola is a broken man, nearly collapsed in the ring. The Greater Good take places behind him and Nelson kneels down to look him in the eye.] NELSON: What's wrong, Justin? You should be celebrating...I just gave you your life back! JUSTIN ARCOLA: Why? I...I can't... why did you _do_ this to me?!? NELSON: Why? You really are just a stupid son of a bitch, aren't you? Why the hell do you _think_? [Nelson stands up and Chris Shannon comes closer to Arcola.] NELSON: Why don't you see if this helps explain it? [HEAT!] [Chris Shannon lunges down at Arcola and locks his arms around Arcola's arm and neck. He drags Arcola to his feet.] OA: MY GOD!!! "THE LETHAL INJECTION" CHRIS SHANNON HAS ARCOLA LOCKED IN THE KATEHAJIME!!! CC: ARCOLA'S OWN MOVE! OA: NO! NO!!! DON'T DO THIS!!! NOT THIS!!! . . . . . *** BOOM *** Crowd: UUUUUHHHHHHHWWWWWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! OA: JESUS, THE KATEHAJIME SUPLEX!!! SHANNON JUST TOOK THAT MENTALLY BROKEN MAN AND MAY HAVE BROKEN EVERY BONE IN HIS NECK! [Arcola lays face down on the mat, unable to move.] NELSON: IS IT GETTING THROUGH TO YOU YET, YOU FUCKING _MORON_?!? You were a liability to this company, Arcola! You walked around here with no soul, with no concern for your fellow man! You dished out a brand of justice on a scale of right and wrong that _you_ decided on! When people got in your way, you'd just take them out! William Devonshire...one of our hottest prospects _ever_...he got in your way...BAM! Katehajime Suplex...his neck is broken and he leaves wrestling forever! Matthew Reason...he pissed you off...BAM! Katehajime Suplex through the _ring_...he dislocates his shoulder and has to sit at home for two months! And then, the last straw...Trevor Storm! One of my main event players! He costs you the Hardcore Title, so you come down to his match...shatter a baseball bat over his head...take him to the top rope, and give him that goddamn suplex all the way down to the floor and through the _ANNOUNCE TABLE_!!! You break his neck...you almost kill him...and you treat it like it's just another day at the office! When he comes back at Summer Explosion and costs you another match, you pick _another_ fight with him! You walk into my office and _demand_ a match with him...telling me you're going to break his neck _again_ if I don't give it to you! When I tell you "no", you go and destroy A TWO HUNDRED-THOUSAND DOLLAR VIDEO SCREEN!!! You were a loose cannon, Arcola! Every time I gave you an _inch_, you'd take a fucking _mile_! You were costing this company _ten times_ the amount of money you were bringing in! You _had_ to be stopped! But what would it matter if I fired you; you weren't listening to a single word I was saying anyway! So I made a decision right there and then that I was going to do whatever it took to get you to leave on your own. I planted that actor and had him tell you that you had AIDS. That didn't make you leave. So I booked the match you were looking for, one-on-one with Trevor Storm, and made it a First Blood match. _That_, of _all_ things, should've made you pack your bags, but you were too caught up with Storm...you _had_ to have your revenge on him! I let the match happen...knowing there was no real danger...hoping it would be the last time I saw you... But you just couldn't stay away, could you? Jurkschat put out a call for someone to step up and challenge me for the Presidency, and who else is gonna heed the call but the guy who just won't leave me the fuck alone? That I should have even had to compete against you in the first place is an insult! That everyone loved you enough to stand behind you is an even bigger one! But I showed each and every person who thought you could _ever_ do a better job than me _exactly_ why I'm the right man for this job. I deal with the problem employees. And Justin, I'm going to keep on dealing with you! [Nelson motions to the Greater Good.] Open him up, boys! [BOOOOOOOO!!!!] [Infinite Justice picks up Arcola and begins to lay into him with kunckle punches to the forehead.] OA: HEY! COME ON NOW! ENOUGH IS _ENOUGH_, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE! CC: The Greater Good knows it's safe now! They can do whatever they want to Arcola! [Cooper Concrete slides to the outside of the ring and picks up the timekeeper's chair. He tosses it to Chris Shannon.] OA: INFINITE JUSTICE IS HOLDING UP ARCOLA!!! SHANNON HAS THAT CHAIR!!! ***** KEEEEEEE-RRRRRRAAAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKKK!!!!!! ***** Crowd: UUUUUHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! OA: MY _GOD_!!! THAT WAS ONE OF THE MOST DEVASTATING CHAIR SHOTS I'VE EVER SEEN!!! AND ARCOLA IS BLEEDING FROM THE FOREHEAD!!! CC: HE'S BLEEDING LIKE A STUCK PIG, AMBROSE! LOOK AT THAT! OA: Arcola does _not_ have HIV, but that doesn't excuse this at all! [Nelson yanks Arcola up by the hair.] NELSON: It'd be too easy to fire you, Justin! No, you've gotta learn the price for fucking with me! Your punishment is going to be long...it's going to be slow...and it's going to be _painful_! I'm in charge now, Arcola...and as my first act as President... ...I am placing you... ..._BACK_ ON THE ACTIVE ROSTER!!! [POP!!!!!] OA: WHAT?!? CC: Justin Arcola is going to come _back_ into the ring?!? NELSON: You will wrestle the matches I tell you to..._where_ I tell you to...and _when_ I tell you to! One slip-up from you and you'll be found in breach of contract...this company will garnish every single _cent_ you earn until your contract is up! In short, Justin...your ass...belongs to _ME_!!! [Cooper Concrete picks up Arcola and delivers the Cement Mixer on top of the chair!] OA: COME ON NOW!!! THIS IS _ENOUGH_ ALREADY! [Eric Travers stands at the top of the ramp watching Arcola get mugged. He looks to both sides of the aisle and shakes his head "no". And he's off!] OA: HERE COMES ERIC TRAVERS!! HE MAY HAVE GIVEN NELSON THE PRESIDENCY, BUT _NOT_ THE RIGHT TO DO THIS TO JUSTIN ARCOLA!! [Travers dives head first into the ring. Coop spots him in the corner of his eye and tries to head him off.] [POP!!!] OA: TRAVERS BACKDROPS COOP TO THE FLOOR! [Nelson steps in Travers' path, wanting to know just what the hell he thinks he's doing. He jerks Nelson to the floor by his tie the monstrous approval of the fans!] CC: TURNCOAT! BENEDICT GODDAMN ARNOLD! OA: TRAVERS FLOORS SHANNON WITH A ROW OF KNUCKLES!! [POP!!!] OA: HE CLOTHESLINES INFINITE JUSTICE OVER AND OUT!! [Travers turns and sees Nelson crab walking to a corner. He approaches the re-elected president of the I-Slash with betrayal in his eyes.] OA: TRAVERS IS ABOUT TO SWEAR NELSON BACK IN! [Suddenly, Nelson pulls a cell phone from the inner pocket of his overcoat. He dials frantically.] OA: What? A ... cell phone? CC: Who's he calling!? OA: The national guard if he hopes to make it out of here alive! [Nelson begs into the phone. Pure terror contorting his face. Travers reaches forward and grabs the phone. He screams into it, demanding the person on the other end identify himself. Eliciting no reaction he tosses the phone into the crowd.] [POP!!!!] OA: TRAVERS JUST CUT NELSON OFF FROM CIVILIZATION! HE IS ALONE! BRIAN NELSON IS UTTERLY AL ... one? [We cut to the I-Sore behind Travers, showing the limo we saw earlier in the broadcast, still idling near the entrance to the arena.] CC: The limousine, Ambrose! It's that limo that made Rick Baptist damn near mess his pants and like it! [The black door opens, and from the camera's close, low viewpoint, we see two freshly polished black leather boots step out. Nothing significant in that in itself... until we also notice that those same boots are each fastened with three brilliantly polished silver buckles. These are boots which have never before been seen on an I-Slash broadcast, but which are all too horribly familiar to millions of wrestling fans around the world.] OA: Cordell, I'm not quite sure what this is all about, but after what we've already witnessed tonight, I suspect it may not be entirely good news. [The boots begin their journey, striding out and away from the limo with a definite purpose, malicious and malevolent in it's intent. As the owner of the boots makes his way towards the arena, the camera which had been tracking his every footstep begins to slow intentionally, revealing a little more of what is in store. Tucked into the silver-buckled boots are well-worn black jeans which stop at a bare mid-section.] OA: Cordell... is that... [There is a momentary pause and silence, broken eventually by I-Slash color man extraordnaire, Cordell Crane. His reponse to what he has just witnessed speaks volumes.] CC: Dear God. [The camera continues to pan up, and those who know now understand that reaction. Our immediate sight, that which now fills the entire shot, is of a broad, muscular back, and the legacy of terror inscribed thereupon. The centrepiece of this bizarre ink tapestry is the tattoo of the crucified Christ which covers most of his back, and the legend "Vengeance is Mine" below. There are other, smaller works dotted here and there, intersected by lines of scar tissue, some fresh, some old. And stopping just a little past his shoulders, lank, black hair, hanging loosely and rat-tailed. The also-inked biceps contract and relax, and then he enters the arena and is gone.] CC: Dear heaven above and fire below, Ambrose, I think Brian Nelson just reached out and touched the devil HIMSELF! If that's who it appears to be, we may be witnessing the beginning of armageddon! OA: My stomach is quivering, Crane. I'm on edge! [Travers jerks Nelson to his feet by the collar. He points to Arcola's bloody and battered frame on the canvas. Nelson begs. He begs like a dog. And suddenly ... miraculously ... his prayers are heard.] "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" [In a surreal moment that will forever illuminate this night in I-I-Slash lore ... raw, bottomless, unstoppable _EVIL_ incarnate slithers through the crowd and over the barricade.] "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" OA: I ... Ah ... CC: IT'S ... IT'S ... GOD HELP US, IT'S _HIM!!_ [And unlike the rest of us, Travers never sees "him" coming. He doesn't suspect a thing other than lunacy in the Cheshire cat grin connecting Nelson's ears. The impending, demonic cloud of malevolence drifts toward the timekeeper's table and sweeps the ring bell up into it's plan.] OA: HE'S IN THE RING! MY GOD, ERIC, TURN AROUND! FORGET NELSON! _TURN AROUND!!_ MY GOD!! CC: Not even GOD can bring himself to look down on this, Ambrose! Your prayers are futile! OA: PLEASE, TRAVERS! TURN AROU-- DING! "UUUUUUUUUUWWWWAAAAHHHHHH!!!" OA: TRAVERS JUST GOT RUNG!! [He stumbles forward, pinning Nelson into the corner, then falling to his knees ... back to his shoulders, and at the jet black boots of a force that the I-Slash has never known the likes of.] CC: HE'S GOT TRAVERS AT HIS FEET!! [Greasy black chords drape his face as he bends. His cold, callous fingers plowing through Travers flawless golden locks before constricting and guiding him slowly to his knees. Travers' vision is blurry, but what he does see chills his heart. He looks dead into the eyes of ... ] CC: THE __ROOT OF ALL EVIL!__ [Travers' lips slightly part. His conquerer presses his index finger to them, however, hushing the EWA Heavyweight Champion. He turns his eyes to roof ... inhales the terror ... and drives his boney knee into Travers' pretty face.] "UUUUUUUUUUWWWWAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" CC: __ C A L E B T E M P L E ! ! ! __ OA: AND HE'S UNLEASHING _HELL_ ON ERIC TRAVERS!! [The ring begins to swarm once again with Concrete, Shannon, and Infinite Justice. Nelson plays traffic cop, directing the Greater Good back to Arcola who hasn't budged in five minutes. Temple pays no mind to the chaos surrounding him. His eyes dive straight into the garnish on Travers' waist. The EWA Heavyweight Championship.] CC: Look at his eyes! Look where they are! Pasted to the belt around Travers' waist! NOW tell me that belt means nothing, Ambrose! Listen to McMannis, Spector, and Storm when they say it's worthless! That's CALEB PHUCKING TEMPLE staring at it like it's everything in the world! [Temple digs around in his pocket and produces a utensil meek in stature, but unspeakable in harm. This crowd isn't oblivious. They know that fork in his fist isn't for cake and ice cream.] CC: HE'S GOT THE FORK! TEMPLE BROUGHT HIS APPETITE! [Shannon pulls Arcola to his knees and applies a full nelson. Revere, Washington, and Concrete alternate fists and boots to his head. Blood pours down his face. A sight that would've caused widespread panic only fifteen minutes ago.] OA: Brian Nelson convinced Arcola he was dying! He convinced an I-Slash LEGEND that he was infected with the HIV virus to CUT COSTS! Now he's having him slaughtered! He's having Justin Arcola BUTCHERED like cattle! [Temple props Travers up in the corner and steps onto the second rope, casting a chilly shadow over his face. He aims the fork to the sky, prongs down, and then ... ] TEMPLE: "SHAH!!" "UUUUUUUUUUUWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!!!" [ ... growls as he jams each one into the flesh on Travers' forehead.] OA: DEAR GOD! HE'S TEARING TRAVERS' FACE APART WITH A _FORK!!_ [The crowd collectively winces as Temple puts the fork in Travers' skull again ... again ... again ... again ... again ... again ... and again. A mangled section of flesh spills blood down the bridge of Travers' nose, off his lips. Temple hops back and cocks his head to the side, admiring his art.] OA: THIS MAN-- CC: He's no man. OA: Whatever you want to call him ... he's mentally unbalanced! He's got a malnutritioned soul! DING! CC: DDT ON THE BELL!! [Temple sits up next to Travers' face down body and studies the back of his head. His hair matted together with thick, rich blood. Across the ring, Nelson slaps Arcola across the face as he's restrained by Coop and Shannon.] OA: He's shoveling insult on the injury! Someone stop this! Please! CC: I'd like to see the guy with balls hairy enough to tell Brian Nelson, Caleb Temple, or the Greater Good what to do! [Temple peels the title from Travers' waist and raises it to his face. His eyes gloss over the gleaming relic. An heirloom Temple once captivated ... and never truly relinquished.] CC: Shit, Ambrose ... I almost forgot ... OA: What?? CC: Temple! That title! My God. Nelson said he wanted "What's his"! [Nelson smacks Shannon on the shoulder and gives an order. The Greater Good roll Arcola under the bottom rope and off the apron. Two men assign themselves to each arm as they drag his limp carcass up the aisle.] OA: Where are they taking Arcola!? We've seen ENOUGH! Arcola's HAD ENOUGH! [The Greater Good immerse themselves and Arcola backstage. Back in the ring, Nelson paces, nodding to Temple who briefly pries his eyes off the belt.] OA: This is a demonic pact! Nelson had Temple on stand-by! He was going to employ him tonight one way or another! But WHY!? What's the connection, Crane! You're the EWA historian! [Cordell fills the gaps in the story being told in the eye contact between Nelson and Temple.] CC: Caleb Temple was given his start in the wrestling business by a man with a great vision. A man who controlled a kingdom before there were "empires", Ambrose. His name was "Slick" Rick Baptist. Baptist's right hand man and protégé was a young Brian Nelson. [Temple approaches Nelson, still cradling the title in his hands. He nods appreciatively.] CC: They accepted Caleb Temple. They gave him carte blanch to do whatever it took to leave his mark on the wrestling world. He-- OA: Wait a minute, Cordell! TEMPLE'S TAKING THE BELT TO THE TOP ROPE! [He spreads his arms out, much like a wooden cross on the hill of Golgotha. He cups the title by the top and bottom of the faceplate and dives off.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> ((( BOOM ))) "UUUUUUWWWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: BELT TO THE SKULL!! HE _CRUSHED_ TRAVERS FACE WITH AN ARMOURED ELBOW SMASH!!!! [Nelson scrubs his palms together fiendishly. Slinging the stolen EWA title belt over his left shoulder, Caleb Temple rises and calls for microphone and then drops to one knee, his dark, lank hair hanging loosely over his pale face as he hisses at the fallen Travers.] TEMPLE: Eric... Champ. [He chuckles softly.] TEMPLE: Forgive me for being so rude. I should at least introduce myself. Name's Caleb Temple. And since we've never had the pleasure, I don't expect that to mean too much to you. For now, at least. But when I'm through with you, Eric, you will know my name and you will remember it. And you will wish with every fibre of your being that you had never heard it. [He looks at the gold plate of the EWA Heavyweight Championship.] TEMPLE: I am a man of honour, Eric. A man of principle. And although certain people have, in the past, called me names like "The God of Ultra-Violence"... like "The King of the Death Match"... like "Evil Incarnate" or even "The Devil Himself"... I am no thief. [He catches a glimpse of his own reflection in that gold, and then lays the belt upon the bloodied champion.] TEMPLE: So you may keep this... for the time being. But understand that you now drift on numbered days. For it belongs to me. Stolen five years ago, Eric, and not a day has passed when I have not thought of it and mourned. Five years, Eric. Five long years I have waited. And now... finally... my time has full come. The EWA World Heavyweight Champion has come home, Eric. Home like a father returned from a war to find a child sitting in his chair. And you, child... must now prepare yourself to feel the iron fist of that father's rage. [He hisses his parting words, a demonic smile upon his face.] TEMPLE: Trust me. [And with that, Caleb Temple leaves behind a bloodied mess that once was I-Slash legend "Epic" Eric Travers.] ========================= WHAT ELSE COULD YOU ASK FOR? PART 3? YOU GOT IT! ========================= OA: Ladies and gentlemen, I can't _believe_ what's gone down already tonight! CC: This is easily one of the most surreal pay-per-views in our company's history. OA: Just a few moments ago, Eric Travers cast the deciding vote in the election, giving Nelson the presidency. Justin Arcola was attacked by the Greater Good, which didn't sit well with Travers, who came back to aid Arcola. Nelson broke out his cell and dialed. Travers was then attacked from behind by none other than one of Brian Nelson's star blue chippers, Caleb Temple. And did Temple ever make an impact at the expense of the EWA Champion! CC: You're not kidding! Travers couldn't even _stand_ by the time Temple was done, and as far as it seems, Temple has had Travers marked for a while! He wants that EWA title around Travers' waist and he wants it _bad_! OA: Also earlier in the night, Hades was attacked by a masked man, only to be saved by Ensassarol. Maybe Mack is trying to get Hades to show favoritism, but we still don't know who me masked man was. CC: There's more twists and turns in this match than a pair of mating snakes! OA: Oh jeez, Cordell... CC: What? OA: Never mind...let's just go down to the ring. ]==========[EWA HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP]==========[ ,-_/ ,-,-. ,--. ,,--. , .-,--. ' | ` | | | `-' |`, | ) ' | \ .^ | | |-. | . | | / , | / `--' ,' `-' `--' `---' `--' `-^--' ,-,---. , ,,--. ,,--. .-,--. |___/ ) |`, | |`, | ' | \ , | \ / | | | | , | / `-^---' `--' `---' `---' `-^--' GUEST REFEREE: HADES "EPIC" ERIC TRAVERS vs. MACK ENSASSAROL VS. STEVE SPECTOR ]===[45 MIN. IRON MAN MATCH]===[ Writer: Matt Weeks FRANCINE: The following contest is a 45 minute IRON MAN match for the EWA HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!!! [POP!!!!] FRANCINE: Introducing first ... [Lights go out.] [On the I Sore color bars appear.] [A loud high-pitched buzz screeches through the speakers.] #EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEŠŠŠŠ..# BRITISH WOMEN"S VOICE: SHOCK TV IS NOW ON THE AIR. [Fans boo loudly as The Bloodhound Gang's No Rest For the Wicked starts to play.] #I GET BOMBED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!# [Mack comes running out from behind the I Sore. He is dressed in a "10-10-220" T-shirt. His tights are silver with SHOCKER in red printed across the butt. He has matching silver knee pads and boots. Behind him struts Vile Vince Viper and Sabbath. On the I Sore, images of Mack battling Maverick, Eric Travers , Super Scott, Nate Mcmannius, and Mr. Robinson are shown at high speed. ] #much like Pearl Harbor# FRANCINE: Making his way to the ring,. Weighing in at 258lbs, and hailing from the city of champions, Pittsburgh, PAŠŠŠ.this isŠŠŠ. ... "S H O C K E R" ... M A C K E N S A S S E R O L ! ! ! #The price is white right and I'm Bob Barker# #This is your brain on drugs# [He stops and gives the fans an angry sneer. They shower him with an "You suck" chant.] #This is your brain on Jackie Onassis# #All you crotch goblins can kiss our asses# #Yes siree Bob like corn on the cob# #I'm all buttered up ready to hob nob# #Daddy is a kraut you're Nazi-occupied France# [Mack approaches the apron and loudly exchanges words with a fan.] #I'm gonna rise to the occasion inside my pants# #So yo ass yea you I want to Fraggle Rock your girlie# #Coming around the party coming around like Mr. Furley# #I'm Mr. Furley you're Jack Tripper# #You're dumb ass Gilligan and I'm the Skipper# #Tiptoe through my tulips and come and frolic# #Cause my name is Betty Ford and she's an alcoholic# #So here I am Rock Me Like A Hurricane# #Not a Scorpion but my sting will bring your dame a lot of pain# #And Daddy's gonna tell ya I'm as cool as Jack The Ripper# #Somewhat of a cut-throat but still a big tipper# #As I tickle you pink I bet my fingers start to stink# #I'm what's missing from your life and you're the missing link# #It doesn't matter how you win or lose it's how you lick it....# [Mack rolls into the ring and climbs up the turnbuckle. He lifts his arms and leans his head back.] #NO REST FOR THE WICKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!# #GET DOWN! DRINK IT UP! BRING IT ON! TAKE IT OFF!# #GET DOWN! DRINK IT UP! BRING IT ON! TAKE IT OFF!# #GET DOWN! DRINK IT UP! BRING IT ON! TAKE IT OFF!# #GET DOWN! DRINK IT UP! BRING IT ON! TAKE IT OFF!# #GET DOWN! DRINK IT UP! BRING IT ON! TAKE IT OFF!# #GET DOWN! DRINK IT UP! BRING IT ON! TAKE IT OFF!# FRANCINE: And his opponent ... [The opening to "101 North" by Tomahawk begins to play over the PA system as the crowd starts to murmur. After a few seconds, the voice of Mike Patton comes over the PA...] # Hitch a ride.... # Hitch a ride..... [After a few seconds, a loud whoosh is heard, and the crowd explodes in a HUGE face pop as Steve Spector walks onto the aisle. He looks down at the floor, and appears to be shaking.] # Egos squirm and they tie up the bonds # I'll shut you down like a bank on a Sunday # The engine has no stories to tell me # 'Cause there's no one to tell them to # The last drugstore has sold the very last pill FRANCINE: Introducing, from Carteret, New Jersey ... weighing 226 pounds, here is ... ... S T E V E S P E C T O R ! ! ! [Spector begins his walk down the aisleway as the huge pop continues. He looks towards the ring with an icy stare, not taking his eyes off the ring for a second.] # Out on the road and I am high enough, thumb's up! # You're pullin' over, gonna pick me up.. # [Crowd chants along.] SHUT UP! # The rusty wiper blades move along, in song # Having a lonely body in your car.. # [Crowd chants along.] SHUT UP! # My piece is in your ear, moving fast, thinkin' clear # I'll squeeze if you don't steer and follow the line.. # [Crowd chants along.] SHUT UP! [Spector hops onto the apron, and gives a quick glance over the crowd before staring back into the ring.] # You are the bullet, I am the gun, I won # Screw on the silencer and have some fun! [Spector slingshots into the ring over the top rope.] # Grey highway, deserting me.. # Hitchhiking, a pair of high-beams coming my way.. [The song starts to die down as Spector makes his way to the corner. He stretches for a few seconds, then bends over, putting his hands on his hips, ready for the match to start.] OA: And it looks like Travers just isn't going to make it out here... And that's a damn shame! Thanks to Temple, the Greater Good, and Brian Nelson himself, Travers won't even be able to defend his title! Dark days are ahead with Nelson at the helm of this company! CC: Owen, if you had one ounce of sense, you'd keep your words nice and sweet before I end up doing a solo act next week on Graphic Nature! DING! DING! OA: And there's the bell! This match will go 45 minutes; you'll see a scoreboard and time clock in the upper-left portion of your screen... [Here it is now...] [TIME REMAINING - 44:55 SCORE - Travers 0, Ensassarol 0, Spector 0] OA: And the rules are simple. The man with the most falls at the end of the 45 minutes wins. You score falls by pinfall or submission. CC: And due to the fact that this match _was_ a Triple Threat, the rule was added that if you're disqualified or counted out, you get a fall taken away from you! I'm pretty sure that rule still applies... [Ensassarol and Spector come face-to-face in the center of the ring. Flashbulbs light up across the arena.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> CC: Check out _this_ staredown! OA: This isn't a traditional 60-minute Iron Man match, but the approach has to be the same! These two athletes are going to have to think on their feet, conserve their energy, and use finesse and technique to try and make it to the end! CC: Athletic conditioning is key! We know Steve Spector is a cardiac _machine_! Mack Ensassarol carrying about 40 more pounds of body mass...I don't know if that'll work against him or not. His best will be to rack up a lot of falls early on. OA: AND HERE WE GO! _STIFF_ COLLAR-AND-ELBOW TIE UP! CC: See? Right away both of these guys are going full-tilt, trying to get the first advantage...you _cannot_ do that in this match! OA: Ensassarol and Spector jockeying for position...Spector trying to get leverage from underneath...Ensassarol using his size and strength...trying to force Spector to his knees...Spector with a go-behind...into a waistlock! The Shocker sits out...SIDE HEADLOCK TAKEDOWN! Floats it into a hammerlock...Spector sits out...counters with the front chancre...into the half-nelson...head scissors counter by Ensassarol! Spector kicks himoff! Both men to their feet...LEG SWEEP BY THE SHOCKER! QUICK PIN! Spector kicks out at 1! Spector up...SWEEPS ENSASSAROL! _SPECTOR_ WITH A QUICK PIN! _ENSASSAROL_ KICKS OUT! SPECTOR WITH A DOUBLE LEG TRIP! ROLLOVER PIN! 1 . . . . . . . 2 . . . . ENSASSAROL BRIDGES UP! CC: What _finesse_! OA: Enssarol with the rotation...INTO A BACKSLIDE PIN! 1 . . . . . . . 2 . . . . SPECTOR KICKS OUT! [The crowd pops for the opening exchange!] CC: We expected this to be a technical masterpiece...these two world-class athletes won't disappoint! OA: ANOTHER TIE-UP! Spector with a deep arm drag takedown! Slaps on the armbar! CC: Nice basic controlling maneuver...you expend less energy applying it than your opponent does fighting it! OA: Ensassarol trying to assert some leverage from the mat...you're not going to get much in a sitting position...the Shocker rolls through the pressure and get to his knees...Spector switches to a side headlock...Ensassarol shoves him off into the ropes...SHOULDERBLOCK KNOCKS SPECTOR DOWN! CC: That's where the size advantage is key! OA: Ensassarol into the ropes...SPECTOR WITH A LEAPFROG! Rolls to his back...going for a monkey flip! Ensassarol pivots a captures his legs! WHEELBARROW SUPLEX? NO! Spector got his legs free... *** BOOM *** Crowd: UUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!! OA: SPECTOR WITH A BULLDOG HEADLOCK OFF OF ENSASSAROL'S _SHOULDERS_! A QUICK COVER! 1 . . . . . . . 2 . . . . THE SHOCKER KICKS OUT! CC: Both guys are pulling out all the stops to get the first pin...their pride might work against them if they waste too much energy doing it! OA: Spector grabs the arm of Ensassarol...KUJIKATAME! CC: Gesundheit! OA: No...that's the judo armlock that Spector's applied! He's wrenching that elbow in the wrong direction! Trying to hyperextend it! [TIME REMAINING - 40:00 SCORE - Travers 0, Ensassarol 0, Spector 0] OA: We're five minutes into this already-incredible match...no falls scored yet! CC: And at the rate these guys are going, it's gonna come down to whoever makes the first mistake! OA: ENSASSAROL WRAPS HIS LEGS AROUND THE BOTTOM ROPE! The hold must be broken! Spector brings Ensassarol to his feet...Irish whip...Ensassarol with a duck-under! Pivots! SHORT-ARM CLOTHESLINE BY ENSASSAROL!!! Ensassarol off the ropes...DROPS A _HUGE_ LEG! THE COVER! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . SPECTOR KICKS OUT! CC: Ensassarol's going to have to find some way to pull out a quick fall and then go on the defensive and wear out his opponent! OA: Ensassarol dragging up Spector by the waist...GERMAN SUPLEX!!! The Shocker holds onto the waistlock...rolling through it...bringing Spector up again...A SECOND GERMAN SUPLEX!!! _AGAIN_ HE HOLDS ON...ROLLING THROUGH TO HIS FEET AGAIN...A _THIRD_...NO!!! SPECTOR COUNTERS WITH THE VICTORY ROLL!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . ENSASSAROL KICKS OUT AGAIN! CC: These two are _not_ pacing themselves...I cannot reiterate this enough...you boys have to be in there for _45 minutes_! Save some energy! OA: SPECTOR CATCHES THE SHOCKER WITH A QUICK RIGHT HAND! ANOTHER! Backing Ensassarol into the corner...sets him up! *** SLAP *** Crowd: WHOOO! OA: KNIFE EDGE CHOP! *** SLAP *** Crowd: WHOOO! OA: MAKE IT TWO! *** SLAP *** Crowd: WHOOO! OA: AND A _THIRD_ BRUTAL CHOP! [TIME REMAINING - 37:23 SCORE - Travers 0, Ensassarol 0, Spector 0] OA: Spector now...with a front facelock...cinching up the Shocker...Spector lifts him up and crotches him on the top turnbuckle! CC: No comfortable place to sit up there! OA: Spector pressing his advantage...climbing up the turnbuckles... CC: I don't like this! This'll hurt 'em both! OA: SPECTOR GOING FOR A SUPERPL- NO! IT'S BLOCKED! ENSASSAROL WITH A RIGHT HAND! A SECOND ONE! He hooks Spector around the waist...HOISTS HIM UP OVER HIS HEAD!!! CC: WHAT IN THE HELL? OA: SPECTOR IS 10 FEET IN THE AIR WITH NOWHERE TO GO BUT DOWN!!! . . . . . . . *** KKKKAAAAA-BBBBBOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!! *** Crowd: UUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!! OA: OH MY GOD!!! A MACK 10 FROM THE _TOP ROPE_!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?!? Crowd: HOLY-SHIT!!! HOLY-SHIT!!! HOLY-SHIT!!! OA: HERE'S THE COVER!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.999 . . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!! [POP!!!] CC: NO NO!!! OA: HADES IS SIGNALING TWO!!! SOMEHOW, SPECTOR GOT A SHOULDER UP!!! CC: THAT IS _UNBELIEVABLE_!!! [Mack Ensassarol looks up in disbelief.] OA: Look at the look on the Shocker's face! He can't believe he didn't get a three-count. CC: But now's not the time to get frustrated...you've gotta pull out something big, Mack! OA: Ensassarol lifts up Spector...front facelock...hoists up into a stalling suplex... *** BOOM *** [SINISTER STOLEN MOVE HEAT!] OA: INTO THE ORANGE CRUSH POWERBOMB!!! CC: That's the Cherry Blossom Bomber! That's right out of _Spector's_ playbook, and Ensassarol _knows_ it! OA: INSULT ADDED TO INJURY...HERE'S THE PIN!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!! *** BBBBBBBUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ *** FRANCINE: THE WINNER OF THE FALL... "SHOCKER" MACK ENSASSAROL!!! [TIME REMAINING - 36:27 SCORE - Travers 0, Ensassarol 1, Spector 0] OA: And at just under nine minutes into this match, Ensassarol makes the first strike, with one of Spector's own trademarks, the Cherry Blossom Bomber! And Spector is in a _bad_ way! CC: Now...while he's hurt...get another fall, Mack! And then play defense for 30 minutes! OA: The Shocker immediately back on Spector...no rest period between falls here! AND THAT'S A BLATANT CHOKE! HADES (counting): 1 . . 2 . . 3 . . 4 . . 5 . . [POP!] OA: AND HADES IS FORCIBLY PULLING ENSASSAROL OFF! CC: Whould've thunk it? OA: Ensassarol is looking for a break from Hades, but Hades isn't having any of it! CC: No bias whatsoever shown to his stablemate! OA: Ensassarol picking up Spector again...SNAP MARE! The Shocker reels back... *** CRACK *** Crowd: UUUUUHHHHWWWWWWAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! OA: WHAT A _LETHAL_ KICK STRAIGHT INTO THE SPINE OF SPECTOR!!! CC: What a shot! OA: Ensassarol reaches down...grabs the arms...AND NOW IT'S THE SURFBOARD STRETCH! CC: Smart move! This submission move not only drains you physically, but it just saps your will to keep on going! OA: Steve Spector is down one fall...he's got a long haul to overcome here...BUT HE IS NOT GOING TO GIVE IT UP! Crowd: SPEC-TOR!!! SPEC-TOR!!! SPEC-TOR!!! OA: SPECTOR IS FIGHTING FOR LEVERAGE! HE'S FIGHTING TO GET TO HIS FEET... Crowd: UUUUUHHHHHHWWWAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!! OA: AND ENSASSAROL _DRILLS_ HIM WITH A HOOKING CLOTHESLINE TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD!!! CC: That was great, Mack! Stop his momentum before it starts! OA: There's no cheering here, Cordell! CC: Oh realx...I'm just offering my opinion as an experienced in-ring competitor! And Mack is so much cooler anyway... [TIME REMAINING - 31:45 SCORE - Travers 0, Ensassarol 1, Spector 0] OA: Ensassarol setting up another suplex...NO! Spector floats over...LEAPING ARMBAR TAKEDOWN! ["TURNABOUT IS FAIR PLAY" POP!] CC: WHAT?!? OA: SPECTOR APPLIES THE KEYSTONE CLUTCH!!! THAT'S _ENSASSAROL'S_ SUBMISSION HOLD!!! CC: He's got it locked in! Ensassarol can't get to the ropes! OA: Oh, how humiliating would this be for Ensassarol? To have to tap out to his own hold! Crowd: SPEC-TOR!!! SPEC-TOR!!! SPEC-TOR!!! CC: This crowd wants to see it! They want to see the Shocker tap! OA: ENSASSAROL HAS NOWHERE TO GO! HE'S TRAPPED IN HIS OWN HOLD! . . . . . [Ensassarol's free hand comes up.] . . . OA: WILL HE TAP?!? . . . [YES!!!] OA: YES!!! THERE IT IS!!! *** BBBBBBBUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ *** FRANCINE: THE WINNER OF THE FALL... ...STEVE..._SPECTOR_!!! [TIME REMAINING - 30:02 SCORE - Travers 0, Ensassarol 1, Spector 1] OA: And the 26 year-old native of Carteret, NJ has just evened things up at one fall apiece! CC: How about the performance of Hades so far? He's not showing any bias whatsoever! OA: I have to commend the former I/W Champion...he's called it right down the middle so far! Spector not wasting any motion...picks up Ensassarol...Irish whip...NO, REVERSED! Spector slides under the ropes to the apron...to his feet...ENSASSAROL CHARGES! SPECTOR WITH A SHOULDERBLOCK THROUGH THE ROPES STUNS THE SHOCKER...SPECTOR SLINGSHOTS!!! *** BOOM *** [KA-POP!!!] OA: GODDESS CUTTER!!! GODDESS CUTTER!!! THE COVER! HADES IS OUT OF POSITION! [Hades _leaps_ over Spector, twists, and lands on his stomach with a big... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . OA: HEY! WHAT THE HELL? [BOOOOO!!!!] [Hades is about to come down for the three when his back appears to lock up on him. He stops the count and clutches at it, writhing in pain.] OA: I DON'T BUY THIS FOR A SECOND!!! HADES STOPPED THAT COUNT ON _PURPOSE_! AND _JUST_ WHEN WE THOUGHT HE COULD BE IMPARTIAL! CC: HEY! It's Spector's own fault for giving him that back injury on Graphic Nature in the _first_ place! [The crowd gets on Hades' case. Hades stands up, really selling the back injury. Spector looks at him with skepticism.] OA: Spector and Hades exchanging some pleasantries here...if Hades hasn't _already_ cast his lot with Ensassarol, Spector wouldn't be wise to alienate him! [Spector jabs a finger in Hades' chest. Hades slaps it away. Spector looks pissed.] [POP!] OA: SPECTOR JUST SHOVED HADES! CC: That's not smart! OA: AND HADES SHOVES HIM BACK! SPECTOR TAKES A SWING...NO! IT'S BLOCKED! HADES WITH A BOOT TO THE GUT... *** BOOM *** [_MASSIVE_ HEAT!!!] OA: WIDOWMAKER!!! DAMMIT, HADES _IS_ OUT TO SCREW SPECTOR!!! CC: Hades didn't do a damn thing until Spector took a shot at him...you can't blame the man for defending himself! OA: AND NOW ENSASSAROL IS GETTING UP...HE'S CRAWLING OVER FOR THE PIN! NO!!! COME ON!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!! OA: DAMMIT!!! *** BBBBBBBUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ *** FRANCINE: THE WINNER OF THE FALL... "SHOCKER" MACK ENSASSAROL!!! [TIME REMAINING - 27:42 SCORE - Travers 0, Ensassarol 2, Spector 1] OA: I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! CC: It's Spector's own fault for striking an official! [The crowd gives Hades some big-time heat, but Hades simply shrugs his shoulders.] CC: That's right; it's not _your_ fault, Hades! It's _Spector's_! OA: Well, any way you want to slice it, the Shocker has taken the lead once again, and Hades' back looked just _fine_ on _that_ pin! CC: Ambrose, I've been in the ring, all right? You _haven't_! You don't know what it's like to bounce yourself off that canvas over and over...old injuries can come back to haunt you when you least expect it! OA: Ensassarol -- just like before -- going right back to work! Hooks Spector by the legs... [Crowd buzzing at the submission hold to come...] OA: IT'S THE SHARPSHOOTER!!! CC: Steve Spector's back is also injured, just like Hades'! This move will put an _unbelievable_ amount of stress on it..._especially_ with Ensassarol's weight advantage! OA: But the Shocker isn't sitting back! He doesn't have the hold cinched in! AND SPECTOR ROLLS UNDERNEATH ENSASSAROL! HOOKS THE LEGS...SPECTOR TO HIS FEET... [POP!] OA: _CATAPULTS_ ENSASSAROL INTO THE TURNBUCKLE! _SCHOOL BOY ROLLUP_!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . DAMN, THAT WAS CLOSE! CC: It's the little mistakes that'll cost you! OA: Spector back up...picking up Ensassarol...a scoop and a SLAM! Spector steps out to the apron...grabs the top rope... Crowd: UUUUUHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! OA: THE HILO!!! SLINGSHOT SENTON SPLASH!!! THE COVER! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . AND ENSASSAROL GETS A SHOULDER UP _AGAIN_! CC: Spector can't relent here! He's already down one fall...the mountain is his to climb! OA: Spector is on fire! Irish whip into the ropes...REVERSE ELBOW! Ensassarol still on his feet...he catches Spector's kick! *** CRACK *** OA: MY GOD, WHAT A SNAP WHIRLING WHEEL KICK! SPECTOR CAUGHT HIM RIGHT IN THE FACE! CC: Ensassarol's not doing the deep-freeze like I told him to! See, if everyone listened to me, their careers would _all_ be on the right track! OA: Spector pressing the advantage...hooks the arms of the Shocker...he lifts Ensassarol up and over his back! WHAT STRENGTH! CC: What in the world are we going to see here? . . . . . *** CRUNCH! *** Crowd: UUUUUUHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! OA: MY GOD, SPECTOR HITS A VERSION OF THE SPINAL SHOCK!!! ENSASSAROL'S VERTEBRAE HAVE BEEN _COMPRESSED_!!! THE COVER! COME ON, HADES -- GET IN THERE! [Hades takes his time getting into place...] 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [Hades makes a big production out of raising his hand the third time.] OA: COUNT THE THREE, DAMMIT!!! . . . . . . . [Hades gets a look on his face that says, "Eh...fuck it."] . . 3!!! *** BBBBBBBUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ *** FRANCINE: THE WINNER OF THE FALL... ...STEVE..._SPECTOR_!!! [TIME REMAINING - 20:52 SCORE - Travers 0, Ensassarol 2, Spector 2] CC: Hades counted the fall! I'm getting the sense he just doesn't give a damn who wins this match! OA: Hades is holding the fate of the EWA World Title in his hands, and he's treating it like a joke! [LIGHTS OUT!] CC: HEY! OA: We've lost power here! CC: No we haven't...look at the clock: it's still running... [TIME REMAINING - 20:03 SCORE - Travers 0, Ensassarol 2, Spector 2] OA: The lights have gone down...I can't... [Owen is silenced as the strains of Metallica's "Sad But True" cut through the arena!] [THE BIGGEST POP OF THE NIGHT!!!] OA: OH MY GOD! DON'T TELL ME...DON'T TELL ME HE'S HERE! [A lone spotlight comes up on the ramp. A hunched-over and bloody Eric Travers comes into the view and the crowd ERUPTS with applause!] OA: IT'S ERIC TRAVERS!!! THE EWA CHAMPION IS BACK IN THE ARENA! CC: What's he trying to prove? He can barely stand! Does he think he's gonna be able to fight? [Eric Travers holds the EWA Championship Belt in tow, and thrusts it up into the light. The gleam of reflecting gold shines high into the darkness. Travers lays down the belt in a straight line across the aisle.] OA: Eric Travers wants it known! These men aren't going to win the EWA Title if _he_ has anything to say about it! [Travers limps his way to the ring, one arm draped across his midsection.] CC: Well, this is just _stupid_! He's got a bad leg, his insides are all busted up! Your title's forfeit, Eric...go back up that aisle before you do permanent damage to yourself! OA: He's not gonna tuck tail! Look up the word "champion" in a dictionary and you'll see a picture of Eric Travers! That man will fight until every bone in his body is broken! [Travers slides in under the bottom rope, where Spector is waiting for him...] OA: SPECTOR CHARGES! TRAVERS DUCKS A CLOTHESLINE... *** BOOM *** [POP!] OA: AND HITS A GERMAN SUPLEX!!! HERE COMES ENSASSAROL! *** BOOM *** [BIGGER POP!] OA: AND HE GETS A CRADLE SUPLEX FOR HIS TROUBLES!!! TRAVERS PICKS UP SPECTOR... *** THUD *** [AN EVEN _BIGGER_ POP!] OA: AND HE JUST DELIVERED A T-BONE SUPLEX RIGHT ON TOP OF ENSASSAROL!!! Crowd: TRA-VERS!!! TRA-VERS!!! TRA-VERS!!! CC: Travers had better pin one of these guys quickly! When they get over the initial shock of his return, they're both gonna be pissed! OA: Travers with Spector...scoops him up...PENDULUM BACKBREAKER!!! THE COVER! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . ENSASSAROL BREAKS IT UP AT THE LAST SECOND! CC: And that may stop Travers' momentum right in its tracks! OA: Ensassarol picking up Travers...front facelock! TRAVERS SLIPS OUT OF IT! Grabs the Shocker...Irish whip...Ensassarol ducks the clothesline...THE BOOT! *** BOOM *** OA: EVENFLOW DDT!!! CC: Travers might be knocked out! [TIME REMAINING - 16:23 SCORE - Travers 0, Ensassarol 2, Spector 2] OA: Ensassarol has taken back control...he wraps up that leg of Spector... Crowd: WHOOO! OA: AND APPLIES THE FIGURE-FOUR LEGLOCK!!! THIS COULD BE ALL RIGHT HERE! CC: Travers needs to get up! If the Shocker goes up on him by three, then he _deifnitely_ has no chance! OA: SPECTOR IS FIGHTING THE HOLD...BUT HIS SHOULDERS ARE DOWN! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . NO! SPECTOR SITS BACK UP! AND HERE COMES TRAVERS! [POP!] CC: WHAT IS THIS?!? OA: TRAVERS...HE'S LOCKED ENSASSAROL IN A CROSSFACE CHICKEN-WING! WHILE ENSASSAROL STILL HAS THE FIGURE-FOUR APPLIED!!! I'VE NEVER SEEN THIS BEFORE! CC: Hades is watching both Ensassarol and Spector...the first man to tap out will lose the fall! And every time Travers wrenches on Mack, he instinctively wrenches on Spector! [The intensity of the crowd rises to a fever pitch.] . . . . . OA: THE SHOCKER TAPS!!! ENSASSAROL TAPS!!! [AWSOMA-POWA!] *** BBBBBBBUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ *** FRANCINE: THE WINNER OF THE FALL... ..."EPIC"...ERIC..._TRAVERS_!!! [TIME REMAINING - 15:30 SCORE - Travers 1, Ensassarol 2, Spector 2] OA: TRAVERS PULLS TO WITHIN ONE!!! WE'VE GOT JUST OVER 15 MINUTES TO GO! CC: Can Travers pull out two more and prevent anyone else from getting any falls? OA: Doesn't seem likely in his current state, no. CC: That's right! Travers is in some _severe_ trouble! [The crowd rallies as the three men nurse their wounds.] OA: Spector trying to get to his feet...Travers picks up Ensassarol...HE'S SETTING UP A PILEDRIVER!!! Crowd: UUUUUHHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! OA: AND SPECTOR NEARLY TAKES HIS _HEAD_ OFF WITH A FLYING CALF KICK!!! CC: WOW! WHAT A SHOT! OA: And now it looks like Ensassarol and Spector are going to double-team him! This could be the end for the Epic One! [Ensassarol holds Travers up for Spector to punch. Spector cranks back...and Travers goes limp and falls to the mat. Spector shows a brief moment of admiration for the three-time World Champion.] CC: This is really going to be all she wrote. OA: Ensassarol looks upset with Spector...he wanted him to deck Travers! [POP!] CC: What the -- Come on! OA: SPECTOR JUST SUCKER PUNCHED THE SHOCKER INSTEAD! AND ENSASSAROL SPEARS HIM DOWN!!! WE'VE GOT A SERIES OF FISTICUFFS BREAKING OUT! Ensassarol takes the advantage...yanks Spector off the mat...scoops him up...OVER-THE-SHOULDER POWERSLAM!!! Ensassarol going to the outside...HEADING UP TO THE TOP ROPE!!! CC: Taking his sweet time getting up there though! OA: Spector's already on his feet...HE STUMBLES INTO THE ROPES! Crowd: OOOOHHHHH!!!!! OA: AND ENSASSAROL GETS CROTCHED _AGAIN_! Spector slowly...surely...climbing up to the top turnbuckle...BOTH ATHLETES ARE IN NO-MAN'S LAND! CC: LOOK OOOOOOUUUUUUTTTTTTT!!!!! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> *** BOOM *** Crowd: UUUUUUHHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!! OA: MY _GOD_!!! A TOP-ROPE HURRICANRANA!!! THE SHOCKER GOT _SPIKED_!!! HERE'S THE COVER!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.999 . . . . . . . . [POP!!!] OA: TRAVERS BROKE IT UP!!! THAT WAS A SURE THREE-COUNT FOR SPECTOR! CC: And you can bet Spector's going to exact some revenge! [TIME REMAINING - 9:41 SCORE - Travers 1, Ensassarol 2, Spector 2] OA: Travers can barely stand! Spector easily catches him off-guard with a clubbing forearm! Make it two! SPECTOR WITH A FRONT FACELOCK! HE'S SIGNALING FOR IT! WILL WE SEE THE CHERRY BLOSSOM BOMBER? CC: We already saw it...from the Shocker! OA: SPECTOR LIFTS...NO! HE STOPPED MID-MOVE! JUST LIKE ON GRAPHIC NATURE! CC: I had heard he wasn't going to use it anymore at _all_! Something about that bad back of his! OA: SPECTOR WITH A KNEELIFT...DOUBLES TRAVERS OVER...SPECTOR OUT TO THE APRON...SPRINGBOARD... . . . . . *** BOOM *** [MARQUEE MOVE POP!!!] OA: GODDESS CUTTER!!! GODDESS CUTTER!!! TRAVERS IS OUT!!! CC: But Spector is worn out! He can't capitalize! OA: Spector crawling...inching his way over...slowly into the cover! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.999 . . . . . . . . OA: NO!!! CC: WHAT?!? OA: FOLKS, I CAN'T BELIEVE THE GUTS...THE TENACITY OF ERIC TRAVERS TO HAVE KICKED OUT OF THAT! CC: I CAN'T BELIEVE IT HAPPENED AT _ALL_! OA: SPECTOR IS FRUSTRATED! HE CAN'T BELIEVE HE DIDN'T PUT AWAY TRAVERS WITH THE GODDESS CUTTER... [Spector painfully steps out to the apron again.] CC: HE'S GONNA HIT IT AGAIN! OA: SPECTOR GOING FOR THE GODDESS CUTTER ONCE AGAIN...SPRINGBOARD...NO!!! TRAVERS CAUGHT HIM WITH A BOOT MID-FLIGHT...TRAVERS WITH A FRONT FACELOCK... . . . . . [Suplex] . . . . . [Slingshot] . . . . . [STUNNER!!!] [POP!!!] OA: THE EPIC ENDING!!! THE EPIC ENDING!!! THE COVER!!! THE COUNT!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!! *** BBBBBBBUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ *** FRANCINE: THE WINNER OF THE FALL... ..."EPIC"...ERIC..._TRAVERS_!!! [TIME REMAINING - 5:07 SCORE - Travers 2, Ensassarol 2, Spector 2] OA: HE DID IT!!! ERIC TRAVERS HAS TIED THIS MATCH UP WITH 5 MINUTES TO GO!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!? CC: No I can't! But I tell you what I _do_ believe: the next fall will win this match! OA: All three men are _spent_! They have endured so much punishment! CC: Someone's gonna have to reach down deep and pull a rabbit out of their ass! There's only 5 minutes to go! OA: It's Ensassarol who's the first to his feet...Travers soon after... *** CRACK *** Crowd: UUUUUHHHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! OA: THE SHOCKER LAYS A _BRUTAL_ KICK INTO THOSE INJURED RIBS!!! CC: Travers is in a really bad way! I can appreciate him playing hurt, but he's really risking his career by continuing! [Travers rolls around in pain.] OA: ENSASSAROL WITH A KNEE DROP!!! ANOTHER! HE'S AIMING RIGHT FOR THOSE RIBS! CC: They may as well have a big bullseye on them where the Shocker's concerned! OA: WAIT A MINUTE! HERE COMES STEVE SPECTOR!!! *** BOOM *** OA: FULL NELSON BOMB ON ENSASSAROL!!! CC: YOU KNOW WHAT'S COMING NEXT... [POP!] OA: THERE IT IS!!! THE POINT OF NO RETURN!!! THE POINT OF NO RETURN!!! ENSASSAROL... . . . [BIG POP!] HE TAPS!!! HE TAPS!!! *** BBBBBBBUUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ *** FRANCINE: THE WINNER OF THE FALL... ...STEVE..._SPECTOR_!!! [TIME REMAINING - 1:58 SCORE - Travers 2, Ensassarol 2, Spector 3] OA: THAT COULD BE THE FINAL NAIL IN THE COFFIN, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! ALL SPECTOR HAS TO DO IS HOLD ON FOR TWO MINUTES! CC: We are looking at the next EWA Champion! These three men are battered, bloody, and bruised beyond belief! I don't see any of them mustering _any_ offense in the next two minutes! OA: It's time for the supreme gut-check! Spector tosses Mack Ensassarol out of the ring. And Hades...he's not counting Ensassarol out! HE'S FOLLOWING HIM OUTSIDE THE RING! CC: He probably just wants to see if the Shocker's too hurt to continue! OA: THE HELL HE IS! LOOK AT THIS! [BOOOOOOO!!!] CC: What? Nothing wrong with a little friendly help. OA: HADES JUST TOSSED THE SHOCKER BACK INTO THE RING! SPECTOR DOESN'T SEE HIM! ENSASSAROL FROM BEHIND! *** BOOM *** OA: DIVING REVERSE DDT!!! THE SHOCKER _PLANTED_ SPECTOR, WHO HAD NO IDEA WHAT WAS COMING! [TIME REMAINING - 1:11 SCORE - Travers 2, Ensassarol 2, Spector 3] CC: WE'RE AT ONE MINUTE AND CHANGE! OA: HADES IS STILL OUTSIDE THE RING...AND WAIT A MINUTE! [BOOOOOOOO!!!!!!] OA: HADES JUST TOSSED A CHAIR TO MACK ENSASSAROL!!! DAMMIT, NOW THIS IS _BLATANT_ BIAS! *** CRACK *** [BIG-TIME HEAT!] OA: JESUS! ENSASSAROL JUST HAMMERED SPECTOR'S HEAD LIKE A RAILROAD SPIKE WITH THAT STEEL! [POP!] CC: HEY! OA: TRAVERS JUST CLOTHESLINED THE SHOCKER FROM BEHIND...AND TRAVERS TAKES THE CHAIR! TRAVERS IS GONNA GO YARD! AND _WAIT_! [BOOOOOOOO!!!] OA: HADES JUST STEPPED IN FRONT OF TRAVERS! HE'S TELLING HIM NOT TO USE THAT CHAIR OR HE'LL BE DISQUALIFIED! WHAT THE HELL? ENSASSAROL JUST USED IT RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, HADES! [Travers looks at Hades...] . . . . . *** KKKEEEEEEEE-RAAAAAAACCCKKKKK!!!!! *** [No...I'm serious...] [_THE_ BIGGEST POP OF THE NIGHT!] OA: TRAVERS JUST LEVELED HADES WITH THE CHAIR!!! TRAVERS HAS GIVEN THAT CROOKED REFEREE WHAT WAS _COMING_ TO HIM!!! CC: Travers just struck an I-Slash official! He should be stripped of his title right now, Ambrose! OA: Travers has had enough of Hades! LOOK OUT! ENSASSAROL HAMMERS TRAVERS FROM BEHIND! CC: GOOD! OA: Ensassarol...HE'S GOING FOR THE MACK 10...NO!!! TRAVERS WITH THE COUNTER...SUPLEX...SLINGSHOT... *** BOOM *** [POP!!!] OA: EPIC ENDING!!! EPIC ENDING!!! CC: BUT THERE'S NO REFEREE! TRAVERS HAS NO ONE TO COUNT, AND IT'S ALL HIS FAULT! OA: HADES WOULDN'T HAVE COUNTED THE THREE ANYWAY, BUT TRAVERS COULD TIE THIS MATCH UP WITH SPECTOR RIGHT NOW! AND HE'S GOING TO RUN OUT OF TIME...DAMMIT! [Crowd counting with the clock...] 10 . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 . . . . . . . OA: THIS ISN'T RIGHT! . . . . . . . 8 . . . . . CC: Travers has no one to blame but himself! . . . . . . 7 . . . . . . OA: WAIT! [POP!] OA: REFEREE GEOFF CARTWRIGHT IS SPRINTING DOWN THE AISLE!!! CAN HE GET TO THE RING IN TIME?!? CC: NO!!! . . . . . . 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . OA: HE'S THERE!!! CC: NO!!! 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . [Cartwright begins counting the pin...] Clock Cartwright . . . . . . . . . . . . 4 . . . . . . 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . 3!!! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 . . . . . . ***BUUUZZZZZZ*** . . . . . . . . . . 0 OA: HE GOT IT!!! HE GOT THE PIN!!! [TIME REMAINING - 0:00 SCORE - Travers 3, Ensassarol 2, Spector 3] *** DING DING DING *** CC: COME ON! THE CLOCK RAN OUT! OA: IT'S BEING RULED A LEGAL PIN...BUT WHAT'S THE DECISION HERE?!? TRAVERS AND SPECTOR BOTH HAVE THREE FALLS! [BOOOOOOOOOO!!!] OA: NO!!! HADES AND ENSASSAROL ARE ATTACKING SPECTOR AND TRAVERS!!! THIS IS NOT RIGHT! HADES WITH TRAVERS... *** BOOM *** OA: WIDOWMAKER!!! WIDOWMAKER!!! ENSASSAROL HAS SPECTOR IN THE KEYSTONE CLUTCH! [EVEN MORE HEAT!] OA: ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! HERE COMES SABBATH AND VINCE VIPER! CC: THE WHOLE GANG IS HERE! OA: AND THAT'S ALL THIS IS! A GANG BEATING! [The ring floods with referees and officials to break up the melee.] OA: TRAVERS AND SPECTOR HAVE BEEN LEFT LAYING BY THE REMNANTS OF THE HOA! [The officials finally separate the HOA from the other two men. The crowd showers them with boos as they leave the ring.] CC: Listen to this crowd! OA: This entire match has been a miscarraige of justice! Travers was laid out by a 5-on-1 beating earlier tonight, then he somehow made it to the ring for this match, scored 3 falls in twenty minutes _despite_ a clearly biased offical, and now he and Spector have had to endure the wrath of what's left of the HOA! This is despicable! CC: We still don't have a referee's decision...oh wait... [Geoff Cartwright converses with Francine...] FRANCINE: Ladies and gentlemen, referee Geoff Cartwright has taken over officiating duties of this championship match, and he has made two rulings. Number one...because Eric Travers and Steve Spector were tied at the end of the regulation time period, this matchup... ...WILL CONTINUE!!! [POP!!!] CC: WHAT?!? FRANCINE: Steve Spector and Eric Travers will now compete under...SUDDEN DEATH RULES! OA: OH YEAH!!! CC: He can't make that call! Hades is the referee! OA: Geoff Cartwright is the referee now! FRANCINE: Furthermore...under penalty of suspension...all other wrestlers...ARE _BANNED_ FROM RINGSIDE!!! [HUGE POP!!!] OA: THAT'S THE RIGHT CALL! THAT'S THE RIGHT CALL, DAMMIT! CC: NO IT ISN'T! Hades and Ensassarol have every right to be here; they're as much a part of this match as Spector and Travers! [Security escorts the HOA to the back.] OA: The EWA Title is going to be contested exactly as it _should_ be! Spector and Travers! The first man to get a pinfall or submission will win it! [Spector crawls over to Travers.] CC: SPECTOR'S GONNA TAKE IT HERE! OA: STEVE SPECTOR DRAPES AN ARM OVER TRAVERS... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.999 . . . . . . . . . . . . . [POP!!!] NO!!! CC: WHAT?!? OA: TRAVERS! SOMEHOW, SOME WAY, HE GOT A SHOULDER UP! THE MATCH CONTINUES! [The crowd gets hot and starts rallying behind both men.] Competing Chants: TRA-VERS!!! SPEC-TOR!!! TRA-VERS!!! SPEC-TOR!!! TRA-VERS!!! SPEC-TOR!!! OA: Spector picking up Travers...Travers can barely stand! Irish whip to the corner! Travers tips up...JACK BRISCO ROLLUP ON SPECTOR! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.999 . . . . . . . . . . . . . NO!!! SPECTOR KICKED OUT!!! CC: This match has become a battle of attrition! Both men want to win; neither man can afford to lose! OA: Both men to their feet...SPECTOR RAKES THE EYES! CC: The universal counter! OA: Spector slaps on a front facelock...AND _NOW_ WE WILL SEE THE CHERRY BLOSSOM BOMBER? CC: This'll be _it_ for Travers! OA: Spector lifts...TRAVERS FLOATS OVER! BOOT TO THE GUT! . . . . . . . . . . *** KA-BOOM! *** [FINISHER POP!] OA: EPIC ENDING!!! EPIC ENDING!!! THAT'S ALL! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.999 . . . . . . . . . . . . . NO!!! STEVE SPECTOR KICKED OUT!!! BY GOD, HE KICKED OUT OF THE EPIC ENDING!!! CC: HOW IN THE HELL DID HE DO THAT?!? OA: I cannot believe the heart...the intestinal fortitude...the sheer will to _win_ that we're seeing tonight! [The crowd is at a fever pitch.] OA: Travers pulling Spector to his feet...both men have emptied their arsenals! TRAVERS IS GOING FOR THE EPIC ENDING AGAIN!!! [POP!] OA: INSIDE CRADLE! SPECTOR CAUGHT HIM NAPPING! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.999 . . . . . . . . . . . . . TRAVERS REVERSES! SMALL PACKAGE BY TRAVERS! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.999 . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!! OA: HE GOT HIM!!! *** DING DING DING *** OA: HE DID IT!!! BY GOD, TRAVERS DID IT! FRANCINE: THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH, BY A SCORE OF FOUR FALLS TO THREE... ...AND _STILL_ EWA WORLD HEAYWEIGHT CHAMPION... ..."EPIC"...ERIC..._TRAVERS_!!! OA: BY GOD, ERIC TRAVERS WALKED IN HERE WITH ONE LEG, WITH BUSTED RIBS...HE WENT THROUGH HELL AND BACK AGAIN...BUT HE IS _STILL_ THE EWA CHAMPION!!! CC: What a match! You gotta hand it to all three guys for giving us their all! [The crowd gives the match a grade-A standing ovation. Eric Travers is handed the belt. He raises it high into the air for a second before falling into the ropes to hold himself up. Spector slowly gets to his feet. He stumbles over towards the center of the ring, looking at Travers.] OA: Steve Spector has nothing to be ashamed of! He was a split second away from taking that title! [Spector walks over to Travers and helps him stand. They lock eyes for a second, and Spector raises the arm of Travers in victory. The crowd ERUPTS!] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> OA: TAKE A LOOK AT THIS GREAT DISPLAY!!! WHAT A TRIBUTE TO THE ATHLETES OF THE IWF/WOW TO HAVE THIS KIND OF SPORTSMANSHIP WIN THE DAY!!! [Spector shakes Travers' hand and exits the ring, leaving Travers alone in the ring.] OA: TRAVERS WANTS ALL COMERS! AND BY GOD, I CAN'T WAIT UNTIL HE AND CALEB TEMPLE MEET FACE-TO-FACE IN THAT RING! IT WILL BE ONE FOR THE AGES! [Travers sits in the corner, propped up against the turnbuckles, his face bloodied from the earlier attack, and the subsequent damage in the match. Tricia Lane kneels beside him looking very concerned.] OA: Travers is BEAT! He's been through HELL and the devil himself dragged him right through it! [Travers is then handed the EWA Heavyweight Title. He looks at it for a second, and then turns and asks for a mcirophone from Francine. She hands it to him, and Travers begins to pull himself up, looking quite shaky now that the adrenaline rush has worn off. Tricia Lane is talking to Travers, trying to get him to sit back down, but he puts his hand on her shoulder and appears to tell her he's fine. Then, Travers walks to center ring and lays the EWA title at his feet, straightens up, and raises the microphone.] ERIC TRAVERS: Caleb Temple!! Temple, you want this? Huh? You want the EWA Heavyweight Title? Well why don't you bring your ass down here now that my back ain't turned you son of a bitch!! [Travers suddenly staggers backwards, and falls into the ropes. Lane screams and rushes to Travers, who caught himself on the second rope. Travers is now on one knee with a hand over his eyes, giving the impression that he's experiencing some dizziness. A few EMTs enter the ring and start checking on Travers.] OA: I've only been in the I Slash for a short time compared to Travers, but I was very familiar with him before I came here, and I have NEVER seen him in this condition. CC: Neither have I Owen, in fact I don't think Travers has ever so much as sustained a minor injury. That's making this all the more enjoyable. OA: You're almost as sick as Temple... I take that back, you aren't anywhere near as vile as that man, and THAT is saying something. [Travers has rolled out of the ring, and has his head on his forearm, his forearm resting on the apron. Lane has grabbed the EWA Title, and is holding it as she continues to talk to Travers with a great deal of concern on her face. Travers then stands up again and takes the EWA Title from Lane and throws it over his shoulder, and then begins walking to the back under his own power much to the delight of the crowd.] OA: There goes the EWA Heavyweight Champion! A man carrying a legacy that Caleb Temple isn't ready to transfer to ANYONE! [Cameras cut backstage to the loading dock. The Greater Good hover around an even bloodier, more beaten Arcola than we saw before. He's sprawled across the hood of the limo that Caleb Temple emerged from earlier.] OA: Oh my God. [President Brian Nelson emerges from the herd, looking down at Arcola's crimson mug.] NELSON: Now you know, Justin ... now you know the disease that's REALLY coursing through the blood leaving your body. It's Brian Fuggin' Nelson. It's gonna be slow. Painful. And there aint nobody workin' on a cure. [Nelson snaps his fingers. Chris Shannon jerks Arcola off the hood and drags him toward the door below the glowing red EXIT sign.] NELSON: You don't show up unless I tell you too, Arcola, so I'm giving you the rest of the night off! (((( THUD )))) [Shannon puts Arcola head first into the railing on the door, shoving it wide open. Cooper Concrete grabs a clump of hair for himself as they hurl Arcola out into the cold, frosty night.] OA: After all Arcola's done for this company ... CC: Like put half of it on the disabled list?? [Justin's fingernails claw softly at the concrete. He can no longer lift his head. The door closes slowly and fades to darkness.] ========================= STAY TUNED FOR THE THE CONCLUSION IN IN COLD BLOOD! ========================= OA: Alright, Cordell - we've made it this far. I think we're ready. I think this crowd is ready. We're deep into the _big_ matches of the evening, and this match is the culmination of what has been an amazing feud, between two amazing characters. CC: No Owen, I _don't_ think we're ready for this. No one is. This is an _Alaskan Death Match_, son - a match that the I Slash, IWF/WOW, or whatever you want to call this great place has never seen! Personally, I've seen plenty, and to my recollection I've never seen that damn Gunnar ever lose one. OA: The Alaskan Death Match is finally here, fans! The rules are simple - several bottles of wood grain are placed in an ice bucket in opposite corners of the ring. You take a pin, you take a drink. No exceptions. CC: And no one is allowed down here, Owen! There's actually a bit of security members standing by the entrance to the back right now! Boo those men! OA: And Cordell, the only way to lose is to either pass out, which means you can't answer the referee's ten count after being pinned, or a finale which I personally have experienced too much - you throw up. CC: No one likes to do it Owen, unless you're a supermodel. [sigh] And you're not. OA: Enough, let's get this one started! A match for the ages, fans! Let's go to the ring! ]=====[ALASKAN DEATH MATCH]=====[ ,-_/ ,-,-. ,--. ,,--. , .-,--. ' | ` | | | `-' |`, | ) ' | \ .^ | | |-. | . | | / , | / `--' ,' `-' `--' `---' `--' `-^--' ,-,---. , ,,--. ,,--. .-,--. |___/ ) |`, | |`, | ' | \ , | \ / | | | | , | / `-^---' `--' `---' `---' `-^--' GUNNAR "GRIZZLY" GAINES VS. MATTHEW REASON ]===============[ Writer: King Baptist Supreme FRANCINE: The following contest is an ALASKAN DEATH MATCH! [POP!!!!!] FRANCINE: Once pinned, you must drink from a bottle of wood grain alcohol! The first man to pass out or vomit LOSES the match! Introducing first ... [Strumming... Strumming... ...Is it? Listen and you'll know.] [SCHISM by Tool hits and this place errupts in boos... and wouldn't you know it, some cheers? The audience stands and stares at the entrance awaiting "History's Next Derranged Mind." Waiting. Waiting. Music stops.] [Strumming... Strumming... not Schism. The Strumming turns into "Cat's in the Cradle by Bon Jovi. With that, out walks Matthew Reason. His hair drenched, he wears black boots with silver laces, black jeans with a silver belt. He wears a "In Cold Blood" t-shirt that's cut off at the arms, he stands at the entrance as silver lights beam down the aisle way.] FRANCINE: Hailing from Toronto, Ontario, Canada ... Standing 6 feet 5 inches and weighing in at 259 pounds ... ... M A T T H E W R E A S O N ! ! ! [Reason lifts his head and walks down the aisle. Reason smirks and climbs into the ring. He scouts the area, looking at the buckets in the corner, looking at his environment. He stares as Samantha is pushed to the back by security. Reason takes off his shirt and wraps it over his face, he holds his arms out as the shirt falls in front of him.. Reason looks down, brings his arms down and stares at the entrance waiting for Gunnar.] FRANCINE: And his opponent ... [A man on the I-Sore with a Grizzly Grin takes aim at us all with his B.S. gun, lights all flashing.] ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## [Pause.] ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## [CROWD POP!] ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## [HYUUUUUGE CROWD POP!] [It registers. You'd know that riff anywhere. George Thorogood. Delaware Destroyers. "Bad to the Bone".] [Quick-cut shots of the man delivering Grizzly Slams to various opponents from different angles.] [The drums kick in, the bass comes in and, oh yes, some tasty slide guitar ... ] FRANCINE -- From Fairbanks, Alaska ... he stands 6 feet 5 inches tall and weighs 357 pounds ... He _IS_ "The Baddest Thang Running" ... ... G U N N A R "T H E G R I Z Z L Y" G A I N E S ! ! ! [HUGE POP!] ## On the day I was born .... ## ## They all gathered round ... ## [And Gunnar Gaines himself enters through the portal. He is wearing an unbuttoned red flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off, a black "Equal Opportunity Enforcer" shirt (also without sleeves) under that, and cutoff jeans over thermals ... black work boots with yellow laces ... and slightly curly dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail ... ] ## They gazed at the wide window ... ## At the joy they had found ... [And yes. He's got two of his trademark B.S. detectors. One strapped across each shoulder ... ] ## The head nurse spoke up ... ## Said "leave this one alone" ... [He stops ... stands ... takes in the crowd adulation with his trademark -- a squinting, smirking Grizzly Grin -- on his bearded face ... ] ## She could tell right away ... ## That I was bad to the bone ... [And he heads for the ring. The crowd chants along with the words ... ] ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## ## Bad to the bone ... ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## ## Bad to the bone ... ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## ## B-b-b-b-b-bad ... ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## ## B-b-b-b-b-bad ... ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## ## B-b-b-b-b-bad ... ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## ## Bad to the bone .... [As the second verse begins ... ] ## I broke a thousand hearts ... ## Before I met you ... [... the song fades. By now, Gaines has arrived in the ring. He ascends a corner, boasting with a thumb to his own chest. Then he ascends another, taking aim at the sky with one of his B.S. detectors.] ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## [The crowd eats it up -- and fires back.] ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## [Gunnar flashes a thumb's up -- and a Grizzly Grin. He hops down from his corner perch, shadow boxing a bit.] OA: Holy hell, C. Look at them. These two immense men are standing at opposite corners of the ring, just _staring!_ What are these men thinking Cordell? What can be the game plan for these two? You can _FEEL_ the hatred here! CC: Can they _have_ a game plan? You gotta make your opponent throw up! Just wrestle the match and pin him, an' make him drink! 'Course in Gunnar's case, that might not work ... OA: They're walking closer! These fans are insane! [UUUUUHHHHH!!!] OA: GUNNAR WITH A SHOT! OH! REASON SHOOTS BACK WITH A STARE AND A SMILE![SMACK!] ANOTHER SHOT! DING! DING! [Reason recovers, and again smiles at Gaines] CC: Holy shit, Owen! We've seen Reason in a lot of matches, but this is not the normal mindset - if he ever had one to begin with! OA: Gunnar going for another punch, reversed by Reason! He goes to the back of Gunnar, Gunnar grabs a leg! Oh my! These two are face-to-face right now! They're _intense_, ladies and gentlemen! Like they want to fight each other so bad they don't know what to do! CC: OH! Reason figured it out! OA: Knee to the gut by Reason! And another! Gunnar is keeled over in pain! CC: Look at the force of those knees! OA: And now Reason lifting Gunnar! He drops Gunnar's abdomen area over his knee! WOW! I guess Reason _does_ have a strategy tonight, Cordell! He's focusing on the midsection of Gunnar Gaines! Not sure why yet, but ... OH!Reason with _another_ stomach drop! CC: Not sure _why_ this is his focus, but it's getting the job done! OA: Reason ... _stomach crusher!_ But no pinfall? He grabs up Gunnar by the hair ... Gunnar to the eyes! He pushes Reason off and grabs his stomach! Gunnar in obvious pain here, but he won't quit, that's for sure! CC: He probably _wants_ Reason to pin him right now! Gunnar could use a drink! OA: While Gunnar recovers, Reason has rolled to the outside here ... Not sure what's happening now , but ... hey ... [The fans erupt as Reason reaches under the ring and grabs a sizable weight - a quick zoom reads it as 65 lbs] OA: HEY! What's that doing under there! Reason's bringing it inside the ring! CC: Ah, part of my pre-pay-pre-view workout, Owen. OA: Riiiiiiiight, you're not even wrestling ... but these two are, and Reason is climbing inside with the weight! OH! Gunnar rushes at Reason! AH! [Gunnar goes for a clothesline, which Reason ducks. Gunnar hits the ropes, and bulldogs Reason. The weight rolls into a corner of the ring] OA: Great shift of momentum by Gaines! He's got Reason up by the hair! Talking trash! Now he lifts him! Hammerlock body slam! [Applause by the crowd] OA: Appreciation shown for a _wrestling hold_ in this match, Cordell! CC: It's just a stupid slam to work on Reason's arm. OA: Yes, but now it's set Gunnar up! He tosses Reason to one side of the ring with an arm-toss! Here comes Reason .. and another! Reason in the corner! HERE COMES GUNNAR! [The Gunnar Express plows into Reason in the corner. Reason is dazed against the turnbuckle] CC: Squash city! Reason might think he's on Mars after that move! [Booooooooooo!] OA: LOW BLOW BY REASON! HEY! REF! Reason's awake, and he has that weight! NO! --[CRACK!!]-- CC: Ouch. OA: There's no disqualification, fans, and Matthew Reason just nailed Gunnar in the _head_ with that weight! Just horrible! And now look! He's raising it above his head! CC: HE JAMS IT INTO GUNNAR'S ABDOMEN! HOLY CRAP OWEN! OA: AGAIN! AGAIN! This is sick! [Gunnar absorbs the blows fully on his abs, his face showing above-average levels of pain. He tries to roll over on his stomach so Reason cannot attack it, but Reason is in control and rolls him back over] OA: Holy cow! Reason's strategy is definitely to work on the mid-region here of Gunnar Gaines, but what is that accomplishing? Reason tosses that weight outside, thank God. He looks psychotic, Cordell - a man with a purpose inside that ring, and his purpose tonight is to rid the I Slash of the Grizz! CC: What has surprised me is his direct approach here in the beginning of this match. He wasn't this focused in their other matchups, this is nothing like the Reason I'm used to! OA: Gunnar looks surprised, for one! Reason's got him up now, and Gunnar is in some serious midsection pain. Reason trying to lift him ... no! Gunnar too heavy! Reason tries again ... Gunnar punches Reason in the gut! Gunnar with a HUGE clothesline! Reason _bounces_ off the mat! Gunnar with that fire in his eyes again! CC: RELEASE SUPLEX! OA: Gunnar reaching for his gut after that one! But he's back up! He's stalking toward Matthew Reason - and wait! He's _waved_ to someone in the audience! Who's that up there? [All of a sudden we hear a faint version of a similar sound. The camera zooms to the top of the arena - Ebeneezer Gaines is in the upper deck passing out Gunnar Gaines t-shirts and B.S. Guns - even autographing them. He holds one pointed at the ring in Gunnar fashion, the familiar 'Blooop' sounding through the air] CC: HEY! _No fricking one_ is allowed here during this match, Owen! That's what the security is for on the ramp! How is that damn Geezer up there allowed to be passing out that crap! OA: He's not even _close_ to the ring, Cordell! Give the old guy a break! He's trying to promote his grandson the best way he knows how! CC: Ridiculous, asinine, stupid, hell, this is plain _gay_. I don't need old farts selling merchandise in _my_ arena. OA: Please don't hold the I Slash responsible for Cordell Crane, folks. Gunnar has Reason up after the short family meeting though! He's trying to lift Reason up! HE HAS HIM UP! HE'S ATTEMPTING TO GORILLA PRESS ... [The fans groan] CC: The abs, Owen! His gut didn't hold up! OA: Gunnar crumpled to the mat, along with Reason, but Gunnar is holding those ribs. I'm not entirely sure he's healthy right now, one of those might have cracked from the earlier action with the weight and Reason's knee. Reason spots it! He's kicking Gunnar now! Hard, short kicks! CC: Reason's picking him up now, Owen. OA: Reason has him in a fireman's carry! My god! Reason is airplane spinning Gunnar Gaines! What an amazing display of strength for the insane one! He's going on hisfifth time around! CC: And just imagine when he drops ... OA: [slam!] He just did! And ... OH MY GOD! [The fans lay out an audible shock/groaning sound, as Reason goes off the ropes and lands double knees to the stomach of Gunnar. Gunnar looks ... sick?] CC: WAIT! OF COURSE! OF _COURSE!!!!_ OA: What? CC: Owen! Don't you see! Reason hasn't tried to pin Gunnar _once!_ This is _BRILLIANT!_ Look at Gunnar's face! All this attacking to the stomach area! The knees! The drops! Don't you see! OA: Wow ... yes, yes I do. CC: Matthew Reason is trying to make Gunnar Gaines throw up ... the _hard_ way! OA: I can't believe this, ladies and gentlemen! Cordell is right! LOOK AT REASON! He's applying a mandible claw now! MY LORD! [Reason tries to force his _entire hand_ down Gunnar's throat, as to induce vomiting. Gunnar looks disgusted as he fights Reason off] OA: I can't believe I'm saying this, but Matthew Reason's plan is close to _perfection_ here! He's not pinning Gaines, he's just trying to make him vomit! In every other match, it's Gaines who dominates! Here, Reason is actually on top by a good margin! Mind games _included!_ CC: Brilliant, Owen. The man is brilliant. OA: He's _stuffing_ that hand down Gunnar's mouth! Don't do it, Gunnar! Hold on! [Gaines' strained face shows a lot of determination not to hurl, as his hands grab for Reason's extended arm headed further down his throat. Gaines manages to slip out and around Reason, kicking him in the nuts in the process] OA: Wow - Gunnar had to do whatever it took to get out of that claw! He's coughing in the corner as Reason recovers from that blow! Both men out of it for a moment. CC: I've never seen that before - get someone to actually throw up the _hard_ way in an ADM! Brilliant! OA: Gunnar is actually on his _feet_ here! LOOK AT THOSE EYES! [The crowd ROARS!] OA: Gunnar EXPLODES into Reason! A right! A left! Forearm smash! [aaaaaaaa!] UPPERCUT sends Reason flying into the turnbuckle! Where's Gunnar going? CC: Outside, Owen! Fighting fire with fire! OA: Look at Gaines! He's reaching under the ring too ... oh _my!_ [The crowd pops _HUGE_ as a mass of weapons tied together are unloaded onto the floor outside - fluorescent ceiling lightbulbs, two bats, some kind of wooden sword, a crutch, a cape (just kidding, bro), and _two_ B.S. detectors!] CC: Things are getting interesting! OA: Gunnar's got one of those long bulbs, Cordell! Here comes Reason walking to the corner! He doesn't see what Gaines has! Ah! DUCK! --[[POP! SSSSSSSHHHH!!!]]-- OA: THAT GLASS FLEW TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RING! AND IT BROKE OFF OF REASON'S HEAD! MY LORD WHAT IMPACT! And Reason is just dazed, leaning on those ropes still facing outside! [spits] I have glass in my hair, Cordell! CC: Watch out, another one! --[[POP! POP! SSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHH!!! SSSSSSSSSHHHHH!!]]-- [That was two tied together] OA: Holy cow! Gaines is an animal! Reason is obviously unaware of where he is, but he got launched off of those ropes and hit the mat back-first! Gaines searches through the plunder ... he grabs that wooden stick ... CC: That's no wooden stick, nimrod! I recognize that anywhere! That's a bo'ken, and it was given to him by his Alaskan buddy from his EWA days, Drac'Raven' Dravin - another dumbass loser. OA: Dravin was a stellar competitor in his day, and Gaines had a good friendship with him! He has taken that gift of friendship and uses it for hate today! It's in the ring with him! WATCH OUT! [THAWAP!] [THAWAP!] [THAWAP!] [THAWAP!] [THAWAP!] OA: FIVE HUGE SHOTS TO THE BACK! Reason isn't moving! PIN!! ONE!! TWO!! REASON KICKS OUT!! CC: This is Gaines' first dominant stretch of this match! I hate to say this, but he had Paul Kiljoy beat last week on Graphic Nature! Reason has got to find time to recover! OA: Gunnar is running on pure adrenaline - he's forgotten about that sore stomach. BIG right hand! ANOTHER! A THIRD! Reason is _stunned!_ Another shot with that ... no! Reason traps it under his arm! HEADBUTT and Gaines falls to the mat hard! CC: Great counter by Reason - let's see if he can shake this off. OA: Reason looks dizzy but ... wait ... what is _THAT?_ [Zoom on Reason - yup. It's a pair of handcuffs coming out his back pocket] OA: Handcuffs, Cordell? This isn't going to help you win an Alaskan Death Match, is it? CC: With Reason's strategies tonight, who knows! OA: And there's a swift kick to the back of Gunnar's head - and one to the ribs! Ouch! That's gotta hurt Gaines right now, at this stage in the match. And now ... he's handcuffed, Cordell! Gunnar Gaines has been buckled to the top rope here! And look at Geezer! I can almost hear him from the top deck, yelling for Gunnar to get up! CC: That old, raspy voice coming out clear to you, bro? OA: Cordell, this is no time for jokes! Gunnar Gaines is at Matthew Reason's mercy! Reason ... what is he doing, leaving? No, he's going under the ring ... oh ... OH MY GOD! [The fans ERUPT!!!] OA: OH ... MY ... GOD ... CC: There it is, baby. OA: THE RAZOR-WIRED BAMBOO STICK! That same stick that was used against Reason's father! Little Matthew's hell is slowly becoming Gunnar Gaines' hell, and this is _not_ going to be pretty. Please God, take your children to bed, this is going to be disgust ... [THAWAP!] OA: NO! [THAWAP!] [THAWAP!] [THAWAP!] OA: Those were to Gunnar's head! My God he's opening him up! This is _horrid_ ... no, Matthew! That's enough! He's lifting up Gunnar's arm! [THAWAP!] OA: In the stomach! NO! [THAWAP!] CC: Man ... OA: Reason has lost it, folks - he's laughing maniaically as blood is being tossed around like a nonchalant bath. Finally, Reason drops the bamboo stick ... he's staring at Gunnar. What is he thinking? How can he beat Gunnar Gaines in this match? CC: He's going outside ... [Pop! Pop!] CC: And that's a chair. OA: _More_ beating? I don't understand .. Gaines is almost useless at this point, his eyes are glazed over, and what now ...? [Reason picks up Gaines, and sets him in the chair. His arm is still attached to the ring ropes. We can see his fingers reaching to Gaines' eyes, peeling them up and keeping them open] OA: What in the world ... [LIGHTS OUT!] OA: Oh, no. [The screen lights up] ["Beautiful" by Christina Aguilera plays.] ##Every day is so wonderful## [We see the ending clip of Hannibal where the kid eat's the piece of brain] ##And suddenly, it's hard to breathe## [We see two gay men kissing, tonguing each other] ##Now and then, I get insecure## [Maggots eating bacteria ] ##From all the fame, I'm so ashamed## [A dead kitten laying covered in blood] ##I am beautiful no matter what they say## [A man who's missing half his face after being shot... his face covered in blood.] ##Words can't bring me down## [A football player laying on the floor with one of his feet snapped the other way.] ##I am beautiful in every single way## [A shot of a man with his eyes closed, white as a ghost.] ##Yes, words can't bring me down## [a child with worms coming out of his nose and mouth.] ##So don't you bring me down today## [A dog sniffing at dog shit with flies on it.] ##To all your friends, you're delirious## [A guy throwing up, green shit coming out.] ##So consumed in all your doom## [A guy being eaten by a Crocodile and blood covering the pond, from the Faces of Death video.] [The music stops.] OA: ... CC: ... [silence] [Reason performs the mandible claw again, pushing his fingers down Gaines' throat. Gaines' eyes look ready to explode, his face looking _very_ pale, he seems to be swallowing continuously to keep the bile down] OA: My Lord ... Reason has stooped to a new low, I ... CC: Shut up, Owen. OA: ... [Gunnar's face is moving ... as the fingers go deeper it contorts and contracts ...] OA: Please, Gunnar. Hold on, for all that is good in life. [His eyes are closing ... his breaths becoming shorter ...] OA: Hold on ... [POP! POP! POP! POP!] [Reason ... lets go?] CC: What the hell did he do that for? OA: REASON LET GO OF GUNNAR GAINES! HE WAS STARTING TO PASS OUT, CORDELL! MAYBE THAT'S NOT WHAT REASON WANTED! CC: He's going outside again ... OA: GOOD LORD! HE'S PULLED OUT A SPRAY BOTTLE OF TIDE _BLEACH!_ THIS HAS GONE _WAY_ TOO FAR FOLKS! THIS NEEDS TO BE STOPPED! THIS IS RIDICULOUS! [Gunnar, still in the ring handcuffed, has not moved] CC: Oh man, _bleach_? Reason wants to win, man. He wants him to hurl. OA: Reason, trying to move the immense girth of Gunnar Gaines over to his back. I would assume he's attempting to actually _spray_ that bleach into Gaines' mouth? This has reached new lows, Cordell! This is a _horrid_ display! And Gaines is completely gone, he's completely ... [Suddenly, Gaines opens his eyes. Reason is stunned] OA: Wait a moment ... [Gaines just socked Reason between the eyes with his free hand] OA: HEY! GUNNAR IS ALIVE! GUNNAR IS ... CC: HOLY SHIZZLE! HE JUST PULLED THOSE HANDCUFFS OFF OF THE ROPE! HE SNAPPED THAT CHAIN IN _HALF!_ THE STRENGTH! [The fans are going APESHIT] OA: GUNNAR IS ROARING! HE'S _ROARING_ AT THIS CROWD TO MAKE NOISE! ... WAIT, THERE'S REASON WITH THE BLEACH! OH! [SMACK!] HE KNOCKS IT TO THE HEAVENS! CC: He throws Reason into the turnbuckle ... OA: AH! HERE HE COMES! [Reason stumbles out, and ...] [YAAAAAAHH!!!] OA: GRIZZLY GORE!! GRIZZLY GORE!! CC: Even I'm not feeling bad about this. I'm going to have nightmares for _weeks_ over Reason's, ugh, video. OA: GUNNAR HAS THIS PLACE IN AN UPROAR! He falls to his knees in exhaustion and points to the sky ... no ... he's pointing at Geezer! [We zoom in on the old man and see that he's pulling out one of those t-shirt cannons. Geezer aims it perfectly and fires a t-shirt down to the ring] CC: Shameless promotion? _Now?_ I mean, this is normal for the Gaines family, but ... OA: Wait, Cordell! That shirt is wet! One hundred to one that's ... CC: HEY! REASON'S BEEN DRINKING! [Gunnar turns around with the shirt, and in that same instant, Reason spits a mouthful of wood grain into the eyes of Gunnar Gaines. Gunnar is temporarily blinded by the 400 proof drink] OA: WHOA! GUNNAR'S BLIND! HE CAN'T SEE! AND HE'S STUMBLING AROUND WITH THAT T-SHIRT OUTSTRETCHED ... HE GRABS THE FIRST THING HE CAN! [... and stuffs that wet t-shirt right in his face. Unfortunately, it was the ref. And, even though the zebra-man struggled, he's out like a light now. That was chloroform, ladies and gents] OA: I knew it, Cordell! But he knocked out the ref! Holy heck, this is getting entertaining! CC: But how is this match going to end? Now there's no referee! OA: Ref's out, Reason is resting in the corner, Gaines can't see ... HEY! [Quickly, a fan climbs over the barricade, wearing a baseball cap and long brown hair. He is unrecognizable to the public] OA: What's this? Who's that? He walks up to Reason! Who's crazy enough to do _that!_ CC: Easy, Owen. [The wig comes off] OA: THAT'S RICK BAPTIST! REASON'S BUDDY! NO! NO! NO! CC: He got around security after all, Owen! Rick won't abandon his buddy, not against Gunnar Gaines! [Rick and Reason go to work on Gunnar, punching and kicking the blinded hero. The fans are booing mercilessly] OA: Oh come on - this is an outrage! Someone stop this! Someone! [THE CROWD GOES APESHIT AGAIN! WE SWITCH TO THE AISLE!] OA: OH MY GOD! ... IT'S THE 'DREAMLOVER'! TREY PORTER IS WEARING A NECK BRACE! AND HE'S WALKING DOWN HERE! SECURITY IS LETTING HIM THROUGH! CC: No! No! This isn't right! OA: He _IS_ the VP still, Cordell! And look! He's heading _right_ to his former boss! He's chasing Baptist out of the ring! Here they come! [Camera follows Porter rounding around a corner, following Baptist closely. Baptist backpeddles up the aisle while Porter continues to stalk him. Reason is up on the situation and stirs] OA: HEY! Reason's got that chair! He's coming outside! Watch out Porter! His back's to him! [...] --[[SMACK!!]]-- [POP! POP! POP!] OA: OH MY! DREAMKICK! DREAMKICK PUSHES THAT CHAIR RIGHT _THROUGH_ REASON'S FACE! REASON IS DOWN AND HOLDING HIS CHEEK! AND PORTER NOW _RUNS_ TOWARD BAPTIST! LOOK AT HIM! PORTER IS _BACK!_ CC: Look who else is back! OA: Gunnar is up in the ring! Gunnar is walking outside here ... he's got Reason! He tosses the carcass back inside! And _now_ what? [Gaines reaches under the ring ...] OA: TABLE! TABLE! He's setting that sucker up! What next! _How_ is Gunnar going to win this match? CC: I have _no_ idea, Owen. OA: Gunnar ... he's going to the wood grain! A recharge, maybe? Gunnar looks _horrible_ right now, drenched with blood, wood grain, thoughts of some of the most disgusting things anyone has ever seen, maybe a few broken ribs, and he's going to the bottle! Wait, he's not drinking it?! He .... he's _pouring_ the contents of the wood grain on the table! CC: I have no idea what ... OA: What's he looking for now? He's got that BS gun! He points it at Reason in the ring! [BLOOOOP! BLOOOOP! BLOOOOP!] "BLOOOOP! BLOOOOP! BLOOOOP!" CC: Actually, I don't think Reason's BSing much tonight. [sigh] But I don't see why ... [He tosses that BS gun aside, and grabs the other one on the ground] OA: OH LORD! GUNNAR _DID_ HAVE A PLAN!! [The end of the BS gun bursts into flame! It's tricked out!] CC: The Grizzly's smarter than he looks ... OA: MY GOD! HE'S LIGHTING THAT TABLE ON _FIRE!_ IT'S UP IN FLAMES LIKE NOTHING! GOOD LORD THE HEAT IS HEAVY! CC: That bitch is flaming, baby! OA: Gunnar's in the ring! Look! The referee is up and seeing all! Reason ... Reason is jerked up! He's looking _right_ in Reason's eyes! Look at it, Cordell! This moment right here is _not_ about athletic competition! This isn't about wrestling holds! This isn't about Cheryl Gaines or Samantha Reason! This is, quite simply, two guys who do _not_ like each other! This is _HATRED_, Cordell! Gunnar doesn't have to say a WORD to express it! CC: Reason is still limp from the kick! OA: GUNNAR LIFTS HIM HIGH! LORD HE IS HIGH! MY GOD! OH GOD! NO!!!!!! --BOOM!-- --[[CRASH!!]]-- [POP! POP! POP! POP!] OA & CC: ... [Reason just _cleared_ the top rope and went through the flames] OA: GRRRRRRRRRRIZZLY SLAM! THE HIGHEST WE'VE _EVER_ SEEN! REASON IS _TOAST!_ [Reason lies amongst the ruins of fire and smoldering wood. He's just roasting, not unconscious. Gunnar moves at a normal pace, and pulls out an extinguisher from beneath the ring] OA: He's sprayed Reason down! What has Gaines done! Reason is a human marshmellow! A cover! CC: The referee is counting the pinfall! ONE!! TWO!! THREE!!!!! OA: It's _NOT_ over, fans! Reason can still answer this ten count! 1 2 3 4 5 OA: If Reason doesn't answer the ten-count, that's it! CC: Reason hasn't _stirred_, Owen! 6 7 8 ... 9 ... OA: THAT'S IT! REASON'S NOT MOVING! CC: DAMNIT! 10!! DING! DING! DING! [POP! POP! POP! POP!] OA: What an _amazing_ match! Ten stars, Cordell! Ten stars! CC: _Both_ men had a great gameplan! It was Gunnar's that came through! [Gunnar climbs the ropes, one hand on his gut, the other pouring a bottle of wood grain down his throat. The man is PUMPED and so are the people!] FRANCINE: Here is your winner ... ["Bad To The Bone" plays.] G U N N A R "G R I Z Z L Y" G A I N E S ! ! ! OA: We need attention for _both_ men here! What could possibly top this one? ["Show Me How To Live" by Audioslave plays over the screen as the camera fades in on the I-Sore. It shows Paul Kiljoy and Nate McMannis on opposite sides of the screen, with "SLASH N' BURN -- IWF/WOW WORLD'S HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE" written underneath them. The camera then cuts to the two men exchanging blows in the center of the ring, blood flowing from both men's heads... clearly, this is a visual from their Taipei Death Match in Japan. The music dies down a bit and the image of Johnny Coles appears on the screen, with a black background. The Palace of AUburn Hills responds with a mixed reaction.] JOHNNY COLES: Two men walk into In Cold Blood. Nate McMannis. Paul Kiljoy. How far are they willing to go to be called that _one thing_? Champion. That's what Slash N' Burn is all about. Seeing how far these two are willing to go. Is the former champ willing to kill just to be called it again? Is the current champ ready to die so he'll be called nothing else? Those are the questions Slash N' Burn asks of them, and we should be afraid to see the answers. [The camera comes back to previous images, this time of Paul Kiljoy & Nate McMannis's first match. McMannis is laying on the ground, clutching his knee, and Kiljoy is holding onto a chair arguing with the ref. The ref nonetheless signals for the bell.] # And with the early dawn # Moving right along # I couldn't buy an eyeful of sleep # And in the aching night under satellites # I was not received [A completely naked Paul Kiljoy drops his testicles right on McMannis's face with a Bronco Buster, from Summer Explosion 6.] # Built with stolen parts # A telephone in my heart # Someone get me a priest # To put my mind to bed # This ringing in my head # Is this a cure... # OR IS THIS A DISEASE?! [The music dies down a bit again, and the image of Maverick on the black background appears. Big pop from inside the Palace!] MAVERICK: Slash N' Burn baby! Bottom line is that Maverick has taken each man's best shot, and is still here to look you in the face. But as far as this match goes, just sniff the air. That isn't burnt flesh, but history being made. Nate McMannis is willing to do Whatever_It_Takes to put that Ass of Tricks out of commission once and for all. Paul Kiljoy is doing his best to keep his Legacy alive. We're waiting in anticipation to see just what is going to happen. # NAIL IN MY HAND # FROM MY CREATOR # YOU GAVE ME LIFE! # NOW SHOW ME HOW TO LIVE! [Nate McMannis drops Kiljoy with the Head Trauma, as golf balls and teeth spew from his mouth.] # NAIL IN MY HAND # FROM MY CREATOR # YOU GAVE ME LIFE! # NOW SHOW ME HOW TO LIVE! [Black background once again, music dies down. This time, Matthew Reason appears on the screen. Heel pop!] MATTHEW REASON: Two people I wish death upon... Nate McMannis, Paul Kiljoy. What a joyous event, Slash N' Burn... may you two fucking kill each other. [As the music picks back up, we return to the scene of Paul Kiljoy wrapping barbed wire around Nate McMannis's throat and throwing him over the top-rope, virtually hanging him by the razors of the wire. McMannis's screams blend into the screams of Paul Kiljoy as McMannis dives off of the laddder from their Stairway to Hell Match, dropping the barbed wire right into Kiljoy's jugular.] # And in the after birth # On the quiet earth # Let the stains remind you # You thought you made a man # You better think again # Before my role defines you [Paul Kiljoy drives a shard of glass into Nate McMannis's head. The shard sickeningly sticks in his skull for a second before falling to the side.] # NAIL IN MY HAND # FROM MY CREATOR # YOU GAVE ME LIFE! # NOW SHOW ME HOW TO LIVE! [Nate McMannis grins as he watches the octagonal cage fall onto Kiljoy's chest. He goes down to his knees to whisper into Kiljoy's ear.] # NAIL IN MY HAND # FROM MY CREATOR # YOU GAVE ME LIFE! # NOW SHOW ME HOW TO LIVE! [Kiljoy stands in the ring with Brendon and Rachel McMannis. He turns and licks Rachel's face. The scene cuts forward, as Nate McMannis bum rushes the ring and takes Kiljoy down with a big time lariat. Once again the music dies down a bit and the black background emerges, with Trevor Storm in front of it. Big heel pop!] TREVOR STORM: I'll tell ya what I think about Slash N' Burn. I think you've got two guys caught up in way too much, and they're gonna get hurt because of it. I mean, what do they got to prove? They've killed each other for, what? Four months now, and they call this the final hurrah? Some fucked up torturous situation that they both dreamed up. I say, let 'em have their blood and guts. If a slab 'a gold is that important....[shrugs], I say _paint_ the walls red. [The scene fades, and now in front of the black background is "Epic" Eric Travers. Pop!] ERIC TRAVERS: It's two men who want to tear each other's head off... two men consumed with the I Slash World Title... two men willing to step into a cage like none anyone has ever seen... they're both insane, and this is their element, and neither of them will ever be the same when it's over. [We then cut to Taipei Death Match. McMannis hurls Kiljoy into the bucket of glue and then into the bucket of glass. Kiljoy removes himself from the barrel covered in glass pieces.] # And in our waiting hands # I will land # And roll out of my skin # And in your final hours I will stand # Ready to begin... [The scene now cuts to Paul Kiljoy's locker room. His face is full of determination.] # Ready to begin... [Cut to the Trifecta locker room. Maverick and Eric Travers throw up the Trifecta hand symbol. McMannis throws it up as well, then exits the locker room. # Ready to begin... [Kiljoy leaves his locker room and begins walking towards the ring.] # READY TO BEGIN!!! [McMannis bursts through his locker room door, slams his fists against the wall and marches towards the ring. We cut screen as the two men are making their way down the locker room area towards the ring. Kiljoy is stoic, and McMannis is filled with adrenaline. THe music dies down once more and we face Justin Arcola on the black background. POP!] JUSTIN ARCOLA: I've been in the ring with both of these men, and I'll tell you straight up: they'll both keep fighting even if every single bone in their body is broken. Slash N' Burn...it's an instrument. It's a stage where they'll both be putting on the performance of their life. Expect the unexpected. # NAIL IN MY HAND # FROM MY CREATOR # YOU GAVE ME LIFE! # NOW SHOW ME HOW TO LIVE! [The camera cuts and we see McMannis holding the World Title up in the air, holding his family in his arms, beside Eric Travers and Maverick, after his bloody Taipei Death Match victory.] # NAIL IN MY HAND # FROM MY CREATOR # YOU GAVE ME LIFE! # NOW SHOW ME HOW TO LIVE! [The camera cuts to a bloody Paul Kiljoy holding the World Title in the air after his victory in the Stairway to Hell.] # SHOW ME HOW TO LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! # SHOW ME HOW TO LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! # SHOW ME HOW TO LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! # SHOW ME HOW TO LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! [And the infamous black background once more as the music dies down. This time, a man appears in the background that we haven't seen in a long, long time. It's "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock. _HYUUUUUUUUUUUGE_ POP!] BILLY ROCK: I'm a three time IWF/WOW World Champion. I know what it takes, what it means, and what it demands to round the summit of the highest peak in this industry. So when I heard about the Slash n' Burn ... I had to ask myself if I could do that. If I could've stood behind that championship and convinced myself I could walk into this demonic contraption and survive. I've seen it, and for the first time ... I just don't know. Then I look at Nate McMannis. I look at Paul Kiljoy. I ask myself if they can do it. For the second time ... I just don't know. But as I look the Slash n' Burn over one more time ... I do know _this_. Better them than me. [Billy Rock's image fades, and it is replaced on the I-Sore by the image that started the video package. Nate McMannis next to Paul Kiljoy, with the caption, "SLASH N' BURN -- IWF/WOW WORLD'S HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE." The crowd begins stirring and rustling as Francine enters the ring.] OA: That about says it ALL, but there's one more verse. It won't close the book on these two. This is merely another chapter. "Legacy" Paul Kiljoy and "Suicidal" Nate McMannis have affected every dimension of one another's lives. From professional, to home, to physical and emotional. Nothing has been spared in the months these two have had their teeth in each other's throats. CC: I've never in all my years seen a rivalry reach the pitch this one has. We're looking at two lifelong adversaries here. This match won't settle it once and for all, only for the time being. OA: On a night that's risen above all expectations and wildest dreams, we're about to witness the most significant of all. The battle for supremacy. The last one on one encounter for a long, LONG time between Nate McMannis and Paul Kiljoy. Sit back ... and cringe. ]=====[IWF/WOW WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP]=====[ ,-_/ ,-,-. ,--. ,,--. , .-,--. ' | ` | | | `-' |`, | ) ' | \ .^ | | |-. | . | | / , | / `--' ,' `-' `--' `---' `--' `-^--' ,-,---. , ,,--. ,,--. .-,--. |___/ ) |`, | |`, | ' | \ , | \ / | | | | , | / `-^---' `--' `---' `---' `-^--' "LEGACY" PAUL KILJOY VS. "SUICIDAL" NATE McMANNIS ]===[SLASH N' BURN]===[ Writer: Nelson FRANCINE: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! It is the SLASH N' BURN match for the IWF/WOW WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!!! [BLOODTHIRSTY POP!!!!!] FRANCINE: Introducing first ... [The opening chords to Disturbed's "Down With the Sickness" blast over the PA, and the lights in the arena go out completely. When the intro ends and the guitar riff kicks in, a loud explosion goes off in the entranceway, and a black smoke cloud forms.] FRANCINE: Hailing from Santa Fe, New Mexico! He stands six feet tall, and weighs in at two hundred and ninteen pounds... [As the smoke dissipates, the form of a man appears. The man is "Suicidal" Nate McMannis. The crowd reacts with a _huge_ ovation for the fan favorite, but quiet down as the lights in Mayhem Arena go out completely.] [Explosions go off in the entranceway... ___BOOM___ ___BOOM___ ___BOOM___ ... and streamers erupt into the roof of the arena.] # !!! ___OOH___ ___WAH___ ___AH___ ___AH___ ___AH___ !!! # [TEAR THE ROOF OFF OF MAYHEM ARENA!] [The lyrics to "Down With the Sickness" continue, and Nate McMannis begins walking to the ring. A spotlight focuses on him, and he plays to the crowd, moving from side to side on the entrance ramp, elevating his arms and screaming inaudibly. His ear-length, dark brown hair is parted down the center, with the bangs hanging in his face. Purple streaks are strewn about throughout his hair, which is drenched.] FRANCINE: Ladies and gentlemen... please welcome... ... "S U I C I D A L" ... N A T E M c M A N N I S ! ! ! [The crowd responds to the introduction with a huge face pop, as Nate McMannis steps in between the top and middle ropes into the ring. He holds the thumb of his left hand to his neck, drawing attention to the tattoo of a dagger that runs across his throat... "Suicidal" Nate McMannis runs the thumb 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 black elbowpads, purple wrist tape, black pant-length, leather tights, and black leather boots. He wears a black leather vest over his attire as well.] [McMannis removes the vest and throws it out of the ring. He hops one of the cameraside cornerposts and raises his arms in pre-celebratory victory, eliciting the biggest pop of his entrance ritual.] FRANCINE: And his opponent ... # # # WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! # # # [An image of Paul Kiljoy spills onto the I Sore] PAUL KILJOY (V/O) - Scream for me. ["Gave Up" by NIN & Marilyn Manson begins to play over the loudspeakers. Various shots of Kiljoy flashes through the I Sore, at times interrupted with a screaming woman, or a close-up of his face. The crowd rises in unison to their feet, stifled cries of both joy and anger fill the building] # Perfect little dream, the kind that hurts the most # # Forgot how it feels, well almost # # No one to blame, always the same # # Open my eyes, wake up in flames # # It took you to make me realize # # It took you to make me realize # # It took you to make me realize # # It took you to make me see the light # FRANCINE - ... from Boston, Massachusetts, standing six foot three inches and weighing two hundred, forty-four pounds ... the ___ IWF/WOW WORLD CHAMPION ___ ... "L E G A C Y" ... P A U L K I L J O Y ! ! ! # Covered in hope and vaseline # # Still cannot fix this broken machine # # Watching the hole it used to be mine # # Just watching it burn in my steady systematic decline # [BOOM! BOOM! S-S-S-SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!] [The bright fireworks fade to smoke. Slowly emerging from the curtains is 'Legacy' Paul Kiljoy. The World championship around his waist glimmers in the spotlight. His clothes look ragged, worn. He wears a ragged-looking 'Scream For Me' t-shirt. A quick zoom-in reveals a man with sleep-deprived eyes and greasy medium-length blond hair, and on his forehead, what looks to be the remains of crusty, dried blood from another day. Instead of moving toward the aisle to touch him, fans move away as Kiljoy stalks down the aisle] # Of the trust I will betray # # Give it to me I throw it away # # After everything I've done # # I hate myself for what I've become # [Kiljoy enters the ring and faces the referee, his expression a mix between carelessness and hate. He stares hard, as if in a dream that he cannot escape from. His head quickly turns to examine the audience, while a mix of praise and disdain follows his gaze. Slowly, the World championship is raised to his lips, and a small kiss delivered. The title is dropped. He awaits the sound of the bell like a caged dog waiting to strike] # I tried # # I gave up # # Throw it away # [Kiljoy and McMannis do not connect eyes. They scope their surroundings, obviously intimidated.] OA: This contraption is so overwhelming it looks like they have forgotten the other is even there. CC: Oh they know who's there. They know exactly why they're here. In fact they probably feel like the other is ALWAYS around. DING! DING! [Kiljoy pries his eyes away from the bed of hot coals and glares over his shoulder. McMannis simultaneously lowers his eyes from the blowtorch.] CC: Oh yeah. They DEFINITELY remember why they're here! OA: THERE THEY GO! NOTHING BETWEEN THEM BUT A MAD DASH! [POP!!!!] [Wisely avoiding a head-on collision, McMannis captures Kiljoy's leg and cranks out a dragonscrew. Kiljoy's momentum stops near the apron. He looks down, feeling the smoldering coals below warming his face.] OA: BASEBALL SLIDE TO THE RIBS! [Kiljoy wraps his arms around the bottom rope, preventing a fall into the coals. He stands up on the apron, meeting McMannis face to face.] OA: McMannis wants to suplex Kiljoy back in. CC: Kiljoy wants to suplex McMannis out! OA: If he does, McMannis will burn! It's already a battle of wills! Both men straining for leverage! [McMannis throws a knee through the ropes, stunning Kiljoy with contact to the stomach.] OA: Suplex! Wait, Kiljoy floats over his back! [He wraps his arm around McMannis's head so that his chin rests on his shoulder. Kiljoy rapidly scales the ring ropes springboards into a complete 180.] ((( BOOM ))) OA: ACID DROP! [He brings McMannis to his knees and applies a standing headscissors.] CC: Kiljoy with a patriot bomb! McMannis is rattled. Kiljoy shook him up with that one. OA: The champion slaps on a side headlock. Cranking on it too. He looks like he wants McMannis's brain to squirt out his ears! Kiljoy to his feet. Says farewell to the headlock and latches on with a rear waistlock. GERMAN SUPLEX! CC: No! OA: BACKFLIP! McMANNIS WITH A FLAWLESS LANDING! Full nelson locked! [POP!!!!!] OA: __ RELEASE DRAGON SUPLEX!! __ Kiljoy is DRIVEN onto he back of his neck! CC: They're hitting hard and they're hitting fast. [The camera circles the outside of the cage as McMannis stands, giving the viewers at home a chilling view through the fence.] OA: What a sight. Never before in the I-Slash, or in all of wrestling, have we ever had a vision like this, and Paul Kiljoy and Nate McMannis are caught right in the middle of it. CC: Alright, Ambrose. I think it's safe to assume anyone who's going to order the pay-per-view has already done so. OA: McMannis with a snap suplex. But he won't let go. He rolls Kiljoy over and sets him up for another. No ... sit-out gourdbuster! [McMannis remains seated around Kiljoy's head and underhooks his arms.] OA: Modified full nelson. Only temporary. He rolls Kiljoy over into a backslide! Shades of Justin Arcola! ONE! OA: No cigar. CC: I don't blame either one of these guys for trying to leave the office early tonight. This match could take years off both men's careers. OA: McMannis sends him for the ride. Kiljoy leapfrogs! McMANNIS CATCHES HIM! [Nate carries Kiljoy backward and attemps to dump him over the top.] CC: KILJOY'S ABOUT TO TAKE A BATH IN THAT GLASS N' GLUE CHOWDER! [The champ grabs the top rope and lets McMannis release him. He skins the cat back in before McMannis can counter, killing the crowd's buzz.] OA: Close call for Kiljoy. McMannis turns around, and HE'S SNAGGED WITH A HURRICARANA! Kiljoy pins him down with a blizzard of rights! [McMannis raises his legs and hooks Kiljoy by the shoulders.] OA: Sunset! ONE! TWO! OA: Kiljoy claps the ears with his ankles! CC: Make sure McMannis knows that the ringing in his ears is NOT the victory bell. OA: Both men up! Kiljoy stomps him in the breadbasket! Scoops him up-- No! McMannis rides the momentum over his shoulder! Rear waistlock! Kiljoy throws back an elbow and breaks it! [GASP!!!] OA: URAKEN IS __BLOCKED!__ [McMannis has Kiljoy's forearm tucked into his armpit.] CC: I've seen it avoided! I've NEVER seen it blocked! [POP!!!!!] OA: FUJIWARA ARMBAR!! CC: No! Kiljoy escapes! OA: And he takes a powder to the outside. HERE COMES McMANNIS!!! ((( CLANG ))) OA: TOPE THROUGH THE ROPES DELIVERS KILJOY TO THE CAGE!!! [Kiljoy's right shoulder is immediately lacerated. Several small incensions appear across his shoulder blades.] CC: Kiljoy is sliced! [McMannis grabs two clumps of hair and presses Kiljoy's face into the fence. We see several of the blades glimmer around his head as McMannis brushes the wall with his face.] OA: HE'S GRATING KILJOY'S FACE!! PAINTING THE CAGE WITH HIS BLOOD!! CC: I've heard of a close shave, but this is cutting it _too_ close! [Our ears are terrorized by the sound of Kiljoy's gravely cries. McMannis jerks his head back and slams it against the cage. Kiljoy drips to his knees.] OA: KILJOY'S A DISASTER!!! A BLOODY, STOMACH TURNING MESS!! [Thick, rich lanes of crimson flow down Kiljoy's face. His eyes are heavy. They shift aimlessly as his tongue is plagued with the potent taste of iron.] CC: Look at what's become of him already! Look at what McMannis is doing to him! OA: Nate drags him around the ring, filling his ears with hatred as Kiljoy struggles not to fall! He's taking him toward the heat!! HE'S GOING TO RAKE KILJOY OVER THE COALS!! CC: KILJOY'S ABOUT TO BE ROASTED, AND I DON'T THINK DEAN MARTIN OR DON RICKLES WILL BE ATTENDING THIS ONE! OA: McMannis scoops him up! [The crowd salivates at the thought of Kiljoy blistering.] "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWW!!!!!!" OA: KILJOY SLIDES DOWN HIS BACK!! [The champ hunkers down and wraps his arms around Nate's nearest thigh. He elevates him and falls back ... ((( BONG ))) ... dropping McMannis flat across the top step.] CC: TEARDROP SUPLEX ON THE STAIRS!! [Kiljoy grabs a nearby ladder, leading to the blowtorch, and lays it across the floor. He ascends the steps and pulls McMannis up into a facelock.] ((( CLACK ))) OA: A SUPLEX ONTO THE LADDER!!! CC: Every bit of offense tonight has been brutal! There's been no fluff! There's been no strategy! They're just ripping into each other! [Kiljoy rolls him off the ladder and props it up against the cage. He tucks McMannis's legs into his armpits.] OA: SLINGSHOT INTO THE LADDER!! ((( CLACK ))) [Nate is immediately thrown onto his back from the ricochet. The ladder wobbles ... teeters ... ((( CLACK ))) ... and topples straight down onto him.] OA: McMannis gets FLATTENED by fifteen feet of steel! [Kiljoy climbs to the apron with his back facing the brutal scene.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> ((( CLACK ))) ((( THUD ))) OA: ASAI MOONSAULT!!! CC: HELL YEAH!! HE WENT FLIPPITY FLOPPITY _KAPLOW_ ON NATE'S ASS! [Kiljoy writhes between the ladder and the cage. McMannis remains battered beneath.] OA: We're only in the infant stages of this match and both men seem to be on their last legs! CC: This isn't just the result of tonight, Ambrose. These are the effets of MONTHS and MONTHS of burning hatred! Of stiff, violent competition! And they're worn out! They're exahausted, but this is the home stretch! It's winner take _all_! OA: Kiljoy removes the ladder. He's looking down on McMannis, trying to conceive the worst possible fate for the thorn in his side! [Kiljoy inspects the nearby bed of coals and moistens the corner of his mouth with his tongue.] CC: Things are about to heat up! OA: Kiljoy with the standing headscissors and waistlock. [He elevates McMannis into powerbomb territory and whirls toward the coals.] OA: OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!! OH MY GO-- ((( THUD--SSSSSSSSSSSSSS ))) "UUUUUUUUUWWWWWWAWAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" ((( THUD--SSSSSSSSSSSSSS ))) ((( THUD--SSSSSSSSSSSSSS ))) "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" OA: TRIPLE POWERBOMB INTO THE COALS!!! THE WHITE HOT ROASTING COALS!!! [Kiljoy pulls McMannis from the small inferno and begins to wipe his face across the razorwire threaded fence.] "UUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHH!!!" CC: LOOK AT McMANNIS'S BACK!! HIS SKIN IS SCORCHED!! SHOULDERS BLISTERING!! "UUUUUUUUUUWWWWWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: AND KILJOY THROWS HIM BACKWARD, BACK ON THE COALS!! [McMannis's feet fly over his head, rolling quickly over the grill and underneath the ring skirt.] OA: THIS IS ATROCIOUS!! WHO BOOKED THIS NONSENSE!? WHO THE HELL LET _PAUL KILJOY_ DEPOSIT HIS TWO PENNIES IN THE SUGGESTION BOX!? CC: I think this is brilliant! I only wish Kiljoy could design ALL the matches! OA: He pulls McMannis from under the ri-- ((( FFFFFSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH ))) [POP!!!!] OA: HE'S GOT A FIRE EXTINGUISHER!! KILJOY'S BEEN ENGULFED!! [Paul backpeddles across the coals as the smell of burning soles hits the front row. McMannis lunges across the coals and slams the but of the extinguisher into Kiljoy's skull, rocking it off the fence.] "UUUUUUUWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!" OA: Smoke is billowing around these two animals! I can barely see what's going on! [From out of the smoke comes a suplex that plops Kiljoy down on the coals.] ((( THUD--SSSSSSSSSSSSSS ))) KILJOY: "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH FFFFFUCK!!!!" CC: Cover your kids ears at home! OA: Put them to bed even! CC: Thank you Snagglepuss. OA: Well children shouldn't be subjected to this! [McMannis rotates his hips with force, turning Kiljoy onto his knees while maintaining the facelock.] KILJOY: "GOOOOODAMMIT!!!" CC: HIS KNEES! THEY'RE BEING SCALDED!! OA: That might keep him out of Nelson's office for months! CC: AMBROSE! OA: IT'S PAY-PER-VIEW _BAYBEEE!!_ Hehehe! CC: Okay, that was KINDA funny. ((( CLING ))) "UUUUUUUWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!" OA: SUPLEX TO THE CAGE WITH MALICE!! [Kiljoy oozes down the links, onto the back of his neck. His back being lacerated in several vicinities.] CC: Look at his back! It looks like a tic-tac-toe board! OA: McMannis tears him off the concrete! There is NO rest for the wicked tonight! He's taking Kiljoy around the horn! TOWARD THE GLASS AND GLUE! MY GOD! CC: Just when you thought it was safe to go to the other side of the ring! There's NO safe haven in the Slash n' Burn!! OA: McMannis scoops him up! BUT NO! KILJOY SLITHERS DOWN HIS BACK! REAR WAISTLOCK AND PIVOT! McMANNIS: "AAAWWWW SSHHHHH--- " ((( THUD-KKKKSSSSSSSHHHHHHHH ))) CC: WAITER, THERE'S A McMANNIS IN MY GLASS N' GLUE SOUP!! OA: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! HE SIDE SUPLEXED HIM STRAIGHT RIGHT INTO THE GLASS POND!! CC: Nice call, Buddy Ebson. OA: Kiljoy may have dipped the back of his head in there in the process!! This is OBSCENE, Cordell! CC: Just goes to show what thirty bucks will buy you these days! The people are getting the bang for their buck! OA: Kiljoy KNOWS there's no time to bleed! He's turning McMannis over! SWEET JESUS HE'S RAKING HIS FACE ACROSS THE GLASS!! THIS IS BARBARIC!! THIS IS ... THIS IS ... CC: BETTER THAN SEX! OA: And the lust for McMannis's blood glimmering in Kiljoy's eyes agrees with you! HE'S PAINTING THE GLASS WITH NATE'S BLOOD!! LOOK AT IT SPILL!! [Kiljoy peels McMannis's face off the glass, mangled flaps of skin camouflaged by his own dark red blood, and blows his hair back with the shrill, hoarse pitch he tears from his own throat.] KILJOY: "_SCREAM FOR ME_, YOU BLOODY CUNT!!!! LOVE ME _NOW!!_" OA: Unholy. It's the only word. CC: They may be part of each other! They may be conjoined by fate! But by God people, we're gonna find out tonight if they can live without each other, because one of them isn't going to survive! [Kiljoy mocks everything Nate McMannis believes about this relationship when he pats his hand over his heart as if it were pounding, then balls it up and puts it to the back of his head, sending him face first into the glass.] OA: It's NEVER been like this! As a fan! As an intern! As a broadcast journalist for this company! I have NEVER seen it come to THIS for the world championship! [Kiljoy stands from his kneeling position on leg power alone, only to limp like the living dead toward the second ladder positioned just below the lighter fluid.] OA: God almighty, someone stop this! Someone put a merciful end to this absurdity right now! I'm begging Brian Nelson as the newly re-elected president! I'm begging referee Miguel Hernandez! Someone muzzle this insanity! CC: NO! LET THIS DOG BARK! THIS _HAS_ TO HAPPEN, AMBROSE! OTHERWISE THERE WILL _BE NO_ END! THESE TWO WILL TERRORIZE EACH OTHER AND THE I-SLASH FOR _ETERNITY!_ [Kiljoy pries the legs of the ladder apart and steadies the contraption. He takes a painful step onto the second rung ... pulls himself slowly to the third ... and rests his weary, battered head on the fourth.] OA: He can't make it! Kiljoy's fighting for his next breath in there, and he has do decide if that's more important than the next rung! [McMannis, like an infant learning to crawl, struggles to his knees. Blood gruesomely leaving his head like a busted pipe. We have NEVER seen the man in this condition, and he's never felt so weak ... so fast.] OA: GET UP, NATE! GET UP AND _FIGHT!_ YOU'RE LOSING BLOOD, BUT NOT YOUR HEART, KID!! CC: Put your crank back between your thighs, Ambrose! You're suppose to be unbias! OA: Well-- CC: CLIMB, KILJOY!! YOU'RE THE MIGHTY KONG AND THAT LADDER IS THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING!! FAYE RAY'S AT THE TOP WAITING FOR YOU TO HOSE HER PRETTY FACE!! [Kiljoy approaches the top, digging his fingers into the steel, no doubt digging his fingernails back into his own skin. He reaches out. Desperately.] [BLOODTHIRSTY POP!!!!!] OA: HE'S GOT IT!! KILJOY'S GOT THE SPARK HE NEEDS TO BURN McMANNIS TO THE GROUND!! CC: And the like the phoenix he will RISE from Nate's ashes with the world title above his head! [McMannis's head is too heavy to lift as he crawls aimlessy, but in a fortunate direction. He slaps one hand on a rung several steps below Kiljoy. Sensing a ripple in fate, Nate lifts his head and looks toward the sky. All he sees in the blinding lights beaming from the rafters is an angel of death hovering above, harnessing the components of hell itself.] "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" OA: McMANNIS'S CHOIR IS HITTING A HIGH NOTE!! [Kiljoy licks the blood from his fingers as he sees the source of all his hatred emerge from unearthly pain. He aims the cannister of fluid down and pinches, raising and lowering it as if pouring a drink behind the bar.] OA: MY GOD HE'S DOUSING McMANNIS!! HE'S FLAMMABLE!! NATE McMANNIS IS A WALKING FIRE HAZARD!! CC: BUT HE'S ROCKING THE LADDER!! HE'S UPSETTING THE BALANCE OF POWER HERE!! [There's nothing to do but cringe as the ladder teeters toward the ring. Kiljoy, in his moment of panic, HURDLES over the ladder. Poor, poor Kiljoy.] OA: HOLY GOD HE'S HEADING FOR THE-- (((((((( CLACHUNGGGGGG )))))))) [The world stops ... for a brief, agonizing moment ... as Kiljoy stunguns himself across the coils of razorwire on the rim of the octagon. As sickening fate would have it, like vines coming alive, his head is lassoed. He skids down the wall of the cage. His fingers sliding through the links and clasping within a breath of having his neck possibly snapped.] "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" CC: HOLY SHIT IS RIGHT!! THE GRIM REAPER IS KNOCKING ON KILJOY'S DOOR!! OA: ... [The razors embedded in his palms don't matter. The only pain Kiljoy knows is emotional as his future is compressed into fleeting seconds.] OA: ... stop this ... [McMannis remains on his knees, but he won't rest. He reaches for the ladder and jerks it away from the apron. The only thing between the ladder and the cage is ... ((((( CRACK ))))) ... Kiljoy.] "UUUUUUUWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!" [The wire snaps. Kiljoy's palms shred as he plummets to the unsympathetic concrete.] CC: NEITHER ONE IS RECOGNIZABLE!! THESE TWO ARE NOTHING MORE THAN FACELESS VEHICLES OF FLESH AND DETERMINATION!! [McMannis topples forward. Through no specific calculation of his own, his chest meets Kiljoy's.] OA: COUNT IT! LET THIS BE OVER! [Hernandez slaps the concrete. Auburn Hills counts along.] "ONE!!!!" "TWO!!!!" "THREEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!" [?] "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWW!!!!!!" OA: NO!! NO, NO, NO!! [Owen's cries sound more like pleas for help than an observation.] CC: KILJOY'S NOT OF THIS WORLD!! A NORMAL MAN WOULD BE CRAWLING INTO HIS CASKET BY NOW!! [McMannis presses his hands against Kiljoy's quivering chest and rolls away. He can't even muster up frustration. He rolls into the ring and finds his feet beneath him via the ropes. He rests his head on the top cable before raising his face. If we could see his eyes behind the crimson they would reflect sheer determination. He stretches backward and catapults himself.] OA: SLINGSHOT!!! "UUUUUUUWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!" [Kiljoy's breath escapes his body as McMannis connects with a sloppy, but accurate somersault senton.] CC: IMPACT ON KILJOY'S STERNUM! [Nate kicks off the cage, tumbling backward and once again onto Kiljoy for the cover.] ONE!! TWO!! THR--NOOO!! [McMannis, drenched in his own blood and reaking of lighter fluid, pulls Kiljoy's face into the ire of his balled up right hand.] OA: Frustration is setting in! CC: So is fatigue! Kiljoy just BARELY kicked out of that! OA: McMannis on the other hand seems to have sucked in his second wind! He confiscates the cannister of lighter fluid that Kiljoy dropped as he was hanged from the cage! [McMannis walks away from Kiljoy, around the octagon, and toward the coals. He turns the cannister over and sprays.] OA: My God, he's lathering the hot coals in lighter fluid! Do you realize what that means, Crane!? CC: I hope Kiljoy wore plenty of sunscreen! [Nate props up the ladder knocked over earlier in the contest and stablizes beneath the blowtorch. He begins his ascent.] [ANTICIPATION POP!!!!!] OA: Nate McMannis is heading up toward the blowtorch! CC: He better use that odor left on him as a constant reminder that he's just as flammable as those coals are now! That blow torch in his hands could be just as hazardous to him! OA: He's up there, Crane! McMannis is at the top and-- [POP!!!!] OA: HE'S GOT IT!! HE WIELDS THE ELEMENTS OF HELL IN HIS VERY HAND!! [Kiljoy languishes near the apron, resting his weary hand, not giving a flying fuck what McMannis is up to. He rolls into the ring, disregarding any pain the razorwire tangled in his hair and around his collarbone may be inflicting.] OA: Kiljoy taking a shortcut. McMannis is ready for him! He's standing behind that bed of coals, brandishing the blowtorch, just daring him to take one more step! [The orphan of King Rancor and brother of the late James "Joker" Kiljoy puts a fierce grip on the top rope. Flight is hinted at but delayed as McMannis turns the nosel. A thin rope of fire protrudes. He kneels and touches it against the coals, jogging quickly back to the cage like one would after lighting the fuse on a firecracker. A crackle is heard. And suddenly ... combustion.] ((( WWWWWHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHHH ))) CC: FIRE IN THE HOLE!! OA: NATE McMANNIS IS STANDING BEHIND A SMALL WALL OF FIRE!! HOW DOES KILJOY GET TO HIM!? [After a brief stalemate, Kiljoy and McMannis's eyes meet through splinters in the flames. With reckless abandon, Kiljoy shows what it takes to be the IWF/WOW World Champion.] [GASP!!!!] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> ((( CHING ))) "UUUUUUUWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" OA: MY GOD!! MY GOD HE JUST CATAPULTED HIMSELF _THROUGH THE FIRE_, TAKING McMANNIS INTO THE CAGE!!! CC: YOU CAN'T RUN, McMANNIS! YOU CAN'T HIDE BEHIND ANYONE, ANYTHING, OR ANY _ELEMENT!_ [Kiljoy rolls across the floor and to his knees. He sucks in some of that sweet, smokey air and lifts the skirt of the ring around the corner.] OA: Out comes the timber! Kiljoy's got a table! "WE WANT TABLES!!!!" (clap, clap, clap, clap) "WE WANT TABLES!!!!" (clap, clap, clap, clap) "WE WANT TABLES!!!!" (clap, clap, clap, clap) "WE WANT TABLES!!!!" (clap, clap, clap, clap) CC: And they're asking for it! I don't know who's more disturbed! Kiljoy and McMannis for putting themselves through it, or these filthy Michigan factory rats for agging it on! OA: Kiljoy's setting the table up OVER the fire! CC: And it aint weenies he'll be roasting! OA: The table's catching fire! The flames are engulfing it! [Kiljoy stuffs McMannis into the ring, climbs to the apron, and reaches down for him over the top rope. With two handfuls of hair he pulls him to his feet.] CC: HE'S GONNA SUPLEX McMANNIS OFF THE APRON!! STRAIGHT THROUGH THAT TABLE AND INTO THE FIRES OF HELL!! [McMannis kicks his leg frantically as Kiljoy elevates him into position. Throwing him off balance, McMannis is able to alter momentum and mimmick a tornado.] OA: TORNADO DDT!!!!! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> (((( CCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKK-THUD-SSSSSSSSSS )))) "OH-MY-GOD!!!!! OH-MY-GOD!!!!!" "OH-MY-GOD!!!!! OH-MY-GOD!!!!!" "OH-MY-GOD!!!!! OH-MY-GOD!!!!!" "OH-MY-GOD!!!!! OH-MY-GOD!!!!!" [McMannis, sparing himself no risk, burns for his actions before rolling away.] OA: HIS HAIR IS ON FIRE!!! DEAR GOD, McMANNIS IS COVERED IN LIGHTER FLUID AND HIS HAIR IS BEING SINGED RIGHT OFF!!! [Kiljoy remains amidst the flakes of burning lumber, piping hot steel, and blistering coals.] CC: KILJOY'S SHOULDERS ARE BLACK!! HIS SKIN IS _PEELING!!_ HIS WOUNDS ARE _SCABBING!!_ OA: THEY'RE BEING ROASTED!! TOASTED!! AND DAMN NEAR BLED DRY!! (((( FFFFSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH ))) [White mist surrounds McMannis as he uses the extinguisher from earlier to put the fire in his hair out.] CC: This'll save him a trip to the barber! OA: It's not a joke! McMannis's hair has been burned right off! There are patches of black all over his cranium! [Nate ignores the pain and drags the near comatose Kiljoy off the coals, nearly choking from all the chemicals in the extinguisher. He dumps the champ into the ring and walks away, heading for the glass and glue.] OA: McMannis kneeling over the glass and glue! He's looking at his arms! I don't understand, Cordell! I can't read this man's mind! CC: Dammit! He's gonna-- "UUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHH!!!" OA: FOR THE LOVE OF LUNACY!! McMANNIS IS BATTERING HIS ARMS WITH GLASS AND GLUE!! [He plows his arms through the adhesive and shards, gritting his teeth as the blood begins to flow once again. He rounds the ring once again, walking tensely. This time he stands once again in front of the coals that are now a large campfire. He shuts his eyes tight, balls up his fists, and hovers his forearms over the flames.] McMANNIS: "SSSSSSSSHHHHHIT!!!!" OA: HE'S BAKING THE GLASS AND GLUE ONTO HIS ARMS!! HOLY GOD!! HOLY FREAKING GOD!! [Enough's enough. McMannis jerks his arms back and hunches over in agonizing pain before twisting back around and rolling into the ring. Kiljoy just barely pulls his broken, burnt, and lacerated body up the turnbuckles. As he turns toward the ring, he's snagged by McMannis.] OA: SIDE BEARHUG!!! McMANNIS FASTENS THOSE ARMS AROUND KILJOY'S BACK AND RIBS!! CC: THAT'S HOT GLASS CARVING INTO KILJOY'S BACK!! RAKING HIS BLISTERING SKIN!! [McMannis stands at Kiljoy's side, bent over with his ear against his chest. He slams the side of his head into Kiljoy's sternum, the same one that may have been cracked when the cage was lowered onto it. At the same time he constricts his arms around Kiljoy's waist, rubbing them from side to side like a fan belt.] KILJOY: "AAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWW FFFFFFFUCK!!! FFFFFUCK YOU!!!" ((( BOOM ))) OA: OVERHEAD BELLY TO BACK!!! [McMannis wraps both arms around Kiljoy's nearest thigh and makes the cover, pulling that leg over his own body.] ONE!!! TWO!!! TTTTHHHRRR-- __ NO!!! __ [DRAMA POP!!!!!] OA: UNBELIEVABLE!!! CC: Uh oh, Owen! Uh oh! OA: What are blithering about?? [A hum eminates from the crowd. Heads spin toward toward the aisle. Cameras follow suit.] "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" OA: SAMANTHA REASON! MATTHEW REASON'S _WIFE_ IS HERE! CC: She wasn't even present for the Alaskan Death Match, Ambrose! She had NO interest in her own husband's well being, but she's out here for Kiljoy! "SKANK-WHORE!!!!! SKANK-WHORE!!!!!" "SKANK-WHORE!!!!! SKANK-WHORE!!!!!" "SKANK-WHORE!!!!! SKANK-WHORE!!!!!" [Samantha ignores the chorus. She's devoted to the massacre at the end of the aisle.] OA: McMannis pulls Kiljoy to his feet! He's gonna-- [KICK!!!] [WHAM!!!] CC: URAKEN!!! [Kiljoy countered Head Trauma with a kick, vicious spinning backfist to the face, possibly cracking several bones in McMannis's face. Nate collapses causing Kiljoy to stumble over his shins, landing on his own back.] OA: BOTH COMPETITORS DOWN!! IT'S A TRAIN WRECK!! [Cameras flaunt a birds eye view of the carnage eliciting a huge appreciate pop. Kiljoy gingerly rolls toward McMannis, draping one rubbery arm across his stomach.] ONE!!! TWO!!! KICKOUT!! KICKOUT!! [POP!!!!!!!] OA: McMANNIS WON'T QUIT!! [Kiljoy comes slowly to his knees. The pace of this match has slowed to a crawl, but the atmosphere, the anticipation, the excitement is at a fever pitch. He peels McMannis off the canvas and backs him into a corner.] ((( SMACK ))) ((( SMACK ))) ((( SMACK ))) OA: Reverse knife-edge chops! CRACKING the already blistered skin! [McMannis cross his arms over his chest and falls to his knees. Kiljoy turns his back on him and takes a few paces before turning run and rushing back.] "UUUUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: CHARGING KNEE TO THE FACE!! ((( WHACK ))) ((( WHACK ))) ((( WHACK ))) OA: Kiljoy with those trademark, unholy muay thai kicks to the side of the skull! [McMannis's head bounces off the middle rope before he lands face down. Kiljoy drags him to the center of the ring and turns him onto his back. Leaving his victim behind, he then climbs out of the ring and grabs one of the ladders.] CC: Kiljoy slides the ladder into the ring! OA: I can only cringe when I think about what he has in mind for it! [He drops the ladder next to McMannis, then spreads him across it.] OA: McMannis draped over the ladder! Kiljoy heading for the turnbuckles! [Before climbing, Kiljoy stops and removes the razorwire from around his collarbone. He winces as it slices his flesh. Instead of doing away with it, Kiljoy wraps it around his right thigh.] CC: God, Ambrose! Kiljoy's bracing his leg with it! OA: Kiljoy armouring his leg with razorwire before driving what will likely be the final nail into McMannis's casket! [The champ climbs to the top. The end is near.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> ((((( KRUNNNNGGGGG ))))) "UUUUUUUWWWWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: NOBODY HOME!!! McMANNIS MOVED!!! [Kiljoy immediately stands straight up, purely involuntarily, grabs his thigh, falling straight back again and cracking the back of his head off the ladder.] OA: IT'S NOT OVER YET!! GOD IN HEAVEN THERE'S MORE!! [Samantha clings to the cage, exuding support for Kiljoy in her own eccentric ways.] OA: McMannis grabs the ladder! He props it in the corner! [McMannis climbs up top, behind the ladder.] OA: HERE WE GO!! TIMBERRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> (((((( KRUNNNNGGGGG-BOOM ))))) "UUUUUUUWWWWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: McMANNIS SURFS THE LADDER RIGHT ONTO HIM!!! THIS IS IT!! LIGHTS OUT!! [McMannis shoves the ladder aside and drapes himself over Kiljoy, bleeding all over him.] ONE!!! TWO!!! THREE!!!!!!! "AAAAAAAAAAAWWWWW!!!!" OA: NO!! NO!! [Samantha shrieks and clasps her hands together.] CC: What is he made of!? How tightly is that man screwed together!? OA: McMannis is unrelenting! He senses the title slipping through Kiljoy's fingers, and he's swooping in for the retrieve it! [Nate strains to pull Kiljoy off the mat. He clamps his head between his thighs.] (((( KRUNGGGG-BOOM )))) OA: UNDERHOOK POWERBOMB!!! ON THE LADDER!!! [The life is thrown from Kiljoy's body as he ricochets onto his face. McMannis goes for it all.] OA: WE GOT A NEW CHAMPION!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THR-- "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!" OA: GOD!! GOD _ALMIGHTY!!_ HOW IS THIS MAN STILL KICKING!? [McMannis comes to his knees and grazes his fingers over his now bald and smokey head, tearing away the remnants of his hair.] CC: The fire over those coals may be dwindling, but there's still a furnace inside Kiljoy! [Nate leans back on his calves and drags his thumb across the dagger tattoo on his throat.] [POP!!!!!!] OA: NATE'S SIGNALING FOR THE END!! THE WORLD TITLE IS COMING BACK TO HIM, BECAUSE THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME!! [The crowd is frothing. Samantha Reason is pacing along the fence. McMannis pulls Kiljoy to his feet and knees him in the stomach. He facelocks him and places Kiljoy's chin on his shoulder.] OA: HERE IT COMES!! ((((( ___ BOOM ___ ))))) [FINISHER POP!!!!!!!!!!] OA: __ HEAD TRAUMA!! ___ __ HEAD TRAUMA!! ___ [Kiljoy involuntarily stands straight up from the impact. McMannis nips up and looks him straight in the eyes. Kiljoy turns his head slightly, staring straight at his opponent but seeing nothing as he stumbles forward and through the ropes.] OA: THE IMPACT HAS TAKEN KILJOY TO THE OUTSIDE!! HE'S IN THE BED OF GLASS AND GLUE!! CC: But McMannis can pin him out there! Pinfalls count anywhere inside the cage! OA: And McMannis knows it! [He climbs to the top rope and steadies himself with his back to Kiljoy. One quick check over his shoulder, and leaving nothing to chance, he acts immediately.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> OA: _____ SUICIDE SPLASH!!!! _____ ((((( KKKSSSSSHHHHHHH--THUD ))))) "UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUWWWWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" CC: HE ___ MISSED!!! ___ KILJOY FRICKIN' ___ MOVED!! ___ OA: NATE LANDED FACE FIRST IN THE GLASS!!! HE'S UNCONSCIOUS!!! [Kiljoy TEARS the strand of razorwire from his hair. Strands of it still wrapped around. He slowly, and I mean SLOWLY, crawls onto the puddle of glass, glue, and McMannis. He stretches the wire out and presses it down against Nate's face while leaning on his chest with an elbow.] ONE!!! TWO!!! THREE!!!!!!!!! [???] [HEEEEEEEEEEEEYUGE POP!!!!!!!] DING! DING! DING! OA: KILJOY RETAINS THE TITLE!!! "LEGACY" PAUL KILJOY IS __STILL__ THE IWF/WOW CHAMPION OF THE _WORLD!!_ [Paul doesn't want to be anywhere near McMannis. Not anymore. With his last burst of strength he rolls into the ring and lays flat on his back, arms and legs spread.] FRANCINE: Here is your winner ... and __ STILL __ IWF/WOW WORLD CHAMPION ... ["Gave Up" by NIN w/Marilyn Manson plays.] ... "L E G A C Y" ... P A U L K I L J O Y ! ! ! ! ! [The cage is lifted as the crowd maintains a lengthy appreciation pop. Samantha immediately snatches the title off the timekeeper's table and dives into the ring. She drapes it over Kiljoy's chest and kneels at his side.] OA: Kiljoy has won! He has SURVIVED! He has the world championship! The wife of another man at his side! CC: And Nate McMannis's Goddamn number! [Medical officials immediately swarm McMannis with oxygen and bottled water. They try to assist Kiljoy, but Samantha screams at them to keep a distance.] OA: Dammit, woman! The man needs medical attention! CC: It aint nothin' the love of a good woman can't cure, Ambrose. Or a hot night of anal penetration! OA: Oh, God. You are the sickest-- [Suddenly, Matthew Reason is caught walking the aisle. The crowd murmers.] CC: HERE COMES REASON! OA: And he's staring straight at Samantha! His WIFE who was nowhere to be found in HIS time of need! What's going to happen! How does this end!? [Reason climbs in and circles Samantha as she follows him with her eyes.] [GASP!!] OA: HE JERKED THE GIRL UP BY HER HAIR! CC: Luuuuuucy! Joo got some splaining to dooooo! OA: This is not a humorous situation! He may actually hurt her this time! SECURITY! [A speck of fear actually sizzles in Samantha's eye as Reason jerks her head back. He then turns his attention to the body of Paul Kiljoy.] OA: What's going through his mind!? How is the resident psycho going to handle this!? [He releases Sam and kneels down, pulling Kiljoy off the mat with two hands around his neck. Kiljoy's legs are useless to him, but he knows what's his. His hand tightly chokes a flap of the IWF/WOW World Championship.] "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" OA: They're cheering McMannis's name here in Auburn Hills as he's being hauled away on a stretcher! But the story is in that ring! Kiljoy is being held up by Matthew Reason who ... who ... [POP!!!] CC: TAKES A _KNEE!!_ OA: HE'S KNEELING AT KILJOY'S SIDE!! I DON'T UNDERSTAND THIS!! [Samantha rushes to Kiljoy's side, wrapping his arm around her neck. Reason grips the world championship, staring intensely at his reflection. Kiljoy looks down, unable to close his mouth, unable to stop bleeding, and clinches the flap tighter.] OA: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PAUL KILJOY IS STILL THE WORLD CHAMPION, BUT IT LOOKS LIKE HE MAY HAVE STRUCK A DEAL WITH MATTHEW REASON RIGHT HERE AT IN COLD BLOOD! [Reason lifts his head and nods once to Sam. Her face lights up. She plants her lips on the crimson, busted lips of Kiljoy.] OA: WHAT A NIGHT FOR THE I-SLASH, AND WE THANK YOU FOR JOINING US, FANS!! OF ALL WE'VE SEEN TONIGHT, THE IMAGE BEFORE YOU SAYS IT _ALL!!_ [We fade on the image of Sam kissing Kiljoy's bloody mouth. Reason kneeling at his other side, infatuated with the world championship.] ______ __ __ ____ ____ __ _____ __ __ /\__ _\ /\ \ __/\ \/\ _`\ / /\ \ __/\ \/\ __`\/\ \ __/\ \ \/_/\ \/ \ \ \/\ \ \ \ \ \ \_\ / /\ \ \/\ \ \ \ \ \/\ \ \ \/\ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ _\/ / / \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \_\ \__\ \ \_/ \_\ \ \ \/ / / \ \ \_/ \_\ \ \ \_\ \ \ \_/ \_\ \ /\_____\\ `\__ ___/\ \_\/_/ \ \___ __/\ \_____\ \___ ___/ \/_____/ \/__/ /__/ \/_/_/ \/__/ /___/ \/_____/\__/ /___/ © Ozark Productions