[TV14 DSLV] _______ __ _ |_____| | \ | | | | \_| ##### # ####### ### / ###### / / ### ### #/ /# / / / ## ## ## / / / ## # ## ## / / ### ## ## ## ## ## ### ## /### /### ## /## ## ## ### ### ## / ### / / #### / ## / ### /### ## ### ### ## / ###/ ## ###/ ##/ ### / ### ## ### /## ## ## ## #### ## ## ## ## #/ /## ## ## ## ### ## ## ## ## ## #/ ## ## ## ## ### ## ## ### # / # / ## ## ## ### ## ## ### / /## / ## ## /# /### ## ## ## #####/ / ########/ ### / ####/ ## / #### / ## ## ### / ##### ##/ ### ## ###/ ## ## | / \) / / _______ _______ ______ _______ _______ _ _ _______ __ _ _______ | | | |______ | ____ |_____| ___ |______ \ / |______ | \ | | | | | |______ |_____| | | |______ \/ |______ | \_| | ... dead silence ... ... blinding darkness ... ... the scratching of a record ... ... and then ... [A swiveling apparition of the IWF/WOW World Championship smolders twenty feet above a desolate ring in a green pasture beneath a blue, open sky. Then, a voice. Childlike. Flushed with innocence.] "I have this dream ... " [Flickering hallucinations of former champions haunt the canvas below as "We're In This Together" by Nine Inch Nails begins to spin.] " ... I'm staring into the sky, and way up there in the clouds, soaring with eagles, riding the wind ... " [Dark, ominous clouds begin to boil.] " ... is undoubtably everything I've ever wanted. Everything I was meant to be. It's right there just waiting to be claimed. I know all I have to do is reach. The problem is ... " [The once healthy grass dries out and deteriorates into a landscape of dry, cracked dirt.] " ... I lower my eyes to the world around me ... and I see ... I'm not the only one." [Lightning strikes the belt. Piping hot, white embers violently transition to a vision of ... ] [ ... a war torn "Legacy" Paul Kiljoy gripping one end of the IWF/WOW World Championship. Matthew Reason kneeling at his side latched to the other.] # I've become ... Impossible # Holding on ... To when # When everything seemed to matter more ["Suicidal" Nate McMannis and Maverick walk the aisle armed with baseball bats.] # The two of us # All used and beaten up # Watching fate ... As it flows # Down the path ... We have chose [Trevor Storm lobs a baseball bat through the air and into the unexpecting hands of Justin Arcola.] # YOU AND ME # WE'RE IN THIS TOGETHER NOW # NONE OF THEM CAN STOP US NOW # WE WILL MAKE IT THROUGH SOMEHOW [A cone of light around "Dreamlover" Trey Porter as Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines narrow eyes gleam in the darkness.] # YOU AND ME # IF THE WORLD SHOULD BREAK IN TWO # UNTIL THE VERY END OF ME # UNTIL THE VERY END OF YOU [Storm and Arcola topple a ladder, launching Reason and McMannis to the cruel world the below.] # Awaken to the sound as they peel apart the skin # They pick and they pull # Trying to get their fingers in [Kiljoy frantically abandons the ring as DTP races to Gunnar's rescue.] # Well they've gotta kill what we've found # Well they've gotta hate what they fear # Well they've gotta make it go away # Well they've gotta make it disappear [Mingling shots of McMannis driving a bat into the base of Storm's skull and Maverick going all Barry Bonds on Arcola's back.] # The further I fall, I'm beside you # As lost as I get I will find you # The deeper the wound I'm inside you # Forever and ever I AM APART OF [Reason paints Kiljoy's face with a scolding backhand that seats him on the concrete.] # YOU AND ME # WE'RE IN THIS TOGETHER NOW # NONE OF THEM CAN STOP US NOW # WE WILL MAKE IT THROUGH SOMEHOW [Arcola raises the chin of a kneeling Storm with the barrel of Louisville Slugger.] # YOU AND ME # IF THE WORLD SHOULD BREAK IN TWO # UNTIL THE VERY END OF ME # UNTIL THE VERY END OF YOU [Gaines locks suspcious eyes with a smirking DTP.] # YOU AND ME # EVEN AFTER EVERYTHING # YOU'RE THE QUEEN AND I'M THE KING [Kiljoy vaults through a veil of flames separating him from McMannis -- Gaines Grizzly Slams Reason over the top rope, through a burning table -- Maverick gores Storm through the ropes -- Reason piledrives DTP onto a steel chair -- Arcola palm strikes Kiljoy into oblivion] # NOTHING ELSE MEANS ANYTHING __ _ _____ _ ___ __ __ / _\ ___| |_ \_ \ |_ /___\/ _|/ _| \ \ / _ \ __| / /\/ __| // // |_| |_ _\ \ __/ |_ /\/ /_ | |_ / \_//| _| _| \__/\___|\__| \____/ \__| \___/ |_| |_| [We pan the Mayhem Arena, discovering a slightly readjusted Graphic Nature ambience. All the banners, including the ring skirt, have been replaced with "I-Slash Presents: SET IT OFF" emblems.] [The camera caresses pockets of rowdy I-Slash fanatics and a bouqet of colorful signs. We zoom in on a few of them, which read "PLEASE DON'T GO, MACK!" -- "Echo! Echo!" -- "Where's Jeff Matthews?" -- "DTH: Don't Trust Hades!" -- "History's Next Derranged Champion!" -- "SUPER TOOLS!"] [We dip to the ring, where Francine stands front and center, dressed in a pair of tight leather pants and a form fitting "Girls Gone Wild" tank top.] FRANCINE: WELCOME TO TORONTO, ONTARIO, CANADA!! [REPRESENT!!!!] FRANCINE: WELCOME TO THE MAYHEM ARENA!! [OUR HOUSE!!!!] FRANCINE: ARE YOU READY TO _SET_ ... _IT_ ... _OFF_!!? "I-SLASH!!!!! I-SLASH!!!!! I-SLASH!!!!!" "I-SLASH!!!!! I-SLASH!!!!! I-SLASH!!!!!" "I-SLASH!!!!! I-SLASH!!!!! I-SLASH!!!!!" "I-SLASH!!!!! I-SLASH!!!!! I-SLASH!!!!!" [Francine pumps her fist in the air, melting hearts with that angelic grin as she crosses the ring and climbs out. We transition to Owen Ambrose and Cordell Crane loitering by the ring post nearest the broadcast table. Owen wears his ordinary white polo shirt with I-Slash crest and slacks. Cordell wears a gray "Hawk Skateboarding" t-shirt and sand bronze leather pants.] OA: Thank you, Francine! CC: I'll show her MY gratitude later. OA: Outta you're league, bro. Welcome to SET IT OFF, ladies and gentlemen! I'm Owen Ambrose, and alongside me is-- CC: They call me the lady killah! The ORGINAL serial thrillah! Naughty with the body ... never ... goin' to the ... potty ... don't call me Scotty ... in the backseat with the hottie ... eh ... I don't know karate ... did I already use naughty? OA: Just bail, man. CC: You don't have to be so snotty. OA: Cordell's ill fated lunge at a catchphrase aside, this is THE NIGHT we've been waiting for, fans! The event the entire wrestling world has hinged on for the past two months! We've got tables! We've got ladders! We've got chairs! We've got eight of the premiere athletes in the squared circle today! We've got nothing less than an IWF/WOW WORLD TITLE MATCH! CC: I can't believe no one's bothered to scratch the surface of this whole debacle! OA: What are you talking about? CC: The obvious ramifications, Owen! After one of the greatest reigns as world champion the I-Slash has ever seen, "Legacy" Paul Kiljoy has to pretty much throw his title into the air and climb over seven other people to get it BACK!? I'm not one to question Brian Nelson's visions, believe me, but he's REALLY shackled Kiljoy tonight. OA: He's certainly set a difficult task in front of the champion, but BEING IWF/WOW World Champion is about proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are the very BEST at what you do. As far as I'm concerned this is an OPPORTUNITY for Paul Kiljoy. He has the chance to turn back SEVEN challengers all in one night. CC: You and your silver lining crap! OA: There's always a sunny side, partner, but Kiljoy's not the only champion facing an uncertain future tonight. "Epic" Eric Travers is the EWA Heavyweight Champion and that makes him a big neon target in Caleb Temple's bleak little world. CC: Well parading around here with the EWA Heavyweight Title stuck to his waist PUTS Eric Travers in Temple's world. Temple never lost that title. No one EVER nailed his shoulders to the mat long enough to justify handing it to someone else. OA: Temple walked away, and that's that! He forfeited ANY right he had to claim the belt is still his when he walked out of the Extreme Wrestling Assocation many years ago, but his warped slant on reality has nevertheless lured him back to where it all began. CC: And where he's going to END IT! OA: That remains to be see-- ["101 North" by Tomahawk begins to play over the PA to a huge pop from the crowd.] OA: Well, this is a surprise! CC: Yeah, I'm tickled pink. Really. I wonder what the heck Spector's gotta say.. he doesn't look too happy. [Crane is correct, as Spector walks with a purpose down the aisle. He rolls into the ring underneath the bottom rope, and motions for the music to be cut. After "101 North" fades, he's handed a microphone.] SPECTOR: Hey.. thanks for coming, everyone. [Huge pop from the crowd as Spector nods.] SPECTOR: I think I'm owed an explanation. OA: I think Spector's about to call out his tag team partner, Cordell. CC: That's a big mistake! I saw Hades earlier tonight, he looked ready to rip some heads right off! He's looking forward to that match with Super Cool, and he doesn't even care about his partner, that man right there in the ring! SPECTOR: Later tonight, we're gonna be facin' Super Cool... [Mixed pop from the crowd at the mention of the name Super Cool.] SPECTOR: ..and I'd like to get an explanation from my tag team partner, Hades.. about that match I had with Mack Ensassarol. I didn't appreciate him comin' out and tryin' to ruin that match. I wanted Mack and me to have a great match before Mack had to leave for a year cuz of his neck... So Hades.. come on down! VOICE OFF CAMERA: Look at the big hero. CC: That's not Hades, Steve... [SURPRISE RETURN POP!] [Cut to the ramp. Out from the entrance way comes a leather duster clad Shocker Mack Ensasserol in a neck brace. He calmly walks toward the ring, never taking his eyes off of Spector.] OA: Well look who's back! Mack looks all business. CC: All business? He has a broken neck for christ sake! Do you expect him to do friggin cartwheels to the ring? MACK: Look at the man's man. Look everyone. Look at the legend that is Steve Spector. [Mack gingerly walks up the stairs and through the ropes into the ring, heavily favoring his neck.] MACK: Let me interrupt this self obsessed rant for a moment. Let me tell you kids a story. You can hear this too, Stevie. One year ago to this day, a young bleached blond rookie first walked into the Mayhem Area. The future before him and a sparkle of youth in his eye. His name was...The Sunshine Kid. [THAT WAS A HORRIBLE GIMMICK POP!] MACK: He languished in mid card status for a few months, dancing and catering to these fans. Then one day he woke up and said to himself: " I can't do this anymore. I have to be myself." Thus "The Shocker" was born. That cat went on to win the UWC tourney and become the first E_W_A Champion in the new millennium. [He begins to pace around the ring as Spector looks on, leaning up against the turnbuckle and yawning.] MACK: It all began......One year ago. And now.......... [Mack puts his head down and squints.] MACK: As many of you know, my neck is in a bad way. Actually, it was in bad shape prior to the match with this guy. [He stops pacing and looks Spector square in the face. Spector nods slowly in reponse.] MACK: That's just part of this business isn't it, Spector? We come out to this ring every show and put our bodies on the line just to entertain these fans. Every once in a while, it catches up with us. That's what happened to me. [Mack takes his eyes off Spector and resumes pacing around the ring.] MACK: When I was first told about the surgery.....I thought: "GREAT! I can take 12 months off and come back bigger, badder, and better than before." Sorry kids, that ain't going to happen. OA: Is he saying what I think he's saying? CC: Oh lord...... MACK: (holding up three fingers) I have to get------Three----count em'---- THREE vertebrae fused together. You fans might not know what the hell that means, but you know----- [turns to Spector] Don't ya Stevie? [Spector nods.] MACK: What does it mean? Tell me. [Mack goes six inches from Steve Spector's face.] MACK: TELL ME GODDAMN IT!!! SPECTOR: You don't have to yell. [Spector narrows his eyes and stares straight into Mack's eyes.] SS: Unless a miracle happens, Mack.. you can kiss your career goodbye. [SURPRISE POP!] CC: God no...... MACK: That's right! MY WRESTLING CAREER IS OVER! I'm finished. Say goodbye to me, kids. And.....why is it over? Because you had to beat me. You had to get your shot at the E-dubya-A title. All I wanted was to go out with a awesome match with a man that I thought respected me enough to know that my neck was off limits. You showed your true colors, Spector. [Mack points to his brace as his face begins to change from white to red.] 25 pounds of gold made you do this. 25 pounds of gold made you hit me with not one but two friggin' goddess's cutters. 25 POUNDS OF GOLD MAKE YOU END MY CAREER!!!! SPECTOR: Ya know.. Mack.. [Spector shakes his head.] SPECTOR: Ya know.. my back's in crappy shape, and you were goin' after it in order to win. What did ya expect me to do? That's what ya gotta do to win, Mack.. I figured ya would know that by now.. But since that match ruined your neck.. since that match ruined your career.. all I have to say is.. [Spector looks straight into Mack's eyes once again.] SPECTOR: I'm sorry. [Surprised pop!] MACK: Sorry? SORRY?!? YOU SON OF A BITCH!!! That's all you have to say to me? Maybe I should shake your hand? Maybe I should say: " Hey it's cool. " Golly gee, Mr. Spector, thanks for ending my career, you Jersey Jerk-off. SPECTOR: Settle down, Mack.. [Spector's starting to get a bit frustrated that Mack's inches from his face screaming at him.] SPECTOR: With the shape your neck's in.. I don't wanna have to _MAKE_ you settle down. [Pop!] MACK: What more can you do, Steve? Beat up a man with a broken neck? Maybe.....KILL ME?? Go ahead....give me one more Goddess Cutter. One more ride!. C'mon Spector! Show these fans that your not too good to beat up a cripple!!! DO IT SPECTOR! DO IT! SPECTOR: I'm getting real sick of this, Mack.. you're standin' here, blamin' me for what's gone down with your neck over the last few months.. and you're expectin' me to snap it with the Goddess Cutter? [Spector looks to his side, as if he's looking for something.] SPECTOR: We're not havin' a match, Mack. There's nothin' in it for me if I drop you right here and now.. You want me to prove that I'm not too good to beat up a cripple.. You're pathetic. [Mack backs away from Spector and begins to walk away.] MACK: Great. I'm pathetic. Wonderful. That's how I want to be remembered as: A pathetic broken man. That's my legacy. [Bleep] you all. I'm gone. [GLAD YOUR LEAVING POP!] [Mack steps through the ropes. He stops and puts his hand on the bridge of his nose.] MACK: No. No, I'm not going to leave like this. I'M NOT GOING OUT LIKE THIS!!!! [He steps back into the ring and looks at Steve Spector with a certain amount of contempt. The Shocker then turns toward the camera and in a somber tone he begins to speak.] MACK: Now that I'm leaving the I Slash, I want to get something off my chest. You people may not have liked me----but damn it. Every time I was booked for a match, I'd do everything in my power to give you one hell of a match. [Tears start to form on his face.] MACK: Since I was 7 years of age I've had the dream of becoming a pro-wrestler. For one calendar year, I was able to live that dream. I was able to stand across the ring from the very best in this business and prove that I had the makings of a future legend. Now that the dream is ending, I want to----- ---to use an industry term----break character and.. Thank you fans. [I DIDN"T EXPECT THAT POP!] CC: What the frig? MACK: I want to thank each and every one of you who came along this wacky ride side by side with me. With your help ....I was able to have the greatest time of my life. Thanks. Shock TV is now over. [THUNDEROUS FACE POP!] OA: I never thought I say this, but the fans are standing and clapping for Mack Ensasserol! [Camera cuts to the announce table, where Crane and Ambrose both rise to there feet.] "SHOCK-ER!!!! SHOCK-ER!!!!" "SHOCK-ER!!!! SHOCK-ER!!!!" "SHOCK-ER!!!! SHOCK-ER!!!!" "SHOCK-ER!!!! SHOCK-ER!!!!" "SHOCK-ER!!!! SHOCK-ER!!!!" CC: He may not have been the biggest or the best, but that kid had more heart than anyone I've ever met. OA: At 23 years of age, Mack Ensasserol's career is over. I may not have always liked him, but you have to give him your respect to the man. [Mack stands in the ring visibly choked up from the fans support.] "SHOCK-ER!!!! SHOCK-ER!!!!" "SHOCK-ER!!!! SHOCK-ER!!!!" "SHOCK-ER!!!! SHOCK-ER!!!!" "SHOCK-ER!!!! SHOCK-ER!!!!" "SHOCK-ER!!!! SHOCK-ER!!!!" [Suddenly, Spector walks over and yanks the mike out of Mack's hand.] [SCATTERING OF BOOS!] CC: That jerk! Let Mack enjoy this moment! SPECTOR: Hey.. [The mixed reaction continues as Spector backs off a second.] SPECTOR: There's a first time for everything. [Spector chuckles as he thought about what Mack had just said.] SS: These people.. night in and night out, we all have to put our bodies on the line and entertain 'em. No matter what we choose to act like in the ring and in front of these TV cameras.. they're the ones that we have to entertain... It's sad to see you go. You had a lot goin' for ya.. and youcoulda been one of the next big superstars. You're certainly one of the most.. unique people I've ever had the pleasure of facin'. [Steve walks back towards Mack and extends his hand.] OA: You can cut the tension with a knife. [Mack looks at Spector with a little bit of anger. He takes a deep breath and..............] [ROOF SHATTERING POP!] OA: HE SHOOK IT! MACK JUST SHOOK THE HAND OF THE MAN THAT ENDED HIS CAREER! CC: Just when I thought I saw everything in this sport...... [The pop continues as Spector raises Mack's hand.] OA: Goodbye Shocker. Farewell. [Flashbulbs go off as the two turn to each corner with there arms in the air. Mack, with his face covered in tears, wraps his arms around The Jersey legend, giving him a manly hug.] "BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!" OA: What the---- [Steve Spector's body collapses to the ground as the fan's cheers start to die down.] CC: Did Spector pass out from all the emotion? [Mack stands over top of the man that some consider the best ever in wrestling and pulls out a cattle prod from his duster.] OA: That son of a bitch! [He rips off his neck brace and throws it onto to Spector's prone body. Mack turns slowly toward the camera giving the fans the most evil stupid goofy grin imaginable.] [CALL THE COPS HEEL HEAT!] OA: THAT SON OF A BITCH!!! [Mack reaches down and grabs the mike.] MACK: WELCOME BACK TO REALITY, STEVIE! No career ending injury! No sweet farewell! All you get its one pissed off Shocker! [The fans start littering the ring with all types of garbage.] MACK: You morons all fell for it! You stupid ignorant sheep, fell for it! HAHAHAHAHAH!!!! CC: It's a miracle! The Shocker is healed! OA: OH SHUT THE HELL UP, CRANE! Mack was never hurt! This is one of the most distasteful things I've ever seen. I hope Steve Spector beats the living hell out of that cocky punk! [Spector starts to push himself up.] [Mack smirks and pushes the cattle prod into the former world champion's neck.] "BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!" "BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!" "BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!" CC: THE SHOCKER IS SHOCKING THE HELL OUT OF STEVE SPECTOR! YOU CAN SMELL THE FLESH BAKING FROM HERE!!! OA: DAMN IT! SOMEBODY GET THE HELL OUT HERE AND STOP THIS! [Spector tries to claw toward Mack.] "BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!" MACK: Forget about Ego's and Icons. Forget about the EWA title. Forget about Nelson. Forget about Temple and Travers. They mean nothing now. You have a new worst enemy. His name is "T H E S H O C K E R" M A C K E N S A S S A R O L ! ! ! [KILL THAT MAN HEAT!] [Mack drops the mike on the mat as The Bloodhound Gang's "No Rest for the Wicked" begins to blare over the loud speakers. He lifts both arms in the air as the fan's garbage continues to pelt him.] OA: Mack Ensasserol's career might not be over, but when Steve Spector is done with him, he'll wish it was! [Mack exits the ring, as paramedics roll in to check on Spector. Spector's trying to push himself back to his feet as the paramedics tell him to stay down. Spector starts to get to his feet, but then collapses to the mat. He crawls towards the ropes, and tries to pull himself to his feet using them. The look on his face is one of vengeance and furious anger as the paramedics tell him to stay put. He trembles a bit, both from shock and anger as the paramedics slowly take him out of the ring and assist him to the back.] OA: He's hurt badly.. he can barely stand.. and can't go back under his own power.. CC: What's this gonna do for the tag team title match, Owen? I bet Spector probably concocted this little stunt so he doesn't have to team with Hades to take on Super Cool! Yea! He's AFRAID! OA: Wha.. What the hell? How can you FAKE something like THIS? Come on! I... ugh.. let's go backstage or something.. Jesus.. [Camera cuts to the back, outside the Mayhem Arena. We see Anthony Edwards standing by the entryway.] AE: Thanks guys...I can't believe the depths Mack Ensassarol just sunk to. Hopefully we'll get an update on the condition of Steve Spector shortly, but for now I'm standing out here, waiting for... *SCREECH* [A large black hummer pulls into the parking lot, and stops near where Ewards is standing. It is jet black, with what appears to be red spots of blood across the front.] AE: What the heck is this? [The doors open and Jawaad Mahmood jumps out, along with Overkill and Demolisher, the Killing Machines. All three are wearing the new Killing Machines t-shirt.] MAHMOOD: Hey Anthony...we couldn't let a big event like "Set It Off" occur without a grand entrance from the Killing Machines? Edwards: Don't you guys usually just stumble in through the waitstaff entrance in back? OVERKILL: Quiet Edwards...you'll note our fancy new wheels we have here! AE: And just what is this monstrosity? MAHMOOD: This is the Kill-Mobile! Pretty awesome isn't it? But that's not why we're here right now...I wanted to take this opportunity to introduce the newest piece of merchandise endorsed by the Killing Machines... [Jawaad reaches into the inside of his leather jacket...and pulls out what appears to be a plain grey lead pipe.] MAHMOOD: Ta-da! Take a look at the K-Bar! The only potentially lethal weapon endorsed by your favorite I-Slash tag team! It bashes, and smashes, and it... OVERKILL: It's shiny! DEMOLISHER: And it's only $39.95! Call 1-800-IWFWOW1 and order yours today! MAHMOOD: Let's go guys, we have a match to get ready for! AE: Well...that...was something. Back to you guys! o--------------------------------------o o------< TAG TEAM BATTLE ROYAL >-------o o--------------------------------------o FRANCINE: The opening contest is is a TAG TEAM BATTLE ROYAL!! When one member of a team has been eliminated, his partner MUST retreat from the ringside area as well! CC: TAG TEAM ACTION, OH YEA!!! OA: Great intro there, Cordell. Very witty. Now I know why Nelson pays you the big bucks. CC: Ahhh, shut up, Ambrose. Didn't you read Slash Journalism? Tag team wrestling _sucks_! All these teams suck! Except for Super Cool, and they're not even IN this match, BOOYAH! OA: I think you, as well as a lot of know-it-all critics, are SERIOUSLY underestimating the art of tag team wrestling, especially in the I-Slash. while other promotions have chosen to abandon their tag divisions, the I Slash continues to produce and attract consistent, solid talent to join its ranks. We've got some of the best teams in the industry out here tonight! CC: Whatever. I'll see it when I do. FRANCINE: Introducing first ... # THERE'S EVERY GOOD REASON--! # [The crowd rises to their feet! As Third Eye Blind's "Never Let You Go" hits the speakers, they begin to stomp in rhythm with the frenetic beat! Confetti begins to drop all over the arena. They know who's coming!] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Sacramento, California, weighing 240 pounds, here is ... E C H O [Crowd: "ECHOOOO000oooo!!!"] D A R E ! ! ! FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH! [3 huge fireballs explode from the I-Sore entranceway as Echo Dare leaps onto the stage! Adrena Lyn Rusch, with Monkey perched on her shoulders appears shortly behind her man. The crowd begins to chant "EchoEcho,DareDare!" as the flamboyant superstar runs at full speed down the ramp, raising himself up on the ring apron. He flashes his Signature Smile to the crowd before jumping over the top rope before and spinning around wildly!] # I'll never let you go! # # I'll never let you go! # [Spotlights hit him from all angles as he lifts himself up onto the second turnbuckle, pumping his fist to the now-frenzied crowd!] OA: Echo is coming out to a huge ovation... but look, no Cardiac! Echo was recently assaulted at the hands of his own tag team partner, who seems to have joined the HOA, which Echo spurned for a long time. CC: Awww man, I can't believe this cheap piece of Cajun trash is actually going to push through with this! Go HOME, nimrod! This is a TAG match! And take that damn monkey with ya. Uhh-- you can leave Adrena please... OA: Pig. ["The Boys Are Back In Town" plays as Garrett Jax and Sammy Griffin walk the aisle to a decent face pop.] OA: Another show of fan support here in the arena for the Boys Next Door. After failing in their first try on the hunt once again for a shot at Super Cool's titles. CC: Well, the Crap Next Door better keep searchin', cause no tag team can snag those titles offa Scott and Coles. 4-1-1, baby! OA: I'll have to disagree with you on that one. In the past, the Boys have certainly proved that they are one of the best tag teams in I Slash history, right up there with the Lethal Leaders and the Killing Machines. And you can quote me on that. ["Enter Sandman" by Metallica begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd cheers loudly.] CC: Hey, great segueway... FRANCINE: Hailing from New York, New York, at a combined weight of five-hundred and five pounds, here are ... OVERKILL! DEMOLISHER! T H E K I L L I N G M A C H I N E S ! ! ! ["Midnight" Jawaad bin Mahmood first comes out during the opening chords of "Enter Sandman". He is dressed in a long black leather jacket, with his "NICW" t-shirt underneath. He also has a black bandana on his head. He pauses at the top of the entrance ramp, the raises both of his fists up. Two red balls of flame suddenly go up as the music kicks into high gearŠand Overkill and Demolisher suddenly appear behind Mahmood! The three slowly walk to the ring, looking forward with purpose. Mahmood jaws with the fans a little. They are wearing matching sunglasses, black leather biker jackets, gloves, boots, and tights. Their tights are mainly black, with a few white markings for decoration, and the name of each wrestler emblazoned on the right leg. As they enter the ring, they remove their jackets and shades. Jawaad Mahmood then raises up the arms of both men, and then they start pacing around the ring, waiting for their opponents. "Enter Sandman" dissipates.] OA: ROUSING fan support for Demolisher and Overkill! CC: BAH. They suck. OA: On Trash Talk, Overkill and Demolisher reiterated they're desire to take over the federation once again. And just looking at them coming out tonight-- they look like they're ready to step it up. CC: Shut up man! Jawaad's throwing t-shirts! Over HERE! [True. Right beside the MAchines, their manager, "Midnight" Jawaad Mahmood is throwing printings of the new Killing Machines t-shirt to the audience, which is, obviously, just eating it up. FREE T-SHIRTS POP!!! A $19.95 value!] OA: Hypocrite. CC: Hey, I'll do anything for free. Just don't tell that to Arcola. OA: * sigh * "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! INTRODUCING, THE CHOCOLATE STARFISH!" "AND THE HOT DOG FLAVORED WATER!" ["Hotdog" by Limp Bizkit begins to play over the loudspeakers.] # BRING IT ON! OA: And here comes Justin Abel and Crazy Brave, Intent to Injure! CC: Oh, they're _still_ with us? OA: Shut it, Cordell. Lukewarm crowd response here--some booing, some cheering. Interesting what Brave's got on his skateboard tonight, though. Take a look. FRANCINE: First from Detroit, Michigan standing 6 feet 4 inches and weighing 250 pounds ... JUSTIN VINCE ABEL! ... and his partner is from the reservation outside of Carlsbad, California standing 6 feet 2 inches and weighing 218 pounds ... CRAZY BRAVE! They are ... I N T E N T T O I N J U R E ! ! ! [Abel is wearing a Detroit Red Wings jersey with the number 12 and his last name on the back, red amatuer wrestling tights and white and red boots. He has short dark brown crew cut hair and is clean shaven. Crazy Brave is part Native American with long dark brown hair that reaches down his back. He is wearing knee length tan shorts and shoes. They walk confidently to the ring ignoring the fans and enter the ring. They stand on the second turnbuckle in opposite corners and execute the I2I hand sign (flip the bird, victory sign then flip the bird.)] CC: Eh? [The camera cuts close to Brave, who is holding a plastic bag full of... ] CC: D-d-dixie cups?! OA: Well, you heard him at Trash Talk. He challenged "Dixie" Davis Washingtonto to a Dixie Cup Death Match; this might be another ploy to force Washinton's hand. Some ring psychology on the part of I2I. ["Rifles" by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club starts playing over the arena's sound system, and is immediately met by an enormous chorus of boos.] FRANCINE: Now making their way to the ring, at a total combined weight of 505 pounds ... "DIXIE" DAVIS WASHINGTON! JOHN REVERE! I N F I N I T E J U S T I C E ! ! ! [The boos explode into a mass onslaught of insults, taunts, and catcalls as Davis Washington and John Revere walk to ringside. Both are smirking with arrogance. Washington's hair dangles down, unkempt, to his shoulders. He wears a t-shirt that says "Live and Die in Dixie" and blue jeans, and instead of wrestling boots he wears black leather cowboy boots. He walks a few steps ahead of his partner, John Revere. Unlike Washington, Revere is cleancut, almost to a fault. There isn't a bit of stubble on his cleft chin, and his thick brown hair is tied back into a short but neat pony tail. He is shirtless but wears red white and blue star spangled wrestling tights and scowls at the fevered fans.] #I see the rifles coming over the hills #And if I shout maybe they'll stop and won't kill [Dixie pauses momentarily and exchanges words with a fan. Though it is impossible to make out what he is saying over the howlings of the thousands of fans, it is obviously derogatory as Dixie points and laughs. A couple of fans actually cheer for the team, waving miniature American flags, but quickly stop when John points them out to Dixie and mouths something that looks suspiciously like "This is what is wrong with America today."] CC: _FINALLY_, a team that I give a damn about! See, that's why they're called Infinite Justice. Just having them in the ring is enough to balance out all the crap in there right now! OA: Yeah? But when Greater Good inevitably interferes, its gonna swing back to the "crap" side. CC: What are you talking about?! Greater Good is ABOVE such chicanery, Ambrose. #I see the colours in your eyes #I see the images I own #I see more colours in your eyes #I see the reflections from purple skies [Infinite Justice reaches the ring. Dixie hops up onto the apron and turns to regard the crowd, sneering. John Revere takes the ringsteps, and ignores the boos behind him.] OA: Do I LOOK like Jeff Matthews to you? I actually _attend_ our events, Cordell. CC: Maybe Jeff's ABOVE such mediocrity-- like the one we're about to see in the ring. Wake me up in about... le'see, nine guys... about twenty minutes, Ambrose. That should cover it. Or if Super Cool runs in. [In the ring: the nine gentlemen-- yeah right -- eye each other, each team taking a corner with Echo gravitating somewhere between the Boys and I2I. Fan anticipation is starting to mount.] OA: EXPLANATION OF THE RULES: teams are eliminated from the match if ANY member of their team is thrown over the top rope and has his feet tough the outside floor. The last remaining team becomes the number one contender to the tag titles, which shall be contested between Super Cool and Hades and ... Well we HOPE Spector later on, though his condition is still being monitered. Other than that-- anything's fair game. CC: It's hardcore, daddy! [Crazy Brave immediately starts jawing from across the ring with Davis Washington. The Machines stare intimidatingly at the Boys, who fiercely return the gesture. Things are about to get _nasty_.] DING! DING! [POP!] OA: Aaaaand here we go! [Alright, instead of writing a long paragraph you'll probably end up skipping -- yeah I'm wise to you, punk -- I'll just simply describe what's happening in the ring right now as PURE, UNRELENTING, UNADULTERATED, UNCOOKED, CROWD THRILLING __CHAOS__!!! CHAOS MADE FLESH, AND MULTIPLIED BY NINE!!! OH YEAH!!!] CC: Wow, Ambrose! That looks like pure, unrelenting, unadulterated, uncooked, crowd-- OA: Oh, will you STOP!? [Definition of PURE CHAOS: a lot of punches thrown. And kicks.] OA: Listen to this crowd! [The Machines immediately start things off by running straight for the Boys Next Door! Surprised by the outright viciousness of the Machines, the Boys recoil back, unprepared. ] OA: The Machines really taking it hard to the Boys! CC: That just sounded _wrong_. [Double clothesline combo by the Machines on the Boys! Overkill's was of the "flying" variety.] OA: The Machines showing brutal offense-- the only kind they know-- right from the get go. They want respect, and laying out the Boys this early will go a long way towards that end. We'll see what happens. I think there's genuine bad blood there. [Crowd offers a mixed reaction-- some of them like the BND...] CC: How so? OA: You heard them on trash talk. They feel that Sammy and Jax left them hanging a few months back when things were looking to heat up between the two teams. CC: I see. [Machines stomping action~!] OA: You... aren't listening to me are you? CC: Nope. Checking out Adrena's ass. OA: Hopeless... CC: Well, I guess it could use a bit more firming up, but i wouldn't go so far as to label it "hopeless," although compared to someone like Kelly or Tricia-- [POP! Overkill drops Sammy with a spinning heel kick!] OA: I was talking about _you_. CC: Oh. Carry on then. [MEANWHILE... Abel and Brave have begun the match by selectively targetting Echo Dare. The camera pans to the three just as Echo bounces off the ropes--] OA: OUCH! Double backdrop! Echo must have fallen ten feet! CC: Too bad Cardiac's not here, or he woulda helped 'em. [Now its I2I with stomping action~!] OA: Of course not! They're _partners_, dammit! CC: Hah. And you say you watch our shows? Didn't you see what happened? Cardiac's with the HOA now! OA: Maybe its a set-up, or a trick... CC: Don't count on it. Hey, you want a "set up?" Check out I2I. [Abel irish whips Echo... right into a spring board dropick by Brave! POP!] CC: Excellent continuit shown by I2I in the early goings. OA: Well... they're only fighting one guy. CC: And whose fault is that? [Abel pauses to smile and pose for the cameras. Brave lands a juicy 4 kick combo to groggy Echo's face!] CC: Let's see him try to pick up chicks with his mug now! [Brave tries an irish whip... and Echo reverses with a flying clothesline!] OA: Excellent battle there between Brave and Echo... two of the better high-flyers in all of the I Slash today! [Echo gets up quickly, and catches the turning Abel with a Lou Thesz press! Echo punching away! Left! Right! Left! Crowd loving it!] CC: If Echo wins this tourney, I'm quitting. OA: Seriously?! GO ECHO!!! CC: Then again... where would I go? I hear EMWC's looking to expand... [AAAGH! Brave with a shining wizard like kick to the back of Echo's head! Abel pushes him off, and begins stomping away in fury! He locks on an ankle lock...] CC: Good technique, try to take away the legs of the flyer. OA: Yeah he's a REAL smart ass. Speaking of smart asses, where's Infinite Justice? [Camera pans over to a corner far away from th action, where Washinton and Revere are sitting back, leaning on the ropes, smiling and pointing at the other competitors going at it.] OA: Those damn IJers! CC: Hahaha, that's brilliant strategy! OA: Or cowardice! CC: Strategy! OA: Cowardice! CC: They're biding their time, looking for an opening... OA: They're cowards, and you know it!!! CC: I tell ya-- IJ is the most underrated team out there. They're talented, charismatic, and as being displayed right NOW, _intelligent_! That's why they're the champs daddy! OA: They aren't the champions. CC: They _will_ be. [Yep, PURE CHAOS in the ring.] OA: Tremendous action going on right now, folks! CC: I'll agree to that. I guess all these guys are hungry, with the way my man Coles and YOUR NUMBAH FOUR Scotty are dominating this sorry-ass "division." [Echo spins out of th ankle lock, sending Abel flying. Brave immediately kicks Echo in the gut as he stands up.] OA: We'll try to keep on top of this madness for you viewers... CC: Whaddayamean "we?" That's your job! I'm just here to add my special brand of wit to the package. OA: Brave irish whips Echo to the corner-- [POP!!!] OA: ECHO ALMOST ELIMINATED REVERE, WHO WAS STILL "STRATEGIZING" IN THE CORNER, WITH A FLYING CLOTHESINE!!! Hahaha, lookit his face! Those two cowards were almost the first team eliminated! CC: Not cowards. Strategists. OA: Drop it. [Enraged, Davis begins pummeling away on Echo, driving him to the corner. Revere joins in as the two start kicking the tar outta Echo Dare...] CC: Oooooh, Echo's SO dead now! I2I is one thing, but a two on one situation against I-Jay!?! Fuggedaboutid, daddy! OA: Still no team eliminated. Brave looks over at the Machines and the Boys-- [POPPAGE! Sling shot hurracarana on Demolisher, taking the big man down! Abel surprises Overkill with a rock bot-- er, uranage!] OA: I2I now targetting the Machines, giving the Boys time to rest. CC: And Echo still getting pummeled. OA: Demolisher gets up, blocks a few of Brave's punches, and knocks him down with a stiff right! But Garrett Jax makes the save with a big German suplex from behind! CC: UNFAIR! OA: Looks like BND and I2I are still in some sort of alliance from ICB. ["Bullfrog" powerslams Demolisher! Raw display of strength!] CC: ICB... ahhh, now that was an event... OA: No time to get nostalgic, Cordell! Besides, tonight's card is just as good! Just look at this tremendous tag team action! Say what you want-- but tag team wrestling is NOT dead, especially not here, in the I Slash!!! [POP! Crazy Brave with the split legged moonsault on Demolisher!] CC: Mark. OA: What did you say? CC: Nothin'... hey, remember those drugs the Machines we're on earlier this year? Bet they wish they still had 'em, cause they're getting punished right now! OA: True. Not even the Machines can stop FOUR men, let alone four of the caliber of Jax, Abel, Brave, and Griffin. [Nearby, Overkill begins trading blows with Abel! But Sammy takes him down with a shoulder block to the knee. 'Kill grasps his leg in pain. With the crowd egging him on, Sammy heads to the top!] OA: High risk manaeuver! [Sammy flies and POP!] OA: __DEATH FROM ABOVE__!!! Right on Overkill! That's a modified frog splash-headbutt combo! Overkill is out! The Killing Machines might be the very FIRST team eliminated! CC: Maaan, that would make you look like the dumbest turd ever! C'mon guys! Toss em out! [Sammy looks like he's about to do that... but Vince stops him. He points at Jax, and then at Demolisher, and then at the top rope. Crowd realizing what he wants to happen--] OA: Abel's telling Jax to go to the top! He wants to see the top rope Bronco Buster! [Jax looks to the crowd, which thunders its approval. Abel is shouting at Jax now! Bullfrog backs off to the top rope, sits on the top turnbuckle, and raises himself up. Crowd is in a mini-frenzy now! Abel is holding Demolisher down to the mat! Sammy is stomping away at Overkill!] OA: If Jax nails this, the Machines are _done_! Jawaad looks like he's gonna hurl! [Jax looks to the crowd, gathers his energy and leaps-- __WHAT THE FRICK__?!?!?!] OA: Omigawd! Crazy Brave outta nowhere! He just sprinted across the ring, HOPPED OFF OF DEMOLISHER, and NAILED JAX WITH A JUMPING SIDEKICK TO THE FACE!!! CC: BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!! OA: JAX JUST FELL OFF THE TOP ROPE AND ONTO THE CONCRETE! THE BND HAVE BEEN ELIMINATED!!! CC: I'll be _damned_, looks like I2I is willing to sacrifice their friendship with the BND for a shot at the titles, Ambrose! OA: That they are, Cordell! Friendships can only take you so far in this business, but titles can take you farther! And now Brave and Abel throwing out Sammy! [A replay is shown of the awesome spot with Brave and Jax. Sammy goes over to check at is partner. He glowers right _through_ I2I, who show little remorse in their actions. I2I then resume beating on the Machines...] CC: Hahaha, that was funny. Hope they throw out that green haired punk next! Put him outta my misery. OA: That just might happen, Cordell. We're down to FOUR TEAMS: THE KILLING MACHINES, I2I, INFINITE JUSTICE, and uhh, ECHO DARE. Speaking of Dare... [Note that while BND and I2I were teaming up on the Machines, Washington and Revere were busying themselves methodically killing Echo across the ring.] CC: Yeah! Do it! Do it for the greater good! [Johnny positions Echo in the middle of the ring, back on the mat. Dixie runs off the ropes. With precision timing, Johnny slingshots Echo towards Dixie, who meets the helpless victim with a flying forearm smash to the head. Thunderous impact!] OA: __STARS AND BARS__! STARS AND BARS ON ECHO DARE!!! WE MIGHT GET OUR SECOND ELIMINATION WITHIN A MATTER OF MINUTES! [Revere grabs Echo AND TOSSES HIM OUT OF THE RING!!!] CC: Bye bye Echo! Call us when you get home! [Revere and Washington, smiling cockily, turn their backs on Echo.] OA: WAITASEC-- ECHO ISN'T OUT YET! [The camera focuses on the side of the ring, where Echo is hanging on to the ropes! Crowd pop!] CC: Dammit~! Why won't this kid just quit?! OA: Echo has a lot of heart, Cordell! He isn't giving up so soon! [Echo does the old Shawn Michaels trick, flipping himself back into the ring using only his arms. But he's exhausted and still weary from the Stars and Bars, and just collapses onto the mat. Monkey and Arena go over to check up on the youngster.] OA: INFINITE JUSTICE JUST SNEAK ATTACKED INTENT TO INJURE!!! CC: Those are my boys! [Johnny grabs Brave, and sets him up on his back! OA: But weren't you just cheering for I2I a muinute ago? CC: Yeah but IJ's my boys, ya know? OA: I've heard. [Dixie off the ropes!] OA: STARS AND BARS AGAIN! HERE IT COMES! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> [GASP! SHOCK AND AWE!] CC: Holy sh...! OA: BRAVE GRABBED HIS BOARD FROM THE APRON AT THE LAST SECOND! HE COLLIDED MID-AIR WITH DIXIE BOARD FIRST! I THINK WASHINGTON MIGHT HAVE FRACTURED HIS FACE! ["HOLY SHIT!" chant-age!!!] CC: DIXIE CUPS EVERYWHERE! It's like a scene outta Terminator 3... only with dixie cups... ["I SLASH!!!" chant-age!!!] OA: Look at Revere! He thinks the Stars and Bars connected! He's smiling! Just as he turns around-- [WHAM!] OA: Face full of _clothesline_ fom Demolisher! The Machines are back with a vengeance! CC: Washington looks like he's out cold. He's bleeding, I think. Brave didn't come out of that collision any better either. He's out on the mat. Echo's still down in the corner. Overkill looks dazed, leaning on the turnbuckle. Yep. _Definitely_ "T-3" material in there. OA: Only Demolisher and Revere are standing. And Revere doesn't look like he's gonna be up any longer...! [Demolisher rocks Revere-- with some brutal combinations to the body and head. Revere does his best to fight back, but a brawler he _ain't_.] CC: Hey, look at Washington. Sumbitch is actally _getting up_! OA: That's probably due to the fact that he and Revere stay away from contact this entire match. Washington's still fresh. Or he was until he ate that skateboard from Crazy Brave. [POP!] OA: IRON CLAW! Demolisher has the Claw locked on Revere's head! [Overkill wrenches and wrenches!] OA: Low blow from Revere! CC: YEAH-- HUH?? OA: Demolisher didn't let go! [Revere in pure pain from the Claw!] CC: I knew it-- Demoisher doesn't have any balls! OA: Or maybe he's just tougher than texas leather, Cordell! What fortitude! [TAPPING! REVERE IS TAPPING!] CC: You can't tap out of this match though, can you? OA: I'm not sure... I don't think so, I'm not hearing any bells. [REVERE GRABS THE ROPES!] OA: Nope, that won't work either. CC: I think Revere's brain fluids are seeping out. Or it just might be Demolisher's semen. I hear he gets turned on by things like th-- OA: WHOA! Demoisher just lifted Revere and positioned him onto the top rope while still hooking the claw! That's SCARY, Cordell! [CROWD SENSING IT! REVERE'S IN THE "KILLING BLOW" POSITION!] OA: Demolisher walks over, slapping Overkill on the face, trying to wake him up. ["BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!"] OA: What the-- no! CC: Oh, _yes_! [INEVITABLE GREATER GOOD RUN-IN HEEL POP!] OA: What the hell is COOPER CONCRETE doing out here?! He's got a match of his OWN to be worrying about tonight! [Coop, smug as ever, walks down the ramp to thunderous booing from the Toronto fans! He looks around ringside, past Adrena and Monkey, until his eyes lock on... _Jawaad Mahmood_.] OA: Coop's stalking the manager of the Machines! CC: Probably payback for the match he and Shan-- Hightower had against the Machines a few months back. That was a draw I believe. What better way to get back at the embarrassment than by costing the Machines a shot at the gold? OA: Or maybe Nelson just told him to. CC: Hmmm. [Demolisher rolls out from under the bottom rope to the outside! He's stepping BETWEEN Coop and Jawaad!] CC: THE MACHINES HAVE BEEN ELIMINATED!!! OA: "You must go over the TOP rope to be eliminated." CC: Stop ruining my fun, bitch. OA: Dunce. [As Demolisher and Coop stand off, a dazerd Revere and Washington hang onto the rope, smiling arrogantly, egging Coop to attack Demolisher.] OA: Those two better [Suddenly a blur] move away from [moves like quicksilver] the ropes [with a _purpose_.] !!! [ELIMINATION POP!] CC: Aaaaaaaaaagh! OA: _ECHO_!!! ECHO JUST CROSS BODYBLOCKED INFINITE JUSTICE! ALL OF THEM TOPPLE OUT OF THE RING! ___INFINITE JUSTICE HAS BEEN ELIMINATED___! ECHO DARE HAS BEEN ELIMIN-- NO! ECHO LANDED ON THE APRON! HE ROLLS BACK IN! CC: WHA-A-T?! That kid has more breaks than a Toyota dealership! [Demolisher quickly rolls back in the ring as Coop begins berating Washington and Revere! The Greater Good members continue bickering while walking up the ramp!] CC: Naw! This can't be! OA: And then there were three... THE MACHINES, I2I, and the amazing ECHO DARE! He just might win this! CC: Err, you DO know that I was joking when I said that I was gonna quit if he won earlier, right? [FINISHER POP!] OA: _What the_?! In all the action, I2I somehow managed to position Overkill for their "WHO'S DAMANN?" move!!! CC: AKA, "Spike Piledriver." [Tension mounts as Echo and Demolisher bump into each other. This is the first time they've been in the ring since the cataclysmic BOUNTY MATCH at ICB.] CC: Beat EACH OTHER to death, I don't care anymore! OA: Hey-- Demolisher and Echo are SHAKING HANDS!!! CC: * hurl * OA: A show of mutual respect from Echo and the Machine. They'll need to cooperate, because Overkill almost died from that spike piledriver! It's Dare/Demolisher against Intent to Injure! [CROWD IS MUTHAFUCKING ~HOT~!!! Demolisher and Dare stare across the ring at their rivals.] OA: It's come down to this! [One.] [One second.] [And then--] CC: _SET IT OFF_!!!! [Echo and Brave run across the ring at each other! Echo with the dropkick! Brave with the spinning heel!] OA: BRAVE connected! Echo is down! [Brave heads to the top rope!] OA: Risky move! Doesn't he remember what happened to Jax earlier?! [Brave looks wildly to the crowd! He's calling for it! He jumps!] OA: NO MORE RESERVATION FROGPLAS-- __NO__ ECHO ROLLED OUT OF THE WAY!!! CC: Not bad... [Brave and Echo both get up groggily... Brave with the wild swing, Echo ducks--] CC: Ah! [Finisher POPPAGE!!!] OA: DOUBLEDARE! Double neckbreaker on Brave! CC: C'mon kid!!! OA: What did you say, Cordell? CC: Er, I mean... boooo!!! OA: Echo can't capitalize though! He's too tired! [Elsewhere... JVA ducks a Demolisher clothesline, and wraps himself around the big man with an octopus hold!] OA: Abel's shaking, trying to take Demoisher down to the mat! CC: Whoah! Demolisher isn't falling! OA: No, he's not! [Demolisher does a shrug motion, lifting Abel to the air, where he lands on Demolisher shoulder. In am impressive display, Demolisher picks him up for a press slam!] OA: PRESS SLAM TO THE OUTSIDE! ABEL'S OUT! CC: NO, HE AIN'T! [Abel grabs the ropes as he falls and slides back into the ring, through Demolishr's legs! AGILITY POP! Demolisher turns--] OA: BOOT NOSE! Jumping scissorkick to the face on Demolisher! [Demolisher teeters dangerously on the ropes!] OA: _ANOTHER_ BOOT NOSE!!! [Not enough to throw him out!] OA: JVA winds back fior a THIRD BOOT N-- [POP!] OA: Caught him! CAUGHT HIM! Demolisher caught Abel mid flight! [HOLY SHIT.] CC: Holy sheeeet! OA: Holy sh-- crap! [DEMOLISHER RUNS ACROSS THE RING AND JUST TOSSES VINCE OUT TO THE OUTSIDE-- -- INTO THE CROWD!] OA: What ___POWAH___! CC: I can't believe it! "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" [Replay immediately airs. Demolisher got the running start and kinda just threw Vince to the outside. Vince actually hit the guardrail, but bounced off badly into the crowd. The refs on the outside pull the unconscious Brave to the outside. Overkill is starting to move.] CC: UNBELIEVABLE. I NEVER IMAGINED IT WOULD END UP LIKE _THIS_! IT'S ICB ALL OVER AGAIN! OA: WE'RE DOWN TO TWO! ECHO DARE, IMPROBABLE AS IT IS, HAS MANAGED TO SURVIVE TO THE VERY END! BUT-- HE'S UP AGAINST ARGUABLY THE BEST TAG TEAM IN IWF/WOW HISTORY!!! CC: WHY ARE WE SHOUTING?! OA: WE'RE EXCITED!!! [And so are the fans!] OA: Listen to this ovation! [An "E-CHO!" chant starts up!] OA: The underdog, Echo Dare, looks like he's got the mandate of the fans in the arena! CC: Seriously, what happens if he DOES win? Does he challenge for the titles alone? Get a new partner? What? OA: We'll have to wait and see. [All three men, groggy, battered and bruised, watch each other wearily. Dare stands in the middle of the ring, with a Killing Machine flanking him on either side.] OA: Echo with a flurry of punches to Demolisher! Little effect! Demolisher with a knee to the gut! Another knee to the face! Echo whirls around! CC: Overkill with a clothesline! [Echo ducks!] OA: Overkill just took his own partner's head off!!! CC: DOUBLE DARE!!! DOUBLE DARE ON OVERKILL!!! [Overkill ricochets off the move and hits the ropes. He leans on them for support! Echo looks at the crowd, begging for energy!] CC: Overkill is VULNERABLE! (Waitasec) [Demolisher is still down!] (Something is coming) OA: Echo can eliminate the Machines with one clothesline RIGHT NOW! C'mon KID!!! (Something is at ringside) [Echo runs towards the ropes and _FALLS._] OA: WHAT THE HELLLLLLLLLL?!?! CC: OMIGOSH!!! [~BURNING HEEL HEEAT~!!!] OA: __CARDIAC__! DAMN HIM! DAMN HIMMMM!!! [Replay: As Echo hit the ropes, Cardiac pulls on it, and Echo goes flying out of the ring!] DING! DING! DING! FRANCINE: The winners of the match, and NEW number one contenders to the tag team championship ... ["Enter Sandman" by Metallica plays.] T H E K I L L I N G M A C H I N E S ! ! ! OA: That's not fair! CC: Not to take anything away from the Machines though... they DO deserve the win, in my opinion. Besides, I hate Echo. OA: Oh really? I think I heard you chanting along back there. CC: Shhhh! OA: Look Cardiac's not done yet! CC: What's he got in his hand? OA: It looks like... a book! The book that he's always scribbling on! [Camera focuses on it. It's a big, thick, bible like hardbound book.] CC: What's he gonna-- [WHAM! Cardiac just NAILED Echo with the book! BOO that traitor!!] -- never mind. [Cardiac slides into the ring.] OA: And Cardiac slams the book into Demolisher, sending him over the ropes! [Cardiac grabs the still-dazed Overkill. He open the thick book, sandwiches Overkill's face in it--] OA: FACEPLANT WITH THE BOOK!!! THAT MIGHT HAVE CAUSED PERMANENT DAMAGE TO OVERKILL'S _FACE_! [Cardiac grabs a mic. The fans are REALLY letting him hear it. His voice is gravel through his death's head mask.] CARDIAC: Meenya zahvoot Cardiac. Never forget it. [BOO!] I'll keep this brief. Unlike Dare, I am not wont to prance and dance about like some twisted whore. Why did I join the HOA? Why did I betray my "friend," Echo Dare? Shhh, the tale is bief. Half a year ago, a GOD among men was resurrected unto the I Slash. His name was _HADES_. Do you remember that moment? Father Hades returned to the IWF/WOW... and saw it wasn't good. He vowed to destroy the "I Slash," what it represented, what it had become. Over time, his mission was blurred by the media and eroded by capitalist will... the HOA was fractured, ignored, and now runs as a "union." What an utterly human concept. Hades' call fell on deaf ears... except for mine. I was listening. And since then, I have been waiting, hiding myself inconspicuosly in the tag division. Watching Echo make a fool of himself. Festering in shadow. Inscribing my observations into my Book of Sins. [Cardiac waves around the heavy book he slammed Echo and the Machines with.] Can't you see the signs? The Nelson's coming into power. The resurrection of the God of wrestling, Hades. The arrival of Temple, the darkest shadow. Hrrmh. My conclusion is this: the I-Slash, all of it... must die. Its time is at an _END_. [MASSIVE MASSIVE HEEL POP IN THE HIZZY!] In my motherland, there was little need for this infernal; circus that you call "American wrestling." My people are wise, and cannot be impressed with cheap pyrotechnics, blood shed, or petty gimmickry. In my country, wrestlers are revered for their _skill_ and _intelligence_, not for their "pretty boy looks" or their "charisma." I will bring that same purity here. Right hand of God. Engine of nihility. Sin-eater. I am all these things. [You can almost see him smile.] --Welcome to the new oblivion. [Cardiac begins to walk away, but as he passes by Echo's lifeless body...] CARDIAC: Oh, and for the fools who don't yet realize... "Echo Dare and Cardiac" is DEAD. Dozvedanya. [Adrena backs off, a look of sheer sadness on her face. Cardiac drops the mic and leaves to the sound of disdain from those gathered about. Metallica's "Until it Sleeps" plays forebodingly around the arena as he disappears.] OA: Well, that was... intense. CC: To say the least. [Well shit, we're in the back...] [Endless stretches of white concrete wall, random black doors here...there...Each one harboring a different title, a different name. Suits walk across the picture, followed by a group of women, probably wives, a vender, and finally a referee crosses and disappears behind a door. The scene backstage begins to focus on a single door, the camera readjusts and carefully approaches.] [JUSTIN ARCOLA] [MEGA-FUCKSUMBODY PRETTY POP!!!] [The crowd erupts, although barely audible in the backstage area. The name everyone reads is now centered in the picture. But not for long.] [THWWWAP!] [CRRRASSSSH!] [A leg comes flying into the picture booting the door open, sending it ricocheting off the wall. Before anyone can get any sense out of the situation.... OA: TREVOR STORM! TREVOR STORM JUST KICKED JU- [Owen Ambrose quickly silences himself as Trevor Storm barrels through the door and into Arcola's dressing room.] OA: WAS THAT A BASEBALL BAT!?! DID TREVOR STORM HAVE A BASEBALL BAT!?! CC: I certainly hope so. OA: You're SICK! [When the cameraman finally makes his way into the locker room both Storm and Arcola are....] OA: THEY'RE EYE TO EYE! [Trevor Storm, letting a Louisville Slugger drape down the side of his leg stares Justin Arcola...who's also letting a Louisville Slugger drape down the side of his leg...in the eyes.] TREVOR STORM: .....BOO! OA: Boo? [Storm cracks a smile and lets his head tilt to the left.] TREVOR STORM: I had a little tension built up, thought I should let some of it out. [laughing] What better way then slammin' through your door with _ballbat_ in hand? If anything - JUSTIN ARCOLA: Thought about jacking off? Or drinking until you puke? Or doing anything else that doesn't involve breaking down my door? TREVOR STORM: Oh, I see...You're _preparing_ for the match tonight. [Storm twinkles his fingers at Arcola.] Don't have time for your tag partner tonight. JUSTIN ARCOLA: Listen..._partner_...let me tell you something about this match ton- [BAAAAANG!] [As soon as Arcola begins to speak Storm throws his fist into the locker adjacent to Arcola's head, bending the metal around his bare knuckles.] TREVOR STORM: ......no. Let me tell _you_ something, Justin. For more then a month now I've been keeping you're ass alive. Whenever you were curled up in the fetal position getting your guts kicked in by who-the-f***-ever...I showed up. Not your friends. When it was your ass on the line, I was there swinging the ballbat. But for too long I've propped my legs up and kept my mouth shut everytime _EVERY!_...._TIME!_...Nelson told you to _help_ me win. Do you honestly _THINK!_, Justin that I'm expecting you to aid me at all, do you think I _WANT_ you to help me win? I'm glad you think you're that f***in' important...but... [Storm pulls his fist away from the locker, and pushes a few black locks from his face.] TREVOR STORM: ....The fun's over, _f***ot._ [Storm pauses letting the word sink into Arcola's skin. Arcola's eyes widen and begin to burn holes through Storm, but he says nothing.] TREVOR STORM: I don't like you Arcola, as a matter of fact...I f***in' loath you. Dealing with you as a partner has been difficult, to say the absolute least. You have your head so far up your own ass it's pathetic....LOOK AT THE GODDAMN RANKINGS SHEET! [Uh oh. Storm's freaking out...] TREVOR STORM: WHO'S THE NUMBER ONE F***IN' CONTENDER!?! I AM! NOT BECAUSE I'VE DODGED BULLETS...I AM THE MOTHER FU*KIN' _BULLET_, JUSTIN ARCOLA!!!..... [pause.] TREVOR STORM: It woulda suited me just fine if you had _REALLY_ had AIDS. Because now I'm stuck dealing with your bullshit. And I'm just letting you know...after tonight Justin...if I take the title, if you take the title. Everything that coulda hinted towards me liking you...it all goes up in smoke... [A final pause.] TREVOR STORM: After one of us walks away with the title it's goddamn war between you and I. Unlike anything you've ever been apart of. [Storm throws his body to the left and turns to walk away....] OA: JUSTIN ARCOLA JUST SPUN TREVOR STORM AROUND! [Arcola slowly takes a step closer, Storm and Arcola getting face to face.] CC: You don't think Arcola will kiss 'em do ya, Owen? OA: Give me a break, Cordell. [Arcola gets a big, sinister smile on his face.] JUSTIN ARCOLA: You say that like it's a _bad_ thing... [A beat, and then Storm smiles in kind.] TREVOR STORM: Heh heh... [He begins to knowingly laugh. Arcola nods his head. Storm casually bends down to pick up the bat, twirls it in his hands and walks off whistling like a Bizzaro World version of Andy Griffith. The camera pans back to Arcola, who's simply shaking his head.] OA: Oh man...I cannot _wait_ to see what these two are gonna do out there! I'm also anxious to see the very first IWF/WOW Spotlight Champion crowned! It began with eight, but now we've pruned it down to TWO of the hungriest. Cooper Concrete and "Tigerheart" Rally Jackson! [Fade into a shot of the brackets as they began, slowly names begin to vanish.] V/O: Eight... of the best.... "Echoing" -- toughest... most talented... V/O: Eight of the best men in this business... [Shots of Trace Michaels, "The Natural" Travis Cade, Cooper Concrete, Chad Allen, Sabbath, Randall Sykes, "Tigerheart" Rally Jackson, Hightower.] V/O: The spotlight title* [A picture of the new title is shown.] V/O: Tonight* We answer that question* [A shot of Rally Jackson meets a shot of Cooper Concrete.] V/O: Tonight.. we crown.. A CHAMPION!!! [Back to the announcers.] OA: The spotlight title being introduced to the I-Slash tonight, eight men entered this tournament, two remain, two remain with on thing on mind, to become the first Spotlight Champion. Rally Jackson, pulled the upset over Trace Michaels AND Sabbath to get here* CC: He need a handful of tights twice Owen, twice* Cooper's strategy should be to come to the ring naked to make sure Rally's got nothing to hold on too. OA: I highly doubt he'll be doing that, on the other side of the ring stands "The man with the plan" a member of Brian Nelson's sleeze flock, "The Greater Good." Cooper Concrete got here, well* too be honest, it's too confusing how he got here, a little nudge from Nelson, with Cade and Hightower, with the war between Sabbath and Allen, Coop finds himself in this match, sounds he got a little bit of a push and lady luck isn't far behind. CC: Luck? Are you kidding me Owen? A former I-slash champion, he held that title before Arcola, before McMannis, before Rock, before Kiljoy* he's done it all here, don't you think it fits well if he can put one more trophy on his mantle? o-----------------< FINALS >--------------------o o------< IWF/WOW SPOTLIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP >-------o o-----------------------------------------------o Cooper Concrete vs. "Tigerheart" Rally Jackson o-----------------------------------------------o o-----------------------------------------------o FRANCINE: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! It is for the IWF/WOW SPOTLIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!!! [NEW ERA POP!!!!] FRANCINE: Introducing first ... ["Another One Bites The Dust " by QUEEN is played over the PA system and the crowd cheers wildly!] FRANCINE: ... standing 6 foot 6 inches and weighing 285 lbs. ... from Boston, Massachusetts ... here is "The Man With The Plan" ... C O O P E R C O N C R E T E ! ! ! [The I-Sore comes to life and flashes of numbers fill the screen...1......2......3.......B......GREATER GOOD....A closeup of Coop's face is seen, a determined look on his face, plus a sneer...Highlights of Cooper versus Nate McMannis, Johnny "Cool" Coles, Justin Arcola, Eric Travers, Vile Vince Viper, Chad Allen, Maverick, and Razor Ron Jeremy fill the screen. Cooper walks through the curtains - he has a barbed wire baseball bat in hand. He stands at the top of the ramp and raises his bat and flashes the 3:B signal high in the air. Three explosions of Pyrotechnics fill the air as they simultaneously bang with the bass beat of the entrance.] BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! #ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST# [The Man With The Plan wears blue-tinted shades, a black "GREATER GOOD" T-shirt, bluejeans, workboots, and workgloves. Cooper walks down the ramp ignoring the fans who are cheering and booing the I-Slash legend. Cooper's eyes remain fixed on the ring. Cooper steps up the steel steps and enters the ring, where spinning lights of "3:B" circle the ring and arena. The music dies down and Cooper removes his shades and places his bat in a corner, and is ready for combat.] OA: The Man With the Plan is all business tonight, Crane. CC: I haven't seen the fire in his eyes like this ever. Rally Jackson is gonnahave a real tough time to capture the Spotlight. Coop is on his game lately, andthe vet is set! OA: He may be Greater Good - but the fans know that this guy doesn't know the word - DIE. He's proven over and over - you can't keep a good man down. CC: A Greater Good man! Nelson knew he was the real deal - and apparently so did Sykes. He flew the coop, before Coop could get a shot at him. Randall Sykes is a coward! OA: Damn, I'd be afraid of Concrete too - especially after stealing his longtime love - but tonight, Coop gets to take out his agressions on the TigerHeart - with the inaugural Spotlight Title - up for grabs! CC: Ambrose - shush! Have some respect, the Man is about to speak... [Cooper has taken the microphone from Francine.] COOPER CONCRETE: Ladies and gentlemen - at this time I would like to invite the First Lady of the I-Slash to the ring - please welcome - KELLY JAMES! [SABOTAGE - by Beastie Boys blare from the PA. Crowd cheers loudly - and out from the curtains emerges the georgeous buxom blonde, KELLY JAMES, she's wearing her hair tied back, a slinky, revealing red top, with black leather pants, and black high heel shoes. The crowd is abuzz as she makes her way to ringside.] OA: This is supposed to be Kelly's swan song for one year, Cordell - once Randall Sykes went AWOL - her tenure has been put on hiatus. CC: If ya keep yer mouth shut, maybe we can get an explanation - JEEZ! [Kelly's now in the ring with Coop - the hoots and hollers still fill the arena, Kelly with a definite look of concern on her face.] COOP: Kelly, I know that tonight I was supposed to face Randall Sykes, and you were gonna lay your next year's contract on the line for HIM. [CROWD BOOS!!!!] COOP: You were so confident - so sure of yourself - and that little punk walked out on you. [BOOS!!!!] COOP: But the way I see it, Kelly -that just may have been a blessing in disguise for YOU. [Kelly looks puzzled.] COOP: You know I would have taken him out, match or no match, bell-ringing or not - he was a deadman. And that would have crushed me because I would have lost you for good. BUT, now that the Sykes vs. Coop match isn't happening - I'm here to tell you that the contract you signed for tonight - is Null and Void - and you will NOT be losing your job for one year! [Crowd cheers!!!! Kelly with a look of relief.] COOP: Now before you go - there is a matter of you and me. (Crowd buzzing.) COOP: You and I were together for a very long time Kelly. And to see you with Randall really hurt me inside. But I understand I haven't been a saint, either...I know you did it to get back at me for hurting you. And we've been at each other's throats ever since the Presidential campaigning began - there's been alot of things I said - alot of things you said - that we both can't take back. [Kelly nods in agreement.] COOP: So where do we go from here? [Kelly shrugs her shoulders.] COOP: If you didn't notice - I'm about to fight for the IWF/WOW SPOTLIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP against Tigerheart Rally Jackson - if that is indeed the man waiting in the back... [Crowd is buzzing in anticipation.] COOP: Kelly, I am part of a good team - a GREATER GOOD team. [Crowd BOOS!!!] COOP: Guys, I can trust - guys, who can trust me - I haven't felt that since the POWER ALLIANCE days. [Crowd POPS for the Historical stable.] COOP: Kelly, I can forgive the fact that you were oh-so-stupid to side with Sykes in the first place...but I can't forgive the fact that you turned your back on me - right when I need you the most. [Crowd Boos a bit.] KELLY JAMES: And that goes the same for me, Cooper. If there's anyway I can make it up to you... COOP: I know you're the best manager the I-Slash has to offer, so I'll give you the chance to prove to me - prove to US...we can take it to the next level, once again, together. [Crowd buzzes, lots of cheers and boos.] COOP: So, Kelly, I want you to be in MY corner - RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW. [Some fans are saying NO, Some fans are Cheering] OA: This is amazing, Cordell - Coop and Kelly together again? CC: Coop proved he doesn't need her - he got here without her - but with her in his corner - damn, this guy can do anything. COOP: So Kelly, what do you say? KELLY JAMES: I know Rally Jackson's been licking his lips all week, and he is hungry to get his first taste of gold. But he is an ignorant little piss-ant, who needs to be taught a lesson in etiquette. I'd be honored to be by your side, Cooper - I've always been proud of you - and I know you still got it. Count me in....(Crowd mixed reaction!!) [Cooper and Kelly shake hands.] KELLY JAMES: It's time to make Tigerheart Broken. And RALLY - IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT.... CROWD: "READ BETWEEN THE LINES!!!!!" [Cooper and Kelly flash the 3:B signal, and the crowd does the same.] COOP: It's settled - Francine, if you would be so kind to get that jackass out here, so we can do this... OA: The dynamic duo are back!!! Cooper Concrete and Kelly James are side-by-side once again! I surely wouldn't want to be in Jackson's shoes - Kelly's brought Coop to many titles in this fed. The advantage definitely goes to Concrete now. CC: Can Coop trust her though? - She turned her back on him before - I smell set-up. OA: You smell alright. CC: Hey! FRANCINE: His opponent ... ["Block Rockin Beats" by the Chemical Brothers begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd boos.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Rio de Janiero, Brazil standing 6 feet 2 inches and weighing 241 pounds, here is ... "T I G E R H E A R T" R A L L Y J A C K S O N ! ! ! [Rally Jackson walks down the aisle. Jackson is wearing a green capoeira gui with yellow trim and he has his dreadlocks tied up behind him. He is a dark skinned Brazilian with various piercings. He has two in his ear, one in the eyebrow, and one in the nose. He takes the top off and throws it into the crowd laughing. He has a small tiger tattoo behind his left shoulder blade and you can see small scars on the small of his back. He continues on down the ramp with a wide grin on his face as a couple of green and yellow fireworks go off in the distance.] [He ignores the crowd jeering him and goes straight into the ring. He lowers his shoulder into his opponent then goes right to his corner. His theme music fades.] [The referee hoisting that brand new Spotlight title in the air, the crowd claps in anticipation as he shows the title to both participants.] OA: SET IT OFF! A new era here in the I-Slash as the spotlight title will be decided here tonight!! CC: The Greater Good! The greater Good Owen! [Cooper Concrete lifts his hand in the air, he the pulls out a headband from his pocket. He ties it around his head and then begins waving his arms, slicing the air with his hands.] OA: Cooper Concrete mocking Jackson's capoeria's background, total disrespect for the man. [Cooper brings his hands together and bows in a mockery of a capoeria bow-but guess what??] OA: OH!!! JACKSON NOT TAKING A LIKING TO COOP'S MOCKERY AS HE NEARLY KICKED OFF HIS HEAD!! CC: The bell hasn't even sounded yet! OA: Jackson takes his martial arts background extremely seriously, most martial artists do, Coop is asking for trouble*. DING! DING! OA: This one has begun! [Coop grabs his head, this match clearly has not started the way he would like. Jackson lays a thunderous kick into the midsection and a final one into the head that DROPS Cooper face first on the mat.] CC: Can Jackson give Coop a minute here!? OA: It's for the Spotlight title* how could he give him a minute? Jackson has ONE goal, one purpose Cordell. That purpose is to be the first I-Slash Spotlight champion! [Jackson picks Cooper off the mat and whips him to the ropes, Cooper returns Jackson leaps up and.. caught* and brought down with a vicious spinebuster. Cooper making chances from Jackson's early mistake.] OA: Cooper driving Rally down with a spinebuster, he almost but him through the canvas with that one! CC: He's focused tonight Owen, he's focused on the task at hand. [Cooper gets up only to drop his knee directly across Rally's ankle, Cooper gets back up and drops another knee on the ankle and then dropping an elbow and begins to yank at the ankle cause Rally to swrim around.] CC: He's going to break the ankle Owen, Rally can't kick him if he can't move his ankle, he can't kick if he can't control his foot! OA: Coop's strategy is sound, go after the ankle, ground Rally and beat him down to the mat, that's what he's doing! [Coop gets up an extends the leg, he wraps it around going for the figure four-but, Rally kicks Coop in the behind and sends him to the ropes. Coop returns only to see Rally do a back roll, spring to his feet and.. OA: JUMPING SIDE KICK! RIGHT INTO THE HEAD OF COOP! WHAT AGILITY BY "TIGERHEART"!!! [Coop falls, Rally quickly turns Coop over on to his stomach. Rally locks his arm over his head pulling back in a dragon sleeper/cobra clutch position.] OA: Rally's locked on the DRAGON CLUTCH*. THE DRAGON CLUTCH ON COOP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING* BIG MEN JUST AREN'T SUPPOSE TO BEND THAT WAY!! DEAR GOD! [Rally continues to pull as Coop inches towards the ropes. Rally's intensity can be read directly off his face as he continues to pull back on Coop's neck. Kelly James hops up on the apron and begins causing a commotion.] OA: Get here down!! Kelly James jumping on the apron here for no apparent reason. CC: Her man is getting choked out, that's not reason enough for you Owen? [Kelly James hops up and down as Jackson releases the hold and walks over to James with a menacing look. Kelly continues to jump and scream as Rally grabs her by the wrist..] OA: She was going to __SLAP__ Jackson, but he caught her! CC: These martial artists are all about respect* is he going to hit a woman?!? OA: It's self-defense! CC: Oh, listen to you Owen!! [HUGE POP!] [What caused the first pop of the match?? Rally pulled Kelly James into the ring flinging her over the top rope. James is scared, she backs into a corner as Rally poses, setting up for a devastating kick.] CC: Don't do it Rally. Don't do i-- OH! [A monsterous clothesline from Cooper Concrete from the behind to the back of Jackson's head sends Rally crashing to the mat.] CC: That's a real man, he's protecting his woman! OA: He's taking advantage of a situation* and now.. THE ANKLELOCK!! Coop has the anklelock on the left ankle of Rally Jackson, people call him the man with the plan, and that's what he has tonight a plan to become the __FIRST__ Spotlight champion. [Coop continues to pull on the ankle, twisting as Kelly James scurries out of the ring, the ref turns and asks Rally if he quits, Rally nods no as Coop begins wrenching in the hold.] OA: Cooper Concrete has that anklelock and he's not letting go, this one could be over in a hurry.. [Rally begins inching towards the ropes, using his elbows and strength he inches towards the ropes but Coop pulls him back into the middle of the ring.] CC: This is it! Coop's got this locked on in the middle of the ring, no where to go, no where to go! Call it quits Rally, that title doesn't mean that much anyway! OA: Doesn't mean anything?? The first Spotlight Champion! It's not only an honor, but it could sky rocket his career here in the I-Slash! CC: Remember the hardcore title, how long did __THAT__ last? [Coop continues to apply pressure, Rally begins to push himself up with his elbows. Coop tries to hold him down but Rally makes his way up to a foot, he then hops around as Coop hold on to his foot, Rally leaps for an enziguri, Coop ducks.] OA: HE LANDED ON HIS FOOT! RALLY WITH A DONKEY KICK, A DONKEY KICK INTO THE MIDSECTION OF COOPER CONCRETE!! Cat-like ability by the youngster, what agility by Rally Jackson! CC: That was unbelievable, Coop ducked the enziguri only to be nailed with a back kick right into the chest! Coop was sent down to the canvas! OA: Rally.. off the ropes. FRONT DROPKICK right into the face of COOP! THE HOOK OF THE LEG! .. COVERING.. ONE!!! TWO!!! CC: Shoulder up by Concrete! OA: Both of these men went through hell to get here, they're not just going to give in and hand this one over to each other. Both men are fighting flawless matches, they're reversing, they both have each other very well scouted, it's going to be the first big mistake that's going to allow someone to come out of this with the title. [Jackson gets to his feet as does Cooper. They both begin to exchange punches. Coop rakes the eyes of Jackson making Jackson stumble back* Cooper runs with a clothesline but Jackson slides between Cooper's legs. Cooper turns around only to have Rally hit a legsweep on Cooper. Cooper's head smashes hard into the mat.] OA: It's Cooper's experience and power versus Jackson's agility and martial art background. Jackson as quick as a cat as he slide through the legs and just as quick caught Coop with a legsweep and now he's heading up top! CC: Cooper to his feet! PLAYING POSSUM! OA: Rally caught on top! COOP IS GOING TO THROW HIM FROM THE TOP ROPE! [MAJOR POP!] OA: COUNTERED!!! FUJIWARA ARMBAR!! THE ARMBAR!! JACKSON LOCKED ON AN ARMBAR AND TOOK COOP TO THE GROUND WITH HIM!!! CC: NO! NO! OA: An absolute brilliant counter by Tigerheart!! Cooper's arm is extended and Jackson has his legs locked around the arm of Cooper.. He's got it locked on and has no intention of letting go. CC: He's going to break the arm Owen, he's going to cause nerve damage in that arm, there is no telling what Rally has learned fighting in those temples! Those karate people break bricks with there heads, they're crazy! [Cooper begins to stir as he reaches to the ropes but realizes he is way too far out, he gets to his knees, and tries to pull his arm away, but to no avail. Jackson has his legs wrapped around the arm and continues to pull. Coop has no other option but begins to stand lifting Jackson up* Cooper finally lifts up Jackson, using him leg power and other arm, spins around and hits a sitdown powerbomb as Jackson's neck smashes into the mat.] OA: Cooper countering the armbar* A TWISTING SITDOWN POWERBOMB.. Jackson's landing on the back of his neck, he's gotta be in pain, he's gotta be hurt! COOPER covering* ONE!!! TWO!!! OA: Rally kicking out! Rally kicking out!! CC: I thought he had him, I'm surprise his neck isn't broken and needing fusing. OA: The toughness of the competitors in the I-Slash is immeasurable, indescribable, these two men are willing to give it their all and then some for the fans in the I-Slash! CC: It's not the stupid fans, it's the glory... the fame, the spotlight title Owen! [Cooper lifting up Rally, whips Rally to the ropes -- reversed. COOPER HOLDS ON.. and Rally... CROSS BODY AND OVER THE TOP BOTH GO-- NO, WAIT!!! Skinning the cat, Rally pulls himself back over.] OA: Rally holding on to the ropes, he pulls himself back over! Cooper on the outside.. and Rally what on earth ishe doing* Rally taking a few steps back as Cooper begins to rise! [MAJOR POP!] OA: SHINNING WIZARD!!!!!! JACKSON TURNED A BASEBALL SLIDE INTO A SHINING WIZARD ON COOPER CONCRETE!! COOPER WENT CRASHING INTO THE OUTSIDE!! WHAT A MOVE!! WHAT A TURNING POINT TO THIS MATCH! CC: He stole that from Sabbath!! OA: You're right, Sabbath hit that move on Rally in the semi-finals of this tournament! [Rally grabs Coop and tosses him back in the ring, Rally then pulls himself on to the apron and hits a springboard legdrop!! The cover.] OA: SPRINGBOARD LEGDROP!! HOOKING THE LEG BACK!! REF COUNTING THIS HAS GOTTA BE OVER!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THRRRRR-- CC: The power!! What power, what power by Coop as he kicks out. OA: Rally back to his feet he's in that stance he was in earlier, he's going to kick off Cooper's head! Cooper on his knees.. on one foot THE KICK CAUGHT!!! COOPER CAUGHT HIS LEG!! HE'S GOT HIM HOOKED! COOP TAKING A STEP BACK.. WAIT.. DON'T DO IT COOP!!! [MAJOR OH MY POP~~!!!!] CC: SWEET GOD!! CAPTURE SUPLEX TO THE OUTSIDE! HE BROKE HIS NECK! RALLY JACKSON'S FOLDED UP LIKE AN ACCORDIAN AS HIS BODY, HIS NECK CRASHED DOWN ON THE OUTSIDE! OA: Cooper Concrete's strategy was simple, focus on the ankle* he did that early on.. but as the match progressed it's been the NECK of Rally that's been targetted the most, accidental or not, Cooper might have taken Rally out of this match! CC: Cooper's not in good condition himself! He's laying face first on the mat! OA: It took all he had, it took every ounce of strength he had left in his body. Even Kelly James has come over and is looking at Rally! Rally is out cold! The ref beginning to count here. CC: That was just ... I'm speechless. OA: This has been a back and forth contest, I don't know if Rally is going to get up from that, I really don't. The ref is counting-- wait a minute, Cooper Concrete is up, Cooper is heading to the outside! Cooper is lifting up Rally ... he rolls him into the ring. [Cooper indeed does just that. Cooper picks up Rally Jackson but Jackson's body slumps down. Cooper lifts him back up and sets up for the Cement Mixer.] OA: THIS HAS GOT TO BE IT!!!! COOPER WITH THE MIXE-- SMALL PACKAGE!!!! ONE!!! TWO!!! OA: RALLY HAS STOLEN THIS ONE!! THRE-- [The ref HOLDS UP TWO FINGERS] OA: Centimeters, mere centimeters away! My God! CC: Rally Jackson is impressing me here. [Cooper rolls back to his feet and lays a kick into the head of Rally Jackson, he then pick him up and hits a belly to belly suplex ... He covers him ... ] ONE!!! TWO!!! [Shoulder up! Cooper doesn't let that bother him, he yanks him back up and hits ANOTHER belly to belly suplex, lifts him back up and a THIRD! NO! RALLY hits a headbutt on COOPER* COOPER releases the hold and Jackson hits a sickening kick to the head of Cooper that drops him to a knee.] OA: BECKHAM WOULD BE PROUD AS JACKSON KICKS COOPER RIGHT IN THE TEMPLE!! CC: What a match! What a match! OA: Jackson going behind COOP! Jackson waistlock! GERMAN SUPLEX! No release.. no release, Rally's going for the trio here, he's going for The Great Gospel! Jackson back up! TIGER SUPLEX! TIGER SUPLEX!.. HE JUICED HIM WITH A TIGER SUPLEX! HE HASN"T RELEASED THE HOLD! HOLDING ON! JACKSON GOING FOR THE THIRD PART OF THIS! DRAGON SUPL-- [Crowd moans.] CC: MULE KICK!!! HA-HA! COOPER NAILED HIM RIGHT IN THE NUTS! OA: WAIT A MINUTE! COOPER, NOT LIKE THIS.. OH MAN!!! HE HIT IT!! HE HIT IT!!! THE CEMENT MIXER! HE HIT THE CEMENT MIXER AND RALLY IS OUT.. HE IS OUT!!! [Cooper turns Rally over and locks on the 3:B. Rally screams in pain, Coop has it locked on.] OA: This has got to be it!! He's got that 3:B locked on! There is no reversing this.. the only choice he has is to submit, hand over the title, it's not worth it! [Cooper wrenches into the move, arching the back applying pressure on the ankle and the neck.] OA: The game plan was brilliant, work on the ankle, work on the neck, and lock on the 3:B, that's what he has done, that's what's about to win him the SPOTLIGHT TITLE! CC: Rally inching his way... inching his way! OA: OH COOP PULLED HIM BACK TO THE MIDDLE!! It's a matter of time now, it's just a matter of time! [Rally continues to struggle his way to the ropes, reaching as Coop tries to pull back ... FINALLY ... FINALLY.. Rally grabs the ropes, Coop refuses to let go as the ref counts him to four.] [AMAZING MATCH, WORKRATE POP!] OA: Give it to BOTH OF THESE TWO.. Rally Jackson inched his way, both of these competitors, giving it there all, this is what the SPOTLIGHT TITLE WILL BE ALL ABOUT! CC: Either man could take this title! [Cooper releases the hold and grabs Rally off the mat and lifts him to the top rope. Cooper signals for the super cement mixer. He climbs up to the second rope.] OA: This is it! I don't think anyone's ever kicked out of the super cement mixer, that inverted swinging neckbreaker from that second rope! [Cooper holds his hand up in the air and points to Kelly James, he goes to grab Rally's hand but is kneed in the face!] OA: RALLY IS ALIVE! He's standing on that top rope! WAISTLOCK ... DON'T TELL ME! DON'T TELL ME! HE'S HOISTING UP THE SIX FOOT SIX FORMER WORLD CHAMPION!! WHAT STRENGTH!! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <><> <> <> <> <> <> <> <><> <> <> <> <> <><> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <><> <> <> <> <> <> <> <><> <> <> <> <> <> OA: THE RIO DEAL '02!!! THE RIO DEAL.. THAT TOP ROPE PILEDRIVER TO THE SIX FOOT SIX COOPER CONCRETE! REVERSING THAT SUPER CEMENT MIXER! BOTH MEN ARE DOWN!! THIS IS WHAT THE SPOTLIGHT TITLE IS ALL ABOUT!! BOTH MEN HAVE GIVEN 110 %!! CC: I can't believe what these two men have done tonight, it's been a memorable match saying the least. OA: RALLY JACKSON IS CRAWLING! CRAWLING TOWARDS COOPER!! HE DRAPES HIMSELF ON TOP!! CAN THIS BE IT!?!? ONE!!!! TWO!!!! [Do we have a new champion???] [Can "Tigerheart" do it???] [YOU GOING TO KICK OUT COOP!?] THREE!!! DING! DING! DING! OA: RALLY JACKSON! RALLY JACKSON!! HE'S DONE IT!!! JACKSON IS THE FIRST EVER SPOTLIGHT CHAMPION!! MY GOD!! WHAT A MATCH! [The referee grabs the title and walks over to an exhausted Rally Jackson. He lifts his hand and hands Rally the title. Jackson pulls the title into this chest as he struggles to make it to his feet.] OA: Cooper and Rally brought it too each other, they pushed each other to the limits.. it could have gone either way, but one move, ___ONE___ MOVE!! That's all it was. FRANCINE: Here is your winner ... And the FIRST IWF/WOW SPOTLIGHT CHAMPION ... ["Block Rockin' Beats" plays.] "T I G E R H E A R T" R A L L Y J A C K S O N ! ! ! OA: Wait a minute. Look coming down the aisle ... is that ... CC: She's going to slap him! OA: That's Lisa Nelson! Lisa Nelson is coming down that aisle and Rally has spotted her! [Lisa walks down the aisle, up the stairs and through the ropes. She smiles and hugs Rally he holds the title in the air. Rally hoists the title over his head, he walks over holds the ropes for Lisa, she walks through and he jumps over the ropes. The walk out together as Rally hoists the title in the air as Lisa cuddles with Rally. Kelly James steps into the ring and checks on Coop. As Coop rises the crowd continues to applaud.] OA: Like him or not, Cooper Concrete showed tonight why he's the longest running I-Slash Veteran!! CC: The crowd showing their appreciation. [Camera then shows Rally and Lisa walking in the back, Rally breathing hard as Lisa smiles, they stop and we see Trace Michaels.] TM: Hey lisa. [Trace smirks.] [Lisa and Rally walk right by him and vanishes down the hall. Trace looks down in disappointment.] OA: She snubbed Michaels! What gold digger! [Somewhere else in the backstage vicinity we see Mack Enssaserol sitting on a crate in the lockeroom thumbing through the newest edition of Slash Journalism. Blantant plug for Butch!!!!] MACK: What a crock of crap this is. I'm only mentioned 37 times in this thing. That jerk Spector is on the freaking cover!!! Where's my props?!?!? [Mack smiles a devilishly evil smile.] Oh right. I forgot. They're coming. After all I'm the man that KILLED STEVE SPECTOR'S CAREER!! WHAAAAHHAHAHAHAHAH!! Well maybe not that. I at least gave him the shock of his life. [At that moment a image flies on camera grabbing Mack by the throat and pinning him up against the lockers.] MACK: ERRRKKK! BOSS?!? [Sure enough the nameless blur that is standing in front of the Shocker belongs to the God of Wrestling.] HADES: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!? I just left the freaking medics office, and Spector is in pretty bad shape. They're not letting him wrestle tonight. He's not getting frickin' cleared to wrestle! [Hades squeezes harder Mack's neck as his nostrills flare.] HADES: Did.......you......hear...me? I said: MY PARTNER FOR TONIGHT IS NOT WRESTLING!! AND IT'S YOUR FAULT, YOU GIGANTIC A**HOLE!! MACK: Er.............boss......you're kinda choking me here. #352!! HADES: YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT I'M CHOKING YOU! I HAVE NO PARTNER TONIGHT!! YOU SCREWED ME OVER MACK! YOU SINGLE-HANDEDLY F**KED UP ALL MY PLANS! I should f**king kill you right here! [Hades's hand clenches tighter.] MACK: Ack....Hades....It's all good! I can be your partner. We can call ourselves "Steel City's Finest!" #352!! [Hades's hand releases slightly.] HADES: You?!? Why in Hades name should I reward you for your stupidity? Why did you fake an injury and not tell me? MACK: Well, I thought I really was injured for a while. Turns out I just woke up with a stiff neck, and that money-grubbing Dr. Malpractice told me I needed all this surgery. HADES: Wait...you go to a doctor named Dr. Malpractice?? MACK: Yeah, why? HADES: You truly are a walking labotomy, aren't you? [Mack gives an innocent smile.] MACK: I don't know what that means, but yeah...#352! It turns out that Dr. Malpractice was a little shady. The FBI arrested him a few days ago, so I went to get a second opinion and my new doctor says I just slept on it wrong. That damn Dr. Malpractice! I should have gotten a clue when he made me pay in cash and said he was out of receipts. And then he asked me if I could write _him_ a perscription! Is that strange? [Hades shakes his head in disbelief as he now completely releases his deathgrip.] MACK: And then one time I forgot my wallet, but he said he'd write me a perscription as long as I hummed the Silver Spoons theme. I figured he was just a fan of bad 80's television, but now that I think of it, that was sorta strange. And then he... HADES (interrupting): Enough! I got the picture. Geez, sometimes I don't know how you function in the world on your own. [Hades gives a deep sigh.] HADES: Why did you attack Steve Spector?! MACK: Because............ (muffled) I hate him. HADES: YOU HATE HIM!?! THAT'S IT?! MACK: That and..... Steve Spector is my worst enemy. Everything I do, he does it better. I win the EWA strap, and get one rematch. He never win it and gets like a million shots at it. That's not fair! HADES: Life's not fair. Ask Sammy Sosa. MACK: So I figured I'd prey on his (snicker) respect for his fellow wrestler. I knew if he thought that he had ended my career, It would make it easier to pull one over on ole' Steve. What a maroon. SWERVA-RIFFIC!! HADES: PULL ONE OVER?! You damn near stopped his heart with that cattle prod! I've done some low things but...... MACK: Look. You need me tonight. I'm the only cat in this locker room that you can 100% trust and will blindly follow you into any situation. HADES: I don't know, Mack. You really screwed things up tonight for this card. But then again, this will throw Super Cool off their game. MACK: #352!! HADES: Why do you keep saying that? MACK: What? #352? HADES: YEAH #352?! MACK: Dunno. You made it up! I wuz reading the HoA profile in the new Slash Journalism and you kept saying it after every sentence. HADES: (grabbing the magazine out of Mack's hand) Lemme see that! [Hades reads silently as Mack rubs his throat.] [WRITER'S NOTE:If you haven't read the article yet go ahead right now, While you do that I'll amuse myself with this barely legal internet porn. Oh yeah!] HADES: GODDAMN IT!!! Stupid Microsoft Word!! Someone get me Bill Gates! Why's this always happen!? This is somehow Brian Nelson's fault! He's got Gates in his pocket! #352?! MACK: I thought it was your new catchphrase. See I even had T-shirt's made up. [Mack reaches into a box and pulls out a black T-shirt that readson the the front : HADES :#352 "I JUST CONFUSED YOU!!" . He turns it around to show the back that reads:"STEEL CITY'S FINEST".] HADES: MACK YOU MORON!! It was a typo that AOL.... MACK: It's going to be the biggest catchphrase in the entire world of wrestling. Bigger than Maverick's "Take your best shot." Bigger than RRJ's "Ron is God." [Mack bites his lip.] Dare I say it: Bigger than Arcola's: "Reach arounds are on the house." HADES: (rubbing the bridge of his nose) First the SARS thing and now this? Have I told you in the last minute how much I hate you? Because I still do. MACK: (giving a stupid goofy grin) Nope. Not in the last minute. HADES: Well I do, and that's why I can't believe I'm giving in, but I don't really have any other choice. [Mack's smile widens.] HADES: Fine...you can be my partner tonight against Super Cool. MACK: In the words of Tony the Tiger: "THAT"S GRRRRRRRRRRRRRREAT!!!!!" Say it with me boss.........#3... HADES: ENOUGH WITH THE CATCHPHRASES!! MACK: Can we keep at least keep the "STEEL CITY'S FINEST'" moniker? HADES: Are you serious?! Why do we need a name? What's wrong with just "HADES!!!.......andmackensassarol." MACK: Oh, c'mon! Steel City's Finest! See, it works. Cause we're from Pittsburgh...and we're the finest! HADES: Whatever, Mack. Just show up to the ring and help me win the titles. We can discuss this after the match. MACK: In my mind we already won. [Hades shakes his head as he walks out of the room, still holding the "Slash Journalism".] HADES: Damn Slash Journalism! #352? First I'm just one of the "also receiving votes" guys on the rankings and now _this_?!?! MACK:(turning toward the camera and a peace symbol) #352!!! OA: How could someone go from being such a vindictive, maniplative rodent to a clueless moron in such a short amount of time? Is Mack that bi-polar? CC: #352! OA: Don't you start that. [Standing in the ring are Francine and the ref, Geoff Cartwright. Francine is holding the microphone, and Cartwright is holding onto two kendo sticks.] o-----------------------------------------------o o-------------< KENDO STICK MATCH >-------------o o-----------------------------------------------o Chad Allen vs. Sabbath o-----------------------------------------------o o-----------------------------------------------o FRANCINE: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a KENDO STICK MATCH! [Pop!] OA: Well, Crane ... not only does Sabbath share the partial blame for Chad Allen losing the IWF/WOW Intercontinental Title, but he also cost him a shot at becoming the first spotlight champion. Allen returned the favor later that night by distracting Sabbath long enough to be, himself, ousted from the tournament. There's a lot of bad blood between these two. CC: And after this match, their bad blood's gonna be splattered all over the canvas. [A guitar screeching down the frets, the familiar opening to "A NEW LEVEL" by Pantera as the I-Sore lights up with the image of clown paint melting, as the fans give a mixed reaction.] # Now a new look in my eyes my spirit rise # # Forget the past # # Present tense works and lasts # # Got s**t on # # Pissed on # # Spit on # # Stepped on # # F**ked with # # Pointed at by lesser men # [As the guitar riff changes, the words "NEW LOOK, SAME PAIN" appear on the I-Sore as Chad Allen makes his way down the aisle, wearing a long black hooded robe with the same melting clown paint logo on the back.] # New life in place of old life # # Unscarred by trials # FRANCINE: Introducing first ... Hailng from Queens, New York ... weighing in at 265 pounds, here is... C H A D A L L E N ! ! ! [Chad slides into the ring and tosses his hands in the air just as the main chorus of the song is sung.] # A new level of confidence and power # [Chad then tosses his robe off and hands it to a ring attendant, then moves to a corner of the ring, awaiting the opening bell. The referee, Geoff Cartwright, hands him one of the canes.] OA: Well, Chad Allen's the first one in... and Cordell, this is gonna be a barn burner! CC: Look at the intensity in this man's face... there's _no_ love lost between he and Sabbath, make no mistake! # WE'RE TAKIN' OVER THIS TOWN! # FRANCINE: And his opponent ... [The arena lights dim to total darkness, save for an eerie green light eminating from behind the entranceway. After a moment, Pantera's "Cowboys From Hell" begins to blare over the PA. Needless to say, the fans let their disapproval be well known!] FRANCINCE: ... accompanied by his wife, Sayaka, hailing from Seattle, Washington ... standing 6 feet 6 inches and weighing in at 267 lbs ... # UNDER THE LIGHTS, WE STAND TALL, NOBODY TOUCHES US AT ALL, # # SHOWDOWN, SHOOTOUT, SPREAD FEAR, WITHIN, WITHOUT # # WE'RE GONNA TAKE WHAT'S OURS TO HAVE, SPREAD THE WORD THROUGHOUT THE LAND # # THEY SAY THE BAD GUYS, WEAR BLACK, WE'ER TAGGED AND CAN'T TURN BACK [As the "meat" of the song kicks in, two figures step out from behind the curtain, to a huge heel pop. One, a male, has his head bowed, hiding his face. We can see that he's wearing a long black trenchcoat, a black t-shirt, and black tights. His female companion, however, is wearing knee high leather boots over black jeans, with a black halter top to finish out the deal. # YOU SEE US COMIN' AS YOU ALTOGETHER RUN FOR COVER!!! # Both figures stand there, motionless, until the "Altogether RUN FOR COVER!" line, at which point the arena explodes in white light!] # WE'RE TAKIN' OVER THIS TOWN! # FRANCINE: ..."THE WALKING CONTRADICTION!"... [Following the fire works, the lights return to normal, where the two people are finally revealed (like it's some shock or something.)] # HERE WE COME, REACH FOR YOUR GUN, AND YOU BETTER LISTEN WELL MY FRIEND # # IT'S BEEN SLOW, DOWN BELOW, AIMED AT YOU, WE'RE THE COWBOYS FROM HELL # # DEED IS DONE AGAIN, WE'VE WON, AIN'T TALKIN' NO HIGH TALES FRIEND # # 'CAUSE HIGH NOON, YOUR DOOM, COMIN' FOR YOU, WE'RE THE COWBOYS FROM HELL # S A B B A T H ! ! ! [Sabby and Sayaka take a moment to breath in the spectacle. We can see that both's raven locks are tied back into ponytails; Sabbath's about 1/3 the way down his back and Sayaka's down to her derierre. The two begin their way to the ring, yelling at the masses at ringside, but mostly staying focused on the match at hand. At ring-side, Sabby removes his sunglasses and trenchcoat, revealing a sleeveless Sabbath "Seven Years of Justice And Counting" t-shirt (Only $19.95 at the gimmick table you cheapasses). As he slides into the ring, he begins stretching, awaiting the bell.] [Geoff Cartwright hands him his kendo stick, and as Chad Allen moves in, he is quick to push him back to await the bell.] CC: Owen, I'm not sure what to expect here... quite frankly, I don't think either of these two would mind killing each other off... but, I _do_ know that one thing that we both should expect is bloodshed. OA: I agree wholeheartedly, and it's frightening that you and I are on the same wavelength. CC: Welcome to my world, baby. DING! DING! OA: HERE WE GO! [The crowd pops big as the bell rings, and the two men begin circling each other. Chad Allen is the first to strike, leaning forward and swinging with his cane... "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" ... and he delivers a shot straight into the left leg of Sabbath! Sabby retorts! "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" He delivers a big shot to the back of the leg! Allen swings now... "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" ... and strikes in Sabbath's midsection! Sabbath swings back... "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" ... and nails Allen in the ribs! Both men now wind up and swing! "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" _HUGE_ POP!] OA: DEAR GOD! THESE TWO MEN JUST WENT WILD! [Both men fall to the canvas, after the final shot. The two men took turns swinging the canes at each other, hitting various positions, the final shot hitting in synchrony, both men nailing their adversary in the skull! The crowd begins a loud "I-SLASH!" chant.] CC: You don't think they knocked each other out already, do you?! OA: Cordell, these two guys have a lot more left in them! I can guarantee you that! [Sabbath is the first one to his feet, clutching onto his head, but clutching tighter to the kendo stick. On the opposite end of the ring, Chad Allen has begun his ascent to his feet, using the ropes to pull himself up. Sabbath charges from behind... "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" ... and delivers a brutal shot right into the spinal column! Allen flies over the top rope and onto the cold cement below him. The crowd boos this maneuver, but also manage to cheer at the brutality of it all.] OA: Sabbath used his distinct height advantage to his... well, advantage there! He just swung downwards and tattooed Chad Allen! CC: I think he was looking to replace Chad Allen's spine with that kendo stick, Owen... and he came pretty frickin' close if you ask me. OA: This Walking Contradiction is out for blood... I talked to him in the locker room, and he made no bones about the fact that he's going to use his size advantage in this match... he's got 8 inches on Allen! CC: Yes, but let's not forget that these guys are more or less the same weight, Owen... Sabby's a scrawny little man, and if Chad Allen can use some of his girth, with some strong power moves, it'd be a size advantage for _him_. OA: That was a great analysis, Cordell... you're becoming a top notch color man in this industry! CC: Your mother. OA: And just as quickly you lost all of my respect. [During the back and forth banter, Sabbath has exited the ring and is standing over Chad Allen. He holds his cane in the air, eliciting a chorus of boos from the pro-Chad Allen crowd. Allen is now getting up, and he is on all fours... straddling him is his opponent, however. As the camera pans in, blood has begun trickling along Chad Allen's back. Sabbath puts the kendo stick around Allen's neck and pulls upwards with both hands, attempting to choke the life out of his nemesis. The referee is immediately there, with a count on Sabby. When he reaches four, Sabbath releases the chokehold. Sabbath smiles at the ref as he drives the butt end of the stick right into the bludgeoned area of Allen's back! Allen falls limp back to the concrete, clutching his back and coughing for air. Sabbath now hoists his kendo stick and begins lacing into Allen. "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" Heel pop! Sabbath looks back into the crowd and talks trash with the front row. Chad Allen grabs at his back in excrutiating pain, welts beginning to form from the beating that Sabbath is giving him. He screams in agony as Sabbath turns his attention back to his opponent.] OA: Sabbath is really delivering a beating to Chad Allen here! CC: He's using that kendo stick to his advantage... and let's not forget that I think he's a better wrestler, so there's no question that he's gonna win this one. OA: That's truly a key aspect of this matchup, Cordell. CC: Don't get smart with me Owen, I'll slap the white off of your teeth. [Allen gets onto his knees again. Sabbath lunges forward... ] "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" [... but Allen hoists his kendo stick right into Sabbath's groin! Sabbath clutches his nether-regions and comes down his knees, cross-eyed. Allen stands, a bit wobbly, but re-energized. He brings the cane up... "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" AND DRIVES IT INTO SABBATH'S SKULL! _BIG_ POP! Sabbath keels over, his head busted wide the hell open!] OA: WHAT A SHOT! CC: That was _SICK_! He damn near split that thing over Sabbath's skull! OA: Sabbath may not be getting up after that one! CC: What do you think hurt more... the shot to the head or the shot to the... well, the head? OA: I think they probably both hurt a great deal! Sabbath is up, stumbling around, and he's running from Chad Allen... Allen stalks towards Sabbath, but he's managed to stumble all the way to the next side of the ring. Allen runs forward, and swings! "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" [POP!] CC: JESUS CHRIST! OA: A SAMMY SOSA-LIKE SWING FROM CHAD ALLEN, BUT SABBATH DUCKED OUT OF THE WAY AND ALLEN CONNECTED WITH THE RINGPOST! CC: THAT THING'S NOT FILLED WITH CORK THOUGH, AMBROSE! [Sabbath rotates 180 degrees and swings the kendo stick towards Allen's exposed midsection. "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" Pop! Allen doubles over in pain. Sabbath climbs the ring steps and walks onto the ring apron. He walks to the opposite side, his face slowly being covered by his own blood. The camera pans in on Chad Allen's back, which is simply devastated by the blows... covered in welts and blood. Sabbath runs along the apron, and flies!] "TTTHHHUUUDDD !!!" OA: _GOODNIGHT_! [Sabbath flew through the air, attempting a flying elbow to the small of Allen's back... Allen wisely moved, however, and Sabbath connected with the unforgiving concrete!] CC: Sabbath may have broken his elbow there, Owen! He took a big risk there and it didn't pay off! OA: Sabbath looks like he was knocked out by that fall, his eyes are open, but I don't think anyone's home! [Chad Allen reaches down to Sabbah's seemingly unconscious body and picks up his kendo stick! He holds both cane's high in the air to a big pop! Allen lets out a war cry before putting both of the kendo sticks into one hand. He lifts Sabbath up by his hair... and Irish whips him towards the ring steps. "CCCRRRAAASSSHHH !!!" Sabbath goes shoulder first into the ringsteps to a big pop! Chad Allen rolls both of the kendo sticks into the ring and is on his foe like white on rice, picking him up and tossing him into the ring.] CC: It looks like this match might actually go to the ring here, Owen. OA: Novel for what we've seen so far, that's for sure. [Allen attempts to get back into the ring, but Sayaka grabs onto his leg. Allen turns and gives her a straight-up _nasty_ glare, as if to say, "Bitch keep your ass out of this or I'll bust you open like Bobby Brown"... she backs off and Chad Allen comes back into the ring.] OA: Sayaka better be careful... she really should stay out of this, this is between two men, Cordell. CC: I think she got the point right there... one more time and I think Chad Allen's gonna shove one of those kendo sticks down her throat. [Allen reaches down and picks up both of the kendo sticks. He hoists them up and starts twirling them awaiting Sabbath. Sabbath uses the ropes to get back to his feet, his face now a crimson mask. Sabbath turns around and sees Allen holding both of the canes and puts both hands in the air, begging off. The crowd reacts to this as Allen moves in for the kill with a sick smile on his face.] OA: I think Chad Allen is about to go postal! [Allen begins swinging wildly! "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" And he turns to the crowd and throws the sticks up! _HUGE_ POP! Sabbath lays on the mat, a crumpled heap!] OA: CHAD ALLEN IS INSANE! HE JUST THREW EIGHT OR NINE KENDO STICK SHOTS AT SABBATH WITH _RECKLESS ABANDON_! CC: Reckless abandon is right, Owen! He was just swinging away, not even pretending to aim! So long as he hit Sabbath he was happy! [Sabbath rolls to the outside of the ring, while Allen continues playing to the crowd.] OA: Chad Allen may have just put a cork on this match, Cordell! I mean, hell, he's got _both_ Singapore canes! CC: Sabbath is crawling _underneath_ the ring, Owen. What the hell is he doing?! OA: I don't know, but it looks like the man from Queens has caught on, and he's down outside of the ring himself! [Allen is quickly to the outside, dropping the kendo sticks in the ring. Sabbath's feet are sticking out from under the apron, and Sabbath drags him back into the arena. Allen bends down to grab his hair, but Sabbath reaches up and _drives_ something into his face! Allen falls, clutching his face and kicking his feet, yelping in pain! The camera pans in and we see what Sabbath has in his hand... ... A STRAND OF BARBED WIRE! HEEL POP!] OA: GOOD GOD! SABBATH JUST SHOVED BARBED WIRE INTO THE _FACE_ OF CHAD ALLEN! THAT IS _DISGUSTING_! CC: ALLEN'S FACE MUST LOOK LIKE GRATED, BLOODY CHEESE! [Sabbath is up, his face filled with pain, and he reaches for the ring and grabs one of the kendo sticks... the only way you can tell at this point whether it's his or not is to do a blood type test on it and make sure that the crimson belongs to Chad Allen. He then slowly begins wrapping the barbed wire _around_ the kendo stick. Dear God.] OA: Oh... oh this is bad. CC: This ain't your grandma's kendo stick match anymore, Owen! [He reaches the bottom, his kendo stick laced with sharp, steel barbed wire. Chad Allen is now up, his back turned to Sabbath. He turns around... the entire right side of his face now opened up. Sabbath swings! "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" And lands the cane directly in Allen's left shoulder! The cane sticks in Chad Allen's skin, piercing into the lowest levels of the epidermis... Sabbath jerks at the cane, lifting it back towards him. The barbed wire pulls out of Chad Allen's shoulder, ripping his skin on its way out. The crowd groans in a sick sort of approval for this and begins another "I-SLASH!" chant. Allen screams as he grabs his shoulder, which now begins gushing blood. He rolls into the ring, trying to get away from the man wielding the barbed wire kendo stick. He immediately grabs the other kendo stick to defend himself.] OA: THAT WAS _SICK_! HE MAY HAVE GONE MUSCLE DEEP, CORDELL! CC: There could be some _serious_ damage involved there, Owen! Muscles, tendons, ligaments, Sabbath could've punctured everything right there! [Sabbath charges at Allen, but Allen lifts his leg and delivers a boot to the midsection. He puts his cane around Sabbath's throat and drives him to the canvas with a White Russian Legsweep! Pop! Allen slaps the mat, drops his kendo stick, and rushes at Sabbath, in a fit of an apparent adrenaline rush. He picks Sabbath up and delivers a big right to the temple! And another! And a third, and Sabbath staggers into the ropes. He delivers a big knife-edged chop! "WWWHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" And then an Irish whip. Allen follows Sabbath across the ring and drives his knee into Sabbath's midsection. Sabbath flips end over end and lands on the mat. He immediately sits up and clutches his back. Allen drives his boot into the back of Sabbath's head, then puts him into a rear chinlock.] CC: It looks like Chad Allen's trying to _wrestle_ here. I'll be damned. OA: Well, I think once Sabbath pulled out the barbed wire kendo stick, Allen realized he might be better off fighting _without_ those sticks... and it's also possible that he's going to try to wear down Sabbath and go for the kill. [Allen wrenches at the chinlock, trying to suffocate the Walking Contradiction. Sabbath reaches up and tries to grab Allen's head but Allen shakes him off. He tries again, and again Allen shakes him off... and the third time he throws a thumb right into Allen's eye. Allen immediately breaks the hold and grabs his eye, which now is invisible behind the mask of blood. Sabbath tries to crawl towards the cane, but Allen jumps towards him and drops an elbow across the neck. He turns Sabbath over and attempts the cover. One! Two! kickout! Sabbath narrowly escapes the quick pin attempt by Allen. Allen brings Sabbath up, but Sabbath pushes his arms away and delivers a stiff jab to the nose. Allen backs up and Sabbath executes a masterful standing dropkick, which elicits a pop from the audience. The Seattle native is quickly on the offensive, stomping away on Allen as he grabs the top-rope for support. He puts his knee into Allen's throat, and uses the top-rope as leverage as he tries to choke his man... Geoff Cartwright counts to four and Sabbath lets go.] OA: And it looks like Sabbath has gone back to wrestling as well. CC: Or he's lost too much blood to recognize the fact that this is a Kendo Stick Match... these two guys are gonna need transfusions by the end of this. OA: Sabbath's back on the offensive, bringing Allen to his feet... "WWWHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" OA: ... _big_ knife-edged chop! He grabs the left arm, which was brutalized earlier, and he puts Chad Allen in an arm wringer... Allen's in obvious pain as Sabbath twists his arm as far as is humanly possible here... Sabbath pulls Allen in and delivers a big time short clothesline! CC: He ran him over like a bulldozer! [He lifts Allen up, and underhooks both arms... and drops him with a big double-arm DDT! Sabby rolls him over and goes for the pin, grapevining the near leg! One! Two! THREE!!!] OA: THAT'S IT! THAT'S IT! [Geoff Cartwright is up and he holds up two fingers! BIG POP!] OA: NO! CARTWRIGHT'S SAYING IT WAS TWO! THE MATCH CONTINUES! CHAD ALLEN GOT HIS SHOULDER UP! [Sabbath, obviously frustrated, grabs his barbed wire-laced kendo stick. He then takes it with him as he scales the turnbuckle.] OA: Sabby's on his way up the ropes, Cordell. And he's got that cane with him! CC: He doesn't have good intentions, I assure you. OA: Did you get that from the fact that these two men have covered this mat and themselves in each other's blood, or the fact that he wrapped _barbed_ _freakin'_ _wire_ around that Singapore cane?! CC: Yes. OA: What? [Sabbath is now perched on top, awaiting Chad Allen. Allen gets to his feet, groggy... He turns, and Sabbath flies! AND CLOTHESLINES HIM TO THE CANVAS WITH THE _CANE_! _HUUUUGE_ POP!] CC: HOLY [BLEEP], OWEN! OA: INDEED! CC: I mean... I... holy _[BLEEP]_! OA: Chad Allen's _throat_ is lacerated! Stop this match, stop it now! [Sabbath crawls to Allen and hooks his leg! One! Two! Thr... _NO_! ___POP___!!!] OA: HOW THE _HELL_?! CHAD ALLEN GOT HIS SHOULDER UP! CC: HE WANTS THIS, OWEN! He may not be able to breathe, but I'll be damned, he knows how to kick out when he hears the word "two!" [Sabby looks over at the ref and begins arguing with him about the logistics of someone getting their shoulder off the canvas after it and the person's throat had been shredded by barbed wire. The camera then moves to Chad Allen, whose throat is lacerated in two spots, but thankfully, it appears that the cuts aren't that deep.] OA: Chad Allen's _throat_, Cordell, was cut open! And he got out of it! CC: And now he's somehow _getting up_! He's running on pure adrenaline, Ambrose, _pure_ adrenaline! [Sabbath immediately charges in and grabs Allen, who is clearly out on his feet. He delivers a European uppercut which sends Allen back into the corner, face-first. He puts his head underneath the arm of Chad Allen and hoists him, placing him on the top-rope, facing the crowd. Sabby then climbs the ropes and smiles as he looks into the crowd. He leaps up and lands on Chad Allen's shoulders!] OA: He's setting him up for his new finisher, that reverse 'rana, but he's making it a super reverse 'rana! This might not just win the match, it might end end Chad Allen's career! Dear God, don't do it! [Sabbath flies backwards!!! BUT CHAD ALLEN CLINGS TO THE ROPES! BOTH MEN ARE TRAPPED ON THE TOP-ROPE! Sabbath attempts to get off the reverse 'rana, but Chad Allen refuses to cooperate. Finally, Sabby takes one last, _huge_ attempt, using his entire body, and he pulls Chad Allen!] OA: OH NO! [Chad Allen's resolve is too great, and he maintains his spot on the top-rope, but it leaves Sabbath dangling upside down off of Allen's shoulders! Allen reaches behind himself and hooks up Sabbath's arms!] OA: WHAT IN THE HELL... NO NO NO NO _NO_! CC: GOOD GOD!!! [ALLEN JUMPS OFF THE TOP-ROPE! _HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE_ POP!!! TOP-ROPE VERTREBREAKER!!!] OA: DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN! CHAD ALLEN WITH A TOP-ROPE VERTEBREAKER! CC: STICK A FORK IN 'IM! [Allen immediately rotates and covers his man. One! Two! THREE!!! BIG POP!] OA: IT'S OVER! DING! DING! DING! FRANCINE: Here is your winner ... ["A New Level" by Pantera blasts.] C H A D A L L E N ! ! ! [Huge pop!] OA: WHAT A MATCH! What a display from these two competitors! CC: Hey, Owen... we've got a problem dude. [Geoff Cartwright is waving to the locker room, making the dreaded "X" with his arms, and EMTs are immediately on the scene. They're all down, and looking at Sabbath, who doesn't appear to be moving. His woman, Sayaka, has entered the ring and is by the side of Sabbath, who doesn't appear to be moving.] OA: Oh no... that top-rope vertebreaker was obviously a devastating maneuver, but I really hope that there was no damage done. CC: You hate to speculate in times like these, Owen... but he could have easily broken his neck or his cervical vertebrae. This is bad, Ambrose... real bad. [The music dies down as Chad Allen stops his celebration and turns to the man that has caused him so much trouble as of late, obviously a little shaken up. Sabby's neck is now fitted into a cervical collar.] OA: Well, fans, we'll get you some news on Sabbath as soon as we get any... we just hope that he's alright. Nobody wants to see a competitor fall like this. CC: Definitely not... even Chad Allen looks shaken up... I'm sure that he had no intentions of doing _this_, but he looks like he feels responsible, Owen. [Sabby is placed on a stretcher by the top-notch I-Slash EMT crew and he is rolled towards the exit. Sayaka stays by his side, and Chad Allen follows a safe distance behind, looking very worried.] OA: This is by no means Chad Allen's fault... he did what his instincts, what his _training_, told him to... Sabbath was on his shoulders and he was simply reacting. Regardless, that top-rope vertebreaker looked _nasty_, Cordell... and the results are obvious. CC: Well, Chad Allen got the win, but hopefully... we haven't heard the last of Sabbath. [We fade in slowly on Anthony Edwards, speaking with a technical crew about an interview line-up. The cameramen and techs listen carefully as the senior interviewer goes over the schedule.] AE: Alright, we'll need to set up in the locker room area for a spot with Eric Travers... then the parking lot for Reason. After that, I'm not sure if we'll need to travel around Mr. Nelson or Justin Arcola, I haven't gotten that part of the *ERK!* [That *ERK!* was Edwards being forcefully pulled away by the scruff of his neck by a rather large person in black. The camera jerks to catch this, and we see the massive behemoth in black that is "Marz" Candress.] AE: HEY! HEY! GET OFF! SOMEBODY GET SOMEBODY! [Just as Edwards is shouting for help, "Heavy Mental" Dave Pietka walks by, dressed in a red shirt and some jeans, with a duffel bag slung over his arm. Devin DeMasters is quick to follow, wagging a finger to the cameraman to follow. They only travel down a short distance until they get into a janitor's closet. Inside, Edwards is slumped against the wall. The shot's pretty poor, as we only see Pietka's back, looking at Edwards. Edwards has a look of fear and shock on his face.] AE: What's going on, Mr. Pietka! I have work to do, and I don't have time to be the victim of one of your little pranks! HEAVY MENTAL: RELAX, Tony... and don't flatter yourself. I don't have the time, inclination, nor do I have the interest to mess around with you. This is just a late addition to your little "schedule", and the best part is that you don't have to say much. All you have to really say is "What do you have planned". You _can_ handle that, can't you? AE: Of course I can. HEAVY MENTAL: Then WHY haven't you ASKED me yet? AE: Uh... what do you have planned? [Pietka chuckles darkly, and that doesn't sit well with Edwards.] HEAVY MENTAL: There's gonna be one piece of equipment in this closet that's gonna get used more than anything else, Tony. And it's not the mop, which I think is too cliche even for me. They're gonna have to break out the damn OxyClean after my match... because I don't intend on letting them go without any marks or any cuts. AE: So you're gonna try to make this a Hardcore match? HEAVY MENTAL: Oh, you know me well, Tony... except you know I never have to TRY. It always just ends up that way. But when I get there... I'm gonna grind their bones, their blood, their organs, and their clothing right into the canvas. They're gonna have to get on some kneepads and get in there with toothbrushes, it'll be that nasty. [Pietka turns away, about to walk away.] HEAVY MENTAL: Friend or not... delusional, decrepit, shrivled-up albino or not... Viper and Hightower are gonna get knocked off something awful, and if Bob's with them... they'll be fortunate enough not to remember it. [Pietka starts to walk away, and Edwards slowly starts to make his way up... more confused that before.] OA: Tonight is the biggest night in fantasy grappling history, my friend Cordell Crane, I have no doubts in my mind about that. CC: I might have to agree with you Owen! The names on this card tonight, with me conspicuously absent of course, make up the biggest names in e-wrestling _history_, past, present, and future! I'm not just talking about our I Slash circle, I am honest-to-god telling the entire _world_. The I Slash is the place to be. OA: Only on our midcard can you find colossal names like Dave Pietka, Vince Viper, and the one and only, Hightower. Only here can you find an Intercontinental championship that _means_ something! CC: I was actually talking about our main events tonight ... OA: To the ring! o------------------------------------------------------o o------< IWF/WOW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIP >-------o o------------------------------------------------------o "Heavy Mental" Dave Pietka vs. "Vile" Vince Viper vs. Hightower o------------------------------------------------------o o------------------------------------------------------o FRANCINE: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! It is a DEVIL'S TRIANGLE match for the IWF/WOW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIP!!! [POP!!!] ["Those Were the Days" covered by the Leningrad Cowboys begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd is completely indifferent.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from Bucharest, Romania, standing 5' feet 9' inches and weighing 259 pounds, here is ... "V I L E" V I N C E V I P E R ! ! ! [Vile walks out in his doc martins costume made to look like loafers. The king of snakes wears a black, snakeskin, suit, with red silk shirt, and black leather tie. TripleV flips off the audience on the way down, but this evokes little more than yawns, from a group of small children.] CC: Vile looking dapper tonight, Owen! OA: Not hard to do when you're wearing the same thing all the time, Cordell. I ... [A streaking flash heads down the ramp behind Viper!] OA: HEY! THAT'S HIGHTOWER! HE'S ATTACKING VIPER FROM BEHIND! [The crowd ROARS their approval!] CC: Viper didn't see that coming! Not fair! OA: Hightower throws Viper into the railing! This crowd is going nuts! And Hightower is a ball of FLAME right now! He throws Viper OVER the railing now! Viper might have hit his head on the concrete! [The opening bass beats of "Clint Eastwood" by The Gorillaz echoes through the arena] OA: Here's the champ! [... and the song starts normally... until we hear what sounds like a record scratching. Then, Metallica's "Unforgiven II" starts to blast through the PA. Standing at the entryway is Dave Pietka... but WHAT is he wearing? A black overcoat? Oakleys? His mullet is even tied back in a pony tail to give the illusion of short hair. And a metal bat in his right hand?] OA: What is _this?_ This is NOT the same Dave PIetka I know! And he's just standing there while Hightower destroys Viper! Hightower hasn't even looked at the aisleway yet! CC: Come on Pietka! ["Double D" Devin DeMasters and "Marz" Candress join Pietka in the entryway, and flank him at both sides. All three just stand there... and Pietka raises his bat and points it at the ring, where both Hightower and Vince Viper are waiting for him, just as confused as everyone else. DeMasters takes this as a cue and steps behind Pietka, unbuttoning Pietka's overcoat.] OA: What? CC: This is a title defense, not the Dave Pietka Fun Time Strip Show! [DeMasters finishes, placing her hands on the openings of the coat... And spreads them open to reveal two things... The IWF/WOW Intercontinental Championship.... and a t-shirt that reads "FOREVER UNFORGIVEN"! The crowd marks at the piece of I-Slash Nostaligia.] OA: Cordell! This is Pietka appearing as his former self! This is 'The Unforgiven' Dave Pietka! If my history is correct he's taking this moment to regress back to a time when he actually _used_ Hightower to humiliate the then-reigning stable of the I Slash, Arrogant Youth! This is a surprise Cordell! CC: Whoop-de-doo for his transformation - someone help Viper! Hightower just smashed his fist through his head! [Pietka starts walking towards the ring, his overcoat falling back into place and leaving DeMasters and Candress behind. They are quick to follow, however. Mental lowers his bat as he gets closer and closer to the two opponents. Hightower finally looks up at Pietka, seething] CC: Hightower is ready to fight, I'll say that much! [The trio arrive at ringside. Pietka hands his bat off to Candress, who holds it as Pietka extends his arms and DeMasters removes the overcoat from Mental's body. For those who could see, the back of Mental's shirt reads "The One Man TCM". His jeans and Cumberland Boots match his black shirt. DeMasters hands the overcoat off to Candress, and then removes the belt from Pietka's waist and slinging it over his shoulder. Pietka then removes the Oakleys from his face, handing them to DeMasters, and takes his bat back from Candress. Then... to the biggest shock to everyone watching - Pietka motions for DeMasters and Candress to leave.] OA: WOW! THEY'RE LEAVING PIETKA! CC: What do you know - he's actually gonna wrestle this one himself! OA: And Pietka walking towards the two now! Hightower looks ready to explode, but ... what's this? Pietka picks up Viper? He holds him for Hightower! CC: OH COME ON! [The fans respond to the double-team!] OA: And Pietka tosses Viper in the ring! Viper is _already_ spent here! Here comes Hightower back in now! And can you believe this Cordell? With the history between Hightower and Pietka, here they are TEAMING UP on Triple V! CC: Strange things happen at big cards, Owen. They're using process of elimination here! OA: Pietka with an uppercut! A jab to the midsection! Hightower with a knee lift! And they _both_ throw Viper over the top rope! CC: HE'S OUTTA HERE! OA: And now ... [Hightower and Pietka turn to each other] OA: It's just them ... [OMG - the crowd just orgasmed!] OA: They're staring each other down! This is the moment this crowd has wanted to see, and it didn't take long! They just needed to get rid of Viper first! They're ready to come to blows now! They're ... [BOO THAT MAN!] OA: Viper just hit Pietka from behind! [AHH!!] And Pietka just turns and _stares!_ Viper shrugs his shoulders! What _could_ you do in this situation? Pietka explodes on Viper! Left! Left! Holy Lord! [DING!] Pietka just ROESHAMBEAU'D him, Cordell! CC: Calm down, Owen. It's just a nutkick. OA: Yes, well ... Viper is down _again_, this time inside the ring. [Pietka turns and stares at Hightower] [GAH!] OAA: These two are alone again! How long will they tease us? CC: Hightower's _frothing_, Owen. OA: Hightower goes for a punch ... Pietka ducks! They're going now folks! Watch out! Pietka kicks him in the knee! Hightower clubs Pietka! Pietka tosses him into the ropes! Hightower comes back! Pietka with a side leg ... NO! Hightower ducked and Pietka floated over! Here he comes back ... clothesline missed!! Hightower comes back again! "BOOM!" CC: Shoulderblock! NO ONE MOVES! OA: THESE TWO ARE FIRED UP! AND SO ARE THESE PEOPLE! THEY HAVE BEEN THROUGH _SO MUCH_ TOGETHER! CC: Has Viper even _moved_ this match? I don't recall him doing anything but laying around like a sack of coal! OA: Hightower _finally_ has his hands on Pietka! He's had enough! Hightower _LIFTS PIETKA INTO THE AIR!_ _PRESS SLAM!_ COVER! ONE! TWO! VIPER IS ALIVE! VIPER KICKED HIGHTOWER! CC: Man, he's got to stop interfering. OA: Viper _is_ part of this match ladies and gentlemen, and he has absolutely NOTHING to lose here tonight! This might be a sound strategy - letting 'Tower and Pietka knock each other out! CC: Oh man, Hightower's got Viper! Roundhouse knocks Viper into the corner! OA: Piekta with a knee from behind! [BAM!] And Hightower is _launched_ into Viper! He smashed him into the corner! CC: I'm feeling bad for VVV right now ... OA: Hightower with an atomic drop on the champion! But Pietka rolls to his stomach! Smart strategy there! Hightower picks him up ... CC: ANOTHER groin shot! Pietka's desparate bro. OA: Desparate but it works here! Pietka gathering himself, and ... wow! A suplex on the big man! Two elbow drops! Pietka realizes that he has to keep him down now! There's a legdrop, into a leg scissors! Impressive wrestling by 'Heavy Mental'! CC: Is Viper out cold? OA: Who knows, but Hightower is shaking the cobwebs! He's grabbed Pietka by the throat! Look at the length of this man's arms! Pietka is forced to drop the hold! Hightower is hanging on! The referee is not liking this, but these people sure are! ... Pietka with a break, and now a choke of HIS own! Pietka takes out 'Tower's legs! What a move! Hightower down to the mat again! CC: I'm impressed. OA: Now Pietka to a headlock, but Hightower easily raises up on that. He nudges Pietka into the ropes, and oh! WHAT A MOVE AND THEY'RE BOTH OUTSIDE! [A quick replay shows Pietka falling into the ropes, but grabbing Hightower at the same time and flipping over the top, the momentum taking both over. Hightower is the worse off as he hits the ground first] CC: That was a carousel of _death_ baby. OA: Uh-oh! Pietka calling to the fans and now he's got that bat in his hand! This is a cause for concern people! [Pietka smiles as he brings his bat up, running at Hightower! "CCCLLLAAANNNGGG !!!" But he splinters the bat across the ringpost! Hightower ducks out of the way!] CC: DAVE PIETKA JUST WENT YARD! [Pietka holds in his hand the stump of a baseball bat. He turns around and eats a big boot to the face from the larger Hightower. Pietka's head bounces off the cement, virtually knocking him out. Hightower attempts to make his way back into the ring, where Vince Viper is just now getting his wits about him, when he is pulled downwards... ... by a midget from underneath the ring.] OA: What in the -- CC: -- one of Triple V's midgets just emerged from under the ring, and he's holding onto Hightower! He's gonna get his little ass kicked all over this little ring if he's not a little more careful! [Hightower comes back down, and the midget hands him something... he looks down and notices that he has a computer keyboard in his hand.] OA: I repeat... what in the -- CC: -- I think the midget just gave Hightower that thing to use on Pietka! Pietka's getting back up! [Pietka turns around and sees Hightower with the keyboard in his hand. He puts his hands in the air, possibly begging off, but Hightower swings the keyboard regardless! "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" AND DROPS IT DOWN OVER PIETKA'S SKULL! POP!] CC: THAT KEYBOARD JUST _SHATTERED_ OVER THE SKULL OF HEAVY MENTAL! OA: Pietka is back down, and Hightower is on top of him, rights and lefts to the skull! He's straddling him and brutalizing him! CC: That midget certainly served his purpose! He deflected the attention away from his man, "Vile" Vince Viper, and Triple V's strategy seems to be working... these two guys are breaking each other down and the Snake-man is in great shape. [Hightower is now up, and he diverts his attention towards the ring. He steps over the top-rope and in. VVV is waiting, however, and he delivers a knee to the midsection, doubling over the bigger man. He brings Hightower across the ring for a drive into the turnbuckle, but the man formerly known as Hightower and Chris Shannon and Hightower and Andrew Johnston and Hightower but now known as Hightower blocks! He reverses and drives VVV head-first into the turnbuckle! Pop! Viper stumbles into the center of the ring, checking his nose for blood. He turns around and eats a big-time clothesline, which knocks Viper for a 360! Viper hits the mat hard, and Hightower goes for the cover! ONE! TWO! Viper gets his shoulder up!] OA: Hightower was _that_ close to winning the Intercontinental Title! CC: _That_ close doesn't cut it though, Owen... Viper's a grisled veteran... and this is all he has, Owen! He's run out of tricks, all he has is this IC Title, and he's not going down this quickly! [On the outside of the ring, Pietka is on his way up once again... he stumbles to his feet, a stream of blood trickling down his forehead from the keyboard shot. Unexpectedly, from underneath the ring appears another midget! This midget hands Pietka another baseball bat, and Pietka nods at the midget, looks at the bat quizzically, and steps onto the ring apron.] OA: These midgets are really wreaking havoc, Cordell. CC: I don't understand why they're giving Pietka and Hightower all of the weapons... their man is Triple V! OA: I think that they're hoping that Hightower and Dave Pietka ruin each other! [Hightower is now onto Pietka, and begins striding towards him. Viper crawls up from behind him, however, and... "_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!!!" ... delivers a big time groin shot to Hightower! HEEL POP! Hightower goes down to his knees, and Pietka enters the ring with the baseball bat! He lifts it up, high above the head of the prone 'tower!] CC: HE'S GONNA END HIGHTOWER RIGHT HERE, OWEN! [But the referee intercedes, grabbing the back of the bat! Pietka struggles, and Hightower gets the energy to push Pietka back... ... right into the ref! The referee bumps and falls through the second and third ropes, to the outside! Pop!] OA: There goes the ref! The ref is down! CC: And the bat is on the ground! [A mad scramble ensues, as all three men race for the baseball bat... they all get there, and they all stand, but the man with the bat in his hand is... ... VINCE VIPER! HEEL POP! He swings wildly! "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" AND _NAILS_ PIETKA IN THE CHEST! Pietka falls against the turnbuckle, and Viper swings again! But this time, Hightower catches the bat! He pushes it backwards and it connect with Triple V right in the head! Viper hits the ground, as the bat is free once again. Viper turns around, and Hightower is right there with a big clothesline which sends Viper over the top-rope and to the outside! POP!] OA: THIS HAS TURNED INTO A MELEE! CC: And not only that, this match has turned into an absolute _frenzy_! OA: That's... more or less a melee, Cordell. CC: BITE ME, OWEN! THIS IS SET IT OFF, AND I'M LOSING MY MIND! [Hightower turns his attention back to Pietka, who's struggling for air in the corner and may just have a broken rib or two. Hightower charges in and delivers a lariat to Pietka which knocks him straight out of his boots! Hightower now climbs to the second rope, and he throws a hard right hand to the side of the temple! The crowd begins counting along with the fists of fury! CROWD: 1! 2! 3! 4! 5! 6! 7! 8! 9! 10! And Hightower gets off of Pietka. Pietka, walking unconsciously, wobbles to the center of the ring... and falls face-first on the canvas! POP! Hightower turns him over and attempts the pin! The referee crawls back into the ring and makes a slow, deliberate cover! ONE!! TWO!! THR-- _NO_! The ref holds up two fingers as Pietka drives his shoulder up!] CC: Sheer resilience from the Champion Owen! He only got that shoulder up out of pure _instinct_! OA: But Hightower is right back on the offensive! He's brought Pietka back up to his feet... Irish whip... and he catches him... _BIG_ sidewalk slam!!! THE COVER! ONE!! TWO!! CC: PIETKA'S FOOT IS ON THE ROPES! THREE!!! [HUGE POP! But no! The ref saw the foot! Hightower is off of his man, thinking he has won the match, his arms raised high in the air.] OA: Hightower thinks he won this thing, but Pietka's foot was on the rope! CC: The ref's telling this giant clown that he hasn't won, but he doesn't believe it! [From under the ring... yet another midget! He slides a chair into the ring! The referee, still woozy and distracted by Hightower, doesn't notice. The midget is back under the ring as quickly as he appeared, and Triple V, who is still on the outside of the ring, gives him the thumbs up on the way back in!] OA: Vince Viper is _fine_, damnit! He's just faking it out there, he's trying to get these two to kill each other and he's gonna pick up the pieces! What a scavenger! CC: Pietka is back on his feet! Hightower doesn't know it! [Hightower turns around... and is victimized by the Spaz Out! POP!] OA: ENZUIGURI RIGHT TO THE FACE! GOOD GOD! [Pietka covers, hooking both legs! ONE!! TWO!! HIGHTOWER THRUSTS OUT, SHOVING PIETKA THROUGH THE ROPES AND TO THE OUTSIDE!] OA: Hightower ain't done! Pietka just landed face-first on the cement! CC: 'Tower's sliding underneath the bottom rope, and he's to the outside now... and he's picking up that chair that the midget tossed into the ring! [The referee is on the outside, trying to convince Hightower not to use the chair... he turns and argues with the ref, and Pietka shoves Hightower from behind! "CCCRRRAAACCCKKK !!!" "CCCLLLAAANNNGGG !!!" _POP_!] OA: HIGHTOWER AND THE REF JUST MADE A SANDWICH OUT OF THAT CHAIR, AND THEIR RESPECTIVE FACES WERE THE BREAD! CC: AND EVEN WORSE, THE REF CLANGED HIS HEAD RIGHT OFF THE RINGPOST! HE'S OUT! OA: I DON'T THINK HIGHTOWER'S IN MUCH BETTER SHAPE, CORDELL! [Pietka rolls Hightower back into the ring, albeit with a lot of effort trying to get the big man up and in. Pietka himself enters by rolling under the bottom rope... and picks up that baseball bat! Feigned Forgiveness!] OA: HE'S GOT THE BAT! HE'S GOT THE BAT! HE'S GOT THE -- "_OOOOHHHH_!!!" [Viper immediately hits the ring and dropkicks the bat into Pietka's face, knocking him back to the outside!] OA: That Triple V is a sneaky sumvabitch! He entered the ring out of nowhere and dropped Pietka like he was hot! CC: He's not done either, Owen... this is the time! This is Viper's time! [Viper now goes to the outside, picking Pietka up. He throws a hard European uppercut to Pietka's jaw, sending the veteran backwards... Pietka, in what seems like one fluid movement, picks his bat back up, laces it between Viper's unsuspecting arms, and... _POP_! GOD DAMN DDT!] OA: GOD DAMN DDT _WITH_ THE BASEBALL BAT! CC: HE CALLS THAT THE FUBAR DDT, AND HE HIT IT OUT OF NOWHERE, ON THE _CEMENT_! VINCE VIPER IS _OUT_! WHAT A MOVE! WHAT A MOVE! [Pietka immediately goes back to the ring, his face now busted open in one more spot, and looks down at Hightower, who is using the ropes to climb back to his feet. He looks at the bat in his hand, raising it high in the air!!! And he puts the bat down. BIG POP! He approaches Hightower from behind, and applies an armbar around his right arm, pulling him back towards the ring. He reaches around with his own right hand, from behind, and grabs at Hightower's windpipe! He then brings Hightower to the ground, wrapping his legs around the big man!] OA: HE CALLS THAT THE PRIDE CHOKER, CORDELL! HE'S GOT HIGHTOWER IN THE CENTER OF THE RING AND HE'S CHOKING THE LIFE OUT OF HIM! [The referee climbs back into the ring for a second time, _his_ head also split open. He literally _crawls_ to Hightower and Pietka, and lifts Hightower's arm once... it falls. He lifts it a second time... it falls! He lifts it a third time... and it stays up! Hightower's arm stays high in the air, trying to get the crowd into it!] OA: HE'S STILL ALIVE! HIGHTOWER'S ARM IS UP! HE'S USING IT TO ASK FOR THE CROWD'S HELP! [Hightower attempts to move, but Pietka just wrenches in deeper, suffocating Hightower and collapsing his windpipe. The energy in Hightower's arm is quickly leaving... and as it does, his arm falls to the canvas. The referee turns and calls for the bell.] DING! DING! DING! CC: That's it, Owen! Pietka just knocked out both of these men! ["Clint Eastwood" by the Gorillaz blasts again as Pietka releases the hold.] FRANCINE: Here is your winner ... And STILL IWF/WOW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION ... "H E A V Y M E N T A L" D A V E P I E T K A ! ! ! [Heel pop! Pietka immediately leaves the ring and straddles the unconscious Vince Viper, throwing rights and lefts into the downed man's face! The crowd jeers this act.] OA: What the hell is Pietka doing?! Hasn't he done enough?! He knocked out Hightower, he knocked out Triple V, and now he's hitting an unconscious man! [Security floods the ringside area, pulling the IC Champ off of VVV. The referee intercedes, handing Pietka his belt.] CC: Security's out here protecting Viper from any more harm... but take a look at this, Owen... Pietka knocked out Viper. He knocked out Hightower. He bludgeoned the freakin' referee... and all without the help of his managers, whom he sent to the locker room before the match even started! He's ready to move up, Owen, and he's proven that _tonight_! OA: Well, he certainly proved himself here, but with that Intercontinental Title in his arms, he's gonna have a lot more comers on the way! [Close up of a frosty mug full of beer, the suds dripping down the side and spilling onto the table. It's lifted -- and we hear a few gulps -- and then a big, hairy hand sets it down.] # KLUNK! # [The suds drip down again. The glass is half full. It's picked up, and we hear a few more gulps.] # KLUNK! # [It's down -- and it's empty.] VOICE -- [groggily] 'Nother beer? [The shot zooms out slightly ... and swings around. We see what must be at least a dozen equally sudsy beer mugs ... all of them empty.] VOICE -- 'Ja hear that, honey? I could use another -- [Clack, clack, clack ... the sound of high-heeled shoes is unmistakable, and it stops the voice.] FEMALE VOICE -- Oh, I heard it. But I think you're all out of beer, Gunnar. [The shot swings around to see Cheryl Gaines standing in the doorway. She looks great -- but she also looks quite displeased. She has a sundress on, flowered, which looks quite fetching.] VOICE -- [slurring] Oh, I don't think we're out of beer ... I think there's some more in the ... uh .... [LONG pause ... ] Bah, never mind. Can't you just whip out one of those hoots? Either way, it solves my thirst. [Cheryl's expression of displeasure turns to one of shock.] VOICE -- [slurring even worse] I know what you're thinking. You're thinking your titmilk is mush weaker than my beer. Shtuff's more watery than Budweiser! But I gotta have a drink of something, otherwise they kick me out of the bar! [Chery's look of shock turns to one of appallment ... then pity.] CHERYL -- You're not at the bar. You're at home, and you're drunk, Gunnar. Really, really drunk. [Wider shot that takes them both in. It's Gunnar, all right ... and he looks shitfaced. His normally bushy beard is matted to his face, wet down with an abundance of beer that didn't quite make it between his lips. He wobbles in his chair, bloodshot eyes wandering.] What is your problem? I've never seen you like this before! GUNNAR -- Thatsh because I do it behind your back ... _bee-yatch_. [He burps loudly.] CHERYL -- I'm going to ignore that, and pretend it was a joke. Look, Gunnar. I'm tired of your erratic ass pissing away your career ... GUNNAR -- Yeah. Well, speaking of pissh ... [He starts to get up ...] CHERYL -- _Sit down_ -- and hold it in for a minute, willya? [He does. Cheryl squints at him, staring right into his glassy eyes. She waits, trying to hold all her anger in, and then she can do so no more.] CHERYL -- What the hell was wrong with you at Graphic Nature? You weren't yourself. You fell for a fake Matthew Reason that your grandpa could have spotted without his eyeglasses from 100 yards away. That allowed Reason to choke out Trey Porter, and it almost cost your team the win against a really mediocre tag team. Then, you came out and thought that Kiljoy was going to hand you the world title. He didn't, of course. Instead, he had that bitch, Samantha Reason, kick you right in the balls. This isn't you, Gunnar. This isn't you to fall for this crap. What gives? GUNNAR -- What gives? Reason anesthetized me with a fricking needle. A FRICKING NEEDLE, do you understand that!? CHERYL -- Yes, Gunnar, he did. But you've anesthetized yourself first, just like you're doing right now. Otherwise, it would never have happened. The Gunnar I know wouldn't let himself get stuck, and would shrug it off and laugh if he did. GUNNAR -- Yeah ... well, there'sh a lot about Gunnar you don't know. [He burrrrrrrrps again.] CHERYL -- You know something? Paul Kiljoy was wrong. You had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with the death of his family. He brings THAT up!? Completely irrational. Utter nonsense. Complete bullshit. [Gunnar nods.] GUNNAR -- Thatsh right. BLOOOOP! BLOOOOP! BLOOOP! [He reaches down to the floor, picks up one of his trademark BS guns, and turns it on. It makes the noise.] ## BLOOO-O-O-O-O-OP! ## ## BLOOO-O-O-O-O-OP! ## ## BLOOO-O-O-O-O-OP! ## ## BLOOO-O-O- [Cheryl pulls it away. Gunnar meekly lets her. Click. She turns it off.] CHERYL -- I wasn't done. Paul Kiljoy was wrong, but Paul Kiljoy was also right. You're an alcoholic. A disgusting, pathetic alcoholic. That stuff used to be your strength -- that little extra that gave you your edge. Well, now it's just an edge you use to cut yourself, and no one thinks it's funny. GUNNAR -- WHAT?! The fans love me ... woman! They love the BS gun! They love the Grizzly Grin! [He stands up.] WHY, THEY LOVE ALL ELEVEN OF MY TRADEMARKED GUNNAR GAINESH T-SHIRTS! [Cheryl nudges Gunnar in the middle of his breastplate, and he drifts backward, landing in his chair.] CHERYL -- I'm not talking about the fans. They know what you've been through, they know what you've done, and they HATE the people who want to destroy you. You've got those fans in your hip pocket ... GUNNAR [clapping] -- Damn straight! CHERYL -- ... but that's because they don't have to put up with you. I do. Gunnar ... Set it Off is just a short time away, and I don't want you to embarass me. I don't want you to let me down ... and I don't want you to let Trey Porter down. You have a match to win out there ... a title to win. And despite all the drinking, all the joking, all your half-assed efforts ... you can do it. You can win. Because on your best day, you're better than all of them out there. But anything less ... and you're worse. GUNNAR [confused] -- Worsh? CHERYL -- Exactly. Look, I doubt you'll remember any of this. That's why I had Grandpa tape it for us. [The camera nods, indicating it's indeed Geezer behind the lens.] CHERYL -- And when you wake up tomorrow, hopefully sober, you'll watch it. I'm going to make sure you do. And then, you'll watch it again ... and again ... and again, until you get the message. Then ... I'm going to go back to ringside and manage you. GUNNAR [more confused] -- What? You NEVER managed me. That was for the Good Knightsh! They needed that, I didn't! Sure, you were at ringshide for me, but alwaysh as eye candy! CHERYL -- That's right. I'm saying, now you need me for that. [Gunnar looks even more confused, then like he's coming to a realization he doesn't want to realize.] CHERYL -- You don't like that, honey, and I don't either. But that's the way it is ... so welcome to reality. [The shot leaves Cheryl and focuses solely on Gunnar. He starts to have a sad look on his face, then he just buries it in his hands. Fade to black ...] [... and zoom out from the TV set we've been watching this entire time. We see a sober Gunnar watching the videotape that Geezer made. It's over now, but he continues to stare at the screen.] [He gets up, grabs a jacket, and walks out of the living room -- and out of the house -- with determination.] CC: Hah hah! Drunk Gunnar takes me to chuckletown. OA: It's no laughing matter, Cordell. Gunnar obviously has some issues, not the least of which is self-esteem oriented if he admits it or not. CC: Oh he's just a good ol' boy, bro. You know his motto is "I'll drink to that ... And that ... And that ... And that ..." OA: Stop it! CC: And that. OA: Cut it OUT! CC: And THAT! o------------------------------------------------o o--------< IWF/WOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP >-------o o------------------------------------------------o Super Cool vs. Hades & Mack Ensassarol o------------------------------------------------o o------------------------------------------------o FRANCINE: The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall! It is for the IWF/WOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP!! [POP!!!] FRANCINE: Introducing first ... [Lights go out.] [On the I Sore color bars appear.] [A loud high-pitched buzz screeches through the speakers.] #EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEŠŠŠŠ..# .................................. .............................. ................................... BRITISH WOMEN"S VOICE: SHOCK TV IS NOW ON THE AIR. [Fans boo loudly as The Bloodhound Gang's No Rest For the Wicked starts to play.] #I GET BOMBED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!# [Mack comes running out from behind the I Sore. He is dressed in a I HATE THE SUNSHINE KID T-shirt. His tights are silver with SHOCKER in red printed across the butt. He has matching silver knee pads and boots. The fans boo loudly. On the I Sore, images of Mack battling Vile Vince Viper, Sabin Figaro, Jacob Josh Jordan, and Maverick are shown at high speed. ] #much like Pearl Harbor# FRANCINE: Making his way to the ring, the junior member of the HOA. Weighing in at 258lbs, and hailing from the city of champions, Pittsburgh, PA ... this is ... "S H O C K E R" M A C K E N S A S S A R O L ! ! ! ! ! #The price is white right and I'm Bob Barker# #This is your brain on drugs# [He stops and gives the fans an angry sneer. They shower him with an "F U" chants.] #This is your brain on Jackie Onassis# #All you crotch goblins can kiss our asses# #Yes siree Bob like corn on the cob# #I'm all buttered up ready to hob nob# #Daddy is a kraut you're Nazi-occupied France# [Mack approaches the apron and loudly exchanges words with a fan.] #I'm gonna rise to the occasion inside my pants# #So yo ass yea you I want to Fraggle Rock your girlie# #Coming around the party coming around like Mr. Furley# #I'm Mr. Furley you're Jack Tripper# #You're dumb ass Gilligan and I'm the Skipper# #Tiptoe through my tulips and come and frolic# #Cause my name is Betty Ford and she's an alcoholic# #So here I am Rock Me Like A Hurricane# #Not a Scorpion but my sting will bring your dame a lot of pain# #And Daddy's gonna tell ya I'm as cool as Jack The Ripper# #Somewhat of a cut-throat but still a big tipper# #As I tickle you pink I bet my fingers start to stink# #I'm what's missing from your life and you're the missing link# #It doesn't matter how you win or lose it's how you lick it....# [Mack rolls into the ring and climbs up the turnbuckle. The T-shirt is ripped apart Hogan style. He lifts his arms and leans his head back.] #NO REST FOR THE WICKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!# #GET DOWN! DRINK IT UP! BRING IT ON! TAKE IT OFF!# #GET DOWN! DRINK IT UP! BRING IT ON! TAKE IT OFF!# #GET DOWN! DRINK IT UP! BRING IT ON! TAKE IT OFF!# #GET DOWN! DRINK IT UP! BRING IT ON! TAKE IT OFF!# #GET DOWN! DRINK IT UP! BRING IT ON! TAKE IT OFF!# #GET DOWN! DRINK IT UP! BRING IT ON! TAKE IT OFF!# FRANCINE: And his partner ... ["UNDER" by FILTER begins blasting over the PA. As soon as the first few guitar riffs hit, the fans jump to their feet with a chorus of boos.] FRANCINE: Ladies and gentlemen, about to make his way to the ring, weighing in at 273 pounds, From Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, the self-proclaimed "GOD of Wrestling", THIS IS.. H A D E S ! ! ! #I've got an empty point to make# [Hades bursts through the curtains at the first line of the song as the crescendo of jeers rains down on him.] #It's about a faith# #An empty point of view# #It's stinky through and through# [Hades stands at the entryway, and looks around at the crowd with a cocky grin on his face. He raises his arms in the air and does a spin to give everyone a good look. He then begins walking towards the ring almost plodding to the beat of the music.] #So YOU...think you've got some problems?# #So YOU...think you've got it bad?# #GOOD BOY!# #GOOOONE BAD!# #SO SORRY!# #SOOOOO SAD!# [Hades stops in the aisleway to flip off a few of the fans at ringside. He threatens to backhand another in the face, all the while his mouth is going 80 mph screaming taunts and expletives at the fans.] #Makes YOU...wonder if you can!# #It takes YOU...puts you in a can!# [Hades now climbs through the ropes, walks over to one of the corners, facing it, and puts his head down as he slowly jumps from foot to foot, psyching himself up for the match at hand. He takes a deep breath as a quieter part of the song begins.] #One thing I'm gonna do# #Something you don't wanna view# [Hades then leaps up to the second set of ropes as the song becomes intense once again, lifting his hands in the air, and flipping off the crowd who in turn, flips him off right back. Hades begins screaming at the top of his lungs at the crowd as the lead singer begins screaming.] #THIS IS MY WORLD!# #THIS IS MINE!# #THIS IS MY WORLD!# #THIS IS MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!!!!# [Hades then jumps down to the canvas and immediately walks to the center of the ring, yelling a few words at the ref on his way over. He stands in the center of the ring, burning a hole with his eyes at his opponent waiting for the match to start.] FRANCINE: Their opponents ... [A feedback screech from the loudspeakers pierces the ears of everyone in attendance. Then over the speakers comes...] "Everybody be cool." [... the soundbyte of George Clooney's Seth Gecko in From Dusk Till Dawn.] "You. " [The lights flicker and go out as a spotlight shines over the entrance way.] "Be cool." ["Name of the Game" by The Crystal Method begins to play over the loudspeakers. The crowd thunders with boos.] FRANCINE: About to enter the ring, from [city, state, country] standing six feet, one inch and weighing 231 pounds, here is one half of the IWF/WOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS ... J O H N N Y "C O O L" C O L E S ! ! ! [Johnny "Cool" Coles steps into spotlight, mirrored sunglasses slung over his face, arms outstrectched treating the chorus of boos like standing ovations. He literally basks in the glow. When lights come up Johnny makes his way to the ring wearing maroon tights trimmed with black and a strip down each leg and black boots with a maroon trim around the toe, laces and heel.] [Coles takes his time getting into the ring, sitting on the apron and taunting the rabid crowd. Eventually, he rolls under the bottom rope, hands off his shades and takes a seat in the corner, sitting on the top ropes.] FRANCINE: And his partner ... "Oooooooohhh!" # Guess whos back, back again # Super's back, tell a friend # Guess who's back, guess who's back, # Guess who's back # Guess who's back... ["Without Me (Super BOOYAH Remix)" by Eminem plays.] # We've created a monster! # Cuz nobody wants to see rasslin' no more they want Super, I aint kiddin' # Well if you want Super, this is what I'll give ya # A long n' skinny weiner mixed with some hard liquor FRANCINE: ... standing 6 feet 9 and weighing in at 280 pounds ... hailing from Detroit, Michigan ... One half of the IWF/WOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS ... # Some vodka that'll jumpstart your heart quicker than a shock when you get shocked # At the hospital by the Dr. when Super's not cooperating when he's rockin' the table while ya operating # You waited this long now stop debating cuz Super's back # He's in your face and masturbating # I know that you got a problem with him but your tongue on his nuts makes it complicating [A tall, dark haired man with a lazy demeanor walks the aisle wearing a wife beater and black windpants with three white stripes down the legs. He also wears a black wristband on each arm.] S U P E R S C O T T ! ! ! # So the FCC wont let him be or let you be me so let me see # They tried to shut him down in EMWC, but it feels so empty without Scotty # So come on and dip, bum on your lips, f*ck that, # Cum on your lips and some on your tits and get ready cuz this sh*t's about to get heavy # So bring on all ya lawsuits, F*CK YOU NELLIEEEEEEE! # NOW THIS LOOKS LIKE A JOB FOR ME # SO EVERBODY, JUST FOLLOW ME # CUZ WE NEED A LITTLE CONT-RO-VER-SY # CUZ IT FEELS SO EMPTY WITHOUT ME # I SAID THIS LOOKS LIKE A JOB FOR ME # SO EVERBODY, JUST FOLLOW ME # CUZ WE NEED A LITTLE CONT-RO-VER-SY # CUZ IT FEELS SO EMPTY WITHOUT ME [Super steps into the ring and aims four fingers to the sky, signifying his rank in the voters eyes.] OA: Mack Ensassarol is loosening up, and it looks as though he and Johnny Coles are going to begin this match. Cordell, you've been around for a while... Are Super Cool going to be thrown off by facing Hades and Mack instead of Hades and Spector? CC: The champs have been preparing for Spector, so that may become a slight factor, but Coles and Super Scott have been around the block a few times themselves... They are familiar enough with Ensassarol that this won't be a huge adjustment. DING! DING! OA: Ensassarol and Coles circle each other and lock up... Both men jockeying for position, but Ensassarol seems to be moving Coles... Drop toe hold by Coles!! And Johnny Coles slaps Mack in the back of the head!! CC: Ensassarol looks a little ticked off by that. OA: Coles is trying to get into Mack's head. Ensassarol stands up, glaring at a smiling Johnny Coles. Ensassarol moves in, and he and Coles lock up again. Mack pushes Coles into a neutral corner... Geoff Cartwright moves in to break things up... Mack swings... and MISSES! Coles turns Mack into the corner, and SLAPS him across the face!! Mack is really angry now... CC: What was your first clue? When he kicked the bottom rope, or when he slapped the turnbuckle? OA: The turnbuckle. CC: Coles had better be careful. Mack looks ready to kill right now, and if he gets his hands on Johnny Coles, Coles may be in for a long night. OA: Coles doesn't look all that worried, in fact he looks like he's enjoying himself. Coles and Mack lock up once again... Knee to the stomach by Ensassarol! There's another! And a BIG kneelift knocks Coles to the mat! CC: I don't think Johnny's enjoying himself quite as much now. OA: Probably not. Mack lifts Coles and tags in Hades. Hades in and the HOA whip Coles into the ropes... Double elbow drops Coles! Hades grabs Coles and lifts him to his feet. Hades sets Coles up... Back Suplex... No, Coles rolls over... And dropkicks Hades in the back of the head!! Coles stands and quickly tags in Super Scott! Scott in the ring and stomps on Hades! CC: That's his best move too. OA: Scott lifts Hades and whips him into a turnbuckle! Hades staggers out... HUGE LARIAT!! Scott with a quick cover! One! Two! Hades kicks out! CC: Way too early for that. OA: Scott lifts Hades and tags in Coles again. Coles grabs Hades and snap mare's him... KICK TO THE BACK OF THE NECK!! Coles lifts Hades and sets him up... NUTCRACKER!! NO!! Hades landed well enough to avoid it... AND TAKES COLES DOWN WITH A LARIAT OF HIS OWN!! CC: WHOA!! Hades just spat at Super Scott!! OA: Scott's trying to go after Hades, but Cartwright is in his way! Ensassarol gets into the ring and stomps on Coles. Hades and Mack whips Coles to the ropes... DOUBLE HOTSHOT!!! Ensassarol lifts Coles as Hades leaves the ring... There was no tag! CC: Who cares? It's not like they couldn't have made that tag anyway. OA: That's not the point. Ensassarol has Coles in a rear waistlock... GERMAN SUPLEX!! Mack rolls and stands, still hanging on to Coles... ANOTHER GERMAN SUPLEX!!... Mack hangs on and rolls to his feet again... THIRD GERMAN SUPLEX, THIS TIME WITH A BRIDGE!! One! Two! Coles kicks out!! CC: Did you see the form on that last German? Perfect arch, everything. OA: Yeah I saw it. I guess it's obvious now, nothing wrong with that neck. CC: Doesn't look that way does it? We should ask Spector. OA: We will when he gets out of the doctor's care. CC: HA! OA: Mack lifts Coles again and sets him up... PITTSBURGH BACK BREAKER!! A cover!! One! Two! Coles kicks out!! CC: These covers may not be successful, but they're forcing Coles to expend some more energy. OA: Good observation Cordell. It makes me wonder though.. If Coles had tried to cover Ensassarol, you would have scoffed at him for trying a cover so early. CC: Not true. OA: Right. Ensassarol stands, lifts Coles and tags in Hades. Hades in, and Mack holds Coles for him... Punch to the ribs by Hades! Hades scoops Coles up over his shoulder... RUNNING POWERSLAM!! Hades stands and tags in Mack. Ensassarol goes to the top rope... SUPERFLY SPLASH!!! Mack covers!! One!! Two!! Coles kicks out!! CC: That was fairly close. Coles needs to turn things around quick, or Super Cool will be former tag team champions. OA: Mack lifts Coles... SMALL PACKAGE BY JOHNNY COLES!! ONE!! TWO!! Hades breaks it up!! CC: Now THAT was close! OA: And Super Scott is after Hades! And again, Geoff Cartwright steps in and blocks Scott's way. CC: At last, a referee who can do his job! OA: Hades stays in the ring while Cartwright is clearing Super Scott out, and he and Mack have Coles set up... DOUBLE DDT!! Hades covers!! Cartwright turns and slides in for the count! ONE!! TWO!! Coles kicks out!! CC: They're getting closer. OA: Hades lifts Coles and tags in Mack again... Mack and Hades are making quick tags, looking great as a team here so far... Mack whips Coles into the ropes... SPINNING LEG LARIAT!!! DUCKED BY JOHNNY COLES!! CC: OOH, Mack landed hard on his side! He over rotated because he made no contact, and paid for it! OA: Coles is on his knees and crawling towards Super Scott... HADES IN AND DRIVES AN ELBOW TO THE BAK OF COLES' HEAD!! Super Scott is in the ring again!! He's after Hades and this time Cartwright isn't in position to stop him!! Super slides out of the ring and meets Hades!!... AND WE HAVE A PIER SIX BRAWL RIGHT IN FRONT OF US!! CC: These two are both big, strong guys. It's hard to tell who's getting the better of this exchange. OA: Hades!! Super Scott!! Back and forth!! In the ring, Coles and Mack are both up... Side headlock takedown by Mack! Head scissors out of it by Coles! Mack spins and rolls up Coles!! ONE!! TWO!! Bridge out by Coles... Rotates into a backslide!! ONE!! TWO!! Mack rolls back out of it... SUNSET FLIP!! ONE!! TWO!! Coles kicks out and rolls up on top of Mack!! ONE!! TWO!! Mack kicks out, and both men jump to their feet! [POP!!!!!!] CC: Hades and Super Scott are still trading right in front of us! OA: Hades tries for a clothesline, but Super ducks and pushes Hades into the ringpost!! Super Scott grabs Hades and scoops him up... HOT SHOT ON THE GUARDRAIL!!! CC: That was uncalled for!! OA: All's fair... Coles and Mack are struggling against the ropes... Super Scott is on the apron and tags himself in! Mack doesn't know it yet though... He whips Coles into the ropes... Coles slides out of the ring. Mack looks down at Coles and then turns... RIGHT INTO A BIG BOOT FROM SUPER SCOTT!! Scott lifts Mack and sets him up... JACK KNIFE POWERBOMB!! Scott covers!! ONE!! TWO!! Mack kicks out! CC: There's still life in him! OA: Coles is back on the apron and tags in. Coles grabs Mack and sets him up... KNEEBUSTER SUPLEX!! Mack clutches at his knee as Coles stands and then grabs the now sore leg. Coles wrenches the leg, and then lifts Mack. Coles grabs the leg again... DRAGONSCREW... INTO THE COUP DE GRACE!!! CC: Mack better do something quick!! OA: Mack is screaming as Coles torques his knee in the kneebar!! Mack loooks ready to give it up... HADES BREAKS IT UP!! CC: Good thing for him he got back in in time. Mack looked ready to call it a night. OA: Anyone would in that move. CC: Not me. OA: Right. Super Scott is in the ring as Hades tosses Coles out of it! mack is out of the ring on the other side, still clutching at his knee. Super Scott grabs Hades... LOW BLOW BY HADES!! Cartwright scolds him, but Hades obviously doesn't care for the referee's opinion. He turns back to Scott... SCOTT LUNGES, BUT HADES MOVES AND REFEREE CARTWRIGHT GETS DRIVEN TO THE MAT BY SUPER SCOTT!! Hades grabs Scott and sets him up... CC: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?!? OA: That masked man who has tormented Hades and put his girl in the hospital is in the ring with a chair!! Hades senses something and turns... THE MASKED MAN SWINGS!!!.... "CRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!" HADES DUCKS AND SUPER SCOTT EATS CHAIR!! CC: The masked man can't believe it! OA: Hades kicks him... WIDOWMAKER!!! [HUGE POP!!!] OA: Cartwright is stirring!! All Hades has to do is cover Scott and we have new World Tag Team Champions!! CC: But he's hesitating! OA: Hades keeps looking back and forth at the masked man and at Scott. I can hear duelling unmask and pin him chants in the Mayhem Arena right now. The crowd seems as torn as Hades is! CC: What a dilemna! OA: Hades... IS GOING FOR THE MASK!! [BIG TIME POP!!!!] CC: We're going to find out who this guy is!! OA: Hades is pulling at that mask, loosening the ties... It's almost off... [THE CROWD ERUPTS!!] "CCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" OA: OH MY GAWD!! THERE'S STEVE SPECTOR!!! SPECTOR JUST ABOUT TOOK HADES' HEAD OFF WITH THE STEEL CHAIR THAT MASKED MAN DROPPED!!! CC: What the hell is going on? He should be at a hospital or something!! OA: Mack is in the ring behind Spector!! Spector turns... [Spector turns and shoots Mack the meanest look you've ever seen] OA: Mack stumbles back after seeing the look on Spector's face.. MACK IS TANGLED IN THE ROPES!!! He stumbled when Spector turned, and got himself caught!! Look at the look in Spector's eyes!! "KILL-HIM!!!! KILL-HIM!!!! KILL-HIM!!!!" "KILL-HIM!!!! KILL-HIM!!!! KILL-HIM!!!!" "KILL-HIM!!!! KILL-HIM!!!! KILL-HIM!!!!" CC: These people are animals!! OA: Spector winds up... "CCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" OH MY GAWD!! WHAT A SHOT!! "CCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" ANOTHER!!! "CCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" THREE TIMES!! AND SPECTOR AIN'T HOLDING BACK!! "CCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" Crowd: "F O U R!!!" "CCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" "F I V E!!!" "CCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" "S I X!!!" "CCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" "S E V E N!!!" "CCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" "E I G H T!!!" "CCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" "N I N E!!!" CC: Where's he going!? He's just leaving Mack to BLEED!? OA: Spector's digging under the ring apron! He's pulling something ... oh Lord. [BLOODTHIRSTY POP!!!!!] CC: Is that a friggin' LIGHT TUBE with EYES!? OA: Indeed it is! It's even got it's own hair at the top! CC: Or bottom. OA: Eeeewww. [Spector dives into the ring and twirls Tubey around in his hand as Mack struggles to simply lift his head. Spector winds up ... Steps into the target, and ... ] "KKKKKKKKKKSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" "T E N!!!" CC: That sick bastard!! HE SHATTERED THAT LIGHT TUBE ACROSS MACK'S HEAD!! OA: Mack Ensassarol is out cold, and bleeding like a stuck pig!! His forehead is opened WIDE up!! [Spector unhooks Mack and holds him on his feet by the back of his hair, and now throws him face first to the mat.] CC: Where'd the masked guy go? OA:: He took off... Johnny Coles is in and rolls Scott onto Hades! Cartwright is coming to!! ONE!! TWO!! THREE!!!!! DING! DING! DING! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" CC: What a travesty!! OA: I think Hades and Mack got what they deserved! They attacked Spector earlier, and they just paid for it! CC: But those chair shots to Mack... They were vile, even by my standards! FRANCINE: Here are your winners ... And STILL IWF/WOW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS ... ["Name of the Game" by Crystal Method plays.] S U P E R C O O L ! ! ! OA: Coles helps Scott up, and they raise their arms... "CCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" OA: Spector AGAIN!! He just drilled Coles!!! "CCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" OA: And there's one for Super Scott!! Now Steve Spector stands triumphantly in the ring, that steel chair that has done so much damage raised high in the air! "SPEC-TOR!!!!! SPEC-TOR!!!!! SPEC-TOR!!!!!" "SPEC-TOR!!!!! SPEC-TOR!!!!! SPEC-TOR!!!!!" "SPEC-TOR!!!!! SPEC-TOR!!!!! SPEC-TOR!!!!!" OA: SPECTOR GETS HIS REVENGE ON EVERYONE!! SENDING A MESSAGE TO THE I-SLASH AT LARGE!! _DON'T_ CROSS ME!! [Spector leaves the ring a disaster as we ... ] [ ... fade into a cathedral. A majestic temple of worship. A chill crawls your spine as an unsettling, egyption rhythm beckons us slowly down a red carpeted aisle, dividing several columns of pews garnished with sporadically placed and disheveled guests. Some mumble incoherently. Some clasp their hands between their thighs and rock. Some kneel and pray.] "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God ... " [Cut to a stained glass window forming a composit of ... ah yes, a shirtless Matthew Reason, bearing the stigmata. Crimson tears beading down a foresaken complexion.] " ... and in the face of this company to join together these Egos and Icons in holy Matrimony, which is an honorable state, instituded of God, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his church ... " [We briskly transition to a pale, quivering hint of a muttering man, pulling his own filthy, matted hair across his dry, cracked lips and staring blankly at what we assume to be the next image. The stained glass depiction of Steve Spector kneeling before a wooden cross, a crown of thorns clinched, blood seeping through his coiled fingers.] " ... which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence and first miracle that he wrought in Cana of Galilee, and is commended of Saint Paul to be honorable among all men ... " [Another stained glass window, depicting Caleb Temple straddling a muscular black steed behind a curtain of fire. Skeletal hands escaping his flowing black tunic. A dizzying gyration of the camera shows another slab of stained glass imagery. Eric Travers nestled in his regal throne, nude concubines and immeasurable riches at his feet, and a grandiose gold shawl warming his shoulders.] " ... and therefore is not by any to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly ... and in the fear of God." [The cathedral suddenly grumbles. The camera jostles across several pretintious stone carvings of Trevor Storm, Maverick, Razor Ron Jeremy, Gunnar Gaines, and Super Scott as they shiver on their foundations. Those in attendance begin to moan and whimper.] "Into this holy estate these two entities present come now to be joined. If any man can show just cause, why they may be not lawfully joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter ... " [Cracks glide down more stained glass windows commemorating the auras of Paul Kiljoy hanging from a tree limb, offering a ripe red apple to a nude, wide hipped female ... Nate McMannis hovering over a burning village. Torn, scorched, and crimson wings protruding from his his shoulderblades ... the Last Supper, with Trey Porter in the chair of Judas Iscariot ... ] " ... forever hold his peace." [We delve into the pulpit. A nameless man of the cloth cast his eyes upon two men, shoulder to shoulder. Only now, amidst the world crumbling around them, do they turn and meet. The father of the EWA: Rick Baptist, and the savior of the I-Slash: Brian Nelson, vent their eyes unto one another.] [GEETARS!!] "KKKKKKKKSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHH!!!!" [The image of Temple blasts inward. Slivers of twinkling glass spewing across the room.] "KKKKKKKKSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" [Reason's window follows. And then ... ] "___ KKKKKKKKSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! ___ " [Everything goes. A tempest of glass, stone, howling wind and angry fire, lightning, hail, and locusts roars through the temple. The political Goliath's remain firm.] # Kill me with a beat ["Do You Call My Name" by Ra kicks in, but fades quickly into the background as a message veils the screen.] This July ... ... prepare for hell on earth ... I-Slash Presents: EGOS & ICONS ... Heaven help us. [We fade back into the Mayhem Arena.] "BANG!!!" [THEY SHOOTIN'!] [Aw, made you look.] "Oh, I'm sorry. DID I BREAK YO' CONCENTRATION?" [The mood sours as "Misorlou" pollutes the air.] "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" [NELSON MUST DIE!!!!] OA: Incoming, folks! We're about to be hit by a weapon of mass corruption! CC: I bet you stayed up all night and went through ten cans of Mountain Dew coming up with that one. [Nelson must not be far. In fact, he's striding down the aisle. The crowd's animosity beads right off him. After all, he knows what they want better than they do. His hair is trimmed to mere stubble. A small, dark goatee on his chin. His hands remain tucked in the pockets of his jet black overcoat until he steps from the ring steps to the apron. He climbs in and removes the coat, handing it to Francine as he adjusts the tiny mic on his collar.] NELSON: I hate to be the bearer of bad news, so I'm gonna make this brief. Occassionally, even men of my stature are capable of stumbling, and I lost my balance on the last Graphic Nature. I promoted Nick Demola. I made him Vice-President of the I-Slash. I ... well I ... ... I made a mistake. [POP!!] OA: That's music to these fans! CC: I bet it's a toe-tapper for Rick Baptist too. NELSON: I haven't heard from Nick since then, and my keen senses lead to me to believe it has something to do with a delayed side project. This is all for the best though, ladies and gentlemen. In actuallity, there's only room for ONE badge in the I-Slash. So, no, I will NOT be replacing Demola with Rick Baptist or anyone else. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" NELSON: In fact, I am abolishing the vice-presidency altogether! The I-Slash will answer to _one man_ from this day forward, and you're staring straight at him! I-- BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM... [The arena is in silence.] CC: WHAT THE HELL?!?!?! OA: Did I just hear what I think I heard? BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM... [It sinks in. The arena goes absolutely bonkers.] OA: HE'S BACK!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!! HE'S COME BACK TO THE I-SLASH!! BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM!!! [Nelson is stonefaced like never before.] CC: BUT...HOW?...WHEN?...WHY?? BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM BUM... OA: You can't keep him out of the I-Sla... BLAM!! OA: WOAH!! BLAM BLAM!! KA-BOOM!!!!!!!! [Fireworks explode from the entranceway as the lyrics to "Date Rape" by Sublime begin. And he steps out of the locker room.] OA: THERE'S THE FRANCHISE, RAZOR RON JEREMY IS HERE AT "SET IT OFF!!!" [Razor Ron Jeremy takes a few dance steps from behind the curtain and takes a firm stance in the aisleway. He's wearing Bootie on his head, red earmuffs, swimming goggles, a gray Strong Bad T-shirt, brown fishing vest, a new pair of gray sweatpants, and white cross-trainer shoes. Sticking out from underneath Bootie is a fluffy mound of hair.] CC: These fans are out of their freakin' minds! OA: THE LEGEND HAS RETURNED!! You can't keep Razor Ron Jeremy away from the I-Slash. It runs through his blood. He's given his entire life to this organization and his presence tonight proves just that! He is dedicated to this sport and to his fans, and they're on their feet for the Franchise! And...and...and what an afro! CC: As if he didn't have enough hair. [The look on Nelson's face alone is worth the price of admission. RRJ glances around the arena and cracks a smile at the fans. It's almost touching to see him reunited with the fans. They begin the chant.] R-R-J... R-R-J... R-R-J!! R-R-J!! R-R-J!! R-R-J!! OA: I have to admit I'm getting a little choked up. CC: Wuss. OA: This is truly an emotional moment for the I-Slash. The fans were angered and disappointed when they received the news of RRJ's departure in March. And the circumstances were very ambiguous. Some say he was fired, some say he quit; nobody knew for sure and that infuriated some of Razor Ron's die-hard fans. [RRJ turns his focus back to Nelson, and lifts his mic. Back to business.] RAZOR RON JEREMY: Hi a**hole. [THAT ASSHOLE DESERVED IT POP!!!] RRJ: Where oh where shall I begin... NELSON: SECURI-- RRJ: SUMMER EXPLOSION 7!! Your very first pay-per-view extravaganza as president of the IWF/WOW...or the I-Slash...I WAS THE KING OF TOWN!! I was romping around the barn as the World Heavyweight Champion, basking in my second and most anticipated reign, having outlasted 29 other individuals in the Independence Day Rumble... [Yeah! Pointless nostalgia pop!] OA: He accomplished an incredible feat that night. RRJ: But meanwhile, back at the ranch, Brian Nelson went on a holy mission to create legends. Kiljoys. Reasons. Arcolas. Mavericks. Spurs, I mean Storms. McMannis,es. As the results of Summer Explosion 7 clearly demonstrated, you didn't need to hang onto your already established legends, your icons, your franchises of the IWF/WOW, no. It was out with the old, in with the slash. I became a casualty of your holy mission, simply because you had something to prove to yourself. You had to create all of your own legends, icons, and franchises _from scratch_. Literally starting with their naked bodies and building from there. OA: I can agree with that. Certainly an unforgettable moment when Paul Kiljoy streaked to the ring last August at Summer Explosion. RRJ: Literally crafting your workers the way you saw fit. Literally creating your own legends, icons, and franchises of the _I-SLASH_. I-Slash. So crisp. So cutting edge. So proactive, whatever that means. A necessary departure from the verbose and tongue-tying I-dubbya-ef-dubbyd-oh-blahblahbalhthtahtahthah. CC: Is he going anywhere with this? OA: Quiet, Crane. He always does. And Nelson is obviously listening. NELSON: I SAID SECURI- RRJ: I SAID HI A**HOLE!! [POP!!!] "R-R-J!!! R-R-J!!! R-R-J!!!" "R-R-J!!! R-R-J!!! R-R-J!!!" "R-R-J!!! R-R-J!!! R-R-J!!!" RRJ: I'll answer my own contradiction, thank you very much. I still see Cooper Concrete hard-hatting his way around here. And Hades harbinging. Eric Travers swooshing. "Vile" Vince Viper lisssssssssssssping. Brian Nelson has no problem whatsoever with veterans. But when it comes to the ol' Razor RJ, He's no longer Bootie-ing or jabber-jawing, or non-sequiter-ing or making an ass of himself-ing; instead it comes down to "He's pushing 45. He can't draw the same crowds. He can't physically keep up with today's competition. You simply can't teach an old fart new patterns of dissipation." And why do I get the negative spin? It's because _I'M A PAIN IN THE ASS!!_ NELSON: DAMN RIGHT YOU ARE! RRJ: THAT'S RIGHT! I'M GLAD WE SEE EYE-TO-EYE ON SOMETHING!! I uphold a firm reputation 'round these parts. I lead the damn locker room. Instead of saying "duh, yes Mr. Nelson" like some sycophantic veterans around here, I say "DUH, _NO A**HOLE_!!" CC: WOAH! RRJ: I do what I want, when I want, however way I choose, and I'm one stubborn son'bitch about it as you have learned. But I don't let YOU, of all people, tell me what state my career is in, because as far as I'm concerned, who the hell are you?? [GASP!] RRJ: Pardon me for being so curt, but I've outlasted 4 friggin' leaderships of this organization. Some great, some not so great; some Canadian, some drunk, and a little from columns A and B. All us vets, we've seen 'em all come and go. So go ahead. Drop the VP. I don't care! Hell, that means less red tape I have to endure to RING YOUR LITTLE NECK!! YOU UNDERSTAND ME?? NO BUREAUCRACY FOR R-R-J!! I CAN GO RIGHT TO THE SOURCE!! [POP!] OA: When that man is serious, run. CC: Yeah, go get him a bucket of raw cookie dough. RRJ: I'm a pain in the ass because I don't answer to you OR your holy mission, and I have no reason to fear your...your...khaki pants and drive-thru headset. I only answer to one person in this industry, and you wanna know who he is?? He knows more about the business than you ever will because he _makes_ this business. He signs your paycheck and mine. He will always know what's a success and what's a Josh Jordan. His name is...._THE FANS_!! [Nelson's ignited. His eyes billow with smoldering derision.] RRJ: But I'm not one to wallow. Why air out dirty laundry when you can throw it in your neighbors pool and go buy new clothes? I just feel like wrestling again. I'd like to push everything that transpired between you and me, onstage and off, to the back of my memory where senility may erase it one day. I'd much rather focus on the here and now. Set it Off. "Daterape" plays and it stuns the crap outta Brian Nelson. Razor Ron Jeremy makes his eyes billow with smeldering division, or whatever the hell your thesaurus says! If you look at this moment, Razor Ron Jeremy returning to the squared circle, with his new afro... [He takes Bootie off his head and his hair fills the sky. POP FOR THE 'FRO!!] RRJ: It all means nothing now, because at this very moment, I'm back... [POP!!] RRJ: I'm pissed off... [POP!!] RRJ: RON IS STILL GOD... [POP!!] RRJ: GOD IS _STILL_ RON... [HELL YEAH POP!!] RRJ: And you're an asshole. [POP YOUR PANTS!!] [Nelson scours a glare around the Mayhem Arena. Never before enflamed with so much revulsion for the masses that nourish his bank account than this very moment. His teeth grind. Lips pressed to his gums. Neck bursting with veins. Face roasting. RRJ turns his back, preparing to leave, until seven letters combine to paste his heels to the canvas.] NELSON: ___ F**K YOU ! ! ___ [He turns, eyes beading down Nelson's strict but trembling index finger.] OA: Oh my God, he can't say THAT! We're on national television! CC: We're on TELEVISION!? [Nelson sculpts a shuddering fist of wrath right in RRJ's face.] NELSON: You think I'm gonna stand here obediently and listen to you tell ME who whittles the world we're standing in the very pit of? I'm gonna verse YOU about this God forsaken business, you mentally decrepit little SH**! I'm gonna lug your fat ass across EIGHT SOUL WRENCHING _YEARS_ of an industry that robbed me of more than anything YOU have ever been able to GIVE! Where on God's earth was the "almighty franchise" of the IWF/WOW while Brian Nelson was tightening ropes just like the ones that separate you and I from THEM! [Nelson turns stomachs as he punts the bottom rope and identifies the crowd with an accusatory finger.] NELSON: Where was RAZOR RON JEREMY and his prop bag while BRIAN NELSON was toweling sweat off "Dreamlover" Trey Porter's back! While BRIAN NELSON was driving through the most hazardous areas of Anaheim in the dead of night because Super Scott refused to perform until a sixteen year old ring boy scored him a line with his _OWN_ HARD EARNED PAYCHECK!? While BRIAN NELSON played Rick Baptist's patsy when bloated egos came knocking down his door!? WHERE THE HELL _WERE YOU_, RON!? WHERE WAS THE GODDAMN _I-SLASH_!? [A step closer puts them nose to nose.] NELSON: You were pouring Cheetos straight into your ass and highlighting Simpson's episodes in the TV Guide! You had no fire for this business! YOUR passion was trying to figure out how to cram your fat ass into the box that lit up your life twenty four-seven! You were SCRATCHING your ass while I was BUSTING MINE! You think the blood, sweat, and tears only apply to you? You bled, perspired, and cried because of this business! I DID ALL THAT _FOR_ THIS BUSINESS! Oh, I'm not delusional. I was conquered by failure for seven long years. I've been chased out of territories! I've been told I wasn't wanted! I've slugged it out with the Owen McDonald's, the Rick Baptist's, the Super Scott's, Alan Camuto's, Chris Jurkschat's, Justin Arcola's, and Mark Cutter's of this world! My name's been wrung and dragged through the mud! But you know what? I _STILL_ felt the heat inside and I continued to feed logs to the fire! And now I am FINALLY where I belong! [Nelson steps back and repeatedly beats his chest.] NELSON: SO YOU TAKE A GOOD, HARD, GODDAMN LOOK THROUGH THOSE RIDICULOUS GOGGLES AT WHO'S STILL HERE! AT WHO'S ON _TOP_! I KNOW DAMN WELL WHO'S BLOOD COURSES THROUGH THE VEINS OF THE WRESTLING WORLD AND I KNOW A _LEECH_ TRYING TO SUCK IT DRY WHEN I SEE ONE! _THAT'S WHY_ YOU'RE NO LONGER WELCOME HERE! _THAT'S WHY_ RAZOR RON JEREMY IS EXPENDABLE! Take THAT into account the next time you, these fans, or ANYONE ELSE thinks Brian Nelson is at THEIR mercy! Now GET OUT! [Nelson points RRJ toward the aisle.] OA: Wow. CC: Hell, I'm convinced. No wonder RRJ runs through the blood of the I-Slash - he's a damn leech! NELSON: I SAID GET OUT!! [RRJ turns in the direction of Nelson's point, then turns back.] RRJ: You may be onto something there, Ms. Versace. CC: How dare he undermine our glorious president that way!! RRJ: After all, I did say that all I wanna do is wrestle again. And I certainly don't see Razor Ron Jeremy's name on the marquee, do you? "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" RRJ: Set it Off has no place for me. So I'll get out. Let me just turn around to face the entourage of security officers waiting for...Whoops, well I'll be! What on earth happened to the rentacops you called to whisk me away? NELSON: SECURITY!! _NOW!!_ RRJ: IF I'M EXPENDABLE...Mr. Nelson...HOW COME YOU CAN'T HAVE ME TAKEN AWAY?!?! OA: Yeah, good question! RRJ: I guess some things can't always be explained... ...just like our upcoming match on Graphic Nature. [WHAT?!?!] OA: OH MY GOD!! RRJ VS. NELSON ON GRAPHIC NATURE!! [Nelson lifts an eyebrow as he leans forward and scrubs his index finger around his ear canal. Did he hear that right? Did WE hear that right?] CC: But, but, but HOW? WHY IS RAZOR RON JEREMY ALLOWED TO DO THIS?! HE'S THE PRESIDENT OF THIS COMPANY, AND HE'S A DAMN WRESTLER!! THAT'S NOT RIGHT!! NELSON: What in the hell are you talking about? I'm not wrestling YOU, and YOU'RE not wrestling ANYONE! Who's behind this? RRJ: IS THAT REALLY GONNA HELP YOU PREPARE FOR THE THRASHING OF YOUR LIFETIME?? HUH?!? IS KNOWING EXACTLY _WHY_ YOUR FACE IS COMING INTO CONTACT WITH THE BOOTIE CALL EVEN SIGNIFICANT AT ALL?!? [Nelson is flabbergasted.] RRJ: (smiling) You've obviously encountered tons of hardship throughout your life that's always been beyond your control. You've been whipped around by this business all your life, Nelson. And as long as Razor Ron Jeremy is standing in an I/W ring...YOU ALWAYS WILL BE!! AND THERE AIN'T A DAMN THING YOU CAN DO TO STOP IT!! [POP!!] CC: Oh boy. RRJ: See ya later A**hole. ["Daterape" cues up and Razor Ron Jeremy exits the ring. He waves to his fans all the way back to the entranceway, then waves at Nelson before disappearing.] R-R-J... R-R-J... R-R-J!! R-R-J!! R-R-J!! R-R-J!! OA: I dunno what to say. [Nelson cranes his neck toward several different corners of the Mayhem Arena as every single fan in the building comes to their feet, aiming middle fingers straight at him, continuing to chant RRJ's name. Nelson finally leaves in disgust.] OA: What a night it's been, and we are just getting _started_, ladies and gentlemen! CC: Oh yeah...I've been waiting for this one for _months_ now! OA: It was at In Cold Blood where one of wrestling's biggest legends -- Caleb Temple -- shocked the world by making his I-Slash debut. His goal? Plain and simple: the EWA Heavyweight Championship! CC: Temple says that the belt is his property, and that he will take it back using whatever means necessary! And I gotta believe this man...this _monster_...will do just that! OA: Eric Travers has been a tremendous EWA Champion; he's held that belt for going on six months now; not even _Temple_ can say he accomplished that! But can he stand up to his greatest challenge to date? Tonight he squares off against the Root of All Evil; The Devil _Himself_! Caleb Temple! CC: Let's get this party started! o-----------------------------------------------o o-------< EWA HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP >--------o o-----------------------------------------------o "Epic" Eric Travers vs. Caleb Temple o-----------------------------------------------o o-----------------------------------------------o FRANCINE: The following contest, scheduled for one fall... ...is for the EWA...HEAVYWEIGHT..._CHAMPIONSHIP_!!! [P-TO-THE-IZZOP!] FRANCINE: Introducing first, the challenger... [The lights go down, and the arena falls into total darkness. As thunder erupts from the PA and lightning splits the black of the I-Sore, the chiming guitar intro to Slayer's "South of Heaven" blasts out. The death-rattle drums kick in, and then the guttural voice of Tom Araya.] # An unforseen future nestles somewhere in time # # Unsuspecting victims, no warning, no sign # FRANCINE: Hailing from Trinity, South Carolina...standing 6 feet, 4 inches tall and weighing in at 250 pounds...he is THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL ... C A L E B T E M P L E ! ! ! [A single white light shoots out from the entrance and spreads slowly.] # Judgement day, the second coming arrives... # # Before you see the light, you must DIEEEEE! # [A figure steps into the light, and is silhouetted as the crowd erupts. He begins to walk slowly towards the ring. The figure... is Caleb Temple. He is wearing black tights and boots, and his dark, stringy hair hangs in damp straggles over a pale face devoid of any emotion. His body is a mass of scar tissue and tattoos. Around his neck hangs a bleached white finger bone on a black bootlace. His boots have three silver buckles, and he is wearing fingerless black gloves. He stops forward and another figure emerges in the light. A woman, short and slight in stature, with dark red corkscrew curls. She is, of course, Veronica.] OA: Take a look at this demented madman! CC: He has competed against and destroyed the biggest names in our industry! Alex Martinez! Jeff Matthews! The list goes on! He has pioneered the art of extreme warfare! And he has his sights set on one single goal here tonight: to demolish and destroy the man holding the belt that he claims is his! [Caleb Temple stands in the ring, staring at the aisle and watches as James Vandenbush makes his way to ringside. Vandenbush is wearing his trademark black tuxedo, with gold cummerbund and gold bow tie. Vandenbush makes a move towards the steps, but than takes a look at Caleb Temple and decides to stay on the floor.] OA: James Vandenbush doesn't want to get into the ring with Temple from the looks of it, and I can't say I blame him. CC: He reflects the feeling of the entire Travers camp. They all fear Caleb Temple. OA: I... hold on, I'm being handed something here... CC: What is it? OA: This is insane... Ladies and gentlemen, I have been instructed to inform you that the large structure around the entranceway is sponsored tonight by The Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce, and by Ellis Don Construction. I knew Nelson didn't pay for that thing out of his own pocket, or the company's for that matter. CC: You mean to tell me that that thing is here for Travers' entrance? What'd Nelson do? Put a second mortgage on the Mayhem Arena? OA: And you called his entrance exaggerated before. CC: It was... There isn't a word for this. JAMES VANDENBUSH: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! Welcome to the Mayhem Arena, here in beautiful Toronto, Ontario!! [POP!!] JAMES VANDENBUSH: Welcome to SET IT OFF!! [POP!!] JAMES VANDENBUSH: And welcome to tonight's MAIN EVENT!!! [HEYUGE POP!!!] JAMES VANDENBUSH: The following contest, is scheduled for one fall and it is for the EWA HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WORLD!!! [BLOW THAT ROOF OFF!!] JAMES VANDENBUSH: This bout is brought to you by your UNdisputed, UNdefeated, KING OF BEEEEEEERS, BUDWEISER!!! [The lights in the arena fade to complete darkness and the crowd erupts in a loud pop as sounds of lightning and thunder emanate from the sound system. On the large video screens, a horizon is shown with dark clouds above on large body of water, lightning flashing in a breathtaking view of an electrical storm.] CC: What the hell is THAT!?!? JAMES VANDENBUSH: Accompanied to the ring by the intoxicating Tricia Lane... From Toronto, Ontario... He stands six feet, two inches tall, and weighs in at two hundred and sixty-seven pounds... A man recognized the world over as the greatest IWF/WOW Heavyweight Champion of ALL TIME!!... He is the most talented... The best looking, and most charismatic superstar in the history of professional wrestling!! He is a THREE TIME former I SLASH HEAVYWEIGHT... CHAMPION!!!... I give you the ONE... The ONLY ... THE LEGENDARY GOD OF THE I SLASH... THE E... W... A... HEAVYWEIGHT... CHAMPION OF THE WOORRRRRLLLLDDD!!!... "E P I C" E R I C T R A V E R S ! ! ! [The sounds stop, and only the murmurs of the crowd are audible. Then, angelic harmonies are heard as the video screen is now showing a view above the clouds, the brilliant sun in the background as the picture moves quickly from back to front. Finally, as the picture becomes all sun, "Sad But True" from Metallica's S&M album begins to blast through the sound system. The video screen begins showing the more traditional pictures of Eric Travers and Tricia Lane.] CC: Is the man ever actually going to enter the damn arena, or are we going to watch a freakin movie!? [As if on cue, a section of the screen in the middle parts. Gold lights shine on the opening and a platform makes it's way through carrying Tricia Lane and Eric Travers, and the crowd reacts loudly. Lane stands in front of Travers, smiling with her hands on her hips. Travers is standing with his arms crossed in front of him, a slight smirk on his face as he surveys the crowd. Tricia Lane is wearing a tight fitting gold sequined dress, and gold heels. Her auburn hair is stylishly tied up. Travers is wearing his gold wrestling gear, consisting of gold trunks with "Do the Dew" across the back, gold Nike wrestling boots, gold knee pads with the Oakley O on them and gold elbow pads with the Maxim Magazine logo on the tips. Travers has dark blond hair, no facial hair, and no distinguishing marks on his body. Travers is also wearing a pair of Platinum Oakley C Wires with Gold lenses, and he has the EWA Heavyweight Title around his waist. The platform reaches a part of the structure and begins to descend down a shaft. The camera isolates on Travers and Lane's decent, and in all four corners of the screen appear Travers' endorsers. In the top left corner is Oakley's logo, with the words "Half Art. Half Science." and a reference to www.oakley.com . In the top right is the Mountain Dew logo with the Do the Dew logo, and www.mountaindew.com . In the bottom left is the Nike Swoosh, with www.nike.com/canada . And in the bottom right is the Maxim logo, of course with www.maximonline.com accompanying.] OA: This is unbelievable! CC: This is nuts! OA: What on Earth can be going through the mind of Caleb Temple as he watches this? CC: I figure he's thinking of eighteen different ways to shove that structure up Travers' ass. OA: I wouldn't doubt it... And with that said [With enthusiasm] Tonight, Eric Travers is brought to you by Oakley, Half Art, Half Science! By Nike Canada who encourage you to ... JUST DO IT! By Mountain Dew! _Do the Dew_. And by Maxim Magazine, The Best Thing To Happen To Men, Since WOMEN! [The platform reaches the stage, and Tricia Lane makes her way down the ramp and Travers follows, stopping every so often to point out to the fans that Lane is shapely, and all his. Lane climbs the steps, and is followed by Travers. Travers holds the ropes open for Lane, and then climbs in himself. Travers heads for the far corner, climbs to the second rope and raises his arms high in the air, eliciting a very loud cheer from the crowd. Travers removes his shirt and throws it into the crowd, then jumps down and walks over to Lane. Travers faces the main camera and wraps his arm around Lane's shoulder, pulling her in close and she puts her right arm across his abdomen. Lane then puts her head on Travers chest and Travers raises his left arm as some gold pyrotechnics explode behind them. The lights fade back on, and Travers turns, removes his shades, and looks directly at Caleb Temple. No words are exchanged, just a cold glare from both parties.] DING! DING! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> OA: We've been waiting for this one for a long time, and it's going to happen right here, right now! CC: What a tremendous tale of the tape this is! Both men about the same height, same weight...Travers a three-time IWF/WOW Champion, with an extensive background in amateur wrestling and power grappling. Temple an undefeated EWA Champion, he has an extensive background in _insanity_! OA: Travers is focused on revenge and to prove that he truly is the greatest EWA champion ever. Temple _is_ his ultimate test in doing so. Beating Temple would also elevate Travers to a household name throughout the world. [SUDDEN POP!] OA: AND HERE WE GO! TEMPLE CHARGES ACROSS THE RING AND ATTACKS TRAVERS! TRAVERS FIGHTING BACK! THE TWO COMBATANTS TRADING BRUTAL LEFTS AND RIGHTS! CC: We've got a slugfest early on, and I don't think Eric Travers wants to go there! This is Temple's kind of a match! OA: TEMPLE WITH A THRUST TO THE THROAT! Travers stunned! Temple with a double-leg pickup...what is _this_? CC: BIG SWING! OA: Temple immediately going to the unorthodox! Round and round they go! All the blood rushing to Travers' head! "UUUUUUUHHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" CC: JESUS! OA: TEMPLE SLINGS TRAVERS HEAD-FIRST INTO THE MIDDLE TURNBUCKLE! _ALREADY_ I'M WINCING! CC: Caleb Temple is not even going to let Travers _imagine_ what he might do! OA: Temple dragging Travers up by his hair...setting him up...Irish whip to the far side...HIGH KNEE DUCKED BY THE EPIC ONE! Temple spins around...TRAVERS SNATCHES HIM IN A WAISTLOCK! "BOOM!!!" [POP!] OA: BELLY-TO-BELLY THROW! And this is what Travers must do! Keep it grounded! Pound away on Temple until there's nothing left! CC: But does Travers have what it takes to empty Temple's reserves? I don't think anyone _living_ does! OA: Travers pressing his advantage now...arm wringer...into a top wristlock...Temple looking for leverage, but Travers has the hold cinched in masterfully...Temple somersaults through the pressure...kips up to his feet... "UUUUUUUHHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: BUT NEARLY GETS HIS _HEAD_ TAKEN OFF BY A SHORT-ARM CLOTHESLINE! HERE'S THE FIRST COVER! One!! NOT EVEN TWO! CC: _Way_ to early to be going for a pin on a man of Temple's stature! OA: Travers with an Irish whip to the ropes...Temple blocks a hip toss! Shot to the gut by Temple! Temple plants his leg over Travers' head...BACKFLIP AND AN ESCAPE BY TEMPLE! Kick to the midsection! "CRACK!!!" OA: HIGH FLIPPING DROPKICK TO THE FACE BY TEMPLE!!! CC: I love this! Neither man is trying to feel the other one out! They're both going for the knockout shots right away! This is going to be a _war_! OA: Temple to the apron...oh no...TEMPLE CLIMBING THE TURNBUCKLES! CC: WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS! OA: TEMPLE PERCHED! HE'S READY! TRAVERS IS STUMBLING TO HIS FEET! CC: HE'S GOT NO IDEA WHAT'S ABOUT TO HIT HIM!!! OA: TEMPLE FLIES!!! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "BOOM!!!" "UUUUUUUHHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: CHRIST _ALMIGHTY_! A BLOCKBUSTER FROM THE TOP ROPE!!! TEMPLE COVERS; THIS COULD BE ALL! One!! NO! KICK-OUT! CC: There's absolutely no way to prepare for what the Root of All Evil will throw at you! Mark my words; Travers is a dead man walking! OA: Travers rolling to the outside of the ring! Temple has to watch the count; he cannot win the belt on a count-out! CC: Temple's been a marquee wrestler in this industry since the mid-1990s, Ambrose! He doesn't need your coaching! OA: Temple stepping out to the apron; Travers is not safe from this lunatic _anywhere_! TEMPLE SPRINTING DOWN THE APRON!!! LOOK OUT! CANNONBALL!!! "KKKKKEEEEEEE-RRRRAAAAAAACCCCKKKKKK!!!" "UUUUUUUHHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: BY GOD, TEMPLE WENT FOR IT ALL AND _PAID_ FOR IT!!! CC: REPLAY! I'M _BEGGING_ YOU! REPLAY! [The replay comes up in a split-screen. Temple tries to deliver a cannonball splash to Travers from the apron. Travers, seemingly playing possum, darts his arms up at Temple in mid-flight and uses his momentum to hurl the sick freak spine-first into the steel stairs!] OA: Temple is _writhing_ in agony on the cold hard concrete of the Mayhem Arena! CC: And as much as it may not seem like it right now, Travers is in a world of trouble! This is not his style of match; and Temple can and will push him to his breaking point now matter how much he hurts himself in the process! [Travers picks up Temple and rolls him underneath the bottom rope.] OA: For once I have to agree with you, Cordell. Travers is rattled; you can see it in his eyes. He's off his game plan, and you said it, he's fighting _Temple's_ match right now! [Travers gets in the ring and looks down at Temple, appearing somewhat unsure of himself.] CC: See, look at this! He's hesitating! He can't pull the trigger! OA: Travers picking up the legs of Temple...uh-oh...LOOK AT THIS! [POP!] CC: SHARPSHOOTER! OA: ERIC TRAVERS HAS THE SHARPSHOOTER APPLIED! The game plan now - obviously - is to pick apart that weakened back of Temple! CC: He'll never get a submission out of the Devil Himself, but at least he'll do enough damage to wear him down! OA: TEMPLE IS IN A WORLD OF HURT, BUT HE MAY NOT CARE! HE'S SHOWING NO SIGNS OF RESISTANCE TO THIS HOLD WHATSOVER! CC: What does Travers have to do in order to beat this man? His only hope is to knock him out! OA: TEMPLE GETS TO THE ROPES, AND TRAVERS HAS TO BREAK THE HOLD! [And he does so...] CC: Travers _desparately_ needs to find a way to combat this sadistic lunatic! He's fighting for more than the EWA Title; he's fighting for _survival_! OA: Travers setting up Temple...Irish whip...TEMPLE HANDSPRINGS INTO THE ROPES! [POP!] OA: BUT GETS CAUGHT IN A WAISTLOCK! "BOOM!!!" OA: GERMAN SUPLEX!!! NO BRIDGE, ALL IMPACT! TRAVERS HOLDING ONTO THE WAISTLOCK...ROLLING THROUGH TO THIS STOMACH...DRAGGING TEMPLE UP TO HIS FEET... "BOOM!!!" OA: A SECOND GERMAN SUPLEX!!! TRAVERS ROLLS THROUGH AGAIN! "BOOM!!!" OA: THE THIRD GERMAN!!! THE EPIC RIDE!!! TRAVERS BRIDGES INTO A PIN! ONE!! TWO!! [2.5] [3?] NO!!! CC: THE EPIC RIDE DIDN'T KEEP TEMPLE DOWN!!! TRAVERS CAN'T BELIEVE IT! OA: ERIC TRAVERS DELIVERED A BARRAGE OF THREE LETHAL GERMAN SUPLEXES IN SUCCESSION, AND TEMPLE GOT HIS SHOULDER UP! CC: IT'S TEMPLE'S NIGHT! I CAN FEEL IT! HE'S GOING TO TAKE BACK WHAT'S RIGHTFULLY HIS! OA: Travers knows he has to pull the trigger now! [KA-POP!] OA: AND HERE IT COMES! TRAVERS WITH A FRONT FACELOCK! SIGNALING FOR THE EPIC ENDING! IF ANYTHING CAN PUT CALEB TEMPLE DOWN, IT'LL BE THIS! THE SUPL -- NO! TEMPLE BLOCKED IT! TEMPLE LIFTING _TRAVERS_ UP IN THE SUPLEX POSITION... <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> CC: WATCH _THIS_! "UUUUUUUHHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: TEMPLE JUST DROPPED ERIC TRAVERS STRAIGHT SOUTH! RIBS-FIRST ACROSS THAT TOP ROPE! CC: Knocked the wind right out of him! OA: TRAVERS GASPING FOR WHATEVER BREATHS HE CAN MANAGE, TRYING TO HANG ON AND STAY ON THE APRON! CC: You don't want to be hurt with Caleb Temple! OA: LOOK OUT, HERE COMES TEMPLE!!! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "KKKKKKWWWWWAA-TTTTTHHHHHHUUUUUUDDDDDDD!!!!!" "UUUUUUUHHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" CC: JE-_SUS_!!! [Temple charges the ropes and leaps to deliver his infamous leaping bulldog from the apron to the floor. At the last moment, Travers spins around and backdrops Temple as he clears the top rope. Temple's momentum sends him absolutely sailing through the air and slamming into the security railing spine-first.] "HOLY-SHIT!!! HOLY-SHIT!!! HOLY-SHIT!!!" CC: THAT SAYS IT ALL, AMBROSE! OA: I can't _believe_ the sickening crack with which Temple's back hit that railing! CC: AND HE'S _STILL MOVING_! CAN ANYTHING AT ALL _STOP_ THIS MAN?!? OA: CALEB TEMPLE IS TAKING ALL THIS PUNISHMENT WITH WANTON _LUST_; I _SWEAR_ IT! CC: This is _scary_, Ambrose! And you know me; I don't scare easily! OA: Look at Travers! He can't believe Temple still has his faculties about him! Travers coming to the floor! CC: This is a _huge_ mistake! Just let the man get counted out! [The cameraman gets very close to the action and we can hear Temple's labored breathing through all the phlegm and bile choking his insides. Travers shoves the crewman out of the way.] OA: TRAVERS WHIPPING TRAVERS IN! NO! REVERSED!!! CC: LOOK OUT!!! "KKKEEEEEEEEEE-RRRRAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSHHHHH!!!" "UUUUUUUHHHHHHWWWWWAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" CC: OH MY _GOD_! OA: CALEB TEMPLE REVERSED THE IRISH WHIP! TRAVERS WENT SAILING OVER THE TIMEKEEPER'S TABLE AND STRAIGHT INTO A PILE OF TWISTED MANGLED METAL! STEEL CHAIRS! SECTIONS OF GUARDRAIL! CC: AND THE EWA TITLE, AMBROSE! OA: EVERYTHING THAT WASN'T NAILED DOWN HAS JUST BEEN ANNIHILATED! WE'VE GOT MEN DOWN OUT HERE! SOMEONE CALL THE MEDICS! "I-SLASH!!! I-SLASH!!! I-SLASH!!!" "I-SLASH!!! I-SLASH!!! I-SLASH!!!" "I-SLASH!!! I-SLASH!!! I-SLASH!!!" [Even some scattered chants of "TEM-PLE" can be heard.] OA: This crowd has become a frenzied mob! CC: They want _more_! And Temple's about to _give_ it to them! OA: Temple dragging Travers out of the path of wreckage that's just been left behind! My God, this is sheer _misery_! I can't think of any other way to describe this EWA Championship Match! [Temple positions Travers near the guardrail and lifts...] Male Fans: "OOOOOHHHHHHH!!!!" OA: TRAVERS JUST GOT _CROTCHED_ ON THE GUARDRAIL! AND NOW TEMPLE IS...CLIMBING UP TO THE APRON!!! CC: I have no idea what this is gonna be, but I'll wager anything it won't be pleasant to watch! OA: TEMPLE WITH A SADISTIC LOOK IN HIS EYES! BEARING DOWN ON TRAVERS! HE FLIES!!! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "UUUUUUHHHHHHWWWWWWAAAAAAHHHHH!!!" OA: JESUS!!! TEMPLE WITH A DIVING LARIAT FROM THE APRON! _BOTH_ MEN WENT SAILING INTO THE FIRST ROW! "WE-WANT-BLOOD!!! WE-WANT-BLOOD!!! WE-WANT-BLOOD!!!" "WE-WANT-BLOOD!!! WE-WANT-BLOOD!!! WE-WANT-BLOOD!!!" "WE-WANT-BLOOD!!! WE-WANT-BLOOD!!! WE-WANT-BLOOD!!!" CC: I can't believe the frenzy we're seeing here! _Everyone's_ getting soaked up in it! OA: This cannot be anything like what Travers imagined! The heat of battle will _consume_ him if it goes on much longer! CC: And you have to believe Temple is _counting_ on that! OA: Temple emerging from the audience, dragging the EWA Champion in tow! CC: Travers will never forget this night as long as he lives! OA: Temple rolling Travers into the ring! Travers is completely out of it, ladies and gentlemen! Caleb Temple is a rabid animal! [Temple ascends the turnbuckle once again, to the delight of the crowd.] CC: AND NOW HE'S GOING FOR THE JUGULAR, AMBROSE! OA: TEMPLE IS PERCHED ON THE TOP ROPE! MY GOD, THIS WILL BE THE DEATH KNELL! HE LEAPS!!! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "BOOM!!!" "UUUUUUHHHHHHWWWWWWAAAAAAHHHHH!!!" OA: AN ELBOW DROP FROM THE _STRATOSPHERE_!!! THE COVER! WILL WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION? ONE!!! TWO!!! [2.5] [MASSIVE POP!!!] OA: NO!!! TRAVERS -- SOMEHOW -- HE GOT A SHOULDER UP!!! THIS WAR _CONTINUES_!!! CC: Travers is being tested tonight like I've never seen him be tested in his entire _career_! This _is_ a war! OA: Temple dragging Travers up...shoves him into the corner! "CRACK!!!" "WHOOO!!!" OA: KNIFE EDGE CHOP! "CRACK!!!" "WHOOO!!!" OA: ANOTHER ONE! Temple whips Travers to the far side! CHARGES! [POP!] OA: TRAVERS CATCHES HIM WITH A REVERSE ELBOW! CC: Desperation move! OA: Temple is dazed...BUT HE CHARGES AGAIN! [POP!] OA: AND GETS _CAUGHT_! TRAVERS WITH AN ARM AND A LEG LOCKED!!! "BOOM!!!" OA: FISHERMAN'S BUSTER!!! MY GOD, WHAT A HIGH-IMPACT MOVE! TRAVERS SLOWLY INTO THE COVER! ONE!!! TWO!!! NO! TEMPLE BREAKS FREE! CC: No matter what he does, Travers just can't seem to put this man away! He's starting to realize it too! OA: Travers trying to pull out the one big final blow that will finally keep Travers down! AND HERE IT COMES! "BOOM!!!!" OA: BLUE THUNDER BOMB!!! TEMPLE GOT _SPIKED_! THE COVER! ONE!!! TWO!!! [2.5] [2.999] THR-NO!!! TEMPLE GETS A SHOULDER UP! _DAMN_, WAS THAT EVER CLOSE! CC: Close but no cigar! Travers knows he doesn't have what it takes! OA: The hell you say! The EWA Champion looks like he's been playing possum all along! "BOOM!!!" OA: T-BONE SUPLEX!!! TEMPLE _BOUNCED_ ACROSS THE RING! AND I THINK HE'S GONNA DO IT, CORDELL! TRAVERS IS GOING FOR THE KILL!TEMPLE IS _COMPLETELY_ SUBDUED! CC: I...I... OA: YEAH, RIGHT! YOU DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT THAT, DO YA SMART GUY? LOOK OUT! LOOK OUT!!! SUPLEX... SLINGSHOT... <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "BOOM!!!" [FINSIHER POP!] OA: EPIC ENDING!!! EPIC ENDING!!! TRAVERS IS GONNA DO IT, BY GOD!!! IT'S ALL OVER! THE COVER! ONE!!! TWO!!! [2.5] [2.999] [LIGHTS OUT!] OA: HEY! CC: WHAT THE HELL? OA: WE'VE LOST POWER! THE THREE WAS COMING DOWN, BUT THE LIGHTS IN THE ARENA HAVE SHUT OFF! [The crowd begins to buzz as a very small but noticeable orange crucifix appears in the ring, hovering above the ropes.] CC: Owen...OWEN! DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE? OA: There's some bright orange light shining through the darkness... CC: Oh man...oh MAN! If this is what I think it is... [The crucifix runs a gamut of shades. Red. Purple. Yellow.] CC: I don't believe my eyes! OA: Who is it, Cordell? CC: Just wait! Just you WAIT! You're gonna FREAK, I tell ya! [LIGHTS UP!] [ROOF-SHAKING OVATION!] OA: Oh my _GOD_! DEAR GOD ALMIGHTY...IT'S _HIM_!!! CC: IT'S REALLY HIM! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!! IT'S... OA: IT'S... <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> OA and CC: IT'S... _____ H E L L S H O C K _____!!!!! OA: HELLSHOCK IS HERE IN THE MAYHEM ARENA!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE MY EYES!!! CC: HE'S A FORMER EWA CHAMPION! HE'S ONE OF CALEB TEMPLE'S OLDEST ALLIES! OA: THE REFEREE IS DOWN IN THE RING! THE ONE AND ONLY _HELLSHOCK_...IS STANDING OVER A LIFELESS GEOFF CARTWRIGHT AND STARING A HOLE RIGHT THROUGH ERIC TRAVERS!!! CC: _TRAVERS_ CAN'T EVEN BELIEVE WHAT HE'S SEEING, AND I CAN'T BLAME HIM! OA: HELLSHOCK IS BECKONING TO TRAVERS! _DARING_ HIM TO ATTACK! [Eric comes to his feet. He starts walking toward Hellshock when he's stopped dead in his tracks.] "RRRRRRRRR-IIIIIIIIIPPPPPPP!!!" OA: WHAT THE HELL? SOMETHING JUST POPPED OUT FROM UNDERNEATH THE RING! CC: NOT SOMETHING, AMBROSE! SOME-_ONE_!!! LOOK AT THIS!!! [A hand, attached to a very muscular forearm, has grabbed Travers by the ankle. Travers makes the mistake of taking his eye off of Hellshock to look at it...] "UUUUUHHHHHWWWWWWAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: TRAVERS JUST GOT DECAPITATED BY A HELLSHOCK CLOTHESLINE!!! BUT WHO IS THAT UNDER THE RING? [The other arm comes through the canvas and a man whose long, damp brown hair covers his entire complexion pushes himself up. The man, waist deep in the ring, snaps his head back, whipping the hair out of his face.] CC: HOLY GOD IN HEAVEN!!! SAY IT AIN'T SO!!! OA: IS THAT?!? CC: IT IS!!! IT'S... _____ T H E D A R K D E S T R O Y E R _____!!!!! "HOLY-SHIT!!! HOLY-SHIT!!! HOLY-SHIT!!!" "HOLY-SHIT!!! HOLY-SHIT!!! HOLY-SHIT!!!" "HOLY-SHIT!!! HOLY-SHIT!!! HOLY-SHIT!!!" OA: FIRST IT WAS HELLSHOCK!!! NOW THE FIVE-TIME FORMER EWA CHAMPION AND THE BADDEST SON OF A BITCH ON THE PLANET! THE DARK DESTROYER IS HERE IN THE MAYHEM ARENA!!! CC: DO YOU REALIZE WHAT THIS MEANS, AMBROSE?!? HELLSHOCK! DARK D! CALEB TEMPLE! IT'S THE CARTEL!!! THE CARTEL HAS BEEN REBORN!!! [Dark D climbs onto the ring. He and Shock bring Temple to his feet and the three of them surround Travers' body. Dark D and Shock pull Travers to his knees and restrain his arms. Temple pulls from inside his boot...] OA: A FORK! CALEB TEMPLE HAS A FORK! CC: THIS IS FIXING TO GET EVEN MORE BRUTAL THAN WE IMAGINED!!! OA: WAIT A MINUTE! [POP!! POP!!] CC: What's _he_ doing here?!? OA: STEVE SPECTOR! STEVE SPECTOR IS SPRINTING TO THE RING! HE'S GOING AFTER TEMPLE! HE'S GOING AFTER HELLSHOCK! HE'S GOING AFTER DARK DESTROYER! STEVE SPECTOR IS TAKING ON THE ENTIRE CARTEL! CC: _This_ won't last long! And I can't wait to see what happens when it stops! [The numbers game catches up with Spector as he gets nailed from behind by Hellshock. Hellshock throws him to Dark Destroyer.] OA: DARK D WITH A BOOT TO SPECTOR! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "BOOM!!!" [MARQUEE MOVE POP!] CC: THERE IT IS! FLATLINER DDT! SPECTOR'S _DONE FOR_! OA: HELLSHOCK AND DARK DESTROYER LAYING THE BOOTS INTO STEVE SPECTOR!!! CALEB TEMPLE -- THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL -- DIRECTING TRAFFIC! Male Fans: "OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" OA: WAIT A MINUTE!!! ERIC TRAVERS FROM OUT OF NOWHERE...LOW BLOW TO TEMPLE!!! HE'S GOING AFTER HELLSHOCK AND DARK D! DARK D CUTS HIM OFF! TRAVERS TRADING BLOWS WITH THE FIVE-TIME EWA CHAMPION! HELLSHOCK STILL STOMPING A MUDHOLE ON SPECTOR! CC: LISTEN TO THIS CROWD, AMBROSE! OA: THIS IS A HISTORIC MOMENT HAPPENING RIGHT IN FRONT OF OUR EYES! SPECTOR GETS KICKED OUT OF THE RING! HELLSHOCK AFTER HIM! DARK DESTROYER FOLLOWING SUIT! TRAVERS IS...LETTING HIM GO! SPECTOR'S BEING ASSAULTED ON THE OUTSIDE OF THE RING...AND THE REFEREE IS COMING TO! CC: WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN? OA: WE'VE STILL GOT A MATCH GOING ON IS WHAT IT MEANS! TRAVERS TURNING TOWARDS TEMPLE... "WWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHOOOOOOSH!!!!!!!" [GASP!!!] OA: OH MY GOD!!! FIREBALL!!! CALEB TEMPLE JUST THREW FIRE INTO THE FACE OF THE EWA CHAMPION!!! DING! DING! DING! OA: AND GEOFF CARTWRIGHT SAW IT!!! CC: TEMPLE'S BEEN DISQUALIFIED! OA: CALEB TEMPLE HAS GOTTEN HIMSELF DISQUALIFIED, BUT I DON'T THINK HE CARES! [Travers is writhing on the canvas, his hands clutching at his face. Temple fails to care. He produces that fork again, and mounts Travers... ] OA: NO! COME ON, THIS IS _ENOUGH_! "UUUUUUUHHHHHHHWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!" OA: MY GOD, TEMPLE IS STABBING TRAVERS IN THE FACE WITH THAT FORK!!! SOMEONE STOP THIS..._NOW_! CC: You want to try and stop it, Ambrose? Who in their right mind is going to cross Caleb Friggin' _Temple_? [Temple continues driving the fork into Travers' face (and hands which are covering it) over and over until he's just covered in his own blood.] OA: THIS IS _SICKENING_! [Dark D and Hellshock roll Spector into the ring. D pulls him to his knees by the hair and tosses Shock a lighter.] OA: OH NO! WHAT IS _THIS_ NOW? [Hellshock adjusts the glove on his right hand and touches the flame to it.] CC: Oh God...don't tell me! "WHOOOOOOSH!!!" OA: THAT GLOVE IS ON FIRE! HELLSHOCK HAS LIT HIS OWN HAND ON FIRE! CC: WATCH THIS! "UUUUUUUHHHHHHHWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!" OA: HELLSHOCK HAS A CLAW HOLD APPLIED WITH THAT FLAMING HAND! CC: THAT'S THE HELLFIRE CLAWHOLD, AMBROSE! OA: STEVE SPECTOR IS _WRITHING_ IN AGONY! [Temple positions Travers on the mat...] OA: AND NOW CALEB TEMPLE HAS THE LAST RITES APPLIED ON ERIC TRAVERS!!! DARK DESTROYER IS STOMPING TRAVERS IN THE HEAD! [Finally, Hellshock releases the hold and Spector falls flat on his face into a pool of his own blood. Temple releases his old, leaving Travers in his own crimson puddle.] OA: I have never seen an assault in all my career to equal this brutality! The sheer _inhumanity_ of it all! CC: The Cartel have made their impact right here at Set it Off, and let all the other wrestlers in this company beware! [Dark D brings Temple the EWA Heavyweight Title. Temple stares emptily at his reflection and then drops the belt on Travers' back. Temple, Dark D, Hellshock, and Veronica exit the ring to the back.] FRANCINE: Here is your winner as a result of a disqualification ... And STILL EWA HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION ... [POP!!!!] "E P I C" E R I C T R A V E R S ! ! ! OA: ERIC TRAVERS HAS WON THIS BATTLE FOR THE EWA CHAMPIONSHIP! BUT I THINK WE HAVE JUST SEEN THE _BEGINNING_ OF THE WAR ABOUT TO BE WAGED ON THE I-SLASH BATTLEGROUND! AND CAN YOU BELIEVE IT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN? WE STILL HAVE A MAIN EVENT COMING UP! WHATEVER YOU DO, _DON'T_ GO AWAY!!! [Backstage] [Paul Kiljoy opens the door to a locker room, slamming it against the wall. He walks in with purpose, his face showing determination, period. The World championship rests on his shoulder. His eyes meet his target] [Matthew Reason sits in the room with his eyes locked on the champion.] [POP!] PAUL KILJOY: Matthew. REASON: Paul. [Reason looks at Paul, staring. He motions for him to come over. Paul pulls a chair up next to him and sits] PAUL KILJOY: I meant what I said on Trashtalk. These six others don't deserve a thing, Matthew. Our track record stands on its own, and we _should_ be standing on our own tonight. [shrugs] Instead, we're standing together. [pause] That said, I know we haven't talked for weeks now, and ... REASON: How did you like [BLEEP]ing my wife Paul? [The fans let out an OOOOOOOOOOH! for that one] PAUL KILJOY: [sigh] Matthew, let's not start this. I mean, that was the _deal_, yo. It was based on sharing, and if you ask me, sharing the title rose your game man. I'm tempted to say you wouldn't be here tonight, Matthew... [pause] you wouldn't be here tonight without me. REASON: You're right Paul, you are the reason I'm here but not because you rose my game but because you own what I want. I was all for sharing Paul, I had no problems handing you my wife, that's why tonight, I won't feel bad when you hand me your title. _Seven_ months....you've held that title, _seven_ competitors.._SEVEN_ bodies laying motionless... covered in blood sweat and tears... you think you had problems before? I've been your friend Paul, but it's obvious that you didn't care about that. [Kiljoy stands up with purpose] PAUL KILJOY: I've cared as much as I am able, Matthew. Ask Sam if I cared! REASON: You [BLEEP]ed her ... PAUL KILJOY: [interrupting] I _did_ [BLEEP] her, Matthew. Lemme tell you what man. [he bends down and gets eye to eye] I [BLEEP]ed your wife hard, 'friend'. You wanna tell me you're going to take my title? I'll tell _you_ something. Straight from Sam's mouth. [Kiljoy smiles] PAUL KILJOY: I get her off better, baby. [POP! POP! POP!] PAUL KILJOY: She screamed for me, Matthew. And I have no doubt that ... REASON: ... no doubt that the title on your shoulder was quietly resting on my groin and testicles - furthermore, it felt my power the way Sam felt yours. [MASSIVE POP!] [The two men are silent] PAUL KILJOY: [BLEEP] [Kiljoy shakes his head and stands straight, perplexed as he looks at his title. Reasonstands as well, grinning] PAUL KILJOY: Alright, Matthew. We have stuff on each other. [raises eyebrow] Now then - let's _use_ it. Let's put the 'cruel' in Cruel Intentions. [Paul extends a hand.] REASON: Ok.. [Reason extends his hand.] REASON: But, be careful Paul. I don't have cruel intentions, I have evil ones - and to be quite honest, eight men, ladders, tables, and chairs... some of those evil intentions are focused on you. I saw what you did to Rick, Paul - I was there. I watched you maul him... and I hope he gets the chance to watch me maul you. [Kiljoy grabs the hand and shakes it] KILJOY: He will. Tonight you scream _with_ me, Matthew. Tomorrow, you scream _for_ me. [Kiljoy turns to leave] REASON: Hey Paul... just remember, when you hand over that title tonight, don't kiss it goodbye... it'll have the same taste Sam's mouth had. [Reason smirks as Kiljoy leaves, disgusted] OA: How do I express the mood in the arena after all we've seen tonight? After what JUST occurred? CC: I know what you mean. We've seen "Tigerheart" Rally Jackson become the very first IWF/WOW Spotlight Champion. The return of Razor Ron Jeremy. The firing of Nick Demola. We've seen Mack Ensassarol pull the rug out from beneath Steve Spector. OA: We've seen Spector subsequently lay Ensassarol, Hades, and Super Cool to waste. CC: But he went to the well one too many times tonight. OA: The Mayhem Arena is STILL shivering following the arrival of former EWA Heavyweight Champion, Hellshock and the former franchise of that organization, the Dark Destroyer. The attempt at returning the EWA Heavyweight Championship to Caleb Temple backfired, no pun intended, but the message was signed, sealed, and delivered. We're still anticipating news on the condition of Eric Travers and Steve Spector. CC: I can't believe after all that's gone down tonight, we've been waiting until this very moment to say that history is about to be made. OA: Cordell nailed it, folks. We are mere moments shy of the quadruple team TLC match for the IWF/WOW World Championship. A match that has tested alliances, strengthened friendships, and raised some very dubious questions. CC: Well there are eight particular men looking for answers that wish you'd shut the hell up right now. Put Francine to work man! OA: Point taken. Francine, take us down in history! o--------< IWF/WOW WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP >--------o o----------------------------------------------o o----------------< TLC MATCH >-----------------o Kiljoy & Reason McMannis & Maverick vs. Gaines & DTP Storm & Arcola o----------------------------------------------o o----------------------------------------------o FRANCINE: The following contest is a FOUR TEAM TLC MATCH ... ["MOTHER OF GOD THIS IS _IT_" POP!!!!] FRANCINE: ... for the ___ IWF/WOW CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WORLD ! ! ! ___ "T-L-C ! ! ! ! ! T-L-C ! ! ! ! !" "T-L-C ! ! ! ! ! T-L-C ! ! ! ! !" "T-L-C ! ! ! ! ! T-L-C ! ! ! ! !" "T-L-C ! ! ! ! ! T-L-C ! ! ! ! !" OA: TORONTO, ONTARIO IS _READY_, CORDELL! TEN THOUSAND OF THE ROWDIEST, LOUDEST, MOST DEDICATED FANS IN THE WORLD ARE STANDING ON THEIR CHAIRS! CC: Drunken idiots. Settle down! This aint church! [We're treated to a rare and candid shot behind the production. Cheryl and Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines along with "Dreamlover" Trey Porter stand near the gorilla position ironing out last minute strategies.] OA: Gunnar Gaines and DTP making sure they're on the same page, leaving nothing to chance when they hit this ring, standing a mere twenty feet beneath an ascent to the throne! FRANCINE: Introducing first ... # DREAMLOVER # # COME BUSTIN' IN # [Hit those octives, Mariah!] [POP!! POP!! POP!!] FRANCINE: Hailing from Memphis, Tennessee ... standing 6 foot 3 and weighing 240 pounds ... he is the Universal Heartthrob, the Self-Made Legend, and a former multi-time Heavyweight Champion of the World, here is the "ICON of Wrestling" ... "D R E A M L O V E R" T R E Y P O R T E R ! ! ! [The crowd erupts into a huge chorus of cheers as DTP jumps out from behind the curtain. As soon as he appears the cheers become deafening. Behind DTP several fireworks shootoff and then the lights quickly go dim, except for one spotlight on DTP. Heart shaped lazer lights with DTP across the middle line the floor. DTP begins to walk down the aisle doing a little fargo strutting on the way. Halfway down the aisle DTP lets out a big, "OOH, LA, LA". When he finally enters the ring, a giant heart with "Dreamlover" Trey Porter lowers from the ceiling and lights up behind him. DTP begins to pose and does one last strut.] ******** ******** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** ** **** **** "THE ICON" **** **** **** **** "D R E A M L O V E R" **** **** **** **** T R E Y **** **** **** **** P O R T E R **** **** **** **** **** ******* *** * [After the hoopla ends, DTP removes his gold jacket with diamond studds, which spell out "DREAMLOVER" across the back. DTP is wearing white tights, with a gold hearts all over them. On the front he has "Dreamlover spelled out in the middle of a heart and on the back he has ICON. His kneepads are are also white with several small golden hearts on them. His boots are also gold.] "D-T-P ! ! ! ! ! D-T-P ! ! ! ! !" "D-T-P ! ! ! ! ! D-T-P ! ! ! ! !" "D-T-P ! ! ! ! ! D-T-P ! ! ! ! !" [DTP stands in his corner jawing with the crowd as his music ends. The announcers at ringside can barely hear themselves talk as the chant of DTP echos throughout the arena.] "D-T-P ! ! ! ! ! D-T-P ! ! ! ! !" "D-T-P ! ! ! ! ! D-T-P ! ! ! ! !" "D-T-P ! ! ! ! ! D-T-P ! ! ! ! !" [The reception draws a sincere, out of character smirk from Porter's lips as he mouths a subdued "Good Gawd" to himself.] OA: So many times we've seen Trey Porter sprawled across the canvas! So many times we've seen this man, this _icon_, left flat on his face! We've seen him rolled out of a ring such as this on a gurney! We've seen _years_ shaved from his career because he refuses to exert less than one hundred percent! But more often than all that, fans, more often than we've seen him fall, we've seen him _stand_, and no less than triumphantly! This man, this legendary figure, deserves no less than the standing ovation he's receiving this very night! CC: Owen, I've known DTP as both a performer and human being since I was a pup in this business and I can honestly say I admired him as _both_. He's one of the few and true class acts, and he's got more flash than a Kodak convention. OA: Imagine Porter on top again, Cordell. Imagine "DREAMLOVER" TREY PORTER as the IWF/WOW WORLD CHAMPION! CC: He does have a knack for turning fantasy into reality. [Darkness.] [A man on the I-Sore with a Grizzly Grin takes aim at us all with his B.S. gun, lights all flashing.] OA: AND HERE COMES HIS TAG TEAM PARTNER! The man Brian Nelson tried to DENY his rightful shot at the title here tonight! The man DTP selflessly and unknowingly sacrificed the vice-presidency to see that didn't happen! ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## FRANCINE: His partner ... [Pause.] ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## [CROWD POP!] ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## [HYUUUUUGE CROWD POP!] [It registers. You'd know that riff anywhere. George Thorogood. Delaware Destroyers. "Bad to the Bone".] [Quick-cut shots of the man delivering Grizzly Slams to various opponents from different angles.] [The drums kick in, the bass comes in and, oh yes, some tasty slide guitar ... ] FRANCINE: Accompanied by his wife Cheryl ... from Fairbanks, Alaska ... he stands 6 feet 5 inches tall and weighs 357 pounds ... He _IS_ "The Baddest Thang Running" ... G U N N A R "T H E G R I Z Z L Y" G A I N E S ! ! ! [HUGE POP!] ## On the day I was born .... ## ## They all gathered round ... ## [And Gunnar Gaines himself enters through the portal. He is wearing an unbuttoned red flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off, a black "Equal Opportunity Enforcer" shirt (also without sleeves) under that, and cutoff jeans over thermals ... black work boots with yellow laces ... and slightly curly dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail ... ] ## They gazed at the wide window ... ## At the joy they had found ... [And yes. He's got two of his trademark B.S. detectors. One strapped across each shoulder ... ] ## The head nurse spoke up ... ## Said "leave this one alone" ... [He stops ... stands ... takes in the crowd adulation with his trademark -- a squinting, smirking Grizzly Grin -- on his bearded face ... ] ## She could tell right away ... ## That I was bad to the bone ... [And he heads for the ring. The crowd chants along with the words ... ] ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## ## Bad to the bone ... ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## ## Bad to the bone ... ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## ## B-b-b-b-b-bad ... ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## ## B-b-b-b-b-bad ... ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## ## B-b-b-b-b-bad ... ## DAH DA-DA-DA DAH! ## ## Bad to the bone .... [As the second verse begins ... ] ## I broke a thousand hearts ... ## Before I met you ... [... the song fades. By now, Gaines has arrived in the ring. He ascends a corner, boasting with a thumb to his own chest. Then he ascends another, taking aim at the sky with one of his B.S. detectors.] ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## [The crowd eats it up -- and fires back.] ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## ## BLOOOOOOP! ## [Gunnar flashes a thumb's up -- and a Grizzly Grin. He hops down from his corner perch, shadow boxing a bit.] "GUN-NAR ! ! ! ! ! GUN-NAR ! ! ! ! !" "GUN-NAR ! ! ! ! ! GUN-NAR ! ! ! ! !" "GUN-NAR ! ! ! ! ! GUN-NAR ! ! ! ! !" "GUN-NAR ! ! ! ! ! GUN-NAR ! ! ! ! !" OA: The Baddest Thang Runnin' is not without his supporters, and there's a lot of base in that chorus! Wherever the Grizz goes, he always brings a hunk of that brew chuggin', high testosterone, and dare I say chauvanist demographic with him. CC: Guys respect a fat dude with a hot wife. OA: Which reminds me that I'd be remiss if I didn't point out, looking at these two polar opposites, this has to go down as one of the _oddest_ pairings in wrestling history, yet something about it seems right. CC: Well it's an alliance built on mutual respect and benfits. Those are two icons standing shoulder to shoulder, Ambrose. It's like seeing Muhammed Ali and Joe Frazier side by side. Babe Ruth and Mickey Mantle. Michael Jordan and Dr. J. Superman and the Incredible Hulk, man! Set your VCR's, people. Staple your eyelids open. This is a once in a lifetime occurance. OA: It's often debated by many who the best was among all the tandems Cordell Crane just mentioned. The debate between "Dreamlover" Trey Porter and Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines is no different. Luckily, neither one need be concerned about that now. Tonight they work together for the honor of possibly finding that out at Egos & Icons. [The opening drum and bass beat of Prong's "Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck" bring the asses out of the seats and the bodies flooding towards the entranceway.] [POP!!! POP!!! POP!!!] OA: But in all due respect, neither Porter or Gaines can ever attain the status that THIS MAN has! The PRIDE OF THE I-SLASH is on his way! FRANCINE: Coming down the aisle, hailing from Rochester, New York ... standing 6 feet, 3 inches tall and weighing in at 252 pounds... J U S T I N A R C O L A ! ! ! # Nothing breeds more contempt for this world than memories now formed # # Every moment a new seed is grown to no reason the trouble unfolds # # For the trials of today I'm no jury really don't care how you feel # # The pleasant notion of miraculous change drifts into multiple jeers # [Suddenly, a floodlight comes up on the entranceway as the rest of the arena dims to blackness and the crowd EXPLODES! From behind the curtain steps Justin Arcola, clad in loose-fitting black jeans, leather studded belt, and black combat boots. He stands at the center of the entranceway with his head titlted downward and his arms out at his sides, casting an eerie shadow in the white floodlight as the guitars crash throughout the arena.] # YOU WANT THE GOOD LIFE # # YOU BREAK YOUR BACK # # YOU SNAP YOUR FINGERS # # WE SNAP YOUR NECK!!! # [Arcola thrusts his head and arms in the air, casting his face in the light for the first time. A thin amount of facial hair accentuates his long crewcut. Arcola snaps his arms back down and marches towards the ring. The fans in attendance give Arcola a respectful standing ovation, but he is undettered. He climbs up onto the apron and turns back to the crowd before stepping in through the ropes. Arcola stands in the center of the ring as the spotlight continues to illuminate his body. He thrusts his arms high in the air again and a sea of flashbulbs erupts! Simultaneously, the lights come back up to their full level. Arcola paces near the corner, waiting for the bell to ring.] "AR-CO-LA ! ! ! ! ! AR-CO-LA ! ! ! ! !" "AR-CO-LA ! ! ! ! ! AR-CO-LA ! ! ! ! !" "AR-CO-LA ! ! ! ! ! AR-CO-LA ! ! ! ! !" "AR-CO-LA ! ! ! ! ! AR-CO-LA ! ! ! ! !" [Justin points the chant out to Gunnar and Porter, just to remind them where they are. Neither seem terribly impressed.] CC: These people can sing for him all night long, Ambrose, but they'll lose their voices before it does any good. They haven't absorbed the fact that Arcola has one role in this match and one role _only_. Per orders of Brian Nelson, his duty is to deliver the IWF/WOW World Title to Trevor Storm on a platter, or the next dish placed in his lap will have his head on it. OA: It would seem that Justin Arcola has no chance of leaving this ring as a two-time world champion, but it wouldn't be the first time the Syracuse All-American defied authority. If he gets within distance of that belt, I say take it! Nelson's not going to fire his world champion! CC: Arcola wouldn't be _his_ champion, now would he? FRANCINE: His partner ... [The crowds buzzin'. Settling overall silence. Nothing. Just the voices of your neighbor.] [Whiiiiiiiiiiiiish....(a steady breeze over the PA.)....Whiiiiiiiiiish.] OA: Is that wind blowing? CC: Or breaking. Dude, did you just beef? [LIGHTS OUT!!!] [Whiiiiiiiiiiiiish....whiiiiiiiiiiish. Darkness. Whiiiiiiiiiiiish.] OA: It is PITCH BLACK in this arena and QUITE unsettling, folks! CC: And that can only mean one thing. [Voices, soft female voices begin to whisper over the PA. Whisper through the rustling of a cold night's breeze. The voices overlap, chaotically chanting the same thing....They break, continue, whisper, yell, _SCREAM!_....they stop.] OA: What we're they saying? CC: What was who saying? OA: Those voices! CC: I didn't hear any voices, man. You're just as loopy as Reason. [A single voice whispers over the PA.] V/O: [whispering].....champion. [The wind continues, but the voices seemingly fade into the darkness wence they came. Still the people wait. The lights out.] _PLEASE ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE MYSELF!!!_ ..........CRRRRRRRRRRASH!........... ..........KERRRRRRR-POOW!........... [Pyro erupts on stage with two thundrous explosions. Immediately the lights once again burn brightly.] #I'm a man of wealth and taste# #I've been around for a long, long year# #Stole many a man's soul and faith# [Guns n' Roses' cover "Sympathy for the Devil" _YANKS_ the crowd to their feet. Boos, jeers, profanity, gestures....signs....you names it. They hate this man.] #And I was 'round when Jesus Christ# #Had his moment of doubt and pain# #Made damn sure that Pilate# #Washed his hands and sealed his fate# #Pleased to meet you# #Hope you guess my name# #But what's puzzling you# #Is the nature of my game# [And there _HE_ is. Decked out in some loose brown khakis, light brown colored boots, and sporting a bare chest. _HIS_ hair falling about his shoulders....a calm, collected smile already formed on his lips.] FRANCINE: Hailing from Greensboro, North Carolina ... Weighing in at 248 pounds and standing 6 feet 6 inches tall ... [He stops at the top of the ramp....waiting for his proper introduction.] T R E V O R S T O R M ! ! ! [That's all it takes....it's like a switch. Suddenly the smiles gone, the arrogance is gone. Storm's eyes are like stone. His expression empty...focused.] #Pleased to meet you# #Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah# #But what's confusing you# #Is just the nature of my game# #Just as every cop is a criminal# #And all the sinners saints# #As heads is tails# #Just call me Lucifer# #'Cause I'm in need of some restraint# [Trevor Storm pulls himself into the ring, springing to his corner. He tilts his neck to the right and left loosening up. His eyes burning with rage.....and _hatred._] OA: What a presence. CC: Imagine how pronounced it would be with the IWF/WOW World Championship clinging to his waist. This could be Trevor Storm's time, Owen. This could be the last mile on a road he began paving over a year ago at Christmas Madness. The night Trevor Storm engraved his name in I-Slash history. OA: Storm has had only one previous, straight up shot at the IWF/WOW World Championship, and that's when he faced "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock at last year's End of the World in a sixty-minute iron man match. Storm came up shy, but he proved to the world over the course of that feud and on that night that he was no flash in the pan. That he was a legitimate threat. CC: And he's more dangerous than ever, Ambrose. # !!! ______________________ KICK IT! ______________________ !!! # OA: THERE GOES THE NEIGHBORHOOD! [BAM! BAM! BAM! The crowd explodes as three successive, red firecrackers shoot high into the Mayhem Arena ceiling. The pyro explodes in the air, spelling out the word "TRIFECTA" in the sky to a big pop.] CC: Do these guys get new pyro every week?! OA: I'm not sure about that Cordell, but they are damn sure some of the most talented men this industry has ever seen! [The two men enter the arena, and the roof damn near comes off of the place. "Suicidal" Nate McMannis is wearing black leather pants and a leather vest, his freshly shaven head beginning to sprout some hair. He carries in his right hand a baseball bat, which he twirls around like a baton, but not gayly, on his way to the ring.] CC: Well that was gay. [To his left is Maverick. Maverick is wearing a pair of denim jeans and his leather jacket. His hair is pulled back into a pony tail and his boots have a new shine to them. He sports the new "I'll Take Your Best Shot" with the crosshairs T-Shirt. In his right hand is a Louisville Slugger, which he swings ala Barry Bonds. He looks over at Nate and they cross their bats in an X, smile, then slam the bats into the palms of their hands.] OA: This is show of unity, folks! Nate McMannis and Maverick are SHARING the spotlight as they make their way down the aisle, letting it be known that one man's success in the Trifecta is an accumulative accomplishment! The result of ALL their hard work, dedication, and loyalty! [The two men approach the ring, covered in the various instruments of destruction, walking with a swagger.] OA: Those two men are the odds on favorite to headline day one of Egos & Icons. So many accomplishments and accolades between them. So much determination and trust. CC: So much BULLJIVE! Now I EXPECT one of them to turn on the other. OA: It aint even like that. [Voiceover by a woman reporter.] CC: What the fuuuhhhh ... " A brutal heinous attack has been orchestrated " [A CAMERA CLICKING -- The I-Sore splashes on a shot of Billy Rock laying in a bath tub covered in blood. The shot remains on as the voiceover continues.] " The victim was left brutalized, bleeding severely and left for dead!" [A CAMERA CLICKING -- The shot changes to one of Justin Arcola laying motionless on top of a shattered windowshield, Arcola covered in blood.] OA: Two introductions remain, but I've never seen THIS before. " Details are sketchy... " [A CAMERA CLICKING -- The shot changes again, this time showing Geezer Gaines laying motionless in the ring.] "But police are on the lookout..." [A shot of Nate McMannis motionless, covered in a crimson mask laying next to a ladder and baseball bat.] "For a man in his late twenties, six foot six, with long black hair... police have this drawing... [A black and white drawing of a man that resembles... I-Slash's Matthew Reason.] "If you come across anyone that resembles this man, please... notify the police... or local sercurity... he clearly can be History's Next Derrange Mind..." CC: HE GOT A NEW INTRO! Haha! Reason aint EVEN playin' tonight! FRANCINE: About to make his way down the aisle ... ["SCHISM" by Tool hits as blood starts covering the drawing on the I-Sore.The blood runs off, the drawing has been replaced by the man it was drawn of, the face of Matthew Reason stares at you. The camera slowly fades into his eyes... zooming in and BLACK... ] FANCINE: Hailing from Toronto, Ontario, Canada ... standing 6 feet, 6 inches and weighing in at 269 pounds ... this is the I-Slash's "Resident Pyscho" and "History's Next Derranged Mind" M A T T H E W R E A S O N ! ! ! [Lazer white lights splash body outlines on the way to the ring, as out walks Matthew Reason. Reason wearing black pants, his hair soaken wet dripping down on his shoulders on on his chest. He walks out starring at the floor and slowly tilting his head to the left and then to the right. Reason slowly raises his head looking at the entrance and makes his way to the ring. Reason walks up the ring steps, walks to the middle of the ropes and steps over. He stands patiently waiting...] OA: Believe it or not, folks, there are a LOT of people surrounding that moniter backstage that want to see this man capture the title that has eluded him his entire career. Think of what you want of Matthew Reason, but he has stricken an intoxicating blend of fear and _respect_ into the hearts of a lot of I-Slash fans and wrestlers. CC: He's one of the reasons this company is on the level it's at today. People tune in just to see what this man is going to say. What he's going to do. How he's going to reacte. Like him or not, there millions of people tuning in tonight to see him capture the IWF/WOW World Championship, and I'm one of them. FRANCINE: And his partner ... # # # WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! # # # OA: Tag team partner or not, you better believe he's going to have to go through THIS MAN to see it happens! [An image of Paul Kiljoy spills onto the I Sore] PAUL KILJOY (V/O: Scream for me. ["Gave Up" by NIN & Marilyn Manson begins to play over the loudspeakers. Various shots of Kiljoy flashes through the I Sore, at times interrupted with a screaming woman, or a close-up of his face. The crowd rises in unison to their feet, stifled cries of both joy and anger fill the building] # Perfect little dream, the kind that hurts the most # # Forgot how it feels, well almost # # No one to blame, always the same # # Open my eyes, wake up in flames # # It took you to make me realize # # It took you to make me realize # # It took you to make me realize # # It took you to make me see the light # FRANCINE: ... from Boston, Massachusetts, standing six foot three inches and weighing two hundred, forty-four pounds ... he is the ___ IWF/WOW CHAMPION OF THE WORLD ___ "L E G A C Y" P A U L K I L J O Y ! ! ! # Covered in hope and vaseline # # Still cannot fix this broken machine # # Watching the hole it used to be mine # # Just watching it burn in my steady systematic decline # [BOOM! BOOM! S-S-S-SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!] [The bright fireworks fade to smoke. Slowly emerging from the curtains is 'Legacy' Paul Kiljoy. The World championship around his waist glimmers in the spotlight. His clothes look ragged, worn. He wears a ragged-looking 'Scream For Me' t-shirt. A quick zoom-in reveals a man with sleep-deprived eyes and greasy medium-length blond hair, and on his forehead, what looks to be the remains of crusty, dried blood from another day. Instead of moving toward the aisle to touch him, fans move away as Kiljoy stalks down the aisle] # Of the trust I will betray # # Give it to me I throw it away # # After everything I've done # # I hate myself for what I've become # [Kiljoy enters the ring and faces the referee, his expression a mix between carelessness and hate. He stares hard, as if in a dream that he cannot escape from. His head quickly turns to examine the audience, while a mix of praise and disdain follows his gaze. Slowly, the World championship is raised to his lips, and a small kiss delivered. The title is dropped. He awaits the sound of the bell like a caged dog waiting to strike] # I tried # # I gave up # # Throw it away # OA: Paul Kiljoy is the reigning IWF/WOW World Champion for six months straight, and he's GOT to be approaching the Christopher Stonebreaker mark. If he retains tonight he's going to SHATTER the standard set by the longest reigning champion in our history. CC: Well he's got seven others ready to start their own tally. OA: Gunnar Gaines is one of them. He was lured into a trap on Graphic Nature the last time we saw Paul Kiljoy. A scandal that saw Kiljoy prepared to leave the business, prepared to turn that very title over to Gunnar Gaines without a fight, but we should've known. We should've seen it coming! CC: And in all his years, so should've Gunnar Gaines. He's got no one to blame but himself. [An eagle's eye view of the ring hovers over eight reasons why this night will never be forgotten. McMannis and Maverick huddle in one corner, periodically looking over their shoulders in case of an ambush. Reason sits on his ass in the corner, Kiljoy resting on the top turnbuckle above him, casting a suspicious gaze down. Gaines and Porter converse with hands shielding their mouths, just in case they're dealing with any lip readers. In the final corner, Storm raises a finger toward the dangling title, then jabs himself in the chest, making eye contact with Arcola in case his job description wasn't made clear before.] OA: This is IT! This is what we've waited all night for! DING! DING! [MAIN EVENT POP!!!!!] OA: IT'S ON!! THE FUSE IS LIT!! GAINES AND PORTER _IMMEDIATELY_ HUNTING DOWN KILJOY AND REASON!! [Gunnar presses Kiljoy's face against the top rope and grinds him from post to post. Not far away, Porter blisters Reason's chest in the corner with a rapid fire sequence of knife edge chops.] CC: We've got action popping across the ring too, Ambrose! Trevor Storm and Maverick are reopening old wounds! Arcola and McMannis are hammering it out! OA: These eight men are bringing the streets into the Mayhem Arena! This is a down, dirty brawl! CC: GORILLA PRESS! MAVERICK HAS STORM NEARLY SEVEN FEET OFF THE GROUND! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "UUUUUUUWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" CC: AND CLEARS HIM FOR TAKE-OFF! OA: MY GOD, HE SERVED HIM OVER THE TOP! [A quick glance shows Trevor Storm face down on the cold, strict concrete. Maverick dusts his hands and stalks Arcola while he pins McMannis against the corner, shoveling knees into his abdomen. Mav whirls him around by the shoulder and halts his momentum with an inverted atomic drop. McMannis shapes up before Arcola can hit the mat and clips him.] OA: McMannis and Maverick already displaying the benefits of teamwork! Now look at this! Porter with a front facelock on Reason ... and he's using the ropes as stairs! [No, not the turnbuckles. The frickin' ropes. The versitile DTP steps from the second rope to the third, his back to the crowd, and now grasping two clumps of Reason's hair for balance. He lets go and sprinboards onto Reason's burly shoulders.] OA: HURRICA-- [DTP dangles upside down, legs twined around Reason's neck.] CC: REASON WON'T BUDGE! [He reaches back, pries Porter's legs apart, and tucks them into his arms.] OA: SLINGSHOT!! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "UUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" [Porter wrangles the top rope, but the momentum carries his legs over his head, resulting in an MAN-SIZED bump that cracks his back off the apron. Unable to land on his feet, his face breaks the ensuing fall.] CC: TWO MINUTES INTO THIS MATCH, AND DTP'S SPINE MAY BE SHATTERED! OA: REASON put him out before! He piledrove him on a steel cheer, aggrevating a very serious neck injury, and it's a testament to Porter's perseverance that he can even put one foot in front of the other today! There's no telling how much pain he's in! CC: Not like he'd speak up anyway. [In a nearby corner, Kiljoy is at the mercy of Gunnar Gaines, being driven to his knees by the piston attatched to Gunnar's right shoulder. Gaines glances over his shoulder and notices Reason with no dance partner. He turns his back on Kiljoy who immediately lashes out, letting Gunnar know he aint no side dish.] OA: LOW BLOW! KILJOY GOES DOWN UNDER! CC: Here comes Reason! [Who ropes Gunnar around the throat after a running start and drills the canvas with a particularly frightening DDT.] "UUUUWWWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" CC: DAAAAAYUMN!! I need a chiropracter after just WITNESSING that! OA: We've got a couple of handicap matches going on here! McMannis and Maverick with Arcola! Kiljoy and Reason with Gaines! [Which does not go unnoticed by the four men who happen to be in control. McMannis and Maverick bring Justin to his feet and latch onto both arms. Kiljoy and Reason, getting the hint, lift Gaines and emulate.] OA: GAINES AND ARCOLA ARE HEADING FOR A HEAD ON COLLISION! [Eh-EH!] CC: NO WAY IN HELL!! OA: GAINES AND ARCOLA _BOTH_ NOT COOPERATING!! [Gunnar blows the hair out of his face with his bottom lip. Arcola grits his teeth as his eyes lock with Gunnar's, and suddenly it's Kiljoy and McMannis, Maverick and Reason unable to stop the reversed momentum.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> [POP!! POP!!] OA: IT'S A FOUR VEHICLE PILE-UP!! [Maverick, Reason, McMannis, and Kiljoy all lay in various degrees of groggy despair.] OA: The power of Gunnar Gaines and stubborness of Justin Arcola just combined for catastrophic results! [The crowd intensifies as Gaines and Arcola stand nose to nose.] CC: They're face to face now, Ambrose! WHO BLINKS FIRST? Place your bets! OA: In one of the very rare moments in wrestling history, the standstill is speaking louder than action! Adrenaline flowing through these two, and the fans are CHARGED! I-- "BANG!!!!!" OA: GOD!! [Why is Arcola all wadded up at Gunnar's boots? Ask DTP. He's the one holding the dented chair.] OA: PORTER FROM BEHIND!! _MURDERING_ ARCOLA WITH A CHAIR!! CC: He should be charged with MANSLAUGHTER after that! OA: Now Gaines and Porter having a little talk. CC: Probably discussing how to dispose of the body! OA: They've agreed on something ... AND DTP'S HEADING TO THE TOP!! [Gunnar hoists Arcola onto his shoulders and stands at a reachable distance from the top turnbuckle. Porter measures him up ... but something snags his attention below ... ] CC: It's Trevor Storm! It's alive! IT'S ALIIIIIIVE! OA: He's inviting Porter to try it on HIM! Storm is DARING the legend to try and bring him down! CC: And check THIS out! Storm was apparently busy and we didn't even notice! There's a TABLE SET UP right behind him! [Playing it sharp, Porter aims his eyes back to Arcola as Gaines becomes impatient. It's gonna cost 'em.] OA: STORM'S ON THE APRON! PORTER TRYING TO FIGHT HIM OFF! [He crouches on the top turnbuckle, trading punches with Storm. Arcola, still on Gunnar's shoulders, grabs a chunk of hair and drills Gunnar in the forehead. Maverick and Reason come to their feet at the same time. Each hunches down and wrap their arms around Gunnar's tree trunk thighs.] OA: DOUBLE FLAPJACK ON GUNNAR!! ARCOLA'S ON HIS SHOULDERS!! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "UUUUUWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" [Gunnar is stungunned, giving Arcola nowhere to land but the concrete perimeter surrounding the ring.] CC: SCRAPE 'IM UP!! OA: MY GOD WHAT A FALL!!! SOMEONE CHECK ON THAT MAN!! [Storm has elevated himself to the outer second turnbuckle, still trading blows with Porter. Maverick deposits his two cents into the situation, stepping out to the apron and climbing the outer turnbuckle BEHIND DTP.] CC: Now we've got a triangle match on the turnbuckle! OA: I never thought I'd see THIS, but I think Maverick is HELPING Storm! He just hooked Porter's arms! DTP can't defend himself! CC: And Storm's not wasting the opportunity! He's clobbering him! [Storm places one palm between Porter's thighs and another just under his chin. Maverick releases his hold.] OA: STORM'S AIMING HIM TOWARD THE TABLE!!! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "CCCCCRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!" "TTTHHHUD!!!" [POP!!! POP!!!] OA: PORTER, SLAMMED FROM TEN FEET ABOVE STRAIGHT THROUGH IT!!! [Reason spots Storm admiring his art from the apron.] CC: WATCH OUT! "CLANG!!!!" "UUUUWWWWWWAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!" OA: REASON CLOTHESLINES STORM FROM BEHIND, PROPELLING HIM STRAIGHT INTO THE BARRICADE!! [Maverick, still crouched on the outer second turnbuckle, defies his own body.] CC: BIG M DIVES OVER THE TOP!! [POP!! POP!!] OA: AND HE BRINGS REASON DOWN!! Nothing pretty about THAT! He just tackled him to the canvas! CC: Kiljoy and McMannis are shaking out the cobwebs now! OA: McMannis heading to the outside! Bypassing the body of Arcola and going straight for the ladder pile! [POP!!! POP!!!] CC: He's about to carry this match to a new altitude! [Nate totes the ladder across his body toward the ring.] OA: Kiljoy's perched to strike though! DOES McMANNIS KNOW? [Kiljoy catapults himself straight into McMannis's path.] "KRANG!!!!" [POP!!! POP!!!] OA: McMANNIS USED THE LADDER AS A DEFLECTION!!! HE HURLED IT RIGHT INTO KILJOY'S LINE OF FIRE, CUTTING HIS WINGS RIGHT OFF!!! [Nate opens the jaws of the ladder and drags Kiljoy's body until it's sprawled inbetween. He clamps the contraption down.] CC: He's got Kiljoy immobalized! OA: And now he's heading to the apron! Whatever he's got in mind, it can't help Kiljoy's chances! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "KACHUNG!!!!!!" "THUD!!!!" "UUUUUUUWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: ___ ASAI SUICIDE SPLASH ! ! ! ___ RISKING IT ALL!! CC: McMANNIS MAY HAVE JUST BLEW HIS _OWN_ OPPORTUNITY AT BECOMING WORLD CHAMPION AGAIN!! He's in PAIN! OA: And there's plenty of it to go around without inflicting it upon yourself! [Back in the ring, Gaines pulls himself up using the ropes. Rather than capitalize on the fact that Maverick is picking Reason apart with bear-like swipes, he leaves the ring and raises the ring skirt.] OA: What's HE looking for? The tables, ladders, and chairs are in the aisle. CC: WOOD GRAIN! He needs to take the EDGE OFF! OA: But here comes Cheryl! She let Gunnar know she was going to be in his corner tonight because he NEEDED her there, and this is precisely why! [A heated argument develops. Cheryl takes Gunnar by the wrist, attempting to pry his thick fingers from the neck of the bottle. He shakes his head and saves himself the aggrevation.] OA: Cheryl wins this round! Gunnar's heading back into the ring! [He yanks Maverick carelessly off of Reason by the hair.] CC: Now the two biggest men in this brawl are face to face! [Gunnar lifts Maverick and rotates, lunging forward.] "BANG!!!" OA: SPINEBUSTER!! RIGHT ON THE CHAIR USED EARLIER BY TREY PORTER!! CC: Gunnar's the only man on his feet at the moment! Cheryl's nagging him to grab a ladder! [Gunnar climbs out confiscates the ladder lying between Kiljoy and McMannis.] "UUUUWWWWAAAAHHHH!!!" [He jams the end of it once to McMannis's abdomen, and then to Kiljoy's skull before sending it skidding into the ring.] OA: It could be over right here! Gunnar Gaines just may become world champion tonight! [Gaines props the ladder up and splits the legs. He's a mere twenty feet from destiny.] CC: He's waisting no movement! Taking that ladder TWO rungs at a time! [The crowd's excitement flourishes with each step up.] OA: HE'S ALMOST THERE! HE'S ALMOST THE-- "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" CC: NO! MATTHEW REASON HAS HIM BY THE ANKLE! [Gunnar can't progress. Reason uses his jeans to cling to as he climbs up behind him.] OA: Reason's climbing the SAME SIDE as Gunnar! He's GOTTA be crazy! [He locks his hands around Gunnar's waist and German suplexes him, but Gunnar doesn't release the ladder.] CC: OH MY GOOOOOOD!! "BOOOOOM!!!!" "KRRRAAAAAANNNNNGGGGG!!!!!" OA: THE LADDER COMES DOWN WITH 'EM!!! RIGHT ON TOP!! [Arcola staggers around the outside and comes across the body of Trey Porter. He elevates him by the hair and rolls him casually into the ring.] CC: Arcola's bringing Porter back into the scramble whether he likes it or not. OA: But now he's taking the ladder off of Gaines and Reason! Setting it in the corner now, wedging it horizontally between the ropes! [Justin goes back for Porter, pressing him into the opposite corner. He hops back a couple of steps, one hand in Porter's, the other on his shoulderblade.] OA: Irish whip! [Arcola falls on his face from the force.] "KRRRRAAAAANNNNNGGGG!!!!" "UUUUWWWWWAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!" [Porter's ribs collide with the ladder and he's ricocheted to his face.] OA: Lord have MERCY! Impact plus! CC: They're making every move matter tonight. OA: Hold on guys, Trevor Storm just wandered into the adult section! He's dragging another table off that fat stack! CC: I thought the fat stack was licking his wounds next to Reason over there. OA: Storm heaves the table into the ring and makes eye contact with Arcola. It's like an unspoken understanding they have. [The one-night teammates open the legs of the table and set it up. Both grab an arm of Porter's and send him to the ropes.] OA: Porter sent for the ride! Thrown back! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> OA: ARCOLA WITH A FLAPJACK ... [Storm reaches over Arcola's shoulder and digs all ten fingers into Porter's neck. Arcola ducks as Storm pivots.] "CRRRAAAAACCCCKKKKK!!!!!" "BOOOOM!!!" OA: ASSISTED POINT OF AUTHORITY!!! CC: That's the second plank DTP's been through tonight, Ambrose! OA: Arcola picks the ladder up off of Gaines and Reason. "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" OA: But Trevor Storm just jerked it from him! CC: Well there's nothing left for Arcola to do, Ambrose. Trevor Storm can take it from here, per orders of Brian Nelson! OA: Storm is Nelson's hand picked candidate to be the next IWF/WOW World Champion, and you have to wonder if he'll order a man cut from the type of fabric Arcola is to make SURE Storm wins, what other lengths will he go to?? CC: He may not have to go that far! Storm has the ladder set! He's climbing, Ambrose! STORM'S CLIMBING! [POP!!!] OA: McMANNIS IS ON THE APRON, BUT ARCOLA'S IN HIS WAY! "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" [Arcola slugs McMannis repeatedly, knocking him on his can with each shot, but using the ropes as a catapult McMannis continues returning to Arcola's face.] OA: These fans are booing Arcola for standing in McMannis's way, but he's doing what he has to! The man is doing his damn job, for better or worse! [Surprise! The camera cuts away, showing Paul Kiljoy with a chair, perched on the top rope behind Storm.] CC: HOLD ON! I THINK McMANNIS IS JUST A DIVERSION! [Kiljoy soars, propelling the chair out in front and dropkicking it straight into Storm's spine.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "BANG!!!!!" [POP!!! POP!!! POP!!!] CC: HOOOOLY SHHHHH-- "KRRRRAAAANNNNGGGGG!!!!" "SSSCCCCRRRAAAPPPPPEEE!!!!" "KLANGGGGG!!!" "TTTTHHHHHUD!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" OA: MY GOD!!! MY GOD!!! STORM, THE LADDER, _ALL_ COLLAPSING AND DRIFTING OVER THE TOP!!! [Storm lay prone, face down on the concrete, beneath one half of a ladder now ripped into halves.] CC: Kiljoy spins Arcola around! OA: European uppercut! Another! Another! [McMannis, still on the apron, pulls himself back to his feet and hooks Arcola's arms.] OA: __ URAKEN ! ! ! __ "UUUUUWWWWWAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" [McMannis's torso torques as he soars from the apron to the aisle.] CC: KILJOY MISSED!!! ARCOLA DUCKED AND HE SENT McMANNIS PACKING!! [Kiljoy smirks as he briefly studies the result of his miscalculation. He turns back to Arcola.] OA: ARCOLA JUST TOSSED HIM A CHAIR!! CC: DON'T CATCH IT, PAUL! "BANG!!!!" "UUUUUWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: __ PALM STRIKE ! ! ! ___ DRIVING THE CHAIR STRAIGHT INTO KILJOY'S FACE!! CC: KILJOY MAY NEED RECONSTRUCTIVE SURGERY AFTER THAT! [Arcola unfolds the chair and the places it in the center of the ring. He palms Kiljoy by the forehead and grips the back of his neck with the other hand.] OA: HE PULLS KILJOY TO HIS FEET, AND HE'S HOLDING HIM THERE!! KILJOY WANTS DESPERATELY TO COLLAPSE RIGHT ON HIS FACE, BUT ARCOLA HAS ANOTHER DESTINATION IN MIND!! __ HOISTS HIM INTO THE AIR ! ! ! __ "BANG!!!!!" "KRRRRRUUUUUNNNNKKKKKK!!!!" OA: CLAW SLAM!!! CLAW SLAM THROUGH THE CHAIR!!! MY DEAR GOD!!! CC: This is CARNAGE, Ambrose!! YEARS are being shaved off careers before our eyes! Directions in life are being rethought! Decisions are being made! We're watching the future of the I-Slash and these eight men take shape before our eyes! OA: Arcola bails to check on his partner, and I think HIS decisions has been made! If he had ANY interest in defying Nelson at this point he'd be going straight for another ladder! Instead he's trying to revive his only chance of making it out of this match alive! [Maverick comes to his feet and surveys his surroundings. Porter? Down. Gaines? Down. Kiljoy? Down. Reason? Down. Arcola? Storm? Unaccounted for. McMannis? Down.] OA: Maverick is up, and he sees nothing standing between him and the world championship! GO FOR IT, BIG M! CHASE YOUR DREAM DOWN, BIG BOY! [The crowd ROARS as Maverick pounds his chest and points to the belt overhead. He rushes out of the ring, to the aisle, and jerks a ladder off the stack. The decibal level rises as he fires the ladder through the bottom rope and dives in after it.] OA: YEAH, GO AHEAD! SET IT UP! THIS IS YOUR TIME! THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO BECOME A _MAN_!! [Big M erects the contraption and takes a step toward immortality. The crowd gathers behind him as he takes another ... another ... another ... ] OA: YOU'RE ALMOST THERE!! JUST A FEW MORE STEPS, BIG M!! YOU'VE GOT IT IN YA!! WE KNOW YOU'RE TIRED!! WE KNOW YOU'RE HURT!! BUT HERE'S YOUR CHANCE TO MAKE IT ALL WORTH IT!! CC: I can't believe we are THIS CLOSE to seeing Maverick crowned! OA: Believe it, Crane! He's closing in on it! He's about to live the drea-- Uh ... Oh no! AW NO! REASON IS UP, AND HE'S GOT MAVERICK'S ANKLE!! CC: HE RISKED IT ALL TO STOP GUNNAR, AND NOW HE'S GONNA DASH MAVERICK'S DREAMS! And he OWES HIM for nearly decapitating him on Graphic Nature! OA: Big M isn't gonna go down without a fight! He's stomping down at Reason! Throwing his foot around with lousy accuracy! [Reason bobs and weaves around the kicks as he tugs on the other foot. Maverick continues reaching for the belt, his fingers twinkling about six inches beneath it.] "BIG-M!!!!! BIG-M!!!!! BIG-M!!!!!" "BIG-M!!!!! BIG-M!!!!! BIG-M!!!!!" "BIG-M!!!!! BIG-M!!!!! BIG-M!!!!!" "BANG!!!!!" [POP!!!! POP!!!! POP!!!!] CC: NO!! NO, NO, NO!!! OA: IT'S NATE McMANNIS!!! COMING OUT OF _NOWHERE_ TO GET REASON OFF HIS PARTNER'S BACK!! [McMannis throws a freshly mangled chair to the ground, points to his partner, and then to the belt just inches above his head. He runs to the ropes and sticks his face into the nearest camera, wanting to deliver a personal message.] McMANNIS: "_FUCK_ BRIAN NELSON!!" OA: OH-MY-WORD!! [Maverick takes one more step, the last on his way to victory.] [POP!!! POP!!! POP!!!] OA: HE'S CLINCHED THE LEATHER STRAP!! ALL HE'S GOTTA DO IS PULL IT DOW-- WAIT A MINUTE!! WHAT A HALLUCINATIN' MINUTE!! [What we never noticed through the passion of the moment was "Dreamlover" Trey Porter climbing the other side of the ladder. His head surfaces just above the top rung, unbeknownst to Maverick until ... ] OA: PORTER RAKES HIS EYES!! [And sucks all the wind out of Maverick's sails. He grabs his temporarily blinded eyes. Porter LEAPS off the side of the ladder, hooking Maverick's head before descending!] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "BOOOOOOOM ! ! ! !" [UNGODLY FINISHER POP!!!!!] "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" OA: __ DREAMCUTTER!!!! __ CC: THAT WAS A _WET_ DREAMCUTTER FROM FIFTEEN FEET, AMBROSE!! OA: Maverick was SO CLOSE! He was INCHES from having done it ALL here in the I-Slash! CC: Hey, the match aint over, Ambrose, and whether I like it or not there's a good chance Maverick has another climb left in him! OA: You said it. Look at this now! [McMannis stares down at his partner with genuine concern. It's the same look that connects him to the IWF/WOW World Championship as he tilts his head to the sky.] CC: Don't wait for the big goof's blessings, you idiot! CLIMB! OA: Go for it, Nate! DO IT AGAIN, KID! SHOW THE WORLD YOU AREN'T NO ONE HIT WONDER! TAKE THE BELT INTO EGOS AND ICONS AND MAVERICK WILL GET ANOTHER SHOT! [McMannis then begins HIS ascent to recapture what he's always felt was his.] "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" OA: THE FANS ARE BEHIND YOU!! HE CAN'T SHOW IT, BUT MAVERICK'S BEHIND YOU!! CLIMB, KID, CLIMB!! [In the hazy distance, in the lower left corner of the screen, Arcola brow beats Storm into getting off his ass. The camera swaps angles, and now we're up close on the huddle. McMannis now moves up the ladder in a slightly blurry background.] OA: Arcola's got Storm by the hair! He's not sugar coating the fact that McMannis is about to likely get them BOTH fired! CC: LISTEN TO THE MAN, TREVOR! Arcola may be light in the loafers but he's fat in the cap! The man's got BRAINS and he KNOWS what he's talking about! "FWAP!!" OA: ARCOLA JUST SLAPPED HIM ACROSS THE MOUTH!! [He throws Storm into the ring beneath the bottom rope by a handful of hair.] OA: Storm's in the ring under ARCOLA'S power! AND McMANNIS IS ALMOST THERE! HIS SECOND IWF/WOW WORLD TITLE REIGN IS WITHIN HIS GRASP!! [Suddenly the earth falls out from beneath McMannis's feat. He instinctively graps the hoop the belt is buckled around.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> [The sky flickers a bright blue like a prolongued flash of lightning. McMannis's legs flail in the air.] OA: ARCOLA STOLE THE LADDER RIGHT OUT FROM UNDER HIM!! CC: AND NOW McMANNIS HAS TWO CHOICES! HE CAN RISK IT ALL AND TRY TO UNFASTEN THAT BELT, OR HE CAN FALL AND WATCH HIS HOPES DRIFT AWAY AS HE DOES! OA: Arcola's poking and prodding at him with the ladder! He's trying to shake him right out of the tree! McMannis kicking back! [Storm lifts his head off the canvas and slithers back out of the ring.] OA: Look at Storm sneaking away! Damn him! What a cowardly son of a BITCH! After all his tough talk! After all of that so-called passion for the belt, and he's running away! He's leaving Arcola all alone! He's ... well he's ... [Storm rolls one of the three carts filled with tables toward the ring. He slides one off and sets it up at ringside.] CC: He's making a LANDING STRIP, Ambrose! OA: My God ... [He pulls a roll of masking tape from a toolbox beneath the ring, and sets something else that catches his eye to the side. He sets one table up ... then another right behind it. Arcola continues swatting at a nimble McMannis with the folded ladder. Trevor then marks the final table surface with a large "X" and sets it up to bridge the underlying the tables.] CC: X MARKS THE SPOT! OA: Arcola's heading for the corner! He sets the ladder up a few feet away, and now he's climbing the turnbuckles! That ladder is directly between him and McMannis! [Arcola sucks a heavy dose of air deep into his lungs ... and LEAPS the gap between the top turnbuckle and the ladder. He lands damn close to the top ... ] [ ... his momentum driving him and the ladder toward McMannis ... ] [ ... lunging off the ladder to gain altitude and distance ... ] [ ... his arms closing around McMannis's thighs ... ] [ ... and ripping him from the hoop ... ] [ ... NOW _CRINGE_!!] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> [McMannis slips from Arcola's grasp, freefalling well over and beyond the perimeter of the ropes. Arcola doesn't get quite the same distance, stungunning himself across the top and tumbling over to the floor.] "CCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!" "CCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!" "CCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!" OA: Oh ... "OH!!!!!!!" OA: ... my ... "MY!!!!!!!" OA: ... "GOD!!!!!!! OH-MY-GOD!!!!!! OH-MY-GOD!!!!!!!" "OH-MY-GOD!!!!!!! OH-MY-GOD!!!!!! OH-MY-GOD!!!!!!!" "OH-MY-GOD!!!!!!! OH-MY-GOD!!!!!! OH-MY-GOD!!!!!!!" CC: HE JUST ... McMANNIS JUST ... OA: HE JUST TURNED THREE TABLES INTO SHRAPNEL AND GOT SWALLOWED WHOLE!!! CC: He's DEAD!! Read him his last rites! Let's get a ten bell salute right now! OA: You have to have some pretty strong faith to believe McMannis can recover from THAT! And not only McMannis, but Arcola nearly decapitated himself in the process! CC: We've got a brawl in the ring though, Ambrose! Kiljoy and Gaines have come to life! OA: So has Porter and Reason! [Gaines shovels knees into the gut of Kiljoy in the corner. Porter carries Reason on his shoulder toward the corner and crotches him behind the top pad. Storm grabs another table off the stack and slides it into the ring, following it closely.] OA: Gaines sends Kiljoy to the ropes ... and welcomes him back with a double axe-handle! Right across the forehead! He wants to leave no doubt in Kiljoy's mind why the Gaines Family legacy outlasted and outshined the Kiljoy's! CC: I guess he's leaving him to think about it for a moment! Gaines just grabbed the ladder Arcola just used as a surfobard! He's laying it across the canvas! OA: What the hell does he have in mind?? "KKKKRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNGGGGGGG!!!!!!" "BOOOOOOOOM!!!" OA: REASON, SUPERPLEXED ONTO THE LADDER BY PORTER!!! GAINES WAS ASSISTING HIS PARTNER!! CC: Every bone in Reason's back may be broken after that! OA: Karma's a devious bitch, Crane! Porter's spreading Reason like mayo across the ladder now! [Porter shuts Reason's eyelids with two fingers, then crosses his arms over his chest.] OA: If that's not a symbol of Porter's intentions I don't know what is! He may be ready to drive the proverbial nail into Reason's casket! [Porter calmly returns to the corner and grabs the top rope, catapulting himself to the top turnbuckle in a single bound, and spitting out a trademark "OOH LA LA!" for shits and giggles.] CC: PORTER'S GONNA DO IT AGAIN! OA: Do WHAT? CC: What he does BEST! PUT IT ALL ON THE LINE! <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!" "KRRRRRRUUUUUNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!" "UUUUUUUWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" OA: SHOOTING STAR PRESS, AND HE HIT EVERY BIT OF IT!! CC: Same damn crap McMannis pulled! Punishing HIMSELF for a photo op! OA: That even has Gaines cringing! He turns his attention back to Kilj-- "BANG!!!!" CC: LIGHTS _OUT!!_ OA: KILJOY BLASTS HIM RIGHT IN THE FACE WITH A CHAIR!! HE WAS CROUCHED, READY TO POUNCE!! [Paul backs up, back to the table that Storm just inclined in the corner. He talks all kinds of shit to Gunnar as the Griz scrambles to stand, knowing he can't lay and bleed.] OA: GUNNAR'S UP!! HOLY COW, HE'S UP!! CC: It's like there was barely any effect! OA: He knows what's at stake! Gunnar's been here before! [Kiljoy smirks satanically and waves him on, completely unprepared for the catastrophe honing in on him.] OA: GUNNAR RUSHES HIM!! [He has no time to even raise the chair. He tries using it as a shield.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "KLANG!!!!" "CCCCRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "UUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" OA: GRIZZLY GORE!!!! GRIZZLY GORE!!!! [What's left of Kiljoy is in a fetal position in the corner, flakes of wood dripping off his body, a severely bent chair between his legs. Gunnar stands and backs away, blood beginning to bead down his forehead.] OA: Gunnar tore through the champion like a shotgun blast!! He turns and nudges Reason off the ladder with his foot! He's ready to reign over the I-Slash! To usher in a new era! He ... aw no ... [After picking up the ladder, Gunnar inexplicably drops it and climbs out of the ring. He approaches Cheryl and makings tipping motion toward his lips.] CC: He has every opportunity on God's green earth to become IWF/WOW World Champion and he's stopping to whet his wistle!? OA: This is just sad, Crane. This is not the Gunnar Gaines who took number one in the top two hundred! CC: Well Cheryl's letting him know it! She's not giving in! She's telling him to get in their and EARN his swig! [Gunnar pounds his fist against the apron and takes a swipe at the bottle, but Cheryl hops back. She's a woman concerned. A strong woman, but at the same time scared to death. Not for her safety, but for Gunnar's state of mind and body. He clinches his teeth and takes a step forward.] "CLANGGGGG!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" "HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!!!" [Gunnar lays in a crumpled heap next to the barricade. Next to him? A groggy mass of beef.] OA: WHAT THE HELL!? MAVERICK!! THE BIG M!! THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POUNDS JUST _FLEW_ THROUGH THE ROPES AND INTO GUNNAR!! CC: This is _INSANE!!_ OA: This match, this title, the door it'll open, it's driving these warriors to the threshold!! They're going above and BEYOND their capabilities!! [Trevor Storm having watched it all go down in his own little corner goes to work, setting up the ladder for the opportunity Gunnar lost.] CC: And it comes down to THIS, Ambrose! Trevor Storm, with NOTHING standing in his way, is preparing to reach the stars! OA: I'll tell you, if he takes it, he DESERVES it! [Storm climbs. He's tired, he's in pain, but fuck it. The remedy is just overhead. He bends his brittle knees and takes it step by step, intent not to slip. Yet he's not the sentimental favorite, and the fans are downright scared.] OA: And here comes Arcola! He's crawling into the ring! There's the man who will decide, right here and now, if Trevor Storm becomes world champion! Justin Arcola holds the key to victory this very moment! [Arcola moves on hands and knees, his throat dry, eyes heavy. He reaches up for the highest rung within his grasp.] CC: Hold on! We've got another factor! TREY PORTER IS CLIMBING THE OTHER SIDE! OA: And he's waisting no time! [DTP takes strides up the ladder to close the gap, and meets Storm at the top. They're eyes lock for a tense, decisive moment in time.] [POP!!! POP!!!] OA: AND THEY'RE TRADING BLOWS AT THE SUMMIT!! CC: THEY'RE NOT GONNA STOP TILL ONE MAN HITS ROCK BOTTOM EITHER!! [Arcola slowly climbs up below Storm, taking advantage of this stalemate.] OA: Porter blocks a shot! Right hand! Blocks another! Right hand! HE SLAMS STORM'S FACE OFF THE LADDER!! [The crowd gasps as the structure wobbles.] OA: THAT WHOLE THING COULD COME DOWN AT ANY MOMENT!! STORM GRABS A HANDFUL OF PORTER'S HAIR! AND _HE_ SLAMS DTP'S FACE INTO THE LADDER!! [Porter's nose is busted. Trevor's lips mangled. Two gruesome sights.] OA: STORM TAKES ANOTHER STEP, _AND PRESSES HIS KNEE DOWN ON PORTER'S HEAD!!_ HE'S USING PORTER'S HEAD AS A RUNG!! [Storm takes a swipe at the title, batting it with his hand as the crowd hold it's collective breath. Suddenly, he elevates. He looks down.] OA: ARCOLA'S LIFTING HIM ON HIS SHOULDERS!!! GOD ALMIGHTY, JUSTIN ARCOLA IS LIFTING STORM TO HIS PLACE IN HISTORY!!! CC: DON'T QUESTION IT, TREVOR!! JUST GRAB IT!!! JUST GRAB THE GODDAMN TITLE!!! [Storm throws his head back and reaches up with both hands.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> [GAAAAAAAAAAASP!!!!!!!] "KUCHUNG!!!!!!!" "UUUUUUUWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" "BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!" OA: MY GOD!!! MY GOD!!! CC: HE STOPPED IT!! MATTHEW REASON PUT AN END TO IT ALL!! [Reason, with whatever's left in his body, pulled Arcola out from beneath Storm. Trevor dropped straight down, cracking his head off the top of the ladder, resulting in a sickening sound effect, and landed flat on his back.] OA: STORM HAD IT!! HE HAD THIS MATCH WON, BUT REASON BROUGHT HIS WORLD DOWN AROUND HIM!! He picks up Arcola! [Reason elevates Arcola into a fireman's carry, hooks one leg, and tucks his head beneath his armpit, and brings him down with an emerald fusion.] "BOOOOM!!!" [FINISHER POP!!!!] OA: PIXIE STICKS!!! PIXIE STICKS!!! [Porter has slipped a few rungs, but he's still in the hunt. He begins another ascent. Reason staggers toward the ladder. And suddenly the complexion of the match is altered drastically. He begins to climb, desperately chasing Porter down.] CC: We thought we had the answers! REASON changed the questions, just like always! OA: Now it's between Matthew Reason and the man who's neck he damn near shattered! "Dreamlover" Trey Porter!! REASON MEETS HIM AT THE TOP, AND WE'VE GOT ANOTHER SLUGFEST!! [Reason aims everything he's got at Porter's bloody, distorted beak. Porter has no aim. He just comes out swinging. Suddenly ... Reason looks down ... ... and freezes.] OA: REASON'S FROZEN IN HIS TRACKS, CRANE!! CC: What the ... AW NO!! NO! NO! NO! OA: COULD IT BE! COULD REASON _STILL_ BE SUFFERING FROM THE VERTIGO THAT MAVERICK'S KNEE TO HIS HEAD INFLICTED!! [Reason closes his eyes, as even Porter seems confused. He wraps his arms tightly around Porter's torso as he lowers his forehead to the top rung. Porter drills him with a couple of rights to the back of the head, but this is a death grip. DTP is immobile.] OA: NEITHER ONE CAN MOVE!! REASON OUT OF MENTAL FEAR, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HIS LIFE, AND HIS FEAR HAS CAPTIVATED PORTER PHYSICALLY!! CC: HERE COMES McMANNIS, PEOPLE!! I CAN'T BELIVE _THIS!_ WHAT'S IT TAKE TO KEEP THAT LITTLE BASTARD ON HIS BACK!? OA: If you can't believe THAT, try making sense of THIS! McMannis has brought another LADDER with him!! [Nate hobbles, his knee still obviously affected by his encounter with Reason on Graphic Nature, and only worsened by his horrific fall. The crowd burns as he sets the ladder up next to Porter and Reason.] OA: HE'S CLIMBING HIS OWN LADDER!! NATE McMANNIS IS MOWING DOWN HIS OWN PATH TO VICTORY!! [Reason is still paralyzed. Porter, no matter how hard he clubs at the back of Reason, can't break free, giving McMannis ample time to reach the top. Nate straddles the ladder, one foot planted on both top rungs.] CC: He can't reach the belt from there! I don't see how this-- [Nate jumps the gap, driving the heels of both feet into Reason and Porter's ladder.] CC: OH FFFFFU-- <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "UUUUUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" OA: GOD HELP THEM!!! "KKKKKKRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!" [The ladder topples, projecting separating Reason and Porter, but projecting them over the top rope. Reason collides with the top of the ring stairs, completely dismantling the structure. Porter lands front first on the pavement, his head snapping sickeningly off the cold concrete. He involuntarily rises to his knees and slumps to the side. In a delayed result, their ladder teeters on the top rope until finally rolling over and ... ] "KRRRRAAAAAAANNNNNNNGGGGGG!!!!" [ ... landing on Porter.] OA: GOD ALMIGHTY!!!! SOMEONE PUT AN END TO THIS!!! SOMEONE'S LIFE IS GOING TO END HERE!! SOMEONE'S GOING TO BE CRIPPLED, OR WORSE YET, KILLED!!! [Nate clutches his knee and rolls from side to side. He rolls onto his face and tries to stand immediately, but falls back to one knee, grabbing his ladder.] CC: That's the price you pay, Ambrose! These are the risks you TAKE to be the undeniable BEST in this business! And if little girls like you don't like it, maybe this just isn't the place for you! OA: I know what you're saying, but DAMMIT! To know Nelson's back there banking on all this ... it's just sickening! He's like a Hussein kid with a soccar team! CC: Sometimes you have to test your athletes! Sometimes you have to know how far they're willing to go to get what they want! And right now we're finding out that, bar none, PUSSIES need not apply in the I-Slash! [McMannis regains his balance to a roaring ovation and positions the ladder beneath the glory. He scales it, much like he saw on Graphic Nature, with the strength of his arms and the agility of one leg.] OA: What heart! What determination! That man took a twenty-five foot drop through THREE tables, and his blood is STILL boiling! Title be DAMNED, Nate McMannis is _MADE_ OF GOLD!! [He hungrily inches toward the top. Face contorting an unnatural grimace. Water welling up in his eyes.] CC: If he takes it right here, I'll be the FIRST to agree with you! OA: I've NEVER seen anyone with the desire of Nate McMannis, and I'll come right and say it! I WANT HIM TO TAKE IT! GET UP THERE, BOY! RISE TO THE TOP AND RECLAIM YOUR RIGHTFUL THRONE!! "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" "Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!! Mc-MAN-NIS!!!!!" [Nate nears the top of the ladder, the camera behind him chronicaling his every motion.] OA: HE'S AT THE TOP!! HE'S DAMN NEAR OUT OF BREATH!! HE'S TREMBLING!! BUT HE'S ABOUT TO ... ABOUT ... about to ... [ ... Nate reaches to the top, only to find another has beaten him to it, and we were so occupied with his rise to glory that we never even noticed.] CC: SOMEONE ELSE IS THERE, OWEN!! OA: I CAN'T TELL WHO IT IS! HE LOOKS JUST AS WORN OUT AS McMANNIS! [The man's head is bowed into his arms folded across the top. He breathes heavily as McMannis looks down in disgust.] OA: ... dammit, Crane ... I _don't_ recognize him ... [Suddenly McMannis's eyes focus in on the gigantic I-Sore above the entrance. The smiling face is unmistakable.] "BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" OA: THAT'S BRIAN NELSON, DAMMIT!!! HE'S STARING STRAIGHT AT McMANNIS FROM THE DAMN I-SORE!! NELSON: "No, Nate ... F*** _YOU_!!" [The image fades. McMannis, as if a sudden realization has come over him, yanks the head of the man on the ladder out of his arms. The face staring back at him is not one of the chosen other seven.] [_HEEEEEEYUGE_ HEELAGE POP!!!!!] CC: HOLY GOD, THAT'S ... THAT'S ... ... __ JOHNNY "COOL" COLES!!! __ "BOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!" "UUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" OA: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?! [McMannis lays flat on his back at the feet of Super Scott after just being powerbombed off the ladder by the 6'9 creep of nature.] OA: THIS WAS A SET-UP!! McMANNIS WAS SET UP BY NELSON AND SUPER COOL!!! CC: Man ... that's cool as HELL ... but I don't know if it's right. OA: IT'S _NOT_ RIGHT, CRANE! [Coles and Super each grab a leg and drag McMannis across the canvas. The climb out and grab him again, jerking him right under the bottom rope and with no concern for his welfare ... ] "TTTHHHUD!!" OA: _OH!!_ [ ... dropping him on the pavement. Maverick slowly makes his way around the ring, unaware of anything that just went down, but he spots Super Scott above the destruction. He whips his head from side to side, immediately looking for McMannis.] CC: I think Maverick smells something foul! OA: You're damn right he does! SIC 'EM, BIG M!! [Maverick jogs around the horn. Super Scott spots him and tells Coles to keep going. He drags McMannis by his injured leg up the aisle ... the ramp ... and near the entrance. Super Scott and Maverick collide in the aisle.] OA: AND NOW BIG M AND SUPER SCOTT ARE GOING AT IT!! TOOTH AND NAIL!! BLOW FOR BLOW!! [Coles disappears, taking McMannis into oblivion with him. Super Scott takes several steps back with each received fist, luring Maverick further away from the match until both of them join Coles and McMannis in the back.] CC: What a SCHEME! Super Cool have taken McMannis and Maverick out of the equation! OA: And it would appear we're down to three teams now! This is a damn TRAVESTY! McMannis HAD IT! This isn't the spirit of competition! This is a damn dictatorship! This is a chess game and Nelson is moving people around like damn PAWNS! CC: They can still get back in this, Ambrose, they've just got to want it! It's just one more team in their way! OA: Ladies and gentlemen, do us all a favor and PRAY for the safe return of McMannis and Maverick to-- CC: What are YOU, and evangelist now?? OA: I'm a HUMAN BEING, Crane! Which is more than I can say for you, Nelson, or Super Cool! [Back at ringside, Cheryl kneels at Gunnar's side, trying to revive her husband. He lashes out quickly and unexpectedly, tearing the bottle of wood grain from her grasp. She leaps back instinctively as he comes to his knees and unscrews the top, shoving the neck immediately into his throat.] CC: It looks like the cowardly Grizzly is mustering up some liquid courage! OA: ANOTHER sad turn of events tonight! [By the time he wipes the moistness from his beard, half the bottle is consumed. He sets the bottle on the pavement and comes to his feet, rolling his shoulders forward in preparation for this ongoing war.] CC: Whatever the case, he's rejuvanated! The Baddest Thang Runnin' is heading back into the ring! OA: BUT KILJOY'S THERE TO WELCOME HIM BACK!! [POP!!! POP!!!] OA: GUNNAR DRILLS HIM!! AGAIN!! AGAIN!! __ AND NOW HE'S GOT HIM BY THE THROAT!! __ KILJOY'S GAGGING!! [The champion jogs in place in a dance of terror before Gunnar lifts him completely off the canvas.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "CLACK!!" "UUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!" [Gunnar's grip loosens as he falls to one knee. Kiljoy stumbles back into a corner, gasping for air.] OA: WHAT THE-- [Trevor Storm stands behind him with a stomach wrenching gash running down his jaw. He jerks Gunnar's head back and places a metallic object straight to the top of his head.] "CLACK!!" [Gunnar roars, grabs his head, and lunge face first into the mat.] CC: THAT'S A FRIGGIN' __ STAPLEGUN ! ! ! __ OA: WHERE THE HELL DID HE GET _THAT!?_ CC: He probably fished it out of the toolbox earlier! He set something aside before he grabbed the tape! OA: Dear God! I knew the man was no stranger to armed robbery, having stolen a victory from Maverick at In Cold Blood using a GUN! CC: He's damn sure pulling the trigger tonight! [Storm mounts Gunnar's back and presses the staplegun to the back of his head. Kiljoy lifts a nearby chair and steps onto the second rope.] "BANG!!!!" [POP!! POP!!] OA: KILJOY SPARES GUNNAR!!! HE JUST DRUMMED TREVOR STORM OVER THE SKULL WITH A CHAIR!!! [Arcola, who's been biding his time in the corner, watching everyone else burn fuel, finally yanks himself to his feet (Jake Roberts style) and ... leaves the ring unnoticed. He walks the aisle and grabs an armful of chairs off the cart.] CC: Arcola's collecting wood for the fire, Ambrose! He just set a stack of chairs on the apron! And he's going backfor more! OA: As if the flames needed to be fanned any higher tonight! [This time Arcola grabs the final ladder. He sits it next to the stack of chairs ... and heads back for one more load. He pushes an entire cart of tables to ringside and one by one slides them under the bottom rope.] OA: Cripes, man! Arcola's filling the ring with timber! He's whipping them off the stack like pancakes! CC: I count at least five! OA: Six! Seven! It's apparent that Arcola's seen enough! [He begins leaning tables in each corner of the ring as Kiljoy positions Gunnar and Storm shoulder to feet. He grabs the legs of Storm.] OA: What in God's name is KILJOY doing now? [He winds Storm's leg around knees, grabs the other leg, and falls back.] OA: FIGURE FOUR ON STORM!! [Kiljoy reaches back and grabs the arm of Gunnar Gaines, applying a fujiwara armbar.] [POP!!! POP!!!] OA: FUJIWARA ON GAINES!! HE'S GOT SIMULTANEOUS SUBMISSION HOLDS ON BOTH MEN!! [Gunnar pounds his free fist against the canvas as blood from the staple wounds stain his hair. Storm writhes like a worm on a hook. Arcola just finishes placing the fourth table in the last corner. Arcola pauses, taking a long, hard look at Trevor Storm in pain ... and smirks.] CC: THAT SON OF A BITCH! ARCOLA'S ENJOYING STORM'S AGONY, AND HE'S GONNA PROLONGUE IT! OA: Nelson never put a timetable on that victory, Crane! Arcola can make this a VERY long night for Trevor Storm! [POP!!! POP!!!] OA: MY GOD!! HE'S ALIVE!! [Arcola is jerked back violently by a thread of barbed wire across the bridge of his nose.] OA: MATTHEW REASON IS RUBBING ARCOLA'S FACE RAW WITH A STRAND OF BARBED WIRE!!! [Reason drops to one knee, embedding it into the back of Arcola's neck, pressing his head into the barbed wire as he pulls it back. Justin's skin breaks and the bloodgates open.] OA: THIS IS VILE!! CC: THIS IS HISTORY!! THAT RING IS _MOIST_ WITH THE BLOOD OF MEN WHO WILL GO DOWN AS LEGENDS!! MEN WHO WILL _NEVER_ BE FORGOTTEN BECAUSE OF THIS NIGHT AND OTHERS REMINESCENT OF IT!! AND _DAMN_ THE MAN WHO QUESTIONS WHETHER IT'S RIGHT OR WRONG AND DOESN'T JUST ENJOY IT FOR WHAT IT IS! AND _YES_ I'M PASSIONATE ABOUT THAT! OA: Reason drops him! Thank God, he dropped him! [You won't be thanking anyone in a minute, Ambrose. Reason opens up one of the tables that didn't make it to a corner and positions it next to the only ladder still standing. He rolls Arcola onto the plank, then climbs on as well.] [Silence reigns as he takes a couple of backsteps up the ladder, clamps Arcola's head between his knees, barbed wire still coiled around his face, and waistlocks him.] OA: Oh no ... don't ... YOU'LL CRIPPLE HIM, YOU GODDAMN LUNATIC!!! YOU'LL END HIS CAREER!!! [Reason jerks up, not completely able to turn him upside down, but enough that he has him where he wants him. He leaps forward ... ] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> [ ... and it seems like the longest fall of the night.] "CCCCCCCRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!" "TTTHHHHUUUUUMMMMPPPPP!!!!" [The table EXPLODES! The crowd is stunned, horrified, and sickened all at once.] CC: HE PILEDROVE HIM THROUGH THE DAMN TABLE!!! OA: ... ... CC: OH MAN! Bouquets and donations can be sent to the Justin Arcola Memorial Fund, care of the I-Slash! OA: ... stop it ... oh God ... [Arcola doesn't move, and we don't know if he could if he wanted to. Reason TEARS the barbed wire off his face, tearing more skin with the spokes as he does. Then, if you thought he'd already done the unthinkable ... ] OA: NO!! LEAVE HIM BE!! DON'T ... DON'T _TOUCH HIM!!_ [ ... Reason jerks him violently to his feet and drapes his back across the top rope before stepping out to the apron. He ducks under Arcola's shoulder, lifts, and turns, rotating Arcola until his legs are slung over his shoulders.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "UUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" CC: REASONABLE FORCE!!! REASONABLE FORCE POWERBOMB TO THE COLD, HARD CONCRETE!!! [The crowd knows how they feel, and they want Reason to know it too.] "YOU-SICK-FUCK!!!!! YOU-SICK-FUCK!!!!! YOU-SICK-FUCK!!!!!" "YOU-SICK-FUCK!!!!! YOU-SICK-FUCK!!!!! YOU-SICK-FUCK!!!!!" "YOU-SICK-FUCK!!!!! YOU-SICK-FUCK!!!!! YOU-SICK-FUCK!!!!!" "YOU-SICK-FUCK!!!!! YOU-SICK-FUCK!!!!! YOU-SICK-FUCK!!!!!" [Reason massages his right thigh, just below his tailbone, as he comes to his feet bearing an inhumane smile that we wish would just DIE.] OA: Reason has done the unthinkable. The UNIMAGINABLE! CC: And he's coming back for more, folks! [Reason tumbles under the bottom rope and notices his partner, Paul Kiljoy, still inducing an inescapable pain on Gunnar and Storm. He takes a couple of steps and drops a leg across the back of Gunnar's head. Kiljoy senses his partner's work and releases both men.] OA: Kiljoy and Reason are side by side! The only two men standing! CC: And there's nothing standing between them and the title but ... but ... OA: EACH OTHER! [A tense staredown ensues. Kiljoy letting it be knowing that he's about to climb that ladder. Reason turns and stares at the structure ... a little unsure of himself ... ] CC: Let Kiljoy take it, bro! Meet him at Egos & Icons! There won't be a ladder! There won't be any heights to overcome! Just let him do it for the both of you! [Kiljoy reaches for the ladder and places his foot on the bottom rung. Reason reaches out and cuffs his wrist.] [POP!!! POP!!!] CC: WHAT IS HE _DOING!?_ OA: REASON WANTS IT! HE WANTS IT BAD ENOUGH TO DEFY PAUL KILJOY! [Kiljoy steps down and shoves his finger in Reason's chest. Heated words are exchanged until ... ] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> [POP!!!!! POP!!!! POP!!!!!] OA: DTP!!! IT'S DTP, CATAPULTING HIMSELF FROM THE APRON WITH A CROSS BODY ON _BOTH_ MEN!!! "D-T-P!!!!! D-T-P!!!!! D-T-P!!!!!" "D-T-P!!!!! D-T-P!!!!! D-T-P!!!!!" "D-T-P!!!!! D-T-P!!!!! D-T-P!!!!!" "D-T-P!!!!! D-T-P!!!!! D-T-P!!!!!" OA: HE'S ALL OVER MATTHEW REASON!!! SMOTHERING HIM WITH MALICIOUS RIGHTS!!! CC: And it's all Reason's damn fault!! OA: How did Porter EVER come back from the fall he took! From the impact! CC: You KNOW how he came back! The dude's like a rubber ball, dammit! He just bounces back no matter how hard or fast he lands! OA: Now Gaines is coming to HIS senses, and he's hungry for Kiljoy! [Gaines favors his left arm as he crawls onto Kiljoy. He winches as he pins him against the mat by his neck with his left hand. He balls up the right and drops it ferociously over and over and over!] OA: And now he's letting Kiljoy know, in his own way, that he will NOT be made a fool of! Gunnar Gaines is NO ONE'S puppet! [Porter brings Reason to his feet and ... ] "THUMP!!" [ ... fires him into one of the waiting tables in the corner. It fails to crack. Porter stomps the canvas once and releases an echoing "GOOD GAWD!!". The crowd braces for the inevitable ... ] OA: __ DREAMKICK!!! __ [ ... but it never connects. Reason ducks and clamps Porter's leg onto his shoulder, then wraps the other arm around his neck. He jerks him up, exposing his own abdomen for a brief second.] "CCCCCCRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!" [POP!!!! POP!!!! POP!!!!] OA: GRIZZLY GORE!!!! GUNNAR JUST GORED REASON THROUGH THE TABLE, SAVING PORTER FROM A CAPTURE SUPLEX!!! "GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!!" "GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!!" "GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!!" "GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!!" OA: And he's hearing appreciation from the people for it!! [As Gunnar collects himself, Porter crawls out of the ring and approaches Cheryl.] CC: What's THIS crap? PORTER needs to drown his sorrows too? OA: It looks like he's pleading with Cheryl to give him the wood grain! He ... yeah, he's telling her Gunnar needs it! They're killing themselves in there, and pain is the last thing that needs to be in their way! CC: JUST GIVE HIM THE DAMN BOTTLE! [Cheryl meekly shakes her head "no" ... Porter drops to his knees, clasping his hands together, and BEGS for the bottle. She closes her eyes ... tightens her lips ... ] [POP!!!!] [ ... and forks it over.] OA: SHE GAVE IT UP!! SHE GAVE PORTER THE WOOD GRAIN!! [Porter dives into the ring with the bottle. He toasts the air between he and Gunnar. The Grizz smirks and nods.] OA: PORTER GOES TO ONE SIDE OF THE LADDER! GUNNAR TO THE OTHER! AND THEY'RE CLIMBING!! GOOD GAWD, THE TWO LEGENDS HAVE IT IN THE BAG!! THEY'RE GOING TO HEADLINE EGOS & ICONS!! CC: AND YOU COULDN'T HAVE PICKED A BETTER VENUE FOR THESE TWO TO CLASH! [They scale the ladder with ease as the crowd blows the roof off the arena. Storm's legs won't cooperate. Kiljoy is dazed. Reason is folded in the corner amongst splintered fragments of lumber. Arcola hasn't moved a muscle for ten minutes.] OA: THEY'RE AT THE TOP!! [In a surreal moment, DTP and Gunnar stand high above the I-Slash's best. Porter hands Gunnar the bottle. Gunz guzzles ferociously ... pries the bottle from his lips, and burps. He hands the remnants to Porter who takes his share, leaving a thin layer at the bottom, then winces at the burning sensation in his chest.] CC: BUT WHO TAKES IT!? WHO WALKS AWAY CHAMPION, AND WHO WALKS AWAY CHALLENGER!? [SELFLESS ACT POP!!!!!!!] OA: PORTER IS POINTING AT GUNNAR!! HE'S TELLING _HIM_ TO TAKE IT!! CC: The bastard aint arguing! [Gunnar reaches up, unfastening the buckle button by button. Porter turns back to the crowd, holding the bottle by the neck, and toasts them as well ... ] "GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!!" "GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!!" "GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN-NAR!!!!! GUN--- "KKKKKKKKKKKSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" [ ... before whipping it back around and shattering it across the side of Gunnar's skull. Shards of glass and beads of wood gray explode.] CC: WHAT THE HELL!! "BOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!" [Gunnar's body emits a sickening, resonating thud as it hits the canvas from fifteen feet above. His lower half torques, looking as if he might've snapped in half.] OA: SON OF A BITCH!!! PORTER JUST DOUBLECROSSED GAINES!!! CC: HE'S NOT EVEN GOING FOR THE BELT!! [Porter descends the ladder and strolls over to Gunnar's body. He reaches down, lifts his limp skull off the mat, and paintbrushes the side of his face with the back of his hand.] OA: DAMN HIM!!! DAMN TREY PORTER!!! [He leaves Gunnar with a few words he never hears, and climbs out of the ring. Porter bites his bottom lip and spits several times as he walks the aisle, wading through oncoming debris and insults.] OA: HE'S WALKING AWAY! PORTER'S WALKING AWAY FROM GUNNAR, FROM THE TITLE, AND FROM THE FANS! [Middle fingers bounce to and fro with the beat of a chant he brought upon himself.] "FUCK-YOU!!!!! FUCK-YOU!!!!! FUCK-YOU!!!!!" "FUCK-YOU!!!!! FUCK-YOU!!!!! FUCK-YOU!!!!!" "FUCK-YOU!!!!! FUCK-YOU!!!!! FUCK-YOU!!!!!" CC: I think I just ... yeah, I think I just had a theory, Ambrose! OA: What the hell could POSSIBLY justify THAT!? CC: Porter NEVER intended for him or Gunnar to win this match! He set him up all along! We all know about Gunnar's lust for gold! For fame! For the front page! What better way to get at him than to bring him SO CLOSE to it all, and then RIP it away from him! Porter COULD have grabbed that title, but then he'd just be giving Gunnar one more shot at the title! It was all a plan! PORTER'S A GENIUS! OA: As far as I'm concerned he succeeded in NOTHING but degrading his own legacy as a legitimate champion! As someone who rose above the stereotypes and self-severing agendas! CC: Then you DID buy into the stereotypes, because this has ALWAYS been what DTP's about! OA: Then he NEVER belonged in this match! [Cheryl is in the ring as the cameras cut back. Referees attempt to pull her from the body of Gaines, but she struggles. Then her eyes are filled with terror ... and the image of Paul Kiljoy.] OA: GET HER OUT OF THERE! RIGHT NOW! GET HER AWAY FROM THAT MAN! [Her struggle weakens until she's finally pulled to safety. Kiljoy looks down at Gunnar, bleeding profusely from the side of the head. In fact, there's barely an unstained patch of hair or skin on his cranium. Paul giggles unnaturally, shoulders jiggling, in perhaps an homage to his late brother.] OA: Kiljoy brings Gunnar to his feet and casually deposits him through the ropes! CC: And now the champion is all that's left! His partner is mulch! Trevor Storm ... OA: TREVOR STORM!! MY GOD HE'S HALFWAY UP THE LADDER!! [Sneaky little devil. He pounds his thighs, trying to get some circulation back in them. Alternate glances from the title above to Kiljoy below, hoping to go unnoticed.] OA: KILJOY'S CONSUMED WITH GUNNAR GAINES SO MUCH THAT TAUNTING CHERYL MAY COST HIM EVERYTHING!! [As Storm closes in, Kiljoy threatens to expose himself to Gunnar's wife. He kisses her middle finger and offers it right to him. He's ammused. He reaches into the back of his tights ... digs into his Ass of Tricks ... but something glimmers in the corner of his eye. He turns and is appalled to find Trevor Storm not five feet from his belt.] CC: HE SEES HIM NOW! OA: KILJOY JUST GOT A FIRE LIT UP UNDER HIM! HE'S SCALING THE OTHER SIDE OF THE LADDER! How many duels have seen up there tonight?? CC: They don't matter now! It all comes down to THIS! [Kiljoy makes to to the top, peering just enough over the top to get his bell rung with Trevor's fist!] [POP!!!] OA: STORM DRILLS HIM! KILJOY ANSWERS BACK! IT'S ANOTHER SLUGFEST, FOR ALL THE MARBLES! [Storm brings his left hand into focus, and he may have the difference maker clutched within it.] CC: HE'S GOT THE STAPLEGUN!! OA: AND HE BLOCKS A SHOT FROM KILJOY!! [He reaches around Kiljoy's head and pulls him forward, slamming his head into the top rung. He then pulls him up and straight into the line of fire. The staplegun touches his forehead ... ] "CLACK!!" "UUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" "BOOOOOOM!!!!" [That does it. Kiljoy skids down the ladder and lands on his back. Chalk outline the man. Storm drops the staplegun and makes his final bid.] CC: THIS IS IT!!! [He begins to finish the job Gunnar started.] [Just a couple of buttons to unfasten ... ] "KLUNG!!!" OA: WHAT THE-- WE'VE GOT FLYING CHAIRS!!! [Storm wobbles, having just been stricken with an airborn chair. He looks down, and sees no one. The peers over the ladder, and now he knows.] STORM: "FUCK! JUST DIE!" OA: MATTHEW REASON'S ON HIS WAY UP!! CC: TOP FLOOR, PLEASE! REASON'S HASN'T GIVEN IN YET!! [Fears be damned, Reason climbs like a man possessed as Storm waves him on.] STORM: "DON'T LOOK DOWN, BITCH!! BRING IT!!" OA: IT'S DOWN TO THESE TWO MEN!! TREVOR STORM!! MATTHEW REASON!! IWF/WOW WORLD TITLE AT STAKE!! CC: REASON'S GOT THAT STRAND OF BARBED WIRE WITH HIM!! IT'S WRAPPED AROUND HIS FIST!! [Reason's knuckles ooze blood. Storm reaches over the ladder, grabbing Reason by the hair and pulling him to the top.] OA: STORM'S IMPATIENT! "KLUNG!!!" OA: HE SLAMS REASON'S HEAD INTO THE LADDER!! RIGHT HAND!! RIGHT HAND!! REASON'S SHOULDERS ARE DOING THEIR BEST TO JUGGLE HIS HEAD!! "UUUUUUUWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" OA: REASON HEADBUTTS STORM, RIGHT IN THAT GAPING JAW!! [Both reach out, with both arms, and tear into each other's hairs. They pull until they're nose to nose, faces mashed in an animalistic battle of supremacy.] CC: LOOK AT THEIR EYES!! THERE'S A RAGING FIRE IN BOTH OF THEM, AND ONE HAS TO EXTINGUISH THE OTHER!! THEY'RE ANIMALS, AMBROSE!! PRIMAL CREATURES!! [And then it happens. Reason cocks his head to the side, opens his jaws, and closes them around the wound in Storm's jaw.] OA: OH LORD ... CC: HE'S CHEWING HIM UP, AMBROSE!! HE'S CHEWING STORM TO SHREDS!! [Storm can't bear it. He releases Reason's locks and grabs the ladder for balance. Reason tilts his head back and blood spurts into the sky before he cocks back and unloads a barbed wired fist straight to that same, mangled jaw.] "UUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" [Storm's eyelids slide shut. He exhales, and almost as if in slow motion, drifts lifelessly to the side.] <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> "___ BOOOOOOOOM !!! ___ " OA: REASON HAS DONE IT!!! MATTHEW REASON HAS ELIMINATED ALL OBSTICLES!!! THERE IS YOUR NEW WORLD CHAMPION!!! THERE IS THE MAN WHO-- CC: OWEN!! OA: WHAT!? [Do you know what's next?] CC: It aint over yet. [Oh yeah ... it's _his_ belt, and he aint handing it over that easy.] OA: __ KILJOY!! __ [He rests his eyes on the ladder. Matthew Reason as he catches his breath. The title as it dangles precariously above creation. He looks at the staple he just ripped from his head, then flicks it to the ground, showing all it was worth. Reason has a couple of more steps to take, and he bides his time. Having faced his fear, he must now conquer it.] OA: He's climbing the other side! It comes down to these two partners! To the I-Slash's Axis of Evil! Paul Kiljoy! Matthew Reason! [Kiljoy picks up the staplegun and climbs in earnest.] CC: KILJOY'S BRINGING THE DIFFERENCE MAKER! OA: HE'S ALMOST UP THERE, AND REASON JUST NOTICED!! [The dread in Reason's eyes enflames. He reaches up frantically, BARELY touching the title as Kiljoy breathes down his neck. And then ... ] [ ... one ... ] [ .... desperate ... ] [ ... grab ... ] "CLACK!!" OA: KILJOY REACHED OUT AND STAPLED HIS ARMPIT!!! [Reason brings his arm tightly into his side and grows. He extends the other arm into the air.] "CLACK!!" CC: HE DID IT AGAIN!! [Reason clinches the other arm to his side. Kiljoy rears back with the staplegun and ... ] "CLACK!!!!" [ ... nearly punches a hole through Reason's chest.] "UUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: KILJOY'S PICKING HIM APART AT LEISURE!! DON'T TORTURE HIM, DAMMIT, JUST TAKE THE BELT AND GO!! [Reason hunches over the ladder. Kiljoy reaches for the belt with his free hand. All it's gonna take is a slight tug.] OA: IT'S ALMOST OVER!! FINALLY!! "CLACK!!!!" [INSANE, UNHOLY POP!!!! POP!!!! POP!!!!] CC: I CAN'T BELIEVE HE JUST DID THAT!! AAAAAAHHHHH!!! [What the hell just happened?] [Reason, having swiped it as Kiljoy reached for his title, now holds the staplegun ... ] OA: I ... I ... I CANNOT BELIEVE I JUST SAW THAT!!! [ ... leaving Kiljoy holding his cockgoblins. He grabs the ladder for balance, sweat now pouring down his cherry red face. The poor guy wants to cry, you just know it. Reason, with time to spare, uncoils the barbed wire from his hand.] OA: WHAT ELSE!? WHAT ELSE IS IT GONNA TAKE!? [With one hand he shoves the barbed wire underneath Kiljoy's jaw. He jams the staplegun to it with the other. And this ... my friends ... ] "CLACK!!!" "CLACK!!!" "CLACK!!!" "UUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" " ___ BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!! ___ " [ ... is the sound of a very sick man bringing his dream down to earth.] DING! DING! DING! [YOU AINT NEVER HEARD A POP LIKE THIS!!!!!!!] [There's no spirit left in the man sprawled across the canvas with the barbed wire stapled just beneath his jaw.] FRANCINE: HERE IS YOUR WINNER ... [PLAY THE FUCK OUTTA "SCHISM"!!!] ... and NNNNNEEEEEEEWWWWWWW I W F / W O W W O R L D C H A M P I O N M A T T H E W R E A S O N ! ! ! ! ! OA: MATTHEW REASON DID IT!!! MY GOD, HE DID IT!!! HE TOOK THE WORLD ON TONIGHT!! HE STOOD BESIDE PAUL KILJOY FOR AS LONG AS HE COULD TOLERATE IT!!! THE RESIDENT PSYCHO ... HISTORY'S NEXT DERRANGED MIND ... IS YOUR _NEW_ IWF/WOW WORLD CHAMPION!!! [Black, gold, and silver fireworks burst above the ring and I-Sore as Reason lay sprawled on the canvas, the flap of the world title just barely in his open palm.] CC: He deserved it, Ambrose! He showed who the sickest was tonight! He showed that he was willing to cross that line! And now he's finally the MAN in the I-Slash! OA: And now we have to figure out how to DEAL with the son of a bitch! He was crazy enough before, but with this kind of clout, he may be UNCONTROLLABLE! CC: This isn't the end of the line for him, though! He still has to face Paul Kiljoy, the now former champion, on day one of Egos & Icons! He'll have to somehow catch lighting in that same bottle twice! [Cheryl, among several referees, tend to Gunnar on the outside. He doesn't seem to be responding ... ... until they bring him to his feet.] "CLANG!!!!" "UUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" OA: DEAR GOD!!! GUNNAR BLINDLY STIFF-ARMED CHERYL INTO THE BARRICADE!!! CC: That wouldn't have happened if she'd stayed in the kitchen where she belongs! [The ref's scatter as Gunnar swings wildly. He looks down, finding his unconscious wife at his feet. And then ... ] OA: What the HELL!? HE'S WALKING AWAY!! GUNNAR GAINES IS LEAVING HIS WIFE ON HER BACK!! CC: Don't wet yourself, bro. She's use to wrestlers leaving her in that position, except this one time when I left her with her legs around her-- OA: Have some TACT, Crane! Gunnar Gaines just walked away from his SOULMATE! The woman that tried to protect him from HIMSELF! I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but what's going through that man's head!? [Gunnar lumbers up the aisle, fatigued, bloody, and pissed. His fans unsure of how to react.] OA: I am SURE we'll have more to say about THIS and much more on Graphic Nature! And no matter how I feel about him though, I'm not gonna take this moment away from Matthew Reason! Ladies and gentlemen, have a look at YOUR NEW WORLD CHAMPION as we say GOODBYE from the MAYHEM ARENA!! [The camera settles on Reason. Lungs expanding and deflating rapidly. Blood drying on his face. But he'll wake up ... and when he does ... God help us.] ______ __ __ ____ ____ __ _____ __ __ /\__ _\ /\ \ __/\ \/\ _`\ / /\ \ __/\ \/\ __`\/\ \ __/\ \ \/_/\ \/ \ \ \/\ \ \ \ \ \ \_\ / /\ \ \/\ \ \ \ \ \/\ \ \ \/\ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ _\/ / / \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \_\ \__\ \ \_/ \_\ \ \ \/ / / \ \ \_/ \_\ \ \ \_\ \ \ \_/ \_\ \ /\_____\\ `\__ ___/\ \_\/_/ \ \___ __/\ \_____\ \___ ___/ \/_____/ \/__/ /__/ \/_/_/ \/__/ /___/ \/_____/\__/ /___/ Ozark Productions ©