[The credits for Good Times fade to black.. as darkness envelopes the screen for a few brief moments. With that, a logo displaying "GIPA 68" comes on the channel blue on white.. a simple yet effective diamond shape making the logo. A voiceover hits the air..] V/O: You are watching Grand Isle Public Access.. channel Sixty-Eight. Coming up next..watch the hard-hitting action of Grand Isle, Louisiana's local wrestling company.. Grand Isle Wrestling!! Two hours of jam-packed southern style wrestling at it's finest! Only here.. on channel Sixty-Eight! [And with that the camera fades out.. [We fade in to the backstage area of the Sand Dollar Marina... where Bobby Taylor is sitting... grinning. He looks to be getting ready for tonight's main event.] BT: Ahhh... I can feel the ratings climbing already. [Can't you just feel the hatred in the air?] BT: I miss one show... and the GIW suits are on the phone immediately. "Please Bobby... please come back." [Taylor snickers.] BT: "Please Outlaw... our shows are boring without you. I mean, for Christ's sake... you made our fans watch Leviticus Nelson!" I know... I know all about it. And never say that I'm not here to make the fans happy. The fans suffered last week... watching people like Russ Brady... like Doyle Woodall... [Taylor's eyes narrow.] BT: ...like Bad Eye McBaine...like Otto Verhoeven. [The Outlaw pauses for a moment, a grin crossing his face.] BT: You didn't think I forgot about you, didja Butcher? I mean... I know you probably hoped I did. You probably got down on your knees and prayed that I had. You probably drank vodka til you puked last week, celebrating the fact I didn't show up and give you back every god damn ounce of what you gave to me. [Taylor smirks.] BT: But it's not quite that simple, Herr Butcher. You see... I had business to attend to in my ol' stomping grounds last week. I had to be there for them... and anyone who knows Bobby Taylor knows that place will always take first priority for me. [The Outlaw looks around.] BT: Especially compared to this [BLEEP]hole. [Another chuckle.] BT: Otto, I bet you're all worked up now... worked up about how you came out here a couple weeks ago and poured out your soul to the world. Poured out every tear in your dark heart about how I hurt your little nephew. You laid your sob story on us all... ... and I laughed in your god damn face. [Taylor leans back against his locker, looking off into nowhere.] BT: You probably want to know why. Just like I wanted to know why a couple weeks ago. You want to know why I laughed? It's pretty simple really. [The Outlaw leans forward... whispering in the camera.] BT: I always laugh at the funeral of a legend. [Taylor cracks a grin.] BT: Cause that's what happened right here a few weeks ago, Butcher. You died... right in the middle of that ring... right where the whole world could witness it. The Butcher died... and some memory of what once was stood in his place and claimed to be a man. [The Outlaw rises.] BT: It's over for you, Otto. The heartless monster that ruled Portland... that laid waste to South Laredo... He's done. The man who destroyed Hardin.. the dead man... Byron... He's gone. And all that's left...is some whimpering soul who actually _cares_ for another human being. Some pathetic child who cried cause his playmate got hurt when he tried to play with the big boys. [The Outlaw stands up, reaching into his locker.] BT: All that's left... [Taylor grabs for his Stetson, tugging it down over his eyes.] BT: ... is you. [One last grin... and the Outlaw makes his exit as we fade to black.] [The scene remain black as we hear the distinct sound of the opening guitar riff of one "Born On the Bayou" by CCR.. as we cut to a shaky handheld version of "Bad Eye" McBaine and Leviticus Nelson falling from a bed of a truck and through the windshield of a nearby car.] #Now, when I was just a little boy,# #Standin' to my Daddy's knee,# #My poppa said, "Son, don't let the man get you# #Do what he done to me."# #'Cause he'll get you,# #'Cause he'll get you now, now.# [The camera cuts to the big Royal Rumble.. as various men are brawling in the ring.. then cutting to City Jack lifting up the Television title as the fans are all on their feet.] #And I can remember the fourth of July,# #Runnin' through the backwood, bare.# #And I can still hear my old hound dog barkin',# #Chasin' down a hoodoo there.# #Chasin' down a hoodoo there.# [Clips of Roxie and Angie rolling around on the outside.. and then a clip of Shane Destiny dropping Jaime Roth square on his head unexpectedly! Then another clip of Roth locked in the Destiny Strange as the bell sounds for the draw!] #Born On The Bayou;# #Born On The Bayou;# #Born On The Bayou.# [Quick clip of Dave Bryant superkicking Doyle Woodall.. followed by a clip of "Violator" Bobby Ray Wilkins pulling down the bottom rope as Woodall flips over and to the floor.. followed by a quick clip of Johnny Black's South Texas Deathride on Bryant through a table at ringside!] #Wish I was back on the Bayou.# #Rollin' with some Cajun Queen.# #Wishin' I were a fast freight train,# #Just a chooglin' on down to New Orleans.# [Clips of Kendrick Lane cutting a promo as the fans boo.. then a clip of Reggie Calhoun blasting City Jack in the throat with the clipboard. Jake Cutler and Harisoto Mashima counterwrestling and taking it to the mat.. followed by the end clip of Brawlin'.. where Nelson, Faith, McBaine, Brady and Wilkins brawl in a blood soaked ring of barbed wire carnage.. then cutting to the stoic face of "The Outlaw" Bobby Taylor as the crowd is beside itself!] #Born On The Bayou;# #Born On The Bayou;# #Born On The Bayou.# [Flashes of the faces of Billy Rock.. Harisoto Mashima.. Robert Kellan.. Otto Verhoeven.. Jamison Parker.. Jaime Roth.. The Scrayper and Corey Irons..] #Born On The Bayou;# #Born On The Bayou;# #Born On The Bayou.# [Flashes of the faces of Dane Levine.. Tommy Ganz.. Kendrick Lane.. City Jack.. Doyle Woodall.. Bobby Ray Wilkins.. Jack Porter.. Leviticus Nelson.. Rembrandt.. and Bobby Taylor..] #Born On The Bayou;# #Born On The Bayou;# #Born On The Bayou.# [And then the stills of one man's face.. bloodied to shit.. his eye patch caked with blood.. as we pan out.. we see the man holding the GIW Heavyweight title.. that one man being "Bad Eye" McBaine.. we freeze on this picture as the music starts to die and big bold yellow lettering lines the center of the screen..] GRAND ISLE WRESTLING TV Spetember 9th, 2002 [With that.. the music completely dies as the camera fades in to a jam packed Sand Dollar Marina!! And only one thing can be heard.. chanting throughout the marina.. "G-I-W!! G-I-W!!" "G-I-W!! G-I-W!!" "G-I-W!! G-I-W!!" "G-I-W!! G-I-W!!" "G-I-W!! G-I-W!!" "G-I-W!! G-I-W!!" "G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] [The crowd continues to chant as the camera swivels around from an upper level fixed position.. looking down at the ring and around the marina.. the fans are packed to the brim tonight.. standing room only behind the back rows.. shit, we may have 200-250 people in the house tonight. The camera tilts up to show the open air dome and the dark night's sky.. as moths swarm in masses around the two main overhead lights fixed above the ring.. the camera then tilting back down.] [It starts to zoom towards the ring.. the apron flaps on the side read "GRAND ISLE WRESTLING" in red lettering on black.. the mat itself your basic light blue.. plain looking right now, but we are sure to see it stained red by the end of the night. And in the ring stand our lovable broadcast team of Jacob Rodgers and Dirk Davidson.] [Rodgers is decked out tonight in a black slacks and a black sports jacket.. white dress shirt underneath.. his black dress shoes presenting a shiny glare off the camera. Dirk Davidson, on the other hand, sports a pair of blue jeans and a brown sports jacket with a black T-shirt underneath, true class at it's finest. Rodgers smiles to the camera.. raising a microphone to his lips.] JR: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF THE GRAND ISLE.. WELCOME TO... GRAND ISLE WWWWWWWWWWWRESTLING!!!!!!!!!!! [BIG TIME POP!!!] JR: As always.. I'm your host Jacob Rodgers.. and alongside me is the budding best color commentator in the business.. Dirk Davidson! DD: Stop waxing my balls.. I _know_ I'm good. [Booooo!] JR: Anyway.. ladies and gentlemen of the Grand Isle.. boy do we have some show lined up for you tonight! [Pop!] The TV title will be on the line! [Pop!] We got a huge tag team warfare main event.. with the likes of the Butcher, The Outlaw, The Dirty One, and the Violator! [Pop!] And four other huge matches set to blow the roof off this joint! DD: Um.. Jake? JR: What? DD: We don't have a roof.. you floppy dildo. JR: Oh.. right. Well, it was more a figure of speech. DD: Spoken like a true handicap. [Boo!] JR: Hey! DD: Continue man.. you look flustered. [The crowd continues to boo Dirk who begins to laugh at himself in the ring.. he loves his own humor, and so do we.. yes we do! Jake looses his tie and speaks.] JR: As we mentioned.. our huge main event tonight pits the likes of Bobby Taylor and Bobby Ray Wilkins [BOOO!!] against the team of Doyle Woodall and Otto Verhoeven!! [BIG POP!!] DD: Finally, finally BRW gets to abolish the ghost from this world.. and Taylor gets to abolish the has been immigrant! [Boo!] JR: I just don't see that happening.. DD: Jake.. anything can happen. ANYTHING. JR: True enough. Also tonight.. the surprising budding superstar Corey Irons [Heel Pop!] sets off to face perhaps his biggest challenge ever as he must go toe to toe with the monster, Leviticus Nelson! [Mixed Pop!!] DD: Irons was no match for regular decent guy Nelson.. he's absolutely fodder for this new Leviticus.. this angry giant monster dude! JR: Very eloquent. DD: How's this.. blow me douche. JR: Rembrandt [MEGA-HEEL POP!] is set to defend his belt tonight against perhaps the biggest upset kid this company has ever seen in Tommy Ganz [BIG POP!!]! DD: Man.. that kid gets so lucky.. he needs a catchy bitch name.. like.. hrm.. JR: How about 1-2-3 Kid? DD: Yeah, that's just flamin' enough. Wonder if anybody has ever used that. JR: I'll have to do some research.. but that can wait. Also.. in what can truly be the showstealer of the night.. Robert Kellan [HUGE POP!!] DD: The Wifebeater! [Booo!] JR: Robert Kellan squares off against the unpredictable.. the menacing.. the maniacal one we only know as The Scrayper! [HEEL POP!!] DD: Kellan may have survived Lucas McCall.. but he's no match for the little freak with the dead skin mask. JR: I tend to disagree.. Kellan has the major height and weight advantage. DD: Like that matters? JR: Yeah. DD: Oh.. next? JR: Ex-partners collide as Kendrick Lane [HEEL POP!!] puts, apparently, $10,000 on the line tonight as he faces "Dynasty" Dane Levine! [Heel Pop!] DD: Two classy technical wrestlers? In this company? That's insane! JR: Riiiiiiight. What about Parker.. or Roth.. or.. DD: Or you should can it. JR: Wah wah.. and to kick things off tonight.. we have Jamison Parker [POP!] set to take on the debuting "Suicide" Jack Porter! DD: Somebody told me in the back that this Porter fella may have lost to some guy named Tyrone the Psychedelic Undead Soldier or some such name. I sure as hell hope that's not true. JR: I heard no such rumor. DD: You aren't in like flint, though. JR: Apparently not, whatever that means. Speaking of Porter and Parker, however, let's hear some comments from the both of them as they get ready for their big opening contest in just a few moments time. [Cut backstage, where Jamison Parker, already in his generic black wrestling gear, is talking on a cell phone. It's not hard to guess who he's talking to ...] JP: ... So, let me get this straight ... my sister is _dating_?! I mean, really _dating_?!?! ... Well, I know, she is 16 and all, but ... I mean, for a while there, I wasn't even sure she liked guys! ... No, Mom, I didn't mean it that way. ... Me? Oh, I'm fine, really. Figured out why I got that apartment so cheap. The plumbing's terrible. ... I told you I'm fine. ... Yes, I got a real job. Grocery store clerk. Terribly boring stuff, but it pays the bills. ... Yes, Mom. I'm still doing that 'same wrestling crap'. How nice of you to put it that way. ... Will you quit worrying?! I know what I'm doing. ... Actually, you should see it, Mom. People are actually starting to cheer for me. It's ... well, I dunno, it's kinda like a drug, like their cheers get into your blood and you get this incredible high ... No, I'm not on drugs~! Jesus, Mom! ... Yeah, yeah ... well, I'm sorry you don't like what I'm doing, but I've told you before, this is what I want to do, and this is what I'm going to do. ... Yeah, sure. I can hear the tone in your voice from half a continent away. ... I'm coming home this weekend, Mom. I should be there in time for the family picnic. ... Can't wait to meet Liz's date. What's her name? ... I'm just kidding, Mom. ... love you, too ... bye. [Parker hits the 'end' button on the cell phone, and looks up to see the camera. He shakes his head.] JP: Parents just don't understand. [Parker sets the phone down ...] JP: I wonder how she would have reacted had I told her I got ny nose broken last week. Nah, I know how she would react. She'd have flipped, have taken the next plane flight here, have tried to talk me into coming home, have made my life a miserable stinking hell for a couple hours. See, my Mom, all she thinks about is that I got my nose broken. Me, I'm elated that I stepped in the ring with someone like Rembrandt and _only_ got my nose broken. [Parker nods.] JP: Back in New Orleans? I didn't have a clue. All I was doing was wedging my foot in the door, trying desperately to get in, and the next thing I know, I'm wrestling in front of a couple hundred people, against some dude in a faceless mask who likes staplegunning people. Maybe that's the normal introduction into the business, I dunno. But I was through the door. I was inside. That was all I cared about. Oh sure, the triangle match was ... different. And then having to face Remmy ... Remmy. I'd seen him on TV back home a couple of times. Yep, when Eli came out to my car and told me I was facing Remmy, I damn near passed out. I mean, really ... wouldn't you?! "Hey, kid, you're facing a guy who quite possibly could kill a grizzly bear with one well-aimed kick" Yeah, you'd pass out! So I didn't walk out of the ring two weeks ago. So I got carried to the back by Jamie Roth. So what? I woke up. I could breathe. My body parts were all intact. I felt ... well ... surprisingly good. And now? Tonight? I feel like taking the next step. I feel like _winning_. [Parker nods his head again.] JP: Imagine that. Me. Winning. A month ago, who would have believed that? Nobody. But now? Now it doesn't seem so farfetched, does it? [Parker shakes his head.] JP: And the best thing about it? I mean, the thing that's gonna make it so over-the-top for me? Is that when I win ... those people out there are gonna _explode_. And they're gonna explode for _me_. Now who would have thought _that_? [Parker grins, then stands up and starts walking toward the ring for his match. Cut away.] "Name's Jack Porter." [Cut to the parking lot of the Sand Dollar Marina, about an hour before the show started. Leaning against a broken down Dodge Ram that used to be blue but is now faded into a grey type color is a tall looking man, with bushy brown hair and a handsome, angular face. He's wearing faded blue jeans and black cowboy boots, as well as a sleeveless denim shirt with a very prominent gold crucifix around his neck. Giving a tug to the Stetson that covers his hair and taking a sip from a plastic 7-11 coffee cup, the newcomer squints at the camera and nods, slightly smiling.] Porter: As said, th' name's Jack Porter, an' I'm a wrassler'. Surprisin', no? A wrassler, standin' outside o' a gym, preparin' fer battle. 'course, ya look at me, standin' out here an' drinkin' a cup o' decaf an' I don't look like someone who's per-parin' fer a match. Mebbe ya'd like me ta be stretchin', er puttin' on more suitable workin' clothes. But I've aroun' doin' this here bidness fer a long time. Twelve years ta be 'xact, so ya can say 'at I done my fair share o' fightin' fer money. Ya seen one match 'gainst "Hatchet Man" Dennis Ocek, ya seen 'em all. I ain't gettin' excited about throwin' aroun' some young kid who's too young ta shave. Ain't worth the effort. [Porter takes one last sip from the cup and drops it, crushing it with his boot heel.] Porter: See, whut I am is a realis'. I been down this route a hunnert times 'fore. Some promisin' young buck is ready ta make a name fer hisself, got the fans behind 'em an' so forth, so ol' Jack gets called on ta put out the fire. Only difference is, the firs' few times I was in this situation, I was the young buck with the followin' who was put in the ring 'gainst the veteran. I won 'at night but the pro'lem was in that the fella I beat kinda had the idea that I was plugged inta politics. My ol' man ran the damn permotion, so that was bound to happen, I s'pose. [Jack looks up slightly, scratching his chin.] Porter: Just to show that my daddy wadn't pullin' no strings, I laid down fer a lot o' people I probably coulda whupped with one hand tied b'hind my back. Jus' ta show that I was a company man, that I was loyal. Sure, I 'ventually got to the top, but it took alot longer'n it should have.' But as long as my daddy ran that sucker, I did whut was asked o' me. Made all the youngin's look like they knew their ass from a whole inna ground, ever' thang. I did it fer my Dad. I put bidness ahead o' my own well bein'. Good news fer lil' boy Jamison, right? Wrong. Len Porter's dead and with him died the company man that his younges' son was. I do thangs fer me now, fer my own damned self. [Jack reaches into the flatbed of the truck and grabs a duffle bag, turning back around.] Porter: If this Parker thanks he's in fer an easy time o' thangs, he's sorely mistaken. I'm in the same damn position he's in, I gotta start from scratch in new surroundin's. New people, new ever'thang an' I sure as hell ain't innerested in helpin' his fledglin' career by one more selfless act on my part. It's time fer this son of a bitch ta start givin' a lil less an' start takin' a lil more. But I thank fer my firs' match in Lou-see-Anna in whut's gotta be seven years, I'll give something away one more time. A wrasslin' lesson, courtesy o' Suicide Jack. Yer welcome, amigo. [Oot.] DD: Heh, Parker is a dead man. JR: We'll see, we'll see. But first.. let's hear a few words from Jamie Roth! DD: Christ! You tried to sneak that past me! Didn't work! [Fade in to the exterior of the Grand Isle Marina. Jamie Roth is sitting on the hood of a dull, grey Chevy Impala. A pair of black headphones are clamped on his head as he sports a black "Queens of the Stone Age" t-shirt, khaki cargo shorts, and a pair of Adidas slippers. His short, spikey hair, formerly dark brown, is now bleached blonde. The camera lingers for a moment on Jamie headbanging, but trouble looms as the radiant -- but obviously irritated -- Angie comes on the scene.] A: Excuse me. [Jamie doesn't hear him. She taps his shoulder.] A: Ahem. [Stumbling as he quickly removes his headphones, Jamie's face turns into that of panic.] JR: Oh... uh... hey. A: What are you doing? JR: Nothing. [Angie just glares at Jamie. He shrugs.] A: Yeah, looks like it. I meant what are you doing with that fool, Jamison Parker? JR: C'mon, Ang', he's not a "fool" -- he's a good kid. I think if I teach him the ropes around here, he'll do just fine. A: He did just fine, alright. Got torn apart by Rembrandt last week just like you did. Yeah, he did fine. [Jamie rubs the back of his head, which is pointed towards the ground like a child that's being scolded. He says nothing. Angie moves in closer towards him, still with that frown on her face.] A: You need to nut up, Jamie. This bullshit nice guy act isn't getting you _anywhere_ in GIW. You gotta start cracking some skulls open... and, like, eat the brains that spill from the inside of it. [Jamie looks up at Angie with a dumbfounded expression.] JR: I hope you don't mean that literally... that's kinda nasty. A: Not as nasty as I'll get if you don't grow some balls and start kicking some ass around here. JR: Hrm... A: You know what to do, Jamie. In fact, I know you're thinking about it right now... so I'll leave you here to make your decision. [After a kiss on the cheek, Angie walks away from Jamie, whose head is bowed again. The camera lingers on him for a moment or two. Suddenly, Jamie sighs. He slowly looks up and glances beyond the camera. His face is now unfamiliar to us, although it remains the same. His eyes are just as foreign. Fade.] JR: Let's take it over to Antonio Hervez for the official introductions to our big opening contest. [Cut to drunken midget maestro Antonio Hervez who stands wavering in the ring with the cue card in his left hand.. the mic in his right. He speaks..] AH: Ladies an' gentlemen.. our opening contest ees scheduled for one fall.. with a feefteen meenute time leemit.. introducing first.. [The ominous beginning to CCR's "Run Through the Jungle" plays in the Marina as "Suicide" Jack Porter walks through the curtains. Dressed in blue trunks with a yellow stripe down each side, with kneepads, boots and wrist tape that are all white, as well as a blue denim vest and a black Stetson, Porter stands in the aisle for a minute, soaking up the atmosphere. Soon he begins to walk down the aisle, dodging the hands waving at him, slightly smiling to himself as he goes. Once in the ring, Jack shrugs off the vest and discards the hat, giving them to a ring attendant as he warms up.] AH: Een the ring at this time.. he weighs een tonight at 248 pounds and he hails from Corpus Christi, Texas.. here is.. "SUICIDE" JACK PORTER!!!!!!!!!!! [Somewhat heel pop! as Porter just glares towards the entranceway awaiting Jamison Parker.] AH: And his opponent.. he hails from Smithsburg, Maryland ... weighing in at 205 pounds ... JAMISON PARKER!!!!!!!! [Parker walks out from behind the curtain to quite a BIG face pop! He jaunts down to the ring sporting his black leg-length tights, black elbow and knee pads, white wrestling boots. He walks down to the ring without music, climbs the steps and steps between the ropes.. warming up as he awaits the bell.] ------------------------------------------------ Grand Isle Wrestling: Debut Singles Contest!!!! "Suicide" Jack Porter vs. Jamison Parker Written By: Andy Doran ------------------------------------------------ [DING!! DING!! DING!!] JR: Here we go, GIW's very own rookie Jamison Parker squaring off against newcomer Jack Porter and Jamison has come _very_ close in recent weeks to getting his first win. DD: What a dark goddamned day that would be, hopefully this Porter guy can put the beats to him. [Jack and Jamison meet in the center of the ring, engaging in a collar and elbow tieup. The veteran swiftly moves into a side headlock, and wrenches in on the move as he motions with his head for Eli Francois to check the rookie. When the ref does, Jack reaches over and grabs a handful of Parker's black hair, causing the rook to squirm and drawing a slight heel pop from the crowd!] DD: Hehehe, I'm liking this Porter already. I got ten on him to tie Parker in knots! JR: What a great debut for Jack Porter, not a minute into his debut and he's already playing dirty. DD: Not like Jamison can get out of it, or like Francois can even see it. [Oh but he does and Francois finally tells Porter to let go and the veteran obliges, but argues the point with Eli enough for Jamison to rush in and take Jack over with an armdrag!] JR: Armdrag from Jamison Parker! Another! Porter's back up and walks into a hiptoss! Another hiptoss from Parker and Suicide Jack ends up in the corner! DD: Sweet Jesus, wake up Jack! Don't let Parker get his first win! JR: In the corner now, the rookie sends Porter for the ride and rushes in afterward...monkey flip by Jamison Parker throws Jack Porter halfway across the ring! [BIG POP!] JR: You can literally see Jamison Parker get better each and every time he wrestles, and Jack Porter needs to take a breather. ["Suicide" Jack slides out of the ring and does indeed take a breather, taking a walk around the ringside area. He ignores the jeering fans and slides back into the ring, motioning for Parker to lockup.] JR: Jack Porter wants to try it again, motioning for a collar and elbow--oh! Kick to the gut from Porter, and another, now a hard right hand to the face backs Parker into the corner! DD: That's more like it Jack, beat his ass! JR: In the corner, Porter winds up... "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" DD: Damn Gina, what a chop! "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" JR: Two stinging chops by Jack Porter-- [POP!] JR: PARKER GRABS PORTER AND TURNS HIM INTO THE CORNER! "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" JR: JAMISON PARKER TAKING THE SKIN OFF OF JACK PORTER WITH SOME VICIOUS CHOPS OF HIS OWN! [HEEL POP!] DD: Booyah, good work Jack! Thumb to the eye works every time! [Porter grabs a headlock and sprints out of the corner, landing a bulldog! Porter brings Jamison right back up and locks on a side waistlock, bringing Parker up and dropping back with a belly to back suplex!] JR: Jack Porter appears to be in control now as he picks Jamison Parker up, and into a front chancery... "THUUUUD!" JR: Snap suplex from the veteran and he floats into a cover... ONE!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!! KICKOUT! Jamison Parker gets out of the pin in plenty of time! [POP!] JR: Back to a standing position, Jack Porter whips Jamison _hard_ to the corner! "KLAAAAAAAAACK!" [Parker hits backfirst and staggers out at Porter, who grabs Parker's wrist and twists underneath and when he straightens himself out... "THWAAAAAACK!" ...he unloads with a short-arm lariat that drops Parker like a rock! HEEL POP!] JR: What a lariat by the veteran from Corpus Christi! DD: Make that twenty on Porter. JR: "Suicide" Jack brings Jamison Parker to his feet and measures him...then levels him with a standing dropkick! Parker bounces into the ropes and staggers off, right into a discus pu--NO! Parker ducks the discus punch and takes down Porter with a drop toe hold! DD: Porter is so fast with that discus punch, he can hit it before God finds out. JR: But Parker ducked it and is better off for it. Back up, Jamison shoots Porter to the ropes...Japanese armdrag! Nice move by Parker! [Jamison gets to his feet quickly and bounces off the ropes, leaping at the rising Porter and rifling a flying forearm to the head of Jack, knocking him back down! POP! Both men pop back up and Parker strikes first, placing his head underneath the chin of Jack and dropping in a jawbreaker. Another POP!] JR: Parker's on fire here! Porter's up, Jamison with a superki-NO! PORTER DUCKED THE SUPERKICK! Jack swings with a lariat, Jamison ducks that and grabs Porter's head...swinging neckbreaker! Parker off the ropes...legdrop to the throat! DD: What the hell is going on here, Parker's in control of this match! This sheeit is gonna screw up business! JR: Back up, Jamison with a headlock takeover and now... [POP from the crowd as Jamison chuckles to himself.] DD: Hey! What the hell is Boy Scout doing? That's illegal! JR: Hehehe, Jamison gives Porter a bit of his own medicine and pulls Jack's hair to the dismay of "Suicide" Jack, who promptly fights back to his feet. OH! Elbow to the ribs by Porter! And again! Now Jack grabs Parker around the waist, lift for a suplex--PARKER FLIPS OUT OF IT! SCHOOLBOY! ONE!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!! KICKOUT! CLOSE CALL BY JAMISON PARKER! [POP!] JR: Back up, Parker with the headlock again but Jack pushes him to the opposite ropes...back off, powerslam by Porter! Cover! ONE!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!! T-KICKOUT AGAIN BY JAMISON! [POP!] DD: Dammit boy, you're screwing up the rotation. Just stay down. JR: Jack Porter pulls Parker to his feet and rifles in a right hand, and another! "Suicide" Jack whips Parker to the far ropes... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!" DD: That's more like it! JR: Spinning spinebuster by Porter, who's just now starting to get his head together. Back up, he hooks a front chancery and grabs the near leg...Fisherman's suplex! Here's the cover! ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!! T-KICKOUT AGAIN BY PARKER! [Resiliency POP!] JR: Jack Porter is starting to rattle off some impressive pinning sequences, but Jamison Parker is resilient, as we all know. DD: Yeah, and it's really starting to piss me off. [The veteran gets back to his feet and scoops up a rising Jamison Parker, dropping him with a bodyslam and then immediately racing to the ropes and hitting a legdrop across the windpipe. Neglecting the pin, Porter brings the rookie to his feet and whips him again to the ropes, catching him as he bounces off and twisting him into a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! HEEL POP!] JR: Porter's definitely in control here and seems to be stringing Parker along, trying to work out the kinks. DD: Apparently Jack's had some trouble finding work, so it's been a while since he's set foot in a decent wrestling ring. Besides torturing the punk, he's also working himself back into shape. JR: This is true, Dirk. Back up, Porter whips Jamison to the far ropes again and catches him, dropping him into a hotshot! Porter hooks Jamison from behind, picks him up...and atomic drops him into the corner! "WHAAACK!" DD: Hehehe, and Parker hits the turnbuckle headfirst in the corner and staggers back out, into Porter's clutches! "WHAAAACK!" JR: Another atomic drop into the corner and Parker hits headfirst again! ["Suicide" Jack doesn't go with the atomic drop motif again, instead bouncing off the far rope and jumping at Parker with a high cross body block.] [BIG FACE POP!] JR: JAMISON ROLLS THROUGH THE HIGH CROSS BODY! PIN! ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! T-KICKOUT BY PORTER, AND THAT WAS CLOSE! [POP for Parker!] JR: Jamison Parker's resiliency is off the charts, he's taking everything Porter has to give! DD: Yeah, but that's all gonna end real soon. [Porter beats Jamison back to a standing position and when Parker gets to his feet he's greeted with a kick to the gut and a forearm to the back. Porter applies a vertical headscissors and lifts Jamison for a powerbomb, but the rookie fights it and balances himself on Jack's shoulders, raining punches down on Porter's head to a BIG POP!] JR: JAMISON'S FIGHTING OFF THE POWERBOMB AND NOW SLIPS DOWN IN FRONT OF "SUICIDE" JACK! HE SAVED HIMSELF THERE! [Parker whips the veteran to the ropes, but Porter reverses it and sends Jamison for the ride, backing up near the ropes...and when Parker comes bounding off the other side... "CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!" ...Jack backdrops him out of the ring and headfirst to the Marina floor! BIG HEEL POP!] JR: JAMISON PARKER TOOK A HEADER TO THE OUTSIDE! JACK PORTER LAUNCHED PARKER OUT OF THE RING AND THE ROOKIE IS SLOOOOOW TO GET UP! DD: I give him a nine point four on the delivery and a perfect ten on the landing. But the Russian judge says only nine point eight! JR: Goddamn commies. DD: JAKE! [Porter turns around and spots the downed rookie on the outside and steps out to the apron, eyeing Jamison the whole way. Walking down the apron, he climbs onto the second turnbuckle and turns toward Parker, raising his right hand to a BLOODTHIRSTY POP from the cynical assholes in attendance who'd like nothing more than to see a greenhorn get squished on the concrete.] JR: Jack Porter's on those turnbuckles, getting ready to live up to his moniker! DD: He jumps! "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDD!!!" [BIG HEEL POP!] JR: HE HIT THE ELBOW TO THE FLOOR! JAMISON PARKER TOOK THE FULL FORCE OF THAT MOVE! DD: KICK-ASS! PORTER'S MY NEW HERO FOR THE MOMENT! JR: Porter rolls to his feet and brings Jamison up, scooping the rookie up... "CLAAAAAAAAANG!" JR: And dropping him throat first across the barricade! [Parker clutches at his throat as Porter grabs him by his tights, slinging him into the ring and then hopping onto the apron. The newcomer climbs up to the top rope and waits as Parker gets to his feet...then jumps off.... BIG FACE POP!] JR: PORTER WENT FOR THE DOUBLE AXE HANDLE OFF THE TOP ROPE, BUT PARKER COUNTERED WITH A FIST TO THE BREADBASKET! PORTER FLIPPED OVER FROM THE IMPACT! DD: I hate this punk bitch! JR: Parker is shaking the cobwebs out but Porter's back to his feet! Whip to the ropes, flapjack by Porter--PARKER WITH A DROPKICK AT THE HEIGHT OF THE MOVE! HE TAGGED JACK RIGHT IN THE FACE! [That puts "Suicide" Jack down for a moment, enough time for Parker to get his wits about him and measure up the veteran...] "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" [HUGE FACE POP!] JR: SUPERKICK! PARKER GOT IT ALL WITH THAT ONE! HE PICKS PORTER OFF THE MAT AND SENDS HIM FOR THE RIDE... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!" [POP!] JR: POWERPLANT SPINEBUSTER! Right out of the Kauffman playbook! DD: Which makes me sick to my stomach everytime that's mentioned on this program. JR: Cover by Jamison! ONE!!!! TWO!!!!!!! TH-KICKOUT FROM THE SPINEBUSTER!! [Heel pop!] DD: Not like that move has ever worked before. JR: Jamison's back up, into a rear waistlock... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!" JR: GERMAN SUPLEX! [POP!] DD: Son of a...he landed that just right, Porter landed right on his head! JR: Parker's not covering, he's going to the top rope! DD: That may end up biting him in the ass. JR: Jack Porter is back to his feet...missile dropkick! _Now_ Jamison covers! ONE!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!! THR-KICKOUT! PORTER KICKED OUT OF THE MISSILE DROPKICK, BUT JAMISON PARKER IS RUNNING THE TABLE! [POP!] JR: Back up, Parker with the front chancery...snap suplex! Now an elbow drop to Porter's jaw and Jamison is going back up again... [Climbing from inside the ring, Jamison gets to the top rope rather quickly and looks out, taking a deep breathe...and then jumps off, flipping back with high moonsault that has a ton of air under it and hits...right...on...the...money! ENORMOUS FACE POP!] DD: NO, NO, NO! JR: MOONSAULT BY JAMISON PARKER! COULD IT BE?!?! ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!! THR-PORTER GETS A SHOULDER UP! [HUGE disappointment pop!] DD: Jesus God, I need some Maalox. JR: This entire venue is rooting for Jamison Parker! They want to see him get the win right here tonight! DD: Well I sure as hell don't! [Parker gets back to his feet and knees Jack in the gut, hooking a front facelock and spinning for a neckbreaker...but "Suicide" Jack spins right with it and both guys end up back in a standing position, Jamison looking momentarily puzzled...which is all the time Porter needs. "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKK!!" HUGE HEEL POP!] DD: YES! JR: DISCUS PUNCH FROM OUT OF NOWHERE! HE DRILLED THE ROOKIE! ONE!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! THREE?! [...] JR: NOOOOOO!!!! JAMISON PARKER GETS HIS FOOT ON THE ROPE! GREAT PRESENCE OF MIND BY THE ROOKIE! DD: Okay Jack, stop screwing around. Put this one away! JR: Porter brings Parker up to his feet, into a vertical headscissors...he lifts for the powerbomb... [INCREDIBLE FACE POP!] JR: HURRICANRANA! PARKER HURRICANRANA'D OUT OF THE POWERBOMB, AND HE HOOKS THE LEG OF PORTER INTO A PINNING PREDICAMENT! ONE!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!! THREE!!!!!!!! [EARTHQUAKE FACE POP!!] JR: JAMISON WINS! JAMISON WINS! HE REVERSED THE POWERBOMB INTO A CRADLE PIN, WINNING HIS FIRST MA- DD: No, pay attention! Porter _just_ kicked out, but old ass Francois counted three anyway! [This doesn't stop Parker from celebrating like he just won the lottery, jumping onto the turnbuckles and raising his arms to an ecstatic crowd, who are only too happy to celebrate with him. He doesn't even stop when Eli Francois turns him around and tells him the bad news, which gets a resounding HEEL POP!] JR: Jamison Parker thinks he's won this matchup and he may well have, but Eli Francois is telling him right now that Jack Porter kicked out at the last possible moment. DD: Turn around Parker, turn around...! "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCKKKKK!!" [Jamison does indeed turn around from arguing with Eli and gets a second discus punch to the noggin! HEEL POP! Instead of covering, Porter brings a dazed Jamison to his feet and locks in a front chancery, then lifts him up as if for a brainbuster...but instead of dropping, Jack lets the rookie fall towards the mat and DDT's him as he falls! HEEL POP!] JR: Dead Man's Hand! That's what he calls that move! Cover! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!! [DING!! DING!! DING!!] AH: The winner of the match.. "SUICIDE" JACK PORTER!!!!!!! [HEEL POP!!!!] DD: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PARKER LOST AGAIN!! TODAY RULES!! JR: What a sham! Poor Eli made a slight mistake, and it cost the youngster.. the kid I feel has a big business in this future.. a damn shame! DD: Hey! Why don't you give Porter some damn credit, he looked nasty and ruthless out there tonight.. JR: That he did, that he did. DD: Porter has a big future in this company. JR: Quite possibly he does. Fans, right now we've got something we must show you that really, really saddens me.. DD: Oh, this rules! JR: Just roll the tape. [The grainy, shaky, and most likely unprofessional camera shot comes to the outside of the brick rowhome house of former GIW Television Champion, City Jack. How does one know this? Well, CJ's right there in front of the house, along with a couple of movers, helping them move some boxes into a big van. Jack's looking very immobile - still feeling the effects from the match at NiNO. In fact, his right arm's still in a caste, propped up in a sling. Then, whoever's taping, starts up in a whisper.] Man: Yeah, that's him! That's City Jack. Got to be him. [The camera zooms in a bit on Jack, who's looking very tired and not with a smile at all as he sets himself down on the nearby stoop to wipe his brow from sweat. The camera's mic can pick up what's going on, but somewhat faintly.] CJ: Whoo, it's a... [Static sounds.] CJ: ... I tell you boys. If yo'all want a drink or something to refresh you selves? I sure do know this big body needs some. [The movers look at each other and nod, prompting CJ to get up and go inside his home while the movers wait.] Mover1: Geez, this guy's got a lot of junk. This could take us the whole afternoon, maybe even the night! Mover2: Na, he said he's leaving some stuff here he doesn't need. I think he said something like that most of the stuff reminds of him his... uh, career - Oh! Wrestling, that's it. [The first mover takes out a cigarette, lights it up and takes a puff or two.] Mover1: Oh, right. He's, uh, wrestler down in the city, right? Mover2: Na, at the Marina. But when I was talking to him this morning, he said that's all over for him now since... [More static from the camera, along with some breaks in the picture. When the shot comes back up, City Jack's just coming out of the row home with a couple of cans in his hands.] CJ: Here you'll go there, sirs. You drink it all up and then we'll get the rest o' this boxes up and out. Too blazin' up here now, I know that... [Jack opens his can and takes a guzzle of the drink.] CJ: I jus' can't wait on-tel I get out of here and put all this place behind me. It'll be a hard one, I say, but once I'm through here, it's all going be better. Just got to heal up a bit and... [The picture goes out again, and whomever's filming can be heard cursing a bit as he tries to adjust the camera again... but the shot gets cut and blacks out.] DD: YES!! YES!! YES!! GONE FOREVER!! GOOD RIDDANCE! JR: Dirk! This man was a consummate professional, a real good man, and one helluva wrestler who helped put this company on the right track to success. Don't you go defaming him like that! DD: Jeez, sorry. JR: You should be. I for one must say to City Jack if he's watching.. we completely appreciate all you did for the Grand Isle and we hope someday you'll come back and give these fans what they have been hoping for since the Nightmare.. somebody to look up to in this business. DD: Lame. JR: Whatever. Fans.. up next we've got a duo who had tagged a few times and now they are on opposite ends of the spectrum. Let's hear what both men had to say about tonight's big showdown! DD: CLASSY! [The camera opens in on the Sand Dollar Marina ... it's a decent day outside, with clear skies overhead. People slowly make their way into the building, two or three at a time, but nobody seems to be in much of a hurry. All of a sudden, the camera catches view of a man who many of the fans recognize right away as he walks toward the cargo stationing area that makes up the arena. Who is this man, you ask?] Young Fan: "Dane Levine sucks!" [You guessed it. The self-proclaimed 'One Man Dynasty', Dane Levine. As he walks passed the fan who called out to him, the camera barely catches him raising a finger at him, though not a clear shot of which finger he used. Most of us can use our imagination. He's dressed in street clothes at the moment, blue jeans, white t-shirt ... nothing too fancy. But the gold chains and the standard smug look he has on his face all the time gives him away immediately. Over his shoulder is a black gym back, the contests of which are most likely his wrestling gear. Following behind Levine is Cassandra Davis, who is also dressed casually, wearing a red sleeveless top that hugs to her form and a pair of black slacks that give her a slightly professional look. A few fans whistle and shout out cat calls, but she ignores them completely, her focus on an apparently irate Dane Levine.] CD: "Dane, what's wrong? Why won't you talk to me?" DDL: "I said it doesn't matter! Quit pestering me!" CD: "There has to be something I can do to help, though." [Levine stops abruptly, causing Cassie to stumble a bit as she tries to put on the brake as well.] DDL: "Yeah. There is. Shut up." [Cassie blinks for a moment and then suddenly lashes out and slaps Levine right across the face, which sends him staggering a bit. Levine gets wide-eyed at Cassie, who immediately backs away as though she's afraid of what he's going to do.] DDL: [sighing] "Alright, fine. But I don't want to talk about it out here. C'mon." [Cassie nods her head, obviously regretting what she just did. Levine leads her into the 'arena' and then pulls her off to the side of the entrance, so that the fans coming into the building won't be able to interrupt their conversation.] DDL: "Listen, Cass ... I'm sorry for snappin' at you. I'm just frustrated after last week. I can't stop thinkin' about it. My first singles match in the GIW and I blow it. Against a frickin' rookie, for Christ's sake. How do you think it feels to lose to someone called Billy Rock?" CD: [shrugs her shoulders] "I don't know ..." DDL: "That's right, you don't. You didn't have to lose to him. Well, I'll tell you right now, it feels pretty damn bad. I've got twice the talent that kid has and yet, he gets a lucky ass win. I just don't get it." CD: "Don't worry about it so much, Dane ... it's just one loss. You have your whole career ahead of you ... you can't let a minor setback get under your skin." [Levine rolls his eyes with a shake of his head.] DDL: "Don't worry? Just one loss? But I _do_ worry ... 'cause now I have to take it to Kenny Lane. Someone I actually have a little respect for in this business. I need this win tonight, Cass. I need to prove that I'm the singles wrestler I say I am. That there's nobody in the GIW better than Dane Levine. Even if the win has to come out of defeating Kenny Lane." CD: [smiling] "Well, that's a pretty easy point to get across, Dane. There's nobody better than you." DDL: "You just don't get it, do ya? Before those words can ever mean anything, I've got to show everyone that I mean business. That I'm not just here to be the best looking wrestler or the most charismatic ... but that I'm also the most talented wrestler that GIW has to offer. And the only way I can show them ... is by beating a man I don't want to beat." [Levine sighs, taking a moment to collect his thoughts as he presses the palms of his hands against his forehead in frustration.] DDL: "It's just a lot to think about right now, Cass. Sorry if it seemed like I was taking it over on you. It's nothing personal, alright?" [Cassie nods her head slowly.] CD: "Sorry, Dane ... I had no idea you were going through so much right now. I should have been more understanding." [she pauses] "You should go get ready for your match." [Nodding his head once, Levine turns to leave ... but Cassie puts her hand on his shoulder, making him turn back around with an eyebrow arched slightly as if to ask her what she wants. But without saying anything, she simply leans forward and places a kiss on Dane Levine's cheek with a smile.] CD: "Good luck tonight, Dane. If you need any encouragement, just remember that I'm always right there in your corner." [Levine stares at her blankly for a moment and then a smile slowly creeps across his lips. Giving her a quick nod, he runs his index finger underneath her chin affectionately as he turns away from her and walks away from the camera, into the arena. Cassie watches him leave with a smile on her face as we slowly fade to black.] [Scene: We open up to a shot backstage, where we see one classy mofo, that hero of the Isle, "CLASSY~!" Kendrick Lane...standing in front of a water fountain. Yes, he's cutting a promo in front of a water fountain...what's it to you?] KL: This week, Lane-iacs, your Classiah faces an opponent unlike any other! A man who may very well rival yours truely in grace, style, and class. Yes, it's my old tag partner, Dane Levine! [He chuckles.] KL: On the surface, it seems that 'ole Dane just might have my number. That he may be the one that can dethrone me from my rightful place as the Grand Isle's one true inspiration of Kendrickian excellance! However... [Kendrick grins.] KL: Dane just falls short in *so* many ways. [He frowns.] KL: On the surface, we seemed to be a perfect pairing. But the sad truth is if you're comparing me to Dane, you might as well be comparing me with the poverty stricken son of a crippled Mongolian acrobat. [Lane chuckles nervously.] KL: Not that there's anything wrong with that. [He sighs happily.] KL: I mean, sure, we have a lot in common. Dane's a pretty decent guy. He matches up pretty well with my unparalleled greatness...for a plagiarist bastard devoid of any originality who has to resort to stealing my whole persona... [He trails off.] KL: But still, that's pretty darn impressive, folks! [Kendrick stares off into the great wide...somewhere, stroking his goatee.] KL: Despite that, Dane's missing that one component that'll put him on the same pedestal of immortality that your Classiah stands upon. That one special little thing that separates the Kendrick's of the world from the Ganz's. You see, while I have to respect what Dane brings to the table, I still outshine him! My star burns brighter than any saline-laden slut that Levine could ever bring to the ring with him! [He strikes a finger into the air as a look of determination...or really bad acting appears on his face.] KL: In a word, the simple reason why Dane will not, cannot, and shall not defeat me and claim my ten thousand dollar prize? Well, face it. The man's a dynasty. [He smiles deviously.] KL: Dynasties eventually all end in brutal, bloody, tragic ways. [Kendrick then sticks a thumb towards his chest.] KL: But, I'm Kendrick Lane! And Lane-iacs? I will *always* and *forever* shall be... [Dramatic pause.] KL: ...CLASSY~! [Fade out.] DD: CLASSY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JR: Good goddamn lord. DD: Don't say that. JR: Fans, before we take you over to Hervez. I hear we have somebody in the back.. let's take you to that now. [In.] [A young boy's voice greets us, a high pitched squeal of excitement. Bobby, son of GIW's own Robert Kellan, sits on a corner bench, playing with his toys, speaking at the same time.] BOBBY: And then I saw this lady with pictures on her body and she was mean and that nurse woman that... [His mother turns, cutting him off mid sentence.] LK: Please, Bobby, play with your toys, your daddy and I are trying to talk. [And he does just that, perhaps a bit dejected, turning back to smash his toys together in meaningless fashion as young boys do. It is then that the full scene comes to focus. Bobby playing in the corner of a locker room. Taping his wrists across the room is his father, the looming figure of Robert Kellan standing over his petite... and beautiful wife, Lydia. Dressed in jeans and a GIW t-shirt she looks concerned, a common occurrence these days, as she speaks to her husband.] LK: Did we really have to bring Bobby, especially on a day like today? [Kellan continues taping, replying but not looking towards her.] RK: Don't worry, hon. He'll be fine, besides, nothing's going to happen. LK: Nothing... is going to happen. You're facing Scrayper and nothing's going to happen. You and that big guy... RK: Nelson. [A frank interruption.] LK(annoyed): Nelson beat the crap out of each other last week and you think nothing is going to happen? I wonder if Russ told his family that before he went and had his career ended. [Robert smiles, chuckling under his breath as he finishes one hand, clenching and unclenching his fist to assure it is a job well done.] RK: Actually, I hear Russ is up in Can... LK(interrupting): Listen Rob, let me take him away for this show. We'll go shopping or something and I can be back in time to be here after. [Sighing Robert throws the roll of tape onto his equipment bag, grabbing his wife by the hand and leading her towards the door... but not before stopping to address his busy at play son.] RK: Bobby... me and Mommy... LK(interrupting... again): Mommy and I. RK(chuckling): Mommy _and_ I have to go talk in private. Can you stay here and play with your toys? If you are good maybe Daddy will go bug Mash to let you wear his mask. [Bobby, ever the angel, sits playing with his toys, not even looking up towards his father as he answers.] BOBBY: Yes, Daddy. [Robert and Lydia, mother and father, smile as they watch their son at play. The two quickly usher themselves into an empty hallway, talking in hushed tones. Hushed... but full of direction.] RK: Listen, hon. You know what this business is all about. Things happen, people get hurt, it's part of the business. You don't think Bobby has seen it all? LK: But he's never seen his father-- [He interrupts, his tone a bit more harsh, perhaps questioning, but not venomous in the least.] RK: Get hurt? He's never seen his father hurt like some of the guys around here have been? LK: Well... yeah. RK: Well he won't be. I don't plan on jumping through barbwire and panes of glass and all that crap. I got a wife and... [He looks down at her face, smiling] ..family to take care of. How am I supposed to put food on the table and clothes on our backs if I wreck this pretty face of mine? [Smirking, he clenches her hand lovingly.] RK: I can take care of myself, you know that. You also know I am not going to sit around and let some jackass bully me around because he's seven feet tall and kills people. I am not going to let some freaked out masked guy scare me because he has some social problem and tried to kill his manager. I can take of myself, you know Mash is always around looking out for me... it's a risk you knew about when we got into this. I don't hear any objections from you about me doing this... LK: But you have. You know I hate this sometimes. You know I wish you had a normal job like all our friends. [Shaking his head, the massive Kellan looks dejected, his smile disappearing.] RK: I could. But then I wouldn't be doing what I love doing, would I? Don't get me wrong, hon, I love working down at the Station. I love being a firefighter in between doing this. But _this_... [He taps his chest with one free hand.] ...this is what I want to do. This is how I want to feed you. This is how I want to support our family. I _love_ doing this, as much as anything. Hell... I run into burning buildings and work around fire and you think this is dangerous? [She sighs, standing up on her tip toes to kiss her husband. She lets her lips linger before walking back towards the door, stopping right before she turns the door handle.] LK: I hope you're right, Tiger, I really do. It's impossible to pay the bills from a hospital bed. [She enters the room, faking a smile for the sake of her son, leaving Kellan to slump against a wall, sighing a deep sigh as he stares into the distance...] [At nothing...] [Deep in thought...] [Out.] DD: I think somebody better tell Robert and Lydia. JR: Tell them what? DD: That their son is definitely autistic. JR: DIRK! DD: Oh c'mon! Is it not obvious?! JR: [just sighs] My bad.. fans.. let's send it over to Hervez for the official introductions to our match! [Cut to Hervez.] AH: Ladies an' gentlemen.. our next contest ees scheduled for one fall.. with a feefteen meenute time leemit.. introducing first.. [A voice rings over the PA system...] Voice: "CLA...CLA...CLA...CLASSY~!" [And with that, "Lowrider" by WAR begins to play as we see "CLASSY~!" Kendrick Lane slowly strutting his way out from behind the curtains. He's wearing a feathered fedora hat along with a sleeveless red sequined robe over his wrestling attire. Bobbing his head to the beat of the song in a completely unrhythmic sort of way, he begins to shake his shoulders and points his fingers furiously as the trumpets blare, grooving towards the ring in a bizarre and foolish looking sort of strut. The crowd begins to boo, because...hell, he looks like a damned fool.] #Take a little trip...# #Take a little trip...# #Take a little trip with meeeee...# AH: He weighs in tonight at 258 pounds.. and he hails from Syracuse, New York.. here is.. "CLASSY" KENDRICK LANE!!!!!!! [As if he didn't look stupid enough already, Lane stops in front of the ring apron to sing along with his own theme music. With each chorus, he points to a section of the crowd...whom begin to throw bottles and such at him. He pulls off his robe and hands it to the ringside attendant, whips off his hat, and leaps onto the ring apron, where he...strikes a pose. He steps through the ring ropes and struts around the ring some more, snapping his fingers to the beat as the song mercifully...ends.] AH: And his opponent.. [P.O.D.'s "Boom" hits the arena and the crowd immediately erupts into a loud chorus of disrespect for the man they know is coming out. And sure enough, there he is ... GIW's resident ego trip, "Dynasty" Dane Levine, with Cassandra Davis latched onto his arm, a smile on her pretty face as usual.] AH: He is accompanied to the ring by the lovely Cassandra Davis [POP!!].. he weighs in tonight at 247 pounds.. and he hails from Saint Louis, Missouri.. here is.. "DYNASTY" DANE LEVINE!!!!!! [Big heel Pop! for Levine, who is of fairly average height for someone in his profession, but has a very well-chiseled build that's just about as perfect as anyone could ever want without being grotesque. He has short black hair that's spiked up just slightly, though not so much as to be considered a crew cut. He wears a pair of small rectangular sunglasses that rest on the bridge of his nose, but he makes certain everyone can still see the pair of bright green eyes that lie behind the sunglasses. He wears a pair of red tights with the word "Dynasty" written on his ass in black and a pair of black boots with red shin guards and knee pads. Cassandra wears a black leather strapless top that covers from underneath her arms down to her ribs, leaving her midriff bare and a pair of black leather pants that hug tightly to her hips, but curve down in the front and back to be a bit more revealing without showing too much of either side. She wears a pair of black somewhat platform style shoes on her feet that give her a couple more inches to her height.] [Walking up the steps, Levine sits on the middle rope to allow Cassandra to enter the ring, which gets a good reaction from the male portion of the crowd as she bends over. Levine then hops through the ropes himself and then stands on the middle of the ropes as he outstretches his arms to the crowd to incite a reaction. Most of the women cheer, but everyone else boos him relentlessly. He yells something out to them that probably isn't very kind and then asks for a microphone. Looking across the ring to Kendrick Lane, Levine offers the man a flashy grin as he begins to speak.] DDL: "Kenny, my man ... I'd rather not have to fight you, since I have a certain amount of respect for you. But look on the bright side. At least we know we'll give each other a good match. Two superstars such as ourselves should be able to show the everyone in the back what a real competition looks like. Don't hold anything back ... and may the best man win." [Levine extends his hand to Lane, who nods his head in agreement and accepts his hand, shaking it in the middle of the ring. Some people in the audience clap for the show of sportsmanship ... that is, until Lane sorta flicks him off and awaits the bell!!] [DING!! DING!! DING!!] ------------------------------------------- Grand Isle Wrestling: Singles Contest!!!!! Dane Levine vs. Kendrick Lane Written By: John Lovecock.. err, Eibach ------------------------------------------- [DING! DING! DING!] JR: There's the bell, and this one is just about to get underway. These two men teamed up just a few weeks back at The Nightmare in New Orleans, and came up successful against the duo of "The Deathdealer" Tommy Ganz and Phoenix Stephens. DD: And it's a travesty that they are being forced to go head to head here tonight. But when there is money at stake .. well .. ya gotta do what you gotta do. JR: And tell me Dirk, will Dane Levine do it tonight? DD: Don't know. You'll have to ask Two-Tooth Betsy .. Finest ringrat this side of the bayou. JR: Huh? DD: You said do it. JR: Yeah? DD: You know. Do it. Is he gonna do it? Ah, screw ya! [With the bell having already sounded, the two men make their way towards the center of the ring, exchanging a few words. The conversation doesn't seem to be too heated, as a comment made by Levine causes Lane to smirk a little, and Lane turns around and leaps to the second rope - thrusting both arms into the air, to loud jeers from the Louisiana crowd.] JR: These fans letting "The Classy~! One" know exactly what they think of him. DD: Talk about disrespect. JR: Do you think he actually expected cheers? [Stiffling a bit of a laugh, Levine points at Lane and mouths the words "Watch this" before leaping up onto the ropes and throwing his arms into the air .. also not getting the warmest of responses from the fans.] JR: What is this? An unpopularity contest? [Also looking a bit surprised, Levine shakes his head and makes a gesture towards the crowd that doesn't aid in his popularity points. Meanwhile Lane snickers a bit, before charging the ropes. As he rebounds off the strands he breaks into a bit of a strut and then spins around with a DOUBLE BICEP FLEX! And the reaction? You guessed it. HEEL POP!] JR: Is this a wrestling match, or a joke? Come on somebody go for a hol- NEVERMIND! Levine charging Lane from behind and catching him with a Rolling Prawn Hold! Referee Eli Francois drops to make the count... ONE TWO [And cursing quite audibly, Kendrick Lane kicks out of the roll-up and forces Dane Levine across the ring and into the ropes. As the St. Louis native comes rebounding off the strands, a sneering Kendrick Lane leaps to his feet and attempts to take him down to the canvas with a hiptoss.] DD: Hiptoss by Kendrick La - NO! Levine flipped through with it and landed on his feet and now leaps into the air, kicking backwards and catching "The Classy~! One" right in the mush with his boot! Levine to the strands one more time and Kendrick to a vertical base. JR: Kendrick Lane leapfrogging over Levine, who stops directly behind Lane and OH! Deliberate kick right to the groin of the man from Syracuse! Lane doubled over in agony ... DD: Wouldn't you be? JR: ... and Levine grabbing a handful of Lane's hair and driving his face down and into the canvas. [Getting back to his feet once more, Dane is surprised by a small smattering of applause through the arena for his tactics. Looking around, and going for a full fledged pop, Levine leaps onto the second rope and arches backwards beautifully with a second rope moonsault.] JR: Levine sailing through the air - but Lane rolls out of the way aaaand ... DD: Levine lands on his feet! Lane has no idea, and turns around as Levine charges in and Kendrick ducks! Levine sent through the air and backdropped out to the concrete with a thud! JR: Kendrick Lane getting out of harms way at the last possible second, and now moving to the apron of the ring - taunting Levine and begging for him to get up. [Slowly, Levine complies with the request of "CLASSY~!" Kendrick Lane, getting to his feet. Trying to shake out the cobwebs, he spins around to find Lane leaping off the ring apron with a not-so-pretty shoulder block that bring both men to the floor one more time.] DD: A Classy~! looking shoulder block from Kendrick Lane, who now is back to his feet and rollins Dane Levine into the squared circle. JR: For Kendrick, that is a high risk maneuver .. but it seemed to have paid off this time out. Lane now pulling Levine to his feet and whipping him into the corner hard! Lane now taking his time following Levine in, and mounting the second rope for some punches ... ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! [Lane stops for a few seconds to give a rather unwelcome pelvic thrust to the forehead of Dane Levine. Not sure why, but it gave Levine time to slip his arms around the legs of Kendrick Lane and carry him away from the ropes in powerbomb position. Quickly Levine starts to charge across the ring, but The Classy~! One, shifts his weight and rolls down over the back of Levine with a sunset flip.] DD: Lane with a pin on Levine! Referee Francois dropping for the count! ONE! TW- JR: NO! Dane Levine forces himself forward and sits on Lane's chest for a cover of his own! ONE! TWO! DD: NO! Lane again with a sunset flip pin attempt .. but Levine rolls through and to his feet. What's this? Levine now trying to turn Lane over into a Boston Crab? JR: But Kendrick quickly goes for a push-up and forces Levine into the ropes one more time. Levine now rebounding, and it looks like Lane forgot where Levine is as he's looking in the wrong direction! Levine with a DROPKICK!!! [Nope! Kendrick Lane merely takes a step backwards, and Dane Levine finds himself landing on the back of his head in the middle of the ring. Quickly Kendrick seizes the legs of his opponent and begins to spin around in circles ... forcing the crowd into a ... HOLY SHIT SOMEBODY ACTUALLY USES THE GIANT SWING POP!] DD: Holy shit! Somebody actually uses the giant swing? JR: That' seems to be the concensus of these fans as well, as Lane spins round and around and around ... ... and around and around and around ... ... and around and around and around one more time before letting go and throwing Dane Levine to the canvas. But the old school maneuver is not without it's costs, as Lane staggers around a bit and doesn't see Dane Levine getting to his feet much quicker than anticipated.] JR: It looks like that move took more of Lane than Levi - SMALL PACKAGE! ONE! TWO! THRE- JR: And Kendrick Lane kicks out with just seconds to spare! Lane now rolling to the outside of the ring and trying to regain his sense, as he still appears to be a bit dizzy. But the same can't be said for Levine, who has already hit the ropes and is charging across the riiiing ... [FLASHBULBS!!] [Getting a full head of steam, the man from Missouri comes flying across the ring and leaps - clearing the top rope and taking out The Classy~! One with a front somersault body press.] DD: FEARLESS! JR: Simon Bach is here? DD: No! And I'm the one who is supposed to make the stupid jokes Jake. Both men now on the floor sucking wind. It looks like when Lane landed the body press, he overshot a bit and nailed his back against the guardrail. But none-the-less, he is fighting his way back to his feet and rolling Kendrick Lane into the squared circle as well. JR: Levine is the first to get to his feet, and he meets Lane with a few European Uppercuts that stagger him back into the corner. T H W A C K ! ! ! Fans: WOOOOOOOOO! DD: Knife edge chops now being dealt out by Dane Levine. T H W A C K ! ! ! Fans: WOOOOOOOOO! [But the expression on the face of Kendrick Lane tells the whole story .. it is one of excruciating pain, as he clutches his chest and doubles over. Not giving him a second to recover though, Levine takes the arm of Lane and goes to whip him across the ring, but Lane drops to his knee and reverses the attempt and it is Levine who hits the buckles.] C L A N K ! ! ! JR: What an Irish whip! I'm surprised Levine or the ring post didn't snap in half from the impact of that. Levine now staggering out of the corner - SPINNING SPINEBUSTER BY LANE!!!!! T H U D ! ! ! DD: Kendrick Lane hooks the leg! ONE! TWO! THREE! [DING! DING! DING!] [And almost immediately the sound of "Lowrider" fills the arena] JR: That's it! This one is over, and Kendrick Lane gets the wi- [As "Lowrider" fades out again, a red faced Eli Francois can be seen waving off the timekeeper, and emphatically holding up two fingers as the shoulder of Levine is off of the canvas. Kendrick Lane however looks just as angry as Eli Francois ... only his anger is directed at the official, who he is giving a severe tongue lashing.] DD: Kendrick Lane thinks he had the pin. JR: Well do did I. So did the time keeper. So did all of these fans. But Referee Eli Francois says that it didn't happ .. OH! You do NOT shove a referee! [Sneering angrily, Kendrick Lane shoves the official a second time back into the ropes. Shaking his head Eli Francois shoves Lane backwards just as Dane Levine gets to his feet. Pointing a finger of warning at the referee, Lane spins around just in time to be introduced to the sole of Dane Levine's wrestling boot.] DD: SUPERKICK!!!!! All impact, and all on the back! JR: Levine quickly dropping on top of Lane! ONE! TWO! THREE! DD: FAST COUNT!!! JR: Was it? DD: No question about it! [DING! DING! DING!] AH: The winner of the match.. and the winner of TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS.. "DYNASTY DANE LEVINE!!!!!!!!!!!!! JR: Well Eli Francois doesn't seem to think so. Maybe Kendrick shouldn't have pushed him in the first place. DD: I don't know WHAT the reasoning is, but Kendrick Lane just got royally screwed! JR: Perhaps. DD: And Levine is going nuts! I think he thinks he's just won ten thousand dollars! JR: Lane sliding out of the ring and just shaking his head to say "Riiiiiight." But Levine doesn't care.. he's acting like he's just won the goddamn.. DD: Olympics. JR: Exactly! [And that he is.. after forcing Eli to hold his arm up an exorbinent amount of time.. he begs Cassandra to get into the ring.. as she does so the Cat Calls mix in with the booes as he hoists her onto his shoulders!] [Heel Pop!!] JR: Good.. god. DD: He's parading his lady around the ring! JR: I think I'm going to be sick! DD: Sick with envy! JR: Fans, try to stay with us here as Dane Levine continues to jaunt around the ring.. he's now put Cassandra back down on the mat.. and now he's doing.. [POP!!!] DD: Is that the goddamn Cabbage Patch?! JR: My.. wow. DD: Hehe.. he's gonna get a mic now! They are gonna give him the mic! JR: Lord no. DD: Ok.. this is getting out of ha- .. um.. who the hell was that?! [Dirk is responding to a blinding flash that just whisped past him and slide into the ring.. possibly coming from the crowd behind the commentator's table!! Cassandra sees this man and immediately climbs out of the ring screaming for Levine to turn around! To turn and face the man who has just slid into the ring!] JR: WHAT THE HELL!?! DD: LEVINE IS TURNING TO FACE!! JR: HE TURNS! [And gets immediately locked up.. ..and tossed backwards.. ..TTTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] JR: GOOD GOD!! THIS MAN JUST BELLY TO BELLY.. BRAINBUSTERED LEVINE?!?! DD: It was a belly to belly suplex but he dropped him right on his goddamn neck!!! He just absolutely destroyed the Dynasty! JR: What the hell is going on?! Who is this man?! I can't see his face as he's still looking down at the fallen Levine! [And then he looks up.. no smile.. no grin.. ..and gets an amazing POP!!!!] DD: HOLY SHIT!! THAT'S.. THAT'S.. BOTH: THE GAMMA DOG.. IT'S ADAM DONOVAN!! [And with that.. the fans continue to pop since the Gamma Dog has just dropped Levine to the mat.. nevertheless.. Donovan is not done as he gingerly picks up the Dynasty off the mat.. shoving him into the nearby corner!] JR: Adam Donovan is here and he's not through with Dane Levine! DD: He must've really hated this poor guy's celebration! JR: No doubt to that! Donovan lifting Levine up to the top turnbuckle now.. he's got him facing towards the crowd and you gotta believe the Gamma Dog is ready to really make some sort of statement here tonight! DD: Is he even a part of the company?! JR: Heh. DD: Damn you, insider fool! JR: Donovan exiting the ring.. on the ring apron now as he's starting to climb the top rope from the apron.. onto the second turnbuckle he stands.. DD: What the hell is this? JR: With one leg he powers to the top rope now.. a handful of hair as Donovan leaps high over Levine! Sunset fl-, NO! He grabs Levine by the head and holds on!!!!!! [And they fall.. ..fall.. ..fall.. ..Donovan getting full-extension near the end as he hits the mat backfirst!] [TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] ["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"] ["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"] ["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"] ["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"] JR: GOOD CHRIST.. WHAT A HIGH IMPACT TOP ROPE NECKBREAKER TYPE MANEUVER BY ADAM DONOVAN!! DD: I THINK HE CALLS THAT THE DOG COLLAR!! JR: AND THE FANS HAVE ABSOLUTELY LOST IT!! DD: AND RIGHTFULLY SO!! I THINK HE MAY HAVE JUST KILLED LEVINE!! [Donovan looms over the fallen Levine for a long moment, staring down with a sort of cold malevolence as he reaches into the pocket of his jeans and fishes out a pack of cigarettes and a black Zippo. He shakes one cig loose and tosses it toward his mouth, teeth catching the filter with a well-practiced ease. A quick flick of the wrist, and the Zippo snaps open, and within a further pair of seconds, he's lit his Marlboro and taken a quick inhale. His balefire green eyes scan the ring, finally lighting upon the microphone where it landed when Levine was... "interrupted...", and the youngster stalks over to it and picks it up, before once more turning to stare hatefully at the fallen Levine.] AD: Yeah... it ain't bad enough I'm dragged back to fucking Texas. Back to the hometown I did my level damnedest to get the living fuck _away_ from. Ain't bad enough that I'm still stuck in this god forsaken business 'cuz I've burned one too many bridges, or some god damned cliche like that. Ain't bad enough that my first night in, the night I'm doing a little scouting, I find out I'm gonna be surrounded by nine-foot tall, Herman Munster-lookin', square-headed, bolt- necked, hyperthyroidal motherfuckers and chewed up old men with one good eye and more mileage than my so-called brother's whore Laura. Or maybe that's ex-whore... 'though, once a whore, always a whore, I think. [The Gamma Dog spits. On Levine, of course.] AD: Oh no... ain't bad enough by half. Ain't bad enough that I crossed the border and, for the first time in my life, fucking understood the need for laws _expressly_ forbidding sexual congress with alligators. Hell, I think the reason half these fucking people look so god-damned fishheaded is because they need the gills to breath in the sickass humidity down here. [THE CHEERS TURN TO BOOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] And on top of all of that. [He nails a nasty kick to the ribs of Levine, and his voice grows louder, angrier.] AD: On top of ALL OF THAT... I had to watch you jump around. Watch you try to fucking dance. Watch you lower the mean IQ in this entire fucking toolshed excuse for an arena. And then... and then?! I'm supposed to listen to you talk?! [The hate's so thick in his voice that it can practically be seen hanging in the air.. and the fans continue to boo more loudly!!] AD: Fuck that. Fuck that to death. Ain't happening. Period. Let this be a little lesson to you, Levine. You're jack fucking shit, little man, and nobody cares what you have to say. _Nobody._ Nobody wants to hear it. _I_ don't want to hear it. And I don't care if I have to beat you flat enough that your mom can wrap you around her double-wide ass and use you as a seat cushion, motherfucker... no matter what I have to do, you _will_ shut the fuck up when I'm around. Word, bitch. [With that, Donovan hurls the microphone matward, bouncing it off the back of Levine's head, and then proceeds to walk out of the ring, a purely malignant snarl marring his otherwise handsome face.] DD: WOOOOOOOOOOO!! GAMMA DOG IN THE HOUSE!! JR: Adam Donovan getting the fans on his side.. and then tearing them and Dane Levine to the ground.. what a spiteful man! DD: Wouldn't you be if you had the same genes as Rob Donovan? JR: Fans, Adam Donovan is in the Grand Isle! And now.. we must take you to some pre-recorded comments from Robert Kellan and the Scrayper concerning tonight's contest! DD: SCRAYP! [A GIW banner hung on a wall, constituting the entire background. Forefront stands the intimidating figure of Robert Kellan, attired in full wrestling gear. Over top his dark shorts, boots and such he wears a "USA: Proud _and_ Free" t- shirt and a NYFD baseball cap. He stands, hands rubbing together as he stares intensely into the camera. Babyface intimidation at it's finest.] RK: My son is scared of sleeping in the dark. Every night I have to make sure that his night light is on or a hallway light is left on, anything to make sure he sleeps well and safe and happy. He's afraid of monsters under his bed or the monsters in his closet. He is sure that if that little light is on they cannot possibly get him. [He pauses, smiling.] RK: I tell him not to worry, there is no such thing as monsters... but then I stop and I think to myself "What am I thinking? I wrestle monsters every time I waltz on in here." The monster might be a giant that tramples everything and anything that gets in his way, roaring and growling and making women and children alike quiver in fear. The monster might be the kind that goes bump in the night. The one that raises those little hairs on the back of your neck. The kind that you think are there as you lie in bed and can swear... _swear_ you can feel someone watching you. [Kellan nods.] RK: I go and tell my son, I tell Bobby that there is nothing to worry about. Those monsters can't get you and won't get you if your Pop's around. There is nothing to fear but fear itself... [Again, he pauses, his gaze focused on the camera that much more.] ...and when I think about it I don't fear the giant monster trampling everything. I don't fear the quiet monster that hides on the shadows. So I guess... [He smirks, a smile crawling upon a corner of his mouth.] ...I guess I have nothing to be afraid of. [A nod... and we fade.] [The camera fades into the ceiling of somewhere in the Sand Dollar, even that's unclear at this time. A few rust covered pipes run from V/O: Mashima... [The camera stays fixed, as a sound can be heard.] "_CLLINNNK!_" [Slowly, the camera now begins to pan down. On the back wall the tops of what looks to be dark colored paper can be seen...] V/O: Mashima... [As the camera gets further down, we can make out that on each of these pieces of paper is a picture of a masked wrestler, guesses? And through each and every single piece of a paper the reflection of a metal staple. The wall is covered with these sheets of paper, hundreds... maybe more. All of them stapled up against the back wall, overlapping, hanging from the bottom, messy and others that look to be perfectly set.] "_CLLINNNK!_" [Not only is the back wall is covered with the black and white pictures of Mashima, but also the sides of the two other walls that we can see at this point. And at the base of one of the corners, a dented chair sits leaned up. Just then the figure of the man simply known as the Scrayper can been seen.. well at least the top of his head.] S: Mashima... "_CLLINNNK!_" [He sits on his knees and is leaned forward, his black taped hand holds the rest of him up, while the other hand holds a staple gun in hand. On the ground in front of him, a stack of the sheets that line the walls that are still in view. The ground is made of concrete and therefore it doesn't look as if the staples are holding, but that doesn't seem to bother the Scrayper. The rubber strands that serve as hair for the mask hang forward and in front of him, and it seems as if is speaking to the picture.] S: Mashima... please. Please repay me for what I've done to you, again. I tried to stay away, but you wouldn't let me. If you say that we were even, then why? Why do you show up in my dreams night after night? [The Scrayper runs his free hand over the stack of papers and grabs another one.] S: When I saw your picture in the wrestling magazine, I knew I had to have one. But one wasn't enough, two wasn't enough, and three... you get the idea, don't you? I think I finally found my limit... "_CLLINNNK!_" [The Scrayper fires another staple through the paper and into the concrete floor... did it stick? It doesn't really seem to bother the Scrayper as he grabs another sheet of paper.] S: Now, I have to find your limit. How far do you think you can take it? How long do you think you can last against me? [His voice trails off some.] S: I wonder how Spize is doing... [And with that we fade to black.] JR: Sick, sick, sick. That man is certifiable. DD: Certifiably righteous! JR: You love the cock. DD: JAKE! JR: Bobbleknob. DD: Stop, damnit. JR: Well, I'm getting word to air one more segment from the back.. not sure who or what.. let's just roll the footage! DD: Mystery stuff rocks! [Backstage...] HM: It seems as if you have a hearing problem, Scrayper. Or maybe you just don't comprehend things too well. Last week, I told you that I was finished with you. Ended, finito. But you didn't seem to get the message. You want to continue to play this game. [The Dragon stands with his back to us, resting against the wall with one hand. As he speaks, he slowly shakes his head, almost seeming as if he's disappointed. Or just shocked.] HM: Last week, you arrived on the scene full of piss and vinegar and landed another one on the Dragon. I warned you. You called down the thunder, well now you've got it. [Wait... isn't he Asian?] HM: You just fastened yourself into a ride that we're gonna' take all the way to the end. You, Scrayper, are going to war with the Mashima-san. You like highspots? You like violence? You like pain? Most people like to use the phrase "You messed with the wrong guy." so much it becomes a near-catchphrase. But no, Scrayper. No, you messed with just the right guy. 'cause all of those things are the things that I bring to the table each and every time I lace up my Cons. [Mash turns to face us, his eyebrows knitted and casting dark shadows over eyes twitching with a feverish, dangerous gleam.] HM: The Dead Skin versus The Mikaboshi. The Billion Dragon Bomb versus the staplegun. The Suicide Dragon versus the suicidal Scrayper. You and me, Scrayper, we're going to war. We're going to war all the way to the big show. JR: Fans, let's take you over to Antonio Hervez for the official introductions to our next contest. [Cut to drunken bastard Hervez.. the greatest ring announcer of our time.] AH: Ladies an' gentlemen.. the next contest ees scheduled for one fall.. with a thirty meenute time leemit.. introducing first.. [Cue: Seven Mary Three "Cumbersome] [The crowd comes to their feet as they await the entrance of the up and coming star in Robert Kellan. He hasn't even appeared yet but they are standing...clapping...cheering.] #She calls me Goliath and I wear the David mask# #I guess the stones are coming too fast for her now# #You know I'd like to believe this nervousness will pass# #All the stones that are thrown are building up a wall# #I have become cumbersome to this world# #I have become cumbersome to my girl# [Finally the curtains do part and lo and behold the fans do get that much louder, cheering as the thick form of Robert Kellan comes through the curtain, the intensity, emotion and volume from the crowd shocking him. A large smile creases his face as he starts down the aisle, exchanging high fives and hand shakes with every single fan that reaches out a hand.] #I'd like to believe we could reconcile the past# #Resurrect those bridges with an ancient glance# #But my old stone face can't seem to bring her down# #She remembers bridges, burns them to the ground# #I have become cumbersome to this world# #I have become cumbersome to my girl# AH: From Beaumont Texas, weighin' in at 271lbs...one half of the GIW Tag Team Champions... ROBERT KELLAN! [HUGE FACE POP!] [Kellan is a large, thickly built, young man. Only in his mid/late twenties, he sports a babyface, usually clean shaven, and short cropped, spiked brown hair to go with green-ish eyes. Kellan is quite muscular, obviously a hard worker, with heavily chorded arms and neck, wide shoulders and a thick back. Attractive in a rugged way, Kellan is a hit with the ladies. In the ring Kellan wears a pair of dark blue wrestling shorts with a silver star on the back of them. He also wears silver knee pads, black boots and heavily tapes his hands and wrist in white tape.] #Too heavy too light, # #Too black or too white, # #Too wrong or too right, # #Today or tonight# #Cumbersome# #Too rich or too poor,# #She's wanting me less and I'm wanting her more# #The bitter taste is cumbersome# [Circling the ring in full, he continues the exchange with the fans, _his_ fans, hopping up onto the apron and raising his fists in salute. He sling shots himself into the ring, the smile still there, still big and wide as he removes his baseball cap and t-shirt, warming up and stretching in his corner.] DD: Holy mother of all that is gay. AH: And his opponent.. [A guitar rift starts off very slowly, it is from Slayer's "Dead Skin Mask" the music begins to echo over the arena.] # How I've waited for you to come # # I've been here all alone # # Now that you've arrived, please stay awhile # # And I promise I won't keep you long.. # # I'll keep you forever (forever) # [With no Spize in sight the Scrayper makes his way out from the back all alone. He wears a sleeveless, white t-shirt with holes and blood stains, among other things and a pair of black satin pants. The outfit is completed with both of his hands and wrists wrapped in a black tape. This doesn't cover his pale white featureless mask, however, and that freaks out the crowd.] # Graze the skin with my finger tips # # The brush of dead cold flesh appeases the means # # Provoking images delicate features so smooth # # A pleasant fragrance in the light of the moon # [The Scrayper slowly makes his way to the ring. He never looks towards the crowd, and just keeps walking at a slow casual pace.] AH: On his way to the ring at this time.. he weighs in tonight at 180 pounds and he hails from South of Heaven, West of Hell.. here is.. THE SCRAYPER!!!!!!!!! [HEEL POP!!!] # Dance with the dead in my dreams # # Listen to their hallowed screams # # The dead have taken my soul # # Temptation's lost all control # [The Scrayper climbs up onto the apron and then slowly climbs into the ring. He adjusts the tape on his wrists a few times before he finally settles down. The music fades.] --------------------------------------------- Grand Isle Wrestling: Big Singles Contest!!! The Scrayper vs. Robert Kellan Written By: Matt Furnish --------------------------------------------- [DING!! DING!! DING!!] JR: There's the bell and this one is underway! DD: Get him, Scrayper! [Scrayper immediately charges Kellan, but gets a club-like forearm across his back, sending him right to the canvas.] JR: So much for that, huh? DD: Shut up. [Kellan pulls Scrayper up to his feet and then sends him into the ropes with an irish whip. Scrayper rebounds off the ropes, Kellan goes for a clothesline ... ducked by Scrayper! Scrayper off the opposite side, Kellan turns ... [THUD!!!] ... and drives Scrayper right into the canvas with a devastating powerslam on the much smaller opponent! Crowd pop!] JR: Huge powerslam from Kellan and I'm not surprised to see such a high impact move from the big man here in the early goings of this match. DD: You'll see, Jake. Scrayper's got a few tricks up his sleeve for Kellan. Just watch. [Scrayper rolls away from Kellan after that big powerslam and Kellan is right there to stalk him down, backing him up into the corner. Kellan grabs him by the wrist and sends him for a ride as he whips him toward the opposite corner... [CLANK!!!] ... and Scrayper goes into the corner hard! Kellan goes running toward Scrayper, charging in with a clothesline, but Scrayper rolls forward with a somersault to get out of the way. Kellan looks around to figure out where Scrayper went, but as soon as he turns to face him, Scrayper is there to deliver a dropkick to the jaw, sending Kellan back against the corner!] DD: See!? What did I tell ya? JR: Nice dropkick from Scrayper, but it's going to take a lot more than that to defeat Robert Kellan. DD: You're so pessimistic. JR: That's a pretty big word, Dirk. Don't hurt yourself. DD: It's only a big word if you're as incomprehensible as yourself. JR: You're two for two tonight. Dirk "The Dictionary" Davidson, ladies and gentlemen. DD: Shut the hell up. [Scrayper grabs Kellan by the arm and goes for an irish whip of his own, but Kellan holds on to the top rope and doesn't budge and inch. Scrayper tries again, but gets the same result. Scrayper then puts all of his weight behind it and this time gets Kellan to move, but just as he's going toward the opposite corner, Kellan stops short and then pulls Scrayper into his arms ... [THUD!!!] ... and right into an unbelievable uranage that lays Scrayper completely out! Huge crowd pop!] JR: MY GOD WHAT A URANAGE! Kellan just dropped Scrayper with that move and he's _out!_ Kellan drops down with the cover ... ONE!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! DD: SCRAYPER KICKS OUT! THANK YOU, GOD! [Kellan shakes his head a little and then pulls Scrayper up to his feet again, scopping him up onto his shoulder ...] JR: And now Kellan sends Scrayper right down onto his knee with a shoulderbreaker! Scrayper is in pain, but somehow, he manages to get away from Kellan and get back to his feet. DD: Determination, Jake ... kid's got guts. [But just as Scrayper gets back up to his feet, Kellan is already charging at him ... [THWACK!!!] ... and takes him out with a vicious running lariat!] JR: AND SCRAYPER IS DOWN AGAIN! DD: GOD DAMMIT! [Kellan grabs Scrayper by the head and brings him back to his feet. Hooking him up, he then lifts Scrayper into a vertical suplex ... holds ... [THUD!!!] ... and drops him down to the canvas!] JR: Delayed vertical suplex by Kellan and Scrayper just can't seem to mount an offense in this match up so far. DD: I'm telling you, he's gonna take it to Kellan. He just hasn't found an opening yet. JR: Yeah, well ... with the way things are going right now, I'm not sure if he _will_ find an opening. [Kellan gets back up to his feet and he's immediately on Scrayper again, bringing him right back up to a vertical base. Kellan gets under him and then hoists him up over his head with a gorilla press.] DD: I don't like the looks of this ... JR: Kellan drops Scrayper right down across his knee with a gutbuster! And from that height, Scrayper could very well be done right here, Dirk. So much for putting up a fight. [Kellan hooks the leg and goes for the pinfall ... ONE!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! THR -- KICKOUT!] DD: Scrayper kicks out! Just goes to show, boys and girls ... Jake usually doesn't know what he's talking about. JR: Kellan back to his feet now and he pulls Scrayper up with him. Kellan sends Scrayper into the ropes with an irish whip, Scrayper rebounds ... and Kellan drops him with a shoulder block that sends Scrayper to the mat! [Kellan, showing his relentlessness, picks Scrayper back up once again and drags him to the corner. Lifting him up, he sets him up onto the top rope facing the crowd. Kellan puts his back to his, wraps his arms around his waist and then walks away from the corner, holding onto Scrayper ...] DD: Jesus Christ. Scrayper! Get away from him! JR: Kellan looking to go for perhaps a firebomb of some sorts here. [But just as Kellan falls forward for the powerbomb attempt, Scrayper flips off of his back and lands on his feet, stumbling away from Kellan!] DD: Get him! Take him out while you have the chance! [And as if Scrayper could hear Dirk's words, he delivers a sharp kick to the back of Kellan's leg ... and another ... and another ... and one more to the back of the leg drops Kellan to one knee. Scrayper runs against the ropes ... [THWACK!!!] ... and he nearly takes Kellan's head off with a superkick to the chin!] JR: KELLAN IS DOWN! SCRAYPER WITH A SUPERKICK AND KELLAN HAS BEEN DROPPED FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THIS MATCH! DD: Damn right! [Scrayper looks at the downed Kellan and sees his window of opportunity. Quickly making his way over to the corner, he scales up to the top rope. Patiently waiting as Kellan gets back up to his feet and turns to face him, Kellan looks up toward Scrayper, just as he leaps ... turns ... [THUD!!!] ... and Kellan gets taken out with a flying leg lariat across the neck! Heel pop! Scrayper dives on Kellan as he goes for the cover ... ONE!!!!!!!!!! TW -- and Kellan kicks out before the two count can even be reached.] DD: Dammit, stay down! JR: Kellan kicking out before Scrayper could even get two. He's going to have to hit him with a lot more than that before Kellan's going to stay down long enough for a three count. [Scrayper seems a little frustrated that it didn't get him a two count as he gets back to his feet. Waiting as Kellan stands back up as well, Scrayper then runs against the ropes and dives at Kellan with a cross body press!] JR: Scrayper with a high cross body ... Kellan catches him in mid-air ... and throws him up into a gorilla press! Unbelievable strength! [Kellan holds Scrayper up above his head for a moment and then drops Scrayper to the mat ... [THUD!!!] ... BUT CATCHES HIM IN THE AIR WITH A SPINNING SPINEBUSTER!] DD: DAMN YOU, KELLAN! JR: UNBELIAVBLE MANEUVER FROM ROBERT KELLAN! He just tosses Scrayper around like a ragdoll and planted him into the mat with a spinning spinebuster out of the gorilla press! I'll tell ya, you won't see a lot of wrestlers pulling off moves like that. [Scrayper obviously feeling the effects from the spinebuster as he rolls around on the canvas and ends up sliding out of the ring to the arena floor. Kellan, showing his persistence, follows Scrayper to the outside.] DD: What the hell is with Kellan!? Hasn't he done enough already?! JR: Kellan making sure that he puts Scrayper away for good right here. [Kellan wraps his arms around the waist of Scrayper, locking in a rear waistlock. He lifts him up to his feet and then gets his own feet planted as he pops his hips and literally throws Scrayper over his shoulders with a release German suplex!] DD: OH MY GOD! JR: SCRAYPER LANDS ON HIS FEET AND KELLAN HAS NO IDEA! BEHIND YOU! [But Rodgers' warnings go unheard as Kellan gets back up and turns around. Scrayper with some distance between himself and Kellan as he charges, leaps ... [SMACK!!!] ... and nails Kellan right in the face with a running Yakuza kick!] DD: Take it to him, Scrayper! Show him you're not messing around! JR: Scrayper looking to do just that, it seems, as he slides into the ring and scales the ropes! This is what Scrayper is known for, his insane aerial tactics ... the question is, however, will he be able to connect? [Kellan gets back up and looks around, trying to find Scrayper. Looking up, he's just in time to see the small figure of The Scrayper leaping off of the top rope, twisting in mid-air ... ... flashbulbs fill the background ... ... the crowd on their feet ... ... Scrayper twists in motion ... [CRASH!!!] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] JR: SCRAYPER JUST TOOK KELLAN OUT WITH A CORKSCREW MOONSAULT OFF THE TOP ROPE TO THE OUTSIDE AND THERE HAD TO BE AT LEAST FIFTEEN FEET BETWEEN KELLAN AND SCRAYPER!!! UNBELIAVABLE! DD: HELL FRICKIN' YES! IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME! JR: Both men are down and out and this one might take them both a minute to recover fro -- DD: SCRAYPER IS UP! SCRAYPER IS UP!! [That he is. And as soon as he sees the wreckage he just caused as Kellan is laid out on the ground, he quickly slides into the ring underneath the bottom rope. Kellan starts to sit up, shaking the cobwebs out of his head as he uses the ring apron to pull himself back up to a vertical base. Scrayper off the far end and comes charging toward Kellan as he stands. Scrayper dives ... ... and takes Kellan out with a suicide dive right through the middle ropes! Pop!] DD: This guy just gets better and better! I told you, Jake. I told you Scrayper would take it to Kellan. JR: It would seem that you're right for once. DD: Bah. [Kellan is the first to his feet after the damage done by Scrayper, who is soon to follow as he pulls himself up to his feet as well. Scrayper delivers a sharp kick to the midsection of Kellan ... [SMACK!!!] ["OHHH!!"] JR: Sharp kick to the midsection by The Scrayper! ... and another ... [SMACK!!!] ["OHHH!!"] DD: Do it again! ... and another ... JR: Kellan catches the leg! ... Kellan holds onto the ankle of The Scrayper and then all of a sudden, pulls him right into his arms, trapping the leg and then _throwing_ Scrayper backward over his head and onto the concrete!] [THUD!!!] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] JR: LEGTRAP SUPLEX ONTO THE CONCRETE FLOOR AND THE SCRAYPER HAS JUST BEEN LAID OUT! Kellan getting right back up and I'm willing to bet Scrayper is in a whole new world of hurt after that maneuver. DD: I don't doubt that he's feeling the effects, but I'm betting he's still got more juice left in the tank. [Kellan moves over to the motionless Scrayper and picks him back up off of the ground. Arms around his waist, Kellan rolls him into the ring under the bottom rope with ease. As Kellan slides into the ring after him, The Scrayper begins to stumble to his feet. Kellan grabs him by the head and locks him into a standing headscissors. He wraps his arms around his waist ... lifts ... ... but Scrayper gets in a series of quick right hands to the forehead to block the attempt! Scrayper leans forward and then throws all of his momentum backward ... ... but Kellan holds on to Scrayper to block the rana attempt! Crowd pop! Kellan lifts Scrayper back up ... [THUD!!!] ... and _drives_ The Scrayper into the canvas with a powerbomb! Crowd pop!] JR: Vicious powerbomb by Kellan! DD: Oh god. JR: Kellan holding on to The Scrayper and he's going for the ride again! [Kellan lifts Scrayper back up ... [THUD!!!] ... and delivers _another_ powerbomb!] DD: I can't watch ... [And yet again, Kellan holds on, clutching his fingers together as he lifts The Scrayper up into the air for a third time as he leaves his feet ... [THUD!!!] ... and comes crashing down with a devastating sit-out powerbomb! HUGE CROWD POP!!] JR: GOOD GOD! Scrayper has been demolished after three huge powerbombs and Kellan holds onto him for the cover! Here's the count ... ONE!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! THREE!!!!!!!!!! DD: NOOOOOO!!!!! JR: WHAT!? [DISAPPOINTED POP!!!] JR: I DON'T BELIEVE IT! [Eli Francois stands up and holds up two fingers for everyone to see and Kellan seems upset, telling him that he was certain it was three, but Eli doesn't even budge and tells him to continue the match.] DD: I keep telling you not to underestimate The Scrayper, but you just don't listen! This kid's got the guts to make it all the way in this business. JR: Guts, maybe. Brains, doubtful. [But while Kellan was arguing the call, Scrayper was desperately crawling to the ropes, using them to pull himself back up. However, the damage from the powerbombs has taken it's toll on him and he can't even defend himself as Kellan grabs him by the wrist, sending him into the ropes with an irish whip. Scrayper rebounds off the ropes and Kellan is there to grab him as he flips him in the air and drives him into his knee with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! Holding on, Kellan flips him in the opposite direction and drives his back across his knee with _another_ tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! Kellan holds onto him still, hoisting him up ... [THUD!!!] ... and sends him flying with a fall away slam, causing him to ricochet right off the mat and through the bottom rope to the outside! Big face pop!] JR: Rollercoaster Backbreaker from Kellan with a fall away slam! And I really can't believe that Scrayper is even still moving after all of the punishment he's taken in this match. DD: Yeah, well, obviously you've forgotten about everything Scrayper has been able to dish out to Kellan, haven't you? JR: No, but Kellan is so much bigger than he is. Scrayper is going to need to hit some big moves, real fast if he wants to stay in this match. And the odds don't look like they're in his favor. [Kellan raises his arms in the air, obviously knowing he's got quite an advantage over The Scrayper and the crowd cheers him on for it. Scrayper doesn't move for awhile and Kellan just waits for him to get back up to his feet. Scrayper uses the apron to pull himself up to the ring and Kellan is right there to grab him by the back of the head. Pulling Scrayper up to his feet, Scrayper quickly lunges forward, delivering a shoulder thrust into the midsection of Robert Kellan! And another! And another sends Kellan reeling toward the center of the ring!] DD: Keep your eyes open, Jake! You're about to see a miracle happen! JR: Scrayper up! Jumps ... SPRINGBOARD!! DROPKICK!! DD: And down goes Kellan! [Scrayper looks to Kellan as he sits up groggily ... Scrayper off the ropes ... and he delivers a punishing diving clothesline right across the chest of Kellan, dropping him right back down to his back!] JR: What a clothesline from The Scrayper! He put everything he had into that one! DD: Everything he had, huh? Then why's he climbing so quickly? [As though he just received his second wind, The Scrayper scales the ropes quicker than he ever has in this match while Kellan is still down on the mat. Unmoving, Scrayper doesn't waste any time as he leaps forward, turning in the air ... [THUD!!!] ... and comes crashing down with his back against Kellan's chest with a senton bomb! Scrayper rolls over and hooks the leg for the cover ... ONE!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! THR -- KICKOUT!! HUGE CROWD POP!!!] DD: HOW IN THE HELL!?! JR: SOMEHOW, SOMEWAY, KELLAN FINDS THE STRENGTH TO KICK OUT! DD: I wish he'd just stay down. JR: I'm sure you do, Dirk. [Scrayper, frustrated after not getting the pinfall, rolls out of the ring and quickly finds a chair. He slides it into the ring under the bottom rope and then comes in after it. But before he can get to the chair, Kellan cuts him off and sends him into the ropes ... Scrayper rebounds, Kellan goes for a clothesline ... ... Scrayper ducks underneath the clothesline attempt and grabs the chair as he runs passed it. Scrayper off the other side and charges towards Kellan as he turns. Scrayper tosses the chair at him and Kellan catches it on instinct alone ... [CLANK!!!] ... and The Scrayper dropkicks the chair right into Kellan's face! Hardcore pop!] DD: KELLAN'S DOWN AGAIN! FINISH HIM, SCRAYPER! JR: What an absolutely punishing blow to the head from Scrayper after he sent that steel right into his forehead! Kellan is down and Scrayper is looking to take advantage! DD: Blood! Kellan is busted wide open! [Kellan places his palm to his forehead, seeing the blood on his hand, which causes him to realize that he's in trouble. Kellan stands up to his feet, his back to the ropes ... and Scrayper slides right out of the ring behind him. Kellan doesn't seem to notice, as Scrayper hops up onto the ring apron and Kellan stumbles forward away from the ropes, his back still to his much smaller adversary. The Scrayper then jumps up ... ... springboards ... ... somersaults in mid-air ...] [THUD!!!] JR: SPRINGBOARD SOMERSAULT NECKBREAKER!! WHAT ATHLETICISM! Scrayper with a big time move and that could be just what he's been looking for to put this one away! DD: Cover him, Scrayper! Cover him! [Scrayper does just that, dropping down from his knees to cover the big man for the pin ... JR: This could be it! ONE!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! THREE!!!!!!!!!] DD: YES! IT'S OVER! JR: NO! KELLAN KICKED OUT! KELLAN KICKED OUT! [Eli Francois stands up and holds up two fingers once again, sending a huge buzz through the crowd as they all jump to their feet with cheers for Kellan!] DD: YOU'VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!! Somebody just end this! Anyone as long as it isn't Robert Kellan! JR: You almost sounded unbiased there, Dirk. DD: Yeah, that was a close call. [Kellan, with blood pouring from the open wound above his eye, can barely even see out of it as he slowly gets back up to his feet. Scrayper is already up again and he has the chair in his hands. As he waits for Kellan to get back to a vertical base, he readies his swing ...] [WHIFF!!!] JR: HE MISSES!! [Kellan with a sharp kick to the midsection doubles Scrayper over. Kellan hooks Scrayper up for a suplex as the blood trickles down his face and the crowd all gets onto their feet as they have a pretty good idea what move he's going for. Kellan hoists Scrayper up into a vertical position, holding him there for a moment just before he throws him up into the air ... [THUD!!!] ... but Scrayper reverses the powerbomb attempt into an armdrag takedown!] DD: SWEET JESUS, YES! JR: Impressive reversal by Scrayper, but Kellan is back up! [Kellan charges Scrayper as he reaches his feet and he does for an elbow smash, but Scrayper ducks down and lifts, sending Kellan right over the top rope! Crowd pop as he lands on the ring apron behind Scrayper! Scrayper doesn't see him and runs against the ropes as if going for another tope and suicide dive, but as he starts running toward the big man, Kellan jumps up, springboards off the top rope ... [THUD!!!] ... and takes Scrayper down with a diving shouldertackle!] JR: HUGE MOVE AND EQUAL IMPACT! BOTH MEN ARE DOWN! DD: Scrayper's smart enough to find refuge outside of the ring at least. [Scrayper rolls onto the edge of the apron and starts to work his way back up. Kellan, however, deals with his blood loss as it begins to set in, not able to make it to his feet nearly as quick. Scrayper pulls himself to a vertical base and then Kellan follows right after. Kellan spots Scrayper and then charges forward with everything he has ... [THWACK!!!] ... BUT SCRAYPER OBLITERATES KELLAN WITH A WILD CHAIR SHOT THAT KELLAN RUNS RIGHT INTO!!! HARDCORE POP!] JR: OH MY GOD!!! KELLAN HAS JUST BEEN DISMANTLED AFTER ONE OF THE MOST BRUTAL CHAIRSHOTS I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY PROFESSIONAL CAREER!! DD: THE SCRAYPER ... IS ... GOD!! [Kellan lies motionless on the mat and Scrayper doesn't seem as though he has any intentions of going for the cover after what could easily be a match ender. Blood steadily flows from the cut on Kellan's head as Scrayper goes over to Mr. Spize, who hands him something out of his pocket.] JR: What is that in his hands? [Scrayper holds it up for everyone to see and the crowd immediately begins to boo relentlessly as the camera gets view of what it is ... a pair of handcuffs.] JR: Oh god no. Somebody needs to stop this! DD: No they don't! Go to town, Scrayper! Show him what happens when someone messes with you! [Scrayper latches the cuffs onto the wrist of Kellan and then proceeds to latch the other onto the bottom rope. And almost as soon as he does this, Kellan regains his wits and realizes what's going on, tugging on his wrist to try and get free, but to no avail. Scrayper goes around the ring, looking underneath it for something. Then, as though he has found what he's been looking for, he slowly pulls it out from underneath the ring ... ... MASSIVE HEEL POP!] DD: STAPLEGUN!!! JR: GOD NO! SOMEBODY GET THAT AWAY FROM HIM! FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST!!! [The Scrayper makes his way back over to Kellan, sliding into the ring under the bottom rope. He kneels down next to Kellan and aims the staplegun right at his head ... [KA-CHUNK!!!] [KA-CHUNK!!!] ...these are the sounds that come out of the staplegun, right as Harisoto Mashima dives into the ring to tackle Scrayper to the mat, causing him to miss Kellan completely!! MONSTEROUS FACE POP!!!] JR: MASHIMA! HARISOTO MASHIMA IS IN THE RING!!! THERE IS A GOD!! DD: GOD FREAKIN' DAMMIT!!! What is doing sticking his nose where it doesn't belong!?! [Mashima delivers a series of punches to The Scrayper, who quickly battles to his feet trying to defend himself from the onslaught of Harisoto Mashima. Mashima backs off of him a little, only to charge forward and clothesline him right over the top rope to the outside! Mashima goes over with him and the two end up falling right over the guardrail into the audience! Both of them brawl amongst the small sea of people, all the way toward the back until nobody can see them anymore.] JR: Things have broken down! Mashima and Scrayper are fighting though the crowd.. Kellan is somewhat out on his feet as he's handcuffed to the ring ropes! DD: And things are about to pick up! [And why? BIG MIXED POP! as Leviticus Nelson.. the monster.. starts to make his way down to the ring.. a scowl upon his face!] JR: Oh no! Not now.. not like this! DD: Here he comes.. Kellan's bane! JR: Nelson on his way to the ring.. Kellan is still out of it.. he's locked to those ropes and this spells big trouble for the Lone Star! DD: I hope he gets beaten just for that crappy moniker. [Kellan has slipped to the floor.. he's barely standing.. and even if he couldn't.. his arm is locked to the bottom rope.. so that'd hold him up.. prolly already is. Meanwhile, the crowd continues it groaning mixed pop as Nelson makes his way to ringside.. immediately walking towards Kellan.. who has no idea what, if anything, is coming.] JR: Be merciful, Nelson. Don't be a punk bitch! DD: Say that a little louder. JR: Huh? DD: Maybe he'll hear you. JR: I'll.. pass. DD: Weak willed bitch. JR: Pot.. kettle. DD: Blow me. JR: Nelson over to this side of the apron now.. he's just glaring down the beaten down Kellan.. security is rushing out from the back.. they want to cut this thing off at the pass! DD: What the hell?! When the shit has that ever happened?! [As security makes it's long jaunt to the ring.. Nelson just puts his arm up in front of Kellan.. raising the man's chin into the air.. as if to have them look eye to eye.. Kellan, bloodied to shit, seems to look back with a sort of semi- conscious stare.. as Nelson just holds him ground..] DD: Deck him! JR: I'm starting to get the feeling this is more psychological than that.. DD: How so? [Nelson continues to just glare at the trapped prey as security makes it's way to ringside.. yelling at Nelson to back off. Nelson simply smiles.. staring down the helpless Kellan.. before dropping the hold of the chin.. and walking away!] DD: WHAT THE?! JR: Nelson is just proving a point! He coulda destroyed Kellan tonight! He coulda dropped him like a bad habit.. but he's got more balls than that! DD: Agreed, for once. JR: Nelson leaving the ring as security is trying desperately to unlock Kellan from the ropes.. we've gotten word that this match is being declared a no contest due to interference on both ends! DD: BOOOOOOOOOO!! Mashima interfered first! JR: Nevertheless.. that's the call.. and we must grant it! DD: Bah! JR: Fans.. while security helps get Robert Kellan out of ringside.. let's see what Tommy Ganz and the Television champ, Rembrandt, had to say in regards to the big Television Title match! [Cut backstage, onto Tommy Ganz, psyching himself up. He throws punches into the air, stretches, and breathes in and out quickly. Tommy is wearing a black t-shirt, the words "I Tamed The Pegasus" across the front in red. No longer does Tommy look like he's doubting himself. In fact, it looks like he's finally living up to his nickname; "Deathdealer". The GIW logo looms in the background, gold lettering on a black tarp. Into the scene steps Jacob Rodgers, microphone in hand.] JR: Well, tonight's the big night, Tommy. The GIW Television title is within your grasp. The only man standing in your way is the current champion, Rembrandt. Your thoughts? [Tommy shakes his head from side to side, loosening his neck, before answering.] TG: I defeated Doyle Woodall one-two-three in the middle of the ring. I defeated Pegasus one-two-three in the middle of the ring. In fact, Pegasus turned tail and fled, the embarrassment of losing to a five-foot ten-inch, two hundred thirty-four pound nothing driving him beyond reproach. Now, I know Rembrandt isn't Doyle Woodall, nor is he Pegasus. He's more violent, he has a terrible temper, and the guy could grind my bones into nothing if he so wished. The problem he's going to have is in hitting me with those strikes of his. Y'see, I've scouted 'ol Rembrandt for the last week. Watched old matches, learned what moves he relies on more than others, and generally just took notes. And I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, I'm ready for him. [Jacob looks taken aback. This certainly isn't the doubting Thomas he interviewed last show. This is a more self- assured "Deathdealer".] JR: I don't know, Tommy. Rembrandt isn't exactly the type of wrestler you can watch tapes of and scout out. Especially as of late, as he's very wild and unpredictable. [Reaching out his hand, Tommy pats Jacob on the shoulder gently.] TG: Really, Jacob. I understand all of that, but there's not a single man alive who doesn't follow a pattern when in that ring. I think I've gotten Rembrandt's down pat. And even if he doesn't stick to that pattern, both you and I know that if I get him on the mat, all of the strikes in the world won't save him from me. I don't care what happens, but tonight? I'm taking the opportunity in front of me, and I'm capitalizing. There _will_ be a new GIW Television champion crowned tonight. JR: Well then. I guess there's no questioning you on that, then. TG: I guess not. [Big smile from Tommy makes what would normally be seen as a "threatening" comment seem a little bit more laid back. Wait a minute... Tommy Ganz _smiled_? Will wonders never cease...] JR: What about the challenge laid down by "Classy" Kendrick Lane? He's putting ten thousand dollars on the line to the man who beats him, and he's opened that challenge up to you in particular, as he believes you are the man "holding him back" from GIW stardom. TG: Oh, whatever. The only thing holding Kendrick Lane back is his talent, or lack thereof. Now, I'm not taking anything away from his wrestling ability. Kendrick _can_ wrestle when he feels the need. He can bring his A-game and then some if he's dedicated to doing just that. But Kendrick doesn't show off his ability. He'd rather run around with his thumb planted firmly in his mouth, whining and crying about how he's being screwed with, and how the fans are out to get him. He beats up fans, for Christ's sake. And that's what this is all about now, isn't it? It's not about me holding him back, or me embarrassing him. It's about the fact that he's afraid to go out into the crowd and start a fight, lest he run into me again, and get stretched like the little bitch he's become. Now as for his challenge? Hell, I'll accept his challenge without the money on the line. But since he offered, I'll gladly dismantle him, make him beg for mercy, and take his money from him. In fact, I'll one-up the challenge, and maybe even nip any unwanted distractions from Kendrick right in the bud. Tonight, I'm going to win the GIW Television title. How about you and me, Kendrick? How about we have a double-ladder match? On one side of the ring, ten thousand dollars of your money is suspended. On the other side? The GIW Television title. JR: Now Tommy... I really don't think you should be making challenges like that without first winning the Television title. [Grabbing Jacob, Tommy pulls him into a side-hug.] TG: Jacob, it's a foregone conclusion. I'm walking out tonight the GIW Television champion, I'm defending that belt against Kendrick Lane and his ten thousand dollars, and I'm walking away from both encounters ten pounds heavier and ten thousand dollars richer. I'm the "Deathdealer". It's time to show Rembrandt and Kendrick Lane exactly why. [Tommy walks out of shot, leaving Jacob behind.] JR: I certainly hope you know what you're doing, Tommy. For your sake, I really hope you know what you're getting yourself into... [Cut back to ringside.] [We open up on Rembrandt, the greatest Television champion in the history of Television champions, set up in front of the old standard black backdrop. He's wearing his gi, a black t-shirt, and the GIW Television Title around his waist.] R: Don't think that the irony is lost on me. [He nods.] R: Immediately after I completely and totally obliterate that Parker brat, and put Jeremy Rhodes in his place, the powers that be here in the Grand Isle have seen it fit for me to defend my title against Tommy Ganz. The so-called "Death Dealer". [He didn't make the quotation marks in the air, for the record.] R: How... cute. Tommy Ganz, your run of the mill no-talent hack wrestler, another one of those supposed "hardcore heroes", no doubt, a man who's generic monicker must have him convinced that _he_ strikes fear into the hearts and minds of those who dare oppose him- a monicker he gave himself, by the way- is going to take on the one legitimate monster in the Grand Isle. The man they call a Killer. The man they call an Enforcer. Rembrandt. [A smirk.] R: Tommy Ganz, I'm not going to beat around the bush here. You're not any sort of Death Dealer. You're... To be honest, Tommy, you're just another face in the crowd. When I beat you - when I absolutely demolish you and walk out with my title in hand, that'll be the crowning moment of your career- you took on the monster and he ate you alive. Like so many other hardcore heroes before you, Ganz, and like so many more unfortunate souls coming down the road behind you, you're going to be forgotten. You'll be forgotten before they finish wiping your blood off the mat. My boy, you'll be forgotten before the ref even counts three. [He chuckles, slightly.] R: You've got nothing to offer in terms of a challenge in this, Ganz- Parker thought he could get lucky, but I took it away from him, and look at how much pain he's in. Jaime Roth? Jaime Roth was supposedly well on his way to becoming a franchise player in the GIW, and look what happened to him- no matter where he goes in his career, no matter what he accomplishes, it's all for not- I took him apart. Hell, Ganz- Jeremy Rhodes thought he could prove a point against me, and I more or less snapped him in half. And that brings us to now, and the path of broken bodies leads me to the Death Dealer, the man who wishes he was in my shoes, the man presumptuous enough to challenge me for the GIW Television Title. [Pause.] R: You're just another step along that path, Ganz... What will prove to be the apex of your career is nothing more than an afterthought in mine. Think about that, Tommy- think about that. [Fade.] DD: Tonight is Ganz's death dance! He's toast! JR: Not if Rembrandt takes him lightly.. Tommy has made a career so far out of proving you and the populace wrong.. and he may just amaze and shock us tonight and win the big Television title! DD: Riiiiiiiiight. And you _don't_ have herpes. JR: What-, hey! DD: Hah! JR: Christ. Let's send this over to Hervez for the introductions to the big title match. [Cut to Hervez!] AH: Ladies an' gentlemen.. our next contest ees scheduled for one fall.. and eet ees for the GIW Television Title! [POP!] Introducing first.. the challenger.. [Keyboards. For those Faith No More fans in the audience, the song is immediately recognizable; "As The Worm Turns". For those who are not, the song has become attributed to the man whom uses it as his entrance theme. That man? The man who has stepped out from backstage, and stands stoically several feet from said entrance; "Deathdealer" Tommy Ganz.] #One day you're thinking that maybe you're feeling better #And you're probably an OK person, if only you had a job [Tommy, wearing a red singlet with a black anhk emblazoned across the chest, along with matching elbow pads, knee pads, and wrestling boots, makes his way to the ring, looking serious to a fault.] #Through the hollow tombs can see them #Through their mouths I can hear them praying for pain #But it's only a game [Rolling into the ring, Tommy uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet, then shuffles over to his corner, adjusting his elbow and knee pads.] AH: Entering the ring.. he weighs in tonight at 234 pounds and he hails from Boston, Massachusetts.. here is.. "DEATHDEALER" TOMMY GANZ!!!!!!!!!! [BIG POP!!] #Listen, man, I know #That things are really rough #And everybody gets you #And life is really tough [One hand is raised, letting the fans know he's ready, which draws a pretty decent pop.] #But I know that deep down inside #There's a feeling that rides #All the way to the end [The music fades, and Tommy knows it's go time.] AH: And his opponent.. # WHEN YOU'RE RIPE, YOU'LL BLEED OUT OF CONTROL, YOU'LL BLEED OUT OF CONTROL! # ["Elite" by the Deftones kicks in over the PA system, and the crowd immediately reacts - some of them cheering, others booing. The man known simply as Rembrandt steps through the entranceway and walks down to the ring, not bothering to acknowledge the reaction of the crowd, much less their existence. Dressed in a pair of simple loose black cotton pants, black boots, black gloves, and blue and gold shinpads, Rembrandt is focused solely on the ring.. with that Television title swung over his shoulder! Rembrandt quickly approaches the ringside area, ascends the ringsteps, and enters the ring - shouting an instruction or two at the official, hands the belt over, shakes his head, and moves into his corner to complete his prematch warmups.] AH: In the ring at this time.. he weighs in tonight at 240 pounds.. and he hails from Kyoto, Japan.. he is your GIW TELEVISION CHAMPION [BOOOOO!!].. here is.. REMBRANDT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [MONSTER HEEL POP!! as Remmy just stares down the young Ganz at the far end of the ring.] ------------------------------------------------ Grand Isle Wrestling: Television Title Match!!! Rembrandt [c] vs. "Deathdealer" Tommy Ganz Written By: Andy Doran ------------------------------------------------ [DING!! DING!! DING!!] JR: Champion and challenger circle in the ring and lockup in the center of the ring...Ganz gets the better of that exchange and grabs a headlock, wrenching it on tight. Rembrandt tries to elbow out, but shoots Tommy to the ropes-- reversed! Remmy comes back, and gets taken down with a drop toe hold! "THWAAAACK!" JR: And pounces on the champion with a forearm to the neck! Nasty! DD: If this kid is trying to match strikes with Rembrandt, he's gonna end up with a concussion. JR: Ganz goes back to the side headlock, both men now on the ground and Ganz is squeezing on that headlock, trying to jar the neck of the champion. DD: Remy's gotta get back to his feet if he wants to kick this guy's head off. JR: Rembrandt is starting to move now and he rolls over onto his back, putting Ganz's shoulders on the mat! ONE!!!!!! NO! Ganz rolls back over, but is getting antsy. [Tommy wrenches on the headlock as he stands up, bringing Rem with him. Ganz lets go, but adds a sharp elbow to the neck for emphasis that stuns the champion as Ganz darts to the ropes. But when Tommy comes back, Rembrandt's snapped out of his momentary daze... "THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" HUGE STIFFNESS POP!] DD: I TOLD'JA! JR: Rembrandt with a _wicked_ spinning heel kick that catches Ganz square in the mug! Back up, Rembrant's got the leg of Ganz...dragon screw legwhip! The champ's back to his feet, still holding that leg, another dragon screw! [Rembrandt hits one more and then immediately tries for a figure four leglock but the Deathdealer reaches up and hits a forearm to the side of Remy's face, causing him back off long enough for Ganz to get to his feet. Tommy uses a single leg takedown to ground the champ, and turns him over on his stomach...and then drops an elbow on Remy's neck.] JR: Tommy Ganz seems to be focusing on the champion's neck and has taken Rembrandt off guard with his aggressiveness so far. DD: Rembrandt isn't the champ for nothing Jakey, he's a fat man killah. He'll adjust in due time. JR: Back up, Ganz whips Rembrandt to the ropes and aims a back elbow...ducked by Rembrandt! Ganz turns around...right into an overhead belly to belly suplex! DD: Now Ganz is back up and he catches a kick by Rem- "WHAAAAAAAACK!" JR: But gets dropped with an enzuigiri! Rembrandt unloaded! DD: See, Rembrandt will pick the kid apart this whole match. JR: Rembrandt brings Ganz to his feet and whips him to the ropes, and armdrags Ganz on the way back! Tommy gets back to his feet, into another armdrag! Now with the armbar, and it's the Deathdealer who's squirming now. [Rembrandt clamps down on the armbar and then stands up, still grabbing the arm. Ganz gets to his feet and Rembrandt winds in an armwringer, then turns around and _drives_ the point of his elbow into the exposed arm of Ganz, eliciting a cry of pain from Ganz. Rem repeats the move and then adds a nasty back elbow to the jaw of Ganz! HUGE HEEL POP!] JR: This man is beyond vicious! DD: Damn right, he's the Killer From Kyoto for a reason! JR: Rembrandt with a rear waistlock--GANZ REVERSES! Into his own rear waistlock, a forearm to the neck... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!!" [POP!] JR: GERMAN SUPLEX BY TOMMY GANZ! Rembrandt landed squarely on his neck! And right back to the front facelock, Ganz is determined to weaken that neck! DD: That's fairly obvious now. [Rembrandt gets his feet under him quickly and reaches out to grab Ganz, then stands up and flips the Deathdealer off of him--but Ganz lands on his feet and as Rembrandt turns around, Tommy grabs the head and hits a spinning neckbreaker! POP!] JR: Now Tommy Ganz is on his feet, and drops a sharp knee to the neck of Rembrandt! He rolls the champion over, and covers! ONE!!!!!!! T-KICKOUT! Plenty of time for Rembrandt! [Heel pop!] DD: It'll take a lot more than a knee to the neck to put this man down for three. Matter of fact, I got twenty on Remy to overcome this kid and still kick his ass. JR: Both men back to a vertical basis and Ganz grabs a full nelson, again working the neck of Rembrandt. DD: Whoa, retro-80's flashback! Crank up the Poison! [The champion fights the hold and then slips behind Ganz, grabbing a hammerlock and driving his shoulder into the right arm of Ganz, the one he workd on moments ago. Rembrandt let's go of that and turns the Deathdealer around... "WHAAAAAAAACK!" ...striking with a palm thrust that knocks Ganz into the corner! HEEL POP!] JR: Tommy Ganz is dazed and confused-- DD: Party at the Moontower! JR: --in the corner, and Rembrandt is fixing to go to work! "THWAAAAAAAACK!" "THWAAAAAAAACK!" "THWAAAAAAAACK!" "THWAAAAAAAACK!" "THWAAAAAAAACK!" JR: HOT DAMN! FIVE KICKS TO THE BODY OF TOMMY GANZ, AND THE TELEVISION CHAMPION IS JUST WARMING UP! DD: Yup. Ganz is screwed. [The champion moves back and carefully measures his prey, unleashing a roundhouse kick that cracks Ganz right in the ear. A palm thrust puts Tommy on dream street, and with some Rembrandt assistance Ganz staggers out and gets scooped up... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!" BIG HEEL POP!] JR: MICHINOKU DRIVER! After that deadly outburst, Rembrandt damn near drills Ganz through the mat! COVER! ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!! T-KICKOUT BY TOMMY GANZ! [POP!] DD: That's a pinning sequence, Jakey, none of this middle eastern shooting fighting crap! You wanna pin someone? Then hurt the bastard! JR: Rembrandt brings Tommy Ganz to his feet--OH! Elbow catches Remy in the jaw and Ganz grabs him in a side waistlock... "THUUUUD!" JR: ...into a backdrop suplex! Even that can jar the neck, Dirk. DD: I appreciate Ganz's intentions, well not really, but he better start doing more than punching Rembrandt in the neck. JR: Back up, Tommy Ganz lays in heavy stomps to the neck of Rembrandt, going right back to work on that neck. [Ganz finishes that and stands Rembrandt up, grabbing him in a front facelock and slowly twisting underneath as if for a neckbreaker...but once both men are back to back, Ganz reaches back with his other hand and grabs Remy's head, bending over and lifting the champ in a Hangman! POP!] JR: Another innovative way to work that neck--oh! Dropped into a neckbreaker, finally, and I think Rembrandt may be starting to feel the results of the Deathdealer's handiwork. Tommy Ganz came to this match with his homework done, and appears to be leading Rembrandt into trap after trap! DD: Tommy Ganz couldn't lead a whore into bed, let alone someone as dangerous as Rembrandt. Ganz may think he's hot shiz, but he ain't. [Ganz drops a quick leg on the throat of Rembrandt and gets back to his feet, sitting the champ up. Ganz takes a few steps back and then takes one step forward...doing his best Rembrandt impression... "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" BIG POP!] JR: OH MY GOODNESS! Tommy Ganz with a wicked shin kick to Rembrandt's neck, and he covers! ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! T-KICKOUT BY REMBRANDT! [Heel POP!] DD: Okay, now the punk dies for mocking Remy like that. JR: Ganz took a page from Rembrandt's book and scored a nearfall there! Rembrandt's now on his stomach and Ganz stradles the champion, hooking him into a Camel Clutch! More abuse to the neck! DD: Fight it Rembrandt, don't let this kid win your title! JR: Ganz has that hold on as tight as it possibly can be, Rembrandt can't get out! DD: But he's not giving in either, he's just too tough! [Seeing that this is going nowhere, Ganz lets go of the Camel Clutch and goes back to a-clubberin'... "THWAAAAAAAACK!" "THWAAAAAAAACK!" "THWAAAAAAAACK!" ...hitting forearm after forearm to the neck of Rembrandt! POP! The Deathdealer stops the insanity and again grabs a full nelson, still straddling the champion, and pulls skyward for all he's worth!] JR: Tommy Ganz is determined! He's going to break the neck of Rembrandt or he'll die trying, and right now he's gotta be close to breaking that neck! DD: Dammit! Where'd my cell phone go to, I gotta make some phone calls! [Confused pop!] JR: Ganz let go of that full nelson! What the hell is he thinking? DD: Must look gothic, most likely. [Indeed, Tommy decides that a full nelson camel clutch type deal isn't going anywhere and let's go of the hold, turning around for a quick breather as Rembrandt makes sure he's alright, slowly getting to his feet. Seeing this, Tommy bounces off the ropes and extends his arm for a clothesline aimed at the back of Rembrandt's neck...] JR: DUCKED! Ganz ran right past Rembrandt, and now the champion has him hooked... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDD!!!" DD: Jaysus! Tiger suplex from the Killer! JR: Back up, Rembrandt sends Ganz for the ride..._vicious_ spinning heel kick! What a hard kick by Rembrandt! God, I felt that one all the way over here! DD: Your mother felt that one all...the way...over...he...here... JR: Shut up, Dirk. [HEEL POP! Rembrandt takes Ganz down with a brainbuster, and then picks him back up only to floor him with a shinkick to the face!] JR: He is just sick Dirk. DD: And he's dangerous. He's a one man destruction crew. JR: Ganz is still down from that shinkick, here's the cover... ONE!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!! T-KICKOUT BY TOMMY GANZ! HE'S RESILIENT! [POP!] JR: He won't stay down, that's for damn sure. DD: Rembrandt may be very close to giving him a reason to. JR: The champion brings Tommy Ganz to his feet, rear waistlock... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!" [HEEL POP!] JR: Released German suplex by Rembrandt, and Ganz bounces into a sitting position...Rembrandt off the ropes... "THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKK!" DD: Ganz might need some plastic surgery after that shot! JR: Seated dropkick to the face of a seated Tommy Ganz knocked the challenger for a loop! [But the champion sits the Deathdealer back up into the sitting position and backs up a few steps, visibly sneering as the crowd catches on... "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKKK!!!" ...paying Ganz back for the shinkick to the back of the head with one of his own, and Tommy falls as if he was shot! BIG HEEL POP!] DD: That man is _not_ to be f[bleep]d with! Ganz tried to match Remy in the kick department, but Rembrandt has won that battle, I do believe. JR: A vile shinkick to Tommy Ganz's head that echoed throughout the Marina, that's what that was! Rembrandt picks Ganz up, into a front chancery...Fisherman's suplex! He keeps the bridge! ONE!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TH-KICKOUT BY GANZ! [POP!] JR: Rembrandt has survived the attempts by Tommy Ganz to weaken his neck, and now is on the offensive! Back up, Rembrandt with a full nelson... "THUUUUUUUUUD!" DD: Dragon suplex! Bridged! JR: ONE!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!! THR-KICKOUT AGAIN! TOMMY GANZ IS OUT TO PROVE A POINT! [HUGE POP!] JR: Rembrandt's pissed! He's firing off dangerous moves and Tommy Ganz is coming back for more! DD: Wouldn't you be? Rembrandt's nearly kicked the head clean off of this kid tonight, but he's like obsessed! [Rembrandt has some harsh words for Eli Francois, but notices Ganz crawling to his feet and when the time is right, Rembrandt turns around and fires a superkick aimed at the head of Ganz...] JR: DUCKED! Boot to the gut, DDT! Ganz spiked the champion and now drags him to his feet, grabbing a wristlock... [HUGE POP!] JR: INTO A DRAGON SLEEPER! REMBRANDT'S GOT NOWHERE TO GO! [But the champ thinks quickly and doesn't let Ganz lock his legs, instead rocking to the side and firing an elbow that causes Ganz to release the hold.] JR: A close call for the champion there, Tommy Ganz had him dead to rights in the middle of the ring. DD: No he didn't, just what match are you watching Jake?! Rembrandt's got him right where he wants him! JR: ...are you even paying attention? DD: Only sometimes, gotta be honest. JR: Back up, Rembrandt spins Ganz around, palm thrust--dodged by Ganz! Front facelock, DD--no! Rembrandt acted fast and rammed Tommy Ganz into the nearest corner, saving his neck from further damage! [Rembrandt winds up and unleashes a harsh kick to the ribs, grabbing the Deathdealer and whipping him to the opposite side, only to have Ganz reverse the whip and turn around, slamming Rembrandt hard into the corner they were in a moment ago. Ganz winds up and fires with a punch that hits the side of Rembrandt's neck, then takes a step back as the champion staggers into a boot to the gut...] JR: Vertical headscissors applied...piledriver! Right on that neck, Ganz drilled it! [BIG POP!] JR: COVER! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!! THR-KICKOUT BY THE CHAMPION! [Heel pop!] JR: It's taken a few minutes, but Tommy Ganz's strategy is working! The neck of Rembrandt is in terrible shape and it showed on that kickout! DD: Ya know I got more money invested in title matches, this little turd burglar might cost me big friggin bucks. JR: Tommy Ganz is the first to his feet and he brings Rembrandt to his feet, into the front chancery and a lift...keeping Rembrandt vertical! Ganz is letting all the blood flow to the head of the champion... "THUUUUUUUUUUDDDD!" JR: ...and plants him with a brainbuster! [The crowd cheering him on, Tommy Ganz brings Remy to his feet and whips him to the buckles, letting his neck get jarred by the impact of hitting backfirst. Falling in, Ganz unleashes more hell on the neck of Rembrandt, drilling a series of forearms to the neck, putting some elbow grease into it as Mah Daddy used to say.] JR: Tommy Ganz will break that neck tonight, he's been working on it since the moment the bell rang! What a well executed gameplan from the Deathdealer! DD: A little impartiality would be nice Jake. JR: Ganz relents with the forearms and grabs an inverted facelock, walking to the center of the ring--but Rembrandt twists underneath! He wraps the arms...Northern Lights suplex! [A small shriek of pain escapes Ganz and Rembrandt very obviously hears it, remembering back to the arm he worked on earlier in the match. In mere moments, Rembrandt clamps a cross armbreaker onto the bad wing of Tommy Ganz, squeezing it on good and tight! HEEL POP!] JR: Rembrandt with a jujigatame on the right arm of Tommy Ganz, hoping to get the submission! DD: Scream boy, scream for all your worth! JR: You sound just like a child molestor. DD: Well, I do have lots of free time. JR: ...I'll pretend I didn't hear that. [The Deathdealer very quickly finds a rope to grab onto and frees himself from the hold via those very ropes. But Rembrandt quickly gets hold of the arm and twists into a hammerlock, moving in front of Ganz and scooping him up while still holding the hammerlock, then slamming him down on top of the arm.] DD: And now Rembrandt works on that arm of Ganz in turn, fighting fire with fire. I hope he breaks his arm. JR: Rembrandt now with a legdrop to the arm in question, and another. BACK TO THE CROSS ARMBREAKER! [HEEL POP!] JR: BUT GANZ GRABS THE ROPES AGAIN, SAVING HIMSELF ONCE MORE! DD: What a friggin' pansy! JR: Rembrandt brings Tommy Ganz up, into a front chancery and he lifts... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!" [HUGE HEEL POP!] DD: FISHAMAN BUSTAAHH!! JR: Good to see you're getting into the Jap scene, Dirk! Cover! ONE!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!! THRE---GANZ GETS HIS FOOT ON THE ROPE! [HUGE POP!] JR: Tommy Ganz is still in this one! He refuses to give up! DD: And is costing me money in the process! JR: Rembrandt brings his challenger to his feet and sends him for the ride... "WHAAAAAAAACK!" [HUGE HEEL POP!] JR: A goddamned LETHAL roundhouse kick by Rembrandt! I don't know how Tommy Ganz's head is still on! DD: Super glue. It's multi-purpose, I hear. [Rembrandt pulls Tommy Ganz up again, underhooking the bad arm and falling back in a single arm DDT! HEEL POP! The champ looks down at Ganz and drags him up one last time, literally helping Ganz to stand up...] JR: Tommy Ganz has taken just as much punishment as he's given and is woozy right now. DD: Woozy? He can barely stand still. JR: Rembrandt measures him, one last kick oughta do it-- [BIG FACE POP!] JR: HE DUCKED THE ROUNDHOUSE! FULL NELSON BY GANZ... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDD!!!" [MAMMOTH FACE POP!] JR: DRAGON SUPLEX, NO RELEASE, ALL IMPACT! [Rembrandt rolls backward, onto his stomach and seeing this Tommy pounces, racing to the back of Remy and hooking him for a surfboard, getting ready to pull back...HEEL POP!] JR: REMBRANDT SNAPMARED OUT OF THE SURFBOARD, HE GOT OUT OF THE KABEL NARIA... [HUGE HEEL POP!] JR: AND FLOATS RIGHT INTO THE CROSS ARMBREAKER! GANZ IS IN THE CENTER OF THE RING, HE'S GOT NOWHERE TO GO! DD: Ka-ching! Money in the bank, baby! [Or is it? Ganz is eyeing the ropes something fierce and begins to claw his way to them, digging his fingers into the mat and slowly but surely making progress, to Rembrandt's dismay and the crowds overwhelming approval.] JR: HE'S FIGHING IT! TOMMY GANZ IS SOMEHOW TRYING TO GET OUT OF THIS CROSS ARMBREAKER, HE'S USING EVERY OUNCE OF STRENGTH HE HAS LEFT TO MAKE IT TO THE ROPES! DD: Don't let him move Remy, clamp down goddamnit! JR: Almost there, almost th--REMBRANDT PULLS HIM BACK OUT! BACK INTO THE CROSS ARMBREAKER!! [HUGE HEEL POP!] DD: HE TAPPED! GANZ TAPPED OUT! [DING!! DING!! DING!!] AH: Ladies an' gentlemen.. the winner of the match.. an' still GIW TELEVISION CHAMPION.. REMBRANDT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [MEGA-HEEL POP!! as Remmy just rolls out of the ring as Eli checks on Ganz who looks hurt.. but more pissed than hurt.. can't believe he let his guard down and let the title slip.] JR: What a fight by Tommy Ganz.. this kid has star wirtten all over him.. with some more experience under his belt.. he may give Remmy more than he can handle down the line! DD: If he ever gives the kid a rematch.. I sure as hell wouldn't! Remmy beat him, move on and kill someone new.. Remmy is a monster that can't be held down. JR: The champ continues to prove he can beat anyone on any given day.. a true animal DD: Not a bad night afterall. JR: What a night so far! DD: Quite honestly I must admit.. this is one of the hottest nights we've had to date! JR: Indeed! And it's only gonna get hotter with two big final matches.. up next, Corey Irons against the monster.. as he takes on Leviticus Nelson! # ... WHATEVER IT TAAAAAKESSSSS!!!!! ... # DD: Rock on! Oh shit, no pun intended.. I hate this flamin' douche bag.. I'm so flustered. [Can you feel it?] . . . . . [Then GETDAFUGGUP!!!] JR: You _know_ who's coming! There's only one man who's proved he can stir a pot like this! DD: Adam Donovan is coming back out?! [Shortly after, you guessed it, the PA fiercely cries out POD's "Whatever It Takes", the "Serial Thriller" Billy Rock arrives from the bleak, confined tunnel. His haunting blue eyes coast the intimate ambiance while the GIW crowd hails every step that hits the aisle.] JR: The Serial Thriller has to be enjoying his growing fan base. DD: He still sounds like a porn star. [Billy compellingly struts the aisle, his arms stretched out, palms rowing through the cascade of arms pouring over both barricades. His outlook, be what it may, lurks somewhere behind that scowl, or perhaps laced behind the stitching in his forehead.] DD: What's with the threads? JR: Corey Irons worked this young man over last week, Dirk! The "Extreme War Machine" is the one responsible for those stitches, not to mention the unsettling glaze across those eyes. DD: He got what he deserved for showering him with a bucket of _piss_, for Christ's sake. JR: I wonder who's? DD: Your mother. [Infiltrating the ring, Billy scoops a mic left in the center.] DD: Son of a manwhore! Looking at him's bad enough. You know, Billy reminds me a bit of my father. A drain on my soul and patience. JR: Did you say _manwhore_? DD: Listen. You're a huge nerd, Rodgers. Huge. "Phmp!" "Phmp!" "Phmp!" [The Ozark Beast taps the mic evenly on the back of his head.] "Phmp!" "Phmp!" [Alright, enough of that.] Billy Rock: The last time I walked this far ... I _battered_ an employee of this company. [The live feed is replaced with brief, mute footage of Billy eighty-sixing Levine with a jarring Ozark Deathride (ie Burning Hammer). A partial grunt, partial chuckle from the live mic escorts the clip.] Billy Rock: And I don't even work here. JR: Oddly enough, it's true. There's _no_ ink on Billy Rock's contract. DD: So he's not being paid? He's just showing up to _hurt people_? JR: Someone specific, it would seem. [Billy scrapes his fuzz.] Billy Rock: Regardless ... it's happenin'. Right under your nostrils. The Serial Thriller is rearranging the Isle's pretty little face. Come to think of it, I'm altering the complexion of this whole Goddamn _biznazz_. There will come a time ... might be tonight, maybe two weeks away, likely months from here. These words may not echo for _years_, but I promise yuh a staggering bout of reverberation. There _will_ come a time, amigo's. There will come a time. Full of myself? Maybe. Arrogant? Can't rule it out. Capable? Without question. Without _remorse_. I'm stompin' through here like a bull in a china closet. Would yuh have it _any_ other way? [The crowd has his back.] Billy Rock: Yeah, I knew we were connecting. There's somethin' between us, I can tell. Yuh see, when I left Toronto I never thought I'd find a spark like I had there. Somethin' yuh should know about me is that I'm _real_ skimpy on patience. Got no desire for it. That's why, Irons, I'm glad yuh didn't keep me waitin'. Yuh didn't just create a spark, yuh lit a fuckin' TORCH up under my ass, and now ... every breath yuh draw, every step I know you're capable of ... well that just fans the flames. Yuh've outgrown the fryin' pan, Corey. [ ... with an unnatural glare, gnashing his teeth ... ] Billy Rock: Welcome to the fire. [POP!] JR: Lord almighty. How did this escalate to something so personal? DD: No one likes to be shown up, evidently. Billy Rock: I know you're in the back, Corey, and I know exactly where to find yuh. Tucked somewhere behind that piss yellow wall of peacekeepers, and speakin' of "piss yellow" ... enjoy you're bath last week? JR: I was right! DD: Who cares? You're not a superstar like Irons! _You'd_ enjoy it! Billy Rock: You'll stick your neck out shortly, Irons, when yuh think the coast is clear. When all yuh got hissin' down your neck is a seven foot, four hundred pound ass, twelve inch taint, butthole the size of a tuna can fuuuuuuh_reek_ of mother nature! DD: Irons is fighting your mother tonight, Rodgers? JR: Eat me. Billy Rock: He don't know what scares yuh, boy. But I do. 'Cause sometimes? I even scare myself. [With the mic at his side, he walks comfortably from corner to corner, observing the sinister hush he's cast over this zoo.] Billy Rock: Do I care how? Do I care when? If there's one thing yuh gotta ask yourself when yuh think all the doors are locked ... when yuh think all the shades are drawn and windows are boarded up ... when you're thinkin', "not here, not now, he wouldn't possibly" ... _Do_ _I_ _care_? [He jabs a finger toward the mat.] Billy Rock: That said, I'm plantin' a challenge. Right here. Not to you, Corey. Our night will fall soon enough. What I want in this very spot ... what I will _take_ two weeks from now ... is the man with the spirit to aim that GIW TV Title toward the lights when it matters. [POP!!] [They want it!] DD: Jesus! Why doesn't he ask for a company car while he's at it? JR: I think that's a hell of a challenge! Billy Rock: Rembrandt ... Ganz ... like it matters. In two weeks I'm gonna use one of yuh for all yuh got to give. I got an example to set, and I need props. One of 'em ... [Mimes dusting off the face of a belt at his waist.] Billy Rock: ... I'm wearin' home. The other, I'm just wearin' _out_. And whichever one of yuh ends up pullin' your face off the floor, yuh just remember that the blame doesn't lie far from where you do. Yuh just remember who to hold responsible for the consummate disregard I show your only resort to put food on the table. His name is Corey Irons. And he just don't get it. "Thunk!" [Someone pick that mic up.] # ... WHATEVER IT TAAAAAKESSSSS!!!!! ... # [The Serial Thriller leaves us behind, making a few fans' day with tranquil acknowledgement.] JR: My oh my! Billy Rock sending a message to Corey Irons through a challenge to Rembrandt for next show! Will it be answered?! DD: Like you gotta ask that? Don't be surprised if we cut back to the locker room and find Rock feeding through a tube and Remmy standing over him scoffing. JR: Fans.. let's see what Leviticus Nelson and Corey Irons had to say about their big, highly highly anticipated showdown just moments away. DD: This is gonna be a house rocker! ‘Click!’ [A light bulb, which hangs from the ceiling, flickers on. One can assume that the dimly lit area is a small locker room, somewhere in the backstage setting of the Sand Dollar Marina. The dim light bulb just barely sheds light onto its surrounding area, as all that can be seen are the dark silhouettes of a row of lockers on one side of the room, and a bench on the other. A small table is situated in the center of the room. The camera then zooms in on the unlikely object resting on top of it... An hourglass. There the awkwardly-shaped object sits, with all of its grains clumped together on the bottom half of its structure. A moment passes before a figure can just barely be seen emerging from one corner of the room. The low-quality camera only manages to catch a glimpse of the figure’s mid-section, as he walks around two sides of the table. His familiar, thick, yet cold-sounding voice propagates from off screen.] "Everyone’s time must come." [As he speaks the ominous words, he reaches his hand out, taking the hourglass and turning it over. The fine sand particles slowly start to slip through the narrow center of the hourglass... As time now begins to tick away. The camera then pans out, revealing the full visage of the "Extreme War Machine" Corey Irons. He maintains the look of a cold-blooded murderer on his face, and is decked out in his wrestling attire - black and silver wrestling trunks, black boots, kneepads, and white tape wrapped around his wrists. His thick, long brown hair hangs past his shoulders. He completes the look with his traditional black leather jacket. He then shoots a condescending look towards the screen... As time continues to tick away. His eyebrows lower, and his chin begins to quiver before he utters out his usual discouraging remarks.] Corey Irons: Day in and day out, we all wonder what the future holds for us. As competitors in an industry filled with blood, sweat, and tears, we all hope for the best. We all pursue that constant, agonizing struggle, in hopes of living our _time_ to the fullest. [The camera zooms in again on the hourglass, as the sand grains continuously slip through to the bottom of it.] Corey Irons: In a children’s storybook, and in a common fairy tale, the giant is often portrayed as a threat. In every great epic, the struggle between the giant and his prey are what outline the story’s plot. Ancient biblical tales told the story of Goliath, and how the villagers shuddered at his mere presence. Modern children’s stories tell the tale of a boy named Jack, the innocent boy who climbed the beanstock in hopes of outwitting the giant. Still, more epics tell the saga of a brave knight, who journeyed into the den of a dragon, with the desire to slay the beast. Yet the story progresses, as the pages turn and the plotline develops. A brave man steps up to the plate, and sets out on his dangerous journey, hoping to come back in one piece, and hoping to mount his massive foe’s head on his wall. The brave man struggles, putting his life at risk, yet knowing that it is _his_ duty to slay the tyrant. For the brave knight, he must mount his stallion, and march into the lair of his adversary. [He takes a deep breath, being careful not to break his stare on the camera. As the hourglass is shown again, it is evident that close to one quarter of the sand grains have now fallen through.] Corey Irons: And for the knight known as Corey Irons, the journey ends on the battleground that Leviticus Nelson calls home, right here in Grand Isle. The climax draws near, and the book nears its end. Goliath dies at the hands of David. The giant tumbles to his doom as Jack narrowly escapes. The dragon is slain by the sword of a knight. So Leviticus, to put it all in perspective... I’m about ready to write your final chapter... I’m about ready to turn the last page in your storybook... And I’m about ready to tell you... That your _time_ is now up. [Again, the hourglass.] Corey Irons: Yet the villagers fear the tyrant. They shudder at the presence of the man with the loudest roar. They gasp in horror at the sight of the beast with the sharpest bite. They hide when they hear the footsteps of the giant knocking on their doorstep. But the _truth_, Leviticus, is this... You ain’t seven feet tall... When you’re laying on your _back_. And you won’t be much of a giant... When your head is mounted on my wall. [Another close-up shot of the hourglass, as a good portion of the grains have now fallen through.] Corey Irons: So big man, the villagers might run and hide when you show up. Let them. They are cowards. And the brave, but foolish scrubs that stood in your way? Swat them aside. They’re no match for you. So when the smoke clears, and the dust settles, take a good look around, Goliath. Your David isn’t about to back down. Instead? He’s gonna hit you with that slingshot. He’s gonna cast that dragon into the fire. He’s gonna watch you tumble down that beanstock. [He grits his teeth, like a murderer going for the kill.] Corey Irons: You might be Grand Isle’s human juggernaut and incredible hulk monster. You may be the man who the critics predict will finally shut the "Extreme War Machine’s" piehole. The fans might adore you, and despise me. They might chant your name, and show you their support. However, all that really means, is one thing... This story ain’t gonna have a happy ending. [He scoffs.] Corey Irons: God knows I’m not a small man, Nelson. But to you? You’re so used to dwarfing your opponents that none of that BS even matters. Then again, when I swing that sword, and spill your blood, there ain’t gonna be nothing left for Robert Kellan to pick up the pieces. When I finally end your time, and call your name up to that chopping block, Billy Rock is gonna be witnessing an omen of his own destruction. You’re that giant, a man whose sole purpose is to live only until the end of a short story. You’ll be outclassed, outlasted, and surpassed by those who you once looked down on. [He takes one final look at the hourglass, seeing that most of the particles have now slipped through.] Corey Irons: It’s time for the story to end. It’s time for the saga to draw to a close. It’s time for the giant’s last stand. So for you, Leviticus... Time... has run out. [The scene fades as the final grains of sand slips through the hourglass.] [We fade to the locker room of Levitcus Nelson, where we see the one and true giant of this business standing, in front of a mirror, looking at himself. Nelson looks at his massive arms, then down to his massive feet, as he shakes his head, nearly in awe of himself. Nelson then cracks an eery smirk, as he turns away from the mirror, shaking his head slightly.] Nelson: Allow me to get this straight. [Nelson lowers his head.] Nelson: After all I've done...after last week, slaying everyone's new toy...after last month, destroying the "giant" sent to destory me...after Brawl on the Bayou, breaking the legend that was McBaine...despite the result... I get this again? I get another child checking the shadows to see if the monster's still in the room? [Nelson raises his head.] Nelson: The bible speaks of children, and they're precious nature. Their willingness to learn, to be nutured, to be loved and cherished. A child is someone that knows no true evils, and lives their live to the fullest each day...wishing they can one day grow up to be something...someone. Irons? Are you the latest child to cross the path of the monster? Are you the newest "toy" the brass of this company has decided to place in front of me, in front of my path... To be destroyed? [Nelson shakes his head.] Nelson: You don't know the path of which you're soon to cross, the consequences of your actions...the pain you shall suffer. What you do know? Is that somewhere, in the back ground, some man will pat you on the back, and tell you to "give it your best"...and to "entertain the fans". And like most lap dogs, you'll oblige, hoping you don't anger the men that tell you they'll make you a "star". [Nelson smirks.] Nelson: Look around kid. Star? There are no stars here, just washed up legends, monsters, and "cowboys" looking to find that small corner in the back of their mind in which their swagger used to lack. The "Butcher"? He returned to call out Bobby Taylor. My how exciting... A washed up monster gets to stand face to face with the child trapped in a man's body. The man that's been a sheep following the flock, gets to stand eye to eye with the man that once lit up Portland. How dramatic, gentlemen, how truly dramatic. While you two children play with each other, I'll lurk in the shadows, like I always have, awaiting for the suits to finally remove the protective shell surrounding their precious investments. And when they do? God shall have no mercy...much less myself. [Nelson turns back around, looking in the mirror.] Nelson: Kellan shall watch tonight, when another one of his fellow shinning stars locks eyes with the collection of his greatest fears, wrapped up into one. He shall watch, with his precious little family, as I maul another child who's willing to sacrifice it all, in order to gain recognition in this "business". Another lamb lead to slaughter, for no reason...no reason... [Nelson lowers his head.] Nelson: When will they learn? When will they ever...ever...learn. [Fade to ringside.] DD: You ready Jake? JR: For what? DD: Things to definitely break down. This is not gonna be your typical brawl.. these two are gonna bring it to the death. JR: Amen. Let's swing it over to Antonio. [Cut to Hervez.] AH: Ladies an' gentlemen.. our next contest ees scheduled for one fall.. with a thirty meenute time leemit.. introducing first.. [The crowd stirs and waits as the opening chords of "Would" by Alice in Chains are played over the arena speakers. Exotica comes out first to a burst of cheers from the crowd. Wearing nothing more than a small pink bikini, and a pair of open-toed high heels, she runs her hands through her long, wavy blonde hair. At the start of the first verse, "The Extreme War Machine" Corey Irons steps through the curtains, and stands with an emotionless look on his face at the top of the aisleway.] #Know meeeeee broken byyyyy my masterrrrrrr Teach theeeeeee on child of love hereafterrrrrr# [Irons looks to his left, then to his right at the thousands of fans in the audience, who give a mixed reaction. The big screen then shows highlights of Irons’ career. It begins with Irons pinning a bloody, beaten opponent, then of Irons applying the Web of Death on another victim, and of him hitting a former rival with an inverted ddt. It then shows him winning a World Heavyweight title from a previous federation, several years ago. Irons wears a pair of black and silver spandex, a pair of black boots that reach about a foot past his ankles, and black knee and elbow pads. Brushes away a strand of long, wet brown hair.] #Into the flood again Same old trip it was baaaaaaaaaaack then So I made a big mistake Try to see it once my waaaaaaaaay# [With the look of a cold-blooded murderer on his face, Irons makes his way down the aisle and gives cold stares to people in the audience. He makes his way up the ring steps. Irons stops at the top of the ring steps and takes a good look at his surroundings.] #Driftiiiiiing body it's sole desertion Flying not yet quiiiiiite the notion# [The lights remain dimmed in the arena as Irons steps in through the ring ropes. Fireworks then come shooting up from the four turnbuckles as Irons stands in the center of the ring, and raises his arms in the air. Exotica kneels down in front of him, facing the crowd, running her hands up the sides of her legs. "Would" continues to play for several seconds, and as the lights come back on, Irons stretches himself by grabbing the top rope and tugging at it, then goes over to stand on the second turnbuckle, his arms raised in the air.] #Into the flood again Same old trip it was baaaaaaaack then So I made a big mistake Try to see it once my waaaaaaaay# AH: From Vancouver, BC, Canada, accompanied by Exotica, he weighs in at 258 lbs... here is the "Extreme War Machine".. COOOOOOREEEEEEEEEEEEEEYY IIIIIIIIIIIIRROOOOOOOOOONS!!! [Nice heel pop! as Irons awaits his opponent..] AH: And his opponent.. ["Bad Blood" by Sepultura kicks up, as Leviticus Nelson begins his slow walk to the ring. The crowd pops big as Leviticus nods, closing his eyes, and heads towards the ring. As the song continues, Leviticus lifts a leg over the top rope and enters the ring. Leviticus grabs the top rope, and closes his eyes, beginning a slow prayer, as you can see in detail, the massive amount of tattoo's on his arm. His large hands grip the rope tightly, as he stops the prayer, opens his eyes, and slowly turns around, glaring towards Irons.] AH: In the ring at this time.. he weighs in tonight at 397 pounds.. and he hails from Lufkin, Texas.. here is.. LEVITICUS NELSON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [HUGE MIXED POP! as Nelson just glares down his opponent.. awaiting the bell.] ------------------------------------------ Grand Isle Wrestling: Singles Contest!!!! Leviticus Nelson vs. Harisoto Mashima Written By: Ryan Duffy ------------------------------------------ [DING DING DING!] JR: And we're ready to get this match underway as the seven foot monster Leviticus Nelson will take on the Extreme War Machine, Corey Irons. DD: He won't be so extreme when Leviticus rips his arms off. JR: Irons and Nelson slowly make their way towards the middle of the ring.. Nelson standing in at seven feet plus, and Irons comes in at about six plus, a big size difference. There's the lock-up.. DD: He's nuts if he wants to take Nelson on power on power. [Nelson with the obvious strength difference, shows it off and just tosses Irons backwards in the ring! Irons does a backwards roll and lands back on his feet... he doesn't look to happy with that strategy.] DD: Nelson is toying with Irons in there. JR: It looks to me as if Nelson is begging Irons for another lock-up. DD: Do it! Come on! JR: Irons is slow back up, but it looks like he's going to try it again.. and there's the lock-up! [Once again, Nelson is just too strong for Irons and tosses him... but this time, Nelson is able to throw Irons back first into the corner turnbuckle.] JR: Amazing show of strength there. Nelson charges into the corner- "_THUUDDD!_" JR: And Corey Irons is able to move out of the way! DD: A second later, and he would have been a pancake. JR: Nelson a little bit stunned, and that gives Irons the chance with a quick right hand. And now he measures up Nelson- "_CHHHOOOOP!_" [Big knife edge chop from Irons across the chest of Nelson. This actually caused the big man to rock back into the corner somewhat. It'll probably leave a mark tomorrow as well, but that's not the end of it, as Irons takes the big man by the arm and attempts to throw him across the ring.] DD: Brakes by Nelson and he easily reverses that one! I think he's had enough with toying around.. JR: And there's the counter whip by Leviticus and Irons into the farside corner- "_THHHUD!_" [Pop from the impact of that one!] JR: Irons bounced off the ropes from the impact of that one! DD: And now Nelson wraps that big hand around the throat of Irons... could it be a chokeslam? JR: No! Nelson lifts Irons high into the air with a gorilla press... incredible strength shown here by the giant. DD: He could put him through the roof from here... if we had one! "_SLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAMMMMMM!_" [Pop for the move!] JR: A HUGE GORILLA PRESS SLAM! LEVITICUS JUST DROPPED COREY IRONS STRAIGHT TO THE MAT! DD: Irons bounced! I swear he bounced from the impact of that one. JR: Nelson doesn't look like he's about to go for a pin here, but instead wraps both of his massive hands around the throat of Irons and now he's lifting him back up into the air! What a feat of strength shown there by the seven foot monster! [Nelson takes Irons like a rag doll and tosses him by the throat back into the corner turnbuckle! Irons hits and slumps in the corner a little bit, but he doesn't have much time because Nelson comes charging in and knocks whatever air was left in his lungs with a shoulder block!] JR: That might have crushed Corey Irons' lungs. As the newcomer is now gasping for some air! DD: This match might not even last five minutes... I should have bet the under, eh? JR: ... DD: What? JR: Nothing. [Nelson takes the body of Irons and proceeds to toss him towards the middle of the ring like a total rag doll. Irons is able to roll back to his feet, but the damage has been done and he doesn't look like he is moving all that fast - Nelson takes a running charge.. "_SMMMMMMMMMMMMMMACK!_" DD: That's through the uprights, baby! JR: A running boot from Leviticus and Irons gets turned inside out on that one! DD: Broken in half, and all Nelson is going to have to do is make the cover here. JR: Nelson rolls Irons over and looks like he's going to go for the cover, this could be one of the quickest matches in GIW history. ONE! T- KICKOUT! [Pop from the crowd!] JR: Corey Irons just says no way as he kicks out before he could get two counted on him. DD: He'll pay for that... this, I command! [Nelson picks up the stunned Irons again, but this time it looks as if Irons is going to fight back as he quickly hits a shot to the stomach of Nelson! There's another shot! Nelson looks stunned, but that only lasts a couple of moments...] DD: Yes! Big headbutt by Nelson! JR: That giant headbutt stopped Corey Irons dead in his tracks. And there's a kick to the midsection.. Nelson with the standing headscissors on Irons and this could spell some serious trouble for Corey Irons. DD: Oh yeah. JR: Nelson lifts him up into the air - "_SLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMM!_" [BIG POP for the move!] JR: POWERBOMB! ALL IMPACT ON THE MAT! DD: He just did break Corey Irons in half. And I do believe that this match is all over.. JR: It doesn't seem as if Leviticus Nelson is going for the cover here, but instead is looking out over this jam packed crowd, none of which seem to be enjoying his arrogance! DD: What are they going to do about it? Seriously? That man is unstoppable. He's made mince-meat of his opponent... JR: Irons is not done yet. DD: Oh, he's done. Stick a fork in him and serve him for Thanksgiving dinner. [Nelson, very slowly, picks Corey Irons up by the top his head and brings him up to his feet. We're only several minutes into the match, but from the moves that Nelson has done, the damage has been done. Nelson pushes Irons up against the back ropes with little effort, as it seems Irons is out on his feet.] JR: Leviticus Nelson with the Irish whip here on Corey Irons. Irons off the farside ropes here, Nelson charges in... [Mixed Poppage from the crowd!] JR: Irons ducks the lariat! Nelson is spinned around.. "_SLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAMMMMM!_" [More mixed poppage from the crowd!] JR: Reverse neckbreaker! And Irons slams the monster's head right into the canvas! Irons with some signs of life has he gets back up to his feet here - Corey Irons is a cold, uncaring man who stated that Nelson isn't a giant when he's laying on his back.. DD: Well that was pretty cool, but how's he going to keep Nelson down there? JR: Nelson back up to his feet here, a bit dazed.. [FOOTBALL INJURY POP!] JR: AND IRONS CRASHES SHOULDER FIRST INTO THE BACK OF LEVITICUS' KNEE! DD: A nasty little tactic, yes. But a good one. Chop the big man down at the legs. [Nelson drops to one knee in some serious pain. Irons doesn't stop there and comes bouncing off the ropes in front of Nelson, Irons again dives forward and this time crashes his shoulder right into the chest of the seven foot monster! Nelson falls to his back and holds his knee in some serious pain.] JR: Corey Irons is playing dirty here, but he's playing to win. DD: Gotta give him some respect, even if these damn fans won't. JR: Irons with a cold stare towards the crowd, and now he picks up the injured big leg of Leviticus Nelson... "_THUUUUD!_" [SH*TE POP!] JR: Ooh! Irons drops his knee straight down onto the joint of Nelson's leg.. he's going to try and break, I bet you. DD: He should kill Nelson too, that's the only way he's going to keep Nelson down. JR: Irons is quickly back up, and it looks like he's going to try and hook the leg of Nelson here... could he be going for his Web of Death!? Yes! It looks like Corey Irons is going to try and make the big man tap out! "_THUUUUUUUD!_" [Poppage.] DD: No! Nelson with enough strength left and shoves Irons between the middle ropes and to the floor below! [Nelson, instead of just trying to stand up, rolls to the outside of the ring and stands up. Irons is still trying to get up himself, but must have taken a nasty fall. The big man rumbles on over to where Corey Irons is..] JR: Nelson again just picks up Irons like a rag doll here and tosses him up against the guardrailing on the outside! DD: No chance for charging in, I don't think Nelson could move that fast right now. JR: Irons pulls himself off of the guardrailing, but he's met with a big right hand by Leviticus Nelson! That one rocks Irons back into the railing! Nelson with two big steps forward... "_THHHHUUUUUDDD!_" [Pop in the crowd!] JR: A Texas sized lariat! And Corey Irons has just been dumped up and over the guardrailing! DD: If Irons was smart, he'd just use this chance to run. [Leviticus Nelson goes to try and lift his leg over the guardrailing, but doesn't seem to be all that comfortable on that knee still. Instead, he heads over to the corner of the railing and begins to pull the two sides apart!] DD: Go over? Go through, baby. JR: Nelson just pulling apart the guardrailings.. DD: You know, this allows these mutants a chance at getting their hands on their idol... me. JR: You're truly a man of the people. DD: I consider myself more like, one flew over the trailer park. [Nelson parts the guardrailing, but before he can make his move into the crowd, Corey Irons springs out of nowhere and connects with a quick flury of punches!] JR: Irons back from the dead here, with a flury! Nelson fights back with a right hand, and that just stops Irons in his tracks. DD: One punch, baby. One friggin punch. JR: Nelson wraps that hand around the throat of Irons! Irons struggles a bit, but it looks like Nelson is going to lift him up... [OH DAMN! POP!] JR: Irons counters with a jawbreaker! And Nelson is stunned after that one. DD: Good, now run! JR: Irons grabs Nelson by the top of the head once again... "_CCLLLLLLAANG!_" [OH FRICKEN NO! POP!] JR: A second jawbreaker, and this time Nelson's chin bounced off of the guardrailing! Incredible counter there by Corey Irons. [Irons pulls Nelson over back towards the ring, and just sort of tosses him aside as he slides back into the ring. Leviticus Nelson doesn't take too long before recovering from the jawbreakers, he's a tad pissed as well, and quickly starts to climb back into the ring.] JR: Irons charges in at Nelson... no! Nelson moves out the way and Irons is crotched on the top rope! DD: Yee-owch! JR: And now Leviticus Nelson has an opening on Corey Irons. DD: And that's more than he needs. JR: Nelson with both of his hands on the top rope? What the- [There is a loud moan from the crowd as Leviticus Nelson pushes down and pulls up on the top rope with his weight. The rope goes down a good foot or so, and then flies back up a foot or so... oh yeah, Corey Irons is still crotched on this rope! And there's the moan!] JR: Irons just got flung off the top rope, the hard way. DD: It won't be hard for a while. JR: Nelson back into the ring, and Irons is in a lot of trouble now. DD: You can say that again. [Nelson waits for Irons to stand back up, and once again. A quick kick to the midsection doubles Irons over in half, Nelson quickly hooks on the standing head scissors.] JR: Another powerbomb!? "_SLLLLLAAAAAAAMMMMMM!_" [CARNAGE POP!] JR: PILEDRIVER! PILEDRIVER! AND NELSON JUST MIGHT HAVE CRUSHED COREY IRONS' SKULL! HERE'S THE COVER, THIS COULD BE IT! ONE! TWO! THRE- [SURPRISED POP!] DD: Where the hell? JR: Corey Irons kicked out at two and a half! He's still got some lift left in him... DD: I bet that was one of those twitches the body does right before it dies. Just some left over electrons firing. JR: Nelson doesn't seem that was possible, and again goes for the cover... ONE! TWO! THRE- [Another pop!] JR: And _again_ Irons kicks out! DD: Some extra electrons? JR: Nelson doesn't seem to pleased by this, and is now letting referee Eli Francois know his disappointment with the count. DD: These fans you hear booing Nelson right now... well, they're morons. That was two of the slowest counts I've ever seen. JR: Is that a professional opinion? DD: Hell yes. [Nelson back up, none too happy, and he quickly picks up Corey Irons again by the head. This time, Nelson wraps his hand tightly around the throat of Irons - Referee Eli Francois is quickly in there to start counting the five count - Nelson hooks the other arm of Irons and goes to lift.] JR: No! Elbow to the side of Nelson! Irons blocks the chokeslam - another shot to the ribs by Nelson! DD: You're just pissing off the giant some more... [OH CRAP! POP!] JR: A kick to the knee by Irons, and Nelson buckles! Oh man, that did some serious damage on the already injured knee of Nelson.. [Nelson yells out in pain as Irons stomps on the knee a couple more times. Irons is able to topple the big man over and grabs him by the leg once again.] "_SLLLLAMM!_" "_SLLLLAMM!_" "_SLLLLAMM!_" [Horry Schilt! Pop!] JR: Three, yes three quick knee drops right into the side of Leviticus Nelson's bad knee! The damage has gotta be incredible there. DD: Irons just doesn't seem to care... I like it. JR: Irons rolls the leg over... FIGURE FOUR! FIGURE FOUR! COREY IRONS HOOKS ON THE FIGURE FOUR! [The crowd pops for the move, and now its Irons trying to really push down the pressure on the figure four. Nelson starts to reach for the ropes, but he's still a few feet short. Eli Francois quickly checks on Nelson to see if he taps... that's a hell no.] JR: Leviticus Nelson doing his best to try and escape this hold, but the damage is being done on the big man.. DD: He needs to try and turn it over if he can't get to the ropes. JR: Nelson's shoulders are flat on the mat, the count... ONE! TWO! THR- JR: He is able to sit up there. But there's still a lot strain in his face. DD: That's like his 'O Face', I'd imagine. JR: His what? DD: His O... Oh nevermind. JR: Nelson trying to inch his way towards the ropes here.. [Nelson reaches out and just misses the ropes. This causes him to throw both of his arms down onto the mat and he begins to twist and turn in the ring. Irons gets a look of shock on his face as the strength of Nelson... ..poppage from the crowd!] JR: Leviticus Nelson is able to turn the figure four over! And that reverses the pressure onto Corey Irons! DD: He might just tap! JR: No! Irons breaks the hold, and now _both_ men are holding their knees in some serious pain. We've gone back and forth, back and forth.. so it's only fitting that both men are now at a stalemate. DD: Your balanced nature pisses me off. [Both guys begin to get back up to their feet, Nelson holds his knee in some serious pain and uses the ropes to get back up, Irons is quicker to his feet and goes back to the attack on Nelson.] JR: A couple of quick rights by Corey Irons and he's able to back the big man up against the ropes, Irons goes for the whip... no! Nelson holds onto the top rope and blocks the move. DD: Irons is going to have to keep on that leg, or it's death. JR: Irons fires in with a quick couple of shots to the chest of Nelson. Nelson seems to be too busy trying to prop himself up against those to block.. [Irons again goes for the whip, and this time he's able to move the big man towards the middle of the ring, but Nelson is able to plant his good leg and reverse the whip - into the ropes goes Corey Irons, he comes off the ropes and Nelson again lifts him up with a gorilla press...] "_SLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAMMMM!_" JR: OH MY! A GORILLA PRESS RIGHT INTO A POWERSLAM BY LEVITICUS NELSON! THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN ENOUGH TO FINISH OFF IRONS... DD: But it looks like the knee of Nelson tweaked a little bit on the canvas and he's in some serious pain, unable to make the cover! JR: Both men are down in the ring. But wait! [The crowd goes nuts as the duo of Harisoto Mashima and Robert Kellan, aka the GIW Tag Champs, begin to make their way towards the ring. Neither man in the ring have noticed the two, but the fans sure have.] JR: Robert Kellan and Harisoto Mashima are slowly stalking towards the ring here. DD: They have no business here! JR: ... DD: What? JR: If you say so. [Just then, Leviticus Nelson is able to drape an arm over the chest of Corey Irons!] JR: There's the cover! ONE! TWO! THREE!? [SHOCKED POP!] JR: NO! COREY IRONS JUST DOES KICK OUT! DD: WHAT!? NO WAY! JR: YES! HE DID! [Eli Francois holds up the "two" proving Jake right.] DD: I guess he did. JR: And now Nelson is back up to his feet, and he's none too happy with the count! Wait! Kellan is up on the ring apron! Robert Kellan just leapt up on the ring apron as it looked like Nelson was going to rip Francois' head off! [Nelson pushes Francois to the side as Kellan gets Nelson's attention, which isn't too hard given their hatred. Nelson and Kellan begin to exchange some serious words... and it's definitely not their recipes for pound cake. Kellan reaches back and just clocks Nelson in the jaw with a punch! The crowd goes nuts as Nelson stumbles backwards.] JR: Mashima is in the ring behind Nelson! DD: Nelson's being triple teamed! How unfair! JR: Mashima leaps up... "_THHHHHHHUUUUUUDDDDDD!_" [OMG! OMG! POP FROM THE CROWD!] JR: REVERSE HURRICANRANA! MASHIMA JUST DROVE THE BACK OF NELSON'S SKULL INTO THE MAT WITH A REVERSE HURRICANRANA! DD: This is so cheap! No, this is beyond cheap! This is Jake's mom cheap! JR: Wha? DD: They're clearing out now! Mashima and Kellan attacked and are pulling back... JR: That's because Corey Irons has just draped his arm across the chest of Leviticus Nelson! DD: Noooo! JR: Eli with the count.. ONE! TWO! THREE! [Pop from the crowd!] JR: DOWN GOES THE GIANT! DOWN GOES THE GIANT! WHAT AN UPSET! AH: The winner of the match.. "EXTREME WAR MACHINE" COREY IRONS!!!!!!!!!!!!! [MASSIVE SHOCKED/HEEL POP!!!] JR: GOOD LORD WHAT A SHOCKER! DD: Shocker my ass.. look at the wifebeater and the foreigner.. they are the cause of this! JR: Irons sliding out of the ring.. [POP!!!] JR: AND FROM THE BLINDSIDE COMES BILLY ROCK!! HE WAS WAITING IN THE AUDIENCE AND HOPPED THE GUARDRAIL!! HE'S POPPING IRONS IN THE BACK OF THE SKULL AS IRONS IS TRYING TO GET AWAY DOWN THE ENTRANCEWAY!! DD: DAMN THE GAY PORN STAR! JR: Rock wailing into Irons as they quickly are reaching the back.. and the entranceway.. they are gonna spill into the back! [Which they do.. as quick as it started.. it ends, at least on camera. Back to the ring.. Kellan has entered the ring with a justifiable grin on his face as Mash stands next to him.. both looking down at the big giant who has gotten to a seated positioned.. eyes and face full of rage.] JR: Robert Kellan Harisoto Mashima turning the tables on the big man tonight.. and if they prolly know what's best for him they'd get the hell out of the ring as soon as pos- [MEGA-HEEL POP!!! as all eyes, except Kellan and Mashima, look towards the entranceway.. at two people. A man and a woman.. the man with a grip on the woman's wrist as he leads her towards ringside!!] DD: HAHAHAHAHA!! SWEET! JR: What the hell?! What the hell is the Scrayper doing with Lydia Kellan?! DD: Bringing her to see the carnage.. everything has consequences! JR: This man is nuts! He's bringing Lydia against her will we shall assume, towards ringside here! [And as they get closer, Kellan and Mash sense something and turn around.. and catch Scrayper and Lydia in the aisleway! Kellan's face flushes red!] JR: OH MY!!! DD: Kellan hates when others may beat up his wife! What a damn baby, he won't share! JR: DIRK! KELLAN'S GONNA GO TO THE OUT- NO! [MIXED POP!!!] NELSON IS UP!! HE GRABS BOTH MASHIMA BY A SHOULDER AND SPINS THEM AROUND!!! [CCCCCCCCCCLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!] [MIXED POP!!!!!!!] DD: DOUBLE CHOKE BY NELSON!! [TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [HUGE, HUGE MIXED POP!!!!!!!!!] JR: DOUBLE CHOKESLAM ON KELLAN AND MASHIMA!!! LEVITICUS NELSON JUST LAID OUT BOTH MEN!! AND NOW SCRAYPER IS LETTING GO OF LYDIA WHO RUNS TO THE BACK!! SCRAYPER QUICKLY SCALING THE ROPES!! DD: THIS IS NUTS.. AND THE GOODNESS! JR: SCRAYPER UP TOP!!! I DON'T KNOW WHO THE HELL HE IS EYEING HERE!! [And he stays up top.. as Nelson rolls out of the ring.. picking up a chair.. the mammoth man only needing to lift it high into the air for Scrayper to lean on the top rope and grab it! HEEL POP!! And with that, Nelson calmly turns his back and walks away from the ring!!] JR: WHY HELP THE MADMAN?! DD: Why cost Nelson his match?! JR: SCRAYPER LEAPS!! [And falls.. ..pulling that chair underneath hm.. ..as he kicks out his legs.. TTTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!] DD: WHAT A MOVE!!! JR: THE SCRAYPER WITH AN ARABIAN FACEBUSTER FLUSH ON THE SKULL OF MASHIMA!!! HE TARGETED THE MAN HE SEEMINGLY HAS STARTED TO OBSESS!! THIS MAN IS GONE!! GONE!! DD: Gone how? JR: He's lost it! DD: Oh, granted. But he's surely cool. JR: Scrayper back up.. Kellan getting back up and diving for the Scrayper! [Sigh!] JR: But the Scrayper took fast and slipped out of the ring!! But the damage has been done! DD: Everything.. is breaking down. This is superior quality! JR: Most definitely.. everything is breaking down as you said.. the ring is finally being cleared of everybody.. and we've got one huge match left on deck.. DD: But first! JR: How did you know? DD: I've got your voice patterns down. JR: Bah. But first.. I hear we have the Heavyweight champ and Sierra in the back.. let's go to that cluster- DD: JAKE! [Open up on a room. Dark, empty, and lit only by a single flickering candle kissing a wooden match stick held up by a dainty, cream skin colored hand. Slick black fingernails hold the match stick for but a moment to the candle before slowly pulling it away. The camera scrolls back from the figure’s arm and locks on the frighteningly jovial face of the woman. It is Sierra Hayes] [As the deep blue pools of her eyes remain focused on the shimmering flame, she gently lets out the tiniest of breaths causing the flame to dance upon its wick perch. Her soft, pink lips begin to curl as a whisper escapes from them.] Sierra: This will set the mood for a wondrous night, won’t it baby? [Silence..] Sierra: Baby? [The camera widens more to allow a fuller vision of the room to be seen. Behind Sierra we find the large frame of a man covered in dusty black jeans, boots and a tank top. As the camera moves closer to the figure, beads of sweat pour down his face, soaking into the long black vines of hair that hang beside his bloodshot eye and the thick black eye patch above his right cheek. The figure can only be one man.. "Bad Eye" McBaine. The beast of a man breathes deeply as Sierra approaches with a somewhat frustrated look upon her face.] Sierra: Why don’t you answer me when I speak to you? [McBaine’s eye fixates on the grungy floor of the room and slowly his chin bows. McBaine’s eye shuts, only to reopen seconds later, yet nothing is born from his mouth.] Sierra: You know something baby, I’m beginning to think that I’m the ONLY one trying to give anything to this relationship. I mean, all you ever do is just sit there and look at nothing. You don’t even look at me as intensely as you look at the floor. [Sierra pulls a few strands of her black hair from her face and wraps it around the back of her ear as she stand right besides him.] Sierra: Last week you didn’t even make the announcement about us. Don’t get me wrong, I love that you came to my rescue when those idiots tried to put their hands on me but.. [She stops noticing that McBaine has not moved at all.] Sierra: Are you even listening to me??? [She reaches out to touch McBaine’s shoulder to which he responses abruptly shrugging her off. Her eyes widen suddenly, horrified at his reaction. She grits her teeth and walks away from him and to a rusty mini fridge in the corner of the room. She opens the fridge, removes a bottle of water and a small brown, pill container. She pulls the cover of the container off and pours two neon green pills into her hand.] Sierra: Well you know what? I’m not gonna sit here and let you bring me down. If you wanna sit here and be all mopey, go right ahead. [She stands up, walks over to McBaine, and drops the pills and the bottle of water in his lap.] Sierra: Be pissy if you want, but I’m gonna enjoy myself tonight. Just make sure to talk your medicine. [She bends over to kiss McBaine on his cheek which never happens because he instinctively pulls away from her. She pulls back quickly as she glares at him, gritting her teeth. Within a moment she storms from the room. Cut.] DD: I can only imagine what those pills actually are. JR: I'm sure it's a mix of pain killers.. and acid. DD: Jake! JR: I'm not condoning, but that Sierra Hayes is gone. DD: I.. have to agreed. But she's got strikingly beautiful melons. JR: Well.. on that note.. let's hear from Bobby Ray Wilkins before we send it over to Antonio Hervez for the introductions to the main event.. DD: THE VIOLATOR! [We cut to the back of the arena, where the "Legendary Career Violator" Bobby Ray Wilkins is pacing back and forth in his locker room, wielding a lead pipe. Wilkins's face alternates from being worried, frightened, to pure rage, and back again as Bobby Ray looks at the camera briefly before continuing.] BRW: Ya know, t'night was 'posed to be a wonderful night... for tha first time in GIW, Ol' Bobby Ray's main eventing! That's right! Me! Ah'm in tha main event... not any of them other summamabitchin' bastards that have been in the main event before me when they shouldn't have... nuh-uh, _me_! Finally! Along with Otto Verohoven, Bobby Taylor, and that hump necked bastard Doyle Woodall. Goddamn spotlight stealers... 'cept for Taylor 'cuz he's my partner and all, but Otto and Woodall can kiss mah ass! [Pause.] BRW: Actually Ah ain't got no problem with Otto- 'specially if he's watchin' this- 'cuz Ah'm sure that little drop on tha head he gave me at tha last show was jus' a way to let me know not to turn my back on any regular ol' summamabitch. Yeah, that's it... he was jus' givin' me advice is all. So he don't have to kiss my ass or nuthin'. Yeah. [Wilkins looks at the lead pipe in his hands.] BRW: Ah wouldn't wanna have to take ol' Bessie to the back of that bratwurst-finger-havin' summamabitch no way... nuh- uh, sure wouldn't wanna like to do that... So Ah ain't gonna! Nawh, son! Bessie- uh, this here lead pipe? It's for Woodall! It's got Woodall's name on it, see? [Wilkins goes to swing the pipe at the camera, and lets out a phlegmy laugh.] BRW: Haw! You got to be fast around Ol' Bobby Ray! Ah'll put yer damn lights out with this here pipe, ya know! [Wilkins takes a few more practice swings.] BRW: Yeah... yeah... tonight, Ah feel it! Main eventing for tha first time in GIW an' it's been a long time comin'! This goddamn abortion of a organ-i-zation has been holdin' me back since day one- Ah ain't got no title shots, Ah ain't had no more than four matches, and Ah been oppressed by a goddamn ghost! No more! No more! No more! [Fear him.] BRW: Tonight is a beginnin' of a new era... _mine_! Ah ain't gonna be held back by nobody named Doyle Woodall, none of these here disrespectful fans, and surely none of y'all stupid summamabitches who think they got one up on tha Legendary Career Violator! Startin' t'night? Any one of you goose-lipped bastards that pisses me off is gonna end up goin' home in a titty bag. A lil'. Itty. Bitty. Titty. Bag. [Yeah!] BRW: Get ready, G-I-W, 'cuz I reckon that yer finally gonna find out how real men from Texas rassle! HAW! [Fade.] DD: WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! BRW MAIN EVENTING RULES!! JR: Oh, I bet. DD: Indeed! JR: Fans.. whoever is left after having to listen to BRW that is.. let's kick it over to Antonio Hervez for the introductions to our huge main event.. [The crowd begins to mutter as the familiar opening chords to Metallica's "Until it Sleeps" blares over the Marina’s sound system.] #Where do I take this pain of mine #I run but it stays right by my side [A HUGE heel pop ignites over the jam-packed Sand Dollar as the camera zooms its way up the make-shift aisle finally stopping at the curtains. The curtains open slowly as a cream colored, female leg painting is ink drawn images stretches its way into the isle. Within a moment Sierra Hayes steps out into the isle. The cat calls commence appreciating her choice of apparel for the night of a pair of black latex shorts, black boots and white halter top, allowing her various tattoos of McBaine’s life and times to be seen by all. In her hands she holds the Grand Isle Wrestling Heavyweight Championship as if it was her most prized possession.] JR: Great. Now what does this lady want? DD: Maybe she’s decided to dump McBaine and come after a REAL man. JR: Look what she’s done to McBaine. Now imagine what she’ll do to you? DD: Mmmmm! Kinky!! #So tear me open, pour me out #The things inside that scream and shout #And the pain still hates me #So hold me until it sleeps [Sierra quickly makes her way down to the ring, waving at all of the masses as if they were actually loving her. Once she gets to the ring, she enters it and asks for the mic from ringside.] JR: Well this is certainly interesting. Where’s McBaine? DD: Shut up for a second and let her speak. [Sierra gleefully prances around the ring, waving at the crowd for a few moments before finally speaking..] Sierra: HELLLOOOOO!!! GRAND ISLE WRESTLING !!!! [The HOMETOWN POP brings an even bigger smile to her face.] Sierra: Now I know that two weeks ago during my first Grand Isle show, things didn’t move as smoothly as I thought they would. I know that there was a SLIGHT miscommunication last week and well, some people had to pay for that miscommunication. But I TRULY hope that all of you WONDERFUL fans out there realize that what happened last week was NOT _MY_ fault! I’m not some psycho bitch like some _ANNOUNCERS_ would like to make me out to be! [HEEL POP!] DD: THAT WAS ALL RODGERS!! I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT!!! JR: Oh grow a set, Dirk. [All of a sudden a "PSY---CHO----BITCH!!!" chant spreads throughout the Marina like wildfire. Sierra’s smile gradually begins to fade as she finally begins to understand what they are saying. Her bottom lip tremble a bit as she tries to block them out.] Sierra: So since all of you great fans out there are _SOOOO_ understanding I know that you won’t take that first impression of me as the real story. As the real ME-- ["PSY - CHO - BITCH!! PSY - CHO - BITCH!!"] ["PSY - CHO - BITCH!! PSY - CHO - BITCH!!"] ["PSY - CHO - BITCH!! PSY - CHO - BITCH!!"] [Sierra freezes in the ring, as her lips rapidly contorts into a vicious sneer.] Sierra: LIKE I WAS SAYING... LAST WEEK MY BABY AND I WERE GOING TO MAKE A BIG ANNOUNCEMENT TO YOU LOVELY PEO-- ["PSY - CHO - BITCH!! PSY - CHO - BITCH!!"] ["PSY - CHO - BITCH!! PSY - CHO - BITCH!!"] ["PSY - CHO - BITCH!! PSY - CHO - BITCH!!"] JR: These fans don’t seem to have taken a liking to this young woman. DD: When you drug up the Heavyweight Champ, hold the top title hostage AND beat up security for thinking groupies need to leave the building---hold on a second, where are all my groupies??? [Sierra drops her hand to her side as she grabs at her head in obvious pain. After a few deep breaths she raises the mic back to her lips.] Sierra: FINE... YOU WANNA CALL ME NAMES???? YOU WANNA MAKE FUN OF ME??? [Her eyes fall on the curtain down the isle.] Sierra: TREVVVVOOOOORRRRRRRRR!!!! [HUGE HEEL POP as in a second of calling his name, McBaine pops out from behind the curtain, but not by himself. In the grasp of his blood right hand is a rather thin looking, balding man in pale blue jumpsuit which is now stained crimson with blood leaking from his forehead.] JR: WHAT IN THE HELL!??!?!?! DD: HEY! I KNOW THAT GUY! THAT’S THE JANITOR!! JR Why is McBaine dragging a defenseless JANITOR to the ring??? First security guards last week, NOW a JANITOR??? What in the hell is the _point_ of all this??? DD: Well last week, those guards tried to throw the Champ’s fiancée out of the building. Maybe this janitor didn’t fix her toilet like she asked? [McBaine drags the janitor to the ring, tosses him under the bottom rope and quickly follows him in. Sierra smiles sadistically as she sees the weakened man flop around the ring like an injured seal. She motions to McBaine, who quickly grabs the man by the neck and drags him over to her.] Sierra: Now see what ALL you people have gone and done??? Because EACH and EVERYONE of you had to go and believe that crap that the announcers have been saying about me I’ve decided that I’m going to have to make ANOTHER example for you people to learn from! ALL because you people are so FUCKING HARD HEADED!!!! [HEEL POP!] Sierra: So what’s gonna happen right now is that our little friend here...what’s your name, fella? [Sierra holds the mic to the man’s shaky lips as blood trickles all down his face.] Man: B-B-Bob [Sierra smiles lovingly at Bob as she runs a single finger across the blood-soaked cut on his forehead. She then takes the blood and holds it close to her lips.] Sierra: Well "BOB" is this the first time you’ve ever gotten to be the center of attention in a GIW ring? [She tenderly places the bloody fingertip into her mouth and gently sucks it.] Sierra: From the taste of things, I think we have a VIRGIN here! [HUGE HEEL POP!] [Sierra giggles to herself as she then blows a kiss to McBaine who pays no attention to it. She then looks out around the Marina and points at the fans.] Sierra: So this is what I think we’re gonna do. Since people DON’T want to give me a fair shake at things... and call me... ‘names’... I think that Bob here will have to take the punishment for all of you F[BEEP]-ED fans out there! [McBaine hoists the frail man into the air with a double choke as he squirms between his fingertips.] JR: YOU CAN’T DO THAT!?!?! WHERE’S OUR SECURITY?!?!?!? SOMEONE’S GOTTA STOP THIS!!! DD: Look what happened to them LAST TIME they met! McBaine laid them ALL OUT!!! [Sierra saunters around McBaine and the writhing Bob, hungrily licking her lips.] Sierra: Unless of course YOU fans out there can change my mind? ["PSY - CHO - BITCH!! PSY - CHO - BITCH!!"] ["PSY - CHO - BITCH!! PSY - CHO - BITCH!!"] ["PSY - CHO - BITCH!! PSY - CHO - BITCH!!"] [Sierra’s face suddenly washes over with an intense rage.] Sierra: STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLES !!!! [TREMENDOUS HEEL POP!] Sierra: RIP HIS FUCKING HEAD OFF BABY!!! [HUGE CROWD POP!] [Just then, the guitar stylings of Chet Atkins fills the Marina, bringing the fans to their feet for the familiar song, "Classical Gas". The fans get louder as a big figure storms down the aisle and gets himself into the ring to save the GIW custodian.] JR: CITY JACK! CITY JACK! City Jack has come back to GIW to save that janitor! DD: NO! Damnit, no! That fat bastard was supposed to be gone! JR: Thank goodness he didn't! He's here to stop those two dispicable people from attacking another innocent person. DD: Hey, don't get in the ring if you can't hang with the champ. JR: But that janitor didn't go in willingly! DD: No, I was talking to the tubs in the ring. [Yes, the one and only City Jack has arrived, back home, to the GIW! He immediately shoves McBaine away from the janitor and then backs away with the trembling Bob, CJ wagging a finger at the livid Sierra as he does so.] CJ: No you don't! Not again, you foul woman! Don't you dare try any more of that there pissin' on these workers or I sware I'll lay a fist right into that ugly mug! [HUGE crowd pop as Sierra loses it, yelling to her mate to rip apart the Liberty native. As McBaine tenaciously approaches, City Jack makes sure to tell Bob the janitor to exit to safety.] CJ: Hey, hey, back up now, pitbull. I ain't here to hurt ya... yet. [The crowd cheers as Jack gives the two a stern look... but then just smiles at the duo in the ring. Jack wisely steps around the two to the other side of the ring for his own safety.] CJ: Now, before I get layin' into you two pieces of you-know-what, I've do got somethin' to say here. Now, ya'll thought this fat sob was going away, right? Thought City Jack blew right on out of here and was goin' back home. [Jack nods as the crowd murmurs.] CJ: Well, I saw that there video earlier, shownin' me moving my stuff out of that old house o' mine. Well, I'll tell ya, I did move on out of there... But I sure didn't move out of here, out of the Grand Isle! [Loud pop from the crowd, which Jack tries to amplify with some left-arm waving. Meanwhile, Sierra's teeth grind sadistically watching the display while McBaine eyes the round man, slowly brewing with wrath.] CJ: I had to move more towards the center of it all, right in the Isle, so I did done that. So, no, City Jack ain't leavin'... I sure had thoughts, though. [City Jack nods.] CJ: I had them thoughts right when that Rembrandt snapped this here arm. [Jack points to his still-casted right arm.] CJ: In fact, I was all but gone... All but gone, ready to get the goin' up back home. I figured on stayin' one more night around these parts, looking around the whole Isle for that day and then sitting back and watching the GIW on the tel-e-vision. Well, I'll say this... You all fans, you can thank these two people here for bringing me back! [Jack smiles as the crowd roars again, and then gives starts clapping for McBaine & Sierra. Sierra takes a few steps closer to Jack, her tattooed chest heaving in anger.] CJ: Ya see, once I saw you McBaine, and your... ya screwed up second half there bullying up those two good guys last time around... Man, I had to buy them two dinner jus' to fix what went wrong - and that was at the hospital, mind you all. But once I saw you two pickin' on them folks, I had to come back - I know what they've going through cause I've been there. And believe you me all, McBaine and especially you - [City Jack points to the seething Sierra.] CJ: You all get the same treatment soon enough, I'll tell ya. And, yes, especially you, you foul, loon of a woman! [Another large crowd pop as Sierra's eyes lighten in disbelief.] CJ: And, say, I didn't catch it before, but what's your name there? Sierra: Sie - [Jack immediately looks to the crowd and tells them to chant... "PSY - CHO - BITCH!! PSY - CHO - BITCH!!" "PSY - CHO - BITCH!! PSY - CHO - BITCH!!" "PSY - CHO - BITCH!! PSY - CHO - BITCH!!"] [Sierra's hands begin to shake violently as her head darts to and from all corners of the Marina which are now all alive with the chant. In seconds she runs to the turnbuckle, arms waving frantically.] Sierra: SHUT UP !!! SHUT UP!!! PLEASE JUST SHUUUUUTTTTTTTPPPPPPPPP!!! [Jack begins to wave again to the crowd to continue the chant, when suddenly McBaine steps eye to eye with him. Jack's joival demeanor aburptly becomes serious as neither man says a word to each other, both waiting for the other to make a move.] JR: We have a staredown Dirk! Tensions are running HIGH between these two men!! DD: Tubby better which what he says about McBaine's woman or ELSE!! Look at what he did to Russ Brady!! [All of a sudden Sierra shoves herself right inbetween the two mammoth men. As she brings the microphone to her lips, she points a shaky finger dead center at Jack.] Sierra: I know what you're trying to do! [Her head swiftly nods repeatedly.] Sierra: I'm on to your little game... CJ: And what would that be, little lady? [Sierra nervously moistens her lips while watching Jack closely.] Sierra: Y-y-you're just JEALOUS! [HEEL POP!!!] Sierra: Y-yeah, that's right. JEALOUS! After the Nightmare in New Orleans, you had nothing. Y-yeah... nothing. No title, no undefeated streak, no health... you had nothing but that big, fat d-disguishing gut of yours. But you saw my Blood Muffin and everything that he STILL had coming out of a show that almost ended your career. M-my baby had _OUR_ TITLE, _OUR_ STREAK... _OUR_ EVERYTHING! And you being the opportunist you are... you think you can get at my baby, ruffle his feathers and maybe save some pride here in the GIW. [She slowly shakes her head.] Sierra: Well it's not gonna happen.There was a time when you and my baby were undefeated champions... there _WAS_ a time when you could almost be compared to my baby... ON PAPER! But take a good look at things now, Jack. _WE_ have EVERYTHING!! And that's the way it's gonna stay. Cause you're not worth _OUR_ time! [Jack laughs a bit and shakes his head.] CJ: What, you think this here all is about him, that pitbull? Or that title he's been wearing all this long ol' time? Or even just trying to get some glory back that I lost? Sure, I'd like to get that win from way on back... And my big waist is one bare barrell without a title, I'll say, but... [City shakes his head again.] CJ: No, m'am, this here's about you. [Jack taps his index finger on her nose which she almost bites right off!] CJ: You see, this here is me trying to get you away from what used to be a man. Before all this, he wasn't no angel, that's for sure. If I could, I'da put him down and make him eat his big ol' words. But at least he did do what was right by him... in his own way. He made his own choices and had to deal with his own damned consequences. [Jack steps a little closer, nearing to Sierra.] CJ: But you, you filthy drug-whorin' hag - you've taken what used to be a feared, bloodlustin', bruising machine of a man into just a plain machine... A damned toy for you play with, tryin' to act like your somebody special and not the damned failure ya are. Me, I like women - love 'em to the core. But you? Well, let's just say you ain't no woman to me. And... Well, as long as this fat sob's here? [Jack nears Sierra again, not even thinking about McBaine.] CJ: I'll do whatever my bones can bare to break you away from him, throw you out like the trash you are, and - God willin' and God forgiven - bring back "Bad Eye" McBaine, the man. And it starts - oh, forgive me for tryin' to hit a fe- male... But it's on tonight! [Jack goes to wind up, but McBaine's already behind Jack and... GRABS hold of Jack's arm causing him to turn right around.] JR: City Jack right about to unload on Sierra BUT McBaine has stopped him and now they are just face to face! Listen to this crowd!! THEY'RE ABOUT TO BLOW THE ROOF OFF OF THIS PLACE!! DD: FINISH THE JOB REMMY STARTED, CHAMP!!! JR: Neither man backing down an inch. Both just waiting for that ONE first mov-- [HUGE HEEL POP!!!] DD: SIERRA WITH THE TITLE FROM BEHIND!! [Jack stumbles forward from the title blow to the back of the head into McBaine's awaiting arms.] JR: McBaine laying into the back of the neck of City Jack and then sends him into the far corner chest first! [ THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD !!!!] JR: Jack is staggering out of that corner backwards-- DD: Look at Sierra, she's going CRAZY in the ring!! JR: Sierra Hayes is SCREAMING at McBaine to get Jack! McBaine runs up behind the staggered Jack--WAISTLOCK!!! [ THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD !!] JR: BACKDROP DRIVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! [McBaine quickly jumps to his feet and then mounts Jack ready to bury his earger fists in his face, but as soon as he does Sierra grabs his arm and pulls him off of Jack.] DD: NO NO NO!! LET HIM FINISH HIM!! [Sierra shoves McBaine back into the corner of the ring and the quickly returns to the fallen fatman, standing over him, holding the GIW Championship in one hand and a microphone in the other. She lays the title on Jack's chest, as a sadistic grin has now found a home on her lips.] Sierra: It's about _ME_ is it?? You wanna throw _ME_ out like trash?? [SMAAAAAACCCCCKKKKKK !!] Sierra: I _AM_ THE CHAMPION OF THIS FEDERATION!!! DON'T YOU EVER TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!!! [SMAAAAAACCCCCKKKKKK !!] [SMAAAAAACCCCCKKKKKK !!] JR: That BITCH!! Someone has got to put a stop to this! DD: Yeah, didn't Jack try to save the janitor?? He brought this on himself! [Sierra bends down and gets close to the Liberty natives now redden face.] Sierra: You know something Jack... I could have had you right here... RIGHT NOW... but no... I didn't want it that way. No, no, no... you're gonna get something worse. Where in other places, SOME PEOPLE might be satisfied with leaving you in a heap like this... _I'M_ a fighting champion... sooooo.... I'll give ya a fighting chance... [Sierra bends her face closer to Jack's so now that mere inches separate them.] Sierra: Later tonight, if you're the _MAN_ you say you are... show up and DO what you CLAIM you can do... [Sierra pulls back to slap the fatman once more... FACE POP!!!] DD: CITY JACK HAS THE CHAMPION BY HER NECK!!! SECURITY RODGERS!! WE NEED SECURITY !!!! [In a moment's notice McBaine jumps on City Jack laying into him with thick forearm shots to the bridge of the nose, freeing Sierra from Jack's grasp.] JR: This two-on-one has GOT to stop! DD: Are you advocating HITTING A WOMAN!?!? You and Kellan are all the same! [Sierra stumbles away from the two men clawing at her neck. She quckly grabs the title from the ground and then a handful of McBaine's hair, dragging him off of Jack and from the ring. The duo head to the back as Jack crawls to his knees watching them in the ring.] JR: JESUS CHRIST!! WILD!! WILL JACK ANSWER THE CHALLENGE!! DD: If he's sane he won't. JR: But now we must go to our main event.. Antonio Hervez.. take it away. AH: Ladies an' gentlemen.. our next contest is the MAIN EVENT OF THE EVENING!! [POP!!].. and it is a tag team contest scheduled for one fall.. with a thirty meenute time leemit.. introducing first.. ["Atomic Clock" by Monster Magnet begins to blast throughout the venue, as Bobby Ray Wilkins emerges from the back to a chorus of boos. Wilkins stands still for a moment, various complaints streaming from his mouth a mile a minute, as he stalks to the ring, shaking his head and not looking too happy about having to wrestle. Wilkins is dressed in a pair of blue jeans, black cowboy boots, and a black leather vest, and slides the vest off, dropping it on the floor as he enters the ring and heads to the corner, yelling a few more complaints at the crowd as he waits for his partner.] AH: In the ring at this time.. he weighs in tonight at 254 pounds.. and he hails from Houston, Texas.. here is.. "VIOLATOR" BOBBY RAY WILKINS!!!!!!!!!!! [BIG TIME HEEL POP!!! as Wilkins just shrugs it off and awaits his partner still.] AH: And his partner.. ["Back In Black" starts up to a massive heel pop from the GIW faithful for the man they want to love but love to hate. "The Outlaw" Bobby Taylor strides through the curtain... in his street clothes. He's wearing exactly what he was earlier in the night when he arrived at the building: black "Absolute Fucking Zero" T-shirt, black jeans, cowboy boots, and the Stetson. He rolls under the bottom rope, ignoring the jeering fans.] AH: In the ring at this time.. he weighs in tonight at 270 pounds.. and he hails from Phoenix, Arizona.. here is.. "THE OUTLAW" BOBBY TAYLOR!!!!!!!!!! [BIG TIME HEEL POP!! as he just glares down the entranceway.] AH: And their opponents.. introducing first.. [Suddenly, the opening riffs of Thin Lizzy's "Jailbreak" fill the arena!] AH: Now making his way to the ring... [The entrance curtain splits and "Dirty" Doyle Woodall, clad in a baggy blue jeans and black Wolverine work boots, makes his way out to the top of the ramp. The fans shower him with boos as Woodall, a cigar clenched between his teeth, makes his way down the aisle towards the ring...] ### Tonight there's gonna be a jailbreak ### ### Somewhere in this town ### ### See, me and the boys we don't like it ### ### So we're gettin' up and goin' down ### ### High and low, lookin' right to left ### ### If you see us comin' I think it's best ### ### to move away, do you hear what I say? ### ### From under my breath ### [Woodall reaches ringside, stops to point a finger at and jaw with a fan at ringside, then climbs up the steps and through the ropes into the ring...] ### Tonight there's gonna be a jailbreak ### ### Somewhere in the town ### ### Tonight there's gonna be a jailbreak ### ### So don't you be around ### ### Don't you be around ### AH: ... from Las Cruces, New Mexico... weighing in at 270 pounds... "DIRTY" DOYLE WOODALL! [The crowd continues to boo as Woodall, the cigar still clenched between his teeth, steps to center-ring, grins wickedly, and throws both fists into the air!] AH: And his partner.. [Strobe lights start to flash in the arena as the crowd instantly POPS LIKE MAD!! In synch, the haunting theme of John Carpenter's "Halloween" starts to blare. Then the huge shape of Otto Verhoeven steps into the aisle. He stops for a moment to look at the stands with a look of disgust on his face, then marches toward the ring, not acknowledging the crowd at all. The German's movements are tense and his jaw is working all the time. He slowly climbs the ring steps to enter the ring. Verhoeven takes a moment to glare at the referee before he moves into the center of the ring and raise a gloved fist above his head. The salute lasts only a few seconds before he lumbers back into his corner.] AH: In the ring at this time.. he weighs in tonight at 340 pounds.. and he hails from Essen, Germany.. here is.. OTTO "THE BUTCHER" VERHOEVEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!] ------------------------------------------------------ Grand Isle Wrestling: Main Event Tag Team Warfare!!!! Otto Verhoeven/Doyle Woodall vs. Bobby Taylor/BRW Written By: Mike Gilliland ------------------------------------------------------ [DING!! DING!! DING!!] JR: And fans.. here we go.. the big main event.. DD: There has got to be more weight in that ring at once than ever before.. perhaps even counting our first show ever's battle royal.. there are some hogs in there. JR: That there are.. and it looks like The Outlaw and The Dirty One ready to start this off for their respective teams.. I'm a little surprised Otto didn't get in there when he saw Taylor.. DD: He's scared. JR: I doubt that. Maybe he's gonna let Taylor get comfortable before smashing him like a bug. DD: Cute. JR: Regardless.. Woodall and Taylor pacing in the right now as they eye each other down.. a king-sized lock-up as Taylor down to a knee and back up quickly.. now Woodall down to a knee as they jockey for position.. and into the ropes they go.. as they twist and spin and get dumped into the corner.. Taylor backfirst as Eli in and issuing Woodall to release the tie-up.. DD: Which he does and even backs away? WEAK. [A good show of sportsmanship by Woodall for once as they both back into the center of the ring.. Taylor smirking before locking up again.] JR: Let's try it again as they lock-up.. and immediately back to the ropes they go.. this time Woodall twisted and dumped into the corner.. as Francois once again issues the count for the break.. which Taylor does this ti- [SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!] [Heel Pop!] DD: Not so fast! Taylor with three lightning quick chops to the ghost has him reeling! [SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!] JR: Not so fast on your end as Woodall comes back with three shots of his own that backs Taylor into the center of the ring.. Woodall lunges with the clothesline, but Taylor ducks! Woodall using his momentum to run off the ropes.. on the return but Taylor ducks! [Thud! Booo!] JR: And sends Woodall crashing backfirst onto the mat with a huge back bodydrop! DD: And the beast.. BRW wants in! [And Taylor gives in.. Slap!] JR: And here comes the wanna-be cowboy, Bobby Ray Wilkins. DD: Wanna-be! This man is lethal! And he's a ghost-hunter! JR: The ghost hunter as Dirk calls him.. laying the boots to a kneeling Woodall.. overcoming the big man with the boots as Woodall drops back to the mat trying to cover up. BRW off the ropes real quick.. [Thud!] and a kneedrop to the back of Woodall's head! BRW up and running again! [Thud!] And another! DD: The Violator has come to play! JR: That he has as he quickly lifts Woodall to his feet.. BRW backing away a few feet as he raises the cast into the air! [HEEL POP!!!] JR: He's gonna go for the LARIAT EARLY! Woodall turns to face! BRW unleashes! [POP!] And Woodall ducks out of the way out of pure instinct! [TTTHHHHUUUUDD!!!] [POP!!!] JR: And Woodall follows through with a beautiful neckbreaker! The co-.. no! [Booooo!!] DD: And BRW is such a genius! Wisely slipping to the floor and walking back around to Taylor and his corner.. getting away from that dastardly freak of nature Doyle Woodall! JR: BRW climbing back into the ring.. Woodall immediately giving chase.. [Slap!] but he gets the tag out to Taylor! Woodall grabs BRW from behind.. [Thunk!] [Heel Pop!] DD: And BRW instinctively kicks back and caught Woodall in the nuggets as he was exiting the ring! Woodall doubled over as Taylor in.. he runs.. [Thwap!] and a running kneelift takes Woodall down to the mat.. and hard! The quick cover! JR: One! Tw-kickout! DD: Not a bad choice there, gotta keep him winded. JR: Whatever you say. Verhoeven almost came crashing in to make the save on principle but Francois has stopped him and demands him back into the corner.. [Heel Pop!] as BRW now entering the ring! Taylor picking up Woodall.. Irish whip as Taylor and BRW await in the center of the ring! Woodall on the return.. he's caught!! [TTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!] [HEEL POP!!!!!!] JR: OH MY! What a double flapjack by BRW and Taylor! BRW exiting the ring as Francois turns back to face the legal men! Taylor with another cover! One!!!!!!!! Two!!!!!!!! Kickout!!!! [POP!!!!] DD: Gah! Close, but we need to hurt this little bitch a tad more apparently. JR: We? DD: Damn straight. [Woodall rolls around clutching his back and head which bounced off the mat.. as Taylor back up.. Heel Pop! as he spits on The Dirty One!] JR: Real sportsmanlike! DD: I know! JR: That was sarcasm. DD: Poorly done, Mongolian Clusterfu- JR: DIRK! DD: Just keeping you on your toes there, Jake. JR: I bet.. and now Taylor hoisting Woodall, who desperately needs a tag here, back to his feet.. Taylor shoves the big man into a corner before starting to kick away at the stomach of the Dirty One.. Woodall doing nothing to cover up those shots, absorbing them all right in the gut. DD: A big one, at that. JR: Not really. DD: You love the cock. JR: [sighs] Big Irish whip and across the ring goes Woodall! Late follow by Taylor as Woodall hits the turnbuckle hard.. but runs right out! [Thud! Pop!] And catches Taylor square in the face with a vicious lariat! Both men are down! [And now the crowd starts to get behind Woodall who starts to crawl towards Otto as Taylor quickly tries to pull back all his faculties.. will he be in time?] DD: Hurry up Bobby! JR: Taylor back to his feet! He leaps! [Slap!] [MEGA-POP!!!] JR: TOO LATE!! IN COMES OTTO! Taylor is shocked! Big left by Taylor, blocked! And Otto lays into him with a huge right! And another! And another! Otto grabs Taylor in and lifts! [TTTTTHHHHUUUUUUDDDDDDD!!!!!!] [POP!!!!!!] DD: YIKES! JR: Modified Powerslam of sorts out of nowhere! The cover! One!!!!!! Two!!!!!! Kickout!! [BOOOOOOOO!!] JR: So close! Otto slowly but surely climbing to his feet.. Taylor clutching that back as Otto now lifting Taylor back to his feet. Irish whip by the Butcher.. Taylor off the ropes.. BIG BOOT! [Boo!] Ducked by Taylor who continues off the nearside ropes! DD: Yeah, baby! JR: Taylor incoming again.. but Otto catches and turns! [TTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!] [BIG TIME POP!!!!!] JR: OH MY!! WHAT A SPINNING SPINEBUSTER BY THE 350 POUND BEHEMOTH!! THE COVER!! ONE!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! AND BRW SAVES WITH AN ELBOWDROP ACROSS THE BACK OF THE TEUTONIC TERROR'S HEAD! [BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!] [POP!!!] DD: RUN BRW!! JR: Otto right back up and moving towards BRW who immediately slides out of the ring in fright! What a girl! DD: Would you be in there with Otto? JR: Well.. good point. But he's paid to do so. DD: In peanuts. JR: Cashews rock. [Otto returns his attention and scowl on Taylor.. who is now back to a knee.. definitely still out of it though.. the Teutonic Terror wasting no time lifting Taylor back up.. and high into the air over his head!] [Appreciative Strength Pop!!] JR: MY OH MY WHAT POWER!! [Boo!] DD: And Taylor with a rake of the eyes.. and Otto drops him to the mat behind him! Taylor down to a knee.. [HEEL POP!!!] JR: And drives an uppercut between the big man's legs! I don't care how big you are.. that'll wobble the knees! DD: Damn right! JR: Otto bent over now as Taylor grabs the big man by the back of the head! And drives down! [TTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!] [HEEL POP!!!!!!!!] JR: WHAT A GIANT-SIZED REVERSE DDT BY THE OUTLAW!! DD: Thattaway Bobby! JR: And now Taylor back up and going to work on the back of Verhoeven with stinging boots.. Taylor off the ropes.. and a big knee drop! Taking a page out of BRW's book.. what a cold day in Hell this is! DD: You got that right, it's a bit balmy in the Grand Isle tonight. JR: I didn't mean here.. and speaking of oddities.. Taylor was going to tag out but BRW is waving him off! DD: And Taylor is slightly mad.. but I see BRW's point.. I wouldn't wanna be in there even with an injured monster. [Taylor turns back to face Verhoeven, we can see him mouth "G'damn pussy." which gets a decent pop for once.. and another pop as he turns right into a STANDING VERHOEVEN!!] [TTTTTTTTHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!] JR: VERHOEVEN UP AND ABSOLUTELY DECLEATS TAYLOR WITH A RIGHT HAYMAKER!! OTTO OFF THE ROPES!!! HE LEAPS!!! [TTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!] [BIG TIME POP!!!!!!!!!] JR: BIG TIME, GIANT SPLASH!!! VERHOEVEN STAYS FOR THE COVER!!! ONE!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! Th-SHOULDER UP!!! DD: YES!! HE SQUEAKED OUT A SHOULDER AROUND TUBBY BASTARD GUY! JR: The Robfathah is here? DD: Good God no. JR: Verhoeven seemingly a tad frustrated here but decides to get up.. give a boot to Taylor for safe measure.. as he.. [Slap!] JR: Tags out to Woodall! DD: and look at BRW.. he's giving Woodall the finger!! He's taunting the big man with no remorse.. gotta love Wilkins! JR: And he may be able to put the money where his mouth is as Woodall tosses Taylor into his corner.. he's begging BRW to get in the ring!! [Pop!] DD: Go get'im BRW! [Slap!] JR: Wow! In comes BRW! He charges right at Woodall! [POP!!] And gets a face full of mat as The Dirty One countered with a crisp drop toehold! DD: But BRW is back up, sure he's clutching his mouth, but he's right back up! [Thud!] JR: And right back down thanks to a nice right hook to the face by the Dirty One! Quick pick-up by the Dirty One.. Irish whip! BRW on the return! SLEEPER APPLIED BY WOODALL!! [The crowd pops.. and then Woodall looks behind him.. at the wide open space in the ring.. and lifts.. TTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [MONSTER POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] JR: HOLY CHRIST!! SLEEPERHOLD SUPLEX BY WOODALL!!! HE DROPPED BRW RIGHT ON HIS HEAD!! THE COVER!!! ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THRE-KICKOUT!!!!!!!!!!!!! [DISAPPOINTED POP!!!!!!] JR: I cannot believe BRW kicked out, but he did! DD: Nobody can, me included! That was vicious. JR: And delicious? DD: I don't get it. JR: I prolly shouldn't either. DD: Nevertheless, BRW kicked out and this match must go on! JR: That it does.. as Woodall slowly but surely peels BRW off the mat.. [Slap! Pop!] and absolutely slaps the taste right out of the Violator's mouth that spins him around.. and a sleeperhold again! Don't tell me Woodall is gonna do it again?! DD: Yes, yes he is! [HEEL POP!!!] DD: OR NOT!! JR: DAMNIT! BRW kicks back again and hits Woodall right in the groin for the second time this match! BRW grabs back.. and drops! [THUD!!! BOOOOOOOOO!!!] JR: ACE CRUSHER BY THE VIOLATOR!! THE COVER!! ONE!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! SHOULDER UP!!! [BIG POP!!!] JR: ALMOST FOR BRW!! But the Dirty One with the wherewith all to kickout at the last second!! DD: Damn bastard! JR: Poo poo? DD: Can it chump change! [BRW slowly, wobbly gets back to his feet.. using the ropes for leverage.. still groggy even after his big comeback move.. so groggy in fact, that Woodall is already near to his feet.. and BRW can't take advantage.. yet..] JR: A race here.. BRW springing off the ropes as Woodall seems to be lunging for the tag! BRW clubs him in the back! [Slap!] [POP!!] JR: And he essentially pushed the Dirty One right into the waiting hand of The Butcher! Here comes Otto and BRW is running back to his corner.. to Taylor! [POP!!] DD: BUT TAYLOR DROPS OFF THE MAT?! JR: He's giving BRW a bit of his own justice! DD: And BRWs face says it all! [A look of shock.. anger.. fright? He turns back around to face the behemoth of a man RIGHT BEHIND HIM!] [POP!!!] JR: And a huge right! And another! and another! Otto wailing on the Violator in the middle of the ring.. Irish whip.. the Violator on the return.. [THWAP!!! POP!!!!] JR: And what a big boot by the behemoth from Germany! DD: I hate this douche already! JR: Otto wasting no time as Taylor back on the apron.. and digging into his pocket? Otto backing BRW into the ropes.. Irish whip.. reversed by BRW though as Otto goes careening off the nearside ropes of Taylor! [And as Otto reaches.. Taylor drives a fist with something on it.. RIGHT INTO THE SPINE OF OTTO!!] [MEGA, MEGA HEEL POP!!] JR: WHAT THE HELL?! OTTO IS JUST STUMBLING FORWARD AS THOUGH HE WAS HIT BY A BRICK!! BRW CHARGES.. DD: YESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!! [THHHHHHHHHWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!] [SHOCKED HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!] JR: GOOD LORD NO!!! BRW HIT THE LARIAT!! HE HIT THE LARIAT!! THE COVER!! TAYLOR CHARGING IN.. WOODALL CHARGING IN TO MAKE THE SAVE!! ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Woodall reaches the pin.. but gets a sucker punch from that same hand from Taylor.. simply knocking Woodall flat on his back!] THREEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [DING!! DING!! DING!!] AH: Ladies an' gentlemen.. the winners of the match.. "THE OUTLAW" BOBBY TAYLOR AND "THE VIOLATOR" BOBBY RAY WILKINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [MONSTER, MONSTER HEEL POP!!!] JR: This is a travesty!! Both Woodall and Verhoeven are laid out.. Taylor has something around his hand.. [And with that.. Taylor shows the world with a smile on his face!] [MEGA-HEEL POP!!!!!!!] DD: BRASS KNUCKLES!!! AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW YEAH!! JR: Damn this punk!! He cheated his ass off.. he cost Verhoeven and Woodall the big main event.. and he's smirking.. as is the Violator who's begun to kick the downed Woodall! DD: These guys rule soooo much! JR: Taylor, however, seems happy with his mark as he leaves the ring.. BRW now quickly doing so as well.. perhaps not so secure with two behemoths down but certainly not dead and no back-up.. weak. DD: Smart. They won, get out while you can. JR: This is just wrong, man. DD: Wrong? They did absolutely nothing wrong. They won, plain and simple.. if it were Taylor and Wilkins peeling themselves off the mat after a hard fought loss.. you'd have no qualms. [BIG POP!! as both big man rise up and start to head towards the back full o' piss and vinegar! Search party time!!] JR: They stole the match!! Verhoeven and Woodall are up.. and both are storming towards the back!! By God this is nuts.. everything has broken down tonight.. but we gotta go!! We gotta go fa- [The fans get to their feet and cheer on Liberty, Kentucky native son for the first time in about a month as "Classical Gas" by Chet Atkins starts up. The cheer gets louder as City Jack cuts out of the entrance, with a smile wider than ever at the crowd's response. As Jack comes down the aisle, he stops and talks to some of the nearby fans for a couple of seconds - a sign that Jack's happy as ever to be back in the Marina. CJ stops as he gets to the ring, takes a look at it, and then enters it up through the steps - all slowly to take it all in again.] JR: MY GOD!! HE'S COMING OUT TO ANSWER THE CHALLENGE!! JACK IS BACK!! DD: I thought we had to go?! JR: We are getting word we've got extra time.. fans, I don't know what to make of this! It's not an official match.. no word as to whether McBaine is even going to sh- [Suddenly a deep mellow sound of a guitar reverberates through the Sand Dollar 'arena', as a weakened voice speaks over the sound system.] #Where do I take this pain of mine #I run but it stays right by my side [Without a second more, the guitar blares to life as the Metallica's "Until it Sleeps" echoes throughout the Marina. A HUGE heel pop ignites over the jam-packed Sand Dollar as the chaos is swallowed into the night sky. A camera zooms its way up the make-shift aisle finally stopping at the curtains. Suddenly the curtains explode as Sierra Hayes burst into the isle, wrapped in a pair of black latex shorts, black boots and white halter top. The crowd gives her a couple of cat calls which are quickly drowned out by a chorus of boos at the sight of a newly familiar picture in the GIW... the Grand Isle Wrestling Heavyweight Championship on her shoulder.] DD: Here they come! JR: I just can’t believe what I’m seeing, Dirk. No one has been able to touch the Heavyweight title, let alone carry it EXCEPT McBaine since the very START of this federation. And now this lady is walking around here like she owns the title AND this organization! DD: Well there’s one simple reason why she can do it... McBaine is a WHIPPED BITCH! JR: I’d like to see you tell him that. DD: Oh jeeze, look at the time-- #So tear me open, pour me out #The things inside that scream and shout #And the pain still hates me #So hold me until it sleeps [After a few moments, a hand emerges from behind the curtains and slowly begins to pull one of the curtains to the side. A massive figure dressed in black jeans, boots, a tank top with a face hidden behind his matted hair appears in the aisle way. A rather large eye patch can be made out beneath the hair and a litter of wounds stitched closed covers the figure’s body. It is "Bad Eye" McBaine. His stone face shows no emotion as he slowly begins to follow Sierra to the ring.] JR: McBaine.. the champ.. and that foul beast making their way to the ring where Jack is just waving them in.. he's pissed.. he's more intense than we've ever seen the man, and this place is ready to explode! DD: With fecal matter. JR: Christ.. where the hell did that come from? DD: Left field, m'friend, left field. JR: In slides McBaine as Sierra points and yells at City Jack.. [Pop!] who gives her the finger?! DD: It's on now! JR: McBaine charges! [BIG POP!!] JR: And there goes Jack!! He has caught McBaine coming in.. he's lambasting the champ with huge left forearm shots to the face.. backing the champ into the ropes.. Irish whip.. DD: Gah!! I hate City Jack! JR: McBaine on the return.. Jack ducks.. and lifts.. [TTTTTTHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!! POP!!!!!!!] JR: And a _huge_ back bodydrop sends the champ crashing to the mat! [With this.. Eli Francois comes flying out from the back.. motioning for the timekeeper to ring the bell!] JR: Here comes Eli.. what is going on here?! [DING!! DING!! DING!!] DD: They are waving this off! [And that's when Hervez get on the PA.] AH: Ladies an' gentlemen.. we have just been informed.. that this has now become.. an OFFICIAL GIW HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE CONTEST!!! [MONSTER, MONSTER POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] JR: OH MY GOD!! DD: NOOOOOOOOOO!!! JR: McBaine right back up.. he charges Jack.. but Jack catches! [TTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDD!!!!! POP!!!!!!!!!!!] JR: And a huge release belly to belly suplex drops the champ back to the mat and hard! The quick cover! One!!!!!!!!!!! Kickout!!!!!!! DD: Oh c'mon now, Jack! Are you that dense?! A belly to belly? JR: Gotta go for it, you never know. DD: I sure as shit knew. [Jack wastes no time picking the champ back up to his feet as Sierra holds the title belt in her arms on the floor below.. a scowl on her face as Jack blows her a mock kiss! Pop!!] DD: That fat bastard! JR: Sierra making her way onto the apron now.. which can only be trouble as Jack backs McBaine into the ropes.. Irish whip.. reversed by McBaine! City Jack barreling off the far side rop- [HEEL POP!!] and just got rocked in the back of the skull with the Heavyweight title courtesy of that foul wench Sierra Hayes! Jack stumbles forward.. [Thud!] DD: And right into a huge running lariat by the champ! JR: and McBaine not looking to capitalize here as he is shaking his head.. and now he's hitting his head?! DD: His vision may be blurred! JR: From the drugs no less, I'd reckon! And listen to that wench on the outside screaming her head off! She's yelling for McBaine to drop Jack with the Blind Valley Driver.. she wants it ended now as Jack is getting back to a knee! DD: This is insane.. on all fronts. JR: McBaine lifting Jack back to his feet.. big kick.. and another doubles over the challenger here as McBaine looking rather deliberate and.. I must say.. slow.. as he lifts Jack up onto his shoulders! DD: BVD TIME! [Pop! as Jack slips off the shoulders.. and does something rather.. non-fancy!] JR: City Jack with a shouldertackle right into the back of McBaine.. and he's driving him towards the ropes! [TTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!! BIG POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] JR: And Jack just sent McBaine and himself through the ropes and to the floor with a thud!! He's come out with guns a'blazin like we've never seen here in the Grand Isle! DD: Gotta give him that, he's almost lost it.. and that'd make him watchable! JR: Sierra Hayes cussing out Jack as she now is.. searching under the ring?! DD: She better watch out! Jack is going after her now! [That he is.. as the crowd gets into it.. Jack smiling as he stands behind Sierra who has no idea of the behemoth behind her.. as she's got only her ass sticking out from under the ring apron.] JR: Good times right here, and the fans are loving this eventual showdown! DD: Limp dick Kentuckian. JR: Dirk! DD: Fizzuck it. JR: Sierra making her way out from under the ring.. [Hardcore Pop!] and she's got a spoil of barbed wire?! [POP!!!] JR: And now Jack has her by the hair! He's lifting her back to her feet! Sierra: TTTTTTTTRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEVVVVVVVVVVVVOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!! [And with that.. the downed McBaine pops up and charges from around the ringside area.. Jack sees him and turns to face.. blocking a punch!] [HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!] JR: City Jack blocked the big haymaker by McBaine.. but that opened up the opportunity for Sierra to bash him over the head with the spoil of barbed wire! Jack has got to be cut up now as he grasps the back of his head.. and falls right into McBaine! [TTTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!] [HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!] DD: HUGE DDT ON THE CONCRETE BY THE CHAMP!!! YES!! YES!! JR: This is a two on one affair.. this is unfair and there is nothing any of us can do about it! DD: You are damn right about that.. so just sit back and enjoy. JR: Enjoy?! DD: Sure. I am. Sierra: Get a table, Trevor! JR: What a bitch! Sierra demanding McBaine get a table.. DD: And watch him fold like a deck of cards! [Which he does.. McBaine immediately searching under the ring.. pulling out a table.. and begins to set it up on the floor.. meanwhile..] [HEEL POP!!!] JR: She's nuts! Sierra is driving that spoil of barbed wire right into the crimson-masked face of City Jack with her boot! DD: This chick is serious, Jake. Man.. this really is a match made in Hell. JR: McBaine kicking out the legs of the table now as she's continuing her assault.. the table now propped at ringside as she's motioning for McBaine to put the big man on the table.. DD: Which he will! JR: And that he does! City Jack seems quite out of it here as you gotta believe the long lay-off cannot be helping either of these men right now, champ's aside. DD: I have to agree there. [Sierra then points for McBaine to get on the apron.. and..] Sierra: Elbowdrop him through the table, Trevor! [HEEL POP!!!!] DD: She's like a puppet master! JR: No doubt about it.. and look at McBaine climb onto the ring apron! He's gonna elbowdrop Jack from the ring apron through that table! DD: AWESOME!! JR: McBaine up on that apron now.. he's surveying the challenger laid on the table.. and is eyeing him up as he sets to lea- DD: Wait! Sierra is waving him off.. she's climbing to the apron as well! [Shocked Pop!] JR: She seems to be telling him to not do it! [BIG HARDCORE POP!!!] AND NOW SHE'S POINTING AT THE TOP ROPE!! SHE WANTS McBAINE TO HIT THIS FROM THE TOP ROPE?!? DD: Holy Christ! JR: And McBaine seems to be trying to tell her the apron is just fine.. it's equally devastating.. it's wor- [SLAP!!!!!!!!!! OH SHIT POP!!!!!!!!] DD: And she just slapped the taste right out of his mouth! And now he's grudgingly climbing atop the turnbuckle as he drops back down to the floor and starts choking Jack! JR: Sounds like a porn.. but enough of that! DD: Jake! JR: I'm trying to keep my sanity here! [The crowd gets on it's feet as McBaine gets to and stands atop the turnbuckle high above the ground.. as Sierra lets the choke off of Jack pointing for McBaine to drop the pain!] JR: Don't do it McBaine! DD: Bullshit! Leap! JR: And he does! [McBaine leaps high off the turnbuckle.. ..turning for the elbowdrop in mid-air.. ..as he falls.. ..and falls.. ..and falls.. ..FLASHBULBS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.. CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!] [MONSTER, MONSTER HARDCORE _FACE_ POP!!!!!!!!!!] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] ["G-I-W!! G-I-W!!"] JR: McBAINE MISSED!!!! CITY JACK ROLLED OUT OF THE WAY AND McBAINE WAS SENT FLYING THROUGH THE TABLE FROM THE TOP ROPE TO THE FLOOR!!! THE ELBOWDROP STRAIGHT FROM HEEL MISSED!!! MY GOD!! THAT JUST BLEW THE ROOF OFF THIS PLACE!! DD: And Sierra is going nuts!! She may pull her hair out!! JR: Good for her! This is the momentum shift City Jack needed! He was playing possum as he's already back to his feet.. blood streaming off his head but he's got a wicked smile as he sees McBaine laid out amongst the wreckage! DD: No! Sierra, do something! Jack is gonna go for the cover! JR: Jack lifting McBaine back to his feet.. basically having to hold him up as he rolls the champ into the ring.. Jack rolling back in as well! DD: Shit! JR: The cover! And here comes sierra with the belt!! One!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Sierra gets in the ring.] Two!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Th-[TTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!] [OH MY MEGA-HEEL POP!!!!!!!!] JR: THAT BITCH!!! IT DIDN'T LOOK LIKE McBAINE WAS KICKING OUT SO SIERRA DRILLED ELI FRANCOIS.. OUR REFEREE.. RIGHT IN THE BACK OF THE SKULL WITH THE HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE!! DD: SHE RULES!! SHE TRULY RULES!! JR: HOW DARE YOU CONDONE HER!! DD: Run Sierra.. Jack is back up! [And the crowd pops big for the scowl on Jack's face.. as he gets up and grabs the swinging belt from Sierra! POP!!] JR: Jack again has Sierra by the hair! He tosses her through the ropes! [TTTTHHHHUUUUUUDDDDDDD!!!!] JR: And to the floor the crazy bitch goes!! Right on her ass that she's now clutching and the fans are eating this up!! DD: Jack taking a page from Robert Kellan right there! JR: Hey! DD: He is. JR: Jack returning his attention to a bloody mess of a champ now.. as both men are busted wide open.. Jack wasting no time here with all the momentum.. but no referee to make the call as Eli is flat out on the mat! DD: Let McBaine rest, man! JR: Jack lifting McBaine up as he ducks the champ's head under his left arm.. vertical suplex lift here! DD: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! [TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [MEGA POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] JR: OH MY!!! WHAT A SICK BRAINBUSTER BY THE CHALLENGER!!! AND JACK IS RIGHT UP AND TRYING TO AWAKEN THE REF!!! HE'S GOT McBAINE BEAT!!! HE'S GOT McBAINE DOWN FOR THE COUNT!! DD: SHIT!!! JR: FRANCOIS STARTING TO STIR!! JACK TRYING HARD TO GET HIM AWAKE!! DD: NO WAY!! THIS ISN'T HAPPENING!! JR: FRANCOIS UP!! HE'S CRAWLING TOWARDS THE DOWNED McBAINE!! CITY JACK LEAPS AND COVERS!! NEW CHAMP!! NEW CHAMP!! ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEE-SHOULDER UP!!!! [OH MY GOD SHOCKED HEEL POP!!!] DD: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! McBAINE KICKED OUT!! JR: GODDAMN IT!! CITY JACK TOOK TOO LONG.. HE GAVE HIM JUST ENOUGH TIME AND McBAINE KICKED OUT!! SO CLOSE!! DD: BUT SO FAR!! [The crowd letting loose with the booes as they can't believe McBaine's resiliency.. and then start to pop as Sierra Hayes, livid and red to death, begins to dig under the ring again.] JR: And now the She-Devil going back to work searching for.. oh my.. another table! DD: Right on! JR: Sierra slowly getting to work propping that table up at ringside as City Jack slowly back to his feet.. you can just see how heavy he's breathing right now.. DD: He's a fat man.. he's sucking wind, Jake. It will be his demise.. trust me. JR: Jack putting the boots.. slowly but surely into McBaine as sierra continues to work on getting that table up.. Jack slowly lifting McBaine to his feet and dumps him into a corner.. DD: Hope he doesn't splash him, that may kill the poor Bad Eye. JR: Jack laying into McBaine who seems absolutely out of it here with big left forearm shot after left forearm shot.. Jack definitely wary of using that still casted right arm for any pressure or attack.. DD: He's such a girlie man. JR: Irish whip and across the ring McBaine goes.. and hard into the turnbuckle as the champ just keels face forward onto the mat.. I'm not sure how much more he can take of this.. quite honestly. DD: We never know, that's why he is the champ. [Sierra finishes propping the table amidst the wreckage of the first.. giving Jack the true evil eye.. then the finger! Heel Pop! And then.. she decides to start digging under the ring.. again. Jack watches..] [HARDCORE BIG TIME POP!!!] JR: SIERRA'S GOT A CAN OF GASOLINE!!! SHE'S DOUSING THAT TABLE IN GASOLINE!! JESUS CHRIST!! DD: I haven't seen a lit table since.. Brawlin'? JR: I think so! And that had horrible repercussions! DD: Horribly righteous! Jack back to picking up McBaine now as he even seems a tad flustered! [OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!] [HEEL POP!!!!!!!] JR: And McBaine with the great equalizer.. the uppercut to the groin of Jack has him hunched over.. [Thud!] and a big lifting knee to the face drops the big man to the canvas! And just like that the tide is turned! Sierra: TREVOR!!! LIGHTER!! JR: What the?!?! [And with that.. McBaine digs into his pocket.. and slides a lighter across the ring and out to the ring apron with deft accuracy.. yeah, believe it please. Sierra walks over and picks it up.. smiling wickedly as she flicks it on and quickly puts flame to table!] [WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!] [MEGA-HARDCORE POP!!!!!!!!!] DD: FLAMING TABLE!!! FLAMING TABLE!!! JR: MY LORD!! THEY ARE GONNA TRY TO KILL CITY JACK!! TOGETHER EVEN, LIKE ONE DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY!! DD: RULAGE!!!!!! JR: McBaine lifting Jack back to his feet quickly.. as he pushes Jack all the way back towards the ropes where the table is a blazin right below them.. what the hell is McBaine trying to do?! DD: You already know. End this miserable SOB once and for all! [The crowd.. everyone is on their fucking feet, yeah, their fucking feet.. as McBaine Irish whips Jack across the ring.. McBaine holding ground near the ropes he's at..] JR: Irish whip and off the farside goes Jack.. Good lord!! Jack is running headlong towards McBaine and that table outside the ring!! He barrels in and McBaine ducks! BIG BACK BODYDROP OVER THE TOP ROPE!!!!!!!!! DD: YYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!! JR: NOOOOOOOOOO!! [And Jack falls.. AND LANDS ON THE RING APRON!!!] [MEGA-POP!!!!] DD: HOW?!! THAT FAT MAN DON'T HAVE SKILLS!! JR: CITY JACK ON THE APRON.. HE COUNTERED AND NOW McBAINE TURNS AROUND!! AND GETS A HUGE LEFT FOREARM SHOT!!! JACK GRABS AND HOOKS McBAINE UP!!! VERTICAL SUPLEX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [FLASHBULBS!!!.. ..as Jack lifts him up and over the top rope..] [HEEL/DISAPPOINTED POP!!!!!] JR: OH MY!! JACK COULDN'T TAKE THE PRESSURE ON THE RIGHT ARM AND HAD TO DROP McBAINE TO THE RIGHT ON THE APRON!! BOTH MEN ARE ON THE APRON!! A FLAMING TABLE IS BELOW THEM ON THE CONCRETE!! DD: THIS IS INSANE!!! [Both men stare at each other.. and then start to throw exhaustive punches at each other.. both men teetering on the brink of exhaustion.] JR: Left by McBaine!! Left by Jack!! Right by McBaine!! Left by Jack! Back and forth they go as Sierra Hayes screams from the floor below!! DD: Something has got to give Jake, something has got to give! JR: THEY LOCK-UP UP!! BOTH MEN FIGHTING FOR POSITION ON THE APRON.. BOTH MEN TRYING TO STAY ALIVE!! BOTH M- [But before he can finish.. both men teeter too far.. ..and together.. ..they fall.. ..down.. ..down.. ..down.. CCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] ["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"] ["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"] ["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"] ["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"] ["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"] JR: JESUS CHRIST!! WE NEED MEDICAL ATTENTION DOWN HERE IMMEDIATELY!! BOTH MEN!! BOTH MEN FELL OFF THE PAORN!! BOTH MEN WENT THROUGH THE FLAMING TABLE!!! BOTH MEN ARE OUT LIKE A LIGHT AMINDST THE NOW CRUMBLED WRECKAGE!!! THIS IS SICK!! THIS IS HORRIBLE!! AND IT'S ALL THAT EVIL WENCH'S FAULT!! DD: Seriously.. we need help. These two gotta be burnt.. bones may be broken.. and Sierra.. well, wow.. she's smiling. JR: SHE'S SICK!! THE MEDICS ARE RUSHING DOWN HERE!! ELI IS WAVING OFF THE CONTEST!! THIS CAN'T GO ON!! THE FANS ARE LOOKING ON WITH SHOCK.. I'M SICKENED AND EVEN DIRK IS SPEECHLESS! DD: That was too cruel, even for me. JR: What are we to make of this.. by God, we are now out of time.. a cruel, cruel world, fans! A cruel cruel world! Goodnight.. and God save us all! [With that.. we stay on the medics rushing to the aid of the two unconscious warriors amidst the wreckage, smoke, and debris they left behind moments ago. And with one smile on Sierra Hayes' face.. we fade out.] Grand Isle Wrestling 2002