The sound of three gunshots go off, each one blasting out an O.W.F. on the screen and the cameras open panning over the crowd. Tonight the crowd is fired up for the prelude show to High Voltage. Crowd support is out in spades, giant Kellan Hunter foam fingers dotting the arena while signs endorse such favorites as "The Loose Cannon", "I've got Carrington Fever", and very diverse support split between Chris Green and Shaun Stewart. With the crowd drowning out his voice with their screams, Zack Perry takes to the center of the ring, microphone in hand to kick the show off.

Mr P: Our Dirty South Tour is coming to a close, with only High Voltage left to go. We're just ten days removed from the OWF's second Pay Per View event since the return, a moment that Kremlin and his cronies said would never happen.

The audience screams out in excitement and the cameras pan over shots of the arena, the southern fans not exactly being the most intellectual looking bunch, but excited none the less.

Mr P: Can't go wrong with that Southern Hospitality. You people have been great and I aim to repay the favor. High Voltage is going to mark the first entirely Zack Perry promoted Pay Per View event in almost six years. And you all know my style. We're going to stain that canvas red forever.

The audience screams out again.

Mr P: But it's not all about next week; we've got one incredable line-up for you tonight. And one of the OWF's key players is ready to start things off.

PA SYSTEM: YOU MUST BE N.U.T.S.!

"Back In Black" by AC/DC plays and the crowd starts to boo as Kellan Hunter walks out to the entryway. He confidently struts to the ring wearing his halves to the OWF Handicapped Titles and the OWF Tag Team Titles. He As he approaches the ring, the cameras cut to anti-Kellan Hunter signs in the arena. The cameras cut back just as Kellan walks up the ring steps and enters under the top rope.

Kellan walks right up to Mr. P and holds out his hand as if to ask for his microphone. Mr. P looks at him for a second as if he's gone completely insane, then turns away and points at a ring crew guy to toss Kellan a microphone. Kellan catches it and immediately begins to speak.

Kellan Hunter: Hello...Dammit, where the Hell are we again?

The crowd boos loudly.

Kellan Hunter: All these southern hick towns all look the same to me. OH well. THAT's NOT THE POINT! The point is that KELLAN HUNTER is a little pissed off at OWF right now. Don "Dam's He's Fat" Dyce backed out of our match tonight, apparently wetting his XL diapers upon being scheduled against KELLAN HUNTER. So what do I do, being OWF's ONLY double champion? I issue an open challenge. I waited and waited to here someone answer, and now, here I am, and no one has responde...

WAIT JUST A MINUTE!

Kellan Hunter looks out towards the entryway, indignant at the interruption. The cameras pan over and Nick Thunder is seen standing with a microphone.

Nick Thunder: I've got some things I need to clear up about you Kellan.

Kellan Hunter: Dammit, Big Blunder, what the Hell do you want NOW? Do you want to get your ass kicked a THIRD TIME?!?

Nick Thunder: Son, don't make me come down there. Since you brought it up, let's look at the last time we squared off.

The OWF big screen starts to roll footage from last week.

...Kellan grabs Nick's head...BLACKOUT ON THE STEEL CHAIR! Nick is busted open as Kellan rols him on his back for the cover...1...2...3!

Kellan Hunter: YOUR WINNERS...AND STIIIIIILL OWF HANDICAPPED CHAMPIONS...N.U.T.S.!

Kellan walks off camera and comes back, now carrying both Handicapped Titles as well as his half of the OWF Tag Titles. He lays one of the Handicapped belts down beside his partner. Amazingly, Nick seems to actually be conscious. He's not moving, but his eyes are open. Kellan stands over him.

Kellan Hunter: You know, I knew a guy that was a lot like you in QWW in North Texas. He had a big-shot attitude just like you. I hope, for the sake of your health, that you learn the lesson now instead of needing more instruction. The last person who tried to challenge me ended in Intensive Care.

Tad starts to roll around a little, and Kellan helps him up to his feet and helps him walk off camera. The cameras pan back onto Nick.

Nick Thunder: ...Q...W...W? I know...

The cameras cut back to the present.

Nick Thunder: That's right, Kellan. You made your fatal mistake. You named a place I actually knew of.

Kellan Hunter: I'm BORED, Blunder. What the heck is your point?

Nick Thunder: My point is THIS. I called up a friend of mine from QWW, and they said they had NEVER HEARD of KELLAN HUNTER!

Suddenly, Kellan Hunter's eyes get really wide. He quickly starts to speak and his words seem almost panicky.

Kellan Hunter: So the Hell what?!? Maybe your "friend" was there before me. Maybe he just...

Nick Thunder: SAVE IT! If you were such a "legend", he'd know about you. Since that seemed really fishy, I started to look back on your tapes and research every place you mentioned. I got the same answer...NEVER HEARD OF KELLAN HUNTER!!!

Kellan Hunter is obviously mad. He starts pacing, trying to decide mentally whether or not to run out and try to shut Nick Thunder up with his fists.

Nick Thunder: So WHO IS KELLAN HUNTER?!? Is he just a newcomer who LIED to you all? No...I found a tip from one of the places you mentioned. The guy said you looked like someone, so I found MORE archives...archives from ASW...

Kellan Hunter: ASW? Who CARES ABOUT ASW?!?

Nick Thunder: You do...you ARE a former ASW TV Champion!

Confusion seems to abound in the arena as the fans try to unravel this mystery unfolding.

Kellan Hunter: NO I didn't! I only wrestled one tag team match in ASW!

Nick Thunder: WEll, KELLAN HUNTER only fought one match, but you had several. The secret I discovered is that...you ARE Kellan Hunter, but you have ALSO been a lot of other people too.

Kellan Hunter: SHUT UP YOU SENILE OLD FOGEY!

Nick Thunder: OR WHAT?!? YOU'LL MAKE ME SAY "GOOD-NIGHT"?!?

The crowd is in uproar as the truth is revealed. Kellan Hunter starts stomping around the ring, pulling at his hair, and grabbing at the ropes.

Nick Thunder: THAT'S RIGHT, KELLAN! YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN THE ASW SABOTEUR, THE GUY TOO CRAPPY TO KEEP THE SAME GIMMICK...MR. GOOD!

Kellan Hunter snaps and slides out of the ring and sprints towards Thunder. Thunder prepares, but Kellan nails him with a devastating spear that knocks the wind out of Thunder and send them both to the floor. Kellan gets on top of him and starts alternating fists. Nick Thunder is busted open before security can pull Hunter off. Three fair sized men with nightsticks grab Hunter by either arm, with the last choking him behind his throat and dragging him backstage, Hunter screaming the whole way.

Mr P: Good Lord. Mr Good? You've got to be kidding me.

Mancow: Mr Good is an OWF champion. I think that says exactly where our level of talent is at compared to ASW.

Mr P: As I was saying, the OWF has never really had much use for Kellan Hunter, so when Dontam Dyce told me he'd rather not waste his time on a loser like that, I gave him the night off. I'm sure you fans would rather see a real wrestling match anyways.

The fans titter with laughter while Perry tries to save face. Camera feed backstage on the big screen, saving Perry from the million staring eyes as we open to see security draggin Kellan Hunter towards a squad car. The garage area is dimly lit and Hunter still struggles against the three men, their combined efforts barely managing to keep him restrained, when...

SAAAANNGGRAAANIIISSSMOOO!

All eyes turn towards the squad car where Tad O Minor stands on the roof, pointing down at them. Springing from the roof of the squad car, Minor goes for the Minor Threat... and overshoots his mark, clearing all four men to dive headfirst into the cement alone. The officers look down at Minor, a pool of his own chuckberry thick blood gathering around his head, then back at Hunter who's struggling has been reduced to a half-hearted shrug.

Officer 1: He with you?

Mr Good: Um.... no?

Officer 2: Well, he didn't technically hit anyone-

The officers look at each other in a moment of red tape debate over the legalities of Minor's attack when a sudden clang drops one of them to his knees. Bryan Tann stands over him, holding a fire extinguisher in both hands. With another reverberating clang, Tann drills it end first into the downed officer's face, laying him out flat on his back while the other two release Mr Good, turning their night sticks on Tann. Tann blocks the first shot with his fire extinguisher, planting a kick into that man's midsection, then slamming the fire extinguisher down over the back of his head as the officer doubles up in pain. The second man cracks Tann over the upper arm with the night stick and Tann takes a step back, wincing. Slipping his grip on the fire extinguisher to hold it by the hose, Tann swings it around overhead like a flail, bouncing it off the side of the third officer's head and sending him rolling several feet away. Mr Good gets back to his feet brushing himself off, then gives Tann a cocky smirk.

Mr Good: I've already got a tag team partner: Tad O Minor. And if have to be with someone else, I'd probably just stick with my OWF World Tag Team Champion partner, Bad-Breath Price. Listen, I know you just wanted to try and impress the greatest wrestler ever to grace an OWF arena by helping me out, but I had everything under control. I don't need "The Loose-Stool-

Clang sounds the fire extinguisher again as Tann slaps it upside Mr Good's head, staggering him back until he's leaning against the squad car. Dropping the fire extinguisher, Tann lays in with rights and lefts, punctuating each of his words with a big fist to Mr Good's face.

Bryan Tann: I [right] Don't [right] Like [left] Being [right] Trashtalked! [left]

Tann wraps Mr Good up tight, turning around and throwing him back overhead with a TBone TannPlex! Through the windshield. Mr Good lays there, half in the car, legs still spread cockeyed on the hood, while Tann spits on him, then turns around stalking off.

Mancow: It would look like Tann hasn't come any closer to resolving his anger issues.

Larry King: After the way Kellan Hunter... I mean, "Mr Good" has been running his mouth all week, he had to be expecting some retaliation.

Mr P: Forget him. He's got ASW tatooed across his forehead. This is the OWF.

Perry turns his attentions towards the crowd, rapidly growing restless.

Mr P: We've had more blood than a hemophiliac peircing party, but that's just the opener. It's time we turned up the heat!

The audience cheers.

Mr P: Let the Sweat Round begin!

Geraldo: Ladies and gentlemen, the following is an Inferno Match for advancement in Blood, Sweat, and Tears. Introducing first, from Brazil, South America, weighing in at two hundred twenty pounds, STAAAAARKEEER!

The lights go out. Red and yellow lights fill the arena. Starker pokes his head out from behind the curtain and looks around. He has a scared look on his face as he looks and the OWF audience. Starker steps out from behind the curtain and walks down the ramp slowly. As he is walking, pyro's shoot out all around him. Starker jumps at the loud sounds and takes off running to the ring. He slides into the ring and looks around at the OWF audience again. He tries to pump himself up a little to give him some confidence but it doesn't work. He prepares for the match to start, watching nervously up the ramp and waiting for his opponant to be announced.

Geraldo: And his opponant, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at two hundred twenty five pounds, SEEETH PRIIIIICE!

The platform errupts in a shower of blue and red pyrotechnics as Alive by POD begins to play over the pa. Starker steps back to the far side of the ring, nervously eyeing the basework which will soon be lit aflame. The crowd waits anxiously. Nothing happens. Perry begins nervously pacing back and forth at ringside as Alive by POD comes to a close with still no sign of Seth Price, until the big screen flashes up Price's charming smile.

Seth Price: Oh you didn't think you'd get rid of me that easily, did you? Are you OWF fans really that stupid?

The crowd begins to boo as Perry looks up at the screen nervously. The image pulls back on a gymnasium that is clearly not within the arena.

Seth Price: I know I said I wanted to give it another go against Starker, but then I noticed. I'm number two contender for the ASW US Title... your title, Perry. And really, I didn't see any point in wasting my time destroying the rest of you guys in Blood, Sweat, and Tears for that peice of sh*BLEEP* OWF World Title, when I could be competing on the 31st in an ASW ring for an ASW Title. I mean, gotta have priorities, right?

The booes become deafening as Price laughs loudly on the big screen, then gives a little bye-bye wave, the camera feed cutting out. Perry tugs at his hair at ringside while Starker's face brightens up, looking ecstatic as he leans over the ropes and tries to exchange words with Perry. Perry shakes his head No, while Starker seems insistant.

Mr P: I swear to God, this is the last time I let those All Stars guys embarass me like this.

Starker: But I advance though, right? I win by default?

Mr P: Starker, shut up!

GOOD-NIGHT!

"Feel Good Inc." by the Gorillaz plays and Kellan Hunter...well, Mr. Good, comes out, wearing both of his titles. A four by four bandage dotted with red blood is taped over the left side of his forehead, but he seems confident as he holds a microphone up in front of him.

Mr. Good: OWF, I TOLD you that I was going to give you the chance to watch me wrestle. Big Blunder tried to ruin that, Cryin' Mann tried to ruin that, but I won't let that happen. See, my allegiance is with Tad O. Minor and N.U.T.S., but, thanks to that match at Proven Innocent, I am ALSO Seth Price's TAG TEAM PARTNER. Since he can't be here tonight for some reason, I felt that I should do the partner-y thing and take his place.

Mr P: Wait. Wait. Wait. Back the truck up. There is no way I'm going to promote Mr Good for a match of this calibre.

Mr. Good: Then what are you going to do? NO CONTEST?!? How about a DRAW?!? Better yet, a WIN BY COUNTOUT?!?

The crowd boos at the subtle reference to ASW's inability to find clear winners for any match. Mr. P looks pissed, but keeps his calm. He looks into the ring at Starker, who shakes his head No, then up the aisle at Mr Good, who rolls his shoulders, trying to work out the kinks from Tann's earlier beat. Perry grins.

Mr P: You know, Mr Good, you don't look in so "Good" of shape after what Bryan Tann did to you. In fact, I'd say your chances of winning a match aren't really that "Good" tonight. So, if you want to come and suffer another All Stars style beating, fine. "Good" luck.

Mr Good drops his title belts on the stage, sprinting down the aisle and sliding under the bottom rope as the fires flare up surrounding the ring behind him. Starker comes in hard, taking Good off his feet with a big boot to the face. Stomping down at his head, Starker comes up empty while Good rolls to the side, pulling himself up quick in the corner, then rocking Starker with a back elbow as Starker races in with a shoulder block. Starker staggers backwards, standing center ring, while Good explodes out of the corner with a clothesline, taking Starker off his feet and flipping him in mid-air to land him on his stomach. Good grabs Starker by the hair, jerking him to his feet and whipping him hard to the ropes. Heading to the far side, Good ducks down low for a back body drop beside the ropes, hoping to send Starker to the outside. Starker comes back at him, jumping into the air at the last moment and catching Good by the hair and bring him down hard into the canvas with a facebuster. Jerking Good upright, Starker takes him over his shoulders, rotating quickly in an airplane spin to disorientate Good, then planting him hard with a death valley driver. Jerking Good up once again, Starker whips him hard to the corner, following in with a coal train, but Good gets a boot up to catch Starker in the face and send him back to the center of the ring. Sitting up onto the top turnbuckle, Good leaps into the ring, catching the dazed Starker with a massive missle drop kick from the 280 pounder. Starker rolls back into the far corner, clutching his chest and trying to recover his breath while Good takes quite a bit of time just to get back to his feet, not having faired too well on his high flying attempt.

Mancow: This is a pretty impressive display for K- for Mr Good. You can see the ring savvy showing off.

Larry King: Starker has been coming on strong. He's definately taking this one seriously.

Good raises back up to his towering height, lumbering over towards Starker as he pulls himself to his feet in the corner. Good connects with a big right hand to the chest, knocking Starker back against the turnbuckles, then Starker ducks a left, slipping out and behind Good under his arm. Shoving him forward into the turnbuckles, Starker takes Good by the hair, smacking his head down over the steel turnbuckle bolt, then pulls him out of the corner and takes him down to the mat with a bulldog. Rolling Good side over side, Starker pushes him towards the ropes. Good plants a low blow between Starker's legs, stopping the Brazillian, then raises back up, hoisting Starker in his arms and planting him down with a gutbuster. Good slings Starker up over one shoulder, carrying him to the ropes and dumping him to the outside, but Starker grabs the top rope, hugging himself close to the apron as he hits the floor and avoiding the knee height wall of flame. Mr Good begins climbing towards the outside as well and Starker grabs Good by the hair, pulling his throat down over the middle rope and choking him, then dragging Good out of the ring by his ankle after he topples backwards. Good and Starker tie up in the narrow path between the apron and the fire, muscling back and forth, with Good overpowering Starker and tossing him towards the flame with an arm drag. Starker twists through the air, narrowly passing overtop the flames and landing beside the security rail, scrambling backwards and into the first row of the crowd as the fire crackles dangerously close to him. Mr Good eyes the fire, trying to find a way around it, then turns towards the ring, digging under the apron and pulling out the spare commentary table to prop it over the flame as a bridge leading to the security rail. Starker grabs a beer from a fan in the front row, chugging down as much as he can until his cheeks are bulging, then spits out, spraying alcohol through the flames so that a burst a fire clouds around Good. Good blocks the bulk of it with the table, fire rapidly spreading over the underside of the tabletop now as well, then sets the bridge back in place and steps atop the table and towards the crowd. Starker jumps the security rail, taking to the top of the table himself and locking up with Mr Good atop the rapidly burning table over the wall of fire. The two lock up, muscling back and forth.

Mancow: It's all or nothing here.

With a headbutt forward across the bridge of Good's nose, Starker busts the bigger man's face open. Good claps a hand over his face, blood spilling through between his fingers, and Starker plants a boot to his midsection. Hooking Good up, Starker hefts him overhead into a vertical suplex position. The table bows between their combined weights. Rage! Starker drops Good into piledriver position, drilling his head through the table and driving the big man into the fires below. Starker rolls backwards over the security railing and back into the crowd, trying to keep as much distance between himself and the fire as possible. Good stands back up, smoldering and red, wisps of smoke off his clothes, and fans practically fight around Starker in an effort to hand him their drinks. With a grin, Starker splashes a glass of beer over Good and watches as he bursts aflame.

Geraldo: Your winner, and first Blood, Sweat, and Tears finalist, STAAAAARKEEER!

Larry King: That was amazing. Another brutal showing from the OWF's newcomer.

Mancow: Give me a break. Silkk or Tann would have won it in half that time.

Larry King seems to ignore Mancow as he carries his two folding chairs up into the ring, EMTs and firefighters attending to Mr Good at ringside. Clearing his throat over the microphone, spotlights rest on Larry King: In The Ring.

Larry King: This week, I have a special preview show for High Voltage, a chance to speak with none other than the main event, the OWF World Heavyweight Champion: Jesse Williams.

Memphis Will Be Laid To Waste by Norma Jean kicks in over the PA and the crowd begins a chorus of booes as Jesse Williams steps through the curtains, the World Title belt tossed casually over one shoulder. Strutting his way down to the ring, he takes a seat opposite Larry King, ignoring the crowd, and shoots a finger-gun Larry's direction.

Larry King: Jesse, it's great to have you on the show. I guess first things first, the question everyone's dieing to know, what did Kremlin say after he saw you destroy SiLeNcE and his World Title belt?

Jesse Williams: Lawsuits galore! Oh man, The millions they sued for were just truely hilarious. I mean, I got the paperwork and there were more zeros at the end of that settlement they wanted, than there are in ASW all together. I had the janitors scrape the melted leather and steel, thats right, not gold thats how cheap the belt is, off the bottom of the dumpster and sent it back. I did them a favor, I destroyed the belt before Dominator and Jake Blood had a chance to do- just by winning it!

Larry King, and alot of the crowd, laughs.

Larry King: Yes, ASW certainly seems to be struggling now that they're faced with some competition. We've got head to head pay per view events booked for the same night. Tell me, what do you have planned that's going to outdo Zack Perry versus SiLeNcE?

Jesse Williams: Let's give credit where credit is due- Perry is a great competitor. But honestly, Zack Perry versus SiLeNcE or Jesse Williams versus anybody- what would you watch King?

Larry King: Point well taken, Jesse. But for Jesse Williams versus anybody... you won't be facing just anybody, but either Shaun Stewart or Chris Green, two top competitors both looking to make their mark big returning to the ring. Who would you rather see at High Voltage?

Jesse Williams: I'd personally rather face Stewart- that bastard wanted to interrupt my celebration at the pay per view, and where has he been? No where. I know i'm going to face Green, and it will be an epic. I have no problem facing either, because I will win either way.

Larry King: Alot of people backstage have been floating similar comments, saying Green or Stewart having worked their way up to this point the way they should. For example, Silkk. What about him, Tann, and Starker waiting in the wings with Blood, Sweat, and Tears? Now these are men you can't be taking lightly.

Jesse Williams: Silkk, Tann and Starker deserve to be where they are- but, I'll take them all lightly until it comes time to face them. I've beaten Tann once already around, Silkk has never come close to me and Starker is an opponent I look forward to facing. Once I have to face them, then i'll start considering to worry about them- but even then I have no fear's of my opponents.

Larry King: Last question, champ, and then I'll let you get backstage for your little pre-High Voltage celebration. Diamond Kid. The buzz is everywhere. He's been seen lurking in the shadows and standing in the background. What do you, Jesse Williams the OWF World Champion have to say to it's former owner?

Jesse Williams: There's only one thing that I can say, and I think all the fans know exactly what i'm thinking...Hey DK...

Williams looks to the crowd, who in unison with Jesse, say...

Williams & Crowd: EAT SHIT!

Williams: Thanks Larry.

Larry King: Thank you, Jesse, and good luck going into High Voltage.

Williams stands up, holding his World Title belt up high over his head and dangling it in front of the crowd as they boo him. Making his way backstage, Larry King removes the chairs from within the ring while Geraldo steps up at ringside.

Geraldo: The following match is an Iron Man Match set with a thirty minute time limit. Introducing first, from Pittsburg, PA, weighing in at two hundred thirty pounds, "The Loose Cannon" BRYYYAAAN TAAAAANN!

The crowd continues to buzz as the anticipation is mounting. Finally, we hear over the PA a voice of a child. A voice that in it's innocense still has a dark, menacing sound to it, as though a dark prophecy is soon to come to pass.

Cry little sister. Come to your brother.

The arena suddenly is FLOODED in red light as pyro explodes at the entrance way as well as the four corners of the ring post! The crowd erupts LOUDLY as "Swamped" by Lacuna Coil hits over the PA. Standing seemingly in the middle of the explosive pyro at the entrance way stands a lone figure who looks as though he's standing in the fires of Hell, preparing to do battle. Stepping out from the fire stands the one, the only, the man, the myth, the legendary, "The Loose Cannon" Bryan Tann! His walk down to ring side shows that of a man with a purpose. He rolls into the ring under the bottom rope, standing dead center in the ring. He then let's out a LOUD feral roar as he throws his arms in the air as the pyro explodes from the four corners of the ring! The lights go from red to normal as the music fades out and the fires die down. Tann stands in the ring, cheers ring out LOUDLY as Bryan Tann is one of the most beloved superstars on the OWF roster. He reaches for the mic that's in his pocket and goes to speak only to be drowned out as chants of "Tann!" come from the crowd. Tann has a grin on his face as he slides his sunglasses down from his face and tosses them to the timekeeper.

Geraldo: And his opponant, from Norman, Oklahoma, weighing in at two hundred fifty six pounds, SIIIIILKK!

Playa You Don't Know by Slim Thug starts out over the PA and Silkk bursts through the curtains, pointing out over the crowd on either side as the audience errupts. Strutting his way towards the ring, Silkk flashes a cocky look at Tann, sliding under the bottom ropes on the far side and into the ring. Stepping up onto the middle ropes, Silkk leans out over the turnbuckle facing the crowd, arms thrown out at his sides as the chants begin of "Carr-Ring-Ton! Carr-Ring-Ton!" Silkk drops back to the mat, leaning against the turnbuckle and looking smug as Tann glowers at him from across the ring.

The bell sounds and both men step forward tenatively, feeling each other out. Silkk slowly reaches out with one hand to tie up with a wrist lock and Tann bats his hand away, keeping a few steps back, his fists up in front of himself in a more boxing style stance. Tann snaps in quick with a right jab. Silkk blocks it with his forearm, spinning in along side and slamming his arm against the side of Tann's head with a lariett, then hooking him down into a side headlock. Cinching down, Silkk wrenches at Tann's neck, while leaning to the side and to force Tann down towards the mat, costing him his leverage. Tann wraps his arms around Silkk's midsection hugging him up tightly, then wrenches backwards, muscling rippling as Silkk crashes into the canvas with a side belly-to-back TannPlex. Tann hooks a leg for a cover, but Silkk kicks him off before even the one count, rolling to the side and getting back to his feet. The two men begin circling again, keeping their distance and taking things slow.

Larry King: This is some smart wrestling from the two savvy ring veterans. In a match this long, pacing can be key.

Mancow: Bore-Ring. I was expecting these two to be killing each other. Instead, it's some sort of ballet.

Silkk shoots in forward with a single leg grab, pulling Tann off balance, then whipping him to the side with a dragon screw. Tann rolls back to his feet, but Silkk is on top of him, gripping him up with a front chancery, then closing off Tann's neck as Silkk lifts Tann completely from the ground before converting it into a ddt that drives Tann to the mat. Silkk sits Tann up, jerking back on his arms with his knee pressed forward into a bow and arrow stretch. Tann folds his legs under himself, leaning forward as Silkk pushes up on his arms, and sitting through the hold to come down flat on his belly. With both of his powerful legs, Tann kicks backwards, rolling Silkk back across the ring with a double foot horse kick. Tann raises again this time, with Silkk soon after. Tann comes in hard and fast with a clothesline. Silkk ducks, turning it to a drop toe hold and taking Tann down to the mat, then twisting him backwards into an STF. Tann presses himself up with one arm, pulling himself forward and grips the ropes solidly with one hand. The referee steps in, calling for the break, but Silkk refuses, milking the hold out to do as much damage as possable. With the referee grabbing him and physically pulling him off, Silkk finally lets up, stepping back quickly to put distance between himself and Tann as the The Loose Cannon gets back to his feet. Tann spits on the mat, wiping off his face and glaring across the ring at Silkk. Silkk and Tann lock arms into a collar-arm tie-up. Silkk forces Tann's arms up, using his height to his advantage. Tann buries a knee into Silkk's midsection, breaking the grapple, then hooking Silkk from behind and throwing him up with a tilt-a-whirl slam that shakes the ring. Tann's back to his feet, jerking Silkk up and throwing him hard to the turnbuckle before crashing into him with a running shoulder tackle which batters Silkk against the turnbuckles again. Tann sits Silkk backwards on the top turnbuckle, stepping up to the middle ropes and grabbing Silkk around the waist. Silkk drives a sharp back elbow into Tann's face, then a second one, breaking Tann's grip and sending him stumbling back to the mat. Up to his feet on the turnbuckle, Silkk turns around, dropping from off the top with a double axe-handle over Tann's skull, driving the big man to the mat. Silkk hooks a leg, rolling him back. 1... 2... Tann powers out.

Mancow: Silkk is taking this match to the next level.

Larry King: And Bryan Tann is matching him blow for blow.

Silkk drags Tann back up by his singlet, forcing him into the corner, then raising welts over Tann's chest with series of three rapid backhand chops. Tann slams a palm strike into Silkk's jaw, forcing him back, then bursts forward with a spear, taking Silkk down to the mat and straddling him, raining down huge clubbing fists over Silkk's head and shoulders. Silkk rolls backwards, monkey flipping Tann off of him, and bounces back to his feet, throwing a kick at Tann's side as Tann stands. Tann catches the shot, holding the leg in close and reaching forward for the TBone TannPlex. Silkk twists through the air with his other leg, waffling Tann's head with an enziguri which drops Tann to his knees. Hooking Tann's head, Silkk jerks him up to drag him backwards with a ddt that brings Tann down hard. Pulling Tann up once again, Silkk turns him around, jerking backwards on Tann's head and getting him into position for Crank It. Tann drops into a sitting position, grabbing Silkk on the way down and smashing his face over Tann's shoulder. Silkk snaps upright, dazed from the blow, and Tann whirls around, scooping him up and throwing him down hard with a powerslam. Tann yanks Silkk back up from the canvas, spinning him around and sending him towards the turnbuckle with an irish whip. Silkk spins through, reversing it and Tann races to the corner, getting a foot up against the middle turnbuckle before he crashes into the corner. Silkk comes in hard after him, springing into the air and planting a high knee to the back of Tann's head which batters him into the corner, then grabbing Tann by the head and spinning around to bring him back to the center of the ring with a tornado ddt. But Tann grabs the top rope with one hand, jerking free from Silkk's grasp as Silkk leaps from the corner, Silkk coming down alone but landing on his feet. Hugging Silkk up from behind around the waist, Tann throws him overhead with a bridge German TannPlex. 1... 2... 3...

Geraldo: By pinfall, the score is now Bryan Tann: One, Silkk: Zero at the eight minute mark.

Larry King: And Tann takes the lead.

Mancow: Twenty-two minutes to go, Larry. Doesn't mean anything.

Silkk kicks himself out just a hair after the three, coming back to his feet with his eyes suddenly fired up. Silkk plants an uppercut under Tann's jaw as Tann stands, dazing him enough to throw him down with a snapmare. Driving both feet into Tann's head while he's downed with a low index drop kick, Silkk, batters away at him, Tann rolling over and scrambling towards the corner, trying to get out from under Silkk's sudden assault. Tann raises up wrenches him over into an arm bar, then closes in tight turning it to an abdominal stretch. Grabbing the top rope for added pressure, Silkk tears at Tann's side with the abdominal stretch, Tann free hand swinging from the awkward angle, landing punches as best he can. Silkk slips his grip, grabbing Tann low and hoisting him up to drop him hard over Silkk's knee with a gutbuster. Pulling Tann upright again, Silkk hoists Tann up for a vertical suplex, holding him upright for a few moments, then brings him straight down head first into a brainbuster. Tann rolls over onto his knees, one hand clamped over the back of his neck in pain, as Silkk gets back to his feet and brushes the sweat off his brow. Grabbing Tann from behind for Crank It once again, Silkk pulls Tann upright from behind. Tann reaches back, grabbing Silkk around the waist first and pulls him up beside him to spin around and plant him with a sidewalk slam. Slowing the pace, Tann pulls Silkk up, pushing him back against the ropes and driving four successive right hands to Silkk's face. The fifth shot Silkk catches Tann by the wrist, spinning around and bringing Tann's arm down over his shoulder with an armbreaker, then arm dragging Tann to the center of the ring. Silkk is waiting as Tann gets back to his feet, tagging him on the side of the head with a drop kick which stumbles Tann back towards the corner. Silkk ties up Tann, wrenching an arm behind him to put Tann into a hammerlock. Tann plants a back elbow into Silkk's jaw, driving Silkk into the corner, then comes in at Silkk with a lariett. Silkk gets the big boot up in the way, driving a foot into Tann's jaw which knocks him to the mat, then grabs Tann by the ankles and tips backwards with a catapult, slamming Tann into the turnbuckle. Silkk sits Tann onto the top turnbuckle, stepping to the middle rope and grabbing him for a high index ddt. Tann pauses Silkk's onslaught, battering him with a right hand. Then another. Then a third which knocks Silkk from his perch and sends him rolling to the center of the ring. Tann drops down to the mat, exploding out of a three point stance for a midpoint spear. Silkk leapfrogs Tann, hooking him by an arm as he passes and jerking abruptly behind him onto Tann's back. Clenching down in a split second, Silkk has Tann dropped to the mat in the TannMisson. Tann holds still for a moment, grounded squarely in the center of the ring, then taps lightly on the mat.

Geraldo: By submission, the score is now Bryan Tann: One, Silkk: One at the fourteen minute mark.

Mancow: That evened things up. What a bitch.

Larry King: Well played by Tann. No point getting himself hurt before the halfway point of the match. He was able to get himself out before Silkk could do any real damage.

The referee forces the break and Silkk gets back to his feet, running a hand back over his head in relief while Tann explodes from off the mat in rage, folding Silkk in half with a running clothesline. Jerking Silkk upright, Tann whips him hard by the arm, then yanks him back to take him down a second time with a short arm clothesline. This time Tann picks Silkk up, lifting him overhead with a gorilla press slam, then bouncing Silkk unceremoniously off the mat. Kicking Silkk over into the corner, Tann stomps in after him. Silkk sweeps Tann's legs out from under him, bringing him down, then diving over top of Tann for a pinfall, putting both legs up on the middle rope for added leverage. The referee sees the sly manuver, refusing to make the count, and Tann throws Silkk off of him, both men raising back to their feet. Clamping both hands around Silkk's throat, Tann lifts Silkk overhead with a hanging stranglehold. Silkk curls his legs up, scissoring them around Tann's neck and squeezes with a legscissors. Tann steps forward to the corner, slamming Silkk down with his back over the top turnbuckle, then lifting him back up and doing it again, forcing the battered Silkk to break his hold. Silkk throws himself backwards, somersaulting over the top turnbuckle and to the outside of the ring, and grabs Tann by the head as he falls, bringing Tann throat first over the top rope with an abrupt choke that slingshots Tann back to the canvas. Silkk slides back into the ring, pulling Tann up and hooking him up, dropping Tann backwards with a piledriver. Hooking a leg up, Silkk goes for another cover. 1... 2... Tann muscles out, tossing Silkk off of him once again and both men get back to their feet. Silkk lashes out with a right hand and Tann catches him by the wrist, sending Silkk to the ropes with an irish whip, then stopping him cold with a kick to the midsection on the return. Hooking Silkk up, Tann throws him up overhead with a powerbomb. Silkk rolls through it, catching Tann by the head as he comes down behind him and taking Tann to the mat with a neckbreaker. Silkk pulls Tann back up, sending him hard to the corner. Tann steps aside as Silkk follows in with a big body splash, smacking a hand down over Silkk's back to shove him into the turnbuckles alone with extra force. Setting Silkk on the top turnbuckle, Tann steps up to the middle ropes, grabbing Silkk up tight and throwing him halfway across the ring with a release German TannPlex. Dragging himself to Silkk, Tann throws an arm over him making an exhausted cover. 1... 2... Silkk pulls his shoulder up. Tann jerks Silkk up shortly, throwing him into the ropes, then crouching down low for a back body drop on the return, standing upright and throwing Silkk into the air. Silkk comes down on his feet behind Tann, snatching Tann by the head and pulling backwards. Crank It! Silkk almost collapses over Tann as the referee slides into position. 1... 2... 3...

Geraldo: By pinfall, the score is now Bryan Tann: One, Silkk: Two at the twenty-two minute mark.

Mancow: Silkk just took the lead!

Larry King: And Bryan Tann...

Larry King's voice trails off as Tann's actions speak for themselves, Bryan Tann slamming Silkk back into the corner with a huge forearm shot, then stepping in close and battering Silkk with hard fists to the ribs in rapid succession. Silkk lands a chop to Tann's throat, but Tann brushes it off, drilling a headbutt into Silkk's face which breaks Silkk open across the bridge of his nose and splatters blood over both competitors. With a kick to the midsection that lifts Silkk off his feet, Tann hooks him around the head in mid-air, then plants Silkk into the mat with a ddt, blood smearing over the canvas as Silkk's face touches. Tann jerks Silkk back up, throwing him over his shoulders in a fireman's carry, then tossing him up into the air and dropping Silkk down over his knee with a backbreaker. Pulling Silkk up again, this time lifting him into vertical suplex position, Tann throws Silkk forward, dropping him with his midsection over the top rope. Silkk balances doubled over the top rope for a moment, then Tann plants a big boot to his face, knocking him out of the ring and to the floor. Sliding out of the ring, Tann grabs Silkk by the wrist, whipping him into the steel steps and knocking them apart. Picking up the top half of the steps overhead, Tann slams them down at Silkk's face, Silkk rolling himself to the side to avoid the shot at the last moment and Tann's blow sounding loudly steel against steel as he hits the lower half of the steps. Silkk rolls back to his feet, throwing the timekeeper's table over on it's side and grabbing the chair from away of Geraldo. Silkk takes a swing of the chair, cracking it down over Tann's head, splitting him open over the top of his scalp and denting the seat of the chair in, but Tann keeps his footing, pressing in and cornering Silkk back against the security rail. A second shot of the chair from Silkk comes for Tann's head, but this time Tann plants a stiff right hand punch into the seat, knocking the chair back into Silkk's face before picking up the timekeeper's bell and ringing is sounding by bouncing it off the side of Silkk's head. Tann tries to whip Silkk out of the corner and into the ringpost, but Silkk rolls through it, turning it into an arm drag which staggers Tann into the steel post. Silkk grabs Tann by the head, slapping him back against the post for a second time, then grounds him with a rear chinlock on the outside, looking to wear down the clock. Tann muscles himself up, standing back to his feet, Silkk still hanging on his back with his arms wrapped around Tann's neck, and Tann staggers forward away from the ring and towards the security rail. Taking a big step up onto Larry King's chair, Tann twists and topples backwards, falling back first into the commentary table and driving Silkk through it beneath him. With a few deep gasps for breath, Tann pulls Silkk's battered body up once more, rolling him into the ring and following in soon after. Silkk raises back to his feet and he and Tann tie up, muscling back and forth. Silkk jerks Tann to the side, grounding him with a crossface. Tann snaps his head backwards into Silkk's face, then rolls over straddling Silkk and plants two big right hands to Silkk's jaw. Tann jerks Silkk up once more, planting a kick to the midsection and doubling Silkk over. Silkk snatches Tann by the shoulders, dropping to his knees and rocking Tann backwards with a jawbreaker. Silkk whips Tann to the corner, Tann catching the top turnbuckle in one hand to put the breaks on, then lashing out with a back elbow to stop Silkk as he follows up. Tearing off the turnbuckle pad with his left hand, Tann grabs Silkk with his right and slams his face down over the exposed steel bolt. Silkk staggers backward, blood spraying off his face as he stands upright, and Tann plants a kick to his midsection. The Aftermath! 1... 2... 3...

Geraldo: By pinfall, the score is Bryan Tann: Two. Silkk: Two at the twenty nine minute mark.

Tann covers Silkk again, trying to milk a second pinfall, but Silkk kicks out after the one count. Tann tries to pull Silkk back to his feet, but Silkk jerks Tann to the mat instead in a small package. 1... 2... Tann kicks out. Both men spring back to their feet, Tann throwing a big boot at Silkk's face, Silkk ducking then hooking Tann from the side and throwing him back with a capture suplex. 1... 2... Tann kicks out, rolling over on top of Silkk grabbing him by the head, beating the back of his head against the mat. Silkk hooks a hand behind Tann's head, pulling him down into a rollover, but Tann presses Silkk off of him, throwing him aside before the referee can even make a one count.

Larry King: That's it. The thirty minute time limit. Two to two.

Mr P: Shush. Sudden Death. We're going to have a winner to this thing.

Both men get back to their feet, Tann grabbing up Silkk and lifting him overhead with a vertical suplex. Silkk topples backwards through it into a neckbreaker on Tann, then pulls Tann back up to bring him to the center of the ring with a bulldog. Silkk tries to drag Tann back up, but Tann throws Silkk down with a fireman's carry takedown from his knees, then stands back to his full height delivering a huge stomp down across the bridge of Silkk's nose. Pulling Silkk back to his feet, Tann grabs Silkk from behind, throwing him backwards with a release German TannPlex. Silkk somersaults through the air, landing on his feet behind Tann, and jerks back on Tann's head for Crank It. Tann wraps his arms around Silkk's midsection, pulling forward and gruelingly lifting Silkk up over one shoulder from behind, Silkk's arm still locked firmly around Tann's head as he tries to rock himself backwards into position for Crank It. Tann's muscles knot and clench while he fights against it. Then with a snap backwards, Tann plants Silkk with a reversed northern lights TannPlex. 1... 2... 3...

Geraldo: Your winner with a score of three to two at the thirty six minute mark, and Blood, Sweat, and Tears finalist, BRYYYAAAN TAAAAANN!

Tann collapses on his back in exhaustion as the referee tries to raise his hand, the audience screaming the whole while.

Larry King: What an incredable display from these two warriors, going the distance and then some.

Mancow: That was the type of grueling match I expect out of guys like Silkk and Tann. Showing the world exactly why they're still at the top and putting the doubts to rest.

Perry picks up a microphone at ringside, calling for silence over the screams of the crowd.

Mr P: I suppose you'll be wanting to know what exactly can top a match like that.

The audience is deafening.

Mr P: May I present to you... The Tears Round. "I Quit" rules in the MVW House of Pain.

On the big screen overhead footage flashes of a structure. A steel box, the walls done with chain link fencing, a turnbuckle in each of the bottom corners, but barbwire tieing them together instead of bungee. Two men inside, vaguely recognizeable through the blood covering them as Jackal and Wayne Jeffries are seen center structure, Jeffries busting a filament track lightbulb down over Jackal's back. What seems so oddly ominous about the structure is it's placement. There is no mat beneath the cage, just a chain link floor as the entire structure is hung nearly twenty feet over the floor, with nearly a dozen flaming trash cans below.

Mr P: At High Voltage, Bryan Tann and Starker are going to be lifted up high over the ring, bringing with them anything and everything they could possably want, and alone these two men will do whatever unspeakable acts it takes to make the unthinkable happen. They continue until one man gives up.

The audience screams and cheers.

Mr P: When I say "gives up" I don't mean a simple little tap on the floor. No. No. No. I mean a microphone in the cage. Two men fighting until one can't take it anymore. Until he's had enough and he calls the match himself. There is no pinfalls, no submissions, not even a referee. Both men will know who the winner is, because it's not over until one man admits defeat.

The screaming and cheers begin to give way to silent awe and gasps.

Mr P: These two men taken men's blood. They've broken their bodies. But at High Voltage, it doesn't end until somebody breaks their very heart and soul. This is what it means to win Blood, Sweat, and Tears! This is what it means... to be the BeST!

The overwhelming round of cheers errupt once more as audience goes crazy. Perry takes his seat at the spare commentary table alongside Mancow and Larry King, looking smugly sure of himself.

Mancow: They're... going to kill each other. You know that?

Larry King: You're putting these two men straight into hell.

Mr P: When Jesse Williams looks at what I've found, at the winner of Blood, Sweat, and Tears, he won't have that same smirk on his face. I set out to find the best. And by God, whatever walks out of High Voltage to challenge for the World Title is going to have men crying in fear. I don't just want a challenger. I want a monster.

Geraldo: The following is a cage match, the winner going on to face Jesse Williams for the World Title at the main event of High Voltage. Introducing first, SHAAAUUUN STEEEEEWAAART!

Music starts to play and Stewart steps through the curtains, throwing his hands over his head. The crowd cheers and Stewart makes his way down to the ring, seemingly distracted by an attractive girl at ringside.

Geraldo: And his opponant, CHRIIIIS GREEEEEEEEN!

'Thrown away by Vast hits the speakers and the fans start booing loudly as Green enters the top of the ramp with a cocky grin on his face... he slowly walks down as Stewart is prepared in the ring... He has a t shirt on that says ASW SUCKS on the back and OWF SUCKS on the front... he rolls into the ring and starts to pose for the crowd as like Hulk Hogan style rips the shirt off and chucks it into the crowd...

PA System - K-K-KILL THE LIGHTS!

Both men stop and look to the entrance ramp, where we see the OWF World Champion, Jesse Williams walk out from the back.

Larry King: Looks like we're going to have some company!

The fans jeer Williams as he walks down the ramp, looking everywhere except the ring. Stewart and Green keep their eyes locked on Williams as he takes his time, jawing with the fans. Out of nowhere in the ring, Green jumps Stewart from behind and the match is underway as Williams's music cuts out. Williams makes his way to the announcers table, where he puts on a headset.

Jesse Williams: What a welcome!

Larry King: Welcome champ!

The bell sounds and Stewart and Green lock up, wrenching back and forth in the collar arm tie-up. Green whips Stewart to the ropes, catching him on the rebound and twirling him around with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker. Stewart scissors his legs around Green's head in mid-air, turning it into a whirly-bird headscissors takedown while tosses Green across the ring, Stewart following up, grabbing a hand full of Green's hair and pulling him back upright. Green elbows backwards into Stewart's stomach, stopping him momentarily, then turns around and grabs Stewart low, lifting him up and tipping backwards with a flap jack. Stewart rolls away, coming back to his feet and putting some distance between himself and Green, until Green bounds up onto the middle rope, then springs to the center ring, cracking a knee against the side of Stewarts head with a shining wizard. Green grabs Stewart by the shirt, starting to pull him back up, only to have Stewart snatch his wrist away, arm dragging Green down to the canvas instead. Standing over Green, Stewart applies a standing cross-armbreaker, wrenching up and back on Green's shoulder. Green grabs ahold of Stewart's ankle, pulling his foot out from under him and dropping him unceremoniously on his ass, then Green springs back to his feet, jerking Stewart upright and toppling backwards with him for a reverse ddt.

Jesse Williams: My buddy, Chris Green, clearly dominating that big-mouthed nobody.

Mancow: Shaun Stewart has revolutionized this industry.

Larry King: And then he lost to Jesse. Jesse Douglas. His five minutes of fame are up.

Green heads for the corner, beginning to scale the cage wall, but looking back over his shoulder to spy Stewart already recovering to his feet, Green drops instead to a perch atop the turnbuckle. Stewart zig-zags back and forth, closing into the corner, and moving so irratically that Green can't aim a leap from the top to hit him. With a play towards Green, Stewart leaps backwards instead, avoiding a kick from Green aimed at his face, and Stewart instead slams into the ropes, jarring them and shaking Green perch. Green leaps before Stewart gets the chance to knock him off, snatching one hand against the cage wall to jerk him to the side so Green spins in nailing both his knees into the side of Stewart's head, and driving Stewart hard into the cage wall. Stewart drops to one knee, holding to the top rope in an effort to pull himself back to his feet, and Green is quick to bury a kick to Stewart's midsection, then swing around a second to the back of his head with an enziguri. Stewart drops to the canvas on his hands and knees and Green springboards off of Stewart's back to land on the top turnbuckle and rapidly begins scaling the cage wall.

Jesse Williams: And here it is, all over, your winner Chris Green.

Larry King: You sure called that one, champ.

Mancow: Whatever.

Stewart springs back up, leaping into the corner and grabbing Green by the ankle, pulling at him trying to tear Green from the cage wall while Green clings to it, his fingertips just reaching over the edge of the top. Green fights against Stewart for a moment, then shoves himself off from the wall, coming down above Stewart and catching Stewart's head between his legs, flipping Stewart backward to break his fall with a huricanrana. Both men lay downed for a moment, breathing hard, then begin to crawl towards the ropes on opposite sides of the corner. Green pulls himself upright first, turning around and catching a glimpse of Stewart as he follows. Green bounds forward with a hopstep, leaping into the air with a drop kick. Stewart ducks Green, snapping upright with a makeshift back body drop from underneath Green which flips Green in mid-air and smacks him off the cage wall. Stewart takes to the cage wall, climbing up slowly, while Green shakes the cobwebs free on the apron. Spotting Stewart nearing the top of the cage wall, Green springs up, climbing after him in fast pursuit. Stewart reaches the top, slinging one leg over the cage wall. Green catches Stewart by the ankle, jerking him downwarts and crotching him over the top of the cage. Stewart sits perched atop the cage, clutching himself in pain while Green scales to the top of the cage wall as well. Hooking Stewart up, Green jerks him back to his feet, both men wobbling momentarily as they struggle to keep their balance. Then Green throws himself backwards into the ring, dropping Stewart the fifteen feet to bust his head open on the mat with a huge falling ddt. Blood pools around Stewarts face as Green stands up, throwing his hands over his head victoriously. Scaling the wall once again, this time Green's progress goes unfettered, Stewart still laying prone as Green slings himself over the top and climbs down the outside, dropping to the ground in front of the commentary table.

Geraldo: Your winner, and High Voltage main event, CHRIIIS GREEEEEEEEN!

Green looks over the commentary table at Williams and grins. Williams stands up, leaning forward pointing a finger into Green's chest, the two beginning to exchange some heated words as the credits roll in the bottom corner.