[ The screen changes from the previous broadcast and changes to show the following: ______ __ __ ____ ____ __ _____ __ __ /\__ _\ /\ \ __/\ \/\ _`\ / /\ \ __/\ \/\ __`\/\ \ __/\ \ ™ \/_/\ \/ \ \ \/\ \ \ \ \ \_\_\ / /\ \ \/\ \ \ \ \ \/\ \ \ \/\ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ _\/ / / \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \_\ \__\ \ \_/ \_\ \ \ \/ / / \ \ \_/ \_\ \ \ \_\ \ \ \_/ \_\ \ /\_____\\ `\_______/\ \_\/_/ \ `\_______/\ \_____\ `\_______/ \/_____/ '\/__//__/ \/_/_/ '\/__//__/ \/_____/'\/__//__/ The IWF/WOW logo then begins to fade as "Guerrilla Radio" by Rage Against the Machine begins to play in the background. Highlights leading up to WrestleFest begin playing, including a showdown between the four men in the World Title bout, Eric Travers, Hightower, Elijah Flynt and Jeremy Thranton.] # Transmission third world war third round # # A decade of the weapon of sound above ground # # No shelter if you're looking for shade # # I lick shots at the brutal charade # # As the polls close like a casket # # On truth devoured # # Silent play in the shadow of power # # A spectacle monopolized # # The cameras eyes on choice disguised # [Highlights continue to be shown... this time we get a brief voice over of Eric Travers as he says "One of these four men at ringside is on my side!". We also get a few clips of the Prophet, who will be the special guest referee of the main event.] # Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil? # # Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil? # # Yes a spectacle monopolized # # They hold the reins, stole your eyes # # All the fistagons the bullets and bombs # # Who stuff the banks # # Who staff the party ranks # # More for Gore or the son of a drug lord # # None of the above fuck it cut the cord # [Next up we see Alex Cote and Chris Carter going at it. The two are brawling in the ring, as the North American Champion Trevor Redding gets into the ring and smacks them both with chairs.] # Lights out # # Guerilla Radio # # Turn that shit up # # Lights out # # Guerilla Radio # # Turn that shit up # # Lights out # # Guerilla Radio # # Turn that shit up # # Lights out # # Guerilla Radio # [Clips of the four men in the Intercontinental Title Tournament flash on the screen briefly. We see Johnny Spades taking on Elijah Flynt, and Sean Eden going at it with Cooper Concrete.] # Contact I high jacked the frequencies # # Blockin the beltway # # Move on DC # # Way past the days of bombin MCs # # Sound off Mumia guan be free # # Who gottem yo check the federal file # # All you pen devils know the trial was vile # # Army of pigs try to silence my style # # Off em all out that box its my radio dial # [Next we see Charlie Vahn pinning Richard Blair to earn his spot in the tournament, followed by Shane St. Clair beating up on Toshio.] # Lights out # # Guerilla Radio # # Turn that shit up # # Lights out # # Guerilla Radio # # Turn that shit up # # Lights out # # Guerilla Radio # # Turn that shit up # # Lights out # # Guerilla Radio # # Turn that shit up # [We continue to see several quick clips of other IWF/WOW superstars such as November, Steve West, Justin Arcola, Johnny Sledge, Steven Erickson, Gemini, Suicidal Tendency and others.] # It has to start somewhere # # It has to start sometime # # What better place than here # # What better time than now # [The clips begin to flash by even quicker now as the song begins to come to an end... more brief clips flash by... Hightower... Sean Eden... Elijah Flynt... the Prophet... Johnny Spades... and more.] # All hell cant stop us now # # All hell cant stop us now # # All hell cant stop us now # # All hell cant stop us now # # All hell cant stop us now # # All hell cant stop us now # [As the song finish up, the clips come to an end and suddenly an explosion comes on the screen as we fade into the logo for WrestleFest V...] ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= |\ /| [HIGH-FLYING GRUDGE MATCH!] | ) ( | November vs Suicidal Tendency | | _ | | | |( )| | [6-MAN WILD CARD ACTION!] | || || | Concrete/Colby/Toshio vs West/Arcola/Gemini | () () | (_______) RESTLE [IC TITLE TOURNAMENT - SEMI-FINALS!] Spades vs Eden _______ ( ____ \ [IC TITLE TOURNAMENT - SEMI-FINALS!] | ( \/ Vahn vs St. Clair | (__ | __) [SLEDGE'S IWF/WOW RETURN!] | ( Sledge vs Erickson | ) |/ EST [IWF/WOW NORTH AMERICAN TITLE MATCH!] Redding vs Cote vs Carter |\ /| | ) ( | [IC TITLE TOURNAMENT - LADDER MATCH FINALS!] | | | | Winner of Spades/Eden vs Winner of Vahn/St. Clair ( ( ) ) \ \_/ / [MAIN EVENT - IWF/WOW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE MATCH] \ / Hightower vs Travers vs Flynt vs Thranton FI \_/ E ~ SPECIAL GUEST REFEREE: The Prophet ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= [Suddenly, the WrestleFest V logo shrinks to the corner. Below it is written: March 4th, 2001 Corel Centre Ottawa, Ontario LIVE! The screen then shows over twenty thousand rapid fans in the Corel Centre. They are screaming their lungs out, waving posters, signs, flags and everything they possibly could - all in an attempt to get on television.] [After several moments of panning over the arena, fireworks above the ring begin to go off, followed by fire bursting out of the ring turnbuckles. The fans let out an even bigger pop, because they know that WrestleFest V is about to start. After a few more moments panning the arena, the voice of Jim Robson is heard...] Jim Robson: WELCOME EVERYONE... WELCOME TO WRESTLEFEST V! [The camera continues to move around the arena. A lot of Elijah Flynt signs and merchandise is scene around the arena, and it is obvious there are a lot of Flynt fans in the Corel Centre tonight. Of course, we also see fans of Hightower and Jeremy Thranton. Eventually, the camera moves to Robson and Anderson who are sitting at a desk at ringside.] Jim Robson: Welcome to one of the biggest pay-per-view events in the history of the IWF/WOW! Jack Anderson: And without a doubt, it is the biggest event in a long time. We guarantee you'll leave here shocked, surprised, amazed and most important, you won't leave unhappy. Jim Robson: Well we have eight outstanding matches for our fans here tonight. Including our main event. Jack Anderson: Ohh yeah! This one is going to be exciting... we've got our IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion Hightower defending his title in a four corners match, against four very dangerous opponents. Hightower is going to need a miracle to make it through the night. Jim Robson: You're right on the money Jack. It wouldn't surprise me to see Jeremy Thranton, Elijah Flynt or even Eric Travers walk out of the Corel Centre tonight as the new IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion. Jack Anderson: And what about the special guest referee? The Prophet? Who knows what this guy is up to! Since he's come back it looks like he's been a changed man. He's been shaking the fans hands, kissing up to them... if you ask me, something isn't right! This isn't the Prophet I know and love. Jim Robson: Well, if you remember, after weeks of claiming this match was going to be four on one, last week Eric Travers did mention that someone in this match would turn to even out the odd a bit. Jack Anderson: That's right, and the folks on the Internet have been saying it's going to be the Prophet! Myself, I have no clue. But wouldn't it be great to see the Prophet and Eric Travers on the same team again? Jim Robson: Well, maybe so. But need I remind you Jack, many of the fans on the internet have also been saying that Travers is full of it, and that no one is actually going to turn in the match. Jack Anderson: Pfft... what do they know? Jim Robson: You know what else I'm really looking forward to here tonight? The Intercontinental Title Tournament. Four young wrestlers were be gearing up and trying to take IWF/WOW gold. We've got two semi-final matches, and the winner of those will lock up later tonight in a ladder match to fight it out for the Intercontinental Title itself. Jack Anderson: That's right, and in one semi-final we've got one of my favorite wrestlers, Johnny Spades, taking on Sean Eden. Now we all know Spades has beat Eden before, and I think he's going to be able to do it once again tonight. Jim Robson: You could be right, but if he does win he has to worry about facing his Franchise Player stable mate, Shane St. Clair, because St. Clair takes on Charlie Vahn in the other semi-finals. Jack Anderson: Well, it'd be an interesting match, and I'm sure Spades and St. Clair would put on an amazing match. Jim Robson: _IF_ St. Clair can beat Vahn. Jack Anderson: I'm sure he will. The Franchise Players are simply incredible, and they are quickly setting the IWF/WOW on fire. Jim Robson: How about the other title match tonight? We've got the North American title on the line in a triple threat match. Jack Anderson: Trevor Redding would normally be hard pressed to keep his title against his two opponents... but against Chris Carter and "The Hamster" Alex Cote, I think he'll have an easy time at it. Jim Robson: I wouldn't say that Jack. Cote has been on a roll here in the IWF/WOW, spending his first two months undefeated until last week when Carter squeaked out a win against him. Cote and Carter are two very worthy challengers. Jack Anderson: Maybe in you're own mind, but I don't think so. Redding is possibly one of the greatest North American champions in IWF/WOW history. Jim Robson: You're right there, but I think either Cote or Carter could make a pretty strong champion as well. I guess we'll just have to wait until later tonight to find out what goes down. Jack Anderson: True. So, yeah, WrestleFest V will be an exciting night... but one match I'm _not_ looking forward to is Steven Erickson taking on Johnny Sledge... Jim Robson: Huh? Why not? Jack Anderson: Because it marks the return of Sledge to the IWF/WOW. I can't stand this guy... even worse; I can't stand how the fans love him so much. They eat him up! Jim Robson: That's right, they do, and for good reason. He's a top-notch wrestler, and he's back to claim his spot in the IWF/WOW, and I wish him luck. Jack Anderson: He'll need it. I'm hoping Erickson will put an end to his little comeback attempt. Jim Robson: Well we've also got a six man wild card match here as Cooper Concrete, Magnus Colby and Toshio team up on one side, while West, Arcola and Gemini are on the other. Jack Anderson: I'm sure that will be great, but the one I am looking forward to is the high-flying grudge match between November and Suicidal Tendency. These two men will go out there and kill each other if they have too... Jim Robson: You're right about that. I don't think there will be a fan not on their feet for this match, as these two will tear the house down. Jack Anderson: What a night this is going to be. Jim Robson: Without a doubt, WrestleFest V will be one of the best IWF/WOW events of all time. Right now, lets hear from Suicidal Tendency. ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= [The scene opens to a locker room. Seated on a chair is Suicidal Tendency; Mayhem has just ended, and he still is wearing his wrestling gear. He looks up at the camera, his purple and red streaked bangs hanging in his eyes, sweat filled. He pushes them back, and his angry, scornful eyes stare into the lens of the camera.] Suicidal Tendency: What the [BLEEP] was that?! [He spits on the ground.] Suicidal Tendency: Alright... so there I am, kicking the [BLEEP] out of St. Clair, who can't even get my [BLEEP]in' name right, and I'm about to pin the little piece of [BLEEP], when the referee, Kenneth Halston... the Commissioner of this poorly-run hellhole screws me. I might as well have bent over a table and let the country vote on it, 'cause I was big fat screwed from the get-go. [He shakes his head, reaching down and picking up his walking cane. He holds it up to the camera, extending his head upwards and revealing the tattoo across his throat: a dagger.] Suicidal Tendency: I swear to God, Halston, this ain't over... sometime soon, this cane's gonna get lodged directly, and I mean _directly_ up your ass. And as far as my match goes at Wrestlefest... [He shakes his head and smiles.] Suicidal Tendency: It's not a secret that I'm a pretty [BLEEP]ed up guy. My mom was a whore over in the Orient and my dad shot her ass before I could know about it. That about sums up the smallest of my problems... I've got a guy named November at this pay per view, and he was spouting something a few weeks ago about being better than I am, and he came out a few weeks ago and tried to show me up in our tag team match... let me tell you what happened the last time someone tried showing me up, November. [He leans into the camera.] Suicidal Tendency: I put my foot down right on his knee, watched the bone break right through his skin, listened to that gruesome, horrible sound of his flesh ripping apart... [He smiles.] Suicidal Tendency: ... and smiled. 'Cause I loved each bit of it. I got kicked out of Japan for it, and I can't wrestle in that country again. The U.S. is a lot more lenient about things like that, though, November... I could pass it off as a mistake, or an accident. If I was to rip the skin off of your body after I maim you this Sunday, I'd be allowed to keep doing it... and I'm in a bad mood, tough guy. [He leans back, the smile gone from his place.] Suicidal Tendency: I've been here for almost two months... and I'm sick of getting screwed... it stops here. Wrestlefest is gonna be violent... and I'm gonna make November understand just what it feels like to go through the pain I've been through. [He smacks the cane across the cement.] Suicidal Tendency: So you take this interview, and you put it on that poorly-produced show of yours... I'll watch my interview on TV, and I'll watch the rest of them... but it ain't gonna matter none... it's time to put up and shut up... November's gonna get it, and he's gonna get it good... come Wrestlefest... November... your number's up, and this ain't a line for a hoagie. [He gets up.] Suicidal Tendency: This ain't personal, November. I'm still gonna beat your ass like it was, though. You bring your ass, and I'll make sure to bring my [BLEEP]kickers. See ya at the pay per view, bitch. [He walks away. Fade to black.] ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= THE ACTION BEGINS IN PART 2 WITH NOVEMBER TAKING ON SUICIDAL TENDENCY! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= Jim Robson: Okay, fans. Up next, we have an exhilarating match between two high flying superstars coming up. November and Suicidal Tendency are going to clash one-on-one in that very ring! Jack Anderson: And Novy is going to be road kill when the smoke clears, I guaran-damn-tee it. S.T. is one crazy S.O.B. He takes risks that'd make Robbie Knievel wet his pants. Novy's no match for what he can pull off. Jim Robson: Let's head to the ring to Francine for the opening introductions of what'll most definitely be a CLASSIC encounter. __ __ ___ ____ / / /\ \ \/ __\ ___| -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= \ \/ \/ / _\ |___ \ HIGH-FLYING GRUDGE MATCH \ /\ / / ___) | November vs Suicidal Tendency \/ \/\/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= ----------------------> WRITER: Rob Riemensnyder <----------------------- [The opening chords to (hEd)p.e.'s "Killing Time" blast over the PA, and the lights in the Corel Centre 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 nineteen pounds... [As the smoke dissipates, the form of a man carrying a walking cane is revealed where the cloud was. The man is Suicidal Tendency.] # Baby, I'm a survivor! # # Baby, I'm on fire! # # Baby I'm about to creep up inside ya'! # [The lyrics to "Killing Time" continue, and Suicidal Tendency begins walking to the ring. A spotlight focuses on him, making no hesitations in his slow gait. His ear-length, dark brown hair is parted down the center, with the bangs hanging in his face. The purple and red streaks in the wet hair give him a cold, calculating look.] FRANCINE: Ladies and gentlemen... here is... SUICIDAL... TENDENCY!!! [The crowd responds to the introduction with a huge heel pop, as Suicidal Tendency steps in between the top and middle ropes into the ring. He holds the walking cane in his left hand to his neck, drawing attention to the tattoo of a dagger that runs across his throat... Suicidal Tendency runs the cane along the dagger, then points it at each of his wrists displaying matching daggers on each. As the lights turn on, the audience now sees his ring attire, consisting of red elbow pads, purple wrist tape, black pant-length wrestling tights, and black boots. The tights have red and purple spiraling designs on them. He places the cane in the corner of the ring, and as he bends down, his well-defined body stretches, but simply stands erect once again, revealing the same scowl on his face that has been there since he entered the arena. The music fades out...] Jim Robson: Suicidal Tendency is one of the most accomplished high flyers to grace a ring ANYWHERE. It'll be interesting to see how he fares in the ring against the likes of November, who's extremely talented in his own right. Jack Anderson: Bah! Good ol' S.T. will mop the mat with Novy, no doubt about it. He's taken aerial wrestling to a new level. That poor fool is no match for him. Jim Robson: I wouldn't underestimate November if I were you. He may surprise you. Jack Anderson: Yeah... and Carl Lumski may miss a rerun of "Diff'rent Strokes" in order to do a few sit-ups... and Hightower may enter into rehab... and--- Jim Robson: Okay okay! I get the point, Jack. Jack Anderson: The fat lady is in the back, tuning up. It'll only be a matter of minutes before she's out there, singing her chunky little heart out as Novy gets carted out of the arena on a stretcher. ["Expendable Youth" by Slayer hits over the arena's Pa system to a big pop...] Jim Robson: Speaking of November, here he comes. Jack Anderson: Like a retarded lamb cheerfully walking into a slaughterhouse... Jim Robson: Oh shut up! FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Seattle, Washington standing five feet eleven inches and weighing two hundred and twenty pounds, here is ... NOVEMMMBEERRRRRRRRRRRRR!!! [The arena lights dim as blue strobe lights flash through the arena. Grey, acrid smoke fills the entrance way and obscuring all vision. From this haze emerges November, a young raven haired, somewhat pale man...] Jim Robson: November looks determined. I'm sure he's going to take whatever risks he needs to in order to defeat Suicidal Tendency tonight. He knows what a high profile win like that could do for him. It'll put him in high standing with the championship committee immediately. Jack Anderson: "November" and "Champion" are two words that should never be used in the same sentence. Now, "November" and "7-11 employee"... that's a totally different story. I'm sure Novy will have a nice, long career serving up Slushies after tonight. Jim Robson: November on his way to the ring... oh my God! What's this? The Franchise Players have hopped the guardrail and attacked November! Jack Anderson: Ha ha! Arcola, Spades, and St. Clair are beating the holy hell out of him! Novy didn't even see it coming! I love it! Jim Robson: All three Franchise Players are working over November's knee. Can't we get someone out here to stop this? I can't believe the referee isn't even doing anything! Jack Anderson: Stop your complaining! This is sports entertainment at its finest. Three of the I/W's top superstars are wishing Novy luck on his match with Suicidal Tendency. Jim Robson: Wishing him luck, my foot. They're destroying his knee. Damnit! The referee should be disqualifying Suicidal Tendency! Jack Anderson: The match hasn't even started yet. The referee has no reason to disqualify him. The bell hasn't even rung... but Novy sure is getting HIS bell rung! HA HA HA! Jim Robson: Here comes security... and Commissioner Halston! They chase the Players away from November! Jack Anderson: Party poopers! Jim Robson: The Franchise Players are retreating to the back! But I don't think that'll be the last we see of them tonight. Jack Anderson: Did you hear that, Jimmy? Did you hear what Johnny Spades said before they left? Spades just said that tonight will be their night. I don't doubt it. I see the Franchise Players causing all sorts of damage tonight. Gotta love them! They keep things interesting! Jim Robson: They should be fined and suspended for what they just did. It looks like they robbed us all from seeing what could've been the match of the night. Officials are tending to November. He looks like he's hurt badly. Jack Anderson: Of course he is! The Franchise Players kicked the crap out of his knee! I wouldn't be surprised if his knee is shot now. Suicidal Tendency has won this one without even breaking a sweat! Way to go, S.T.! HA HA! Jim Robson: I'm afraid that may be true. It looks like Halston and the other officials are going to escort November to the back. What a shame. Despite the match not happening, the fans are showing their support for November. Listen to that "Novy! Novy!" chant, Jack! Jack Anderson: It shows that these dolts have no taste whatsoever. They should just face it. Novy is a lame duck. Jim Robson: Halston and the officials have helped November up and are taking him to the back. Wait a second. What the hell? November is turning around! He's pushed the officials away! He's heading to the ring! I can't believe it! Jack Anderson: What an idiot! His knee is banged up! He can't compete! Jim Robson: I don't think November knows the meaning of the word "quit". He slides into the ring and the referee signals for the bell! This match is going to happen after all! Incredible! Jack Anderson: This is the biggest mistake Novy could ever make. I can't believe this goof. His knee is banged up. We don't even know how badly it's injured. This unwise decision could very well lead to the end of his career. Jim Robson: You're talking out of your backside, Jack. November isn't going anywhere anytime soon. He's here to stay! Jack Anderson: Bah. Jim Robson: This one is underway, folks! Both men are circling the ring. They lock up! November whips Suicidal Tendency into the ropes. S.T. with a leapfrog! November goes down and S.T. leaps over him. Suicidal Tendency returns with a dropkick to November who was just getting up! Jack Anderson: Excellent move by S.T.! Novy is back to his feet! S.T. charges with a clothesline but Novy ducks it. Damn! Jim Robson: November spins S.T. around and nails a clothesline of his own. Watts gets right back up but is brought right back down with a dropkick. Suicidal Tendency rolls out of the ring! Jack Anderson: That's a VERY smart thing to do! Jim Robson: S.T. needs to regroup from that flurry of moves. I don't think he expected November to have that much life in him. Suicidal Tendency is back in! They lock up... oh no! S.T. clips November in the knee! Jack Anderson: It serves Novy right for entering into a match with such a serious injury. Jim Robson: S.T. picks November up off the mat and whips him into the ropes. He drops November with a spinning heel kick... and he follows that up by dropping an elbow. Suicidal Tendency covers him! 1...... 2.... Jack Anderson: Novy kicks out from that one, but the count was slow! Jim Robson: S.T. gets up and unloads on November with a series of kicks to the knee. Obviously, he's working over the weakest spot of November's body. One has to wonder what would be going on right now if the Franchise Players didn't show up. We may be seeing a totally different contest right now. Jack Anderson: Wishful thinking won't get you anywhere, Jimmy. The only thing that matters is the here and now... and S.T. is demolishing Novy's knee... HERE AND NOW! HA HA HA! Jim Robson: You are a very sad man, Jack. Jack Anderson: S.T. drags Novy to the center of the ring! HE LOCKS ON A KNEELOCK SUBMISSION! Here we go! It's over! Jim Robson: The referee is checking... and November isn't tapping out! Good Lord! I can't believe it! A lesser man would've called it quits by now. Jack Anderson: You mean a SMARTER man, Jimmy. The longer Nov stays in this match, the dumber he is. He's just risking his career and his well being... for what? A match? Come on. That's foolish. Jim Robson: November knows that a lot of these people came here to see him give his all. Judging by the chants that are circulating throughout the arena right now, I think he was right. Jack Anderson: The fans can chant all they want. They can chant for the second coming, for all I care! It's not going to do Novy any good. He's about five seconds away from tapping out like the gimped out loser that he is. Jim Robson: You couldn't be more wrong, Jack. November is slowly easing his way over to the ropes! He still has a lot of fight in him! S.T. is trying to keep him situated in the center of the ring but it isn't working! He makes it to the ropes! The referee is ordering Suicidal Tendency to break the hold! Jack Anderson: The damage has already been done. Novy's knee was already hurt. That kneelock submission hold didn't help matters. Jim Robson: Suicidal Tendency wastes no time in working over November some more! He drags November up and executes a lightning fast snap suplex. Jack Anderson: S.T. runs to the outside and climbs the ropes. He waits for Novy to get up. Novy turns around... Suicidal Tendency flies... SWEET JESUS ON A CRACKER! NOVEMBER JUST NAILED S.T. WITH A DROPKICK TO THE MIDSECTION! HOW THE HELL DID HE DO THAT? Jim Robson: Even in his injured state, November was able to counter Suicidal Tendency's high flying maneuver! You have to admire November for his intestinal fortitude. Jack Anderson: Yeah yeah yeah. It got him the temporary advantage... but look at him now. The dropkick really didn't help his knee situation. He's really favoring that right knee. Jim Robson: But he still gets up. I can't believe it! November grabs S.T. and pulls him up off the mat. November picks him up and SLAMS him down with a backbreaker! November goes to the top... jumps... FROG SPLASH! He hooks the leg! 1..... 2.... Jack Anderson: Thank God! S.T. got his shoulder up just in time! That was too close. Novy picks Tendency up... and lifts him up for a belly to back suplex! Jim Robson: No! Suicidal Tendency flipped over November! He drops November down with an inverted DDT out of nowhere! Jack Anderson: My boy with the cover! 1.... 2.... thre.. NO! Jim Robson: November just got out of that one in the nick of time! Jack Anderson: I thought he was a goner. What the hell does S.T. have to do to finish this guy off? Jim Robson: Despite the knee injury, November keeps on rising to the occasion. I really don't know what Suicidal Tendency has to do to put him down for good. I don't even know if ANYONE can put November down at this point. He's really wowing me. Jack Anderson: Yeah, it's all well and good that November has so much spunk... but it's going to run out eventually. No man can withstand that much punishment. For crying out loud, he's only human. Jim Robson: Suicidal Tendency lifts November up to his feet. He whips him hard into the corner... and charges! NO! November gets his foot up! Styx gets his foot up. November gets on the second rope! FLYING BULLDOG ON S.T.!! November isn't done yet, either! Jack Anderson: Oh damn. Jim Robson: He grabs S.T. and lifts him up! Piledriver in the center of the ring! That looked nasty! Now November is ascending to the top! He's signaling for November Reign! If he gets this... wait... his knee gave in! November's knee has given in! Jack Anderson: I told you so! Jim Robson: November is hurt... and straddling the top turnbuckle. He tries to ease himself off but S.T. is up. Suicidal Tendency hits him with a forearm to the face and then he climbs up! SUICIDAL TENDENCY WITH A A SUPERPLEX!!! Jack Anderson: YES! Jim Robson: November is laid out in the middle of the ring. He's not moving. Jack Anderson: S.T. saw an opening... where Novy's weakness had the best of him... and he seized it. Now he's climbing to the top! Oh boy! Could this be it? Could he be going for the kill? Jim Robson: It looks that way to me. He's ascending to the top backwards. This could only mean... Jack Anderson: SUICIDAL SPLASH!!! HE GOT IT!!! Jim Robson: S.T. covers November... hooks the leg! 1.... 2.... 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SUICIDAL TENDENCY GETS THE DUKE! Jack Anderson: I told you this would happen. November was at a disadvantage from the word "Go". He should've never stayed in the match after the Franchise Players worked him over. Jim Robson: Give November credit where credit is due. He put forth a valiant effort tonight. Jack Anderson: Yeah yeah. But the bottom line is... SUICIDAL TENDENCY WINS! WOOHOO! I tell ya, that kid is going places. Mark my words. ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= 6-MAN TAG ACTION COMING UP! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= [Suddenly, the camera switches backstage to the parking garage. It appears that no one is there, until out of no where a limousine pulls into the garage.] Jim Robson: Huh? Who is just getting here? The show has already started! Jack Anderson: Whoever it is, they're going to be in trouble. Unlike some places, doesn't the IWF/WOW have a late policy? [Out from the car steps IWF/WOW Hall of Famer Desert Scorpion. The fans, who are watching on the Giga-Tron, pop big time for him.] Jim Robson: WHAT!?! Jack Anderson: Wow! Desert Scorpion is here. What the hell is he doing here? He retired years ago. Jim Robson: I'm not quiet sure. Jack Anderson: What else can go wrong? Jim Robson: Well, for most of us, this is an exciting moment! Desert Scorpion is back inside an IWF/WOW arena. Now it's time for our Six Man Wild Card Match. Jack Anderson: What is Kenneth Halston thinking when he came up with this match? Jim Robson: I think it's a great idea. This gives people a chance where they might not have had one before. Jack Anderson: *COUGH* Kiss Ass. *COUGH* Jim Robson: What? Jack Anderson: Oh, nothing... Jim Robson: Let's go to the ring for this six man match-up... __ __ ___ ____ / / /\ \ \/ __\ ___| -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= \ \/ \/ / _\ |___ \ 6-MAN WILD CARD ACTION \ /\ / / ___) | Concrete/Colby/Toshio vs West/Arcola/Gemini \/ \/\/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= ----------------------> WRITER: John Orlandella <------------------------ [The picture cuts to the ring and already standing there is Toshio.] FRANCINE: In the ring right now... Toshio!!! Jack Anderson: How the hell did he get in there? Jim Robson: What are you asking me for? ["Another One Bites The Dust " by QUEEN is played over the PA system and the crowd cheers wildly!] FRAINCE: About to enter the ring, standing 6 foot 6 inches and weighing 285 lbs., from Boston, Massachusetts- he's led to the ring by his manager, Kelly James...here is The Man With The Plan.... COOPER CONCRETE!!!!!!! [The sensuous Kelly James makes her way through the curtains, and is followed by the Man With The Plan, Cooper Concrete...The crowd erupts as the IWFWOW Superstar slaps hands with the fans as the duo make their way down the aisle. On the JumboTron are snipets of Coop's IWFWOW career facing other Superstars such as AJ Stanson, Professor Steve West, the AoD, Eric Travers, Pain Inc, and Modern Apocalypse. In the ring, spotlights of COOP 3:B shine down on the mat. Cooper is wearing bluejeans, workboots, workgloves, a black "COOP 3:B" T-shirt, and his insignia orange hardhat and shades. As Cooper gets up on the apron, he holds the ropes open for Kelly James, and the twosome flash the 3:B signal to the fans...(3 fingers raised in the air) and the fans respond in a big way. Kelly then blows a kiss to the crowd and the Man With The Plan focuses on the match.] Jim Robson: He looks ready to tear the house down. Jack Anderson: He looks ready to build my porch. FRANCINE: And their partner... ["Enter Sandman" by Mettalica blares over the PA as the crowd comes to it's feet letting out a large boo as they do so.] FRANCINE: He stands 6'6" and weighs in at 275 pounds. He hails from Chicago, Illinois, he is a TWO TIME IWF/WOW TAG TEAM CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!!! HALL OF FAMER MAGNUS COLBY!!! [The crowd boos at the mention of one of the most despised men in the organization today. The noise level kicks up a notch as Magnus steps out from behind the curtains. Magnus wears black tights. Magnus has his hair freshly shaved for the matchup, and has his wrists taped. He wears a pad on his right elbow. Slowly, Magnus begins to make his way out to ringside, coolly staring ahead as he walks down the aisle, annoying the boos and the many fans trying to get his attention. As Magnus reaches the ringside area, he climbs the stairs up to the ring apron. He steps through the ropes, and gets himself prepared for the match ahead.] Jack Anderson: I can't believe Colby has to lower himself to be on a team with these other two. Jim Robson: Colby should be glad he's even in this match! Jack Anderson: What, are you jealous of the Hall of Famer? Jim Robson: Hall of Famer... HA!!! FRANCINE: And their opponents... ["Ride of the Valkyries" by Wagner begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd cheers.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Rochester, NY, standing 6 feet 3 inches and weighing 252 pounds, here is ... JUSTIN ARCOLA!!!!! [Justin Arcola steps out from behind the curtain and pauses at the entranceway, raising a clenched fist high above his head. He is clad in simple loose-fitting blue jeans held up by a leather belt and black combat boots. He has an old scar just right of center on his chest. He waits for the brass section of the orchestra to kick in and begins a slow and methodical march to the ring, occasionally glancing left or right to flash a quick smile to a fan. He slides into the ring under the bottom rope and stands on the second turnbuckle, raising his arms above his head and taking in the applause of the crowd.] Jack Anderson: Now this guy is lucky to be in this match. Jim Robson: What's your reason for saying that? Jack Anderson: Because guys that look like that are more often found in a Welfare Line instead of a Wrestling Ring. FRANCINE: And his partner... ["25 OR 6 TO 4" by CHICAGO begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd cheers and rise to their feet to welcome one of the IWF/WOW's legendary competitors.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from The University of Higher Education standing 6 feet 2 inches and weighing 236 1/4 pounds, a true IWF/WOW legend. He is the Federation's First GRAND SLAM CHAMPION holdiing the US National, North American, Intercontinental and World Heavyweight Championship. He is.... "PROFESSOR" STEVE WEST!!!!! [The Professor comes through the curtain and walks down the aisle, as machine gun style pyro follows him to the ring. Music blaring in the background, the Professor enters the ring area and acknowledges all the fans, shaking hands and begins conversing with some "smart fans" in the crowd. The Professor comes to the ring with a warm up jacket, an embroidered Professor towel, his solid coloured classic wrestling gear with either "Professor", "Grand Slam Champion" or "Simply The Finest" on the back of the tights. The spotlight follows him towards the ring.] Jack Anderson: This absolutely amazes me. An utter talent like Steve West is being wasted tonight. Jim Robson: If he wasn't in this match, he might not have even worked at all tonight. Jack Anderson: He would have broken more of a sweat sitting at home than having to be in this match. FRANCINE: And finally... ["O Fortuna" from "Carmina Burana" begins to play as the lights dim slightly. The crowd hushes in anticipation.] ##O Fortuna , velut luna, statu variabilis (O Fortune, like the moon you are changeable) [A figure appears in the shadow and begins to walk towards the ring.] ##semper crescis, aut decrescis, vita detestablis ##nunc obdurat, et tunc curat, ludo mentis aciem (Ever waxing and waning; hateful life first oppresses and then sootes as fancy takes it) ##egestatem, potestatem dissolvit ut glaciem (poverty and power, it melts them like ice) ##Sors immanis, et inanis, rot tu volubilis (Fate ? monstrous and empty, you whirling wheel) ##status malus, vana salus, semper dissolubilis (You are malevolent, well-being is in vain and always fades to nothing) ##obumbrata, et velata, michi quoque niteris (shadowed and veiled, you plague me too) ##nunc per ludum, dorsum nudum, fero tui sceleris (Now through the game, I bring my bare back to your villainy) [The figure reaches the ring. The lights come on and a small, quick burst of pyrotechics leap up just as the music explodes in volume and intensity. ] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Atlanta, GA standing 6 feet tall and weighing 200 pounds, here is "GEMINI!!" [The crowd cheers as "Gemini" is introduced. "Gemini" wears gray pants with his name embroidered down the right leg, and his feet are bare. On his shoulder is a tattoo of the yin yang, and about his neck on a chain, lies the same symbol.] ##Sors salutis, et virtutis, michi nunc contraria (Fate is against me, in health, and virtue) ##est affectus, et defectus, semperin angaria (Driven on and weighted down, always enslaved) ##Hac in hora, sine mora, corde pulsum tangite (So at this hour, without delay, pluck the vibrating strings) ##quod per sortem, sternit fortem, mecum omnes plangite! (Since Fate strikes down the string man, everyone weep with me!) [At the finale of the song, he bows to the crowd, removes the chain about his neck, and prepares for battle.] Jack Anderson: I heard he wanted to come out to the theme song of "The Dukes of Hazzard" but the IWF/WOW Officials told him he couldn't. Jim Robson: You're full of crap. Jack Anderson: I swear it's the truth. [Cooper signals to Colby and Toshio that he is going to start this match. Toshio nods in approval and steps out, and Colby seemingly doesn't care and exits the ring.] Jim Robson: Cooper Concrete is going to start for his team... [Cooper signals that he wants to get his hands on West, but West looks like he doesn't want a piece of Cooper, so he steps out of the ring. That leaves Arcola and Gemini to decide which is going to start. After a little talking, Arcola starts and Gemini leaves to the apron.] Jack Anderson: Oh great! Arcola is going to screw this match up before it even gets going! [West begins hollering at Arcola not to screw up, and Arcola turns around and gives him a dirty work. Cooper, seeing Arcola turning his attention away, charges full blast into the corner and crushes the back of Arcola's head with a sickening clothesline. The crowd gives a big set of ooh's and aah's at the site of that clothesline.] Jim Robson: What a wicked clothesline! Jack Anderson: I told you this match is over before it starts. [Cooper pulls Arcola up to his feet and whips him into the ropes. Cooper bounces off the opposite side of the ropes and comes charging at the bouncing-back, Arcola. Cooper gets a decent leap, and connects with a nice shoulder block which sends Arcola crashing to the mat. Cooper hops right back up and instantly drops a knee to the forehead of Arcola.] Jim Robson: Cooper is all offense right now. [Cooper points to West and starts yelling something which is unclear, but obviously not meant to be something nice.] Jim Robson: Cooper is calling Steve West out. Jack Anderson: He doesn't want a piece of West. Jim Robson: Then way is he calling him out? Jack Anderson: Because he knows he won't have to face him. [Cooper drags Arcola to his feet and whips him into the ropes. When he comes back in, Cooper catches him with a vicious power slam. He then hooks the leg and keeps on for the pin.] Jim Robson: The ref slides in for the pin... one... two... thrrrrr... Kick out by Arcola!!! Jack Anderson: He's lucky he kicked out! West would have been mad if he had lost and not been able to get in the ring. [Cooper gets up and goes over and tags in Colby. Colby, still looking like he doesn't want to be here, picks up Arcola and puts him in an armbar. He wrenches the arm a couple of times and goes over and tags Toshio in.] Jim Robson: What a series of moves by Colby! If he didn't want to be in there he shouldn't have tagged in. Jack Anderson: That's just because Arcola is not worth his time. [Toshio goes and puts Arcola in a head lock. Arcola gets up to his feet completely, and locks his arms around Toshio's waist. He sets his legs and then lifts and brings Toshio over on the back of his head with a belly to back suplex. Toshio folds over like and accordion. The crowd roars with cheers when Arcola hits this move.] Jim Robson: What a move!!! Jack Anderson: He should just tag in West before he ruins this match some more. [Arcola crawls over to his corner and goes to tag in West. West simply pulls his hand back and he can't make the tag.] Jim Robson: I cannot believe that! What kind of man is that who won't help out his partner. Friend or foe, he should be out to win. [Toshio makes a tag to Cooper and he flies across the ring and lands a double axehandle before Arcola can make the tag to Gemini. Cooper drags Arcola back to the middle of the ring and picks him up. He then sets up Arcola, and drops him with a piledriver.] Jim Robson: It seems like Cooper is out to prove a point. He makes the cover on Arcola... one... two... thrrrrr... Arcola kicks out!!! [Cooper looks totally pissed about this. Just as Arcola gets to his hands and knees, Cooper puts an absolutely sick boot to the side of Arcola's head. Arcola crashes back to the mat, and Cooper looks like he wants to destroy Arcola some more. Cooper picks Arcola up and goes for a body slam, but Arcola leaps over the shoulder of Cooper and hooks and connects with a releasing German suplex.] Jim Robson: What a reversal by Arcola. [Arcola slowly gets to his feet, but Cooper comes up at the same time. Cooper runs at Arcola, but Arcola sees this and catches him with a Tornado DDT. Arcola leaps up and lunges to tag in Gemini, but West connects with a quick punch to the jaw, which sends him off the apron. Arcola goes to tag in Gemini but he's not there. Arcola comes to his feet, and West tags himself in... by slapping Arcola in the face!] Jim Robson: What a jerk! Jack Anderson: Arcola is lucky West even tagged him in. [West charges at Cooper just as he gets to his knees. West lunges over the back of Cooper and connects with a dive bomb cradle. He rolls Cooper over and hooks the cradle in tight.] Jim Robson: Nice cradle into a pin... one... two... thrrr.... NO!!! Cooper kicks out just before three! Jack Anderson: What a slow count by the ref. [West takes a step back and Cooper gets to his feet. West, not wanting a part of Cooper, rushes to his corner and tags in Gemini... by slapping him in the face as well!] Jim Robson: That is just disgraceful. [Cooper stops short, but it's too late. Gemini lands a stiff front kick to the chest of Cooper which sends him to the mat. Gemini waits for Cooper to get to his feet, and when he does, Gemini locks on the Cross Face Chickenwing. Before he can drop to the mat, though, Cooper makes it to the ropes and Gemini is forced to break the hold.] Jim Robson: Cooper had no choice but to go to the ropes. Jack Anderson: He's a wimp. [Gemini really doesn't waste any time and hits a series of front kicks to the chest and back of Cooper, then a kick to the back of the knee that sends Cooper to his knees. Gemini then goes for a front kick to the face, but Cooper catches his leg and hits a dragon screw leg whip.] Jim Robson: What an act of desperation from Cooper! [Cooper doesn't go after Gemini, instead he lunges at his corner and makes the tag to Colby. The crowd boos as Colby takes his time getting in the ring. He picks Gemini and delivers a body slam. Colby then lays on Gemini, making a cover.] Jim Robson: What and arrogant cover by Colby... one... two... thrrr... REVERSAL!!! Gemini with a crucifix pinning attempt... one... two... thrrrrrr... Magnus Colby just kicks out!!! [Colby, goes in an absolute rage and gets up and drops a knee to the back of the head of Gemini. He then picks Gemini up and DDT's him to the mat.] Jim Robson: That really lit a fire under Colby's ass. Jack Anderson: Gemini's in trouble now. [Colby picks up Gemini and whips him into the corner. Colby comes charging in after him. But all Colby is met with is a spinning roundhouse kick by Gemini. Gemini doesn't stay up, though, and falls to the mat as well. Both men crawl to their corners; Colby tags in Cooper, while Gemini tags in West.] Jim Robson: Cooper will finally get his hands on West! Jack Anderson: Cooper doesn't stand a chance. [Colby and Gemini have rolled to the floor on their respective sides of the ring. West rushes in just as the tag is made to Cooper. The crowd goes nuts as Cooper comes in like a house of fire and takes it to West, with punch after punch. Every time he goes down the crowd's cheers get louder. West is now trying to get to his corner, but once he motions toward it, Arcola jumps off the ring apron with a big smile on his face.] Jack Anderson: That is an utter acter of disrespect. Jim Robson: But what about when West did it earlier? Jack Anderson: That was different, he was making a strategic move. Jim Robson: That makes absolutely no sense. Jack Anderson: As it should. [Cooper grabs West by the hair and pulls him to his feet. West tries to get a punch in but it's blocked and responded with a punch from Cooper. This sends West to his back, but he gets right to his knees and starts begging off, Cooper.] Jim Robson: Cooper is like a house of fire right now, and West wants no part of it! [Cooper laughs at the begging and lets his guard down for a second. This is more than enough for West, because he hits Cooper with a uppercut to the family jewels. Cooper crumples to the mat.] Jim Robson: I can't believe West would stoop to using a low blow. Jack Anderson: I didn't see anything. Jim Robson: Are you serious?! Jack Anderson: My monitor must be out. [West is now to his feet and he picks up Cooper and scoops him up and connects with Brainbuster. Also just at this time, Richard James is seen sprinting down the aisle toward the ring. West doesn't see this and calls for his STF finisher.] Jack Anderson: It's over now! Once he hooks on his finisher, Simply the Finest, it'll be all over. Jim Robson: But Richard James is coming down to the ring. [West hooks the step over toe hold of the STF, but before he could lock the head James jumps up onto the ring apron. West releases the hold and gets in James' face.] Jim Robson: What a mistake by West. He would have had this match won. [This brief distraction by James has given Cooper enough time to get back to his feet. He grabs West by the arm, and turns him around and drops him to the mat with a short clothesline. Cooper doesn't waste any time and he hooks in the Boston Back Breaker. At the same time Colby gets to his feet and pulls James from the ring apron, and those two start brawling at ringside.] Jim Robson: The Boston Back Breaker!!! Will West be able to escape this move?! [Out of nowhere Gemini jumps up onto the ring apron and hits a springboard super kick onto Cooper, absolutely knocking him senseless.] Jim Robson: What a super kick!!! Jack Anderson: I think he killed him with that!!! [The momentum of the kick sends Cooper into his corner and Toshio, just standing there, tags himself in, as Cooper doesn't look to awake to be able to tag anybody. Toshio goes right at Gemini and hits him with a spinning heel kick which sends him over the top rope and back to the floor.] Jim Robson: Toshio is nice and fresh now, West is in a lot of trouble if he can't get to his corner fast enough. [In the time Toshio tagged in and knocked Gemini out of the ring, West has been crawling to his corner. Once West gets there Arcola won't tag in. He climbs his way up to his feet, and looks face to face with Arcola. Arcola then slaps West in the face, tagging himself in. The crowd explodes with that move.] Jim Robson: There's some payback from Arcola for earlier! Jack Anderson: What a jerk. [Toshio then dropkicks West out of the ring, but that is irrelevant because Arcola is the legal man. Arcola gets in the ring and is waiting for Toshio as he gets to his feet. Once Toshio gets up, it's too late as Arcola plants a boot the stomach and hooks the arms.] Jim Robson: Here it comes... Arcola Driver!!! Jack Anderson: You've got to be kidding me?! Jim Robson: The cover and the count... one... two... three!!! DING!! DING!! FRANCINE: Here are your winners... Steve West... Gemini... and Justin Arcola!!! Jim Robson: West and Gemini pick up the win thanks to Justin Arcola. Jack Anderson: You know, Arcola is sure to move up in the rankings quickly here in the IWF/WOW. First he joins the Franchise Players, and now a big win here at WrestleFest V. I can see gold around this guys waste in no time. Jim Robson: You could be right. He has certainly impressed me since he joined the IWF/WOW not too long ago and I only expect more from this young man in the near future. ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= SPADES VS EDEN... NEXT!!!!!!! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= [As the camera begins to focus, noise becomes apparent before anything comes into view, and thousands of screaming fans are heard, and all of the various names they chant are lost in the melee. Eventually however, the camera focuses and, although somewhat shakily, we see Anthony Edwards, with a somewhat annoyed look on his face.] Anthony Edwards: Is this thing ready yet? Can we go? Good. [Edwards manages to compose himself and his cool nature takes over.] Anthony Edwards: Ladies and gentleman, as was noted earlier, former IWF/WOW Intercontinental Champion and current I/W Hall of Famer Desert Scorpion was spotted in the arena tonight, and we've finally managed to. . . [Edwards notices a man starting to walk away, and he jumps just a bit.] Anthony Edwards: Excuse me...one moment. [The camera turns to view Edwards rushing over to the taller man, and a brief shouting argument ensues. Eventually however, Edwards and the other man return to face the camera. The man has wavey, sandy brown hair, and he is wearing a tattered pair of jeans, along with a newly-purchased Elijah Flynt shirt. ] Anthony Edwards: Finally, as promised, albeit with SOME difficulty, we have the Desert Scorion with us here tonight. Desert Scorpion: Obviously not enough difficulty. Damn, you people are insistent. [Edwards chooses to ignore that remark.] Anthony Edwards: The obvious question on everyone's mind is "What are you doing here?" Is there something in the wind that you could hint about for us here and the viewers at home? [Scorion rolls his eyes, and an exasperated and irritated look crosses his face, as he takes a sip from a Coke he holds in hand.] Desert Scorpion: You know Edwards, if these are the questions you wish to ask, you may as well hunt down and personally interview every other person in this entire building, since I'm no different than any one of them. I'm here for three reasons. First of all, I enjoy the sport of wrestling. What a shocking scoop that must be. Secondly, it's been a while, and I was curious to see how things are going in I/W. Finally, and probably the only thing that is even the least bit out of the ordinary, I'm here to wish Jeremy Thranton good luck in the main event. It's been a while since I've seen him, and we have a history of both friend and enemy, and I'm here to see him compete. Was that worth dogging my steps through this entire frikkin' building? [Edwards looks unconvinced.] Anthony Edwards: Come on Scorpion, you honestly expect me to buy that? We've seen this all a thousand times over in our business. Former superstar, showing up mysteriously at a Pay-Per-View event? Something's going to go down tonight, isn't it? C'mon, just a few hints. [Scorpion's irritated look intensifies, and now borders on anger.] Desert Scorpion: Look, Edwards, I'm a wrestling fan, and an old acquaintence of Thranton's. That's it. PERIOD. As for my "showing up mysteriously", I bought a ticket through TicketMaster, as did everyone else in this arena, most likely. Nothing is happening here tonight, at least nothing involving me. I've had it with you media rats, I'm outta here. [Scorpion turns quickly and begins to leave, and his shoulder length, sandy-brown hair flutters from his rapidity.] Anthony Edwards: Wait a minute, just a few more... [Edwards breaks off as Scorpion throws the remainder of his drink into the man's face, drenching it. The former wrestler chuckles a bit. ] Desert Scorpion: Now I feel better. I think I'll get a hot dog. [He resumes his walk, and finds a crowd, and in moments, he's lost from view, as Edwards regains his composure and turns back to the camera.] Anthony Edwards: Well, THAT was uncalled for. Anyway, apparently the Desert Scorpion will not be involved directly tonight at WrestleFest, though I for one still have some doubts. That's it, I need a towel, shut the camera off. [The camera is shut off, as we hear Edwards muttering some choice words under his breath about stubborn former superstars. The screen fades back in to an image of Jim Robson and Jack Anderson at their announcing table, in preparation for the next match, as the viewer picks up all of the screaming fans before Robson and Anderson begin speaking.] Jim Robson: What an amazing night we've had so far, and we've only just begun! Who would have thought Desert Scorpion would be here? The I/W is back in business, ladies and gentlemen! Jack Anderson: For once, I'm inclined to agree with you. Jim Robson: Not wasting any time, we have a semi-final match in the Intercontinental Title Tournament up next, as Johny Spades takes on Sean Eden. This would be an important enough match as it is, but these two men have been feuding on and off for quite some time now, and there's a LOT of bad blood here. It started the Mayhem right after Christmas Madness when Spades turned on Eden and attacked him only right after it looked like they were about to start an alliance together. Jack Anderson: That was one of the smarter moves thus far of Spades' career. Why bother teaming up with someone you're so obviously superior to? Jim Robson: I don't know if I'd go that far. Spades has been one of the most impressive wrestlers signed in some time, but Eden is one of the premier atheletes in this federation, too. The fact that they're both here says something in of itself. Spades defeated Chris Carter, and Eden beat Cooper Concrete in their respective quarter-final matches. Jack Anderson: How about mentioning the fact that it was his SECOND first round match? After his lost fair and square to Shane St. Clair? What's up with that? I thought this was a single elimination tournament? Or is it just President Jurkschat showing favoritism again? Jim Robson: Jack, you know as well as I do Eden was given that second chance because Spades cost him that first match with St. Clair. Luckily for him he got to take the departing Kritical Kondition's spot. Jack Anderson: I don't necessarily see it as "lucky". Spades has grown tired of Eden, he's pain a thorn in his side for over two months now, and he's looking to end it all here tonight, and in the process, I wouldn't be surprised to see Spades end HIM. Permanently. Jim Robson: It's certainly going to be a highly volatile encounter, and it should be a great match between two highly talented rivals. Both of these men are all-around skilled atheletes, but Eden is faster and more agile, and Spades is much larger and more powerful. They've both fought before, so they're familiar with each other's styles as well. Personally, I'd have to lean towards Eden here, but it could easily go either way. Jack Anderson: Just another oppurtunity for you to be wrong. Spades wins this one easy. Jim Robson: Assuming that happens, and if St. Clair wins too, we could end up with two Franchise Players members in the finals of this tournament in the ladder match! Now THAT would be interesting! Jack Anderson: I hate to quote that moron Thranton, but that's something you can bet on. No way either Spades or St. Clair are losing to their mediocre competition here tonigth! Jim Robson: That remains to be seen! Let's get down to the ring and let Francine get this one underway! __ __ ___ ____ / / /\ \ \/ __\ ___| -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= \ \/ \/ / _\ |___ \ IC TITLE TOURNAMENT - SEMI-FINALS! \ /\ / / ___) | Spades vs Eden \/ \/\/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= ------------------------> WRITER: Derek Kline <-------------------------- [The view switches to that of Francine standing in the ring, and the men cheer like crazy as she begins announcing.] FRANCINE: The following contest is set for one fall, and is.... SEMI FINAL MATCH IN THE INTERCONTENTIAL TITLE TOURNAMENT!!!! [The crowd pops huge] FRANCINE: Introducing first.... [A streak of fireworks boom out from nowhere as "Bored" by Deftones plays over the PA system.] Francine: About to enter the ring, from Moncton, New Brunswick, Canada standing 6 feet 1 inch and weighing at 204 pounds, here is ... SEAN EDEN!!!!! [Sean Eden slowly come's out from behind the curtains, wearing a pair of baggy black jean, he also is wearing a hemp necklace, and sweat is dripping from his short brown hair. Sean Eden come's down the aisle look at the fans, and smiling at them. Sean Eden get's in the ring, and make's his way to the middle. A pile of fireworks begin to blast away behind him, as the crowds give's a major pop.] FRANCINE: And his opponent, being lead to the ring from his fellow Franchise Player stablemate Justin Arcola.... The lights dim as purple strobe lights flash through the complex. A low bass starts to rumble through the building making the fans stand to their feet and take notice. FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Las Vegas, Nevada, standing 6 feet 8 inches and weighing 285 pounds, here is ... JOHNNY SPADES!! [The entranceway suddenly disappears as purple pyros engulf the whole stage. The lyrics of "Drop a Gem on Em" begins to thunder through the building.] # It's the infamous back in the house once again Livin the life that of diamonds and guns and now gems pulls gats like a basehead pulls on stems the Mobb got the bomb run out and tell a friend Drop A Gem On Em.. # [As the chrous comes to an end the pyros subside. The boos get louder as Johnny Spades walks to the top of the entranceway decked out in his usual attire of black knee pads,black elbow pads,black boots with J.S written in old english,black trunks with a skull wearing a jokers cap on the front and "Spades" written on the back in white old english. Covering his muscular torso is a black T-shirt with the skull wearing a jokers cap logo on the front and the phrase "Don't Hate Greatness" on the back in white old english. A cocky snarl is on his face as he scans the crowd.] # Sick 'n tired, all these fake crooks need to retire they gotcha gassed, takin back and snatch fire outcha maggot ass, Havoc represent for the Q-B-C smoke that ass like a lucie..tho I need to quit f*** it, I love it like a cloud over the projects your game Im above it its combat, gats bangers and all that you'se a small cat, whatever you on get off that # [Spades shakes he head then walks slowly down to the ring. That cocky sneer still etched across his face.] # I mention, nuthin but the real sh** presentin the hollow tip crew 41st side convention try for? you half-steppin like a fresh tec out of the box yo ni**** I'm testin (There's no question) bitch ass have you confessin like a D-T left in state of depression # [Spades walks up the steps then looks at the crowd once again before dipping through the ropes. Now the purple lights only flash in the ring as Spades swiftly climbs to the second turnbuckle.] # You under pressure, intact no doubt catcher the snitch-snatcher tookin wit asthma you casper, you yell my name thats only givin me props plus the fans that you got, wonderin whats got you hot its too not, knocked out the box and got rocked got raped on the Island, you officially got kick that thug shit, Vibe magazine on some love shit (keep it real kid, you don't know who you f***in wit) # [Spades raises his arms in the air getting a huge heel pop. It doesn't seem to faze him. Actually he seems to like it as a devilish grin spreads across his face.] # It's the Infamous back in the house once again Livin the life that of diamonds and guns and now gems pull gats like a basehead pull on stems the Mobb got the bomb run out and tell a friend Drop A Gem On Em # FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Las Vegas, Nevada, standing 6 feet 8 inches and weighing 285 pounds, here is ... JOHNNY SPADES!! [The lights come back on and the music slowly dies. Spades climbs down, rips off his T-shirt and throws it to ringside.] Jim Robson: SEAN EDEN OFF THE ROPES AND NAILS SPADES WITH A FLYING DROPKICK, SPADES STAGGERS AND FALLS AGAINST THE ROPES!! EDEN RUNNING AGAIN AND TAKES HIM OVER THE TOP TO THE OUTSIDE WITH A CLOTHESLINE!! EDEN BOUNCING OFF THE ROPES YET AGAIN.... SLINGSHOT SOMERSAULT PLANCHA ONTO SPADES!!!! [Huge crowd pop] Jack Anderson: They're not wasting any time getting underway here, the hostility between these men really showing its face, and early! Jim Robson: Spades is still trying to catch himself after that agressive match opening from Eden, and Eden is recovering from that incredible dive. Spades is actually to his feet first...he's set up Eden...stiff right hand, and another...and another, Eden is reeling! Spades with a but to the gut...SPADES DRIVES HIM DOWN TO THE CONCRETE WITH A CLOTHESLINE! The ref outside now trying to get control of this match, he's ordering both men back in the ring. Jack Anderson: Too bad, the match being on the outside could have some entertaining moments. Jim Robson: I'm sure this will be a great match regardless, especially if the rest of it is anything like the beginning. Spades rolling Eden back in the ring and following after him...SPADES STOMPING AWAY AT EDEN'S HEAD AND NECK AREA VICIOUSLY, NOT ALLOWING HIM TO STAND. Spades pulling Eden up roughly by his hair and tosses him back HARD into the turnbuckle, now he's in on him, just _POUNDING_ him with stiff rights, legs and elbows....Spades holding Eden...VICIOUS EUROPEAN UPPERCUT! Jack Anderson: See, this is exactly why Spades has been as successful as he has been, and why he's going to be even more so in the future. His no-nonsense killer instinct. Jim Robson: It's certainly done wonders for him so far, and Eden is definetly hurting as the ref is ordering Spades out of the corner. Wait...Spades now grabbing Eden around the throat with both hands...HE LIFTS HIM UP THE AIR AND HOLDS HIM UP IN A CHOKE HOLD...the ref laying the count on him... 1... 2... 3... 4... SPADES THROWS HIM DOWN TO THE MAT FULL FORCE, HE TOOK THAT RIGHT ON THE BACK OF THE HEAD! Spades pulling Eden to his feet again, he whips him into the ropes...FLYING KNEE BY SPADES SENDS EDEN DOWN HARD! Great agility shown by the big man! Jack Anderson: That's another of Spades' attributes. A lot of big guys tend to rely almost entirely on the strength and size. Spades is a very versatile athelete, as he just showed there. Jim Robson: That's certainly true...Spades whipping the hurt Eden into the ropes again, he goes for a clothesline...EDEN DUCKS UNDER SPADE'S ARMS...CRUCIFIX, THE REF COUNTS!!! 1.... . . . . 2... . . . . KICK OUT!!! Wow, that was close, and so early in the match, too. Eden coming off the ropes as Spades gets to his feet, HE GRABS SPADES'S HEAD AND DRIVES HIM DOWN WITH A RUNNING BULLDOG. OFF THE ROPES AGAIN...FLYING ELBOW DROP THE SMALL OF SPADE'S BACK! Jack Anderson: A couple of short offensive flurries like this aren't going to be near enough for Eden to topple Spades. Spades is just too big, too tough, and too damn good. Jim Robson: Yes, so you've stated, but right now, Eden has certainly taken over the control of this match. Eden waiting for Spades to stand....HE HOOKS HIM FROM BEHIND...DRAGON SUPLEX!!!! Eden not able to deliver that move to full potential because of Spades' size, but Spades took it _right_ on his head. Eden pulling Spades up from behind....SPADES MULL KICKS HIM RIGHT IN THE GROIN, THE REF DIDN'T SEE, AND EDEN IS DOWN AND IN PAIN! Jack Anderson: Hehehe...great amateur wrestling strategy, right there. Jim Robson: Jack, you're despicable, that's blatant cheating. Spades down on Eden again, nailing him repeatedly with rights and lefts. He's pulling him to his feet..a whip to the ropes....POWERSLAM!!! SPADES COVERS!!!! 1... . . . . 2... . . . . KICK OUT!!! Spades methodically moving over to Eden, he lifts him up...HE DROPS HIM FACE FIRST INTO THE TURNBUCKLE, THAT'S ALSO CALLED SNAKE EYES!! Eden took that one hard in the face...yes, it looks like he's bleeding from the nose. Jack Anderson: That's definetly not good news for Eden. You know Spades will go right for that injured body part, and to have it at an early point in the match is a major disadvantage. Jim Robson: Spades must have heard you...he has Eden...HE SMASHES HIS FACE INTO THE TURNBUCKLE...AND AGAIN...AND AGAIN... [Being as Spades is the "bad guy", the fans don't feel obligated to count along, but Spades drives Eden's face into the buckle several more times, and by the time he's done, Eden is bleeding profusely from the nose.] Jack Anderson: This is the beginning of the end already, right here. Jim Robson: Come on now, let's not count Eden out so early. Spades pushing Eden into the corner...KNIFE EDGE CHOP. [A big "whoo" from the crowd] Spades now drives several vicious knee lifts into Eden's gut...Spades with Eden...FULL FORCE WHIP TO THE OPPOSITE TURNBUCKLE...SPADES CATCHES HIM ON THE WAY BACK....BELLY TO BACK SUPLEX AND A COVER!!!! 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . EDEN KICKS OUT!!! Spades now pulling Eden to his feet...HE LIFTS HIM UP AGAIN...STOMACH BREAKER! [The crowd lets out a collective gasp as Spades drives Eden down *hard* across his knee, stomach first, driving the wind completely out of him.] Jack Anderson: You know, I knew Spades was going to dominate this match, but I didn't know it was going to be THIS easy. Eden had better get something going, and SOON if he wants to stay in this match at all. Jim Robson: I'm going to have to agree with you, Eden can't take much more of this. Spades now has Eden bent over....HE'S GOING FOR A PILEDRIVER, THIS COULD BE IT... EDEN OUT OF NOWHERE WITH A BACKDROP!!! Spades up quickly at Eden...EDEN NAILS HIM A LEAPING SKIN KICK RIGHT IN THE FACE, SPADES FALLS BACK AGAINST THE ROPES...Eden whipping him into the ropes....HURRICANRANNA!!! A COVER... 1..... . . . . 2..... . . . . LAST SECOND KICKOUT!!! Eden quickly climbing to the top rope as Spades is still laying on the ground from that full impact Hurricanranna...EDEN NAILS SPADES WITH A FROGSPLASH, PERFECTLY EXECUTED!! You were saying, Jack? Jack Anderson: Look, Spades has already done his damage. Look at Eden, the kid's going to need a nose job after the match. He's got to be in intense pain just from that. Jim Robson: It doesn't seem to be hindering him right now...Eden waiting for Spades to stand as he is up first...EDEN LEAPS AND DRIVES HIS LEG DOWN INTO THE BACK OF SPADES'S HEAD, SENDING HIM FACE FIRST INTO THE MAT!!! Eden doing a good job at this point of using his speed to his advantage. Spades getting to his feet clutching his face...EDEN RUNS AND SLIDES BETWEEN SPADES'S LEGS, HE LEAPS TO HIS SHOULDERS FROM BEHIND...VICTORY ROLL!!! 1..... . . . . 2..... . . . . THR....NO, SPADES KICKS OUT!!!! THAT WAS _CLOSE_! Eden coming from behind Spades now...setting him up....GERMAN SUPLEX....wait, he's holding on...he's trying to pull the bigger man up for another one, he's struggligng for leverage...SPADES ELBOWS HIM IN THE FACE! Spades with a knee to Eden's gut....DOUBLE ARM DDT!!! A COVER... 1..... . . . . 2..... . . . . KICK OUT!!!! Jack Anderson: I think you may have just seen the end of Eden's offense, right there. Eden's only hope in this match was to use his speed and keep the match at a fast pace. If Spades is able to dictate that and keep the match slow, Eden's chances are screwed. Jim Robson: I don't know if I'd go that far but it'll certainly be to Spades' advantage to keep the match a slower pace. Spades whipping Eden into the ropes...HE GOES FOR AN ELBOW SMASH, EDEN DUCKS AND COMES OFF THE OTHER ROPES...SPADES KICKS HIM RIGHT IN THE FACE WITH A BIG BOOT! [The crowd lets loose a chorus of boos at this, as Eden's nose bleeds even further, some of it beginning to stain the canvas of the ring.] Jim Robson: Spades practically _decapitated_ Eden with that move, Eden is on the ground and not moving....Spades pulling Eden to his feet and setting him up...SAMOAN DROP BY SPADES, HE DRIVES HIM DOWN!!! Spades setting up Eden again...SIDEWALK SLAM!!! HE COVERS... 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . KICK OUT!!!! Spades now...setting Eden up...HEAD AND ARM BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX, HE DROPS EDEN HARD ON HIS SIDE, EDEN ROLLING ON THE MAT AND CLUTCHING HIS RIBS. Jack Anderson: Spades is definetly showing a wide variety of manuevers here tonight. I don't expect this match is going to last much longer. Jim Robson: Eden has definetly taken a lot of punishment, but he's certainly got his own shots in as well. Spades pulling Eden to his feet...REVERSE ATOMIC DROP, EDEN BOUNCES OFF HIS KNEE AND FALLS BACK INTO THE CORNER. Wait..Spades lifting Eden....he drops him on the top rope, facing the audience...he's climbing up after him...SPADES SETTING HIM UP FOR A TOP ROPE BELLY TO BACK SUPLEX...NO!!! EDEN FIGHTING BACK...HE DRIVES A SERIES OF ELBOWS INTO SPADES'S FACE...SPADES IS LOSING HIS BALANCE...EDEN SHOVES BACKWARDS.... [The crowd lets out a pop as Spades falls backwards full force from the top rope and lands on his back, taking the blow fully on the back of his head and neck.] EDEN NOW...HE'S STILL TURNED AROUND.... MOONSAULT LEGDROP FROM THE TOP ROPE AND A COVER!!!! 1..... . . . . 2..... . . . . THREE...NO, SPADES KICKS OUT JUST IN TIME!!! Jack Anderson: Talk about getting lucky, if Spades had hit that if probably would have been over. Jim Robson: Eden pulling Spades to his feet...setting him up for a suplex...SPADES COUNTERS...HE NAILS HIM WITH A VERTICAL SUPLEX OF HIS OWN. Spades whips Eden into the ropes...EDEN REVERSES...HE PUTS HIS HEAD DOWN FOR A BACK BODY DROP....NO!!! SPADES NAILS HIM OUT OF NOWHERE WITH A SWINGING NECKBREAKER, THE COVER.... 1...... . . . . 2..... . . . . KICK OUT BY EDEN!!!! Spades lifting Eden now...A SCOOP AND A SLAM. He rolls Eden over on his stomach...HE DRIVES AN ELBOW DOWN INTO THE SMALL OF EDEN'S BACK, AND ANOTHER, AND ANOTHER. Spades now pulling Eden to his feet....BEAR HUG BY SPADES, HE LIFTS HIM OFF HIS FEET....PERFECTLY EXECUTED MOVE. Jack Anderson: This is a great manuever to both wear down and opponent and weaken their back. Eden's strength has to be slowly draining...and the blood that's still pouring from his nose has to be weakening him as well. Jim Robson: Spades keeping the move locked in, Eden grimacing in pain as he begins to really feel the effects of the move....Eden now delivering several short blows to Spade's head to try to get him to the break the hold, not having any luck...EDEN THUMBS SPADES IN THE EYE, THAT DID THE TRICK, HE DROPS EDEN. Jack Anderson: How come you don't complain when Eden is the one cheating? Jim Robson: Jack, please, let's not turn this into a competition, just watch the match. Eden fires several quick kicks to Spade's knee and stomach area...he's setting him up now...REVERSE DDT!!! Eden now leaps over the ropes to the apron...he grabs the top rope...SLINGSHOT LEGDROP OVER THE TOP ROPE ONTO SPADES...A COVER... 1.... . . . . 2.... . . . . KICK OUT BY SPADES!!! Eden signalling that he's going up top again now....he climbs to the top rope and turns around...looks like he's going to go for a moonsault...Spades is up to his feet...this isn't good for Eden, Spades is on his feet and prepared and he doesn't realize it....EDEN OFF THE TOP ROPE WITH A MOONSAULT...._____OH MY DEAR LORD!!!!!!!______ [The crowd lets out of the hugest combination pops/sickened gasps at one of the sickest looking bumps seen in recent I/W history. Eden leaps off the ropes with the moonsault, as Spades stood in preparation. As Eden was beginning to bridge over, Spades caught him in midair, and drove him _straight_ down into the mat with a reverse sit-down piledriver, directly on top of his head. A slow motion instant replay of the move shows Eden's spine just _compacting_ as the move hits, and he lays there in a somewhat grotesque position, not moving as all, as Spades has a sadistic grin on his face.] Jim Robson: Oh my god...I cannot believe what I just saw...this has match has to be stopped...Eden's neck or back could be broken here... [Jack Anderson seems to be lost for words for once.] Jim Robson: The referee is over checking on Eden, who is not moving at all, just laying there limply...whatever he had left in him was completely driven out when he took that hit...wait...Spades is over and shoves the ref out of the way and he's pulling Eden up...come on now, this isn't necessary...SPADES TOSSES EDEN OVER THE TOP ROPE AND TO THE FLOOR! COME ON NOW! [It seems that the referee is going to allow the match to continue reluctantly, partially because he seems intimidated by Spades, who leaves the ring after Eden with a cold, determined look on his face.] Jack Anderson: I predicted before this match that it could be the end of Sean Eden, and after that move and seeing what it looks like is about to happen, that wasn't just idle talk. Jim Robson: Spades grabbing Eden...he lifts him up...HE DROPS HIM STOMACH FIRST ACROSS THE GUARD RAIL, EDEN IS STILL HALF CONSCIOUS AS HE LAYS DRAPED OVER THE RAILING. Wait...Spades has a chair now...HE CRACKS IT ACROSS EDEN'S BACK, CRUSHING HIM INTO THE RAILING! COME ON NOW! THIS IS JUST NOT RIGHT! Jack Anderson: Spades proving right here that he has nothing even resembling a conscience...he might have a hard time getting matches after this... Jim Robson: Eden is finally stirring as he falls off onto the floor, but he's extremely groggy as he just lays there, clutching his ribs. The referee seems to be letting a lot of rule bending slip in this match...he probably doesn't want to see a DQ more than any of us. Spades roughly grabbing Eden by the hair and pulling him shakily up....he has him over by the steps....OH NO!!! [This time, the crowd doesn't seem to pop as much as it lets loose a collective, sympathetic grown of pain, as Spades delivers a somewhat modified Michinoku Driver down onto the ring steps. "Luckily" for Spades, he managed to curve his head somewhat forward to avoid taking it in the neck, and instead takes the edge of one of the steps full in the face, sending a splattering of blood from his nose around the steps.] Jim Robson: This is just completely uncalled for...there's no need to attempt to end a man's career in the process of beating him... Jack Anderson: YOU go over there and tell him! I'm not doing it! Jim Robson: Spades shoves Eden's body off the steps to the floor...he rips the top layer of steps off...oh my...this doesn't look good...no...he's not...NO!!!! [Spades casually lays Eden's head across the bottom set of steps, then raises the top layer and brings it crashing down across the bottom layer, crushing Eden's head between the two layers of steps. He then repeats this as if it is nothing three more times, increasing the power each time.] Jim Robson: SPADES, YOU'RE DISGUSTING!! STOP THIS!! He should be fired for this sickening display! Jack Anderson: I don't know. Eric Travers's postion as my favorite wrestler might be in some jepoardy after watching this ingenius violence . Jim Robson: You should be ashamed of yourself! The referee is finally doing his job, stepping and putting a stop to this...Eden's is wearing a crimson mask, as he's bleeding from his forehead as well as his nose now...Spades casually throwing Eden back into the ring, wearing a disgusting satisfied smirk! Spades rolls Eden over on his back...he covers him with his foot.... 1..... . . . . . 2..... . . . . . . 3!!!! . . NO!!!! OH MY DEAR GOD!!! THE REF IS CALLING TWO!!! HOW ON _EARTH_ DID EDEN MANAGE TO KICK OUT OF THAT? [Spades has a half shocked/half pissed look on his face as he stares at the limp, bleeding form of Sean Eden on the mat, and argues with the referee briefly.] Jack Anderson: Not to take anything away from Sean Eden, but that had to be a sort of nerve reflex or something. Because there's absolutely no way otherwise. Jim Robson: Jim, regardless of what happens after this, that was one of the most amazing feats I've seen in all my years in wrestling. Spades is looking to end this finally and he's dragging Eden to the center of the ring and calling for the Strip....he's setting him up...HE HAS HIM UP IN THE AIR....NO!!! HE LOSES HIS GRIP AND EDEN SLIPS OUT THE BACK AND ROLLS HIM UP OUT OF NOWHERE!!!! 1..... . . . . . . . 2..... . . . . . . . THREEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! [HUGE pop from the fans, which is quickly silenced.] Jim Robson: UNBELIEVABLE! THE REFEREE IS CALLING FOR A TWO COUNT!! THAT HAS TO BE ONE OF THE CLOSEST COUNTS I'VE EVER SEEN! [An instant replay shows that while it _was_ unbelievably close, the ref's hand didn't hit the mat till IMMEDIATELY after Spades lifted his shoulder.] Jack Anderson: What a crock that would have been! After Spades has just destroyed this loser this entire match! Jim Robson: Jack, you're having a somewhat selective memory, Eden has done a lot of damage himself, and he very nearly pulled it off right there. Eden is actually STANDING now...leaning against the turnbuckle, with a glazed over look in his eyes, as he shakily reaches up and wipes the blood out of them...Spades advancing on him menacingly....EDEN FIRES AT HIM WITH A RIGHT HAND, I CAN'T BELIEVE HE'S EVEN FIGHTING BACK! Jack Anderson: It's not like it has any strength behind it, he's just fighting on instinct here. Jim Robson: That may be true, but he's showing more guts here than I would ever have thought he'd have! Spades grabs Eden...RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP, Eden is laid out flat on his back....Spades now...he's going up top...for a big man, he's actually quite adept at this....NO!!!! [With strength coming from god knows where, Eden pushes himself to his feet and lunges at the top rope, shaking it, which sends Spades _straight_ down, crotching himself on the top rope, as the crowd lets out another huge pop.] Jack Anderson: Ouch! Where on earth is this punk getting this from? He shouldn't even be able to lift his head up! Jim Robson: EDEN IS CALLING FOR THE STAY DOWN SUPLEX!!! He climbs up to the top rope as fast as is possible for him...he lifts Spades up for it....NO!!! [Eden lifts Spades up for the top rope Jackhammer style move and begins falling back, but Spades shifts his weight in mid air and falls on Eden in a cross body style pin.] THE REF COUNTS!!!! 1....... . . . . . . . . . 2...... . . . . . . . . . NO!!!! SPADES PULLS EDEN UP!!!! [The crowd boos loudly at this.] Come on now! This isn't necessary! Jack Anderson: I have to question this judgement. He had him beat there, Eden's strength gave out and that would have been an easy pin. Eden could pull off another of his sneaky little rollups and that could be it! Jim Robson: I think that was all Eden had left...Spades setting up Eden up....yes...SPADES NAILS HIM WITH THE STRIP MODIFIED POWERBOMB!!! (The move also known as a Razor's Edge)....The ref covers, this is just a formality.... 1....... . . . . . . . . . 2..... . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!! DING! DING! DING! DING! FRANCINE: The winner of this match, advancing to the finals of the Intercontinental Title Tournament, ["Drop A Gem On 'Em" by Mobb Depp plays and the fans boo loudly], JOHNY SPADES. Jim Robson: Spades gets the win after delivering one of the most brutal beatings I think I've ever seen, but Eden showing amazing resilience up to the very end as well as going toe to toe with him for a good portion of the match... Jack Anderson: Whatever - Spades kicked his ass, and now hopefully he can concentrate on more important things, like the finals of the tournament. You're looking at your next IC champion, ladies and gentlemen. Jim Robson: It looks like there's medical help coming out for Eden... [Spades is celebrating and showboating in the ring, trash talking at the downed Sean Eden, as Justin Arcola enters the ring and joins the celebration with him.] Jim Robson: Okay, you've made your point...now...NO!!! Come on now!!! [On cute, Spades and Arcola both begin stomping and kicking the downed form of Eden repeatedly, then Spades drops to begin pounding him with stiffed closed right hands to the face and head, as Arcola goes outside the ring and grabs a chair and tosses it to Spades.] Jim Robson: Somebody stop this! The man is helpless now! NO!!! *CRACK* [As Arcola pulls Eden to a kneeling position, Spades nails him across the head with the chair, sending blood in several directions, then spits on him as he lays crumpled up on the mat.] Jack Anderson: This will teach this fool to mess with the Franchise Players! I'm sure this'll be his last match with Spades, too! Jim Robson: This is beyond contempt...wait, who's that? [The camera pans around to see self appointed IWF/WoW Commisioner Kenneth Halston run down to the ring and get in between Spades and Arcola and the limp form of Eden, ripping the chair out of Spades' hands.] Jim Robson: It's about TIME somebody did something! Jack Anderson: As much as I hate to say it, this needed to stop...obviously Halston cares about the welfare of the wrestlers in this federation. Jim Robson: Well, he's the only one who was doing anything, and he gets my respect for that. Jack Anderson: Spades and Arcola not taking too kindly to it though. [Spades and Arcola curse and threaten at Halston as he continues to prevent them from attacking Eden, and they finally leave, followed by Halston, and then medical officers who come out to help Eden to the back. The crowd cheers Eden's effort as he is escorted to the back.] Jim Robson: Johny Spades is in the finals after that immensly brutal match...and we have plenty more action for you yet tonight! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= WHO WILL SPADES FACE?? FIND OUT NEXT! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= [The screen switches to a shot of the back entrance as a black limo pulls in. After it slows down to a stop, four men in their mid 40's step out; one is attired in black denim, head to toe (pants and jacket), and sporting short brown hair; another wears black cargo-style pants, a baggy white shirt overlapped with a zipper upped red vest w/ a black outline, and a messy looking coif of dirt blonde hair; another with short black hair wears a dark brown suede sport jacket (the hip kind, without buttons) with a white silk dress shirt underneath, along with equally dark brown suede pants; the last man is arrayed in black dress pants, a black sports jacket w/ a long-collared black dress shirt w/ blue mottling, a gold chain necklace, and a cigarette - he also has medium length black hair, slightly receding and slicked back. They begin to walk into the back entryway... when two security guards stop them.] 4TH MAN: Wot gives?! GUARD ONE: We can't just let anybody in here, if you're here to see the show, go around to the front, please, sir. [The man takes a drag off his cigarette then blows the smoke in the guard's face, who coughs and blows it away, but takes it stride.] 4TH MAN: You got t' be kiddin' me?! Do y'think we'd be 'ere if we were just spectators?! GUARD TWO: Please, sir, remove yourself from this restricted area... 1ST MAN: Bloody 'ell! I don't believe this shit! 3RD MAN: Look ... [Looks at their name tags.] 3RD MAN: ... Derek and Mike, one of you be a good bloke an' run upstairs an' fetch your boss. GUARD TWO: Sir, I can't do that. 4TH MAN: BOLLOCKS!!! Get your damn arse a movin'... do you think we're here for the 'ell of it?! GUARD ONE: We really can't allow you in, nor leave our post. [The fourth man throws up his arms in frustration then throws away the last half of his cigarette in anger.] 4TH MAN: Look... your President, ... wot's 'is name? Lads, 'elp me out 'ere... 3RD MAN: All I know is 'is last name is Jurkschat... GUARD TWO: Yeah, President Jurkschat, he runs the IWF/WOW, why? 4TH MAN: Tell your president, Jurkschat, that 'is guests 'ave arrived. We didn't come all this way t' be shat on by th' likes of you! Just go... tell 'im. GUARD TWO: Sirs... 2ND MAN: 'Ey, just tell 'im. We called 'im Friday night... 4TH MAN: Oh fer frig's sake... I got a bad case of jet lag and we're stuck dealin' with these sods! GUARD ONE: Well, I suppose I can make a quick call... [The fourth man rolls his eyes.] 4TH MAN: Good! [Cut back to ringside.] Jack Anderson: What was that all about? Jim Robson: I'm not sure. Up next folks we will get to see one of the semi-final match-ups for the Intercontinental Title as Fraternity member "Smooth Criminal" Charlie Vahn will take on one of The Franchise Players, "The Headliner" Shane St. Clair, and these two are no strangers to each other!! Jack Anderson: Correct with this battle going on between the two factions, The Franchise Players versus The Fraternity, these two men are very familiar with each other, and I say that this is going to be one heck of an ass whooping this match right here!! __ __ ___ ____ / / /\ \ \/ __\ ___| -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= \ \/ \/ / _\ |___ \ IC TITLE TOURNAMENT - SEMI-FINALS! \ /\ / / ___) | Vahn vs St. Clair \/ \/\/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= -----------------------> WRITER: Chris Shannon <------------------------- FRANCINE: The following contest is set for one fall with a 20 minute time limit, and it is a semi-final match for the IWF/WOW Intercontinental Championship! [The crowd gives a pop.] FRANCINE: Introducing first.... ["Vigilante 8 theme" by Luxoflux blasts over the arena loudspeakers. The crowd delivers an ***ENORMOUS POP***] Francine: About to enter the ring, accompanied by I/W diva Martini, and hailing from New York, New York, USA standing 6 feet 1 inches and weighing 210 pounds, here is the... <><**"SMOOTH CRIMINAL" CHARLIE VAHN**><> [Two lightning bolts in the shape of a "V" slam down onto the entrance tunnel. "Smooth Criminal" Charlie Vahn and Martini make their way into the entryway and stop before the ramp to pose for the crowd. Charlie Vahn wears his traditional ring attire which consists of either a pair of black slacks or cargo pants, white sports coat with a rose in the breast pocket, a blue tux vest or white T-shirt, and a pair of checkered bowling shoes. Martini, sexy and always appealing to the crowd wears a silver tube top, short black velvet skirt, and long black boots. After the bombardment of camera flashes, the duo begin to walk down the ramp. The "Smooth Criminal," along with Martini, enter the ring and position themselves in the center of the ring. Martini slowing gropes Vahn's chest, and removes his jacket. As Martini makes her exit from the ring, she kisses Vahn on the cheek and waves to the crowd. Charlie Vahn then points his hands as if they are handguns. Vahn then bows his head and points his hands in the air in the form of a "V" as sparks from beside the ring shoot up in the shape of a "V." Vahn then begins stretching, awaiting the next victim to be taken down by the "Smooth Criminal."] Jack Anderson: Gee I find it's funny that neither Hightower or Triple C are here with Charlie Vahn for his match-up. Jim Robson: Well I can't speak for Chris Carter, but I know Hightower and Charlie Vahn talked before they show and they agreed that whether they win or lose here tonight, that they want to do it on their own. Jack Anderson: Bah.....that's pretty damn stupid if you ask me! FRANCINE: And his opponent.... ["Wait and Bleed" by Slipknot begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd boo's loudly.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Jacksonville, FL standing 6 feet 1 inches and weighing 270 pounds, here is ... "The Headliner" Shane St. Clair!!!!! [St. Clair is dressed in a pair of yellow wrestling tights that cling tightly to his lower thighs. Black boots with black laces that reach just below his calf. His short brown hair is wet down, with only a faint hint of blonde highlight showing through. His face is decorated with a pair of black sunglasses, and a brown goatee. His wrist are taped with black athletic tape that stops at his forearm. He slowly moves down the aisle way, the lovely Regina hanging off his arm. Regina is dressed in skin tight black leather pants, with a leopard print top. Her long brown hair hangs shoulder length touching her back. As St. Clair arrives at ring side he pulls himself on the ring apron and holds open the second rope. Regina steps between the open ropes and walks to the center of the ring awaiting her man. St. Clair walks to the center of the ring, as Regina removes his sunglasses. She smiles at him, and exits the ring.] [As the tail end of St. Clair music plays, the crowd boo's as his Franchise Player teammate Justin Arcola slowly strolls down to ringside, with a cocky grin on his face as he tries to stare down Charlie Vahn, who just shakes his head as he returns the stare of The Franchise Player while keeping one eye on Shane St. Clair.] Jim Robson: Hey what is Arcola doing out here he has no business being here!!! Jack Anderson: Hey he is allowed to be down here to lend some support to his friend! Jim Robson: Yeah right like that's all Arcola has got in mind by being down here!!! [Vahn keeps staring down at Justin Arcola, and with The Smooth Criminal distracted St. Clair makes his move, attacking Charlie Vahn from behind.] DING! DING! DING! Jim Robson: St. Clair nailing Vahn with forearms to the back....he spins Vahn around and tosses him in the corner..... [St. Clair goes to hit Charlie Vahn with a right hand, but Vahn blocks it, and reverses their positions, throwing Shane St. Clair in the corner and going to work on him, which receives a big face pop from the crowd.] Jim Robson: NO VAHN'S GOING TO WORK ON ST. CLAIR WITH PUNCHES TO THE HEAD, THE RIBS, KICKS TO THE MID-SECTION.....!!!!! Jack Anderson: VAHN LOOKS LIKE HE'S SNAPPED.....hmmm I wonder what HE overdosed on! HA! [Vahn grabs St. Clair's arm, sending him to the opposite corner with an Irish Whip.] Jim Robson: St. Clair crashes hard into the turnbuckle....Charlie Vahn rushes in.......MONKEY FLIP!!! VAHN GOES OLD SCHOOL!!! Jack Anderson: A Monkey Flip?? I thought we only saw that in women's wrestling! [The crowd pops as Vahn flashes a cocky grin and breaks out in his dance routine, which he calls The Devil's Dance Floor, which gets the crowd going even more as Justin Arcola yells at Vahn from the outside of the ring, disgusted with the display from Vahn.] Jim Robson: Well Justin Arcola isn't too fond of Vahn's antics....but regardless right now Vahn has things going his way.... [St. Clair is on his hands and knees trying to get back up to the mat, and Vahn finally stops dancing and turns his attention back to the match, grabbing St. Clair by the hair and pulling him up to his feet. On the way up St. Clair drives an elbow to the mid-section of Charlie Vahn sending him a few steps back, then St. Clair uses his knee driving it straight up, connecting with the jaw of Vahn sending The Smooth Criminal crashing down to the mat.] Jack Anderson: You were saying Jim?? Jim Robson: St. Clair picks up Vahn and sets him up......MY GAWD JUMPING PILEDRIVER!!! THIS COULD BE ALL SHE WROTE..... REF: One..... . . . . . . . . . . Two..... . . . . . . . . . . Thre..... Jim Robson: NO KICKOUT BY VAHN!!! THAT WAS CLOSE!!! [The crowd pops as Vahn holds his shoulder off of the mat while a frustrated Shane St. Clair argues with the referee that he got the three count. Finally he brushes off the ref, getting up and methodically kicking away at Vahn, letting Vahn get to his hands and knees and then delivering a stiff kick tothe ribs, sending Vahn crashing back down to the canvas.] Jack Anderson: I tell you The Headliner is just moments away from winning this match! Just think about it, Johnny Spades already won his semi-final match, so that would make it Franchise Players versus Franchise Player for the IC strap! Jim Robson: Well I do admit that the situation would be interesting, and an awkward one at that, but I wouldn't count out The Fraternity member Charlie Vahn just yet as this youngster can always come out of nowhere to surprise you!!! Jack Anderson: Not in this match!!! [Shane St. Clair starts to pick Vahn up to his feet, while looking down at his teammate Justin Arcola and his manager Regina, and they give him the thumbs up confident that he is well on his way to winning the match.] Jim Robson: St. Clair with Vahn.....HANGMAN'S NECKBREAKER!!! Jack Anderson; THAT'S IT RIGHT THERE DAMNIT PIN HIM ST. CLAIR PIN HIM!!!! REF: One..... . . . . . . . . . . Two..... . . . . . . . . . . THREE..... [Huge pop from the crowd.] Jim Robson: NO VAHN GOT HIS SHOULDER UP!!!! Jack Anderson: No St. Clair got the three count!!! Jim Robson: Take another look Jack the ref is signaling it was only a two count!! Jack Anderson: Yeah well the ref is wrong too damnit you're all wrong Shane St. Clair should be having his arm raised in the air as the victor!!! [St. Clair gets to his feet and gets right in the face of the referee, demanding that he got the three count. As he argues with the referee, Charlie Vahn is slow to get to his feet, but sees that he has a chance to take down St. Clair who is being distracted. Vahn let's himself lean in the corner for a few moments to regain his composure and some energy, and the crowd pops as Vahn takes off running toward St. Clair who has his back turned to him.] Jim Robson: VAHN WITH A STINGER SPLASH..... [The crowd gives a HUGE shocked pop at what they see.] Jim Robson: NO ST. CLAIR MOVED OUT OF THE WAY AND PUT THE REFEREE IN HARMS WAY!!! Jack Anderson: That's great ring work by Shane St. Clair.....he knew Vahn was coming and made Vahn look like a fool in the process!!! [Charlie Vahn staggers back shaking his head, then he looks down on the mat and sees the referee slumped out cold, and leans down to check on the referee to see if he is okay.] Jim Robson: Well suddenly we are left without a ref.... Jack Anderson: That doesn't matter, all that matters is that Shane St. Clair is going to beat the living hell out of Charlie Vahn, I can feel it in my bones!!! [Vahn stands up shaking his head, feeling bad about knocking the ref out, and he stands up and turns to face St. Clair, but St. Clair was waiting for him and Vahn gets nailed with a huge Clothesline from St. Clair. The crowd starts to immediately boo St. Clair, sickened by his actions.] Jim Robson: We have no ref, St. Clair has Vahn down but.....he's asking for something from Justin Arcola.... [Justin Arcola gets a big grin on his face as he nods and reaches under the ring for something. Finally he finds what he is looking for and slides it out from under the ring and hands it to St. Clair, who smiles as he raises the object, a shovel, in the air with one arm. Then he points to the spade of the shovel, which has been previously dented, and by this time the crowd is deafening as their boo's almost drown out the commentators.] Jim Robson: ST. CLAIR HAS A SHOVEL....THAT'S THE SAME SHOVEL HE USED TO KNOCK OUT SEAN EDEN IN THE FIRST ROUND OF THIS TOURNAMENT!!! Jack Anderson: HA......IT EVEN HAS EDEN'S HEAD PRINT ON IT!!! [Finally St. Clair takes position, holding the shovel in swinging position as he waits for Charlie Vahn to get up to his feet as The Smooth Criminal slowly starts to stir.] Jim Robson: This isn't any good, we need a ref down here!!! [Charlie Vahn gets to one knee but is still very shaky, and St. Clair smiles as he lifts the shovel high above his head, waiting to strike. Suddenly the crowd gives a small pop as someone is seen rushing down the aisle headed toward the ring.] Jim Robson: IT'S "THE COMMISH" KENNETH HALSTON!!! Jack Anderson: NO NO NO NO!!! [Vahn finally gets to his feet and turns around to see where St. Clair is. The Headliner pulls back on the shovel and starts to swing, but at the last second The Commissioner Kenneth Halston gets in the ring and takes the shovel away from Shane St. Clair who turns to face the Commissioner as the two have a long hard cold staredown.] Jack Anderson; What the hell did he do that for?!?! Jim Robson: Well I have no clue whether he has any genuine power or not, but over the last few weeks we've seen "The Commissioner " Kenneth Halston watching The Franchise Players in total and utter disgust, and I guess he has decided to come out here and stop this before it goes any further! [St. Clair starts to trash talk Halston, who yells right back at St. Clair as the two are having quite a verbal war, however The Commissioner still has the shovel in his hands.] Jim Robson: This is tense, you can feel something's about to break out here!!! Jack Anderson: Come on Headliner kick this guys ass and then kick Vahns ass!!! Jim Robson: My my aren't you the verbal linguist tonight! Jack Anderson: Huh?? [Vahn finally has regained his footing, and glares at Shane St. Clair like he wants to rip him apart. Finally as Vahn starts to move forward to attack St. Clair, "The Commissioner" Kenneth Halston starts to swing the shovel.] {{{C-R-A-C-K}}} [The crowd gives a huge shocked pop.] Jim Robson: WHAT THE HELL!!!!! [The crowd is still in shock as St. Clair is facing Kenneth Halston still, but he is down on one knee, still glaring up at Halston, who returns the glare. Finally they both crack huge smiles as St. Clair covers Vahn and The Commissioner revives the ref and drags him over to the fallen Vahn, which prompts a huge heel pop from the crowd as they even start to throw some garbage into the ring.] Jim Robson: HALSTON HIT VAHN IN THE HEAD IN THE SHOVEL.....BUT IT WASN'T AN ACCIDENT!!! Jack Anderson: NO IT WAS A SET UP IT WAS IT IS.....HERE'S THE COUNT!!!! REF: One..... . . . . . . . . . . Two..... . . . . . . . . . . THREE!!!!! DING! DING! DING! Jim Robson: NO DAMNIT NO!!! NOT LIKE THIS!!! FRANCINE: Here is your winner of the match and the man who will move on to the finals of the tournament... " T H E H E A D L I N E R " S H A N E S T . C L A I R ! ! ! ["Wait and Bleed" by Slipknot plays and the fans boo heavily and throw garbage as Shane St. Clair, Kenneth Halston, Regina, and Justin Arcola all celebrate in their ring raising each others arms in victory.] Jim Robson: What is the meaning of this?!?! Why did Kenneth Halston come down to help Shane St. Clair?!?! Jack Anderson: Well duh that's pretty obvious!! He is a Franchise Player now!! Jim Robson; Well regardless you have to admit that so far this night has belonged to The Franchise Players, as both Johnny Spades and St. Clair won their matches and they will meet in the finals now, meaning that regardless of who wins the match the title will be with The Franchise Players! Jack Anderson: That AND don't forget the addition of "The Commissioner " Kenneth Halston to the Franchise Players, which now makes them a force that can't and won't be stopped I guarantee you Jim! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= UP NEXT JOHNNY SLEDGE RETURNS TO THE IWF/WOW! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= [The scene fades in to the locker room backstage at WrestleFest, a few minutes before the main event is about to take place. We see the various I/W wrestlers seated, some looking dejected and miserable, some appearing elated, depending on how their evening fared. Finally the cameraman spots what he was looking for, and we see Jeremy Thranton and former I/W superstar the Desert Scorpion conversing in a corner. The camera rushes in closer to the two legends.] Desert Scorpion: Oh Jesus. Here we go again. Caught by Edwards earlier, and now by one of his hired goons? Can't a man talk to an old friend and reminisce without you scavengers hovering like vultures? There is absolutely nothing of interest here! Look, I'll even repeat the gist of the conversation. 'Thranton, we've competed with and against each other, and I've seen your comeback, and you still have the same fire. Good luck tonight, my friend'. There. Happy? I'm going to start pretending you're not even here now. [Scorpion turns back to Thranton, intent on not noticing the camrea.] Desert Scorpion: What was I saying...oh yeah. That idiot Hightower. I don't like him, and all his posturing. Just make sure SOMEONE takes that belt off his hands tonight. And hit him one for me buddy, will ya buddy? Can't do much from the seats, ya know? Jeremy Thranton: Don't worry, I've got things well in hand tonight. It's really nice to see you once again, it's been too long. [Thranton gives Scorpion a friendly pat on the shoulder.] Jeremy Thranton: If I could give you any advice, it'd be don't stick around too long. Whenever I came back to watch for a night, I ended up in the ring before the show went off the air. It brings back old memories. Get ahold of me after the show if you can, we need to catch up a bit further. Take care, and enjoy the match. [Thranton shakes Scorpion's hand and leaves the room.] Desert Scorpion: God speed, old friend. God speed. [Scorpion turns back to the camrea.] Desert Scorpion: Well, I assume you're expecting more comments? Forget it. I'm a fan now, not a wrestler. I don't have any obligation to talk to you or give you anything. I'll say just this one thing. That - [He points in the direction that Thranton left] is a champion. He's done it before, and it'll be my pleasure to watch him wipe the mat with the others, particularly Hightower. Now Travers, he's a pain in a lot of people's asses, but I like his style. And Flynt, well, he's definately going places, and he's impossible to dislike, but I'm sorry my friend. Thranton's got too much experience. He's my pick tonight. There? Happy? You wrangled a few statements out of me. I'm goin' back to my seat. There's more interesting things than the long-dead memories of an arena locker room, such as hamburgers, fries, beer. Take your pick. I'm outta here. [Scorpion turns and begins walking out of the locker room to return to his expensive, but well worth it, ringside seats.] Jack Anderson: Did you catch that awesome concert in Hal --- Jim Robson: Uh ... [whispers] We're back on! Jack Anderson: So? Jim Robson: Welcome back to IWF/WoW's mothership of PPV's, WrestleFest V! Jack Anderson: Mothership? One too many Star Trek movies for you. Jim Robson: Oh ... Be quiet, you bloody bast... Jack Anderson: Heh. Looks like Flynt is rubbing off on you. Now that's awesome. Jim Robson: Oh! Ugh! Let's get onto our next match. Jack Anderson: Which one? The Ultimate Anderson vs the Brooklyn Brawler "Jimmy Robson"! Jim Robson: Uh ... no. The returning IWF/WoW superstar, Johnny Sledge whom left the federation for his own reasons back in September and has returned about two weeks agao. It's great to see him back . And he will take on the ever-so ignorant Steven Erickson who calls Sledge a sellout who left the IWF/WoW for the greener pastures. Jack Anderson: Ignorant? The man is brilliant! Jim Robson: I don't think so. Jack Anderson: Since [saracastically] the amazing IWF/WoW superstar Johnny Sledge [saracasm "off"] returned, when will "Da Man" return? Jim Robson: Who? Jack Anderson: Oh - it must be before your time! Such newcomers. Anyone who heard that name knows who it is. The God of IWF/WoW! Jim Robson: Hm ... Jack Anderson: Derrick DaMann! Jim Robson: Oh - him. Jack Anderson: Don't treat our IWF/WoW hall of famers like that! Jim Robson: Well, don't put your money on him returning, since he is dead. Jack Anderson: You never know. If Prophet can return as a referee, maybe DaMann will return. Jim Robson: Anyways, back to our match, who do you think .... [DING! DING!] Jim Robson: Looks like we are getting started, let's head down to ringside. __ __ ___ ____ / / /\ \ \/ __\ ___| -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= \ \/ \/ / _\ |___ \ SLEDGE'S IWF/WOW RETURN! \ /\ / / ___) | Sledge vs Erickson \/ \/\/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= -------------------------> WRITER: Jon Idell <--------------------------- FRANCINE: This next contest is scheduled for one fall, and is set at a 15 minute time limit, introducing first... [The video wall begins to fade in and out, as if a heart beat, alternating colors between blue, red, green, and gold. The pulsing begins to speed up, as the opening instrumental music of the Rolling Stone's "Paint It Black" begins to play over the public announcing system...] DA: Any day now. FRANCINE: He hails from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.. standing six feet two inches tall and weighing in tonight at 205 pounds... here is... S T E V E N E R I C K S O N ! ! ! [The curtains part on either side and Steven steps through, the crowd gives a decent ovation for Steve-o. He strides down the aisle clad in a "Steven 6.0" tee-shirt and black sweats which are rolled over a pair of work boots. Meanwhile, the video wall lights up to reveal huge, bold letters with the words "Steven Erickson"] DA: Still has no fashion sense, huh? May be you can teach him,Richy! HAHA. [Steve stops before the squared circle, cracks his neck followed by his knuckles. Finally, he slides into the ring, hands on his hips waiting for Johnny-boy.] [The insturmental beginning to "My Hero" by the Foot Fighters comes on over the P.A. System. The cheers from the crowd slowly begin to build before Johnny Sledge even comes out.] FRANCINE: Coming to the ring right now... From Boston, Massachusetts... Weighing in at 230 pounds... #Too alarming now to talk about #Take your pictures down and shake it out #Truth or consequence, say it aloud #Use that evidence, race it around [Just as the lyrics kick in Sledge appears from behind the curtain. The crowd begins to cheer, while Sledge hasn't looked up from the ground yet.] FRANCINE: He is The One... The Only... The Original... Johnny Sledge!!! #There goes my hero #Watch him as he goes #There goes my hero #He's ordinary [Sledge is wearing dark red full-legged tights with it saying "Sledge" down the sides of the legs in a black futuristic font and black boots. You can see the knee brace Sledge has to wear from under the tights. Sledge has and elbow pad on his left arm and both of his wrists are taped.] #Don't the best of them bleed it out #While the rest of them peter out #Truth or consequence, say it aloud #Use that evidence, race it around [Sledge takes a few steps, so he is perfect view of the entire crowd, and looks up and towards the ring. Sledge cracks a devious smirk, but you can tell he there is no joking behind that smile.] #There goes my hero #Watch him as he goes #There goes my hero #He's ordinary [Sledge slowly makes his way down the aisle, occasionally slapping high fives with the fans, but the closer he gets to the ring, the more focused he becomes with the match at hand.] #Kudos my hero leaving all the best #You know my hero, the one that's on [Sledge gets to the ring side area and makes a quick burst and slides into the ring from under the bottom rope and hops right up to his feet. He then climbs up on the nearest turnbuckle and acknowledges the cheers of the fans.] #There goes my hero #Watch him as he goes #There goes my hero #He's ordinary [Sledge gets down from the corner and stretches a bit in the corner, getting ready for the match.] Jim Robson: ERICKSON WASTERS NO TIME! While Sledge was stretching Erickson kneed Sledge in the gut and is pounding away at him with hammer blows to the back! Jack Anderson: At times like this I know why I stay in the business day after day? Jim Robson: Why's that? The great IWF/WoW crowd? Amazing superstars .... Or the dirty wrestling done by some of our wrestlers. Jack Anderson: Uh .... No. No. And No. It's all because of Francine, there is no other possible reason. Jim Robson: Pig. Erickson whips Sledge against the ropes ... back body drop ... NO! KNEE LIFT BY SLEDGE. Erickson stays up! ERICKSON CHARGES SLEDGE WITH A LARIAT ... Jack Anderson: Woah! How did Sledge duck that lariat!? Jim Robson: DROP KICK BY SLEDGE! SLEDGE WITH A SIDEHEAD LOCK! Jack Anderson: What's up with that? You get all excited when Sledge does a move, but don't care when Erickson does an amazing move. Jim Robson: I don't know ... guess it's natural. Well, look at it. Sledge hasn't lost a step since he last was in the IWF/WoW, it's amazing! He looks like he was in the same form when he was going against Travers before he left. Amazing shape. Jack Anderson: LOOK AT THAT! LOOK! Jim Robson: Stop being excited when Erickson does something. Erickson is finally to his feet with Sledge still holding strong on that sidehead lock ... BACK SUPLEX BY ERICKSON AND SLEDGE STILL HOLDS ONTO THE HEADLOCK. AMAZING! Jack Anderson: C'MON ERICKSON!!!! Jim Robson: Erickson can't get the headlock off ... WAIT! BULLDOG BY SLEDGE! HERE'S A COVER! ONE .... .... .... KICKOUT! Jack Anderson: YES! LOOK AT THAT! WASN'T IT BEAUTIFUL! John Robson: Calm down, it just was a kickout. Jack Anderson: He did it so well! Jim Robson: Both men are back to their feet, and Erickson charges and WOAH! Jack Anderson: Sledge just leapfrogged and put Erickson into a hammerlock. Erickson is starting to get frustrated. Erickson grabs Sledge by the hair and he FINALLY releases the hold. Jim Robson: They both lock up again, and Erickson wins and it whips Sledge, but Sledge reverses the whip towards the turnbuckle... AND SLEDGE CHARGES AT ERICKSON AND DROPKICKS -- WHAT!? Jack Anderson: YES! SLEDGE DROPKICKS AIR! HERE'S THE COVER BY ERICKSON! ONE ... .... .... .... .... TWO ... ... ... ... KICKOUT! Jim Robson: Close call. As Sledge whipped Erickson into the turnbuckle, Sledge ran as fast as he could and went to dropkick Erickson once he hit the turnbuckle, but Erickson somehow just leaped onto the top rope, and Sledge hit the mat with the missed move, and Erickson did a moonsault. Jack Anderson: That will change the pace of this match, finally! Jim Robson: Either way, the crowd is loving the action! Jack Anderson: Erickson is going back on the offense. Jim Robson: Erickson whips Sledge into the turnbuckle AND FOLLOWS UP WITH AN AWESOME ELBOW SMASH! WOW! HE'S BEATING SLEDGE SENSELESSLY NOW! ERICKSON SETS SLEDGE ON THE SECOND ROPE BACKWARDS .... NOOOOOO!!! A GERMAN SUPLEX FROM THE SECOND ROPE! NO WAY! HERE'S COVER! ONE... .... .... .... .... .... .... .... TWO ... .... .... .... .... .... KICKOUT! Jack Anderson: What a slow count! Jim Robson: Erickson isn't too happy with the count, he's arguing it. Erickson picks up Sledge and hip tosses him OVER THE TOP ROPE TO THE GROUND! He's following him! ERICKSON HAS A CHAIR! THE REF IS TRYING TO GRAB THE CHAIR FROM ERICKSO -- WHHHHHHHHHHHHAAACCCKKKKKKKK!!!! Jack Anderson: YEAH! Jim Robson: THE REF TRIED TO GET THE CHAIR FROM ERICKSON AND ERICKSON LET GO AND THE REF SMACKED HIMSELF WITH THE CHAIR HE'S OUT! SLEDGE IS UP ... WAIT! .... WWWWHHHHHHHHAAACCCCKKKKK Jack Anderson: NOT ANYMORE! HAHAHA! Jim Robson: ERICKSON JUST NAILED SLEDGE WITH THE CHAIR! OH MY! ERICKSON IS SWAYING HIS HIPS ... NOW HE'S .... Jack Anderson: HE'S REACHING INTO HIS TIGHTS ... HE TOOK SOME MONEY ... YES! YES! ERICK - SON! ERICK - SON! Jim Robson: HE'S SHOVING MONEY DOWN SLEDGE'S THROAT. ERICKSON IS YELLING "SELLOUT!" Jack Anderson: SELL - OUT! SELL - OUT! That's is exactly what Sledge is! Jim Robson: Erickson rolls both the ref and Sledge back into the ring. Jack Anderson: Erickson is calling for something! Jim Robson: ERICKSON LIFTS SLEDGE WITH A SUPLEX ... HE'S HOLD HIM UP ... HE BOUNCES HIM OFF THE ROPES ... WOW! A SLINGSHOT SUPLEX! HERE'S A COVER! WAIT! THE REF IS STILL OUT! Jack Anderson: That won't stop Erickson! He's going to the second rope ... KNEEDROP! Jim Robson: NO! HE MISSED! SLEDGE JUST ROLLED OUT OF THE WAY! ERICKSON IS PISSED! SLEDGE IS ONTO HIS KNEE AND ERICKSON JUST KICKED SLEDGE BACK TO THE MAT WITH A LOW BLOW! THAT WAS A DIRECT SHOT ... HE'S SCREAMING IN PAIN! Jack Anderson: This reminds me of when Sledge left the federation! This is his exact face! Jim Robson: The ref is getting up. Jack Anderson: Finally. Jim Robson: Erickson picks up Sledge ... BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX! THE COVER! ONE... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... TWO... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Jack Anderson: IT'S OVER! HAHAHA! ... ... ... ... THR -- NO! NO! NO! Jim Robson: SLEDGE KICKS OUT! Jack Anderson: WHAT!? Jim Robson: Erickson isn't happy at all, he picks up Sledge AND IS SETTING HIM UP FOR A POWERBOMB ... NO! NO! SLEDGE REVERSES IT WITH A FRANKENSTEINER! HERE'S THE COVER! ONE... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... TWO... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... KICKOUT! Jim Robson: Sledge isn't wasting a time ... he's waiting for Erickson to get up ... KICK TO THE GUT! DDT! COVER! ONE... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... TWO... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... THR --- KICKOUT! Jack Anderson: This is not good! C'mon, get up Erickson! Jim Robson: Erickson doesn't know where he is! Jack Anderson: Sledge is waiting for Erickson to get up ... CRADLE! ONE... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... TWO... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... REVERSED!! ONE... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... TWO... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... THRE ... REVERSED AGAIN! ONE... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... TWO... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... THRE - WHO'S COVERING WHO!? - ... BOTH MEN KICKOUT! Jim Robson: That was close! We almost had a winner! Jack Anderson: Who!? Jim Robson: I have absolutly no clue! Anyways, Both are getting back to their feet! Jack Anderson: Here we go! Jim Robson: The grapple and a knee by to the gut by Erickson ... he whips Sledge ... SLEEPER!! SLEEPER!! Jack Anderson: GOOD NIGHT! GAME! SET! MATCH! IT'S OVER! Jim Robson: Sledge is staggering all over the ring, he's trying to stay on his feet! Jack Anderson: He can't do it! It's only a matter of time! Jim Robson: Sledge is losing his energy quickly! Jack Anderson: WHHHHHHHHHHAAATTTTTT!?!?!?!? NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Jim Robson: OH MY! AN ELBOW TO THE GUT BY SLEDGE! IT WINDED ERICKSON AND GRABS BY THE NECK!!!! SLEDGE CRUSHER!!! IT'S OVER! NO ONE GETS UP AFTER THIS MANEUVER! ONE... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... TWO... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... THRE ... ... ... ... ... EEEE!!!!! DING! DING! DING! [The bell rings.] FRANCINE: The winner of this contest is JJJJJJJJJJJOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNYYYYYY SSLLLLLLLLLLEEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDGGGGEEEEEE!!!!! Jim Robson: Well, a big win for Johnny Sledge. He's getting right back to where he left off, on top. Jack Anderson: Sadly. Jim Robson: Well, the fans love this guy, and they are showing it, and I'm sure he'll do well in his return. Jack Anderson: *sigh* ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= THE NORTH AMERICAN TITLE IS ON THE LINE... NEXT!!!!! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= [Behind Jim Robson and Jack Anderson we see Desert Scorpion take a seat. He's wearing an Elijah Flynt t-shirt, and a Jeremy Thranton hat.] Jim Robson: Well, it looks like Desert Scorpion was lucky enough to get seats behind us. Jack Anderson: What? You mean I have to put up with him behind me for the rest of the night? Jim Robson: Why not? It's his right to come watch the matches. If he wants to check out the next few matches, he's more than welcome to. He's a legend here in the IWF/WOW. Former Intercontinental Champion, former Power Alliance member, current IWF/WOW Hall of Famer. He's done it all here. Jack Anderson: Yeah, but that's all in the past. He couldn't stand up to any current wrestler in the IWF/WOW. [Suddenly, the Franchise Players, led by Johnny Spades walk down to ringside. In fact, they're pointing at Desert Scorpion as they walk over to where he is sitting.] Jim Robson: Uh - oh. This could spell trouble for Desert Scorpion. Jack Anderson: Lets hope so! [Spades, St. Clair, Arcola and Halston are all scene talking and pointing at Desert Scorpion. After a few moments, they walk directly up to him.] Jim Robson: Oh come on, why can't they leave him alone? Jack Anderson: What are they doing that is wrong? Spades is offering to shake his hand? Jim Robson: Well, Desert Scorpion doesn't know what to think. Jack Anderson: Oh come on! It's just Johnny Spades. What's the worst he could do? Jim Robson: HOLD ON!! SHANE ST. CLAIR JUST NAILED DESERT SCORPION FROM BEHIND!! MY GOD! Jack Anderson: And Johnny Spades is laughing... haha! I love this! Looks like they were about as excited about Desert Scorpion's return as I was1 Jim Robson: Johnny Spades picks up Desert Scorpion. Justin Arcola and Kenneth Halston are setting up a few chairs.... Jack Anderson: Watch this... Jim Robson: JOHNNY SPADES POWERBOMBS DESERT SCORPION ON TOP OF THE STACK OF CHAIRS!! Jack Anderson: OHH!!! YEAH!! Jim Robson: You know, Desert Scorpion hasn't been in training, so that has got to hurt a hell of a lot more than it would for a normal wrestler. Jack Anderson: Spades is picking up Desert Scorpion once again... Jim Robson: ANOTHER POWERBOMB BY JOHNNY SPADES ON DESERT SCORPION!! This time he had some help from Shane St. Clair who helped drive Desert Scorpion down even harder. Jack Anderson: They probably broke Desert Scorpion's neck! Jim Robson: Well, officials are coming out to get the Franchise Players away from Desert Scorpion as medics come to help Desert Scorpion. I'm sure he's going to have to go to the hospital, he's hurt bad. He's not even moving. Jack Anderson: This is great! What a night for the Franchise Players! They're on top of the world here tonight! [As the Franchise Players leave, medics strap Desert Scorpion to a board.] Jim Robson: You maybe right. But I'd be careful if I were them... once Jeremy Thranton hears about this, they will have hell to pay. Jack Anderson: This is incredible. Jim Robson: This is horrible... I'm speechless! [For a few moments, Robson and Anderson are quiet as Desert Scorion gets taken backstage to be taken to the hospital. The fans are all quiet, as they hope that Desert Scorpion is alright.] Jim Robson: Well, we do have to get back to action. Up next is the triple threat match for the North American Championship. Jack Anderson: Trevor Redding is set to defend his title against two men who have been interfering in each other's title matches, Alex Cote and Chris Carter. Jim Robson: That's right Jack. Cote interfered in Carter's title match costing him the title. Then Carter returned the favour. That's why we are going to see a triple threat match tonight, and there's some bad blood between the challengers. Jack Anderson: And that could swing the match in Redding's favour. Jim Robson: Maybe. Let's go up to Francine for the introductions. __ __ ___ ____ / / /\ \ \/ __\ ___| -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= \ \/ \/ / _\ |___ \ IWF/WOW NORTH AMERICAN TITLE MATCH \ /\ / / ___) | Redding vs Cote vs Carter \/ \/\/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= -----------------------> WRITER: Wade Thompson <------------------------- [The camera switches to the ring.] FRANCINE: The following contest is a Triple Threat Match, for the IWF/WOW NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPIONSHIP!!! [Crowd POPS] FRANCINE: Introducing first, challenger number one... [Lights go out as the big screen pulses "THE HAMMER" in big red letters lighting up the arena.] VOICE: Ladies and gentleman....introducing..... ["Full Nelson" by Limp Bizkit begins to play loudly over the PA system beginning with a loud guitar solo.] "WHY'S EVERYBODY ALWAYS PICKING ON ME? DOES ANYONE REALLY KNOW A THING ABOUT ME? BUT ONE OF THESE DAYS WE'LL BE IN THE SAME PLACE, IN THE SAME PLACE PUNK, AT THE VERY SAME TIME, AND WHEN IT TAKES PLACE AND YOU WANNA TALK SHIT, THEN STEP YOUR ASS UP AND SAY IT RIGHT TO MY FACE!" [As the the guitar blares through the speakers, a blast of fire burst up from the entrance illuminating the walkway as "The Hammer" Alex Cote stands in the blast, back facing the crowd.] "YOU'LL GET KNOCKED THE F^CK OUT!" [Alex spins around and looks out to the crowd with a big grin on his face as they all stand and cheer him on.] "CUZ YOUR MOUTH WRITING CHECKS THAT YOUR ASS CAN'T CASH!" [Alex's attire consist of a pair of dark blue jeans with a black tang top with "'THE HAMMER' ALEX COTE, SCARY SHIT EH?" on the front and a pair of black leather boots. covering Alex back is a long black velvet robe down to his mid calfs with "THE HAMMER" in red glittering lettering on the back. Covering Alex's hands are leather gloves cut at the knuckles and his eyes are covered my dark Oakley sunglasses.] "KNOCKED STRAIGHT THE F^CK OUT!" FRANCINE: Coming down the aisle, hailing from the "City of Brotherly Love" weighting in at a mean three hundred and twenty eight pounds of twisted steel and sex appeal, he is your lord and savior, the personification of perfection, the epitome of excellence, your hero and mine, he is....... !!!!!_"THE HAMMER"_!!!!!_ALEX_!!!!!_COTE_!!!!! [Alex hold his arms straight up in the air with a big grin on his face.] "CUZ YOUR MOUTH WRITING CHECKS THAT YOUR ASS CAN'T CASH!" [Alex slams them down at his sides as sparks fly from around him. He looks around and slowly steps his way down the aisle.] "I CAN'T BELIEVE ALL THIS SHIT YOU BE TALKING ABOUT ME. DON'T EVEN KNOW ME ENOUGH TO BE TALKING SHIT ABOUT ME. BUT ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GONNA CATCH YOU IN THE ACT, IN THE ACT RED HANDED, CAUGHT UP IN THE ACT PUNK, AND THAT'LL BE THE DAY, THE ONE AND ONLY DAY, YOU BETTER STEP YOUR ASS UP AND SAY IT RIGHT TO MY FACE!" [Alex climbs over the top rope into the ring.] "YOU'LL GET KNOCKED THE F^CK OUT!" [Alex walks over to the corner, steps out on the second rturnbuckle and looks out into the crowd. He rubs his goatee and grins.] "CUZ YOUR MOUTH WRITING CHECKS YOUR ASS CAN'T CASH!" [Alex jumps down off the turnbuckle and walks over to his corner.] "KNOCKED STRAIGHT THE F^CK OUT!" [Alex removes his robe revealing the back of his tang top which says "IF YOU WERE THIS GOOD, YOU WOULD BE ME." And a big smiley face in the background.] "CUZ YOUR MOUTHS WRITING CHECKS YOU ASS CAN'T CASH!" [Alex removes his sunglasses and throws them out in the crowd. He leans back on the corner as the music fades into nothing.] Francine: And introducing challenger number two... ["Take A Look Around" by Limp Bizkit begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd cheers as the houselights dim and on the VideoTron the screen turns silver, then a red '3' flickers on the screen, followed by a red '2', then followed by a red '1', then a red '0' flickers on the screen, then the VideoTron shuts off, as fireworks go off at the top of the entrance way, generating an even bigger pop from the fans.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Pittsburgh, PA standing 6 feet 5 inches and weighing 269 pounds, being led to the ring by Jade, he is Triple C... " C O U N T D O W N " C H R I S C A R T E R ! ! ! [The crowd cheers as Jade first steps out form behind the curtain, wearing a jade coloured evening gown. She smiles at the cheering fans, then gestures to the curtain, and out comes Triple C, wearing trunks like the one Jeff Jarret wears, that are silver with black trim and two thin stripes on both sides of the shorts, and on the butt in red letter it has a countdown "3...2...1...0!", and these are complimented with black boots and black kneepads. Chris Carter looks around the arena with a confident, but yet nervous smile on his face as he is still considered a green horn in the fed by other people, and himself. Finally Chris Carter and his girlfriend Jade make their way down to the area, with both of them interacting with the fans. Finally getting in the ring both Triple C and Jade standing in the center of the ring, with Jade standing in front of Chris Carter leaning against him with her arms folded, and Carter holds his right arm in the air, extending three fingers and 'counting down'....3 fingers...two fingers...one finger...then a clenched fist which is driven down like he is trying to punch a hole in the air, and fireworks go off above the ring and pyrotechnics shoot out from the ringposts as the crowd pops once again as CCC awaits the start of his match.] FRANCINE: And their opponent... ["BLACK" by SEVENDUST begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd boos.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Incense, Rhode Island, USA standing 6 feet 2 inches and weighing 255 pounds, here is ... THE IWF/WOW NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION!!! TREVOR REDDING!!!!! [Comes down to the ring in a long dark trenchcoat with a shaky red cross on the back. He wears tight black tights with white imprints on the ass. He has a crucifix tattooed across the back of his body. Scars up and down his body. Very thin but muscular wrestler. Muscles in the arms and chest but he's like a string bean in the meaty part of his body. Long black hair with a scar going down his eye. Will tie up his long black hair sometimes. Comes down to ring with white towel over head Vanessa wears a skimpy dress and no make up. Never looks happy. Vickie as well. Like the godfathers hoes but not glamorous. Both have two of the most beautiful sets of eyes you've ever seen, though. Before he enters the ring, he'll point a finger pistol at his head. Before match he kneels down in the center of the ring and holds up a pair of dog tags and a crucifix as red fireworks go off.] [DING!! DING!! DING!!] Jim Robson: There's the bell, and this match is under wa... And look at this!! Alex Cote went straight for Chris Carter, and the two men are hammering away at each other!!! Jack Anderson: And look at Redding, he's being smart and letting his two opponents beat the crap out of each other. Jim Robson: Cote and Carter continue to trade fists as Redding looks on. The two are beginning to slow down a little... REDDING RUNS ACROSS THE RING AND DROPS HIS CHALLENGERS WITH A TREMENDOUS CLOTHESLINE!!! The force of the blow sends Carter through the ropes, and to the floor!! Cote is pulling himself back up, but is hampered by Redding, who is laying the boots to Cote's ribs!! Jack Anderson: I think Redding should have waited a little longer. Maybe Carter or Cote would have knocked each other out and Redding could have picked which one he wanted to pin to retain the title. Jim Robson: Redding lifts Cote and shoves him into the closest corner. Redding is once again putting the boots to Cote, AND NAILS HIM WITH A HUGE RIGHT HAND!! Redding pulls Cote out of the corner, and scoops him up... Body Slam!! Redding bounces off the ropes... HUGE Elbow Drop!! Redding got a lot of elevation on that one!! Redding lifts Cote and whips him into the ropes... Cote ducks a clothesline... AND GETS BACKDROPPED OVER THE TOP ROPE AND TO THE FLOOR BY CHRIS CARTER!!! Redding turns around... RIGHT INTO A SPINNING HEEL KICK BY CARTER!!!! Jack Anderson: Where'd that little punk come from? I thought he was still out on the floor crying!! Jim Robson: Carter lifts Redding to his feet and drills him with a kneelift!! Carter holds on to Redding to keep him on his feet... TORNADO DDT!!! Carter with a cover!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . Redding kicks out!! Jack Anderson: It'll take a LOT more than that to pin Trevor Redding. Jim Robson: Carter gets up and heads for the top rope... He waits as Redding gets to his feet... MISSLE DROPKICK!!! Carter nailed Redding with that move right on the chin!!! Carter goes for a quick cover again!!! Cote is back in the ring and kicks Carter in the back of the head!! Jack Anderson: That's it!! Beat each other up some more!!! Jim Robson: Cote lifts Carter and puts him in a rear waistlock... RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX!!! Did you see Carter's head land on the mat!?!? What IMPACT!!! Jack Anderson: Yeah, but can I see it again? Fabulous!! Jim Robson: Cote lifts Redding now. Cote whips Redding into the ropes... SAMOAN DROP!!! Cote lifts Redding to his feet again. Cote whips Redding into the ropes again... TILT-A-WHIRL BACKBREAKER!!! Cote covers!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . CHRIS CARTER BREAKS UP THE PINFALL ATTEMPT WITH A FLYING LEG DROP FROM THE TOP ROPE!!! HIS LEG CAME CRASHING DOWN ACROSS THE BACK OF THE NECK OF ALEX COTE!!! Carter rolls Cote over and covers him!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . Cote kicks out!!! Jack Anderson: That was pretty close!! Jim Robson: Lots of intense action and we're very early on in the match. Carter lifts Cote and tosses him through the ropes, and to the floor!! Carter lifts Redding, and whips HIM through the ropes and to the floor!! Carter raises his arms to the crowd!! [The crowd cheer] Jim Robson: Carter stands poised, waiting... It looks like he's waiting for Redding and Cote to get up... They're both getting to their feet now... CARTER RUNS... SUICIDE DIVE OVER THE TOP ROPE AND ONTO COTE AND REDDING ON THE OUTSIDE!!! Jack Anderson: That's nuts!! Carter could have ended the match for himself if he'd missed!! Jim Robson: Carter is back on his feet. He lifts Trevor Redding and Irish whips him... REVERSED!!!... AND CARTER HITS THE RINGPOST!!! Redding waits as Cote straightens himself up... VICIOUS LARAIT DROPS COTE TO THE FLOOR!!! Jack Anderson: That's it!! Get 'em Trevor!! Jim Robson: Trevor Redding, the current North American Champion lifts Chris Carter. Redding pulls Carter around the ring towards the time keeper's table!!... [DING!!!] Jim Robson: Redding just bounced Carter's head off of the bell!!! Jack Anderson: You could say he got his bell rung!! HA!! Jim Robson: Redding now pulling Carter in our direction... Redding slams Carter's head off of our announce table!!! Redding rolls into the ring and gets to his feet, and he's met by referee Geoff Cartwright, who is admonishing Redding for his actions outside the ring. Jack Anderson: Oh c'mon!! Why else would the time keeper's bell be there? Jim Robson: For the timekeeper? Jack Anderson: Why does he need a bell? Jim Robson: I'm not getting into this with you. Carter is crawling up onto the ring apron... [CRACK!!!] Jim Robson: ALEX COTE JUST HAMMERED CARTER IN THE BACK WITH A STEEL CHAIR!!! Jack Anderson: These two don't like each other, and it's playing into Trevor Redding's hands!! Jim Robson: I'm afraid you may be right Jack. Cote has Carter, he scoops him up and slams him on the floor!!! Cartwright is outside the ring now, trying to get Carter and Cote back into the ring, where Trevor Redding is getting a rest... What the heck is THIS!?!? [The camera shows someone riding a California Highway Patrol motorcycle to ringside. He is unidentifiable because he is wearing a CHP helmet, but you can't help but think back to the tv series "CHiPs" when you see this. The man is carrying a large sack as he reaches ringside and gets off his bike. The man removes his helmet and it's Carl Lumksi!} Jack Anderson: What's Lumski doing here!?!? Jim Robson: He's sliding into the ring behind Redding... Redding turns, and the two men are brawling!!! They're trading right hands... LUNMSKI NAILS REDDING IN THE STOMACH WITH THE HELMET HE HAD IN HIS LEFT HAND!!! SWEEPS WEEK!!! LUMSKI HITS HIS VERSION OF THE STUNNER!! Jack Anderson: CARTWRIGHT!!! LOOK IN THE RING YOU IDIOT!!! Jim Robson: Lumski drags Redding over to a turnbuckle, and props him up. Lumski is going over and grabbing that bag... and he's pulling out... A CARDBOARD CUTOUT OF ERIK ESTRADA!?!? Jack Anderson: This dude ain't all there!! Jim Robson: Lumski walks over and places the cutout on Redding and backs up... Lumski charges... BASEBALL SLIDE KICK ON REDDING, SHATTERING PONCH IN THE PROCESS!!! That was like a... a... Jack Anderaon: Ponch-a-nator? Jim Robson: Yeah, that would sum it up. Lumski rolls out of the ring, and he's going into the crowd!! Jack Anderson: What about his bike!? Jim Robson: Cartwright never saw Lumski, and neither did Cote and Carter. Cote has been fighting in the first row with Carter for the last couple of minutes. Cote has Carter by the head, and he rolls him into the ring. Cote gets in as does Cartwright. Cote stops, and turns to look at Trevor Redding. Cote is asking Cartwright where the cardboard cutout of Estrada came fro, and Cartwright is shrugging his shoulders. Jack Anderson: Like it's hard to figure out. Who the hell else in the IWF/WOW would have a cardboard cutout of Erik Estrada? Jim Robson: CARTER DROPKICKS COTE IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD SENDING HIM BACK OVER THE TOP ROPE AND TO THE FLOOR!!!! Carter drags Redding into the center of the ring and heads for the top rope. Carter leaps... SWANTON BOMB!!! Carter is slow to get back up, apparantly that chair to the back did some damage!! Carter crawls over and drapes an arm on Redding!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!! REDDING KICKED OUT!!! Jack Anderson: [Phew] Jim Robson: That was very close!! Carter is up. He stands waiting for Redding to get to his feet... Redding is slowly moving onto his stomach... He's on his knees... and to his feet... THE COUNTDOWN SUPERKICK BY CARTER!!! COTE'S BEHIND CARTER!!! COTE LOCKS A SURPRISED CARTER IN A FULL NELSON... FULL NELSON SLAM!!! And a cover by Cote!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . Carter kicks out!!! Jack Anderson: These guys are getting a little tired, and they're not keeping an eye on both of their opponents. Carter has been caught a couple of times!! Jim Robson: Cote lifts Carter... Cote PRESSES Carter over his head and walks towards the ropes... COTE THROWS CARTER OUT OF THE RING!!!... AND CARTER LANDS RIBS FIRST ACROSS THE SEAT OF LUMSKI'S CHIPS MOTORCYCLE!!!! And the bike falls on Carter after he slides off the seat!!! Jack Anderson: Well, I guess we won't be seeing him involved in the match for a while!! Jim Robson: We may not see much more of Carter period!! What a throw!! Cote lifts Redding and whips him into the ropes... REVERSE ELBOW TO THE CHEST!!! Cote lifts Redding andsets him up... HANGING VERTICAL SUPLEX... AND REDDING COMES CRASHING DOWN!!! Jack Anderson: The size of Alex Cote is becoming a big factor in this match!! Jim Robson: Cote lifts Redding again... JEWEL JAB BY TREVOR REDDING!! That's ONE way to stop "The Hammer"!! Jack Anderson: The great equalizer, a punch to the nads!! Jim Robson: Redding is trying to skae off the cobwebs as Cote tries to shake off that punch to the groin!! Carter is still laying under that motorcycle that Carl Lumski left at ringside!! Jack Anderson: I don't like Lumski, but I'm glad he left that bike there. It's keeping Carter out of the match, and that's always a GOOD thing!! Jim Robson: Redding is up, and he kicks Cote square in the jaw!! Redding now lifts Alex Cote and whips him into the ropes... BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!!! Redding IS CHOKING COTE!!! Geoff Cartwright is admonishing him, and Redding lets go to argue with Cartwright!! Jack Anderson: Let him be Cartwright!! Jim Robson: Redding lifts Cote and punches him in the jaw. Redding locks Cote in a side headlock... RUNNING BULLDOG!!! Cote's face bounces HARD off the canvas!! Redding rolls him over and covers!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3! NO!!! Cote kicked out!! Jack Anderson: That was a slow count!! Jim Robson: Same as all of the other counts Jack!! Redding is up, and he rolls out of the ring. Redding grabs a chair!! Trevor Redding slides the chair into the ring, and rolls in. Redding lifts the chair and waits for Cote to stand up. Geoff Cartwright is warning Redding not to use the chair... REDDING SWINGS, BUT THE SHOT IS DUCKED BY COTE!!! COTE DROPS REDDING TO THE FLOOR WITH A HUGE CLOTHESLINE!!!! Jack Anderson: NO!! C'mon Redding fight back!! Jim Robson: Cote has the chair in his hands now!! CARTWRIGHT RIPS IT OUT OF COTE'S HANDS!! Cote is arguing with Cartwright!! Redding from behind with a High Knee!! COTE IS SENT FALLING INTO THE CORNER, SQUISHING CARTWRIGHT AND SMACKING THEIR HEADS OFF THAT CHAIR!!! Jack Anderson: YES!! Jim Robson: Redding lifts grabs the chair as Cote staggers out of the corner... [CRACK!!!] Jim Robson: TREVOR REDDING PASTES COTE ACROSS THE SKULL WITH THAT STEEL CHAIR!!! Cote drops to one knee... REDDING SLMAS THAT CHAIR ACROSS COTE'S FACE ONE MORE TIME!!! COTE IS DOWN!!! Jack Anderson: WAKE UP CARTWRIGHT!!! Redding can;t pin Cote, because Cartwright is still out of it!! Jim Robson: CARTER IS BACK IN THE RING!!! CARTER HAS FINALLY GOTTEN UP!! HE STEALS THE CHAIR OUT OF REDDING'S HANDS!! REDDING TURNS AROUND, SHOCKED... [CRACK!!!!] Jim Robson: CARTER JUST LEVELED REDDING WITH THAT CHAIR SHOT!!! Carter throws the chair on the mat and lifts Redding to his feet. Carter puts Redding in a rear waistlock... GERMAN SUPLEX ONTO THE CHAIR!!! Jack Anderson: Cartwright!! Wake up and disqualify Carter!!! Jim Robson: Carter slides the chair out of the ring and heads for the top rope!! Carter stands poised, and leaps... FROG SPLASH!!! CARTER JUMPS UP IN PAIN, HIS RIBS MUST BE INJURED!! Jack Anderson: Good!! Jim Robson: Carter wouldn't have been able to go for a pin anyways, because referee Geoff Cartwright is just now starting to move!! But we have carnage in the ring!! Carter is holding his ribs, Redding is down, Cote is down!! Jack Anderson: And Cartwright is finally getting up!! Jim Robson: Carter sees Cartwright and quickly covers Redding!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO!!!! REDDING KICKED OUT!!!! Jack Anderson: Carter almost had the North American Title there!! Jim Robson: Carter crawls over and covers Cote!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!! NO AGAIN!!!! COTE KICKED OUT!!!!! Jack Anderson: Wow, that was close too!!! Jim Robson: Carter lifts Cote and whips him into the ropes... HURRICANRANA!!! NO!!!!! COTE REVERSES IT INTO A SITDOWN POWERBOMB!!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!! NO!!!!!! REDDING BREAKS UP THE COUNT!!! Jack Anderson: That Powerbomb really hurt Carter's ribs!! Jim Robson: That was a HIGH impact move. Cote's over three hundred ponuds, and he's strong!! Redding lifts Cote and whips him into the turnbuckle!! Redding turns and lifts Carter. Redding sets him up... VERTICAL SUPLEX... NO... REDDING'S HOLDING HIM UP... BRAINBUSTER!!!! Jack Anderson: Carter's going to be in rough shape tomorrow!! Jim Robson: Redding lifts Carter and sets him up... DDT!!! Here's a cover!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . COTE DROPS AN ELBOW ACROSS THE BACK OF REDDING'S HEAD!!! Jack Anderson: How many near falls can we have!?!?!? Jim Robson: A lot if there's always 3 guys in the ring!! Cote lifts Redding and sets him up... OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!!!! Cote gets up... CARTER DROPKICKS COTE IN THE BACK, AND SENDS HIM THROUGH THE ROPES, AND TO THE FLOOR!!! Chris Carter gets back up as Redding rises to his feet... THE COUNTDOWN SUPERKICK AGAIN!!! Carter lifts Redding and sets him up... POWERBOMB!!! CARTER HOLDS ON AND LIFTS REDDING AGAIN... POWERBOMB!!! CARTER HOLDS ON AGAIN, AND LIFTS... HE'S STRUGGLING WITH THOSE SORE RIBS... THIRD POWERBOMB!!! Jack Anderson: NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!! Jim Robson: Carter holds on and lifts with everything he's got... BUT HE DROPS REDDING!! THE RIBS ARE TOO SORE TO FINISH THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!!! CARTER LIFTS REDDING TO HIS FEET AND PUTS HIM IN A FIREMAN'S CARRY!!... DEATH VALLEY DRIVER!!! _THAT_ FINISHES THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!!! CARTER COVERS REDDING!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WE HAVE A NEW NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!! COTE BROKE UP THE PIN JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME!!!! Jack Anderson: OH MY!! Carter was MILLIMETRES away!! Thank Gawd Cote broke it up!!! Jim Robson: Cote lifts Carter off of Redding and whips him into the ropes... CARTER HITS COTE WITH A FLYING FOREARM!!! Cote staggers back into the ropes, but stays on his feet!!! Carter charges at him!!... HOLY SHIT!!!! LOOK OUT JACK!!!! [The camera catches Cote backdropping Carter HIGH over the top rope. Carter rotates a full 360 degrees and comes crashing down, almost with an elbow drop kind of positioning, through the announce table. The camera has Robson and Anderson standing off to the sides of the table with their mouths open, a chair in one hand, and a monitor in the other. There is a MONSTER crowd pop.] Jim Robson: OH MY GAWD!!! COTE JUST _LAUNCHED_ CARTER OVER THE ROPES AND ABOUT 10 FEET OUT FROM THE RING, RIGHT THROUGH OUR TABLE!! CARTER IS HURT!!! Jack Anderson: Are we on? That was UNBELIEVABLE!!! Jim Robson: Cote goes back over to Redding and lifts him up... MILITARY PRESS INTO A POWERSLAM!!! COTE NAILS REDDING WITH SWEET VENGEANCE!!!! Cote gets up and climbs the ropes... THE COTE DIVING DRIVING ELBOW!!! HE COVERS!!! THERE'S NO CARTER TO SAVE REDDING!!! 1 . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! COTE IS THE NEW NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION!!! [DING!! DING!! DING!!] FRANCINE: The winner, and NEW IWF/WOW NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION, "THE HAMMER" ALEX COTE!!!!! Jim Robson: What a win for Alex Cote as he finally wins the North American title! Jack Anderson: How could anyone beat Redding? He's been unbeatable1 Jim Robson: Maybe so, but tonight was Cote's night! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= NEW NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION! AND THERE WILL BE A NEW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION TOO, NEXT! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= [The camera pans around the ringside, a lingering shot of a ladder in the aisle, then cuts to the IWF/WOW Intercontinental Championship belt suspended twenty feet above the ring.] Jack Anderson: And the evening continues to roll along as we are just ONE match away from crowning Eric Travers the World Champ!!! Jim Robson: You seem dead certain of that... Jack Anderson: *laughs* With good reason m'man... good reason! As The Epic One stated last Monday, he's got someone on HIS side! Boo ya! Jim Robson: Do you happen to know just who it will be, has Eric leaked it to you? Jack Anderson: Unfortunately, no. I'm just in the dark as you. The important thing is that SOMEONE will be helping my man out! However, before we get to that, we got this match peeps... and it's all down and about ONE thing... THE FRANCHISE PLAY-AH'S!!! Jim Robson: I agree, it IS about the "Players"... Folks, fans all over the world, we are LIVE from the sold out Corel Centre as we head into the Intercontinental Title match, it's been a long, wild ride, but we are finally going to crown a NEW champion after Hightower vacated the title at Christmas Madness due to his World Title win. Jack Anderson: And not JUST any ol' match at that... we're talking one mother of a ladder added to the mixture peeps!!! Hot dan! Jim Robson: So sit back, pop open your favourite choice of beverage, and throw away the remote... you DO NOT want to miss this one... Jack Anderson: Maybe put a warning, "NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH", or something... These things alway, ALWAYS, get out of hand... __ __ ___ ____ / / /\ \ \/ __\ ___| -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= \ \/ \/ / _\ |___ \ IC TITLE TOURNAMENT FINALS - LADDER MATCH \ /\ / / ___) | Spades vs St. Clair \/ \/\/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= -------------------------> WRITER: Peter Bell <-------------------------- FRANCINE: This match is for the Intercontinental Championship! It is a LADDER MATCH!!! [The fans make like frenzied monkeys at the thought of ladders!] FRANCINE: Introducing first... he beat Charlie Vahn earlier tonight... ["Wait and Bleed" by Slipknot begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd boo's loudly.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Jacksonville, FL standing 6 feet 1 inches and weighing 270 pounds, here is ... "The Headliner" SSSHHHAAANNNEEE ST. CLAIR!!!!!!! Crowd: BBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! [St. Clair is dressed in a pair of yellow wrestling tights that cling tightly to his lower thighs. Black boots with black laces that reach just below his calf. His short brown hair is wet down, with only a faint hint of blonde highlight showing through. His face is decorated with a pair of black sunglasses, and a brown goatee. His wrist are taped with black athletic tape that stops at his forearm. He slowly moves down the aisle way, the lovely Regina hanging off his arm. Regina is dressed in skin tight black leather pants, with a leopard print top. Her long brown hair hangs shoulder length touching her back. As St. Clair arrives at ring side he pulls himself on the ring apron and holds open the second rope. Regina steps between the open ropes and walks to the center of the ring awaiting her man. St. Clair walks to the center of the ring, as Regina removes his sunglasses. She smiles at him, and exits the ring.] Jack Anderson: WHAT is up with all the peeps?! This is a FAN-FREAKIN'-TASTIC match-up!!! Jim Robson: You would say that with St. Clair and this man... FRANCINE: His opponent... he beat Sean Eden earlier tonight... [The lights dim as purple strobe lights flash through the complex. A low bass starts to rumble through the building making the fans stand to their feet and take notice.] Jack Anderson: Kids love him! Jim Robson: Oh please. FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Las Vegas, Nevada, standing 6 feet 8 inches and weighing 285 pounds, here is ... JOHNNY SSSPPPAAADDDEEESSS!!!!!!! [The entranceway suddenly disappears as purple pyros engulf the whole stage. The lyrics of "Drop a Gem on Em" begins to thunder through the building and the fans hail down hate!] Jim Robson: Neither man too popular here tonight... or any other night for that matter. Jack Anderson: Wrestling ain't a popularity contest! # It's the infamous back in the house once again Livin the life that of diamonds and guns and now gems pulls gats like a basehead pulls on stems the Mobb got the bomb run out and tell a friend Drop A Gem On Em.. # [As the chorus comes to an end the pyros subside. The boos get louder as Johnny Spades walks to the top of the entranceway decked out in his usual attire of black knee pads,black elbow pads, black boots with J.S written in old English, black trunks with a skull wearing a jokers cap on the front and "Spades" written on the back in white old English. Covering his muscular torso is a black T-shirt with the skull wearing a jokers cap logo on the front and the phrase "Don't Hate Greatness" on the back in white old English. A cocky snarl is on his face as he scans the crowd.] # Sick 'n tired, all these fake crooks need to retire they gotcha gassed, takin back and snatch fire outcha maggot ass, Havoc represent for the Q-B-C smoke that ass like a lucie..tho I need to quit f*** it, I love it like a cloud over the projects your game Im above it its combat, gats bangers and all that you'se a small cat, whatever you on get off that # [Spades shakes he head then walks slowly down to the ring. That cocky sneer still etched across his face.] # I mention, nuthin but the real sh** presentin the hollow tip crew 41st side convention try for? you half-steppin like a fresh tec out of the box yo ni**** I'm testin (There's no question) bitch ass have you confessin like a D-T left in state of depression # [Spades walks up the steps then looks at the crowd once again before dipping through the ropes. Now the purple lights only flash in the ring as Spades swiftly climbs to the second turnbuckle.] # You under pressure, intact no doubt catcher the snitch-snatcher tookin wit asthma you casper, you yell my name thats only givin me props plus the fans that you got, wonderin whats got you hot its too not, knocked out the box and got rocked got raped on the Island, you officially got kick that thug shit, Vibe magazine on some love shit (keep it real kid, you don't know who you f***in wit) # [Spades raises his arms in the air getting a huge heel pop. It doesn't seem to faze him. Actually he seems to like it as a devilish grin spreads across his face.] # It's the Infamous back in the house once again Livin the life that of diamonds and guns and now gems pull gats like a basehead pull on stems the Mobb got the bomb run out and tell a friend Drop A Gem On Em # [The lights come back on and the music slowly dies. Spades climbs down, rips off his T-shirt and throws it to ringside.] Jim Robson: Well, this out to be hard for you to decide WHOM is better or going to win, eh, Jack? Jack Anderson: Yeah, yeah... frankly, I'm just pumped that my boys are in it! Yes indeedy! Hey, I'm happy if Johnny wins, and I'm happy if Shane wins... it's win-win for me bay-bee! [Both wrestlers turn and look near the ramp ... the crowd boos as security forces its way down, Justin Arcola and Kenneth Halston between the big, burly men. Halston and Arcola throw out two paying customers and sit at ringside, near the entrance ramp. The Franchise Players nod to one another.] Jim Robson: AND ARCOLA HAS A LOUISVILLE SLUGGER!!! Jack Anderson: Hey, my boyz are just protecting their interests. Jim Robson: I tell you, I'm thoroughly disgusted with Kenneth Halston, I even question wether he's even got that commissioner status! This isn't right!! This isn't fair!! And, yes, the only reason St. Clair is even in this match folks, is due to his heinous, and I mean HEINOUS, attack on Vahn with a shovel! Jack Anderson: All's fair in love and war, Jimbo! Jim Robson: Oh brother... now you're throwing me hackneyed quotes?! What I question is WHO will let WHOM win... both these men are stable-mates, you have to believe one man will lay down in this match and turn it into a farce! Jack Anderson: On the other hand, even as much as I like these two, there's gold on the line here... never underestimate the power greed holds over people, or the drive to succeed. Jim Robson: Yes, that is quite true. [Johnny Spades and Shane St. Clair, move back into the ring, both moving to the center of it, and doing typical pre-match "wrestler things"... a twitch here, a crack of the neck there, a shaking of the wrist and hand; things to alleviate the butterflies and exhilaration.] Jack Anderson: Both my guys look good to go, as our ever diligent ref, Miguel Hernandez, the official on this match, waves for the bell! Jim Robson: I think it was a damn good call to have Hernandez officiate this one, as he's the only ref on our staff who can measure up to our roster member's height and mass... also the only one with prior wrestling experience. Jack Anderson: Yeah, I agree... much to my astonishment, but nevertheless, I think Miguel is a solid call, only one who could probably contain this match if it gets out of hand... Johnny and Shane are two big tough customers! * DING! DING! DING! * Jim Robson: Spades with the height advantage here folks, by seven inches, almost a foot! That should come to play as he will enjoy the benefit of a longer reach... However, Shane St. Clair carries one of the most MASSIVE builds I've yet to see in this industry! He maybe riddled with innumerable amounts of steroids, but that gives him a significantly larger advantage in terms of strength, and not only that but in sheer rage as well... Jack Anderson: Nobody said 'roids don't have their drawbacks... [Collar and elbow tie-up as both Franchise Players storm at each other. Muscles tense and twitch, both mens' biceps bulge as they struggle to wrest control from one another.] Jim Robson: Neither man giving ground here... Jack Anderson: Speak of the devil! The Headliner just shoved The Great One away! Jim Robson: That strength coming in to play right at the beginning... Both men charge in again and lock up once more! [Both wrestlers bare gritted teeth, straining and pushing their bodies.] * WHOOM! * Jack Anderson: WOAH! Shane shoves Johnny down to the canvas... HARD!! [Johnny Spades gets back up and smirks a bit... The Headliner lifts his arms up in the air.] Jim Robson: A little bit of showboating here... [Johnny Spades' face turns a little cold and subsequently fires off a punch at Shane St. Clair...] Jack Anderson: Shane fires back! Johnny retaliates! [A wild slugfest ensues with both men hammering away.] Jim Robson: I don't know if Spades was miffed about being showed up or what, but these two are definitely NOT laying down for one another! Jack Anderson: That's the thing about the Franchise Players, they get straight down to business! Wether it's fighting each other or their enemies, it's all about winning! Yeah, they're buds, but this belt is beyond "buddy-buddy" friendships! [The Headliner backs Spades against the ropes with his punches, then whips him across.] Jim Robson: Spades on the rebound... St. Clair reaches up... SPINE... NO! Spades counters by driving Shane's head into his knee! St. Clair whips backwards... Spades grabs... SNAP SUPLEX!!! OH MAN!!! With authority even! Jack Anderson: I like Johnny, he's one of those proverbial "big men" of wrestling, but he's also smart and savvy, and goes far beyond the stereotypical... "big boot to the head" shtick! Jim Robson: Spades is a phenomenal athlete, I agree. However, his personality I have NO respect or like for! [St. Clair clutches his back, but still quickly rises to his feet... Johnny Spades is already on his. Spades winds up but The Headliner spins around and blocks it.] Jim Robson: Forearm shot by St. Clair... Spades staggers back... ANOTHER stiff forearm shot to the side of Johnny's head, aimed at his temple! A THIRD!!! [The powerful blows, and the force of the man behind them, makes Spades slightly woozy - not a whole lot, but a bit. Shane St. Clair bounces off the ropes...] Jack Anderson: Shoulder block by Shane plants Johnny onto his back! Hey, nobody said The Headliner was flashy, but he gets the job done! Jim Robson: Spades quickly to his feet! St. Clair grabs Spades by the arm... SHORT ARM... Jack Anderson: Johnny steps aside and turns it into a wristlock, ducking the clothesline... WOW! Jim Robson: Spades still holds the wristlock as he steps behind St. Clair... Shoulder Arm Breaker!!! [The Headliner winces and grabs at his left arm/elbow region and staggers forward a bit. Spades spins around and charges and jumps, planting a knee to the back of St. Clair and sending him face first into the corner. The Headliner stumbles backwards as Spades fires a shoulder into him, sandwiching St. Clair between the corner.] Jim Robson: Spades with the momentum as he smashes St. Clair face first into the top buckle! * WHAM * * WHAM * * WHAM * [The Headliner shakes his head slightly, as the effects seem to enrage him.] Jim Robson: Spades with St. Clair's head for a fourth... BLOCKED!!! St. Clair fires a back elbow into Spades kisser! Spades attempts the face smash again... BLOCKED!!! [Males around the world, UNITE!!!] Jack Anderson: Oh gee... tender area! Tender area! Jim Robson: A backwards kick by St. Clair to Spades', err, genitals. Jack Anderson: Even THAT will send Johnny clutching... [Indeed, Johnny grabs his nuts and begins to slouch forward...] Jim Robson: ACE CRUSHER BY ST. CLAIR!!! [Johnny Spades head snaps backwards after the impact to the mat, while The Headliner gets off his bum and quickly reaches over and hooks the leg for a cover, then immediately lets go, realization dawning on his face.] Jack Anderson: Don't know if it's the steroids or not, but St. Clair almost went for a pin attempt... okay, he did, BUT, he was smart enough to realize it before he made a fool of himself! Jim Robson: Well, the competitors are by and large, not used to ladder matches... these aren't weekly events, it's only natural for some confusion. And while Miguel Hernandez is the official for this match, he is primarily a bystander... Jack Anderson: Yeah, yeah, yeah. To make sure no funny stuff happens and things don't get out of hand... I say, LET THEM GO AT IT!!! Let it all hang out! Heh! Jim Robson: St. Clair, taking advantage of Spades' condition, rolls out of the ring and heads to the aisle! Jack Anderson: You know what this means! Jack and Jim [in unison]: LADDER TIME!!! Jack Anderson: Hey, that's pretty good... Jim Robson: Great minds think alike, heh! Jack Anderson: Good gawd no! Don't you dare lump my intellect in with yours! Jim Robson: Quite correct, yours belongs in a septic tank or along the side of a road... Jack Anderson: Hah hah ha... you're so frickin' funny. *mumbles* loser. [St. Clair is on his way back to the ring with the ladder.] Jim Robson: That's a FIFTEEN FOOT STEEL LADDER folks... this is one ladder match that may not be forgotten... and the Intercontinental belt is TWENTY FEET above the ring! Jack Anderson: HOT DAMN!!! [Meanwhile Spades has gotten to his feet, shaking off the cobwebs. Looking over his shoulder, he sees St. Clair with the ladder...] Jim Robson: OOOHHH MY!!! [Even the crowd "oooh's" as Johnny Spades springboards off the ropes...] Jack Anderson: HOLY CRAP!!! MY BOY NAILS A PLANCHA!!! * CRASH! * [A neat pop from the crowd for the move as Spades lands atop the ladder and onto St. Clair, sending them both to the concrete below. Spades rolls off, clutching at his abdomen and rib cage.] Jim Robson: Good lord! Jack Anderson: More to Johnny Spades than meets the eye! Jim Robson: Has he been a robot in disguise? I mean, I am impressed! For the most part, up 'til tonight, we have seen Spades be ruthless, vicious with power and brawling... Jack Anderson: Ah, but you missed his try-out back in October, he's not some one trick pony! Jim Robson: Like St. Clair? Heh. Jack Anderson: BAH! M'man Shane does need anything but his raw power! Johnny however, is just plain AWESOME! Jim Robson: Speaking of both competitors, they are slowly making their way to their feet... Spades' ribs can't be too healthy at this point, and by the looks of St. Clair rubbing the back of his head, well, each man has taken a bruising. [St. Clair grabs Spades and whips him into the aisle guardrail.] * CLANG! * [The Headliner lunges...] Jim Robson: BOOT TO THE FACE!!! Spades barely got that one up... and St. Clair is spun around! Spades from behind... HIPTOSS BY ST. CLAIR!!! [Hitting concrete. The Headliner immediately drops an elbow to the sternum and quickly gets back up and starts laying into Spades' ribs. St. Clair's face radiates rage, almost like a wild man as he continues to lay into his stable-mate.] Jack Anderson: "The Headliner" Shane St. Clair... there's a guy you don't want to tick off. Although I'm assuming he's taken his dosage today and feeling quite spry! Jim Robson: Stable-mate or not, these two are playing for keeps! [As St. Clair lays in with kicks, Spades gets an arm around the foot and lifts.] * crash * Jack Anderson: And down goes Shane, hitting the ladder! Jim Robson: Desperation on the part of Spades! [Spades rolls over onto his knees, one hand on the floor and the other clutching his ribs. The Headliner pulls himself up with the guardrail then walks over and drills a fist into Spades' lower back region.] Jim Robson: KIDNEY SHOT!!! And Spades goes down face first! Jack Anderson: Well, yeah, these guys are definitely NOT concerned about who wins it, each of 'em wants this Intercontinental belt BAD! Jim Robson: St. Clair straddles Spades' backside... WHEELBARROW SUPLE... MMMAAANNN!!!!!!! * CRUNCH!!! * [The back of St. Clair's head and neck hits the lower portion of the railing as Spades is brought up and over, but Spades is folded like an accordion against the guardrail. Sick pop.] Jack Anderson: That... that was nasty. Yeesh. Jim Robson: Spades is not moving... and neither is "The Headliner", Shane St. Clair. Both took a nasty bump there. Jack Anderson: Damn rights Jimmy! Jim Robson: Justin Arcola and Kenneth Halston look on from their nearby vantage point... neither of them interfering to show favouritism. Jack Anderson: The Franchise Play-ah's know what they're doing. [St. Clair rubs his head, and slowly pushes Spades off, then gets to his feet.] Jim Robson: St. Clair is up! If he can get that ladder to the ring, he may have a shot at getting that belt! Jack Anderson: That's another thing... there's FIVE FEET separating the top height of the ladder from the Intercontinental belt itself! This ain't no easy task! Damn, I almost think President Jurkschat did this on purpose when both Johnny and Shane got to the finals! They're gonna frickin' kill themselves! You can't miss a jump too many times! Jim Robson: This is true... St. Clair grabbing the ladder!!! He walks with it to the ring and tosses it over the ropes! Jack Anderson: Easy feat when you're Shane. Jim Robson: St. Clair setting it up in the middle of the ring... he begins to ascend... hoo boy, you're right. THAT IS A DAMN LONG WAY TO GO!!! Jack Anderson: IWF/WOW, don't watch us if you're squeamish! Jim Robson: St. Clair half way up... and he clutches his head. That bump from a few minutes ago appears to be lingering... as if there was any doubt of that. WOAH!!! [The Headliner, up ten feet of the ladder, seems to suffer from some vertigo due to the bump, and consequently almost falls backwards... the fans gasp...] Jack Anderson: Shane hangs on! [And breathes heavily against the ladder, even closing his eyes to block out the dizzy spell.] Jim Robson: GOOD LORD!!! Jack Anderson: Don't count either of these men out! [Spades crawls to the ring, then pulls himself onto the apron and rolls through the bottom rope.] Jim Robson: Spades is hurt, he's tired, he's already likely injured his ribs, neck, and back, but he's showing some fortitude! Despite my personal thoughts of him as a human being. [St. Clair opens his eyes, face against the ladder... looks behind him, sees Spades, and continues his ascent.] Jim Robson: He's continuing?! Lord have mercy... Jack Anderson: Well, he's up ten feet, why go back down when you're so close to the gold? Jim Robson: Spades is to his feet... groggily! [The Headliner reaches the last step with his hand...] Jim Robson: Spades climbing the closest corner... [Shane looks behind him, sees Spade on the top turnbuckle... the fans are on their feet - who cares if they hate these guys, freakin' ladder match man!] Jack Anderson: WOAH!!! [The Headliner places a hand on each side of the ladder and slides down for a quick descent...] Jim Robson: GOOD LORD NO!!! [Spades flies off and missile dropkicks the lower portion of the ladder. St. Clair is halfway down. The fans go silent as the ladder weebles and wobbles before finally tipping over to the right. Cameras flash. St. Clair leaps off as the ladder falls. Spades gets to his knees.] Jack Anderson: WOW!!! Jim Robson: MOTHER OF MERCY!!! [St. Clair lands atop the back of Spades with a diving elbow. The ladder tumbles out of the ring and to the outside. The fans deliver a thunderous pop! Spades writhes around like a rabies victim, clutching his back. St. Clair rolls onto his back and grabs his right elbow.] Jim Robson: LLLOOORRRDDD WHAT A DISPLAY!!! Jack Anderson: Sad to say, this could seriously damage both my boys' careers... this is just plain nuts! On the other hand, I love it! Heh heh heh! Jim Robson: That was not some elbow off the top rope... that was almost straight down onto Spades' back and delivered with the weight of St. Clair! Lord, that was stiff!!! Jack Anderson: Maybe we should point out that since this IS a ladder match, that there is no time limit on this sucker? Jim Robson: I believe you just stated it, but yes folks, this match will continue for however long it takes to decide a new Intercontinental Champion! Jack Anderson: What if it goes two hours? Jim Robson: That is possible! There haven't been too many matches that have gone on for that length of time, let alone in the IWF/WOW, but anything is possible! Jack Anderson: I mean, by the look of both Shane and Johnny, they're really taking their time! Jim Robson: Wouldn't you if you were one of them? After that hellacious display?! Jack Anderson: Good point. [As we take a brief respite, the screen shows Arcola and Halston seated, concerned and approving of the display all at once, then cuts back to the ring, before once again switching, this time to the announce team.] Jim Robson: I have this feeling that this match goes beyond merely two Franchise Players' battle for the Intercontinental Championship. I almost wonder if this will determine who LEADS the Franchise Players! Jack Anderson: Never thought of it, but yeah, that's a good point... mind you, it doesn't matter WHO leads or WHO wins. These are the Franchise Play-ah's bay-bee! It's all good to me! Both guys have that leader-thing going for them... Jim Robson: It will be interesting to see how this will play out, that is for damn sure! Although I do question your choice of St. Clair as the Alpha Wolf... [Both men go silent for a bit and we switch back to the ring. Spades lays on his stomach, hands on his back, and kicking the mat in pain. St. Clair slowly rises to his feet, grimacing from the pain in his elbow.] Jim Robson: St. Clair testing out that elbow... Jack Anderson: It's fine, trust me, he's like totally in shape and fit... Jim Robson: And a walking spokesman for the Olympics! Jack Anderson: Thank god we don't take urine samples here in Eye-Dubya! [St. Claire cracks his neck side to side then walks over to Spades, lifting him up by the hair...] Jim Robson: Front face lock applied. St. Claire lifts Spades up into a sup... NO! St. Clair let's go and Spades stumbles back! That elbow not working at this moment. [Spades leans backwards against the ropes, as The Headliner rings out his left arm, shaking out the pain.] Jim Robson: St. Clair measure Spades up... * SMACK! * Crowd: WWWWHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! * SMACK! * Crowd: WWWWHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! * SMACK! * Crowd: WWWWHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Jack Anderson: I mean, Shane's cool and all that, but really, where'd this yell come from any ways? Seems like it's some kinda tradition. Jim Robson: I believe our one and only president, Chris Jurkschat, conducted an Internet chat a couple days ago... from what I was told it started with a former wrestler of ours! Jack Anderson: Quit pullin' my chain! Jim Robson: No, I'm serious, it started with Sex Machine Slade, way back in the fall of 1996! Order an old Pay Per View from our website, you'll see what I mean. Jack Anderson: Yeah... but I coulda swore I heard it before from someone... [Meanwhile, St. Clair stopped after those three Knife Hand Chops, leaving Spades chest an interesting mixture of red and purple (and yes, they were done with his good arm). Spades arms became entangled in the ropes and St. Clair delivered a couple kicks to the midsection before exiting the ring, then walked around to the other side and, once more, grabbed the ladder.] Jim Robson: Back to the match, St. Clair with the ladder! He slides it into the ring and climbs up in after. Oh no... St. Clair now places the ladder so it leans across the corner at an angle! Jack Anderson: There he goes, and he unties Johnny, firing him into the opposite corner - clear of the ladder! BIG RUNNING CLOTHESLINE!!! Jim Robson: St. Clair immediately whips Spades into the corner WITH the ladder... REVERSED BY SPADES... NO!!! SPADES COUNTERS WITH A SHORT ARMED LARIAT!!! [St. Clair crashes to the canvas as Spades catches his breath, but it's not for long as Spades picks up his teammate and slings him over his shoulder... then runs and heads to the ladder.] Jim Robson: GOOD LORD!!! * CLANG!!! * [Spades hangs on after banging St. Clair against the ladder then turns around and powerslams him to the mat in one quick fluid motion.] Jack Anderson: Oh yeah! WHAT THE?!! Jim Robson: I'm sure in Spades case he's running on instinct... [Yeah, he hangs on for the cover, but Hernandez reminds him it's a ladder match. Spades gets back to his feet...] Jack Anderson: There you go, Johnny! Get the ladder! Jim Robson: Sets it up and begins to scale it! [St. Clair stirs and sits up... dazed. Looks up, and see's Johnny Spades climbing towards the belt.] Jack Anderson: Shane's up! Crap, I'm really torn on who to cheer... ah well, that's a good thing, I don't get too many matches where I like both guys... this is cool! Jim Robson: Savour the feeling, Jack, savour the feeling. Any ways, St. Claire gets to his feet and commence to climb up after Spades! [Actually pretty fast too it seems. In no time The Headliner grabs Spades' by the foot and yanks... but Spades kicks St. Clair's hand and continues up.] Jim Robson: Both men are on the ladder, I'd say a good 12 feet above the mat... close to the top. [St. Clair goes to grab Spades by the foot, but Spades, looking down, sees it and lifts it out of his reach. Rapidly, St. Clair grabs the ladder, then with his other hand he makes a ball and nails Spades in the nads.] Crowd: OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Jack Anderson: Groan is right! Jim Robson: OH MY!!! [Spades struggles to hold on to the ladder...] Jack Anderson: Shane moving quickly up! Jim Robson: Shane reaches around Spades' waist... MY GOD!!! [The Headliner jumps backwards with Spades...] Jack Anderson: OFF THE FING LADDER!!! [German suplex to canvas near 15 feet below!] * KKKAAA - WWWHHHAAAAAAAAAAMMM!!!!!! * Jim Robson: SWEET ... [Both St. Clair and Spades bounce OFF the mat about three feet in the air, getting flipped over in the process!] Jim Robson: MOTHER ... [The fans EXPLODE with a "crap that's cool" pop!] Jim Robson: OF ... [The wrestlers lay motionless as flashes from cameras sing out in unison.] Jim Robson: PEARL!!!!!!! [The whole Corel Centre are still in awe!] Jack Anderson: Damn... talk about a quick career killer. Jim Robson: I hope to God that these two men aren't seriously hurt, let alone their careers ruined! I just cannot believe Shane St. Clair did that! Let alone even thought of it! It's not a normal German Suplex... that's almost fifteen feet straight down to the mat itself! Good lord they could've been killed! Jack Anderson: By product of the match itself. My memory's a little hazy, but I can't remember any prior ladder matches here in Eye-Dubya... maybe there WAS one at one point, but I've long forgotten. Regardless, this IS a ladder match, Jurkschat knew what he was getting into when he announced this! BUY-RATE!!! Jim Robson: It may be just that, buy rate. [The announcers, and even the crowd, go silent. Miguel checks on the two wrestlers to make sure they are both "alive and breathing". Close up of both Shane St. Clair and Johnny Spades, not far from one another, each with their eyes shut and breathing labored.] Jack Anderson: Like I was saying... IWF/WOW ain't for the faint of heart! [The excitement from the move has long worn off as the fans genuinely appear to be concerned.] Jim Robson: I wonder if our esteemed president, Jurkschat, will even stop this thing! Will he allow this match to continue if both men continue to take extremely dangerous falls like that AGAIN?! Or is it about the money, the buy rate?! Does the dollar dictate our president's decisions?! Jack Anderson: What's good for ratings is good for the pocket! Jim Robson: Deplorable! You say some really asinine things you know, Jack! Jack Anderson: Ah, blow me. [Silence for a couple minutes as we watch the limp and still bodies of St. Clair and Spades.] Jim Robson: If this match is MORE than just about the Intercontinental title, that it's about leadership, I just wonder WHO will leave this match in a suitable condition to actually LEAD The Franchise Players?! From the looks of things thus far, neither man will win without an abundance of pain! Jack Anderson: I'm curious to see their pain thresholds... could be interesting. Heh, IF they can even recover as it is. Jim Robson: SPEAK OF THE DEVIL!!! [Both men begin to show signs of movement.] Jack Anderson: Well, they're not exactly full of vim and vigour, but they're still kicking. Jim Robson: Thank goodness. [It still seems, and probably is, some considerable time before the two begin to start the first stages of "getting to one's feet". Slowly, but surely, they do. Both wrestlers stare at one another with groggy eyes and then advance, stumbling, to one another.] Jack Anderson: Yikes... this is a rather pitiful punch exchange... half them are missing the mark! Jim Robson: St. Clair nails a good left hook, sending Spades reeling backwards... St. Clair with a scoop... hangs on... RUNNING SHOULDER BREAKER!!! Jack Anderson: Not bad. [The Headliner, down on one knee, pants heavily.] Jim Robson: St. Clair to his feet... drives a knee down on to the forehead of Johnny Spades!!! Now our steroid enhanced superstar hammers away relentlessly with massive fists down atop Spades head!!! [Keeps this up for a bit, then backs off and stands to his feet. With a sneer, Shane St. Clair plants the heel of his right boot atop Spades' face.] Jack Anderson: Spinning Boot Scrape! Jim Robson: Not terribly scientific... Jack Anderson: But it gets the job done! Jim Robson: Somehow I KNEW you were going to say that. Back to the match that has resumed... St. Clair lifts Spades to his feet and into a Fireman's Carry... FLAPJACK!!! Jack Anderson: As much as I like Johnny, he can't be feelin' too good after all this crap... Jim Robson: St. Clair helps his stable-mate up, once again. OH MY!!! St. Clair shoves Spades against the ladder! [The ladder falls backwards, folding up and landing against the ropes at a low angle... Spades falls atop it, arms and legs spread out. Shane walks over and turns Spades over, so his head hangs over one of the steps.] Jim Robson: St. Clair runs to the other side... back again... MMMAAANNN!!! [Johnny Spades rolls out of the way as The Headliner's knee strikes the ladder, becoming entangled in the gaps between steps.] Jim Robson: Spades shaking off the cobwebs, sees St. Clair stuck in the ladder... stomps, then pulls St. Clair out of the ladder! St. Clair clutching at his knee as Spades lifts him up! Jack Anderson: Only to kick at the knee and send Shane back down. Johnny with another pickup... hey, that'd make a good redneck tune! ... anyways, Johnny reaches under Shane and hits a Samoan Drop onto the ladder! [The Headliner winces at the impact as Johnny immediately slides off and onto his feet.] Jim Robson: Spades pulls St. Clair up... steps around behind and holds The Headliner in a Crucifix Powerbomb position! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= WHO WILL WIN? SPADES OR ST. CLAIR? FIND OUT NEXT! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= Jack Anderson: BUT HE HANGS ON!!! Hell, Johnny spins around even!!! Jim Robson: GOOD LORD ABOVE!!! SPADES BREAKS OUT INTO A RUN!!! Crowd: ... Jack Anderson: HO-LEE SSSHHH***TTT!!!!!!!! Jim Robson: POWERBOMB!!! HE NAILS "THE STRIP"!!! RUNNING RELEASE CRUCIFIX POWERBOMB TO THE OUTSIDE!!! OOOOOHHHHHHH MMMMMMYYYYYYYY LLLLLLOOOOOORRRRRRDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!! * KA-FRICKIN-CRASH!!! * [Spades ran, holding St. Claire high above, and when he got to the edge of the ropes he threw The Headliner backwards and down. The force of his impact knocking over the entire section of guardrail at the side of the ring. Spades himself topples over the top rope to the floor, as he went for as much momentum as he could muster and didn't bother stopping.] Jack Anderson: DAMN!!! Jim Robson: I DON'T BELIEVE THIS!!! THIS IS INSANE!!! GOOD LORD __WHY?__ Crowd: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! [Spades gets to his knees, surveying the unmoving form of his stablemate, and then to his feet.] Jim Robson: I must shake my head that these two would GIVE that much PAIN to each other!!! Jack Anderson: It's the gold, Jim. Intercontinental Championship on the line here... that belt is the only thing these two are concerned about. Jim Robson: Oh my... [Spades wipes his hands through his hair a sadistic sneer forms as he pulls St. Clair up and drags him towards the announcers table...] Jack Anderson: This outta be good! Heh! Jim Robson: I definitely DO NOT like the looks of this! Jack Anderson: Well, at least they're going with the Japanese announcing team's table... saves us from calling a match on our feet, eh? Jim Robson: I don't find that humorous in the least! With Spades, you can never tell what he's got planned! I really don't like this one bit... [Spades lifts and throws St. Clair onto the Japanese announcers' table. Plants an elbow to the gut for good measure then backs away, grinning.] Jim Robson: After all he's been through he still has something planned?! GOOD LORD! ENOUGH IS ENOUGH JOHNNY SPADES!!! Jack Anderson: Well, whatever it is, he's going inside the ring for it... top turnbuckle... oh sh*t, maybe you're right, this is going over the limit... Jim Robson: DAMMIT!!! Spades sets up the ladder, towards us, and climbs... [Bit by bit, step by step. The fans, although despising Spades lots, still manage to pop for this spectacle... hungry for more.] Crowd: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! [Spades reaches the top, and stands VERY precariously atop it... the VERY top he stands on. The camera pans around to the arena, some craving this sick game, others in shock. Switching to Jim and Jack at their seats... they look absolutely horrified and concerned... EVEN Jack. A shot of Regina McKnight on the outside looking on, worried. Another shot, this of the Japanese broadcast team hightailing out of Dodge. Then to Spades, atop, who outstretches his arms to the sides . Flashbulb city. Pins and needles. Johnny Spades leaps with reckless abandon.] Jim Robson: LLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!! [Mega velocity Frog Splash.] * TTTHHHOOOOOOOOOOMMM!!! * * KKKKRRRRAAAAASSSSSHHHHHH!!! * [Body upon body collide, splinters fly, sickening snaps of wood and ribs. It's instantaneous and lingering all in one. Sudden lethality, permanent brutality.] Jim Robson: My god, what do you say to that... Jack Anderson: FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF*************CCCCKKKKIIIIIINNNNGGGG FROG SPLASH FROM HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Damn. That's sick. REALLY sick. Crowd: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! [Some fans any ways, a lot are stunned, shocked, and expressionless.] Jim Robson: I look at some of these people and I honestly don't know how they can cheer something like this... we're talking lives on the line. Fans, please, remember these people aren't indestructible. Hell, I don't know if these men can even wrestle tonight, let alone a career... Jack Anderson: I like sick-ass spots, but this is... well, f*ck me, that was an altitude of at least 20 feet. Probably more. That's frickin' insane. I like both these guys, but man... Jim Robson: Hard to know what to say, isn't it? [Close-up shot of Spades atop St. Claire in a heap of wood and plastic. Unconscious, both.] Some of the crowd, but EXTREMEly vocal: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! Jim Robson: I can't understand some of these folks... I truly can't... and good lord... look at poor Regina. [Regina McKnight, St. Clair's girlfriend, who has been viewing this whole evening with a dire face is absolutely horrified. Tears streak down her face as she holds her hands to her mouth, her head shakes side to side as she keeps whispering, "oh god no, oh god no" to herself.] Jim Robson: She's got to be worried something awful. Jack Anderson: Man, Jim, I just can't believe Spades would go this far... Jim Robson: We've seen some brutal stuff on Spades part before, but never anything like this. [Regina, still in a state, runs over and tries to roll off Spades...] Jack Anderson: I'm helping... [Shot of Jack removing his headset and joining Regina. The two roll Johnny off of Shane. Blood everywhere... Regina flips out as blood is smeared on both wrestlers. Close up shot reveals a long, deep gash down the abdomen and side of Spades, obviously cutting himself on the busted announcer's table from the shattering impact... but it's obvious he's broken some ribs by the protruding nature of the ribcage. Regina does seem somewhat relieved to find St. Clair breathing... although laboriously, and sparingly. Jack stands up and helps her to her feet.] Jim Robson: This could be a real tragedy here. I'm not talking about not being able to crown a new champion, I mean a real honest to god tragedy if both men are seriously injured. Frankly, to hell with ratings or buy rate, or what's good for business... this is a serious matter! Thank heavens... EMT's. [The medics arrive on the scene and Jack moves Regina away so they can do their job. Cut to Arcola and Halston, their faces show signs of concern as well.] Jim Robson: You have to wonder if The Franchise Players will even exist after tonight. [The EMT's apply smelling salts... This causes St. Clair to jerk back against the rubble. Regina entwines her hands and breathes a sigh of relief. Regina goes to him, but unexpectedly, Shane pushes her away, then the two medics attending him.] Jim Robson: Good lord, don't tell me he's still planning on... NO!!! [St. Clair staggers to his feet, in obvious pain, but even still he kicks away two more medics reviving and checking Spades' wounds.] Jim Robson: DAMMIT!!! [Regina still looks awfully concerned but once more resumes the role as spectator. Jack comes back. And the EMT's? They look confused as they once more try to help...] Jim Robson: ST. CLAIR REACHES OVER AND GRABS A CHAIR!!! * WHAMMM!!! * [A medic falls.] * WHAMMM!!! * [First aid for the first aid giver.] * WHAMMM!!! * [Bring the gurney.] * WHAMMM!!! * [Just another medical statistic.] Jim Robson: MY GOD, SHANE ST. CLAIRE HAS TAKEN OUT THE MEDIC'S... AND ONE OF THEM WAS A WOMEN!!! ST. CLAIRE HAS SNAPPED!!! [This pretty dastardly deed sparks the ire of the fans who pour out their "love".] Crowd: BBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! [Sound of a headset jacking in.] Jack Anderson: Hey, am I on? Jim Robson: Yes, you're good. Jack Anderson: Great. As much as I love Shane over there, I think he may be going too far, or it could be his "supplements" kicking in... y'know it doesn't matter, what we have here is a pissed off man... a hurt pissed off man. With big, BIG arms. HUGE even. Not a wise thing. Jim Robson: And just what did the EMT's do? Jack Anderson: Interfered in the match, what else? Jim Robson: You DO realize that one of the medics he hit was a women, don't you?! Jack Anderson: Oh heh, I couldn't tell! Jim Robson: You are disgusting! Just when I think you've found a shred of human decency, you manage to totally blow that out the water with tasteless comments like that! Jack Anderson: Why thank you. Means I'm doing my job! Heh. Jim Robson: ST. CLAIR RAISES THE CHAIR AND BRINGS IT DOWN ON SPADES' RIBS AND STOMACH!!! DAMMIT, THIS HAS GOT TO STOP!!! * WHUD!!! * * WHUD!!!* * WHUD!!! * [The Headliner tosses aside the chair then lifts Spades up, then whips him into the steel post.] Jack Anderson: Johnny staggers back... * REVERBERATING CLANG!!! * [St. Clair with a _STIFF_ lariat to the back of Spades head, sandwiching it between a massive arm and the steel post itself. The Headliner backs off as Spades' limp form slides down, leaving a trail of blood. The camera zooms into the fallen figure. Spades lip is split wide open, blood flowing in earnest... as well as his prior injury sustained from hitting the table.] Jim Robson: Good lord. St. Clair's going to kill him!!! Jack Anderson: Win at all costs. Whatever it takes. Jim Robson: St. Clair climbs back into the ring and sets the ladder up! This HAS to be it!! [Of course, on cue, Spades lifts a bloody lower face... spitting out some blood in the process. Clutching his ab wounds, Spades struggles to his feet, using the ring for leverage.] Jim Robson: LORD!!! Jack Anderson: Heh, The Franchise Players are a tenacious lot... Jim Robson: I give them that!! Spades rolls in the ring... gets to his feet. St. Clair making his way up to the belt! OH MY!!! JOHNNY SPADES CLIMBING UP THE OTHER SIDE!!! [Spades, perhaps by the taste of his own blood, appears to be somewhat revived as he meets Shane halfway up. Through, and around, the ladder the two begin to fire off punches. Spades throws one fist off to the side that St. Clair catches in his hand. St. Clair refuses to relinquish the grip. Deciding to take advantage, St. Clair fires off a shot to the other side of Spades, that Spades blocks and captures in HIS hand. Similar to a test of strength, the two strain for control... Spades spits blood in the face of St. Clair. This only seems to further infuriate The Headliner, but he refuses to let go of the one hand of Spades he holds. Spades leaps backwards pulling St. Clair's head between the steps...] Jim Robson: OH MY LLLLLOOOOOOOORRRRRRRDDDDD HAVE MERCY!!! [The ladder is jerked Spades way, and falls against the ropes... Spades lands back first against the mat with a grimace. The ladder bounces off the ropes, to the side than holds against the corner, sparing Spades from further harm. St. Clair bounces with the ladder but is thrown wide and hits cruel canvas.] Jack Anderson: Wow... that's one way to break loose. Jim Robson: But at the cost of BOTH men! [The fans give an "ooh" pop. Spades staggers back to his feet... woozy, blood still seeping from his torso wounds, blood still flowing from his split upper lip - his neck and chin drenched in it. St. Clair lays on his back... motionless. Spades shakes off as many cobwebs as he is able to... then touches his lip... looks down at the blood trickling on his fingers.] Jack Anderson: I don't think Johnny's too happy with that heh. Jim Robson: Spades walks over to St. Clair... MOTHER OF MERCY!!! THAT'S ONE STIFF KICK!!! Jack Anderson: WOAH! [Johnny Spades delivers a legit stomp onto the face of St. Clair... blood immediately flies in spittles as The Headliner's nose noticeably bends to the side... broken.] Jim Robson: MY LORD!!! THESE TWO ARE SHOWING NO COMPASSION TO ONE ANOTHER!!! Jack Anderson: Well, with these two? Jim Robson: I know that, Jack, but DAMMIT, these two are stable-mates!!! You would think there would be SOME leniency!!! This is completely vicious!!! Jack Anderson: Yeah, yeah, yeah... hey, we're IWF-Frickin'-WOW man, we're NOT for the elderly!!! [Spades forms a slight grin at the sight of St. Clair's busted nose... the blood flowing free on both men now. St. Clair writhes and clutches at his face... kicking the mat as injured people are prone to do; that involuntary jerking of the leg. Spades brings St. Clair to his feet, letting The Headliner wobble around like a drunk.] Jim Robson: Spades with the pick up, now he heads to the ropes... RUNNING KNEE LIFT WITH AUTHORITY!!! [The Headliner's head jerks back as more blood sprays in the air from his broken nose... St. Clair himself flies back into the corner, slumped into it, held up by his arms overlapping the top rope.] Jim Robson: Spades backing up into the opposite corner... man, that split lip looks absolutely horrid! So does his ribs for that matter... how he is fighting through with what is VERY likely broken ribs is a miracle unto itself! Jack Anderson: Both are pushing themselves to their limits and beyond... they can't keep this up forever. Especially after what we've already seen. Jim Robson: Johnny Spades taking a brief respite as he rests in the corner, grabbing his side... he must've caught some sharp pieces there. HE RUNS ACROSS THE RING IN A SUDDEN SPRINT!!! Crowd: OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Jim Robson: ST. CLAIR BACKDROPS JOHNNY SPADES OUT OF THE RING!!! * SSSHHHMMMAAACCCKKK!!! * Jack Anderson: Shane is still in this! Jim Robson: St. Clair climbing the top rope as Spades struggles to his feet on the outside! Shane St. Clair out of his element here! Jack Anderson: AAAAAXXXXXXXXEEE HANDLE!!! Hey, if you can yell, so can I. Jim Robson: Johnny Spades sent crashing down into the aisle!!! St. Clair staggering after the move and falls down as well! I have to think these men are spent! Jack Anderson: Think?! [What seems like a couple minutes of time passage occurs, and the two wrestlers begin to stir... getting to their feet they begin to slug it out on the aisle with weak fists, majority of them missing by a mile. They brawl like this, going up the ramp as they do... as they hit the top of the ramp itself, Spades locks in a side headlock...] Jim Robson: FIGHTING ALL THE WAY UP TO THE RAMP!!! Jack Anderson: Spades with the advantage... Jim Robson: BULLLLLLLDOG!!! * CCCCCCCCCCLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!! * Jack Anderson: Johnny back up to his feet, lifts up St. Clair into a TOMBS... OH FRIG!!! Jim Robson: LLLLLOOOORRRRDDDD!!! SHANE ST. CLAIR SHIFTS HIS WEIGHT!!! SPADES FINDS HIMSELF HELD UP... HHHAAAVVVEEE MMMEEERRRCCCYYY!!!!!!! * WWWWWHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! * Jack Anderson: THE CAREER KILLER!!! Jim Robson: JUMPING SIT DOWN TOMBSTONE!!! JUMPING SIT OUT BELLY TO BELLY PILEDRIVER!!! WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT, IT DOESN'T MATTER BECAUSE ST. CLAIR DRILLS SPADES HEAD DOWN ONTO THE STEEL GRATING!!!!!!! [St. Clair slowly gets up... then begins to stagger down the ramp and to the ring.] Jack Anderson: I don't think Spades is getting up from this one... Jim Robson: St. Clair makes it inside the ring! He grabs the ladder... Jack Anderson: WHAT THE HELL?!! Jim Robson: Folks, this is the damnedest thing I've seen... St. Clair slides out of the ring, pulling the ladder with him?! Oh god no... please no... he has victory in his grasp! St. Clair can get the belt right here and now but instead he's carrying the ladder back up the ramp! Jack Anderson: This has got me confused... St. Clair can win the belt, like you said, and instead he's bringing it to where Spades is?! Jim Robson: The only other thing I can think of is that maybe St. Clair is trying to prove that HE is the best one, the Alpha Wolf if you will... Jack Anderson: Then this could very well be for the leadership of The Franchise Play-ahs!!! Jim Robson: If they live... or can even continue their respective careers... [St. Clair sets up the ladder at the top of the ramp... makes sure it's good and firm and picks up Spades...] Jim Robson: JUMPING HANGMAN'S NECKBREAKER!!! GOOD LORD!!! [Spades flips off after the move, clutching at his neck and kicking the air. Close up shot of a weary Shane St. Clair sitting down facing the screen. His nose is horribly bent, blood still seeps from it, his lower face, like Spades, thick with the red substance. Taking a deep breath, The Headliner gets to his feet... picks up Spades and throws him over his shoulder.] Jack Anderson: This don't look pretty... Jim Robson: ST. CLAIR STARTS UP THE LADDER, CARRYING JOHNNY SPADES!!! MY GOD!!! Jack Anderson: Well, there's no question the strength of Shane! [Taking his time, of course, St. Clair makes it up with Spades over his shoulder, one freakin' step at a time. Near the top, Shane sets Spades seated on the top, then begins to climb down.] Jack Anderson: The hell? Jim Robson: WHAT could be going through Shane St. Clair's mind?! Lord. [At the bottom of the ladder, St. Clair wipes his brow, then heads over to the edge of the IWF/WOW Giga-Tron...] Jack Anderson: FFFFFF***************CCCCKKKKK!!!!!!!! Jim Robson: I don't believe this... [The fans are shocked, in awe, anticipating. Some are visibly concerned as they look up at the large muscular figure of Shane St. Clair scaling up the side of the Giga-Tron's steel structure. Parents cover their children's eyes. Some thirst for this.] Fans: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! Jack Anderson: See, some fans like this! Jim Robson: You and them are twisted beyond remorse. [As St. Clair reaches the top he balances himself as he walks towards the middle of the steel border. Fans gasp. Shot of Regina McKnight looking absolutely terrified, possibly worse than before.] Fans: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! Jim Robson: DAMMIT NO!!! NO!!! NO!!! Jack Anderson: What if it was Elijah Flynt up there, what would your opinion be then? Jim Robson: I like Flynt and all, but NO! NOT THIS!!! Johnny's up 15 feet... and with Shane up on the Giga-Tron, HE'S UP THIRTY FEET FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!!! [Shot of Shane St. Claire outstretching his arms... similar to what Spades did earlier. Cameras flash like it's the apocalypse. Shane takes a deep breath... then jumps with both arms forward...] [...................... Diving down towards Spades sitting on the ladder.] Jack Anderson: HO-LLLLEEEE FFFFFFF***********CCCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [......................... They make contact.] Jim Robson: SPEAR OFF THE GIGA-TRON!!!!!!!! SPEAR OFF THE GIGA-TRON!!!!!!!! [.................... St. Clair grabbing Spades by the midsection and lower legs takes the two of them forward literally sailing at an angle. The ladder begins to fall in the process.] * BBBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!! * [St. Clair lands atop Spades as they hit the bottom of the ramp at the start of the concrete with an earth shattering impact and force. Sickening smack and thud.] Jack Anderson: ....... Jim Robson: ....... Crowd: ....... [Everyone is too stunned for words except for those blood fanatics.] I/W Extreme Fans: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! Jim Robson: Lord have mercy. Jack Anderson: ... Wow. I/W Extreme Fans: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! Jim Robson: Never... never have I seen anything like this... this is tragic. Jack Anderson: Damnedest thing. [Close up of both wrestlers limp, motionless, yet, still breathing...] Jim Robson: At least they're alive. Jack Anderson: Amen to that. Jim Robson: I'm sorry fans, but this, this is not what we're about... sure we like to give you the proverbial, "bang for the buck". But this, this wasn't scheduled for this match... I may have just broke kayfabe here, but to hell with it... this is serious. Jack Anderson: Crap, man, I like blood and violence in my sports entertainment... but yeah, this? Jim, I truly find myself honestly agreeing with you here. Jim Robson: WE NEED SOME DOCTORS HERE!!! DAMMIT, IMMEDIATELY!!! I/W Extreme Fans: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! Jim Robson: AND DAMMIT, WHY ARE SOME FANS CHEERING THIS?! Jack Anderson: Easy, Jim. I know how they feel too... it's a sad thing to witness when one wrestler would even CONSIDER doing what St. Clair did, but, I agree with his choice. Jim Robson: HOW CAN YOU?! YOU CANNOT JUSTIFY THE COST!!! Jack Anderson: It's gold, Jim. It's for the chance to wear the Intercontinental strap. We men do strange things when it's a matter of pride and honour, and when it comes to becoming or attaining success. And these fans, these fans are just in awe of a move, Jim. I'm sure they don't wish harm on either Shane or Johnny. But, in their own way, they ARE doing the right thing... they are showing they thought that was one helluva move... that that spot was "magic". Jim Robson: You have a point. Jack Anderson: At least St. Clair doesn't do this ALL the time like other wrestlers, this isn't what he wants to make a career out of, unlike other certain wrestlers... *cough* Elijah Flynt *cough*. [MORE EMT's arrive on the scene, with stretchers.] Jim Robson: Thank god. [The medical help begin to do their thing, including placing both Spades and St. Clair on the two stretchers wheeled out for them.] Jim Robson: As much as it's a shame not to crown an Intercontinental Champion after a little over two months of vacancy... I'd much rather see these two young men be well. [Another shot of Kenneth Halston and Justin Arcola, nearby... concerned. Switches to Regina McKnight once more going over to her man.] Jim Robson: Simply heartbreaking for her. [Moments of silence by EVERYone as both wrestlers are wheeled out... one by one the fans begin to clap, until it hits an unsurpassable crescendo. EVERY fan is on their feet.] Jim Robson: WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS! Despite these people disliking these two competitors attitudes, they do respect their never say die performance here tonight! Jack Anderson: *sniff* The fans really do love them! Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood. Jim Robson: I'll let it slide this once. Heh. FAIR THEE WELL JOHNNY SPADES!!! FAIR THEE WELL SHANE ST. CLAIR!!! I tip my hat to you! Jack Anderson: Here, here! [The EMT's wheel both wrestlers out, alongside the ramp. A lingering shot of silence of the untimely exit. Then the crowd pans around as all the fans continue to applaud the efforts of both. This goes on for about three minutes or more before cutting back to Halston and Arcola in disbelief, then on to ringside with Jim and Jack, seated at their table.] Jim Robson: Like I said, it truly is a shame we could not crown a new Intercontinental Champion for you folks, you fans, tonight... but I'm sure all of you understand why. Things happen out of our control sometimes. Jack Anderson: I suppose this leaves us heading into THE MAIN EVENT!!! To the crowning of the rightful World Champion... Jim Robson: Oh brother... Jack Anderson: "EPIC" Eric Travers!!! WWWHHHHOOOOOOOOOO!!! [Jack grins as Jim rolls his eyes.] Jim Robson: Yes, fans, in just a few minutes, we'll start up the Four Corners Match for the IWF/WOW World Championship... and what a bout that'll be! We have the special guest referee The Prophe... WHAT THE?! [Jim's face goes white as he covers his ear-piece.] Jack Anderson: Jim, is everything alright... [Jim waves him off and nods his head as he listens.] Jim Robson: I don't believe this... MOTHER OF MERCY!!! Jack Anderson: WHAT?! Jim Robson: I... I... they're putting it through on the Giga-Tron! [The whole arena looks on in astonishment as the Giga-Tron shows the back loading area, the ambulance situated there flashes it lights, but it's empty, nary a soul. Two stretchers are tipped over to the side, a couple of EMT's are laid out on the floor and a third looks like she's seen a ghost. The camera pans around behind... we, the viewers at home, switch from the cloudy image of the Giga-Tron to the actual camera shot... down the hallway, Johnny Spades and Shane St. Clair wobble back and forth, throwing tired and half-assed slaps, chops and punches. Both limp in pain as they make their way through a curtain... the arena goes BALLISTIC as the two appear to the left of the ramp... St. Claire favours his right shoulder as he shoves Spades forward... Johnny stumbles forward.] Jim Robson: I DON'T BELIEVE MY EYES!!! TELL ME WE AREN'T SEEING WHAT WE'RE SEEING?!! Jack Anderson: Sorry to disappoint, Jim, but these two are ... man oh man. Whole F'N Corel Centre: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! [St. Clair staggers forward nails a real wimpy ass lariat with his left arm to the back of Spades' neck, as the other remains limp and slightly twisted - hanging useless. The lariat, even in its sorry state, does the job and Spades falls forward onto the concrete. St. Clair, wipes a bloody broken nose then begins to stagger and falls to his knees, exhausted beyond a normal man's endurance. Pushing himself up with his good arm he gets to his feet.] Jack Anderson: Shane St. Clair grabs the ladder with his good wing and pulls it with him towards the ring! Jim Robson: My god. [The Headliner gets it to the ring, but has difficulty getting it in, due to the awkward nature of using only one arm to do the job. Spades hobbles, grimacing, the blood from his wounds still oozing somewhat, and makes it to ringside...] Jim Robson: OH MY!!! Spades from behind, grabs the ladder out of St. Clair's one good arm!!! * KAH-WANG!!! * [Spades swings the folded ladder to the side, knocking St. Clair off his feet... Johnny slowly makes his way forward, shoving the ladder in himself. Wincing something awful, Spades rolls in the ring... it's obvious his ribs are suffering MAJOR pain. Spades pushes himself back up... then sets up the ladder. St. Clair rolls in the ring.] Jack Anderson: Hoo boy! Jim Robson: SPADES BEGINS TO ASCEND!!! ST. CLAIR TAKES THE OTHER SIDE!!! [Neither one takes the time to throw a punch or anything. They ... just ... climb.] Jack Anderson: St. Clair may only have use of one arm but he climbs... damn, that other arm looks dislocated for frig's sake! Jim Robson: I'd have to say that both wrestlers' minds are dislocated after coming back out here!!! Jack Anderson: What is that you sometimes say, "heart", what about that, eh?! Jim Robson: Well, there's a fine line... and I think these two crossed it tonight for damn certain! [Slowly but surely both wrestlers make their way up until they each stand on the second last rung.] Jim Robson: YOU CAN CUT THE INTENSITY WITH A DAMN KNIFE!!! [Cameras already flash in anticipation.] Corel Centre: EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! EYE-DUB!!! Jim Robson: PUNCH BY ST. CLAIR!!! GOOD LORD... SPADES STAGGERS BACK BUT HE CATCHES HIMSELF!!! CHOP BY CLAIR!!! SLAP BY SPADES!!! THE TWO ARE LITERALLY TRADING BLOWS AT THE TOP OF THE LADDER!!! [It goes back and forth for what seems like an eternity.] Jim Robson: ST. CLAIR PUNCHES... SPADES BLOCKS!!! SPADES PUNCHES... ST. CLAIR BLOCKS!!! ST. CLAIR WITH A CHOP... GOOD LORD SPADES DUCKS THE MOVE... SPADES GRABS ST. CLAIR WITH BOTH HANDS!!! HE HAS HIM BY THE THROAT... * WWWWWWHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!! * Jim Robson: TWO HANDED SHOVING CHOKE SLAM TO THE CANVAS BELOW!!!!!!!!!!!! ST. CLAIR IS TOTALLED!!! SPADES FALLS FORWARD BUT HANGS ON TO THE LADDER!!!!!! Jack Anderson: Thank the steel workers it's steadying on him! [Spades senses what's happened, he looks down at the unmoving body of his stable-mate then to straight above him. The Intercontinental Championship belt dangles from a hook a couple feet away. He reaches up a hand, his body slick with sweat and blood...] Jim Robson: HE'S DONE IT!!! JOHNNY SPADES HAS DONE IT!!! * DING! DING! DING! * [Spades carries the belt back down the ladder with him.] Jim Robson: MY GOD WHAT A MATCH!!! Jack Anderson: YES!!! YES!!! YES!!! JOHNNY SPADES HAS GONE AND DONE IT!!! [The fans, who applauded the spots before, now LOATHE and DETEST Spades as he staggers backwards off the ladder and leans against the ropes with a tired smirk... blood caked all over his torso and lower face.] Crowd: BBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! [Justin Arcola and Kenneth Halston climb over the guardrail and into the ring, smiling and grinning and smirking. The two help St. Clair up to his feet. Francine stands off to the side on the outside of the ring, ready to make the official announcement.] Francine: Here is your winner... and NNNNNNNEEEEEEEWWWWWWW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION.... JJJJJJJOOOOOOOHHHHHHHNNNNNNNYYYYYYY SSSSSSSPPPPPPPAAAAAAADDDDDDDEEEEEEESSSSSSS Jim Robson: Lord, what a ride!!! And it culminates... Jack Anderson: Love him or hate him... he's champ peeps!!! BOO-F'N-YA!!! [Spades motions for a microphone, Miguel Hernandez hands him one, and in a weary tone, as he holds his ribs for a moment.] JOHNNY SPADES: [title slung over his shoulder.] Eden, I told you that you would be nothing to me. Your my punching bag and don't you forget it. I told you all that I would walk out Intercontinental champion and unlike that bitch Hightower I will actually make this title worth something. The Franchise Players are the real deal. Johnny Spades is the real deal. You boys in the back better get ready cause this (taps title) is only the beginning. Whoever wants a piece of this, come and get it. You thought I was vicious before [smirks] You haven't seen anything. I'm now the number one contender to the World title. I will defend this title until I feel it's my time to ask for my rightful shot at the big belt. But until that time I will have fun kicking the crap out of whoever is stupid enough to try and take this title from around my waist. Don't Hate Greatness I/W [smirks then snarls] Hate Yourself! [St. Clair is seen sweaty tired and beaten in the middle of the ring. Kenneth Halston walks up patting St. Clair on the back, which sends The Headliner into a look of pain, and holds Johnny Spades' hand up in victory. St. Clair takes the mic from Spades.] SHANE ST. CLAIR: I told each and everyone of you it was going to happen. I just didn't tell you how. Did you think I was going to come into this thing without some kind of PLAN??? Halston and I set each and everyone of you up from start to finish. From the fake fights to the screaming matches in the back. Halston and I had it played all the way. Now not only do the Franchise Players have the Intercontinental title, but they also have a new member, the COMMISH OF THE IWF/WOW....MR. KENNETH HALSTON!!!!! [Halston taunts the crowd rigorously, as the rest of the Franchise Players stand laughing... although Spades and St. Clair spit up some blood in the process.] Jack Anderson: YES!!! The day just keeps getting better!!! Jim Robson: Well, I guess I was awaiting the official word... BUT MY GOD, KENNETH HALSTON, THE COMMISSIONER OF IWF/WOW, IS ... Jack Anderson: Say it with me... A FRANCHISE PLAY-AH!!! [Halston and Arcola help both Spades and St. Clair out of the ring. Regina awaits Shane eagerly, and she too helps him walk to the back. The Franchise Players walk up to the ramp, then turn around and smirk, diss, raise a weary arm, etc. as the Corel Centre hail down HATE.] Crowd: BBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Jim Robson: The Franchise Players, LORD, they fooled a lot of folks!!! And with the addition of Halston, this makes them a DANGEROUS collective!!! Jack Anderson: Plus, look at what they did to Desert Scorpion earlier tonight? They nearly killed him! Right now he's in some hospital room in pain! Ha. Some peeps thought these guys would fade out?! HAH! The Franchise Play-ahs appear to OWN IWF/lWOW!!! They keep getting stronger... and I tell ya, the Fraternity doesn't have a prayer when it comes to these four!!! They now have the Intercontinental belt, the Commissioner, WHAT'S NEXT?!! World Title?! Jim Robson: One can never tell... But they are damn sure making waves here in IWF/WOW!!! Jack Anderson: I also smell... Jim Robson: Yes? Jack Anderson: STABLE WWWAAARRRSSS!!! Jim Robson: With the advent of The Fraternity, and now, especially The Franchise Players with their latest turn of events... that very well could come to pass!!! There is no question now, The Franchise Players are a legitimate threat here in the IWF/WOW!!! But they should FOREVER remain on their toes... they've angered a LOT of people here ... and with Halston becoming an official member? They WILL have SERIOUS opposition in the back!!! I guaran-damn-tee you this! You cannot run around like they do and not expect to have retaliation!!! This is a very interesting period in IWF/WOW... one might even say this is a transition age! And The Franchise Players do indeed seem poised to take the stage and wrest control of IWF/WOW! Not only in the ring... but like I've said, with Halston as a member, they now CONTROL backstage as well!!! [The crowd boos one last time as The Franchise Players exit the ramp.] Jack Anderson: You know what? Jim Robson: I have a feeling I'll regret this... but yes, what? Jack Anderson: I also smell something else... Jim Robson: Oh no... Jack Anderson: OH YES!!! I __SMELL__ HIGHtower LOSING to the MAN, Eric Travers!!! Jim Robson: *sigh* [The screen switches back to the outside as president Jurkschat arrives inside the back entry way area. The Four Men from the limo are milling around, smoking, chatting. The first man points to Jurkschat.] 1ST MAN: 'Eads up mates. [They walk over to where Jurkschat stands between security.] 4TH MAN: Jurkschat, I belive? JURKSCHAT: Yes, that's me... you must be the ones who called after the Golden Turnbuckles aired. 3RD MAN: Well, at least this bloke 'as got things right! 4TH MAN: 'Bout bloody time... look we can do our thing, right? No problems with it? [Chris smiles.] JURKSCHAT: Nope, things are good to go! I wasn't sure if I received a crank call Friday or not, heh. [The four and Chris share a momentary laugh.] 3RD MAN: No, we're serious 'bout it, quite. Prob'bly th' last time th' world will see us too, I figure. [The others nod and the fourth man claps his hands together in anticipation, then tugs at his jacket.] 4TH MAN: Right! Let's get to it lads! JURKSCHAT: Agreed... this way gentlemen. [Chris motions with his hand, letting the four go ahead of him into the arena and, abruptly, the screen cuts back to the arena.] ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= YOU KNOW WHAT'S NEXT! IT'S MAIN EVENT TIME!! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= Jim Robson: Coming up next we have the main event. Four men will battle it out for the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Title. Jack Anderson: This is sure to be an amazing match. We've got the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion, Hightower, along with "Epic" Eric Travers, Elijah Flynt and Jeremy Thranton. When you get four guys like this in one ring, along with the Prophet as special guest referee, you never know what could happen. Jim Robson: Sure enough. Lets get to the ring. __ __ ___ ____ / / /\ \ \/ __\ ___| -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= \ \/ \/ / _\ |___ \ IWF/WOW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE MATCH \ /\ / / ___) | Hightower vs Travers vs Flynt vs Thranton \/ \/\/ |____/ -=-=-=-=-=-=- IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V =-=-=-=-=-=-= -----------------------> WRITER: Chris Jurkschat <----------------------- FRANCINE: The following match is for the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Championship... introducing first... the special guest referee... [The fans let out a massive pop. Suddenly, the Alleluia Chorus from Handel's "Messiah" plays over the PA system and the crowd explodes in cheers. Before the lights can go down, the Prophet emerges from the entranceway; his hair is tied back in a ponytail, he's wearing an IWF/WOW official t-shirt and black sweat pants. He gladly shakes hands with a few fans and climbs onto the ring apron, soaking up the fans cheers as he jumps on the turnbuckle. After a few seconds, he gets off the turnbuckle and waits in the centre of the ring.] FRANCINE: THE PROPHET! Jim Robson: The Prophet looks ready to call the match. Jack Anderson: He'd better call it down the line, or I'm going to have Jurkschat's ass! Jim Robson: I'm sure he will. FRANCINE: Introducing next... from the East End of London... [Suddenly, the curtain on the stage to the side of the ramp and Giga-Tron parts, revealing the four men from the limo earlier.] VOICE: 'ELLO TO THE F*CKING WORLD!!! I'm John Lydon... an' with me are me mates from the past... on bass, Glen Matlock! On drums, Paul Cook! And on guitar... Steve Jones!!! [Rotten smirks] WE'RE THE F*CKING SEX PISTOLS AND WE'RE HERE TO ROCK YOU ... LLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVVVEEEEEEE!!!!!!! [MASSIVE KILLER applause from those in the know.] ROTTEN: Now, some of you may be wondering wot we're doing 'ere... well, we're 'ere because we saw something damnright amusing Friday night... Yes, a couple of us are I/W fanatics... We saw a fellow mate from the streets of London sing a rather funny rendition of one of our songs. [Laughter from the crowd and the band.] ROTTEN: I'm talking about... ELIJAH F*CKING FLYNT!!! [Yells the last bit out with typical Lydon flair to a MEGA ovation.] ROTTEN: We liked it so much, we figured we'd treat a fellow anarchist to a treat an' play ... ONE ... LAST ... SHOW!!!!!!! [Killer pop.] ROTTEN: With that said, we won't do any of our songs! They all suck 'orribly! [Some booing and laughter as well.] ROTTEN: Instead, we figured we'd play a song we rather liked in our youth... and well, wether you f*cking like it or not, you're gonna hear it!!! HIT IT YOU SONS OF B*TCHES!!! And Flynt, THIS IS FOR YOU, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD!!!!!!! [They begin their raucous, raunchy, raw sound.] # I'm a street walking cheetah with a heart full a napalm # # I'm a runaway son of the nuclear A-bomb # # I am a world's forgotten boy # # The one who searches and destroys # # Honey gotta help me please # # Somebody gotta save my soul # # Baby detonate for me # [Elijah steps out onto the ramp, wearing his typical baggy brown dress pants, black boots, and a white, sleeveless, undershirt. A cigarette dangles from his mouth as he raises his fists into the air with a look of apathetic determination, and the crowd ROARS in approval, louder than before... The Sex Pistols, Elijah Flynt, the entire crowd are at the verge of busting their lungs and ears!] # Look out honey, 'cause I'm using technology # # Ain't got time to make no apology # # Soul radiation in the dead of night # # Love in the middle of a fire fight # # Honey gotta strike me blind # # Somebody gotta save my soul # # Baby penetrate my mind # [Elijah shares a brief smile with Lydon, as he walks by the band and down the ramp.] # And I'm the world's forgotten boy # # The one who's searchin', searchin' to destroy # # And honey I'm the world's forgotten boy # # The one who's searchin', searchin' to destroy # # Forgotten boy, forgotten boy # # Forgotten boy said hey forgotten boy # [The song ends as Elijah climbs through the ropes then flicks his cigarette out into the crowd. Lydon looks down at him from the band's stage.] ROTTEN: Elijah Flynt, knock 'em dead mate! That one's for you, your a damn fine bloke in my books! [Lydon turns to the crowd.] ROTTEN: And folks... This is your NEXT World Champion... 'E 'ails from th' centre of anarchy an' filth... THE EAST END OF F*CKING LONDON TOWN... 'E could stand t' be a sight taller at FIVE foot ELEVEN, but 'is 'eart is the size of a f*cking giant... 'E weighs in at a lean an' vigorous TWO HUNDRED and THIRTY-SEVEN pounds... EEELLLIIIJJJAAAHHH FFFLLLYYYNNNTTT!!!!!!! [AWE-inspiring ovation as Lydon wails it out in trademark style.] ROTTEN: No go win the damn belt man, an' we'll party after the show's over! AND TO OUR FANS ALL OVER THE WORLD... F*CK YOU!!! [Big applause as the band exits the stage. Elijah merely cracks his neck from side to side, then leans into his corner, awaiting the contest with focused energy.] Jim Robson: Wow... Jack Anderson: The Sex Pistols? What the hell? What are they doing here with Flynt? Jim Robson: I guess they're fans. Jack Anderson: I pity them. FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Los Angeles, California standing 6 feet 8 inches and weighing 325 pounds, he is a former World and North American champion as well as an IWF/WoW Hall of Fame inductee....ladies and gentlemen, here is... "THE EQUALIZER" JEREMY THRANTON!! [After a few seconds of blaring music, Thranton casually steps through the curtain, wearing an altogether unconcerned look on his face, although it still betrays a sense of menace as well as a slight smirk. He pauses for a minute and then tosses his stringy mop of shoulder length black hair out of his eyes and begins moving forward at a medium pace, his eyes seemingly set at a spot over the horizon.] [Thranton is a large, muscular/bulky, well-built man, although he does not have a bodybuilder's physique. His ancestry is part African-American and part Irish, which gives him a somewhat unique color of skin, but his features are that of a black man with the exception of his hair. All visible skin, but especially his face, is dotted with deep scars from past conflicts, including a prominent burn on his left cheek. Along with his long black hair, he also sports a goatee. He wears a plain black sleeveless T-shirt underneath a black leather jacket, of which the back is adorned with the symbol of barbed wire wrapped around a bleeding arm. This symbol is also present hanging around his neck, attached to a white necklace. He also wears black fingerless gloves, a pair of torn denim blue jeans and black Doc Martens.] [Thranton continues to walk down to the ring at a casual pace, seemingly apathetic to the reactions of the crowd or anything else going on around him. He removes his leather jacket and necklace as he reaches the ring, handing them to a ring attendant, and then climbs into the ring, stepping over the top rope. He then acknowledges the crowd with a mere nod of the head, then leans back into the turnbuckle. He throws his hair out of his eyes again as he waits for either the arrival of his opponent or the beginning of the match as his music dies out.] Jim Robson: Thranton sure as hell looks ready. Then again, Thranton looks like he's going into a World Title match every time he comes out here. [The lights in the arena fade to complete darkness as the voice of Tricia Lane echoes through the sound system.] VOICE OF TRICIA LANE: In gold, he's Epic!! In BLACK... He's UNBEATABLE!! [The crowd react with a LOUD mixed pop as "Sad But True" by Metallica blasts through the sound system. A gold spotlight shines on the entranceway and as the second guitar riff kicks in Tricia Lane steps through the curtain followed soon after by "Epic" Eric Travers. Travers is wearing his black wrestling attire, consisting on trunks, boots, elbow pads, and knee pads. The look on Travers' face is one of fierce intensity, as he looks straight ahead of him at the ring. Tricia Lane walks in front of him, dressed in a tight, black sequined dress, her auburn hair stylishly tied up. As Travers and Lane get half way down the aisle, a series of gold pyrotechnic effects go off behind them. Travers doesn't even flinch, merely continuing to focus straight ahead, keeping his eyes locked on the ring.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Toronto, Ontario, standing six feet two inches and weighing 267 pounds, here is ... "EPIC" ERIC TRAVERS!!!!! Jim Robson: Look at the intensity in his eyes!! Eric Travers looks ready to go!! Jack Anderson: What else could you have expected? Travers is a big match player!! He is in the ZONE!! And like Tricia Lane says to start his entrance, when Travers is in this state of mind, he's unbeatable!! Jim Robson: Even so, with this being a four corners match where the first pin fall wins, Travers doesn't have to be involved in the decision. Jack Anderson: That's true, but we've seen him in this state of mind before, and we know he has an ace up his sleeve. I wouldn't bet against Travers being involved in tonight's decision somehow!! [Travers and Lane reach the ringside area, and Lane walks past the steps to the side of the ring. Travers climbs the ring steps and steps through the ropes. Travers walks to center ring and takes a look all around him, observing the crowd, the overhead banners, the ringside area, everything. As he stands there, the gold spotlight stays on him, the light glistening of his chiseled frame. The music fades out, and the lights return, sending Travers to a corner, where he leans against the turnbuckle, awaiting his opponents.] [The crowd cheers as the voice of Hightower echoes over the sound system.] PA: Get ready to become........JUST ANOTHER VICTIM!!! ["Trip Like I Do" by Filter/Crystal Method plays and the fans let out a HUGE face pop as the house lights dim and a silver spotlight hits the entrance way.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada, standing 6 feet 8 inches and weighing 271 pounds, he is known as The Victimizer, here is the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion... H I G H T O W E R ! ! ! [The fans continue their face pop, and finally an explosion at the entrance way prompts an explosive face pop, and as the smoke starts to clear, Hightower emerges through the smoke, wearing black track pants, with a red football jersey with two black lightning bolts over the shoulders, with the number "71" on the front and back, and "HIGHTOWER" on the back, both in silver lettering. Hightower adjusts his sunglasses, staying at the top of the entrance way scanning the crowd as he has the World Heavyweight Championship slung over his right shoulder. Finally a mini display of fireworks and pyro's high above Hightower's head almost signals him and he makes his way down to the ring, shaking hands with the fans all the way down to the ring. But before Hightower can enter the ring, Jeremy Thranton comes after him.] DING! DING! DING! Jim Robson: Here we go! Jeremy Thranton is going after Hightower and this match is underway... Jack Anderson: Thranton is going after the champion, and they're brawling on the entranceway. Don't forget, Thranton pinned Hightower just last week on MAYHEM. Jim Robson: He did too. Elijah Flynt and Eric Travers are also going at it in the ring. Now Hightower really has to watch out for these two. Remember, all that has to go down is one pinfall. Hightower doesn't even have to be pinned, and he could lose the title. Jack Anderson: I love it! All Travers has to do is pin someone, say Elijah Flynt, and he will be the champion again. Jim Robson: That's correct. Thranton getting the advantage over Hightower outside of the ring. Thranton whips Hightower into the steps... OHH! Hightower hit the ringsteps hard. Jack Anderson: Yeah! Break his back! Thranton now going over and is still working on Hightower. He have the champion down, and he's choking him! He wants to make sure he stays down. Jim Robson: The Prophet is sitting back, letting all four men brawl, and the fans are loving it. Travers is working over Flynt inside the ring. He's in his zone, and it shows because he has total control over Flynt as he nails a backbreaker! Jack Anderson: Great move! I predict that by the end of the night, the Epic One will walk out once again as IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion. I'd even be willing to bet money on it. Jim Robson: Really? How much Jack? Jack Anderson: You think you won't Jim? Fine, fifty dollars on Travers. Jim Robson: You have yourself a deal. Travers is still in control of Flynt inside the ring. Travers with Flynt... AWESOME BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX! Nicely executed. Jack Anderson: Look at Travers. He is in his zone, and he never loses when he is in his zone. I smell fifty dollars coming to me. Jim Robson: It's not over yet. Meanwhile on the outside Hightower has over taken Jeremy Thranton. Hightower has Thranton by the head... AND HE SMASHES THRANTON'S HEAD INTO THE STEEL STEPS! Jack Anderson: Ouch! He could have easily broken his nose with that one. Jim Robson: Hightower looks mad. Thranton attacked him before he could get into the ring and now he's looking for revenge. Hightower has Thranton... HE WHIPS HIM INTO THE STEEL GUARDRAIL! Jack Anderson: My god... when Thranton hit the guardrail it went back about three rows, taking the fans with it! Hightower is now coming right back after Thranton, he's not letting Thranton recover at all. Jim Robson: Smart move, really. Weaken Thranton down as much as you can and try and get the pin. But Hightower still has to keep his eye inside the ring, make sure that neither Elijah Flynt or Eric Travers get the pin. Jack Anderson: Travers might just be close! He's been really taking it to Eric Travers, working over his back, his knee, his arm and just about every part of Flynt. Jim Robson: That's the idea, and that's the best way to win. You know, it'd odd that the Prophet has been so quiet so far. Jack Anderson: It's damn good. Let all four men fight it out, and see who is still standing after it's all said and done. That's the way it should be, and that's the way it's going to be here tonight. Jim Robson: Well Travers is all business right now. He's setting Flynt up... BACK SUPLEX BY ERIC TRAVERS! He's going for the early pinfall now, and the Prophet goes down for the count. 1 . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . ELIJAH FLYNT EASILY KICKS OUT! Jack Anderson: Well, it's still early, and I don't think even Eric Travers expected to get the pin. Jim Robson: But did you notice the Prophet gave Travers a fair count? Kind of gives you the impression that he is planning to call this match down the line and not give anyone a disadvantage. Jack Anderson: Hardly. He's just saving it. Travers is back to his feet now and he's going right back to work on Flynt. He's not showing any emotion at all, it's amazing. This guy impresses me more and more every time I see him, and I've watched him wrestle for years now. Jim Robson: Well Travers has Flynt on the mat in a sleeper hold trying to wear him down. Outside of the ring Hightower has Thranton down on the mat. Hightower is now getting into the ring. Jack Anderson: Watch out Travers! Jim Robson: Hightower from behind... HE NAILS TRAVERS! Hightower picks up Travers and throws him into the corner. HARD CHOP BY HIGHTOWER ONTO ERIC TRAVERS... AND AGAIN! Jack Anderson: Hightower is nailing Travers in the corner. He's really going to work on him. Jim Robson: Hold on! Here comes Elijah Flynt from behind! HE ROLLS HIGHTOWER UP!! THE COUNT! 1 . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . JEREMY THRANTON BREAKS IT UP! Now that was a close call as Flynt totally caught Hightower by surprise, and he almost became the new World Champion! Jack Anderson: Thranton is in the ring now... BUT HERE COMES ERIC TRAVERS WITH A MONSTER CLOTHESLINE! He takes Thranton off of his feet. There is no love lost between these two men - they are bitter enemies! Jim Robson: I honestly don't think this feud between Travers and Thranton will actually end until the day one of them dies. Travers has Thranton down on the mat and he's nailing him with punch, after punch, after punch. Jack Anderson: Hightower and Elijah Flynt are now going at it in the corner. You know Flynt's never really been impressed with Hightower. In the ring, Flynt is starting to get the better of Hightower. Jim Robson: Flynt with a kick to the gut of Hightower! GUTWRENCH SUPLEX BY ELIJAH FLYNT! Great move. You know, Elijah is more of a brawler, but he still has a few nice moves to show off here and there, and that was most definitely one of them! Jack Anderson: Thranton is now getting to his feet as he is fighting it out with Travers. This could spell trouble for Travers... he maybe in his zone, but Thranton can certainly out power him! Jim Robson: I think you're right... HARD RIGHT HAND TO THE FACE OF TRAVERS AND TRAVERS FALL TO THE MAT! Thranton picks Travers up... AND ANOTHER SHOT! Jack Anderson: Oh no... this isn't good at all. Jim Robson: Thranton now picks up Eric Travers... SIDEWALK SLAM! Travers is in trouble. He's trying to back off from Thranton, and I don't blame him. Thranton wants this World Title. Don't forget, it was four years ago at the first WrestleFest that Thranton won the WOW World Title, against the Prophet. Jack Anderson: I'm sure the Prophet doesn't forget either! Travers is still backing off from Thranton. BUT HERE COMES ELIJAH FLYNT AFTER THRANTON! FLYNT WITH A SHOT TO THE FACE OF THRANTON... NO! BLOCKED BY THRANTON AND THRANTON NOW NAILS FLYNT WITH AN UPPERCUT! Jim Robson: Now Travers gets up and goes after Flynt... and Thranton is helping him! They're both stomping on Flynt. Jack Anderson: Hey, maybe it's Thranton that's going to turn and join Travers side! Look, they're both working together. It's possible! Jim Robson: Are you serious? Jack Anderson: Sure, why not. This whole bitter enemy thing could be some sort of hoax to try and trick everyone. [Suddenly, Eric Travers turns on Thranton and throws a punch at him.] Jim Robson: Or maybe not... it looks like Travers just turned on Thranton! Now he's tacked Thranton and took him down to the mat. Meanwhile it looks like Hightower is going after Flynt once again. ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= PART 11? YES, THE MAIN EVENT WILL CONTINUE IN PART 11! ========================================================================= IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V - IWF/WOW WRESTLEFEST V ========================================================================= Jack Anderson: Travers shoves Thranton into the corner. Jim Robson: He throws Thranton face first to the mat now. Eric Travers is going to the outside? What is he planning to do to Jeremy Thranton? Jack Anderson: I'm not sure... oh, hold on, maybe I do!! My god! He just smashed Thranton's knee into the steel post! Jim Robson: Smart move by Eric Travers. He knows that Jeremy Thranton has a reconstructed knee, so he wants to weaken it and hopefully keep Thranton off of his feet and out of this match. Jack Anderson: That's right - if Thranton can't walk, he's not a threat at all. Travers has Thranton's leg again... AND HE SLAMS THRANTON'S KNEE AGAINST THE STEEL POST ONCE AGAIN! Jim Robson: Thranton is clutching his knee in pain and I'm not sure how much longer he'll be able to take the pain. I'm actually surprised that Travers doesn't try and go for the pin and put him out of his misery. Jack Anderson: I'm not sure either. Flynt and Hightower are still trading blows. Well, actually, Flynt has taken the advantage. He is setting Hightower up... CLOTHESLINE SENDS HIGHTOWER OVER THE TOP! Jim Robson: But now Elijah Flynt is going to the outside, going after Hightower. Flynt now on the outside... HE SLAMS HIS FACE ON THE STEEL STEPS! AND AGAIN! AND AGAIN! Jack Anderson: Flynt is becoming as vicious as ever. He knows what this is all about - the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Title, and he wants it just as much as anyone else inside the ring right now. Jim Robson: The Prophet is just sitting back and watching, letting all four man take each other a part. I don't blame him, let the best man win. Jack Anderson: I love the idea myself, if only because I know that Eric Travers is the best man in that ring. Jim Robson: You had better hope so, you've got fifty dollars riding on it. Flynt is now dragging Hightower up to the top of the entrance ramp. Where in the world is he going? Jack Anderson: I'm not sure, but it can't be good for Hightower! It looks like Flynt is setting him up at the top of the entrance ramp, but I can't tell what he's doing at all. Jim Robson: Neither can... oh my... *** SMASH *** [The fans let out a big pop at the move.] Jack Anderson: MY GOD! Elijah Flynt just took Hightower, and himself, through a table off of the entrance ramp! That was incredible! How will either man survive that!? Jim Robson: I'm not sure. I do believe that move he used is called "White Chapel Revisited", otherwise known as a leaping sit-down belly to belly piledriver. Jack Anderson: Well, whatever it is, neither Flynt nor Hightower are moving. They're both down, still lying on what remains of that table that they went though. Jim Robson: Well, it does look like Flynt is starting to move a little bit. Back in the ring Jeremy Thranton has managed to take control over Travers once again, but he's still clutching his bad knee, which Travers really damaged earlier. Thranton has Travers setup... SIDEWALK SLAM! Jack Anderson: I don't think he actually meant to do that... I think he just picked Travers up and his knee gave out! Jim Robson: Either way Thranton is going for the pin now... the count! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . TRAVERS KICKS OUT! Jack Anderson: Whew. That was close! Jim Robson: You're right it is. Thranton isn't giving Travers anytime to recover though as he picks him up... HE WHIPS TRAVERS FACE FIRST INTO THE TURNBUCKLE! Jack Anderson: Travers out of the corner now... AND THRANTON CATCHES HIM! Jim Robson: EQUALITY CHOKE SUBMISSION BY JEREMY THRANTON! THIS IS TROUBLE FOR ERIC TRAVERS! Thranton has Travers just where he wants him, and Thranton might get the win right here as the Prophet checks up on him... Jack Anderson: NO! Hold on... It's Elijah Flynt! He's up and in the ring... HE BREAKS IT UP AS HE NAILS THRANTON FROM BEHIND! Jim Robson: Thranton is hardly fazed though! He turns around and is now looking at Flynt! He's got that "I'm going to kill you look" and Flynt looks somewhat surprised. Jack Anderson: THRANTON GRABS ELIJAH FLYNT! Jim Robson: He picks him up... AND THRANTON THROWS ELIJAH FLYNT TO THE OUTSIDE OF THE RING! OH MY GOD ELIJAH FLYNT LANDED FACE FIRST ON THE STEEL GUARDRAIL OUTSIDE OF THE RING! My god... this is insane! Jack Anderson: Thranton just threw Flynt to the outside and he landed face first on the guardrail... I don't even want to imagine what kind of pain Elijah Flynt is in right now. Jim Robson: HERE COMES HIGHTOWER! He's back in the ring and now he's going at it with Jeremy Thranton. Eric Travers is backing off some, taking a breather in the corner. Jack Anderson: Smart move... just sit back and relax. Flynt is down and out outside of the ring, and Hightower and Thranton are brawling. Just enjoy the break while you can. Jim Robson: Hightower is getting the better of Thranton right now... The champion with an European uppercut on Thranton, but it barely effects him. Jack Anderson: THRANTON FIRES BACK WITH A HARD RIGHT HAND! No! Blocked! HIGHTOWER TAKES THRANTON DOWN WITH A CLOTHESLINE! Jim Robson: HOLD ON! HERE COMES ERIC TRAVERS! He's got a chair... *** SMACK *** Jack Anderson: He just nailed Hightower! See, he made the save for Thranton. There has to be some sort of alliance between Thranton and Travers! *** SMACK *** Jim Robson: Are you sure! He just nailed Thranton as well! I'm starting to think that Travers was just trying to cause paranoia to Thranton, Hightower, Flynt and the Prophet. In fact, I'm sure of it. Jack Anderson: Travers is in his zone. He's not giving anyone time to recover. You know who that kind of reminds me of? Jim Robson: Who? Jack Anderson: Damian Malcolm. Jim Robson: Who is that? Jack Anderson: A former star from a few years back. Not many people know who he is or whatever happened to him. I wonder sometimes. Jim Robson: Well Travers is going to work on Hightower... SNAP SUPLEX BY ERIC TRAVERS! He's now going for the pin... 1 . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . THE CHAMP KICKS OUT! Travers only got a two and a half count. Jack Anderson: Damnit! [Suddenly, Travers is dragged from the ring.] Jim Robson: It's Elijah Flynt! He's back up! Jack Anderson: But he isn't looking very good... he's busted open from hitting the guardrail thanks to Jeremy Thranton! Jim Robson: But it's still alive, and that shows just how much he wants the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Title. He'll fight through anything, and do anything to win it. Jack Anderson: Yeah, but if he keeps bleeding like that, he might not make it through the night. Flynt now with Eric Travers... he throws him on top of the time keepers table! Jim Robson: Oh no! This could spell trouble for Travers. Flynt is setting Travers up... AND A BLOODY FLYNT PILEDRIVES ERIC TRAVERS THROUGH THE TABLE!!! My god, what a mess out there! Jack Anderson: Ohh! The insanity... Jim Robson: Flynt falls over... I think he is starting to feel light headed from the loss of blood. Back in the ring Thranton has Hightower. He has him setup... POWERBOMB! NO! WAIT! HE TURNS HIGHTOWER AROUND AND DROPS HIM NECK FIRST ACROSS THE TOP ROPE! Jack Anderson: Ohh! That could put Hightower out. Thranton is going for the pinfall... the Prophet goes the count! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . HIGHTOWER KICKS OUT! Thranton is up and is looking at the Prophet. He's questioning the count. Thranton thinks that should have been a three count! Jack Anderson: The Prophet is saying it wasn't... Thranton is getting into his face... NOW THRANTON JUST SHOVED THE PROPHET! Big mistake! Jim Robson: Well, the Prophet looks upset, but is letting it slide. I'm not sure if I agree with Thranton or not. It did looked like Hightower was done for. I really didn't think he'd be able to kick out at all, but he certainly does still have some strength left in his body. He is a fighting champion. Jack Anderson: True enough. Outside of the ring Elijah Flynt still has control of Eric Travers, despite the amount of blood he has lost. Look at him, his face, clothes, everything is covered in it. But he's got a chair... he runs after Travers... *** SMACK!! *** Jim Robson: Flynt just drilled Travers with the chair and Travers falls down to the mat. This is exciting. Flynt stays with Travers... he's got the ringbell now... *** DING! DING! DING! *** Jack Anderson: Travers just got his bell rung not once, not twice by three times. He's out of it. I'm not sure if he'll be able to come back and win this. Jim Robson: You had better be ready to fork over my money then Jack. Jack Anderson: I didn't say Travers was gone for sure though, did I now? Jim Robson: No, you didn't. He does still have a shot, but he's going to have to get back in control as soon if he plans on it. In the ring, Thranton whips Hightower into the ropes... SPINEBUSTER SLAMS BY THRANTON! It looks like Thranton's power is really working to his advantage. Jack Anderson: Even worse, his knee isn't affecting him anymore. Travers has injured his knee earlier on, but he seems to be walking around fine. Jim Robson: True, but I think Thranton will be feeling the pain tomorrow night. What is he doing now? He just laid a chair in the center of the ring! Jack Anderson: I'm not quiet sure! Jim Robson: Hightower is getting to his feet, but Thranton comes right over and doesn't let him fully stand up. Thranton with Hightower... FRONT FACE SLAM RIGHT INTO THE STEEL CHAIR SENDS THE IWF/WOW WORLD CHAMPION BACK TO THE MAT AND OUT OF IT! Jack Anderson: The Prophet is looking on, amazed that these four men have given it their all and are still going. Probably bringing back some memories of the first two WrestleFest events where the Prophet was _wrestling_ in the main event! Jim Robson: Well, he's in the main event once again here tonight, only this time as special guest referee, and I think he's doing a good job of it. He's staying back and letting these four amazing athletes go at it for the chance to become the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Champion. Jack Anderson: Flynt is now rolling Eric Travers back into the ring. Thranton is going after Travers... Jim Robson: HOLD ON! Jack Anderson: The Prophet just picked up the chair that is in the ring... Thranton doesn't see him! [The jaws of each and every fan in the arena drop as the Prophet winds up.] ********** SMACK!!!! ********** Jim Robson: I DON'T BELIVE IT! THE PROPHET JUST NAILED JEREMY THRANTON FROM BEHIND! THRANTON IS CLUTCHING HIS BACK AND HE IS IN PAIN!! Jack Anderson: Yeah! The Prophet is just getting a little bit of revenge. Not only for Thranton getting in his face earlier tonight, but for Thranton taking his WOW World Title four years ago at the original WrestleFest. It's all about revenge bay-be! Jim Robson: The Prophet winds up once again... ****** SMACK! ***** Jack Anderson: AND HE NAILS JEREMY THRANTON ONCE AGAIN!! Haha... look at the smile on the face of Eric Travers. He loves it. He has the official on his side - he has to win this match! Jim Robson: So Travers was telling the truth. There was someone in this match who was going to turn, and it was the Prophet. My god... I can't believe it. He had everyone fooled, we all thought that he was going to turn over a new leaf, and be a new man! Jack Anderson: Obviously not! Jim Robson: The Prophet picks up Jeremy Thranton... he has him setup... HE PILEDRIVES THRANTON DOWN ONTO A CHAIR!! Thranton has been knocked unconscious thanks to the Prophet, and the odds are a bit more in the favour of Eric Travers. Jack Anderson: Now Hightower and a bloody Elijah Flynt are getting to their feet... they've seen what has just gone on and both have a look of shock in their face. They can't believe it. It was the Prophet, they're screwed now. Do they really think that he'll make the three count for anyone but Travers? Jim Robson: This is certainly a huge advantage for the Epic One, and I think he might just walk out with the title. Jack Anderson: Get ready to fork over my money Jim! Jim Robson: It's not over yet. Hightower and Elijah Flynt are advancing on Eric Travers while the Prophet is choking out Jeremy Thranton. He doesn't see Flynt and Hightower! Jack Anderson: Oh no! Travers is trying to call the Prophet over for some help, but the Prophet is possessed with destroying Jeremy Thranton! It looks like he wants to end his career! Jim Robson: Travers is backing up into the corner as Hightower and Flynt advance... wait, hold on... Jack Anderson: WHAT!? I don't believe it! Jim Robson: MY GOD!! ELIJAH FLYNT JUST GRABBED HIGHTOWER FROM BEHIND... FLYNT NAILS HIGHTOWER WITH THE COCKNEY SPIKE!!!!!! Elijah Flynt has just turned on Hightower, and the fans are in shock! Jack Anderson: I'm in shock! Jim Robson: Elijah Flynt is stomping on Hightower, making sure he stays down. Eric Travers is up to his feet and is now climbing the turnbuckles. Jack Anderson: Flynt now picks up Hightower and sets him up... SPIKE PILEDRIVER BY FLYNT AND TRAVERS!!! [The fans loudly boo Flynt, Travers and the Prophet as they all high-five each other.] Jim Robson: I cannot believe it. Eric Travers, Elijah Flynt and the Prophet are all high-fiving each other in the centre of the ring. They're proud of what they did. They fooled Jeremy Thranton and Hightower. They fooled the fans. They fooled the World. Eric Travers was right, someone would turn, but he didn't tell us that two people would turn. Jack Anderson: This is great! I love it! The fans might, but who cares about them? Jim Robson: Who saw this coming? I don't think anyone did. Flynt, Travers and the Prophet are now clearing the ring of Hightower and Jeremy Thranton. They're dumping them to the outside. Jack Anderson: What does it matter? They're both completely unconscious - not moving an inch! Just get them out of the ring. Jim Robson: Flynt and Travers are now shaking hands in the centre of the ring. It looks like they're going to fight it out. Jack Anderson: I get it... their alliance is based on respect. These two respect the hell out of each other. I mean, look at some of the battles they have had... the thirty-minute draw back in January? That was a classic! Jim Robson: You're right it was. Elijah Flynt and Eric Travers are locking up. Flynt has Travers in a headlock now... Travers pushes out and sends Flynt into the ropes. Flynt off the ropes and he takes Travers down with a shoulder block. Jack Anderson: Now it's time for some good ol' classic wrestling! Jim Robson: Elijah Flynt picks up Eric Travers. He has him nicely setup... suplex by Flynt... NO! REVERSAL BY TRAVERS! HE GETS THE SNAP SUPLEX! Jack Anderson: Great move. Travers is right back to his feet as Flynt is sitting up. Travers from behind... NECK SNAP BY ERIC TRAVERS! Jim Robson: Travers quickly goes for the pinfall as the Prophet goes for the count... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . FLYNT KICKS OUT! Jack Anderson: It was close. Travers picks Elijah Flynt up off the mat. HOLD ON, SMALL PACKAGE BY ELIJAH FLYNT! THE COUNT... 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . TRAVERS KICKS OUT! Jim Robson: Two very close calls. The Prophet is clapping, cheering on both Travers and Flynt for putting on a good show. Jack Anderson: They certainly are. Flynt and Travers are both to their feet. Flynt with a hip toss to take Travers off his feet, but it doesn't keep him down for long as Travers gets right back up. Jim Robson: And Flynt sends him into the corner. Flynt charges now... BIG SPASH IN THE CORNER! Flynt now whips Travers to the other side... Jack Anderson: Here he comes again! Jim Robson: NO! TRAVERS MOVES AND FLYNT HITS THE TURNBUCKLES! TRAVERS FROM BEHIND... HE ROLLS UP ELIJAH FLYNT! 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.5! . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.75!! . . . . . . . . . . . 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DING! DING! DING! ["Sad But True" by Metallica blares through the loud speakers.] FRANCINE: Here is your winner.... and NEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW IWF/WOW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION... " E P I C " E R I C T R A V E R S ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Jim Robson: We have a new World Champion! Jack Anderson: I told you so! NEW CHAMP! NEW CHAMP! NEW CHAMP! Jim Robson: That fans in the Corel Centre are all still in shock at the turn of the Prophet and Elijah Flynt! [The Prophet grabs the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Title from Francine, and hands it to Travers.] Jack Anderson: We told you so earlier tonight, this would go down as one of the most shocking pay-per-view events of all time. Jim Robson: You're right, no one saw it coming. Sure, a few people thought that the Prophet might join Travers, but no one saw Flynt turning. Most people thought that it was just a hoax by Travers, trying to scare everyone and turn them against each other. [In the ring, Elijah Flynt and the Prophet raise the hand of Eric Travers, as they all hung and celebrate.] Jack Anderson: It looks like someone owes me fifty dollars Jim, what do you think? You didn't think that Travers would walk out of here with the IWF/WOW World Heavyweight Title, but it's true, he is the World Champion once again. Jim Robson: Thanks to the Prophet and Elijah Flynt. Without either of them, I don't think it would have happened. Both Jeremy Thranton and Hightower are still down and out outside of the ring. Jack Anderson: Well, you know, it was a crazy pay-per-view. You can look at the incredible show that Shane St. Clair and Johnny Spades put on while fighting for the Intercontinental Title, Desert Scorpion showing up to wish Thranton luck, only to be attacked by the Franchise Players, Kenneth Halston joining the Franchise Players. Jim Robson: It certainly has been a shocking night, and Flynt and the Prophet forming an alliance with Eric Travers caps it all off. Jack Anderson: You're right it does. This was an amazing night, and WrestleFest V will go down as one of the greatest IWF/WOW events of all time, and I'm sure you'll agree with me there Jim. Jim Robson: I do Jack... I do. Folks, we are out of time. We hope you enjoyed WrestleFest V, so long everyone! [The camera fades from WrestleFest V as Elijah Flynt, the Prophet and Eric Travers all continue to celebrate Travers World Title victory in the ring. Outside of the ring, Hightower and Jeremy Thranton can still be scene down and out.] .___ __ _____________ /\ __ __________ __ __ | / \ / \_ _____/ / / / \ / \_____ \/ \ / \ | \ \/\/ /| __) / / \ \/\/ // | \ \/\/ / | |\ / | \ / / \ // | \ / |___| \__/\ / \___ / / / \__/\ / \_______ /\__/\ / \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ (c) IWF/WOW Productions 2001 http://members.home.com/iwfwow/