** ** ** ** ** ______ __ | __ \|__|.--.--..-----..----. | <| || | || -__|| _| |___|__||__| \___/ |_____||__| ______ __ __ | ||__|| |_ .--.--. | ---|| || _|| | | |______||__||____||___ | |_____| ________ __ __ __ | | | |.----..-----..-----.| |_ | ||__|.-----..-----. | | | || _|| -__||__ --|| _|| || || || _ | |________||__| |_____||_____||____||__||__||__|__||___ | |_____| [The screen returns to black, as stirring, dramatic music plays in the background, much like you'd find with any inspirational Hollywood war-drama blockbuster - ie Braveheart, The Patriot, Gladiator etc. Then onto the black screen is displayed the following words....] "Courage is being scared to death - but saddling up anyway" - John Wayne [After a few seconds they begin to fade away back to the black screen, when suddenly...] *CLANK!* [With the loud clanging of sword hitting against steel armor, we open to a shot of a Roman Gladiator disposes of an opponent. His shirtless upper body gleaming with sweat and dirt, his arms and legs covered in dented armor, he turns to face the camera, pulling his helmet back away from his face. The camera quickly zooms in, and the gladiator morphs....into Dan Kauffman. Standing in dark shadows, his eyes burning with intensity, Kauffman looks the very picture of determination. The short blond hair, the scarred forehead, and the dented, forever-damaged jaw clenched into an angry grimace.] *P-CHIIINNNNGG!* [Next the scene changes, with the sound of a single, resounding gunshot filling the air. The shot reopens on a gunfighter, standing alone in a deserted desert town street, his smoking colt 6-shooter still clutched in one hand. He raises it, and then drops it into its holster, using his other hand to push his weathered stetson back from his sweaty forehead. As the camera zooms in on his face, with the mouth chewing slowly, he too morphs....into Chris Courtade. A close-up of the Legend Killer's face - framed by the blonde scraggly hair, etched with numerous scars, the cold blue eyes, and the mouth creased into a determined half-growl.] *TH-WOOOOOOOOOOP!* [And just as quickly we cut to another scene, with a sound of some type of wooden weapon being swung through the air. It's dark, but the black-clad figure of a Ninja Warrior steps into a patch of moonlight, a long wooden staff angled in front of his body. He stands motionless, but then in a flash brings a hand up to pull back his full-face ninja mask, and as he does so, he morphs....into Alex Extreme. Long black hair, goatee beard, and a determined look on his face just as intimidating as those before him.] *EEEEEEEE-YAAAAHHHHHHHHH!* [A fierce battle cry fills the air as the scene changes, the camera falling upon a figure very reminiscent of the movie Braveheart. He has long blond hair, a stained tartan kilt and shirt, and a large battle axe in his hands, and most strikingly, the blue warpaint which marks his face in a large cross. He thrusts the axe into the air, and the camera zooms in on his face, as he morphs into....Devon Case. Shadows cover half of his face, but the short black hair, the scar over his right eye, and the sneering mouth are clearly visible. He is the epitome of confidence, but tainted with a devious twinkle in his eye.] *HI-YAAYAAAYAYAYAYAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!* [Another war cry, but of a different kind, marks the next transition. Into shot comes a Native American warrior, his face splashed with red and yellow warpaint, and his head covered in symbolic feathers. His upper body is bare, showing many battle scars, and another swathe of warpaint, while in his hands he clutches at a blood-dripping knife. The camera zooms in on his fierce face, and he morphs....into Juan Vasquez. Even Vasquez, he of the perennial arrogant grin, has a look of sheer intimidation on his young, handsome Latino face.] *KA-BOOOOOOOMMMMM!* [The loudest noise so far greets us as the screen transitions right into a huge explosion, pieces of earth and God-knows-what thrusting into the air. As the smoke starts to clear, a figure dressed all in green gets up off the ground, and turns to the camera, a cautious look on his face. His head is covered with a green battle helmet, the front bearing an Ace of Spades playing card, while his hands clutch at an M-16 machine gun. The camera zooms in towards his battle-shocked face, and we see the final morph....into Luke Kinsey. Like all before him, his young face is etched with a menacing snarl, his long brownish-blondish hair framing a face whose youth belies its experience.] [And then, we fade to black, with the following logo exploding onto the screen!] _____ __ ___ ___ / ___/ ___ _ ___ _ ___ ___/ / / _ \ ___ _ ___ _ ___ |_ | / /__ / _ `/ / _ `// -_)/ _ / / , _// _ `/ / _ `// -_) / __/ \___/ \_,_/ \_, / \__/ \_,_/ /_/|_| \_,_/ \_, / \__/ /____/ /___/ /___/ [And then, as "Payback" by Flaw blares, suddenly the speakers fill will the screams of 60,000 fans, a split-second before....] *KA-BOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!* [Four huge white columns of pyrotechnics burst from the ringposts, thundering into the night air. We see it from an aerial camera shot, from high above the open-air stadium, the four shafts of blinding light reaching towards the night sky.] LVK: OH YEAH!! WE ARE LIVE IN THE HISTORIC COTTON BOWL STADIUM, IN THE HEART OF THE SOUTH, DALLAS, TEXAS!!! *KA-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM* *FSSSSHHHTT!!* *FSSSSHHHTT!!* *FSSSSHHHTT!!* *FSSSSHHHTT!!* *KA-BOOMMMMM!!* [More fireworks explode around the stadium, sending the capacity crowd into an even louder frenzy of excitement.] [After a momentary widened shot of the stadium and the surrounding city lights, the aerial camera again zooms back in on the stadium. Normally resembling a huge sunken version of the letter O in the ground, with double-tiered stands facing the sidelines of the football field, the Cotton Bowl is all lit-up tonight, and looks different than it would for football - the inner part of the "0" (the football field) filled with seating. . In one "end zone" sits a huge RiverTron big screen, the seating behind it empty and blocked off. At the other end of the what would normally be the big screen, the end with the player's tunnel, is another RiverTron, but this one is up in the stands, and to the left of the tunnel. To the right of the tunnel, also in the stands, is a huge metallic red and white mock-up of the RCW logo, standing some 20 feet high. The tunnel itself has a raised metallic silver rampway coming out, leading all the way to the wrestling ring itself, which sits at about the 20-yard-mark of the football field. There's no entranceway stage like for Impact, but the raised rampway cuts an imposing line through the crowd. The ring is surrounded by rows and rows of seats, which are just as jam-packed full of fans as the normal stadium seating. The camera cuts to ground-level and does a sweep of the stadium, taking in the thousands of screaming, excited, sign-waving fans. It then cuts to the ring, showing that it is slightly different than usual. The mat still bears blue RCW logo, but the ringropes are red tonight, the turnbuckle pads black. From the ring apron to the floor hangs a black apron-skirt, bearing the large words "Caged Rage 2" in metallic silver writing. The ringside floor is covered in a thin black and silver matting, and a metallic silver ring railing marks out the ringside area. It looks bigger tonight though, probably to allow the Rage in the Cage structure to cordon off an area around the ring while still leaving space between the cage and the crowd. Finally the camera comes to rest on the ringside table where our esteemed presenters, Larry Van Keel and Rick "Precious" Perle are sitting. Both are all dolled up for the special occasion, Larry wearing a smart, dark blue suit jacket, bearing a red RCW logo, and a black tie. Rick also wears a suit, a rare sight. His is dark grey, without a tie, and his head is covered in a red and black bandanna. Their names flash across the screen, and the music fades out.] LVK: Hello everyone, and welcome to Caged Rage! This is of course the second Caged Rage mega-event, and the first on pay-per-view, and Rick, I don't know about you, but to me it doesn't seem like a year since the last one! RP: It sure doesn't Van Keel. It seems like only yesterday Alex Extreme was being powerbombed through a hole in the top of the Rage in the Cage. LVK: The first Caged Rage was considered by many to be the best supercard of any kind in 2001, and, well...looking at tonight's line-up, it's a brave man who'd bet that tonight's event isn't going to be even better. Everything from barbwire to explosives, to no-disqualifiation, to tables - you name, and it's scheduled to go down tonight. We've also got four titles being defended here tonight, including the World Tagteam Championship and the World Light-Heavyweight Championship. But of course the big match that everyone's been talking about for months, our big main event - Devon Case and Dan Kauffman going one-on-one in the Rage in the Cage! RP: Oh man, this is gonna be something special. RCW keeps the Rage in the Cage structure under lock and key, and brings it out only once a year. For a wrestler in RCW, getting the chance to step inside of that huge steel monstrosity is a rare honor, kind of like making it to the Super Bowl. LVK: Indeed it is! And when you put two men inside of the Rage in the Cage with as much blood-hungry hatred as Devon Case and Dan Kauffman, and then add the fact that the winner gets to leave here tonight as the *first ever* RCW World Heavyweight Champion... [Larry pauses and sighs, shaking his head, before turning to Rick.] LVK: Rick, it gives me butterflies just thinking about it. RP: Van Keel, a new episode of Ally McBeal gives you butterflies. But even this [jabs a thumb at his chest] veteran of the ring, who's fought in world title matches, and been in more cage matches than I'd care to remember....even I'm getting sweaty palms thinking about it. Partly in apprehensive excitement for tonight's great matches, also partly because it feels surreal sitting out here in the middle Cotton goddamned Bowl, surrounded by 60,000 screaming fans. It's something else. [Wow, Rick actually looks a bit choked up.] LVK: These fans here in Dallas, Texas have seen some epic battles over the years, both on the football field and in the wrestling ring. And I for one can't wait to here the explosion of cheers when the Lone Star State's prodigal son, Chris Courtade comes out here later on for his match with Juan Vasquez. Well fans, I do believe that it's time for our first match, so let's cross now to David Stokes! [David Stokes, wearing a very smart tuxedo, looks around in awe of his surroundings, and then gets to work.] DS: Dallas, Texas [POP!] and all those watching at home....WELCOME TO CAGED RAGE 2! [HUMONGOUS POP!!!] DS: The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Pittsburgh, PA ...weighing in at 227 pounds.... GABRIIIIIIEEEEEEELLLLLLLLL PAAAAAAARRRRRKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEEEERRRRRR!!!!!!! [The lights dim slightly as the opening notes to Led Zeppelin's "No Quarter" fill the arena. No pyro, no spotlights...the curtain simply parts to let Gabriel Parker step on through. Parker is wearing his black hakama, with a plain black belt tied at the waist, and black wrestling boots. His fists are wrapped, as well as nearly half his forearm, in white athletic tape. Parker is walking in businesslike fashion to the ring, and if he hears how the crowd is reacting, he doesn't care. When he reaches the ring, he pauses for a moment, bowing his head, then quickly hops up to the ring apron and steps through the ropes, walking to a corner and stretching as he waits.] # Just make sure them... [Flashing red and white spotlights draw our attention to the curtains, while a drum machine provides a familiar beat.] # Them drums is smackin' [As Busta Rhymes calls out, Black Sabbath's classic 'Iron Man' guitar riff blasts from the public address. With that, those flashing lights stop altogether leaving us engulfed in total darkness.] # THIS... MEANS... WAR!! # ['This Means War' by Busta Rhymes and Ozzy Osbourne blasts into full gear as the charismatic Ethan Andrews rips through the curtains. The crowd pops mildly for him as he smirks, soaking in the adulation.] DS: Now introducing from San Diego, California... weighing in at 227 pounds... EEEEETTHAAN ANNNNNDDREEWWSSS!! [Andrews walks to the top of the ramp and poses, a confident grin on his face. He's dressed in simple, shiny purple and black tights. His boots match, with the word 'PHENOM' printed in cursive down the side. Ethe flashes his signature impish grin and winks at a few hotties in the aisle row, the caliber of girls they always show when they flash 'random' shots of the crowd at televised sporting events. He happily takes in the atmosphere, clearly excited to be back on pay-per-view. The 'Phenom' hooks both of his arms over the top rope, flipping over into the ring and spins around.] ___ __ _________________________________________________________________ / __\ /__\ |___ \ / / / \// __) | SINGLES MATCH / /___ / _ \ / __/ \____/ \/ \_/ |_____| Ethan Andrews \ vs written \ Gabriel Parker by \ many \____________________________________________________________________ *DING DING!!* [The two man lock up and quickly Andrews puts Parker into a headlock but Gabriel scoops up Ethan and sends him crashing down to the mat with a belly to back suplex. Parker does a quick kip-up and delivers two Muta-styled elbowdrops and then a few stiff kicks to Andrews' calves and thighs. As Gabriel measures for another blow, Ethan sweeps both legs sending Parker crashing to the mat. Both men quickly get to their feet and into a defensive posture as the crowd cheers the exchange.] RP: Why the hell are they cheering? Parker didn't beat him into 15 pieces yet! LVK: Guess they thought they just saw good wrestling. RP: Yeah? Well they guessed wrong. [The two go to lock-up again only this time Parker delievers a a stiff kick to the Phenom's left knee. Andrews falls to one knee as Parker delievers a roundhouse kick and Ethan stumbles back into the corner. Gabriel comes in firing chops to his midsection but Andrews fires back with a few European uppercuts. Parker staggers backward for a moment but then grabs the Phenom and plants him into the mat with a belly to belly suplex. Parker quickly tries to lock on the STF but Andrews wisely grabs the ropes and Parker backs off as Andrews gets to his knees.] RP: Damn, Parker almost had him. LVK: Smart wrestling by Andrews. Both men have been equally impressive so far. RP: Parker needs to quit playing around with this guy and put him away. I... LVK: WHOA, PARKER DROPKICKS' ANDREWS RIGHT ON THE CHIN AND ETHAN FALLS OUT OF THE RING! [Quinn admonishes Parker but is ignored as Parker slides out of the ring and delievers a few stiff kicks to Andrews. He then stands the phenom up, nails him with a spin kick, and then slams his head into the ring apron a few times. He goes to whip Ethan into the guardrail but Andrews reverses it sending Parker crashing into it and spill a few fans beer.] LVK: Andrews runs...CROSSBODY--NO, PARKER DUCKS AND ETHAN HITS PAVEMENT! RP: Serves him right. He... LVK: PARKER HOPS ONTO THE GUARDRAIL AND COMES OFF NAILING ANDREWS WITH A DEVASTATING KARATE KICK AND THE PHENOM IS DOWN! RP: Booyah, kick to the chops does it everytime! LVK: Parker brings "The Phenom" to his feet "THWWWAAAAAAAACCCKKK!!!" RP: Damn! LVK: A fast roundhouse kick to the head staggers Ethan Andrews, and just like that Parker takes the match back inside. RP: Well, that was fun. LVK: Gabriel Parker throws the Phenom in the ring, and scoops him up into a full nelson... "THUUUUUUUUUDD!!" RP: Sweet Jebus! LVK: Dragon suplex! Bridged! ONE!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!! KICKOUT! RP: Perhaps a little early for a pin, but it's the thought that counts. LVK: Back up, Gabe sends Andrews for the ride-KICK DUCKED! [Andrews ducks the thrust kick, and offers a kick of his own when Parker turns around. Gabe catches it though, but falls victim to a lightning quick enzuigiri from Andrews! POP! The Phenom brings Gabe up, quickly hooking on a double underhook and slooowly takes Parker over with a butterfly suplex that keeps Gabe in the air for as long as possible.] LVK: Nice suplex by the Phenom, who brings Parker up by his bald head... "WHAAAAAACK!" LVK: ...and lays in a stiff European uppercut! RP: Both guys have looked real sharp so far. LVK: Indeed they have. Ethan grabs Gabriel and sends him for the ride... "THWAAAAACCCKKK!" LVK: Bee-yoo-tiful dropkick by Ethan Andrews, who once more brings Gabriel Parker to his feet and sends him for the ride, jumping for a hurricanr- "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDD!!!" RP: Boom! Reversed into a sitout powerbomb! LVK: A thunderous maneuver at that! He hooks the legs... ONE!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!! KICKOUT AGAIN! [POP!] LVK: Gabriel Parker quickly gets to his feet while Andrews is a bit slower, taking his time... "THWAAAAP!" "THWAAAAP!" "THWAAAAP!" RP: And getting kicked in the legs for his troubles! Ha! LVK: Parker battering the Phenom... "THWAAAAP!" LVK: ...and has forced him to fall to his knees! [Gabe backs up for a second and then darts to the ropes, bounding off and coming in with a low dropkick... "THWAAAAAAAAACCCKK!!" ...that snaps Andrews' head back and lands the Phenom flat on his back! POP! Parker gets back up and again races off the ropes, jumping high and dropping a knee right to Ethan's throat, caushing the Phenom to spring up in fits of coughing. But everytime he leans forward to cough, Gabe is right there to kick him in the face and send him back to the mat! Slight HEEL POP for Parker's show of ruthlessness!] LVK: Parker is ruthless! RP: How original. LVK: This cold, callous man from Pittsburgh brings Andrews to his feet, hooks the arms... "THUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!!" [POP!] LVK: And _launches_ Ethan half way across the ring with a head and arms suplex! RP: Hell yeah, now it's getting good Van Keel! Not only can Gabe kick people's heads off, he can throw any suplex you can think of. LVK: Is that a fact? RP: Oh, that's a fact. LVK: Parker brings the hurting Phenom to his feet and sends him for the ride, bending over for a back-Andrews puts on the breaks and hooks Gabe for! "THUUUUUUDDD!!" LVK: Fisherman's suplex! ONE!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THR-PARKER KICKS OUT! [POP!] LVK: Andrews nearly pulled a fast one right there. RP: What a conniving little bastard! LVK: Both men spring to their feet and it's Andrews who's quicker to the draw, rocking Gabe with a succession of right hands and now locking him up---and tossing Parker with a belly to belly suplex! RP: Alright, this match needs some eye gouges and some nut shots. LVK: Why? RP: Wrestling clean sucks ass. LVK: Quite possibly...but it beats the kind of ridiculous behavior that Parker's showing here tonight... [On cue, Parker slowly gets to his knees, and as the ref attempts to shove Andrews back, Parker simply slips his hand between Andrews legs, and nails Andrews in the neither region, as Andrews slowly falls to his knees. Parker quickly up to his feet, as he bounces off the ropes...] _______THWAAAAAACKKKKK!__________ LVK: Oh my! Parker just double leg dropkicked Andrews square in the chin! RP: Now _that's_ how ya do it! LVK: Parker quickly makes a cover... ONE!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!! THRRRREEEE--- LVK: ANDREWS KICKED OUT!! RP: Gaaaaaah...GAAAAAAYYYYYYYY! LVK: Andrews really looks like he's on dream street here...he's rolling on the mat, clutching his face...and Parker's getting to his feet, stilll shaking off his own cobwebs. RP: This is about to be an lesson in who you kick someone's head off repeatedly. LVK: Parker gets Andrews to his feet, and takes him to the ropes. Parker hits the ropes himself, and takes flight... RP: WICKED! LVK: Spinning heel kick to the face of Andrews yet again! RP: Parker's gonna make this kid his little kick toy. LVK: Parker's got Andrews to his feet again, and he's arrogantly slapping Andrews across the cheek...and again... RP: I love this guy Parker...he's such a good sport! LVK: You're a frickin' idiot...Parker's an arrogant ass... [HUGE POP!] LVK: Andrews just snapped! Parker went for Andrews head with a kick, but Andrews caught his foot...Andrews fires right hands...and again...and again. RP: Ruh roh...the little twit's getting pissy! LVK: Andrews asks the crowd...they're on their feet...he's gonna nail Parker... ______THWWWWWWWAAAAAACCCCCCCCKKKK!!!________ LVK: Leaping enzuigiri by Parker! Andrews got his head nearly kicked off...he's down, and he's _out_! RP: Parker's got 'em now...he's got 'em right where he wants him... LVK: Parker's going for the pin... ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!! [HUGE POP!] LVK: ANDREWS BARELY KICKED OUT!! RP: THE HELL HE DID! SLOW COUNT! SLOW COUNT! LVK: You've got to believe that Parker's gonna wear down, if not physically, then mentally, as he's given every ounce of energy in those lethal feet...and Andrews won't say quit! RP: Parker's just geting warmed up! LVK: I wouldn't say that! [Parker slowly leans over, not pissed, but seemingly frustrated, as he grabs Andrews, and attempts to get him to his feet. He fires two solid knee strikes to the mid section, rocking Andrews, as Andrews arm is laid over Parker's neck, as he hooks Andrews's tights.] RP: He's going for it! LVK: Parker's going for that deadly brain buster he likes to use, to set up that wicked Stretch Plum... [But before he can, Andrews locks his foot around Parker's leg...thus stopping the attempt...] LVK: Andrews blocked! RP: GAAAAAYYYYYYYYY! LVK: Parker again...but Andrews blocks that! Andrews fires two rights in the stomach....small package! RP: NO!!!! ONE!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEE!!!!!! [HUGH SIGH] RP: PARKER KICKED OUT!! LVK: JUST BARELY! JUST BARELY! [The crowd's rocked back slightly, as each men seemingly springs to their feet.] LVK: Andrews is alive! RP: Must I say it anymore?! Do I need to break out the megaphone?! LVK: Oh please just shut up! Andrews and Parker are rocking each other with right hands...but Andrews takes the advantage...he takes Parker to the ropes...Parker ducks under a clothesline... [Sigh from the crowd, as each man connect heads with each other...both men flopping to the mat.] LVK: Double head shot...both men down...the count begins... ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! [Parker slowly gets to his feet...as does Andrews...] FIVE! [Andrews falls back to one knee...as Parker grabs the ropes.] SIX! LVK: Parker up first...Andrews up as well... RP: Parker's leaning against the ropes...he looks like he's damn near knocked out as is... [And just as he does that, Andrews gets suckered in, and slowly heads toward Parker...and as he does so, Parker, with every ounce in his head, in despiration...charges foward, spinning in mid air, extending his leg...and...] ______THHHHHWWWAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!_______ LVK: OH MY!! OH MY!! SPINNING THRUST KICK TO THE BACK OF ANDREWS'S HEAD!! RP: YES! YES! YES! LVK: But Parker's to the mat...he's clearly worn to shreds here...if he covers Andrews...it's got to be over. RP: Or if he hits the Revelation Driver...Andrews career might be "done"... [But Parker's down...and so is Andrews...] LVK: Both men are down...their not getting up... RP: Parker's slowly getting to his feet... LVK: He sure as hell is...and he's heading towards Andrews...and he's getting Andrews to his feet. Parker hooks the arm under his arm... RP: YES! HE'S GOT IT LOCKED IN! LVK: He's going for the Revelation Driver! [And he attempts to get Andrews in the air...but Andrews blocks with a toe hold, locking his foot to Andrews leg. Parker attempts again...but it's blocked yet again by Andrews...Andrews rolls foward, taking Parker with him....flipping Parker over his shoulders, sending him to the mat.] LVK: ANDREWS GOT OUT OF IT! HE RELEASED THE REVELATION DRIVER BEFORE HE GOT _SPIKED_! RP: He cheated...somehow...he cheated!!! LVK: Parker's getting to his feet...Andrews is up... [And as Parker wheels around...Andrews slaps his leg...] RP: NO!!!!!! [And slides foward, extending his leg....] LVK: ANNNNNNNDREWS! __________THWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!!________________ LVK: NIGHT CAP! NIGHT CAP!!! ANDREWS NAILS PARKER!! PARKER'S OUT COLD!! RP: GAAAAAAYYYYYY!! LVK: HERE'S THE COVER... ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! [Ding, Ding, Ding!] LVK: ANDREWS DID IT! HE BEAT GABRIEL PARKER TO KICK OFF CAGED RAGE 2!!! [Andrews climbs to his feet and mounts a corner, celebrating with the fans.] DS: Your winner..... ETHAN AAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDREWS!!!! [Andrews jumps down and runs to another corner, continuing his celebration, as we fade.] [Cut to the locker room of the Prime Time Players, which currently is only holding Vanessa, due to the fact Rick Sly and Monster are out searching for Social Distortion. Currently, she is smoking one of her ever-present cigarettes and contemplating a XXL kendo stick.] *knock* *knock* *knock* Vanessa: What the *bleep* do you want? Voice from outside the door: UPS, ma'am. Package for Vanessa Bellucini. [Vanessa slowly edges toward the door with her kendo stick, sensing the UPS delivery man may not be what he says he is. She gets to the door, opens it slowly, assumes a fighting stance... and lo and behold, it actually _is_ a UPS delivery man, wearing turd-brown slacks, a turd-brown shirt, and topped off with a turd-brown cap pulled down over his eyes, showing only the bottom-half of his clean-shaven face. At his feet is a brown parcel, roughly 3 feet high by 2 feet wide. He thrusts one of those damned clipboards toward Vanessa, along with a pen.] UPS Guy: Sign here, please. [Vanessa takes the pen a little anxiously, as if she's expecting it to explode. As she starts signing her name, a massive hamhock of a hand holding white towel comes from the side of the doorway and covers her face. She struggles for a few seconds, then falls unconscious.] UPS Guy: Quick! Get her in the room! [And into the picture quickly is the massive form of Jason Sick, with his hair dyed a combination of orange and purple for the occasion, wearing a T-shirt that says "Welcome to Planet Mother****er, Hope You Enjoy Your Stay" with the f-word taped over with black tape, and holding an aluminum baseball bat. He quickly picks up Vanessa with his free arm and tosses her onto a bench somewhat roughly as the UPS guy brings in the package and shuts the door, then takes his hat off to reveal the wild blue eyes and shaggy long brown hair of Joe Gonzo to a big pop from the crowd.] Jason Sick: That Clorophyll stuff worked like a charm, man. Joe Gonzo: It's chloroform, moron. And yeah, it did, didn't it? [Gonzo quickly rips open the parcel, with the camera pans over to, showing that it contains a pair of nunchaku sticks, a roll of duct tape, and a big roll of industrial strength shrink wrap. Gonzo jams the 'chucks into his back pocket, then tosses the roll of duct tape to Sick.] Gonzo: Ankles and hands, Jay. [Sick catches the roll and starts going to work on binding Vanessa's ankles and hands together. The crowd pops even more as one of their favorite targets of abuse is humiliated.] Sick: Hey bro, can I cover her mouth with the tape, too? It'd be really cool to not have to worry 'bout having to _hear_ the bitch tonight, either. [Gonzo shrugs as he notices Vanessa's kendo stick laying on the ground and goes over to pick it up.] Gonzo: Suit yerself. She'll be out for a while, anyhow. (Does a few kata exercises with the kendo stick) Nice stick. Think I'll take it. Sick: Aight. Ankles and hands are done. Wanna hand me the shrink wrap? Gonzo: You want my 'chucks to do a tap dance on your head? [Gonzo is grinning as he says this, and Jay just smirks back and goes and gets the roll.] Sick: Jackass. (grabs the roll and throws it to Gonzo, who drops the kendo stick and catches it). I'll hold her up, _you_ can wrap her. And make it _tight_. [Sick grabs Vanessa and stands up the still sleeping manager of the Prime Time Players. Gonzo pulls off a little piece of shrink wrap and sticks it on Vanessa's left shoulder, then Jason spins Vanessa around and around until Vanessa's body is completely covered in a layer of shrink wrap, except for her head. The crowd reaction is somewhere between uproarious laughter and "Oh my God, I can't believe they're actually doing this."] Gonzo: Think that's enough? Sick: Nah, couple more layers. [Gonzo and Sick complete the process a few more times. Except for Vanessa's head, which is still exposed, it looks like she's a caterpillar in a cocoon. Unfortunately, she probably won't be prettier when she gets out of it. Sick tosses her on the bench again.] Sick: Okay, let's make sure we're prepared.... Baseball bat? [Gonzo picks up the bat and hands it to Sick.] Gonzo: Check. Sick: Nunchucks? Gonzo: Check. Sick: Marlboros? [Gonzo fumbles around with his pockets for a bit, before finally pulling out a pack from the breast pocket on his UPS shirt.] Gonzo: Check. Sick: Hermaphrodite wrapped up like a mummy? Gonzo: Check. Sick: I think that's it.... (Sick looks at Vanessa, then gets a sly grin on his face)... wait, one more thing... [Sick bends down over Vanessa and _kisses_ her on the forehead.] Sick: Sweet dreams, _BABY_. [Gonzo, with a shocked look on his face, gives Sick a backhand slap on the shoulder.] Gonzo: Why the _hell_ would you kiss that thing? Sick: Because it will piss her off _sooooo_ much when she sees it on tape. C'mon, let's go. [Sick and Gonzo exit the locker room, with Sick holding the baseball bat and Gonzo holding Vanessa's kendo stick, with his nunchaku sticks hanging out of his back pocket. The camera angle changes to a wide shot of the hallway.] Sick: So, how long do you think it will take those two screwheads to figure out why we lured them out of their locker room? [Gonzo shrugs his shoulders, then peers down the hallway... where he sees, a bit off in the distance, the forms of Rick Sly and the Monster.] Gonzo: Not too *bleeping* long! It's on! [Now Sick notices the Prime Time Players as well, and he and Gonzo get their weapons ready and prepare for battle. The PTPers have by now seen them as well, and the two teams rush together, colliding into a huge melee! POP!] LVK: OH BOY! It looks like they're going to get this match started early - backstage! *THWACK!* LVK: OH! JASON SICK SWINGS THE BASEBALL BAT INTO RICK SLY'S MIDSECTION!! *THWACK!* RP: BUT THE MONSTER DUCKS GONZO'S SHOT WITH THE KENDO STICK, AND RAMS HIM FACEFIRST INTO THE CONCRETE WALL! [Sick and Monster turn to face each other, and Sick tees off, swinging for the fences. The big man ducks the shot though....] *CLAAANKK!!!* [...leaving the bat to hit nothing but concrete wall. Sick drops the bat as the vibrations reverberate through his arms, and The Monster brings a big clubbing forearm crashing down across his back. He then grabs Sick by the head and starts leading him off down the hallway.] LVK: This match hasn't even started, and things are clearly out of control! [The camera shot changes to one from out in the main arena, as The Monster leads Sick out of the entranceway onto the rampway. He leads him to about halfway to the ring, before Sick suddenly breaks free of his grasp, and spins, nailing the big man with a kick to the midsection. POP!] RP: There's two of them - where's the other two? [Usually when Rick asks something, the answer comes right away, and this is no exception, as Rick Sly comes sprinting through the entranceway, and flattens Sick from behind with a lariat to the back of the head. SHOCK POP!] LVK: Does that answer your question? RP: No. Where's Gonzo? [Sly leads Sick the rest of the way down the rampway, and throws him through the ropes. He climbs in after him, as The Monster gets to his hands and knees halfway up the ramp. Suddenly the fans POP as Joe Gonzo comes running down the aisle. He reaches The Monster just as the big man gets to the ring, and climbs in. The martial artist grabs the top rope and slingshots himself up.....] *THWACK!* *THUDDD!!!* [Face pop!] LVK: OH MY GOD! JOE GONZO WITH A SPRINGBOARD KARATE KICK, FLATTENING THE MONSTER!! [Gonzo rolls to his feet, but is immediately met with a big right hand from Rick Sly, who backs him into a corner. The Monster gets to his feet, shaking his head, and then starts going at it with Jason Sick!] ___ __ _________________________________________________________________ / __\ /__\ |___ \ / / / \// __) | TAGTEAM MATCH / /___ / _ \ / __/ \____/ \/ \_/ |_____| Prime Time Players \ vs written \ Social Distortion by \ Mark \____________________________________________________________________ *DING DING DING!* LVK: Finally they've gotten into the ring and this match is officially underway! RP: Hah! Officially?! They've been brawling for a good five minutes already! [The referee breaks the Monster and Jason Sick up and sends each man to his respective corner.] LVK: Well it looks like it'll be Rick Sly and Joe Gonzo starting things off. RP: Well they're already beating the crap outta each other so we're off to a good start! [Sly and Gonzo indeed beating the crap out of each other as they trade lefts and rights with neither man backing down an inch. Gonzo quickly lands a kneelift to the gut of Sly, nails a few hard forearm shots to the back before backing him up against the ropes and whipping him towards the opposite side of the ring...] LVK: Gonzo with an irish-whip...and a GONZOKICK! What impact with that Yakuza kick right to the face of Rick Sly! RP: I have a feeling RCW is going to be providing a lot of plastic surgeons with some business! [Rick Sly hits the mat hard after the stiff boot to the face but Gonzo doesn't lose a step, quickly dragging Sly to his feet and attempting a roundhouse kick which Sly ducks under. Sly spins Gonzo around and attempts a kick of his own to the gut but Gonzo catches his foot...] LVK: Enzuigiri-NO! Gonzo ducks and Sly hits the mat face-first! [Gonzo lets go of Sly's foot and begins to stomp him violently in the back of the head...] LVK: GOOD GOD!! Gonzo trying to scramble Sly's brain! RP: I told you the plastic surgeons are going to be thanking us tonight! [Gonzo walks over to his corner and tags in Jason Sick...] LVK: And here comes the big man! [Sick picks Sly up off the mat and quickly drops him with a huge running powerslam...] LVK: What a powerslam!! That's 586 pounds coming down on top of Rick Sly! RP: That sure is a chest-flattening move! LVK: And he's staying on top for a pinfall!! ONE!!! TWO!!!! THREEEEEE- LVK: NO! Somehow Sly manages to inch his shoulder off the mat! RP: Inch or not, getting your shoulder off the mat when a near 600 pound man is on top of you ain't easy! [Leaving Sly gasping for air, Sick gets back to his feet. Playing to the crowd a bit before turning back towards Sly and...] *THWAP!* LVK: JAWBUSTER!! [...getting nailed by a superkick.] RP: Sly wasn't as out of it as Jason Sick thought he was! LVK: That superkick has dazed Sick! [Still standing, Sick is shaky, a prime target for Sly, who runs to the ropes and comes off with an attempted cross-body block...] LVK: Does that EVER work on the big men? [...but gets caught by Jason Sick.] LVK: Amazingly, Jason Sick seems to have shaken off the effects of that superkick! RP: There ain't much to affect if you catch my drift... [Sick drops Sly with a bodyslam, gets back to his feet and hits an elbowdrop before getting back to his feet...] LVK: Jason Sick pretty much having his way with Rick Sly after simply shrugging off that superkick. [Lifting Sly to his feet, Jason Sick quickly military presses him right up over his head...] LVK: LOOK AT THE POWER OF JASON SICK!! RP: He's not even breaking a sweat! [Sick holds Sly high up above his head for a good 10 seconds before RP: Where's he going now... [Jason Sick walks over to the turnbuckle and...*gulp*...begins to climb the ropes...] LVK: My lord... [The big man takes flight with a moonsault...] RP: HOLY SHIZNIT!!! *THUD!* [Crowd pop!] LVK: Sick hits nothing but mat!! [Having rolled out of the way of Sick, and certain death, Sly slowly rolls the big man over onto his back and hooks a leg...] ONE!!! TWO!!!! THREEEEE- LVK: NO! Sick kicks out! [Sly gets up to his feet and walks over to his corner, tagging the Monster into the ring...] RP: Now here we go! LVK: We're about to have the battle of the titans! [The Monster calmly walks over to Jason Sick, who is still out of it after the disastrous moonsault. The Monster lifts Sick up to his feet and pushs him into the corner. The Monster begins to land repeated knee-lifts to his gut. After 4 or 5 knee-lifts, the Monster steps back and runs in with a clothesline...] LVK: The Monster trying to beat the life out of Jason Sick! RP: He ain't done yet!! [Stepping back again, the Monster lands another clothesline. He steps back again and lands one more before stepping to the side, lifting his foot and shoving his boot into the throat of Jason Sick...] LVK: Hey now come on! Get in there ref!! [The ref quickly puts the 5 count on the Monster, who lowers his foot at the count of 4. The Monster lands a few quick punchs to the head of Sick before grabbing him by the arm and whipping him into the opposite corner. The Monster runs in with another clothesline attempt...] LVK: No! Jason Sick moves out of the way! RP: Way to go Tons o' Fun! [The Monster runs chest-first into the turnbuckle and staggers backwards into the waiting arms of Jason Sick...] LVK: Sick hooks the Monster...BELLY-TO-BACK SUPLEX!!! RP: Probably the _biggest_ belly-to-back suplex in the history of wrestling! That's damn near a ton hitting the mat all at one time! LVK: Quite impressive. [Sick hooks a leg...] ONE!!! TWO!!!! THREEEEEEE- LVK: NO! The Monster gets a shoulder up! RP: It's gonna take more than a little suplex to keep the Monster down! [Jason Sick slides out of the ring and flips the ring apron up...] LVK: The big man seems to be looking for something... [Crowd pop!] RP: And he found it! TABLE!!! [Sick slides the table into the ring before walking over to the timekeeper's table, scaring a couple people away and taking their chairs. Sick tosses the two chairs he grabbed into the ring before climbing back into the ring...] RP: The Monster is waiting for him!!! [As Sick gets half way into the ring, The Monster runs and lands a huge boot to the side of his head, leaving Sick dazed and hung up on the middle rope. The Monster hops up onto the 2nd turnbuckle and leaps...] LVK: This ain't gonna be pretty... *THUD!* [Hardcore crowd pop!!] RP: HOLY GUACAMOLE!! LVK: The Monster with a legdrop that sends Sick face-first right into the mat!! RP: I like a good violent brawl as much as the next heterosexual male but the impact on that was UGLY! [The Monster rolls Sick over and covers him...] LVK: This has to be over!! ONE!!! TWO!!!! THREEEEEE- LVK: NO! Somehow Jason Sick is still conscious!! RP: Now that is impressive!! [The Monster climbs out of the ring onto the apron, walks back over to the turnbuckle and begins to climb them...] LVK: Maybe The Monster should learn from Sick's mistake...big men don't do good on the top rope! RP: But the Monster is no ordinary big man...he's the "Originator of Entertainment"! LVK: Yeah...I'm sure he is... [The Monster gets his feet under him on the top rope and than takes flight...] *THUD!* LVK: DIVING HEADBUTT!!! RP: Now Jason Sick could learn a few things from The Monster about big men doing high-flying moves! LVK: The Monster covers Sick! ONE!!! TWO!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE- LVK: NO! Sick just barely gets his shoulder up again!! [The Monster pounds the mat in frustration before getting up, stomping Sick a few times for good measure and tagging Rick Sly...] LVK: Here comes Rick Sly back into the match. Joe Gonzo is just itching to get back into the ring and help his partner out. RP: No...that "itching" is from something else! Haha! Zing! [Sly wastes no time in getting over to Jason Sick and beginning to stomp on him...] LVK: Rick Sly wisely trying to keep the big man on the canvas. [Sick simply begins to absorb the kicks and begins to get back to his feet.] RP: Uhm...the kicks ain't working Rick, go to plan B...PLAN B! [Sly abandons the stomps, grabs Jason sick by the arm, falls on top of him and locks him in a...] LVK: FUJIWARA ARMBAR!! Sly locks a Fujiwara armbar on the big man! RP: I guess that was plan B! LVK: Rick Sly does have educated feet, but with a big man like Jason Sick you need a lot of power to do any real damage and Sick was just simply absorbing those blows from Sly. RP: Well that's why Sly very wisely decided to BREAK HIS FRICKIN ARM!! LVK: ...ok. [Sly still wrenching on Sick's arm in the Fujiwara armbar...] LVK: Rick Sly yanking back on that arm for all he is worth, I'm not sure if he is actually trying to do damage or just keep Sick grounded until he can figure out what to do next! RP: Don't worry, Rick Sly knows exactly what he is doing...it's all part of his plan! [Sick begins to crawl his way towards his corner where Gonzo is anxiously awaiting the tag from his partner...] LVK: Amazing power and guts shown by Jason Sick as he is crawling along the canvas with Rick Sly on his back! RP: Well he certainly has a lot of guts! That much is more than obvious! LVK: Can it Rick! [Sick is getting closer and closer to his corner...] LVK: He's almost there...just a few more inchs and he can tag in Gonz-HEY! [Heel pop!] RP: Smart tag team wrestling!! LVK: The Monster comes into the ring and drags Sick back to the other side of the ring!! [Crowd pop!] LVK: And that's the straw that broke the camel's back!!! [Gonzo into the ring and runs at The Monster with a clothesline that takes the 7-footer right over the top rope and to the cement. Gonzo is about to exit the ring after him when he looks back at his partner still in the armbar...] LVK: Gonzo grabs Rick Sly! RP: Hey! No fair!! LVK: Eye for an eye Rick!! [Gonzo lifts Sly off his partner, quickly hooks him in a front facelock and...] LVK: LEGSWEEP DDT!!! Great move from Joe Gonzo!! RP: Get him out of the ring! He isn't the legal man!! LVK: Well it looks like he _is_ getting out of the ring Rick! [Gonzo exits the ring where The Monster has just gotten back to his feet...] LVK: Wait a minute! The Monster has that kendo stick that Gonzo took from Vanessa earlier in the night! RP: Good! It's back with it's rightful owner! [Gonzo sees The Monster has a weapon and thinking quickly, grabs the two chairs that were thrown into the ring earlier that luckily landed near where he is standing now.] LVK: What the- RP: Is he using those chairs as...ARMOR?!? [Gonzo holds a chair in each hand, so that they form gauntlet-like shields on his arms. As The Monster begins to take shots with the kendo stick, Gonzo blocks them with his chair-shields.] *CLANK!* *CLANK!* RP: This is pretty cool...it's like an old medieval sword battle! *CLANK!* *CLANK!* LVK: Wait a minute...Gonzo drops one of the chairs... [With a stiff chair shot...] *CLANK!* [...Gonzo breaks the kendo stick in half...] RP: What the?!? [...and quickly pulls out a pair of nunchuks from his back pocket. Thinking quickly also, The Monster grabs the chair that Gonzo dropped and blocks an attempted nunchuk shot. He blocks another and another before Gonzo goes down low and trips him up with the nunchuks...] LVK: Well that was certainly an inventive series of moves from The Monster and Gonzo. RP: Where is Gonzo going?! [Gonzo backs off as The Monster begins to get back to his feet...] RP: Gonzo knows he has angered the monster! He's outta there! LVK: Well I don't think th-LOOK OUT!!! *THUD!* [_HUGE_ CROWD POP!!!] LVK: DEAR GOD!!! RP: SWEET MERCIFUL PETE!! LVK: PLANCHA!!! JASON SICK WITH A SOMERSAULT PLANCHA!!! A FIVE _HUNDRED_ POUND MAN JUST PERFORMED A SOMERSAULT PLANCHA!!! RP: HAS HELL FROZEN OVER?! ARE THERE PIGS FLYING AROUND THE STADIUM!?!? [With that nothing-short of incredible move, Jason Sick took both himself and The Monster crashing into the guardrail. Both men lay un-moving on the ground. Gonzo quickly runs over and tends to his partner.] LVK: I hope neither of those men is hurt...but...my god that was simply amazing! Nearly 600 pounds and he flew over the top rope like a luchador!! RP: Like a luchador that spent a week locked inside a Burger King maybe! [Apparently Gonzo is content with his partner's condition because he quickly uses his nunchuks to start choking The Monster...] RP: Now that's just sad! The guy is unconscious and he is choking him! LVK: It's simple, these teams simply hate each other. Not to mention the fact that whoever wins this match will no doubt skyrocket up the tag team ranks in RCW. [The chokeout doesn't go on long as Sly comes to his partner's rescue, grabbing Gonzo from behind and...] LVK: REVERSE SUPLEX ON THE CONCRETE!!! RP: Sly makes the save just in the nick of time!! [Gonzo isn't out, but he's definately hurt as he clutchs his ribs and rolls around the concrete in agony.] LVK: Gonzo hit that concrete hard and his ribcage took the full brunt of the punishment. [Sly back to his feet, smiling and looking quite satisfied with himself, but he doesn't see who is getting back to his feet behind him...] RP: Uhm...Sly, turn around...oh please turn around! [Having recovered from the plancha, Jason Sick is standing right behind Sly. As Sly looks to be about to begin an assault on Gonzo, lifting his hands in the air, Sick grabs him from behind. Sly goes wide-eyed as he realize who's paws he is in...] LVK: Uh-oh! The tiger has his prey! RP: More like the elephant has his peanuts! [But as Sick hooks Sick...] LVK: The Monster!! He's up! RP: Sick ain't the only one who recovered from the Plancha!! [The Monster grabs Jason Sick, nails a few quick forearms to the back of the head and rolls him back into the ring. The Monster quickly climbs in after him and lifts Sick back to his feet. The Monster grabs him in a double-choke and...] RP: He isn't... LVK: HE IS!!! [The Monster lifts Sick off the mat...] *THUD!* [...and drops him in a two-handed choke slam.] LVK: Amazing power from The Monster, lifting the near 600-pounder right off the mat with relative ease! RP: That's about as impressive of a display of strength that you can get! [The Monster gets up and grabs the table that was slid in earlier by Jason Sick...] LVK: The Monster gettin' some wood! RP: That just...didn't sound right Larry. [On the outside, Rick Sly is whipping Gonzo back and forth between the ring apron and the guardrail. Back inside the ring, The Monster props the table up in the corner and walks back over to where Jason Sick is just now getting back up to his feet...] LVK: The Monster brings Sick back to his feet... RP: Somebody is gonna go through a table Larry! I love it! [Back on the outside, Sly has just slammed Gonzo on the concrete. Back in the ring, The Monster backs Sick into the corner...] LVK: He's gonna send him through that table!! Irishwhip-NO! Sick reverses...NO! The Monster holds onto his arm, CLOTHESLINE-NO! Sick ducks under...and Sick clotheslines The Monster down to the mat! RP: Hey...somebody was supposed to go through the table!! [On the outside, Gonzo has turned the tides and nailed a judo shoulder throw on Sly, sending him to the concrete. Back in the ring, Sick has The Monster up in the corner that the Monster had him in just seconds before.] LVK: Now it looks like The Monster is gonna be going through that table! RP: No fair! He brought it in the ring...he should get to use it! LVK: Actually Rick, Jason Sick brought it into the ring! RP: ...shut up. [Jason Sick whips The Monster towards the opposite corner and the table...] LVK: Irish-whip...no! The Monster reverses!!! [Sick stop shorts of going through the table...] LVK: THE MONSTER!!! *CRACK!* [_HUGE_ HARDCORE CROWD POP!!] RP: HOT DAMN!! LVK: SICK STOPPED SHORT OF THE TABLE BUT THE MONSTER JUST SPEARED HIM RIGHT THROUGH IT!!! [Back on the outside, Gonzo has a his nunchuks again and is repeatedly hitting Sly with them...] LVK: I don't think Gonzo knows what has just happened to his partner! [The Monster pulls Sick out from the wreckage of the table and covers him...] ONE!!! TWO!!!! THREEEEEEE- LVK: NO! Gonzo makes the save just in the nick of time!! RP: Damn! [Crowd buzz.] LVK: Hey! Where'd she come from?! RP: Vanessa! She's escaped!! [As Vanessa is making her way towards the ring, a groggy Sly staggers into the ring, looking like he really doesn't know where he is. Vanessa slides into the ring, gets right up to Gonzo and...] LVK: MIST SPRAY!!! [CROWD POP!] RP: DAMNIT! LVK: GONZO DUCKED AND VANESSA HIT RICK SLY WITH THE MIST!!! [Vanessa makes a quick exit to the ringside area as Gonzo climbs out of the ring and goes under the ring apron...] LVK: More weapons?!?! [CROWD POP!] RP: MORE TABLES!!! [Gonzo slides the table into the ring. He rolls back into the ring...] LVK: Gonzo didn't take out The Monster! RP: Bad mistake! [The Monster runs at Gonzo and just as Gonzo has gotten back into the ring, The Monster clotheslines him back over the top rope to the concrete. The Monster grabs the table Gonzo just put in the ring and sets it up in the middle of the ring...] LVK: The Monster us sure taking a liking to them tables tonight! [The Monster grabs the still dazed Jason Sick, picks him up off the mat and rolls him onto the table. Getting on the table himself, the two men defy every law of physics as the table doesn't break. The Monster lifts Sick up and sets him up in a standing headscissors...] LVK: He's setting him up! He's gonna Monsterbomb him through the table!! RP: Thank god! After what Social Distortion did to Vanessa that's exactly what he deserves!! [The Monster is just about to lift Sick into the Monsterbomb...] LVK: GONZO! [CROWD POP!] RP: Where'd he come from?! LVK: Gonzo nails the Monster with those nunchuks and he slumps down on top of Sick...WAIT A MINUTE!!! *THHHHUUUUDDDDD!* LVK: IRISH CAR BOMB OFF THE TABLE!!! RP: NOOOOO!!! [Gonzo dropkicks Sly out of the ring.] LVK: There goes Sly! Social Distortion now rolls the Monster onto the table...and Gonzo is going up top! [As Jason Sick keeps The Monster on the table with repeated lefts and right. Gonzo leaps...] *CRRACKK!!!* LVK: DOUBLE STOMP RIGHT THROUGH THE TABLE!!! RP: AAAARRRRRGGGHHHHH!!!!! LVK: THAT'S PART ONE!!! [Now Gonzo makes sure The Monster stays down as Jason Sick makes his way to the top turnbuckle...] LVK: HERE COMES SICK!!! *THUD!* LVK: FROGSPLASH!! THEY CALL THAT DEATH FROM ABOVE!!! [As Jason Sick covers, Sly attempts to get back into the ring but is quickly stopped by Gonzo with his "Penalty Shot" palm strike that sends him back to the concrete...] ONE!!! TWO!!!! THREE!!!!!!! *DING DING DING!* LVK: SOCIAL DISTORTION WIN IT!! [As David Stokes climbs into the ring, Jason Sick climbs up onto the turnbuckle and beats on his chest triumphantly, much to the liking of the crowd. Gonzo simply stares down at the Monster looking quite satisfied with himself...] DS: The winners of the match... ...SSSOOOCCCCIAAALLL DIITTOOORRRTTTIIOONNN!!!! [We cut to the back, and a shot of RCW's on-the-spot reporter, Goku Van Keel. Goku is wearing his usual wig and red blazer over his kimono, and greets us with a big smile.] GVK: Herro evelyone -- Goku Van Keer hele, lepolting to you rive, backstage hele at Caged Lage Two... What a night of a action we have seen so fal tonight! And thele is so much mole to come... Standing hele beside me is... [The camera pulls back, revealing Rembrandt standing beside Van Keel, back to the camera, head bowed. ] GVK: ... is a man we wirr see in action vely sholtry, tha kirrel flom Kyoto, Lemblandt. [No response from Rembrandt.] GVK: Lemblandt... You ale onry moments away from stepping into tha ling with Ethan Andrews and Losco Liggins... How do you feer? R: Eddie McIntyre, Goku. I think Ethan Andrews may've already had a match tonight. GVK: Ahhh... My a mistake, Lemblandt. [He lifts his head, and turns to face us.] R: Don't worry about it. They're practically the same person -- the only difference is that Eddie McIntyre is about twenty minutes away from having his career ended. GVK: So we can arr assume that youl detelmination is stlong? That you ale focused on the charrenge befole you? [A look of disgust crosses Rembrandt's face.] R: Challenge? _Challenge?_ Eddie McIntyre isn't healthy. He's got a bad wheel, and he can't protect it. I, obviously, am going to go out of my way to make that leg away from him completely... And unless Rosco Riggins is completely braindead -- which I suspect could be the case, for the record -- he'll be going after that ankle as well. GVK: What about Losco Liggins? How a do you feer about facing him? R: He is nothing to be concerned about, to be sure. In fact, I think Rosco Riggins can be summed up in one word: underwhelming. He knows a few submission holds, he can throw a few suplexes, but he's no Rembrandt. Even in his wildest dreams, he's no Rembrandt. GVK: You sound a vely confident. R: If you were me, Goku, you'd be very confident too. Neither McIntyre nor Riggins have what it takes to survive a match with me, plain and simple. They have both proven themselves to be incompetant in the ring, and in the case of Eddie McIntyre, he's feeling awfully desperate to prove himself tonight -- and what does everyone know about desperate men? GVK: They ale plone to making a rot of stupid mistakes and taking a rot of lisks. R: Exactly. He's not in the right frame of mind to compete tonight; he's going to lose his cool, he's going to make a mistake, and his career will be over before he realizes it. Plain and simple. [Rembrandt nods, and walks out of the shot.] GVK: Prain and simpre indeed... Back to you, Lally! [Cut back to Larry and Rick, and Larry is...um....not impressed.] RP: Hey Lally, what's up next? [Larry turns and gives Rick a dirty glare.] RP: Hey, it's funny! Goku Van Keel rules! LVK: How would you like it if there was a Lick Pelre? RP: Uh...that just sounds plain dirty. LVK: Let's send it off to David Stokes. [Cut to the baby faced ring announcer, ready to do his job.] DS: Ladies and gentlemen this next match is scheduled for ONE FALL...with a THIRTY MINUTE TIME LIMIT! [POP!] DS: Introducing first...hailing from PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA...and weighing in tonight at 254 POUNDS...MAKING HIS RCW INRING DEBUT... COOOOOOOLLLEEEEEEE DRUUUUUUGGGAAAAAAAAAANNNNN!!!! ["Binge and Purge" by Clutch begins to play throughout the arena, as Cole Druggan walks out of the back, a determined look on his face as the crowd pops slightly, not really towards either side of the appreciation spectrum...] # Perhaps it's just the way the light falls But everything looks like a target to me And I don't know where the gun is But I'm certain that it's pointed at me And in the jungle wretched jungle They say the lion eats tonight And all around it is a coliseum Dripping with a voracious appetite I say... hey there fella Whose soul are you tormenting now? Hey there fella Whose soul are you tormenting now? Hey there fella Whose soul are you tormenting now? # [Druggan glances briefly at his surroundings as he makes his way down the aisle and into the ring, seeming a bit indifferent on everything that's going on around him. Druggan is pretty much indifferent as he heads down the aisle, dressed in a pair of loose fitting black wrestling pants, black boots, and a black set of elbowpads, with his wrists taped. The bruiser from Pittsburgh loiters around ringside a bit, almost pacing in anticipation just a tad as "Binge and Purge" continues to play.] # In the course of all the previous events It is evident that's something's bout to happen Come on rear your ugly head to me I've got nothing to lose but my apathy The root of the problem has been isolated The root of the problem has been isolated The root of the problem has been isolated The root of the problem has been isolated # [As the song completely kicks in, Druggan slides into the ring, and immediately tests the ring ropes, cracking his knuckles and wringing his wrists as he waits for his opponent...] # C'mon motherf**ker! C'mon motherf**ker! C'mon motherf**ker, let's throw down! C'mon motherf**ker! C'mon motherf**ker! C'mon motherf**ker, let's throw down! Just try me! Just try me! What are ya waiting for?! C'mon motherf**ker, let's throw down! C'mon motherf**ker, let's go! Just rear your ugly f**kin' head, I'll put it on a platter! Just rear your ugly f**kin' head, I'll put it on a platter! So... C'mon motherf**ker! C'mon motherf**ker! C'mon motherf**ker, let's throw down! C'mon motherf**ker! C'mon motherf**ker! C'mon motherf**ker, let's go! I'll make ya wish that you'd never been born! I'll make ya wish that you'd never been born! I'll make ya wish that you'd never been born! C'mon motherf**ker, let's go! # [As the song fades out, Cole Druggan just keeps his eyes focused on the entryway, still waiting for his opponent...] RP: Jesus God, he's scary looking. LVK: Cole Druggan looks intense, intimidating and ready to go. DS: His opponent... ##AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH## ##AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH## ##AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH## ##AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH## [The driving guitars and primal screams of Alice in Chains' "Them Bones" can mean only one thing!] DS: From HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA...weighing 232 POUNDS...this is... "THE UPSTART KING" TRIIIIIIIIIIPPPP SHAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDEEEEEE!!! ##I BELIEVE## ##THEM BONES ARE ME## ##SOME SAY## ##WE'RE BORN INTO THE GRAVE## [Appearing at the top of the ramp, is Tripp Shade. >THIS< is the Tripp Shade we remember however. Close cropped haircut. Dark blue ring shorts. Hateful glare with Mighty Mjolnir in one hand. Shade quickly makes his way into the ring, shooting daggers at his opponent and slides into the ring, discarding the hammer and glaring at Cole Druggan, who glares right back.] ___ __ _________________________________________________________________ / __\ /__\ |___ \ / / / \// __) | SINGLES MATCH / /___ / _ \ / __/ \____/ \/ \_/ |_____| "Upstart King" Tripp Shade \ vs written \ Cole Druggan by \ Andy \____________________________________________________________________ *DING DING DING* LVK: And away we go with another grudge match here at Caged Rage 2. RP: And Cole's inring debut too! LVK: Of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that this is the RCW inring debut of Cole Druggan. RP: Good strategy by Fletch, holding off Cole's match until the PPV, thus giving viewers and or potential viewers more incentive to order Caged Rage. raising buyrates and such. LVK: Huh? RP: Ummm, nothing. LVK: Right. Both men circling each other, looking for an advantage, and it's Druggan who goes to initiate a tieup...but Shade ducks underneath, taunting Cole. RP: Not smart. [Again they go to tieup and Shade ducks underneath, pointing to his head and chuckling at Cole. Shade turns around to gloat and when he turns around is subject to a stiff running forearm smash to the head! HEEL POP! Cole wastes no time, opening up on the mug of the Upstart King with ferocious right hands that stagger Tripp back to the ropes.] LVK: Painful looking right hands by Druggan who sends Shade for the ride... "THWACK!" LVK: ...and rocks him with a clothesline coming back! Tripp scrambles back to his feet into a... "THUD!" RP: Belly to belly suplex! Druggan is throwing Tripp Shade around like a rag doll! LVK: We knew coming in that Cole Druggan was like a bulldozer, charging straight ahead and he's done exactly that so far. Druggan whips Tripp to the buckle... "KLAAACK!" LVK: ...and Shade hits hard, staggering out into a powerslam! [The Upstart King gets the hell out of the ring, re-thinking his strategy as he stares at Druggan. Tripp puts a hand to his back and begins to bait Cole, motioning for him to get his ass outside and Druggan obliges, jumping outside and chasing Tripp around the ring!] LVK: Smart strategy by Shade, making Druggan move around and lose his focus. Tripp rolls in and gets to his feet as Druggan slides in... [POP!] LVK: ...and Shade's all over him, stomping the hell out of Cole Druggan's back! RP: What a puss! LVK: Shade quickly figured out that he can't trade punches with Cole Druggan so he went to an alternate plan! Into the corner goes Druggan and Shade brings him to his feet... "WHAAACK!" LVK: ...pasting him with a European uppercut! That rocked the Pittsburgh native and now Shade opens up... "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKK!!!" "WHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKK!!!" "WHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKK!!!" "WHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" [HUGE POP!] LVK: ...WITH STINGING KNIFE EDGE CHOPS! Druggan's chest is red! [Shade turns around to gloat, the "Box Office" in him coming out a bit, and Cole takes advantage, grabbing Tripp by the hair and yanking him down to the mat. Cole quickly gets to his feet and drops a knee to Shade's face, then bends down and once again pummels the face of Tripp with venomous right hands! HEEL POP!] RP: This guy is great! None of those crazy flippy Jap moves, he just kicks your ass! LVK: Cole Druggan is certainly making Miss Cherry look like a genius right now. Back up and Druggan sends Shade for the ride, caught on the way back...hot shot! "THUUUUUUUUUUDDDD!!!" [HEEL POP!] RP: And Druggan drills Tripp with a snap DDT! Da-yum! LVK: Druggan with the cover, Teddy Lancaster counts.... ONE!!!!!!!!! T-KICKOUT! [POP!] LVK: Tripp Shade kicks out in plenty of time, but he has to be surprised at the flow of the match so far. [Druggan drags Tripp to his feet and scoops him up for a body slam but Shade slides down the back of Cole, spinning him around, hooking his head and dropping for a jawbreaker! POP! That staggers the Ego MAX's bodyguard and Shade quickly grabs Cole's left leg, whipping him over with a Dragon screw legwhip that leaves Cole grabbing for his knee.] LVK: Tripp Shade with some quick thinking and is right back in the match! Cole Druggan is back to his feet... "WHAACK!" RP: And Shade goes low with the knee clip! "WHAACK!" LVK: Another clip of the knee from Shade, and taking the legs out from under Cole Druggan is smart wrestling! Back up, Shade sends Druggan for the ride... "THUUD!" LVK: ...drop toe hold! Tripp stands up and grabs that left leg, dropping an elbow on it! Back up...and a knee to the left leg of Cole Druggan! [Druggan lets out a low growl of pain as Tripp sticks to his plan, twisting the leg around as he lays in short right hands to the wounded appendage. He lets go and brings the enforcer to his feet, sending him to the ropes and leapfrogging over Cole on the way back. Druggan bounds off the ropes again and once more Tripp leapfrogs over him, but when the Upstart King turns around...] "THWWAAAAAACCKK!!!" [HEEL POP!] LVK: SWEET JIMINY JESUS! WHAT A RIGHT HAND BY COLE DRUGGAN! RP: Goddamned right! Cole laid out Shade with _one punch_ and busted his lip to boot! [Zero in on Tripp Shade, his face smeared with the blood that is rapidly draining from his lip. He slips out of the ring once more, keeping his stare focused on Cole Druggan. Shade wipes off his face, clearing all the blood off and carefully creeping back into the squared circle, keeping his distance. Shade holds up his left hand as if to offer a...test of strength?!] LVK: Tripp Shade offers a test of strength? RP: What a moron. LVK: Druggan walks over and accep- [POP!] LVK: Gouge to the eyes! Shade set him up and now Tripp grabs the leg, scoring with a single leg takedown! RP: Shade goes for a figure four but Cole kicks him off. LVK: Drugan gets back to his feet and sends Shade for the ride... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDD!!!" RP: Spinning spinebuster! Booyah! LVK: And now Druggan goes back to work, straddling the Upstart King and pounding his face in with rights and lefts! RP: Cole gets back to his feet and... "WHOMP!" "WHOMP!" "WHOMP!" LVK: ...stomps the throat of Tripp Shade! [Druggan brings the Upstart King to his feet and grabs his head, twisting into a reverse neckbreaker! Cole rolls over, into a cover, as Teddy Lancaster slides into position...] LVK: ONE!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KICKOUT BY SHADE! [POP!] LVK: Tripp Shade has alot left in him. RP: But Cole Druggan is very quickly taking it out of him. LVK: Druggan now with a vertical headscissors, and he lifts for a piledriver-NO! Tripp won't budge. Cole tries for a lift again...SHADE SWEEPS THE LEGS! [HUGE POP!] RP: HEY! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! LVK: Tripp Shade with a stomp to the, uh, lower extremities... RP: ...to the nuts. LVK: And now Shade... "THUUD!" LVK: Drops the elbow to the left leg of Druggan! [Tripp quickly regains his feet and jumps onto the Ego MAX enforcer, ramming repeated right hands into the head of Druggan to a BIG POP! Shade gets in a few really stiff rights and stands up, bringing Cole with him and sending him for the ride. On the rebound the Upstart King buries a fist to the breadbasket of Druggan and races to the otherside, bounding off with a running neckbreaker! POP!] LVK: SHADE WITH THE COVER! ONE!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KICKOUT BY DRUGGAN! [HEEL POP!] RP: Whew, that was close! LVK: Both men back up and Druggan charges... "THUUD!" LVK: ...into a hiptoss! Up again and Cole charges once more... "THUUD!" LVK: ...deep armdrag from Shade! RP: Druggan's gotta keep the tempo down, he can't run around with Shade or this match is gonna go right down the tubes. LVK: Tripp races over to where Druggan is getting to his feet...plants a knee to the gut and grabs a headlock... "THUUUUUUDDD!!" [BIG POP!] LVK: ...AND HITS A BULLDOG! [Now on a roll, Shade brings Druggan to his feet and applies a standing headscissors, then lifts up for perhaps a powerbomb. But Cole Druggan easily slides down the back ofthe smaller Shade and spins him around for what can only be thought to be another devestating right hand ...but Tripp ducks the haymaker and rolls Cole up! POP!] LVK: SMALL PACKAGE!! ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TH-KICKOUT! ALMOST A VICTORY FOR TRIPP SHADE! [Disappointment POP!] RP: Back up, Shade charges at Cole... [HEEL POP!] RP: YES! LVK: Druggan scooped up Shade into a fireman's carry... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!!" RP: DEATH VALLEY DRIVER! HE DRILLED IT! [HUGE, MASSIVE HEEL POP!] LVK: Now what business does _she_ have being out here?! RP: Well Van Keel...it is her company. [They are of course talking about Miss Cherry, who has taken the liberty of strolling down to the ring. But Druggan pays no attention to her, bringing Shade into a vertical headscissors and lifting him up... "THUUUUUUUUDDDD!!" ...for a big jumping piledriver! HEEL POP!] LVK: Druggan plants him with a huge piledriver! But why isn't he covering Shade?! RP: Looks like he's getting a little tired. Needs a walk or something. [Druggan ducks outside and grabs the nearest chair, sliding in as Miss Cherry conveniently hops onto the apron and gives Teddy Lancaster an earful. Cole slides in and measures his opponent up, holding the chair vertically... "THWAAAAAAAAACCKKK!" ...and bringing it crashing down on the chronically injured neck of Shade! HUGE HEEL POP!] LVK: WHATTA SHOT WITH THAT CHAIR! SHADE WAS PUT OUT FOR SIX MONTHS WITH A BAD NECK AND COLE JUST CRACKED IT WITH A CHAIR! RP: Teddy's back on the job! Cover! LVK: ONE!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THR-SHOULDER UP! TRIPP GOT THE SHOULDER UP! [POP!] LVK: Tripp Shade could have had his neck re-injured at the hands of Cole Druggan and Miss Cherry can care less! What a heartless bitch! RP: Van Keel! LVK: Gotta call 'em like I see 'em. RP: ..... LVK: Druggan brings Shade to his feet and scoops him up, positioning him for a Northern Li-SHADE SLIDES DOWN THE BACK! TURN AROUND, BOOT TO THE GUT... "KAAAA-LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNKKKKK!!!" [MAJOR POP!] RP: OH CRAP! LVK: FISHERMAN BUSTAAAAHHH ON THE CHAIR! SHADE PLANTED HIM WITH THAT MOVE AND HE POPS RIGHT UP! RP: Tripp goes to the top rope, taking a moment to situate himself... LVK: He jumps... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDD!!!!" [HIGHSPOT POP!] LVK: MOONSAULT LEGDROP! RIGHT ON THE MONEY! HE COVERS... ONE!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FOUR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Eh?] LVK: DAMN HER, SHE'S AT IT AGAIN! SHE'S GOT LANCASTER DISTRACTED AGAIN AND HAS ROBBED TRIPP SHADE OF A WIN! [This pisses Tripp right off, and he huffs to his feet and violently turns Lancaster around, shouting at him loudly and not noticing Druggan getting to his feet and grabbing the chair. Tripp turns around and Cole throws the chair at him, then takes one step..... "WHHAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKK!!" ...and smashes the chair with a right cross! BIGASS MIXED POP! The chair is dented. Shade drops like a rock, and Druggan's right hand is busted wide open. Cole just looks at his hand, wipes the blood off on his pants and goes back to work.] RP: HOT DAMN! This guy is double tough Van Keel, he dented the damn chair and busted open his hand, and he couldn't care less! LVK: Cole Druggan has been more than impressive in his debut, and has Tripp Shade on the ropes! He lifts Shade up and grabs his arm... "THWAAAAAAAACCCKKK!!" LVK: ...and levels him with a short arm clothesline! RP: But he keeps hold of the arm and yanks Shade back into a kneelift! Ouch. LVK: Shade's bleeding buckets now, from the busted lip before and that incredible chairshot moments ago. Druggan picks up Tripp and whips him-REVERSED! Shade sends Cole for the ride... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!" [HUGE POP!] LVK: ...AND CATCHES HIM WITH A CRUSHING SPINEBUSTER!! RP: AARRGGHH! LVK: Now Tripp's got that chair and he's yelling at Druggan to get up, he's screaming at Cole Druggan! [And to his feet goes Cole Druggan as the Upstart King takes a two step approach, swings like a professional... "CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNGGGG!!!" ...and drives the chair into Druggan's knee! HUGE POP! But the King ain't through... "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKK!!!" ...and he rams the chair into Druggan's knee again. ANOTHER BIG POP!] LVK: SHADE FIGHTS FIRE WITH FIRE AND BRINGS DRUGGAN TO HIS FEET... RP: Tripp with the front facelock and he lifts Cole up...holding him up there... "THUD!" LVK: And drops with a vertical suplex! Shade rolls through and stands up, still holding onto Druggan... "THUD!" RP: Shade with a snap suplex! But he holds on again! LVK: Tripp Shade gets to his feet once more and lifts up...turning into... "THUUUUUUUUUD!!" [BIG POP!] LVK: ...FALCON ARROW! COVER! ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! T-KICKOUT! [HEEL POP!] LVK: Druggan gets the shoulder up, but Shade's on a roll! RP: Bah, Cole's just on the verge of turning this thing around. LVK: Tripp Shade's back to his feet and circling Druggan, measuring him up as the enforcer gets to his feet... [POP!] LVK: COBRA CLUTCH! HE'S GOT IT LOCKED IN! RP: But Cole's by the ropes! LVK: And Druggan gets the top rope, not a moment too soon! [Now firmly in control Shade pushes Druggan into the corner and goes to town with right hands, rocking Cole with each punch. But the bodyguard gets his hand up to block one a punch and quickly hits Shade in the throat, making the former Leading Man back off and gasp for air. Cole walks out and sends Tripp for the ride, lifting him for a Rydeen bomb on the rebound...but suddenly taking his hands away and punching Tripp right in the nuts! BIG HEEL POP!] LVK: That was... RP: Innovative? LVK: Among other things. RP: Hehehe. LVK: Miss Cherry's bodyguard applies a vertical headscissors and lifts... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!!" [HUGE HEEL POP!] RP: BUT HE'S NOT DONE! DRUGGAN LOCKS HIS HANDS AND LIFTS UP AGAIN! "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDD!!!" RP: GREAT GOOGILY MOOGILY! LVK: A SECOND POWERBOMB, AND THAT ONE SHOOK THE COTTON BOWL! RP: HIS HANDS ARE STILL LOCKED, DRUGGAN LIFTS FOR A THIRD! [HUGE FACE POP!] LVK: TRIPP USES HIUS OWN MOMENTUM AND FLIPS OVER THE BACK OF COLE INTO A SUNSET FLIP! [Tripp pulls on the legs of Druggan, trying to get the big man to fall, but instead Cole reaches down and punches Shade between the eyes. Druggan walks away, again wiping the blood off of his hand and waiting for Shade to get to his feet. When he does, Cole clubs him in the back with a forearm that knocks Shade back down.] LVK: Working on that neck now, and Druggan brings Shade back to his feet...sending him to the buckle..... "KLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKK!!!" "THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKK!!!" [HUGE HEEL POP!!] RP: SWASHBUCKLING LARIAT TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD! TRIPP DROPPED LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES! LVK: He calls that the Scythe! Shade's down and he's _out_! [Cole brings the ailing Upstart King to his feet and locks on a full nelson, swinging with the move to make the hold that much more painful. But somehow Tripp Shade slips out of the move and swings behind Druggan, grabbing an inverted facelock and dropping to the ground! HUGE POP!] LVK: INVERTED DDT! OUT OF NOWHERE!! RP: Ahhh crappola! LVK: Shade's back to his feet, waiting for Druggan to get up! Cole's to his feet... "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKK!!!" [IT'S ALL OVAH~! POP!] RP: SWEET MOTHER OF PERLE! LVK: ZHK! ZERO HEAT KICK, AND HE GOT IT ALL! OVER... ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TH-WHAT? [HUGE, MASSIVE HEEL POP!!] LVK: MISS CHERRY PULLED TEDDY LANCASTER OUT OF THE RING! SHE ROBBED TRIPP SHADE OF A WIN!! RP: She did not! She has business to discuss with Teddy! LVK: Oh bullshirt! She screws another RCW wrestler again! What a bitch! RP: If she screwed Tripp Shade, it'd be the best six seconds of his life. [The infuriated Upstart King races to the ropes, leans over and grabs himself a tasty catch, namely the strawberry blonde locks of Miss Cherry! POP! Tripp pulls the skank ass bitch to the apron, and to a mighty pop winds up to knock the makeup off of Miss Cherry...but has his arm caught by Cole Druggan! POP!] LVK: Cole turns Shade around...elbow to the throat! RP: Yowch! LVK: Druggan turns Shade around, inverted facelock... "THUUUUUUUUUDDDD!!!" RP: DROPPED INTO AN ACE CRUSHER!! LVK: THAT'S THE IRON CITY CRACKSHOT! INVERTED SUPLEX INTO A THREE QUARTER NECKBREAKER! COVER... ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RP: YES! DRUGGAN WINS HIS DEBUT! LVK: MISS CHERRY STRIKES AGAIN! AGAIN SHE SCREWS THINGS UP! THAT BITCH HAS TO BE STOPPED! *DING DING DING* DS: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the match.... COOOOOOOOOLLLEEEEEE DRUUUUUUUUUUGAAAAAAANNNNNNN!!!! [Teddy Lancaster raises the hand of the victorious Cole Druggan as Miss Cherry slinks into the ring to celebrate. Druggan boots Shade out of the ring as Cherry talks smack, and then raises his hands once more.] [Fade out.] [The camera fades back to the locker room area of The Cotton Bowl as Randy Blackstone is seen talking to a couple of the staff workers, wondering when the next major story of the evening might break. As he lights a cigarette for some attractive young redhead in a staff t-shirt, the door behind him swings open - and standing in the doorway - framed in the fading sunlight from outside of everyone's favorite bastard ... "Excessive Force" Eric Vanguard.] [The former President of RCW is wearing a pair of tight fitting black jeans, a black t-shirt with a picture of John Wayne on the front, and a black Stetson cowboy hat. Over his shoulder he has a black duffel bag, out of which sticks his trademark nightstick. Taking a final drag from a cigarette, Vanguard flicks the butt out the doorway, and then proceeds into the building, as Randy Blackstone grabs a microphone off of the cameraman.] RB: "Mr. Vanguard! Mr. Vanguard! Can I get a word with you?" EV: "Actually Randy my man, I have a few questions that you can answer for me. Number one - why are you yelling when I am standing right here?" [Blackstone doesn't answer.] EV: "Number two - What do ya think about the cowboy hat?" [Smirking, Vanguard reaches up and tips the brim of his hat.] RB: "Well um ... er ... " EV: "It's the whole analogy thing. Remember? Madison wanted me to be the bad guy. Everybody is seeing me as the bad guy. Bad guys wear black hats." [Blackstone just continues to stare at Vanguard with an expression on his face as it he were smelling sour milk.] EV: "Ah screw it, I knew it was a bad idea. Cowboys are friggin gay anyways..." [And the deafening jeers from inside The Cotton Bowl lets Vanguard know that all eyes are focused on him, as his picture is emblazoned upon The RiverTron.] EV: "What's their problem? Oh well ... Let me ask you this then Randy. When you hear the words Caged Rage ... What is the first thing that comes to your mind Randy?" RB: "Carson Nash being bitten by a rattlesnake?" [The eyes of Vanguard nearly pop out of his head.] EV: "What?!? I thought Kinsey and Vasquez were the only ones who remembered that? No ... what else?" RB: "Well there is the Light Heavyweight Classic between Raya Oscura and Erik Jorgensen." [The look on the former prison guards face makes it obvious that this wasn't the answer he was looking for either.] EV: "Try AGAIN!" RB: "..." EV: "Match Of The Year Candidate?" RB: "Oh, you mean the successful title defense of Alex Extreme in the Caged Rage Match?" EV: "Aaaaand..." RB: "Chris Gotham turning on his long time friend Alex Extreme and ..." EV: "Aaaaaaand...." RB: "Something tells me you're looking for a specific answer." [Vanguard rolls his eyes, and finally decides to fill the self-proclaimed "broadcast journalist" in on the answer.] EV: "I am talking about when I turned around and powerbombed Alex Extreme through a gaping hole in the top of the cage, and made my name and _ONLY_ my name synonymous with this PPV. I am talking about nailing Extreme with such a devastating move, that no matter what Devon Case and Dan Kauffman do tonight ... they will NOT outdo it. When you think of Caged Rage, you think of one name ERIC VANGUARD." RB: (Mumbling under his breath) "If you say so." [Hearing the words, Vanguard quickly approaches Blackstone - backing him into the corner.] EV: "I DO SAY SO. I made history last year at Caged Rage ... I made a moment for the highlight reels ... and I will be damned it next year people are talking about Luke Kinsey and Alex Extreme ... or Tommy Stephens and Gabriel Whitecross ... or Juan Vasquez and Chris Fin Courtade ... Tonight is MY night ... and that greedy, selfish, son of a bitch Madison J. Valentine tried to screw me out of it, by being a dips**t and getting himself fired. Well F you Valentine, F you Blackstone, and if you see Clint Fletcher, you can tell him to go f himself too ... because I will make my name here again tonight, and the expense of the poor sap that I want ... " [And suddenly the eyes of Eric Vanguard raise, to notice Clint Fletcher rounding the corner to his office. Grabbing Blackstone by the lapel, Vanguard begins to stalk angrily towards the Owner of River City Wrestling.] EV: "HEY FLETCHER!!!!" [Hearing his name, Clint Fletcher turns and notices Vanguard rapidly approaching him ... he goes to open his mouth, but Vanguard quickly speaks over him.] EV: "Shut up, I don't want to hear a single word from you ... yet. I came here tonight for one reason, and one reason only ... to lay the beating of a lifetime on one unlucky individual. Your job, should you choose to accept it, is to pick that poor bastard and get him out in that ring for my match ... MY LAST MAN STANDING MATCH." [Vanguard suddenly swings around, and notices that the staff members followed behind them to see what the ruckus was all about. Looking at the redhead, Vanguard points a finger at her.] EV: "And your job is to order the flowers for his funeral, and send his family my condolences. And now that everybody knows their job, get to fing work." [Smirking, Fletch looks up.] CF: "Done." [Vanguard turns and looks at Fletch inquisitively.] EV: "Done?" CF: "But of course. I saw The Countdown ... I heard your little challenge ... and I knew you would come here looking for a fight ... and I think I can have that one arranged." [Rubbing his hands together, Fletcher appears to be glowing in delight.] CF: "Would you like to know who it is?" [Vanguard thinks for about a half a second.] EV: "Boy Fletch, seems like you really WANT to tell me ... so ya know what, go and f yourself ... I can wait. Or should I say I CAN'T WAIT to beat him from pillar to post, from limb to limb, and give these people a night to remember. Now if you'll excuse me." [Turning hastily, Vanguard starts down the hallway - kicking open doors, in search of a locker room. Shrugging, Fletch turns to find the microphone of Randy Blackstone still in his face.] CF: "What?" RB: "I'd like to know ..." [Fletcher smirks, chuckling to himself.] CF: "Well, Randy, let's just say that earlier this week I had an interesting phone call with a certain wrestler who was fired on Impact last week. I didn't much like the way that he was fired by our esteemed President, so I told him that if he was to turn up here tonight, I wouldn't *stop* him from exacting whatever revenge he has in mind." RB: "So, you-" CF: "You figure out the minor details yourself Randy. But if this person does show up here tonight, any fight, any match he has with Eric Vanguard will be totally unsanctioned by RCW. But like I said, I'm not going to stop it either." RB: "But wha-" CF: "Randy, I'm a busy man. I've got a damn pay-per-view to run!" [And with that Fletcher turns and walks off, leaving Randy looking a bit pissed off. He turns back to the camera.] RB: "You heard it! Back to you Larry!" [Cut back to the announce table.] LVK: Well, well....an interesting announcement there by Mr Fletcher! If Madison J. Valentine shows up tonight, he won't be stopped from entering the building! And if he goes after Vanguard, he won't be stopped! RP: What kind of crap is that? Valentine was fired! He's banned! LVK: Apparently not tonight. RP: And what about Vanguard! He didn't hear any of what Fletcher just said! He doesn't have a clue that MJV might show up here tonight and go after him! LVK: I'm sure he'll find out soon enough. Well fans, up next, a match with a helluva lot of hatred behind it... RP: Oh baby. LVK: Riggins... McIntyre... Rembrandt. RP: This is gonna be *intense*, Van Keel. LVK: Without a doubt. And this all started in St. Louis, at Glory, when-- RP: [interrupting] When Rembrandt snapped McIntyre's foot off. LVK: Yessir. McIntyre has only been able to walk properly for about two weeks or so, but that hasn't stopped him from repeatedly calling out the Kyoto Killer-- RP: -- and it hasn't stopped Rembrandt from kicking his ass, either. LVK: Uh-huh. The whole thing got a little more complicated when Rosco Riggins became involved, defending McIntyre from Rembrandt, but when he refused to wrestle them both on tonight's pay-per-view, Riggins turned on McIntyre and the three-way was scheduled. Let's go up to David Stokes with the introductions... [And we do.] DS: The following is a three-way contest, scheduled for one fall - the first man to score a pinfall or submission will be the winner! [pop!] Introducing first... #KILLING IN THE NAME OF!# [The excited crowd comes to their feet as Rage Against The Machine's "Killing in the Name Of" hits over the PA system. Blue lights flash through the arena as the entrance way is ignited with strobe like flashes. The audience's volume increases as smoke fills the entrance way.] [A figure steps through the smoke and the crowd let's out a positive, and loud POP! Pausing at the top of the ramp is Rosco Riggins, looking deadly focused.] DS: From Edmonton, Alberta, weighing in at 245lbs... ROSCO RIGGINS! [Riggins is a well built, strongly toned fighting machine. Thick legs, wide shoulders and heavy neck show the posture and look of a true fighter. His head is shaved clean as is his face, although he sometimes sports a 5 o'clock shadow on both. Riggins walks with the grace and balance of a well oiled machine, obviously strictly dedicated to his chosen endeveour. A slightly crooked nose, strong features, tanned skin and intense demeanor show why he has the reputation he does. Riggins attire has changed quite a bit. His wrestling shorts, 3/4 thigh length, are pure black as are his knee pads and 1/2 length wrestling boots. Black elbow pads/braces and black tape wrapping his hands, wrists and bottom portion of his forearms complete the simple yet effective ensemble.] [Making his way down the aisle, he steps into the ring, walking to his corner.] LVK: Riggins, really the 'X factor' in this match... RP: Y'know, if he'd only punk out McIntyre more... I could really hate him less. DS: .. his opponent! #WHAT YOU SEE IS WHAT YOU GET NOW!!# [Sevendust and Xzibit's testosterone fuelled version of 'What U See is What U Get' explodes over the PA, which means only one thing...] DS: Weighing in at 200lbs... .... EDDIE McINTYYYYYYYYRE!! [POP!!] #What you see is what you get now #Xzibit never wait around for kick downs, get my own s**t, blow #Shot heard around the world #Uplift, bench press, arm curl, keep the structure of the temple #To make things simple my existence is to ripple through time #Only concern is what is mine, divine, never monkey shine #walkin' down the very thin line, holdin' wait, runnin' crazy in the streets, yeah #Plus the company I keep work in overtime #while you oversleep don't wanna see none of this evil I speak #Around on the atlas, cume la matra, the super actress #You all get close-lined and pinned the mattress #All day, every day, every which way #Who said to can't have your take, you need a tune (f**k you) #This is a hard time on planet earth #for what it's worth Xzibit stand station without rehabilitation like this [Eddie McIntyre, bathed in single spotlight from the arena rafters, walks out from the grand River City Wrestling entrance portal. Dressed in his usual ring attire of a pair of basic black pants, complete with belt, and plain black RCW t-shirt, Eddie looks determined to make his mark in this match. Members of the crowd reach out to touch the youngster but Eddie ignores them, his attention clearly focused on the impending war of attrition with Rembrandt and Rosco Riggins.] #Pimps, players, hoes, hustlers, willes thugs, ballers, busters, gangstas, macks everyday, all #day, shot callers, even high rollers keep it moving [Eddie, a look of grim determination spread across his youthful face, reaches the ring. Eddie, in an all too brief flicker of his former self, hops up onto the apron. Standing on the apron, Eddie pauses for a brief second, looking into the ring, before slinging himself into the ring, hand on the top rope.] #What you see is what you get now #The kinda style make the whole world go wow #Bless the child like a hoe who's on flesh 'n bone #and no matter where I roam I feel right at home [In the ring, Eddie looks out over the crowd and his intense nerves, tension and apprehension are apparent for all to see. Yanking his t-shirt over his head and throwing it to the outside seems to do something for the former Tampa employee's confidence, but you can't help but feel like you're seeing a lamb being led to the slaughter.] #What you see is what you get now #The kinda style make the whole world go wow #Bless the child like a hoe who's on flesh 'n bone #and no matter where I roam I feel right at home #And that's the real s**t [Eddie motions to David Stokes who, reluctantly, sling Eddie his wireless microphone. Catching it in one smooth motion, Eddie brings the stick up to his lips for a word with the crowd. When the Texas crowd see his about to speak, a hush falls over the Texas crowd...] EM: This is it... No more back stabbing... No more interference... Nothing else... _The end_. *CLUNK* [With those simple, poignant, words, Eddie drops the mic to the floor, forcing Stokesy to begrudgingly move over and pick it up and stares down to the entrance, a look of the deepest intensity eminating from his crystalline blue eyes.] [It's on.] LVK: Having his ankle broken really has changed Eddie McIntyre's outlook on this business, Rick. If you go back just a few weeks, to Glory, it's like you're watching a whole different performer, now... a lot more intense, more focused... RP: And an even *bigger* punkhead. If that's possible. DS: AND FINALLY, THEIR OPPONENT!! RP: Now, a man with *real* class. DS: FROM KYOTO, JAPAN AND WEIGHING 240 POUNDS... ... RRREEEEEMBRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNDT!!!!! # WHEN YOU'RE RIPE YOU'LL BLEED OUT OF CONTROL! YOU'LL BLEED OUT OF CONTROL! # [Heel pop! "Elite" by the Deftones begins blasting over the PA system, and the killer attached to the music, Rembrandt, emerges from behind the curtain. Dressed in a pair of loose black pants, black boots, black gloves, and blood red & black shinguards, Rembrandt has an all business look about him tonight. He walks down the aisle at a normal pace, not stopping once to survey the crowd or any of that.] LVK: Oh boy... the Killer from Kyoto, one *dangerous* individual... [Reaching the ringside area, Rembrandt finds his path to the ring steps blocked by a college student waving an 'Ego FUX' sign. Swatting it to the floor, Rembrant glares at the guy, pointing at him ominously. As he turns away, though, a blurry figure suddenly explodes into the shot, seemingly out of nowhere...] LVK: WAITAMINUTE!!! *CRASH!!* ['IT'S *ON*!!' POP!!] RP: HOLY GUACAMOLE!! LVK: McINTYRE WENT FOR THE TOPE CON HILO - BUT REMBRANDT SIDESTEPPED!! [Colliding with the guardrail face-first, McIntyre slumps into a heap before collapsing on to his back, a greasy red streak clearly visible in his hairline. Rembrandt is galvanised to action, sliding under the bottom rope on his stomach, but rising into a flurry of hard, downward forearm blows from Rosco Riggins...] ___ __ _________________________________________________________________ / __\ /__\ |___ \ / / / \// __) | THREE-WAY DANCE / /___ / _ \ / __/ \____/ \/ \_/ |_____| Rembrandt vs Eddie McIntyre \ vs written \ Rosco Riggins by \ Ian \____________________________________________________________________ *DING! DING! DING!* LVK: And now Riggins and Rembrandt going at it! [Rembrandt manages to battle through Riggins' barrage, rising to his full height and blocking a right hand. Cracking Riggins in the cheekbone with a palm strike, Rembrandt knocks him off-balance, before lashing out with those deadly feet...] *SMACK!* RP: Lord! LVK: Rembrandt with a *hard* kick to the thigh! *SMACK!* RP: Whoa-ho! Another! [And with the Edmonton native clutching at his leg, Rembrandt steps back...] *THWACK!* [STIFFNESS POP!!] RP: Hot damn! LVK: Good Lord - *what* a standing roundhouse kick by Rembrandt! RP: He's a monster, Van Keel - he'll take your head off without thinkin' twice! [But to his credit, Riggins doesn't go down. He stumbles sideways into the corner, clutching the side of his head. Rembrandt wastes no time at all in following up, trailing the former Challenger's Choice Champion and snatching him in a waistlock. McIntyre, meanwhile, staggers to his feet on the outside...] LVK: Rembrandt with the German-- [But Riggins blocks it. He fights out of the corner with Rembrandt's arms still locked around his waist, blocking a second attempt and slipping round the corner into a waistlock of his own. This time, it's Rembrandt who blocks, grabbing the middle rope - when McIntyre slingshots over the top rope, off the apron...] RP: What the-?! *THUD!* [UNIQUE-LOOKING COMBO POP!!] LVK: Oh boy! Ingenius manoeuvre by Eddie McIntyre! [Diving over both his opponents, McIntyre in fact took Riggins over with a sunset flip, which caused the Canadian to snap Rembrandt over in the German suplex. Holding the back of his head, the Ego MAX enforcer rolls away on to the apron, as a slightly bloodied McIntyre and Riggins race to their feet...] *SMACK!* *WHOOO!* *SMACK!* *WHOOO!* *SMACK!* *WHOOO!* *SMACK!* *WHOOO!* LVK: McIntyre and Riggins going at it, now! *Listen* to those chops! RP: Look at Rembrandt, taking time to recover... smart move, Van Keel... [With both men sporting fresh, pink welts on their pectorals, Riggins - with McIntyre on the back foot - winds up for a trademark heavy-duty knife-edge. But as he swings, the youngster from Chicago ducks underneath, spins, and sends him reeling back with a stiff European uppercut! McIntyre grabs him by the wrist...] LVK: *Big* shot by McIntyre! RP: I didn't know the punk had it in him! LVK: Riggins sent to the far side.. *OOOOHH!!* LVK: Oh man! McIntyre went for that superkick - Riggins came within inches! [Ducking underneath, Riggins rebounds off the near side into a baseball slide, slipping through McIntyre's legs as he turns, taking his vertical base out from under him, before wrenching back in a *harsh* half crab! SHRIEKY PANIC POP!!] LVK: And Riggins has got him! RP: The ankle! The ankle! LVK: Riggins with that half Boston synched in! RP: He's gotta tap out, Van Keel! Riggins'll rip that foot off! LVK: Wait! Rembrandt in the ring! *THWACK!* [STIFFNESS POP NUMERO DOS!!] RP: HOLY SCHNIKIES!! LVK: GOOD GOD!! REMBRANDT WITH THE SAVATE KICK!! RP: How in the hell is Riggins' head still attached to his body?! [The man from Edmonton goes down like he's been shot, his face buried into the mat. Rembrandt wastes no further time with him, spying McIntyre vulnerable and lying on his stomach. And then... he grabs the ankle. GIGANTIC PROTEST POP!!!] LVK: Oh my God - no! RP: Do it! LVK: Rembrandt's got the injured ankle! [McIntyre's eyes widen with fear, and he claws himself into the ropes with the urgency of a cornered animal before Rembrandt can apply the hold properly. Teddy Lancaster interjects for the break, but the killer ignores him, tearing McIntyre from the ropes and dragging him out into the center of the ring.. PROTEST POP!!] LVK: Rembrandt's got him again! [And the young high-flyer starts clawing for the ropes again, knowing he has no choice but to escape the hold, but Rembrandt stands firm. As he applies the pressure, McIntyre cries out in pain, the crowd sounding a HUGE HEEL/PANIC POP!] RP: He's gonna snap it again! He's gonna put McIntyre out for good, this time! LVK: Rembrandt is *merciless*! He wants to end McIntyre's career! RP: Didn't I just say that? [As a last resort, McIntyre bridges up, putting all his weight on the top of his head. Forcing his feet underneath Rembrandt's arms, he rolls forward, taking his opponent down and trapping him in a pinning cradle! COUNTER-MOVE SHOCK POP!!!] LVK: WAIT! WAIT! McINTYRE'S GOT HIM ROLLED UP!! ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [DISAPPOINTED POP!!] LVK: Oh boy! McIntyre with a *hot* near-fall! RP: Puh-leaze. Not even close, Van Keel - give it up. [Rembrandt pops right back up, with McIntyre not far behind, despite the problems his ankle is obviously causing him. And it's the ankle that's got a bullseye painted on it, as Rembrandt dives at the leg, tripping McIntyre on to his back and twisting him right back over into the ankle-lock! PROTEST POP!!!] LVK: Rembrandt with the ankle-lock - for the third time, now! RP: Sick! I love it! [McIntyre bridges up into the counter attempt, but Rembrandt's wise to it this time, twisting the ankle an extra thirty degrees or so to pin the kid to the canvas with pain. He reaches for the ropes - but they must seem miles away, to him. Teddy Lancaster asks if he wants to submit, and he raises his hand...] LVK: RIGGINS-!! *THUD!* [POP!!] RP: CRAP!! LVK: BELLY-TO-BACK SUPLEX!! THE BRIDGE!! ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TH- NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [NEAR-FALL POP!!] LVK: Good *Lord* that was close!! RP: Where the hell did that come from, Van Keel? [As McIntyre pulls himself out on to the apron, Rembrandt rolls on to his side, holding the back of his head. Riggins sits up, holding his jaw after the earlier savate kick from the Kyoto killer, before getting to his feet, hooking Rembrandt's leg at the knee, and attempting to turn him into the half crab...] LVK: Oh! Riggins may have him, here, going for the half crab again... RP: Fight it, Remmy - *fight it*! [And he does, refusing to be turned, pitting every ounce of strength he can muster from those thick, muscular legs against Riggins. Eventually, he just lashes out, jamming the sole of his boot into the face of the Canadian...] LVK: Ooof! Rembrandt with those kicks to the face, got out of the crab! RP: That's the shizzle... [Holding his nose, Riggins crumbles to the mat, blood noticeably beginning to seep through his fingers. Cradling his head, Rembrandt uses the ropes to pull himself back to his feet, but he doesn't see McIntyre on the far side of the ring, leaping up from the apron to the top rope, springboarding across...] LVK: McINTYRE!! [... and whipping him over with an arm-drag! HIGH-FLYING POP!!] LVK: SPRINGBOARD ARM DRAG!! RP: He's hurt his ankle! [But it's only a momentary burst of pain, McIntyre clutching at the ankle but quickly forgetting all about it as soon as he sees his opportunity slipping away. Before Rembrandt can get back up, he scrambles over to where he lies and pins the shoulder down with his right arm, pulling back in a wakigatame! POP!!] LVK: Fujiwara armbar! McIntyre with that submission hold applied! [McIntyre forces himself against Rembrandt, applying all his weight to the shoulder and wrenching the arm as hard and as far back as he possibly can. The killer grunts against the pain, groping for the ropes but finding nothing. He tries to power up on to his hands and knees, but McIntyre refuses to let him.] LVK: Rembrandt's gonna have to fight it! RP: What does the punk think he's doing? Does he think Rembrandt's gonna *tap*? LVK: McIntyre would like nothing better than to make Rembrandt tap out, aft- OH! [And Riggins dives in to break it up, blood pouring from his nose and covering his chin. He drops a forearm across the back of McIntyre, drags him up to his feet, and sends him sprawling into the bottom turnbuckle with a Roaring Elbow.] LVK: Riggins breaking up the wakigatame, going to work on McIntyre, now... [Pulling himself up to his feet, Rembrandt rotates his damaged shoulder a few times to get the blood flowing through his arm again, before stepping forward and unleashing a shin-kick that connects solidly with the back of Riggins' head and sends him tumbling through the ropes, on to the apron! PUNISHMENT POP!!] RP: Hot damn, Van Keel - did you see that? LVK: Rembrandt took out Riggins with the kick, and now all alone with McIntyre.. RP: Time to take this punkhead to school. [With McIntyre trapped in the corner, Rembrandt goes to work.] *SMACK!* *SMACK!* *THWACK!* *THWACK!* *THWACK!* *THWACK!* [PROTEST POP!!] RP: Holy moley! LVK: Good God - Rembrandt with a flurry of kicks to the head, the body-- RP: --and the face! McIntyre got a real mouthful of that Rembrandt boot leather! LVK: McIntyre trapped in that corner, no way out and no defence from Rembrandt.. [The Chicago native slumps over the bottom rope, with Rembrandt poised on the balls of his feet, readying another kick. Riggins, though, is back to his feet, the blood still spewing from his nostrils, and he jarrs the Ego MAX member with a stiff forearm, before dragging him through the ropes on to the apron...] LVK: Riggins' nose could be broken, it looks like - won't be the first time... RP: And Rembrandt'll happily break the rest of his face if the punk keeps trying to brawl with him, Van Keel... what in the hell does he think he's doing, here? [Riggins hammers away on the back of Rembrandt's head as he brings him through the ropes, before the killer from Kyoto bursts up to his full height and slams the heel of his palm into his mouth. The two men turn away from one another for a moment - Rembrandt cradling his head and Riggins holding the lower half of his face, before Rembrandt suddenly lashes out, whirling into a lightning uraken...] LVK: OH! RP: What the-?! LVK: Riggins ducked the backfist! Rembrandt up into the fireman's carry..! [The crowd pops huge, sensing a big manouevre on its way, but Rembrandt uses the momentum from his spin to slip off the shoulders, landing on the apron behind..] LVK: No! Riggins going for that Upper Cutt, Rembrandt got out of it... [And Riggins turns, where Rembrandt is waiting to drive his knee up into the bread basket. With Riggins bent double, Rembrandt jams him into a vertical headscissor, and snaps both arms into a double-underhook.. ANTICIPATION POP!] LVK: Waitaminute! Rembrandt setting him up--! RP: Whoa! [And Rembrandt lifts...] *THUD!!* *OOOOOOOOHHH!!* [MEAN-LOOKING BUMP POP!!] RP: SWEET MERCIFUL PETE!! LVK: OH MY GOD - REMBRANDT WITH A TIGER DRIVER OFF THE APRON!! RP: Jesus H. Christmas - we're gonna need a spatula out here for Riggins! LVK: Rosco Riggins may have been knocked out *cold*! [Riggins immediately rolls on to his side, holding the back of his head. Rembrandt makes the mistake of turning his back on the ring as he drags the Canadian to his feet, Eddie McIntyre slipping out on to the apron undetected. A quick glance behind him, and the youngster springs up to the middle rope...] *OOOOOOHHH!!* [MAJOR IMPRESSED POP!!] RP: ARGH! LVK: ASAI MOONSAULT!! McINTYRE TOOK OUT REMBRANDT *AND* RIGGINS!! [Absorbing most of the impact, Rembrandt slumps to the mat, only to be dragged right back up by McIntyre. Firing in a few shots to the face, Eddie backs his nemesis up against the apron, before rolling him back in under the bottom rope. Pulling himself up on to the apron, McIntyre slowly scales the ropes, and...] LVK: McIntyre going up top! *THUD!* [DISAPPOINTED POP!!] LVK: NOBODY HOME ON THE GUILLOTINE LEGDROP! RP: Way to go, punkhead! [McIntyre clutches at the ankle, and rolls on to his stomach. Rembrandt doesn't need to be told twice, pouncing on his opponent immediately... CROWD PANIC POP!] LVK: REVERSE ACHILLES TENDON HOLD APPLIED BY REMBRANDT!! RP: Sweet! LVK: REMBRANDT PUTTING ALL THE PRESSURE ON THAT INJURED ANKLE!! RP: McIntyre's gonna tap, Van Keel. This one is *over*! [And McIntyre thrashes about on the canvas, clutching at the back of his head, with Rembrandt forcing himself against his leg and Teddy Lancaster asking him if he wants to submit. With the pain tearing up his body from the ankle, McIntyre finds himself in the middle of the ring with absolutely nowhere to turn...] LVK: McIntyre is gonna have to dig deep, here... RP: Give it up, punkhead! Tap out-- LVK: AND RIGGINS INTO THE RING TO BREAK IT UP!! RP: Gawd dammit! [Holding the back of his head, blood staining his chin and chest, Riggins turns and brings Rembrandt up to his feet sharply, snatches him in a drop-down waistlock and hurls him up and over with a snap Northern Lights suplex! POP!!] *THUD!* LVK: BIG NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX ON REMBRANDT!! RP: Crap! [McIntyre hobbles up to his feet, where Riggins is waiting...] *THUD!* [POP!!] LVK: EXPLODER TO McINTYRE!! [And the young man from Chicago rolls under the bottom rope, as Rembrandt pops back up to his feet, aiming a wild roundhouse in Riggins' direction. However, the Edmonton native catches the movement out of the corner of his eye, ducks, and snatches Rembrandt in a rear waistlock, lifting him up, falling back...] *THUD!* [POP!!] RP: CRAP!! LVK: GERMAN SUPLEX!! RIGGINS IS A HOUSE AFIRE!! [Riggins holds on to the waistlock, bringing the Kyoto killer back to his feet. This time, though, he grabs the left wrist with his right hand, and the right wrist with his left. As McIntyre pulls himself up, Riggins yells and lifts...] *THUD!* [POP-O-RAMA, BABY!!] LVK: STRAITJACKET SUPLEX - GOOD LORD!! RP: Where the hell is he getting all this energy from, Van Keel?! LVK: RIGGINS WITH THE BRIDGE - HE MAY HAVE HIM, HERE!! ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [... and McIntyre leaps from the top rope...] *OOOOOOOOHHH!!* THR- NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [INTERRUPTION POP!!] RP: HOLY SCHNIKIES!! LVK: NO! McINTYRE WITH THE SENTON!! RP: What the hell was that?! LVK: McIntyre dropped right on to Riggins' exposed mid-section! RP: That moron's convinced himself *he* wants to try and pin Rembrandt! [Obviously favouring the injured ankle, McIntyre gets back to his feet. Riggins lies in a foetal position in the corner, clutching his stomach. Rembrandt, meanwhile, is already pulling himself back up, a hand pressed to the back of his neck. McIntyre stumbles around, but Rembrandt has a point to prove, now...] *THWACK!* [ANOTHER STIFFNESS POP!!] LVK: REMBRANDT WITH A KICK TO THE HEAD!! RP: Thanky - drive through, punkhead! [Knocked off balance, more than anything, McIntyre collapses over sideways, tumbling through the middle ropes and out on to the apron once again. Rembrandt, meanwhile, turns back to Riggins, dragging him into the center of the ring by the hair and viciously smashing his knee up into the already-bloodied nose...] LVK: Shot to the face! RP: Uh oh. These punks done pissed Remmy off, now... LVK: Rembrandt with the double-underhook - could be looking for a Tiger Driver.. [And he goes for the lift, but Riggins manages to block. Twisting out of the headscissor but keeping a firm grip on Rembrandt's right arm, Riggins slips neatly around the back and fluidly counters into the chickenwing! FINISHER POP!] RP: WHAT THE-?! LVK: CHECKMATE! CHECKMATE! RIGGINS WITH THAT CHICKENWING OUTTA NOWHERE!! [On the outside, McIntyre pulls himself back up, stumbling along the apron into the corner. Rembrandt, meanwhile, lashes out with his free arm, swinging it almost desperately in the hope of catching Riggins with his elbow, or something. When that fails to work, he grabs a handful of hair, and jerks forward...] LVK: REMBRANDT THROWING RIGGINS OFF-- NO!! [But Riggins tenaciously holds on off the shoulder throw, wrapping his legs around Rembrandt's head in a basic neck crank manoeuvre, to another huge pop from the Dallas crowd. The Kyoto killer, though, isn't about to be defeated, grabbing Riggins under the arms and straightening with an almighty effort...] *THUUD!!* [FEAT OF STRENGTH POP!!] RP: GREAT GOOGILY MOOGILY!! LVK: MY GOD - WHAT STRENGTH FROM REMBRANDT, COUNTERING INTO THE POWERBOMB!! RP: I told you, Van Keel: he's a *monster*! [Initially half-falling back into the corner with the exertion, Rembrandt looks across the ring and spies McIntyre, arriving at the top floor and eyeing the downed Riggins with a view to the spectacular. Deciding he ain't about to let that happen, Rembrandt stalks across the ring, shuffling his feet, and...] *OOOOOHH!!* [... connects with a kick to the inside of the ankle! VICIOUSNESS POP!!] LVK: Oh! Rembrandt with that kick, crotching McIntyre on the top turnbuckle! RP: Shades of 'Glory' there, Van Keel! [Rembrandt climbs to the middle rope, hooking Eddie in a facelock. As Riggins pulls himself up to his feet, Rembrandt steps up to the top, bringing Eddie up with him. Just as he lifts, though, Riggins rushes into the corner, pushing Rembrandt's feet out from under him and bringing both men crashing down! POP!] *OOOOOHH!!* LVK: And Riggins breaks it up! RP: For chrissakes! I hate this three-way crap! [Riggins steps up to the second rope, grabbing Rembrandt from behind, before heading up to the top. The flashbulbs pop as Riggins slowly drops backwards...] *THUD!!* [GIGANTIC POP!!] RP: AAARGH!! LVK: BELLY-TO-BACK SUPERPLEX BY RIGGINS!! [And McIntyre, struggling for breath, pushes himself up to his feet, wobbling slightly on the top rope. 60,000 fans in the Cotton Bowl cheer him on, and he glances around the arena, then down at Riggins and Rembrandt, prone. He leaps..] LVK: McINTYYYYRE--!! *THUUUD!!!* [SHOCKED POP!!] RP: HOLY MOTHER OF PERLE!! LVK: McINTYRE WENT FOR IT ALL WITH THE SHOOTING STAR - BUT REMBRANDT MOVED!! [Teddy Lancaster begins the count, the crowd roaring...] *ONE!* *TWO!* LVK: All three men are down, now - what a match we are seeing, here! RP: These three are giving it everything they've got, Van Keel! *THREE!* *FOUR!* [And shockingly, with the other two men just stirring... McIntyre kips up.] RP: The hell?! LVK: McIntyre to his feet, my God! Eddie McIntyre just caught his second wind! [Lancaster stops counting, as the crowd cheers its approval, and chants...] * ED - DIE!! ED - DIE!! ED - DIE!! * * ED - DIE!! ED - DIE!! ED - DIE!! * * ED - DIE!! ED - DIE!! ED - DIE!! * LVK: And listen to this crowd, now, chanting the name of Eddie McIntyre! RP: Cheering for *this* punkhead? Even for *Dallas*, that's low. [Initially grimacing at his ankle after the kip-up, McIntyre gets another surge of adrenaline upon hearing 60,000 voices booming out his name, pumping his fists and turning to where Rembrandt is just making it up to his feet. Eddie leaps...] *THWACK!* [POP!!] LVK: ENZIGUIRI!! McINTYRE NAILED REMBRANDT RIGHT IN THE BACK OF THE SKULL!! RP: ARGH!! [Rembrandt collapses, holding the back of his head. McIntyre is back up with surprising quickness, shaking his ankle in a little pain after connecting with the big kick. Spying Riggins pulling himself up, Eddie rushes over, leaps...] *THUD!!* [BIG-TIME POP!!] LVK: TORNADO DDT TO RIGGINS!! RP: I don't believe it! Since when did the punk become a fightin' machine?! LVK: McINTYRE TAKING IT UP A NOTCH, NOW!! [Getting to his feet, Eddie hobbles over to the nearest corner, and vaults up to the top rope with a turning leap. However, his ankle gives way beneath him, and he slips on to the apron. Unhurt, he scales the ropes again, and sails off...] *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *THUD!!!* [WAKE THE NEIGHBOURS POP!!!] RP: AAAARGH!! LVK: FROG SPLASH TO REMBRANDT!! McINTYRE HIT ALL OF THAT ONE!! [Bouncing into the air off the impact, McIntyre struggles up to his feet, holding his ribs, as Rembrandt rolls on to his stomach. Riggins, meanwhile, is rising groggily to his feet, and he swings a forearm drunkenly at McIntyre, telegraphing it big-time. Eddie catches it, jumps up and scissors the arm...] LVK: OOOH BOY!! [WORKRATE POP!!] RP: THE HELL WAS THAT? LVK: FLYING ARM SCISSORS!! GREAT MOVE BY McINTYRE - JUJIGATAME LOCKED IN!! [The crowd is roaring as Lancaster slides in to call the submission, Riggins desperately trying to block the devastating arm-breaker by linking his hands, money-grip style. McIntyre leans back with all his weight, but the technician Riggins isn't about to let him apply the hold properly, rolling to his side...] LVK: Riggins will have to submit if McIntyre locks this on! RP: He's fighting it, Van Keel! He's fighting it as if his life depended on it! [But McIntyre kicks out with his legs, knocking Riggins on to his back again. Frantically, he tries to link his hands as McIntyre hyper-extends the elbow, sending pain bursting up the left arm. Riggins reaches out with his leg but, failing to find the ropes, starts rolling his weight into McIntyre again...] LVK: Riggins trying to invert the pressure..! RP: He *has* to get out of it, Van Keel! This punk McIntyre can't win this! [And Riggins makes it to his feet. McIntyre kicks his legs again, but the former Challenger's Choice Champion is bent right over him and the counter has no effect. Linking his fists, Riggins roars with the effort as he hauls McIntyre into the air, still attached to his arm, and spins, before dropping him...] *THUD!* LVK: *Big* slam by Riggins breaks the hold! RP: Thank G-- [But Rick Perle doesn't get to finish that sentence, interrupted by...] *THWACK!!* [KNOCK-OUT BLOW POP!!!] RP: SWEET BUTTERY JESUS!! LVK: SUPERKICK!! REMBRANDT JUST UNCORKED THAT SUPERKICK ON ROSCO RIGGINS!! RP: Riggins just got his lights turned out, Van Keel!! [And Rembrandt drops into the cover...] ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEE?!?!?!?!?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [SHAKE THE FOUNDATIONS POP!!!] LVK: NO! NO! McINTYRE PULLED REMBRANDT OFF THE COVER!! RP: DAMN YOU, PUNKHEAD!! [McIntyre backs off, allowing Rembrandt to burst up to his feet. The crowd goes wild as the two lock stares, Rembrandt marching right up to the youngster and pressing his forehead down into his. A burning silence exists between them.] LVK: Oh boy - *this* is what it's all about, right here! Rembrandt and McIntyre! RP: Take him out, Remmy! Kick the punk's damn head off! LVK: What intensity! What hatred, between these two competitors! [With the two eye-to-eye, the crowd gasps in unison as Rembrandt backs down.] RP: [shocked] The hell is he thinking?! LVK: Rembrandt backing away from McIntyre! What does this me- [And again, Rembrandt interrupts. Everything gets sucked into a kind of vacuum, devoid of time or sound, as the Kyoto killer lashes out with another devastating superkick. However, things snap right back into real time as McIntyre gets his hands up, and catches the boot inches from his face. EAR-RATTLING FACE POP!!] RP: Oh f[meep!]k. LVK: McINTYRE CAUGHT IT!! MY GOD, HOW'S *THIS* FOR 'FEARFUL SYMMETRY'?! [You can almost see it in the faces of both men, as their minds flash back to that fateful moment in St. Louis. For a second, you could swear McIntyre smirks, as he cocks his head, eyes fixed on Rembrandt's. He pauses, reaches back...] *THUD!!!* [OH LORDY - YOU'D BETTER BELIEVE THAT'S THE FACE POP FROM HELL!!] RP: AAAAAAARRGH!!! LVK: DRAGON SCREW!! DRAGON SCREW!! McINTYRE'S GOT THIS THING WON!! ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [PREMATURE GARGANTUAN REVENGE POP!!!] LVK: YES! YES! RP: NO! LVK: YES!-- NO, WAITAMINUTE!! ONLY TWO!! RIGGINS INTERRUPTED THE COUNT!! [Riggins grabs McIntyre by the hair, scoops him into the fireman's carry...] LVK: RIGGINS SETTING HIM UP FOR 'THE UPPER CUTT'--!! [The crowd pops big in anticipation, but as Riggins swings Eddie into the three-quarter nelson, the young man from Chicago slips out of his grasp, landing on his feet. Snatching Riggins hands through his own legs, McIntyre lifts...] *THUD!!* [ARENA-SHAKING POP!!] LVK: JAPANESE OCEAN SUPLEX!! McINTYRE DROPPING RIGGINS RIGHT ON HIS HEAD!! [Riggins is sent rolling out under the bottom rope and into a heap at ringside, holding the back of his head. McIntyre pulls himself back to his feet, and staggers into the far corner. Seeing the Edmonton native lying prone outside the ring, McIntyre grabs the ropes and begins yet another climb to the top...] LVK: AND McINTYRE GOING TO THE TOP, NOW! RP: But you never, *ever* turn your back on Rembrandt!! [Oh, for sure. The killer from Kyoto rushes in from behind, taking McIntyre's injured left leg completely out from under him with a targeted Yakuza kick.] *OOOOOOHHH!!* LVK: MY GOD!! REMBRANDT FROM BEHIND, CROTCHING McINTYRE ON THE TOP TURNBUCKLE!! RP: Yes! [Rembrandt climbs to the middle rope again, but Eddie's not about to give this up without a fight - smashing his elbow roughly against Rembrandt's face, neck and shoulder. But it's just not enough, as the killer stuns him with two brutal headbutts, scoops him up in a fireman's carry... HUGE ANTICIPATION/PANIC POP!] LVK: REMBRAAAAAAAAAAANDT--!! [And they fall, and fall, and fall...] *THUUD!!!* [GIGANTIC SHOCKED PROTEST POP!!!] RP: HOLY SHIZNIT!! LVK: OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! REMBRANDT WITH THE DEATH VALLEY DRIVER, OFF THE TOP! ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [ENORMOUS HEEL POP!!] *DING! DING! DING!* RP: YES! YES! YES! LVK: REMBRANDT HAS WON IT!! [Slumped over the apron, Riggins simply collapses back to the mats as Rembrandt rolls on to his back with his fist in the air, 'Elite' screaming from the PA. Teddy Lancaster holds Rembrandt's wrist for a moment in a brief, symbolic gesture of victory, the crowd sounding their disapproval at the outcome...] LVK: Rembrandt the victor in this match - but my *God* that was close! RP: Doesn't make a difference, Van Keel - that's all that matters, right there! [Rolling out of the ring, Rembrandt simply paces back up the ramp, holding the back of his head. In the ring, Eddie McIntyre begins to show signs of life....] LVK: Neither Eddie McIntyre nor Rosco Riggins with anything to be ashamed of... all three competitors gave everything they had for us in this match tonight... [And as Rembrandt reaches the top of the stage, turning back to take a last look at the site of his victory, McIntyre pulls himself to his feet in the ring to a big appreciation pop from the Dallas crowd, almost as an act of defiance. Even some fifty yards apart, the two lock stares - certainly not for the last time.] LVK: Oh boy... you get the feeling we haven't seen the last of this rivalry... RP: Maybe *you* do, Van Keel. *I* get the feeling this punk McIntyre'll think twice before getting in the Kyoto killer's way again. Same for Riggins, too. [But in a very sportsmanlike gesture, the camera cuts to a close-up of the perspiration-soaked and slightly bloody Eddie McIntyre as he nods, as if acknowledging that the better man had won on the night. Cut to a shot of Rembrandt, who betrays no emotion... and disappears behind the curtain. Then cut back to Larry and Rick.] LVK: Wow, what a great match! RP: Especially since Rembrandt won! That's the first of many victories tonight for Ego MAX! LVK: We'll have to wait and see about that. We need to take a break - we'll be right back! [Fade out.] [As we fade in from a black screen, the opening piano chords of Van Halen's "Right Now" begin to play. The camera opens to a close-up shot of a pair of hands, onto which layers of tape are being slowly wound, around the fingers.] [The camera then pans out, and we see that the hands belong to Dan Kauffman. He seems lost in deep contemplation as he wraps the tape around his fingers slowly. The piano starts to speed up, then electric guitar joins the mix.] [Finished with the taping, Kauffman raises his head and looks not at the camera, but off into nothing, deep in thought, as Sammy Hagar's vocals join the song for the first time.] #Don't wanna wait 'til tomorrow# #Why put it off another day?# [Change now to rapid-fire shots of Kauffman walking the aisle towards the ring in RCW, from various different matches.] #One by one, little problems# #Build up, and stand in our way# [Getting to his feet, Kauffman turns and locks his eyes on a punching bag, hanging in the dank, dark gym in which he currently stands. The camera zooms in on those eyes, so full of thought, so focused.] #Ohhhh# #One step ahead, one step behind it# #Now ya gotta run to get even# [And suddenly action shots start to come and go - Kauffman and Luke Kinsey trying to nail each other with chairshots, their metallic weapons colliding together in mid-air; at the Birthday Bash card, Vic Morrison tries to hit Kauffman with a chair, but the referee stops it, and Kauffman sends Morrison over the top rope, winning the Anniversary Rumble.] #Make future plans I'll dream about yesterday, hey!# #Come on turn, turn this thing around# [In slow-motion, Kauffman sends Luke Kinsey crashing from the turnbuckles to the mat with a super Black Tiger Bomb during their epic match at Glory!] #(Right now) Hey! It's your tomorrow# #(Right now) Come on, it's everything# [Kauffman nails Devon Case with his Yashimoto DDT, moments before pinning him at the Glory pay-per-view; then a shot of him holding the National title belt into the air to a standing ovation.] #(Right now) Catch your magic moment# #Do it right here and now# #It means everything# [Kauffman drives Luke Kinsey into the mat with his trademark Powerplant spinning spinebuster] #Miss a beat, you lose a rhythm# #And nothin' falls into place. No!# [At No Limits, Kauffman and Luke Kinsey battle up a ladder, which is on a table, which is in turn on one of the ring's corners. Kinsey slams a title belt into Kauffman's head, sending him falling 15 feet through another table, the fall coming in slow-motion.] #Only missed by a fraction# #Slipped a little off your pace. Oh!# [A shot of Kauffman struggling up to his hands and knees in the ring, his face covered in sweat, and his eyes glazed with exhaustion; then Kauffman slumped in a corner, looking dejected and beaten. The clip slows to slow-motion as his eyes look around in desperation.] #The more things you get, the more you want# #Just trade in one for another# [Kauffman standing in the ring with the shiny gold National title belt, soaking up the cheers of the fans; then a look of disgust on his face as he looks at Miss Cherry holding it.] #Workin' so hard to make it easy# #Whoa, got to turn.# #Come on, turn this thing around# [Now we see the new World title belt in all it's glory; and cut to a shot of Kauffman looking very determined and focused again, looking off past the camera at some unseen target.] #(Right now) Hey, it's your tomorrow# #(Right now) Come on, it's everything# [In the first round of the World title tournament, Kauffman nails Stephens with the Yashimoto DDT, and gets the three count; then a shot of him having his arm raised in victory.] #(Right now) catch that magic moment# #Do it right here and now# #It means everything# [In a tagteam match, Kauffman gets the hot tag. He thunders into the ring and sends Luke Kinsey down with the Powerplant, and then floors Juan Vasquez with a running forearm shot.] #Said a lie to me# #Right now# [As the music slows back down and starts to get very dramatic, we see Kauffman standing in the ring, his head hanging low as he endures what has come to be known as the "Graveyard Promo".] #What are ya waitin' for? Oh! Yeah!# #Right now# [The camera pans up to the RiverTron to show Devon Case standing in said graveyard, during his infamous promo about Kauffman's dead wife and daughter. The camera freezes on Case's smiling, maniacal face, as the synthesizer music starts to gradually build up, until....] *Guitar Solo!* [But then as the guitar solo comes wailing in, Case's face explodes into a thousand shards of glass, and onto the screen come more rapid-fire images of Dan Kauffman in action! #(Right now) Hey! It's your tomorrow# #(Right now) Come on, it's everything# [Yet another shot of the deadly Yashimoto DDT, this time the victim is Juan Vasquez, back in December 2001; then we get a shot of Kauffman holding up the Gateway title.] #(Right now) Catch that magic moment# #And do it right, right now (Right now)# #Oh, right now!# [In the semifinal of the tournament, Kauffman locks Rembrandt in the Peacemaker, his sharpshooter-turned-bridged STF hold, causing Rembrandt to scream in pain and reach desperately for the ropes.] #It's what's happening# #Right here and now# [The music slows down again to just piano and bass, and we return to the dank, dark gym, where Dan Kauffman stands, his hands clenched together, and his eyes still staring off into space.] #Right now, it's right now# #Oh!# [With Sammy Hagar's vocals fading out, Kauffman turns, and the camera turns with him to show a single picture hanging on the gym wall. The smiling faces of his inspiration - his lost wife and child - looking back at him, Kauffman slowly nods his head, and we fade out completely.] [Fade to commercials] [We come back from the commercials to a sweeping shot of the Cotton Bowl crowd, who are all screaming, yelling and generally looking buzzed out of their brains. Then suddenly, the lights in the arena slowly begin fading...] [Fading...] [Fading...] [Blackness!] LVK: What on earth is this? [The building is engulfed in a cloud so dark that one can not see their own hand in front of their face - but through the darkness you hear noises. The sound of footprints scampering across concrete - the sound of countless keys clanking against the leg of someone as they walk - and the sound of a solid steel door creaking open. But above all that you hear the strains of Nine Inch Nails "Head Like A Hole" as it slowly fades into the sound system.] o/~ Bow down before the one you serve o/~ You're going to get what you deserve o/~ Bow down before the one you serve o/~ You're going to get what you deserve [A thick, heavy fog begins to pour out of the entrance tunnel as the music begins to pick up it’s pace. An eerie blue spotlight glows through the fog, as an intimidating outline makes its way down the tunnel. Raising his hands to the side of his head, the figure cracks his neck - as an image begins to sweep towards the front of the video wall. With a loud clank of steel on steel the words slam against the front of the screen - and the crowd explodes in a deafening HEEL POP~!. Those words ... ] ! ! ! E X C E S S I V E F O R C E ! ! ! RP: I guess Vanguard's coming out for the match he challenged for! [And in an instant a sharp blast of brilliant white light blinds the fans for a moment before the lights return to full power and "Excessive Force" Eric Vanguard stands in the tunnel - his trademark black nightstick held high for everyone to see. With a sneer of confidence on his unkempt chin, Vanguard starts to stalk heavily down the aisle and towards the ring, paying no attention to the dispariging remarks, or random fingers being thrown his way by the fans.] o/~ God money I'll do anything for you o/~ God money just tell me what you want me to o/~ God money nail me up against the wall o/~ God money don't want everything he wants it all o/~ No, you can't take it o/~ No, you can't take it o/~ No, you can't take that away from me o/~ No, you can't take it o/~ No, you can't take it o/~ No, you can't take that away from me [Picking up his pace to the beat of the music, the former prison guard breaks into a sprint towards the ring, his long black leather trenchcoat trailing behind him in the breeze. Glancing around at the shimmering flashbulbs he leaps from the apron up to the second rope and throws both hands in the air - drawing a few more loud and obscene comments from the crowd.] o/~ Head like a hole o/~ Black as your soul o/~ I'd rather die o/~ Than give you control o/~ Head like a hole o/~ Black as your soul o/~ I'd rather die o/~ Than give you control [Finally Vanguard places a foot on the top rope and steps up and over the ropes, tossing his nightstick to the canvas, as he drops towards the ground himself. With anger and frustration obvious in each and every stride Vanguard makes his way across the ring and begins to bounce off the strands repeatedly as the sound of his music fades to nothingness.] LVK: Eric Vanguard apparently still has no idea that Mr Fletcher and Madison J. Valentine struck a deal. He has no idea that Em Jiggy Vee might be his opponent! [Vanguard stands and waits, watching the rampway patiently. Then....] # Up in the hot tub, poppin bubb-ly # Rubbin your spot love, punish me # But it don't stop, watch the Pun get wicked # When I stick it even Luke be like "Don't stop, get it get it" [LOCK THE DOGGY IN THE BARN POP!!! Incubus' version of Big Pun's 'Still Not a Player' hollers over the PA, rockin' the arena. The fans leap to their feet and start pushing and shoving their way to the rail, about to have their world rocked, their roof raised, and their lives completed by the one... the only...] [Em.] [Jiggy.] [Vee.] [Eric Vanguard's mouth drops open, and he suddenly rushes over to the ropes, trying to figure out how this could be happening, his face growing redder and redder with rage by the second.] LVK: Look at Eric Vanguard! He can't believe it! # I don't wanna be a playa no more # I'm not a playa I just crush a lot # But Big Punisher still got what you're lookin for # Uptown baby, uptown # I don't wanna be a playa no more # I'm not a playa I just crush a lot # But you know Big Pun and Rocks still down by law # Who's down to crush a lot [Ten seconds pass, then twenty - Vanguard, all riled up by this development, becoming more frustrated with every one.] RP: Bah. I knew he wouldn't show. LVK: I'm pretty sure MJV is in Dallas, Rick. I spoke to him earlier this week... RP: Really? So did you ask him - how *is* life in the gutter? Ha! [Vanguard grabs the referee by the collar and shakes him, wanting to know what the hell is going on. The ref looks blank, holding up his hands, as the former RCW president shoves him away and turns to the ramp, grabbing the top rope with whitening knuckles. And then, the chant starts... as if he wasn't tense enough.] * EM - JAY - VEE!!! * * EM - JAY - VEE!!! * * EM - JAY - VEE!!! * RP: Chant all you want, ya' morons! MJV ain't showing! LVK: Clint Fletcher has ruled that this match *will* happen, *if* Val shows up.. RP: What a crock. He was fired for a reason! He should *never* be allowed back! LVK: Rick, you saw it just like I did - Valentine was *provoked* into-- HEY! RP: WHAT THE-?! [A shadowy figure busts out of the crowd, past the announce desk, and slides into the ring to a HUGE 'IT'S *ON*' POP!!. With the spotlights still flickering over the darkened arena and 'Still Not a Player' still blaring from the PA, the figure reaches back with the fire extinguisher he's carrying with him, and...] *CLOOOOOONG!!* [... blasts Vanguard in the back of the head with it!! Cue the lights!] LVK: VALENTINE!! VALENTINE!! RP: WHAT THE-?! LVK: MJV OUTTA THE CROWD! HE JUST HIT VANGUARD WITH THAT FIRE EXTINGUISHER! [Vanguard falls forward, not expecting a huge blow to the head from a fire extinguisher - of all things. Valentine immediately seizes his oppurtunity to take it to 'im by rasing the extinguisher for another crack at the head and neck of Eric Vanguard.] *CLOOOOOONG!!* LVK: Valentine is wasting no time in taking it to Eric Vanguard. RP: He's just delaying his inevitable death. LVK: If he keeps this up, he wont be experiencing death tonight, Rick. RP: Bah! [Vanguard, suffering the effects of the last extinguisher blow, falls forward onto his hands and knees. MJV, looking to keep up his riotous momentum, brings up the extinguisher and slams it down, base first, into the back of Eric Vanguard.] *CLOOOOOONG!!* RP: This is _sick_, Van Keel, just plain sick. Eric Vanguard is one of the most respected men in our company... He was a former president, for Christ's sake!! Valentine is a bum. A no good bum... who eats babies. LVK: ... ___ __ _________________________________________________________________ / __\ /__\ |___ \ / / / \// __) | NON-SANCTIONED LAST MAN STANDING MATCH! / /___ / _ \ / __/ \____/ \/ \_/ |_____| "Excessive Force" Eric Vanguard \ vs written \ Madison J. Valentine by \ Matt \____________________________________________________________________ [Vanguard's arms and legs give out on him after the third extinguisher shot and he falls forward to lie on the mat. Maddy V, sensing he may've done enough damage, downs the red tube of fire prevention and moves 'round to Vanguard's head to pull the former prison guard into a standing headscissors.] LVK: Valentine really is taking it to Vanguard. To be honest, I wouldn't have though it. Especially not with Val's ribs in the condition they are. RP: He's a punkhead. A baby eatin' punk head. Simple as- HOT DAMN! [Just as Val was about to pull Vanguard over in the piledriver MJV likes to call 'The Cream', the tough-ass prison guard reversed the move into a backbody drop, which lands MJ on the mat right on his back and ribs.] LVK: Val's ribs have gotta be taking some punishment there, Rick. [Val arches his back up in pain of the blow his ribs have just sustained, but it doesn't end there. Angered at the fact that Val got the upper hand on him, Vanguard springs up to a standing position and grabs the nearest weapon - Em Jig's fire extinguisher.] LVK: HE'S GOT THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!! RP: And he's not afraid to use it. [Standing over the pained MJV, Vanguard, without hesitation...] *CLOOOOOONG!!* [... slams the extinguisher into the chest of MJV, folding up the Ottawa-born wrestler in half. The crowd give Vanguard a piece of their mind as they see the former Tampa champ doubled over in pain.] LVK: Vanguard is laying a brutal assault onto MJ's ribs that I'm afraid he won't get up from. RP: He pro'lly will, the fool. [Vanguard tosses the extinguisher to one side and yanks Em Jiggy Vee up by his messy hair to a standing position. Valentine isn't standing for too long, though, as he is sent right back down to the mat with a smack by a stiff-ol' Eric Vanguard scoop powerslam.] RP: That's the spot. [Yes it is, Rick. MJV, once again, arches his back up in pain and claws at his knackered out ribs but, hey, that ain't stopping the man they call 'Exessive Force'. He just hoists up the young Canadian into a rather ironic Canadian backbreaker and, without pause for thought...] LVK: OH BOY!! [...runs Val, chestfirst, into the turnbuckle.] [HEEL POP!!] RP: No, sorry, _that's_ the spot. LVK: Eric Vanguard is working those injured, fractured or possibly broken ribs over, and I gotta admit he's doing it really very well, Rick. RP: And he's doing it well. Oh, so well. [Vanguard, without any hint of remorse, drops Mad Valentine to the mat and looks down at his fallen prey with a look of utter contempt. Val, meanwhile, just grabs at his hurtin' chest, trying to put an end to the pain. Vanguatd, unnerving in his intensity, lays a couple of sick kicks to the ribs of MJV before yanking up the Canadian and dropping his folded figure up on the top turnbuckle.] RP: HOLY SCHNIKIES!! LVK: What? RP: TOP TURNBUCKLE!! LVK: ... [Following MJV up, Vanguard locks on a front chancery which gets the crowd buzzing. Then, suddenly, outta nowhere Em Jiggy Vee pushes 'Excessive Force' from the top 'buckle to the mat.] [FACE POP!!] LVK: He's not down _just_ yet! RP: Bah!! [Vanguard, more outta shock than anything, stays down on his back on the mat for a while. Unsteady but vertical, Madison Val stands up on the turnbuckle staring down at the fallen mentalist. For the briefest second, it looks as though MJ is gonna fly off the top rope but, instead, Em Jiggy Vee, holding his ribs, drops down and begins to lay a few kicks to side and head of Eric Vanguard.] LVK: MJV is tearing into Vanguard, now. We just cannot write this man off, just yet. RP: Watch me. Watch me write this punkhead off. [Mad Val grabs a handful of Vanguard's dark hair and drags him to his feet. Straight away, Valentine whips him into the ropes and catches him on the rebound with a hangman's neckbreaker that leaves 'Excessive Force' lying on the mat, face down. FACE POP!!] RP: What is this? _What_ is this!? [Grabbing his extinguisher, Val hops up onto the top turnbuckle - the same one he dropped from a few moments ago. Pausing for a second, extinguisher in hand, Val suddenly leaps off the top 'buckle...] *CLOOOOONG!!* [... nailing the big man, elbow drop style, on the back of his head and neck. POP!!] *EM JAY VEE!! EM JAY VEE!! EM JAY VEE!! EM JAY VEE!! EM JAY VEE!! EM JAY VEE!!* LVK: Valentine just put his own body on the line to put Eric Vanguard down. RP: He can try and try again, he won't pull it off. [MJV rolls off Vanguard and the fire extinguisher clutching his injured ribs. It seems the move did him a little damage, too.] LVK: Valentine has gotta keep his ribs in check. They are his Achilles heel, and Vanguard could exploit them at any moment. [Val, a little slower than you'd expect, makes his way to his feet before yanking up 'Excessive Force' Eric Vanguard. Val locks the former RCW president into a standing headscissors...] RP: What is this punkhead doing? LVK: And, now, for the cream. [Pausing for merely a second, Val quickly hoists Vanguard over, nailing his head and neck with his patented piledriver, known as 'The Cream'. POP!!] LVK: Val managed to nail 'The Cream'! Despite the fact his ribs are damaged, Valentine is taking it to the head and neck of Vanguard! RP: The what? LVK: The Cream. RP: Sounds a bit weird to me. [Vanguard rolls around on the floor, clutching at his battered neck, while MJV pulls himself off the mat with the aid of the ropes. Madison J. Valentine moves toward a now kneeling Vanguard, ready to lay on another move, probably to Vanguard's head and neck. Before he can hit the move, though, Vanguard hits _the_ most painful shot in wrestling...] *OOOOOOOOFFF!!* LVK: OH BOY!! LOWBLOW!! RP: SUPERB!! [Valentine, the man usually doing this shot, grabs at his achin' nutsac and doubles over. Vanguard, meanwhile, slowly moves upward after his knee-jerk reaction shot to Val's balls. Making it to his feet, the tough ass Vanguard reaches his feet and moves toward Mad Valentine.] LVK: What has that madman got in store? RP: Something cool. [Vanguard grabs a dazed MJV and backs him into the corner. Staring intently into the Canadian's eyes, Vanguard breaks the stare with a couple of back elbow strikes to the face of Maddy V before yanking him out and nails a spinning front layout powerbomb, which sends the former prison guard's head right into the breadbasket. And, yes, that means the ribs.] LVK: Vanguard really is becoming unrelenting in his punishment of Valentine's ribs. RP: Yeah? So what? You were acting like a schoolgirl when Valentine was laying to Vanguard's prize bull-neck. [Val arches his back trying, somehow, to wring the pain outta his ribs. Referee Ray Quinn, kindly donated by Fletch, begins to count...] *ONE!!* *TWO!!* [...but Vanguard doesn't take kindly to this and shoves him down. HEEL POP!!] LVK: Now, that just isn't right. [Quinn gets straight back up to his feet and begins admonishing Vanguard, but 'Excessive Force' ignores him and, instead, grabs MJV before the tossing him outta the ring through the middle and top ropes to the mat. MJV, as you'd imagine, clatters to the floor, rad-doll style.] RP: This is the shizzy I likes to see. LVK: Sorry, what? [Vanguard swiftly follows Valentine outta the ring and top the floor. Taking one look at the downed Canuck, Vanguard dips a hand into his pocket and draws out some double-sided tape. Quickly, Vanguard wraps his fist in the tape before lifting the ring apron and dragging out a silver bucket full of glass shards. BLOODBATH POP!!] LVK: Oh, come on!? RP: No DQ, that's all I gotta say. [Vanguard dips his taped fist into the glistening glass and draws it out, before holding it up to the light for the Cotton Bowl crowd to see just what he's planning. Vanguard stalks over to Valentine and, without pause, pulls his hand back and...] *SMAAACK!!* *SMAAACK!!* *SMAAACK!!* *SMAAACK!!* RP: HOLY COW, THAT RULED!! [Without any pause for thought or remorse, Vanguard turns away from his fallen nemesis and starts to dip his fist back into the bucket. Val, however, springs to his feet, galvanised by the taste of his own blood and nails Vanguard with a forearm to the back of his head. FACE POP!!] RP: Oh crap. Why is he up? [Wasting no time at all, Val whips Vanguard toward the security railing...] *CLAAAAAAAANG!!* [... which Vanguard hits, back first. FACE POP!!] LVK: Valentine, despite taking a bloody beating to his face, is up and around. This man is tough, no doubt about it. RP: Bah. [Still geed up, Val charges at Vanguard, ready to do some damage. However, Vanguard is ready for it and the no-good possum playing prison guard backbody drops MJV up and over the guardrail! HEEL POP!! You can practically hear the sigh of Ray Quinn as he sees the match spill over the guardrail...] RP: HOT DAMN!! [Landing hard on the flooring, in amongst the fans, Valentine looks like he's been through the wars. Vanguard leaps the guardrail and disperses the fans from their fold down chairs, before grabbing a discarded chair and snapping it shut.] LVK: Now Valentine is in Vanguard's backyard. RP: He lives in Texas? [Looking down at his prey, chair in hand, only one thought fills Vanguards head - kill - which 'Excessive Force' does with aplomb.] *CLAAAAAAAANG!!* *CLAAAAAAAANG!!* *CLAAAAAAAANG!!* *CLAAAAAAAANG!!* [NO DQ POP!! After laying four chair shots to the back, sides and anywhere else of Madison J. Valentine, Vanguard tosses the chair to the floor before grabbing hold of MJV and dragging him through the crowd, up toward the back.] LVK: Vanguard is decimating Valentine, he really is. RP: And he rules. [Occasionally laying kicks and punches to the side of MJV, Vanguard keeps moving through the parting crowd. Eventually, the pair come across a railing that borders a small stairway up to a technician's mezzanine. The area is barred off from anyone except RCW emplyees, but I guess Vanguard is going to take a friend up there...] RP: SWEET MERCIFUL PETE! LVK: VALENTINE WAS JUST FLIPPED OVER THE GUARDRAIL BY A VANGUARD WHIP!! [Keeping his stalking up, Vanguard steps straight over the rail and grabs a handful of Valentine's messy _and_ cool hair to drag the former Tampa champeen up the stairs to the mezzanine.] LVK: What is Vanguard doing with him!? [Not resisting at all in an attempt to save his scalp, Valentine moves up the stairs to the technician's area, which is about 10 feet up from a smaller tech's area below. Once in the area, Vanguard deposits Valentine on the floor and foes in search of some toys to have some fun with. The first thing he comes across? Another steel chair.] LVK: Do something!! End this. [Grabbing the chair, Vanguard begins to move toward but an over-zealous Ray Quinn leaps in front of the mentalist prison guard, in an attempt to try and stop him.] LVK: HE'S JUST DOING HIS J- GOOD GOD!! RP: He was getting in the way. Simple as that. LVK: VANGUARD JUST NAILED RAY QUINN WITH A CHAIR!! THIS MAN IS OUTTA CONTROL!! [Quinn hits the deck like a sack of potatoes, while MJV is slumped over a desk trying to pull himself into life. Vanguard, not caring about the fact he just nailed an RCW referee with a chair, spins 'round and keeps on his unrelenting path towards Em Jiggy Vee.] LVK: When you see what this man can do to a referee, this does not bode well for Madison Valentine... *CLAAAAAAAANG!!* *CLAAAAAAAANG!!* *CLAAAAAAAANG!!* RP: You're right, it didn't bode well... But, hell, didn't it look good? [Grabbing the practically prone Valentine, Vanguard drags his ass to the railing at the edge of the mezzanine. Grabbing Em Jay Vee, Vanguard hoists him up in a press slam position, ready to dump Mad Val off the mezzanine onto the floor ten feet below. TENSION POP!!] LVK: He can't do that... He just can't- VALENTINE!! [Outta nowhere, Valentine wriggles outta Vanguard's grasp and drops to the floor behind 'Excessive Force'. FACE POP!!] RP: WHA-!? [Quickly steadying himself, Valentine rears back and...] *SMAAAAACK!!* *THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!!* [... nails Vanguard with his superkick, 'The Silver Bullet', which sends Eric Vanguard falling from the mezzanine onto the flooring below. BIG GUTSY FACE POP!!] LVK: I do not know how Valentine pulled that off, but something inside me tells me I should be glad. [Valentine, up on the camera deck, is folded over a desk, clutching his ribs. Slowly, he pulls himself up to his feet to some serious crowd reaction. He hobbles over to the railing to look down to the floor where Vanguard is. Looking down, Valentine sees that Vanguard has pulled himself up onto a technician's desk, but faltered for the moment. This is all the invitation that Valentine needs.] LVK: What is he planning?? RP: Something awful, probably. [Valentine drags himself up onto the rail, steadying himself as he goes. Once in a suitable position, he looks down to check Vanguard is the same position he was originally. He is. Valentine clutches at his buggered ribs, thinking for a second, but, all of sudden, he throws himself off the mezzanine...] *SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!!* LVK: OH MY GOD!! VALENTINE JUST NAILED HIS 'AIR VALENTINE' SENTON BACKSPLASH, THE MOVE HE DECIDED AGAINST USING EARLIER ON, FROM 10 FEET ABOVE ERIC VANGUARD!! *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 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 HO-LY SHIT* RP: That cheap-ass S.O.B. [Both men are down and out from this one, but referee Ray Quinn is still down, 10 feet above the pair. But the crowd start counting, instead.] *ONE!!* *TWO!!* *THREE!!* [Slowy, the air begin to stir...] *FOUR!!* [A hand is seen, clutching at the remnants of the table the pair went through.] *FIVE!!* LVK: VALENTINE IS MAKING HIS WAY TO HIS KNEES. *SIX!!* RP: HOW IS HE DOING THIS!? *SEVEN!!* *EIGHT!!* LVK: VALENTINE IS ON HIS FEET!! HE COULD HAVE THIS WON!! *NINE!!* [The crowd keep chanting, hoping their calls can win this for MJV...] *TEN!!* LVK: MJV HAS WON!! RP: NO HE HASN'T, YOU STUPID-ASS!! THAT PUNKHEAD, QUINN, IS STILL SAT ON HIS ASS!! LVK: Oh. My bad. [Valentine, realising this, grabs the big guy and begins to draw him under the mezzanine, back through to the backstage area.] RP: I love the backstage area, for some reason. [As the pair enter the contrete domain, Em Jiggy Vee drops Eric Vanguard and goes in search of something to fuck him up with. Finding a chair stacked beside some flight cases, Val snaps it shut and charges at Vanguard...] *CLAAAAAAAAAAANG!!* LVK: CHAIR-FIRST LARIAT BY MJV!! AN UNCHARACTERISTIC MOVE, BUT DESPERATE TIMES!! RP: What a punkhead. [Vanguard, sent sprawling by the MJV lariat, has no time to pull himself to his feet or work out where his mental head may be at because Mad Val keeps on coming toward the former RCW prez.] *CLAAAAAAAAAAANG!!* RP: WHAT IS THIS!! LVK: Val is unrelenting in his pursuit of Vanguard. [Suddenly, the chair falls by Val's side as he begins to hold his injured ribs. While Valentine is distracted, Vanguard crwals away from his nemesis, toward a flight case. Reaching under the flight case Vanguard drags out a little suprise...] LVK: CROWBAR!! VANGUARD HAS GOT THE CROWBAR HE USED TO DESTROY ETHAN ANDREWS' CAR!! RP: HOLY COW!! [Val, not knowing about the impending crowbar, pulls himself together and moves toward Eric Vanguard. Raising the chair ready to strike, Val does not expect what happens next...] LVK: KICK TO THE GUT!! VALENTINE DROPPED THE CHAIR!! [The chair clatters to the floor as Vanguard brings the crowbar up and...] *OOOOOOOOFFFFFF* [...brings it down across Val's back. HEEL POP!!] *OOOOOOOOFFFFFF* [And then he brings it down into a rolled-over MJ's ribs.] *OOOOOOOOFFFFFF* [And another rib shot with, basically, a solid iron bar.] LVK: This is sick... It certainly isn't wrestling... RP: Yes it is. And it's the best kind, too. [Valentine begins to crawl away from his torturer, toward a massive doorway, complete with roll down shutter. Strangely, for Eric Vanguard, he is allowed to keep moving... That is until he is halfway in and halfway out of the door way.] LVK: Vanguard is being... merciful? [Suddenly, as quick as a flash, Vanguard lashes out toward the wall with the crowbar...] *SSSHHHHHHHHHHHHH-TCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKK-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOFFF!!* [... sending the roll-down shutter down, right onto the chest of Madison J. Valentine. HEEL POP!!] RP: SWEET BUTTERY JESUS!! LVK: SICK!! [From around the corner stumbles Ray Quinn, who promptly initiates the inevitable count.] *ONE!!* *TWO!!* *THREE!!* *FOUR!!* *FIVE!!* *SIX!!* *SEVEN!!* *EIGHT!!* *NINE!!* *TEN!!* LVK: VANGUARD!! VANGUARD HAS WON THIS... WITH THE AID OF A DOOR!! RP: A win is a win, Van Keel. And I heard you love it. [Vanguard turns away from the scene not caring whether or not he's won or lost. Val, on the other hand, begins coughing up blood from his possibly broken ribs as EMTs and his friend Eddie McIntyre rush from the other side of the door.] LVK: McIntyre is here! [The door is quickly rolled up as the EMTs and Mad's friend attend to the injured Canadian.] LVK: What a sick scene this is. Eric Vanguard has won this match, but I would be hesitant to say that the war between these two men is over! RP: Of course it's over! MJV was allowed back for one match, and he lost! Now he's gone from RCW forever! LVK: That's a good point. [The camera cuts back to the crowd briefly, and then to Rick and Larry.] LVK: That sure was a wild brawl. Well, it's now time for our next match, a *sanctioned* match.... [Cut to David Stokes.] DS: The following contest is for the Challenger's Choice Title! [Filled to the very brim with adrenaline-addled intensity, the wave of ear-piercing distortion now flowing through the PA then suddenly morphs into the hateful grind of Nuclear Assault's "Something Wicked". In turn, the seething intro music heralds the arrival of the ripped 6'4", 280-plus pound 'Era of Defiance'. His long grey locks tied into a tight ponytail, the goateed Whitecross, bedecked in a sleeveless KSGA t-shirt, black denim jeans and sturdy white boots, stalks down the aisle with savage intent ... However, this time he does not come alone...] RP: Who the hell? [... Towering over Gabriel there follows a 6'10" entity who amazingly dwarfs Whitecross in the muscularity stakes. He is shaven of head, steely of glare and is sporting the shredded remnants of a Hollywell Lane Wrestling Association T-shirt that bears the title "BRUTAL DELUXE" across the lower abdomen.] DS: Introducing first..... The "ERA OF DEFIANCE" GAAAAAAAAABRIEL WHIIIIIIIIIIIIITECROOOOOOOOSS!!!! LVK: I'm not really sure *who* that is, Rick. RP: Come on...you're a friggin' idiot savant that remembers Juan Vasquez falling on his face doing some springboard hurrica-plancha move five years ago, but you can't put a name on that face? LVK: Well...I guess he's called Brutal Deluxe and he was from the now defunct HLWA. RP: How can you tell? Actually...how'd you pull that information outta' your ass? LVK: Errr...it was on his shirt. RP: ...... [Leaving his behemoth ally at the ring apron, Whitecross slides under the bottom strand and readies himself for the upcoming test of wills.] [Boiler Room's "Superficial" plays as the current CCT Champion, Tommy Stephens, strolls out with his title held up high. Stephens wears his usual wrestling gear of black & purple striped tights, black boots, and an EGO Max T-shirt. Behind him are his trusting troops, the Mysterious Suited Guy and his manager - and reporter - Goku Van Keel. The crowd gives the trios a good round of boos, which gets Stephens to stop in his tracks right in front of the ring and complains to his manager. Waru tries to calm his charge down... and also slips Stephens something that he not-so-slickly sticks in his tights.] DS: And his opponent, the reigning Challenger's Choice champion.... TOOOOOOOOMMY STEEEEEEEEEEPHENSS!!! LVK: There's the Challenger's Choice champion, Tommy Stephens, looking as cocky as ever. RP: Hey, he's fighting old man Whitecross here! I mean, if that Goblin Lad Shinobi couldn't beat hi-... LVK: That's Demon Boy Ishrinku, Rick. RP: Whatever. *SHE'S MY CHERRY PIE!* [BIG ASS HEEL POP!!] RP: Woohoo! LVK: What does she want? RP: Probably to wish Tommy good luck. [As "Bitch" by Sevendust plays, RCW President Miss Cherry, dressed in her usual formal dress suit and glasses, with her blonde hair tied up, emerges from the entranceway, and begins to make her way down the aisle. Walking a couple of steps in front of her is her bodyguard, Cole Druggan, all showered and cleaned up after his win over Tripp Shade earlier in the show. He's also carrying a large wooden box in both arms. Gabriel Whitecross and his hulking friend look a bit pissed off by all of this, but not Tommy. He claps and applauds the entrance of his boss, ever the brown-noser.] RP: She must be happy - already Ego MAX has two wins tonight, and Tommy's about to make that three, and Juan will make it four! LVK: What on earth is Cole Druggan carrying? RP: Maybe it's the coffin they'll bury Gabriel Whitecross in after this match! LVK: Rick, for one, it's too small, and secondly...shut up! [Miss Cherry steps into the ring, the ropes being held open by the broadly-smiling Tommy Stephens, and all of the Ego MAX entourage climb in. Miss Cherry calls for a microphone, and the boos and music dies down.] MC: Fans, let's take a moment to reflect on the greatest Challenger's Choice champion RCW has ever seen....Tommy Stephens. [Boo! Tommy steps forward, trying to tell his boss that it's the "Champion's Champion title", but she ignores him and continues. Because she's a bitch you know.] MC: As of today, Tommy has held that title for more than 150 days. That's nearly half a year! But as I look back on Tommy's impressive title run, I just have to think to myself one thing. Is it *really* that impressive to tell people that you're the most successful Challenger's Choice champion in RCW history? [Boo!] MC: No, it's not. [Tommy looks shocked and a bit hurt. He looks to Goku Waru for consolation, and the miniscule Asian man pats him on the shoulder reassuringly.] MC: It's not impressive at all. What I am saying, to make it clear for all you tobacco-chewing, cousin-marrying Texans.... [CHEAP HEAT HEEL POP!] MC: ....is that Tommy Stephens deserves a legacy that is more than just the greatest Challenger's Choice champion. By God, Tommy Stephens is a member of Ego MAX, and by virtue of that alone, he should be remembered as nothing short of a legend! [Boo! Tommy's looking a bit happier now though, as he listens to the compliments.] MC: That is why, as of this moment, I am *discontinuing* the Challenger's Choice title! [Confusion pop!] RP: What? But what the title's history! What about all the great men who've fought for it! The Big Chill, Jesse Ewiak, Damon Knight! Oh, wait...they suck. MC: I am *discontinuing* it, and replacing it with a title which is worthy of being worn around the waist of a man of Tommy Stephens' stature. A man who shines each and every time he steps into a wrestling ring. Who stands out above all of his opponents every time he is on television. [Boo!] MC: That is why, as of right now, I am replacing *that* disgusting excuse for a title [points to Tommy's belt] with a brand new one. As of right now, Tommy Stephens, you are the *first ever*.... RCW World Television Champion! [Something of a mixed pop for that. Cole Druggan steps forward and opens up the box he's been holding the whole time, revealing a shiny gold title belt! Tommy looks down at his CCT belt, and then simply drops it to the mat, rushing forward to get hold of his new prize!] LVK: Couldn't this have been done earlier, or backstage? We've got a match waiting to happen! RP: Oh shush Van Keel. This is a monumental moment. I'm all teary. [Tommy takes the belt, which is much more grand than his old one, and proudly holds it in front of him. He then thrusts it into the air, to a round of boos. Miss Cherry shakes his hand, and then she and Cole Druggan make to leave, as "Bitch" starts to play again.] LVK: Thank God she's leaving. Now finally this match can start! All of this pagentry, and for all we know, this could Tommy Stephens' only match as the champion of that nice new belt. RP: No way! It's the start of another long title reign. Long live Tommy Stephens! [Begrudgingly, Stephens gives up the belt to the referee, as the rest of his entourage make their way to ringside.] ___ __ _________________________________________________________________ / __\ /__\ |___ \ / / / \// __) | World Television Championship! / /___ / _ \ / __/ \____/ \/ \_/ |_____| Tommy Stephens (c) \ vs written \ "Era of Defiance" Gabriel Whitecross by \ Terry \____________________________________________________________________ *DING DING DING* [Tommy and Whitecross begin to circle each other in the ring. Well...Whitecross, anyway. Tommy seems to be fidgeting with something in his corner. Referee Marc Gioffre taps him on the shoulder, questioning him.] RP: Stop harassing him, Gioffre! LVK: I thought I saw Goku Waru hand Stephens something...maybe that's it in his tights? [A loud groan can be heard from the crowd as the Rivertron focuses on...*ahem* Tommy's crotch. A rather large bulge can be seen beneath his tights. Marc Gioffre points to the "bulge" and immediately gets into an argument with Stephens, who waves him off, replying with a loud, "It's _ALL_ me!" Notice the loud shriek from the suddenly interested female portion of the crowd.] LVK: Oh, for crying outloud...that's ridiculous. RP: Stop trying to mock Tommy's manliness! Stop being so damn insecure! LVK: ....... [And since he doesn't want anything to do with having his hand and Tommy Stephen's crotch anywhere near each other, Gioffre stands back and signals for the two combatants to begin the match. The two approach and Whitecross quickly spins behind Stephens, grabbing him in a waistlock. He tries to power him up, but Stephens blocks it. He nails him with a few back elbows, breaking the hold and driving Whitecross into the corner. Tommy then...] Crowd: *GROAN* LVK: Just what the hell does he think he's doing? RP: Will you stop focusing your attention on his crotch and call the damn match!? [...reaches into his tights, pulling out a palm-sized stone! He shoves Marc Gioffre out of the way and swings with all his might at the former world champion...] [HUGE FACE POP!!!] LVK: Stephens tried to smash Gabriel Whitecross' head in with that stone, but Whitecross blocks it! RP: Ahhh damnit! LVK: You had to expect this! Tommy Stephens is one of the dirtiest grapplers in RCW! RP: Blasphemy! [With Whitecross holding a firm grip on Stephen's wrist, the newly crowned Television champion's eyes grow wide as a sinister grin appears on the Englishman's face. His face hardens a bit, as Tommy releases the stone from his hand and suddenly drops to his knees in agony. Pop!] LVK: Look at the strength of Gabriel Whitecross! He's brought Tommy Stephens to his knees! RP: Bullshirt! He's using his steroid-induced powers to kill Tommy! [With a yank, Whitecross pulls Stephens back up to his feet and clinches him into a waistlock. He then lifts Tommy into the air, pivoting 180 degrees and SLAMMING him into the canvas with a belly-to-belly suplex! Face pop!] LVK: What power! He damn-near put Stephens through the ring with that suplex! RP: Come on, Tommy! Walk it off! [Holding the small of his back, Stephens gets back to his feet, only to be quickly taken down by a clothesline! He gets up once more, only to stagger into the arms of Whitecross, who easily lifts him over his head!] RP: Oh crap... [Whitecross holds Tommy there for but a moment and finally lets him drop, catching him on his shoulder...] ______TTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDD!!!!______ [HUGE POP!] RP: HOLY SHIZNITS!!! LVK: Gorilla press into a powerslam!!! Stephens got spiked! ONE!!! TWO!!! KICKOUT!!! [Heel pop!] LVK: Stephens is more resiliant than I gave him credit for! I would've thought that would've been enough to put him away. RP: Why is it surprising!? This is the man that destroyed Rosco Riggins five thousand times! The man that survived Juan Vasquez's soup cans! The man that weathered the awesome assault of the Big Chill! Errr... LVK: Rick...shut up. [Stephens rolls out of the ring to gain a quick rest, but Whitecross quickly gives chase. Tommy spots him and suddenly makes a full sprint around the ring, sliding back in quickly as Whitecross closely follows. However, this leaves the "Era of Defiance" open to a quick flurry of stomps from Mark Langseth's former protege! Heel pop!] LVK: Disgusting. Is this the only way Tommy Stephens will ever gain an advantage? Through cheap shots? RP: Cheap shots? CHEAP SHOTS??? That's brilliant in-ring strategy, Larry! [Slowing Whitecross for the moment, Stephens backs up and allows Gabriel to get to his knees, before taking him down with a dropkick to the side of the ribs. He follows it up with...a blank stare. Heel pop!] RP: Yeah! There ya' go, Tommy! Keep at him! LVK: I don't know about you, Rick...but does it seem like Tommy Stephens doesn't have any idea what he's doing? RP: What're you talking about!? He's putting that brilliant mind to work! [Stephens pulls Whitecross to his feet, looking a bit unsure of himself. He drills Whitecross with a quick kneelift to the midsection, doubling him over. He whips the man from Oxfordshire towards the corner and runs to the adjacent ropes. As Whitecross bounces out, Tommy times it perfectly...] ______TTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDD!!!!______ [HEEL POP!] RP: BLING BLING, MOFO'!!! LVK: Running bulldog by Stephens! Whitecross hits hard! [Not wasting a single moment, Stephens pops back up and runs towards the ropes again. He rebounds off and launches himself into the air, hitting Whitecross...back against back. Heel pop!] LVK: Senton to Whitecross' exposed back! The pain's got to be excruciating! RP: He's softening him up for the most devastating submission hold in wrestling today! LVK: Oh God, not that again... RP: Yes! *That* again! The camel clutch! [Tommy gets back to his feet and runs into the ropes once more, again crashing down on Gabriel Whitecross with another senton! Whitecross rolls onto his back, arching in pronounced pain. Stephens stomps him back down with a well-placed stomp to the midsection, keep his foot on Whitecross' chest and pointing to his temple as the crowd boos.] RP: Yeah, Tommy! You're a certifiable wrestling genius! LVK: Give me a break. [Stephens pulls a hurting Whitecross to the middle of the ring and executes a quick legdrop to keep him down. He runs towards the corner and climbs to the top turnbuckle, holding his arms out towards the crowd and giving a big thumbs up, before readying himself. He leaps...] ______TTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDD!!!!______ [HUGE POP!] RP: D'OH!!! LVK: Stephens went for it all with that top-rope senton, but Gabriel Whitecross moved out of the way at the last second! RP: Damnit, stay dead you damn Englishman! [Stephens holds his back in pain, as Whitecross immediately pulls him up by the hair. He whips Stephens hard into the corner, causing the Ego MAX member to bounce out, only to find himself whip just as hard into the opposite corner. Whitecross whips him hard into the corner one last time, this time, causing Stephens to hit the corner chest-first. He stumbles backward into a forearm shot to the kidneys. Whitecross then grabs him into a waistlock, elicting a mild cheer from the crowd.] LVK: A series of whips into the corner with authority by Gabriel Whitecross and now he's got Tommy Stephens set-up for... RP: Oh crap... [...] ______TTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDD!!!!______ [FACE POP!] LVK: German suplex by Whitecross, but he's holding on! RP: Goddamnit, kick him in the groin! Elbow him upside the head! Do something, Tommy! [Whitecross pulls up Stephens and goes for another...] ______TTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDD!!!!______ [FACE POP!] RP: Oh damn...he's still got him. LVK: Whitecross has no signs of letting go. He's going for another one! ______TTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDD!!!!______ Crowd: OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! [HUGE POP!] RP: GREAT GOOGILY MOOGILY!!! HE DROPPED TOMMY ON HIS HEAD!!! LVK: A _MASSIVE_ RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX BY GABRIEL WHITECROSS!!! [Whitecross immediately drops down for a pin.] LVK: And the cover! RP: Kickout, Tommy! ONE!!! TWO!!! THR...KICKOUT!!! [Heel pop!] RP: That's right! That's right! Ain't no punkass like Whitecross going to hold Tommy down! LVK: That was mighty close to three. Stephens is showing us something here, aside from his usual cowardice. RP: Shut yer hole, Larry! This is the champion's choice of champions! Give him the proper respect he deserves! [With the crowd fully behind him, Gabriel Whitecross pulls his adversary back to his feet, nailing Tommy Stephens with a kneelift to the gut. He grabs Stephens, trying to scoop him up for a tombstone piledriver. However, just as he has him in position, the champion begins to flail his legs.] LVK: Whitecross going for his trademark split-legged tombstone, but Tommy Stephens is fighting it! RP: Who wouldn't!? You think he's just going to let that punkhead break his damn neck? LVK: Whitecross is losing his grip... [Stephens manages to loosen Whitecross' grip just enough to land back on his feet. Displaying power that up until now, we've assumed that he just didn't have, Tommy muscles Whitecross up for a tombstone! Heel pop!] LVK: He reversed it! Tommy Stephens has Gabriel Whitecross set-up... RP: Oh lordy, hallelujah! ______TTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDD!!!!______ Crowd: OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! [HUGE POP!] RP: SWEET SASSY MOLASSY!!! LVK: TOMBSTONE...and the pin!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THR...KICKOUT!!! [Face pop!] LVK: NO!! Whitecross still has some fight left in him! RP: Slow count! Damnit, Gioffre, do your damn job right! [Stephens argues the count with Marc Gioffre briefly, before pressing his advantage. He picks up Whitecross and slings him towards the ropes. However, Whitecross quickly reverses the whip. He propels Stephens into the air in a flapjack...] LVK: Whip...reversed...he's going for Damnation... RP: Crap... ______TTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDD!!!!______ Crowd: OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! [HUGE HEEL POP!!!] RP: GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST!!! Whatta' counter!! LVK: Tommy Stephens counters with a DDT in mid-air!!! RP: That's gotta' be it! ONE!!! TWO!!! THR...SHOULDER UP!!! [HUGE FACE POP!] LVK: NO!!! Whitecross fights on! RP: Damnit, give it up, old man! Stephens is the wave of the future...you're nothing! NOTHING!!! [With a look of disbelief on his face, Tommy Stephens slams his fists on the canvas, not quite believing that Gabriel Whitecross was able to slip his shoulder up. He backs up, waiting for Whitecross to get to his knees. At that moment, he runs towards his opponent...] LVK: Another senton to the back! Tommy Stephens' trying to break Gabriel Whitecross' spine! RP: You go, boy! LVK: .... [Stephens drags Whitecross up by the hair, placing him onto the top turnbuckle. He climbs up to the second rope and punches away at a dazed Whitecross, who doesn't give much resistance to the blows. Stephens sets him up...] LVK: Gabriel Whitecross hasn't been the same since taking that tombstone piledriver a few minutes ago and it looks like things are about to get worse... RP: Do it! Break that bearded freak's goddamned back! LVK: He lifts... ______TTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDD!!!!______ Crowd: OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! [HUGE HEEL POP!!!] LVK: SUPERPLEX!!! RP: Hot damn! LVK: But...what's Stephens doing? [Tommy gets to his feet, slightly stunned from the impact of the move. He weakly raises his arm in triumph as the boos fill the arena. He quickly moves over to Whitecross, nailing a quick stomp to the back, before straddling the Englishman's back...] LVK: Of all the stupid... RP: YES!!! YES!!! CAMEL CLUTCH, BABY!!! [That's right...the camel clutch! Heel pop!] LVK: And for probably the first time ever, Tommy Stephens is using the move...*correctly!* RP: Tap, ya' limey bastard...TAP!!! [Stephens hold on Whitecross isn't exactly complete, as the camel clutch for the most part, is applied sloppily. However, the pain etched in on Gabriel Whitecross' face shows exactly how painful the hold is, nevertheless.] LVK: Stephens was concentrating his attacks to Whitecross' back and neck and it all came down to this! Can Whitecross break the hold? RP: Hell no. He's five seconds away from passing out like a little Nancy boy! [Refusing Marc Gioffre's offers to stop the match, Whitecross manages to get his knees under him...] LVK: Wait, he's starting to make his move... RP: No! [With a burst of strength, Whitecross manages to get to one foot. The crowd begins to cheer as Whitecross gets closer and closer to breaking the hold.] LVK: Gabriel Whitecross simply refuses to quit! [Finally, Whitecross gets back to a vertical base with Stephens still hanging from his back! Despite having his hold broken, Tommy still holds onto his chinlock, shaking his head... refusing to release his grip. Whitecross braces himself and charges backward, smashing Stephens into the corner! Face pop!] RP: Son of a bitch! LVK: He broke it! [With the wind knocked out of him, Stephens still charges out, hoping to catch a dazed Whitecross with a clothesline, only to be taken down by a swift legsweep! Stubborn as ever, Stephens quickly pops back up and gets his legs cut out from under him with a clip to the back of the knee! Bloodthirsty face pop!] LVK: Gabriel Whitecross is on fire! He's softening Tommy Stephens up for the Family Name! RP: That's not it! No...no! It's Tommy's brilliant plan to lure him into a false sense of security! LVK: Whatever you say, Rick...whatever you say. [Whitecross picks Stephens up and takes him down with a quick Dragonscrew legwhip, causing Stephens to hold his knee in pain! Face pop!] RP: Yeah...a false sense of security. [Whitecross pulls up the Television champion, whipping him towards the corner. He follows in with a clothesline and grabs Stephens by the throat as he staggers out. Huge anticipation pop!] LVK: Look at the expression on Tommy Stephens' face! Gabriel Whitecross' got him dead to rites! RP: Holy f'in crap... [With a bellow, Whitecross powers Tommy up...] ______TTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDD!!!!______ [HUGE FACE POP!!!] LVK: SPINNING CHOKESLAM!!! RP: DAMNIT!!! [POP!!!] LVK: He's going for it! He's going for the Family Name!!! RP: NO!!! [However. just then...] [HEEL POP!] RP: Thank God! [MSG leaps onto the apron, drawing away the attention of Marc Gioffre! Whitecross breaks his hold, yelling at MSG. Brutal Deluxe makes his way towards MSG, pulling him off the apron. Pop! However, no one notices Goku Waru sliding something into Tommy Stephens' hands...] LVK: What the hell! Goku Waru just slipped Stephens something... RP: Huh? Whatta' you talking about Van Keel!? [Whitecross turns his attention back to Stephens...] ______SMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!______ [HUGE HEEL POP!] LVK: IT WAS A ROLL OF COINS!!! DAMN HIM!!! RP: Wow...the power of Tommy Stephens' punch caused the sudden outburst of coins to spring forth from his fist! [Coins go everywhere, all over the mat and bouncing from the ring, as Whitecross immediately hits the deck, out cold from the shot.] RP: Here's the cover by Tommy! *DING DING DING!!!* RP: What the-? LVK: Marc Gioffre called for the bell! There was no way he was going to count the pinfall after Tommy Stephens nailed Gabriel Whitecross with a handful of coins! RP: BAH! How did he see it? LVK: There are coins all over the place! How could he miss it? [Tommy climbs off of Whitecross, looking a little bit bewildered by events. Marc Gioffre rolls away and consults with David Stokes, before returning to Whitecross, and raising his arm!] DS: Your winner.....by disqualification.... "ERA OF DEFIANCE" GABRIEL WHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITECROOOOOOSS!!! [Big mixed pop, some people rejoicing, but some being pissed off at the screwjob ending.] LVK: Gabriel Whitecross wins the match, but not the title! RP: Ah-ha! That was Tommy's plan all along! LVK: No Rick, I think he planned on cheating to win, not lose. RP: Eh, it's all the same. Tommy Stephens is still the champ! [Brutal Deluxe is now in the ring attending to his fallen friend, while Tommy is handed his World TV title belt by Goku Waru, and he mounts a corner, holding it into the air triumphantly. HEEL POP!!!] LVK: Fans, we need to take a short break, we'll be right back! [Cut to commercials/RCW promos.] [Reopen on a shot of the crowd, then straight to Rick and Larry.] LVK: Ladies and gentlemen, up next... [checks format sheet] ... oh boy. RP: Whoop whoop! LVK: Up next, fans, very simply... the Demon's.. Dozen.. Deathmatch. RP: 'Nuff said, Van Keel. LVK: This is going to get *very* ugly, *very* quickly. Let's go to David Stokes. [Cut to the ring, where technicians are putting the finishing touches to the various implements of physical agony that are now littered around the ringside area. Stokes stands in the middle of it all, not looking affected by it...] DS: Ladies and gentlemen! It is now time.. FOR OUR *DEMON'S! DOZEN! DEATHMATCH*! ['GET THE "HO-LY SHIT" CHANTS READY, BAWHS' POP!!] DS: The ringside area is surrounded by seven tables. The winner of the contest will be the first man to drive his opponent through *four* of the seven tables. In addition! Four boards have been placed in the corners of the ring. [Stokes motions to each corner, drawing another big pop from the 60,000 crowd.] DS: One board is wrapped in barbed wire! One board is covered in broken glass! One board is covered in light tubes! And finally, the fourth.. a bed of nails! [POP! POP! POP! POP!] DS: And finally... *A BARBED-WIRE BASEBALL BAT*!! [Stokes holds up the said torture device for emphasis. The crowd goes apeshit.] RP: Get on with it, Stokes! We ain't got all evening, y'know - and I want blood! DS: INTRODUCING FIRST! FROM OSAKA, JAPAN! WEIGHING 235 POUNDS... ... HE IS THE SCREEEEAMIN' DEMON!!... "DEMON BOOOOOOOOY" ISSSSSSSSHRINKUUUUUUUUUU!!! ["Last Resort" by Papa Roach blares over the PA to a light mixed pop from the fans. Smoke billows out from the entrance as red strobes begin to flash. Ishrinku's trademark scream rips out through the arena as the man himself limp/walks out from the smoke. He is wearing black fatigue pants, black boots, a black t-shirt with a red "Screaming Demon" face on the front, and black tape on his hands, wrists and forearms. His face is covered in his black and red "Demon Mask" facepaint. His eyes are dulled over like he is in a trance as he eyes the barbed-wire, bed of nails, light tubes, tables and finally his glare falls on the barbed-wire bat in the center of the ring. He slides into the ring and drops to his knees as if in some kind of bizarre prayer. He looks down the aisle and awaits Raya Oscura.] LVK: Oh boy... Ishrinku, the Screamin' Demon... as unstable as any man who ever laced up wrestling boots. In this environment, with all this brutality around him... we really could see *anything* from the 'Demon Boy' here tonight... RP: This guy comes about as close to making an art form out of sadistic violence as anybody I've ever seen in this business, Van Keel. This is gonna *rawk*-- [Within the beating of a startled heart, the Arena descends into a cloying tapestry of raven. In turn, this action heralds the eruption of a single whispered voice from the impressive PA system. The intensity held within the words are startling.] " Understand this, Demon Boy. Now and forever more, me llamo ... " ""... Me llamo RAYA OSCURA!" [... the phrase echoes out with reckless abandon, as Puya's "Sal Pa Fuera" begins to realise its own furious life. In response, the assembled masses leap to their feet as one, unleashing forth a volley of expectant cheers that almost drowns out the venomous, attitude-addled intro music.] [Raya, without the company of Mary and swathed from head to toe in watermarked black, then emerges from the backstage area and strides purposefully down the aisle. The blinking sequence of overhead lights casts a macabre spectre in his wake, as he duly reaches the weapon-laden ring and slithers under the lowest strand.] LVK: ISHRINKU!! ISHRINKU EXPLODING ON THE 'DEATH ANGEL'!! ___ __ _________________________________________________________________ / __\ /__\ |___ \ / / / \// __) | DEMON'S DOZEN DEATH MATCH! / /___ / _ \ / __/ \____/ \/ \_/ |_____| Demon Boy Ishrinku \ vs written \ Raya Oscura by \ Ian \____________________________________________________________________ *DING! DING! DING!* [Holding both ends of the barbed wire baseball bat in his hands, Ishrinku drops to his knees and slams it lengthways across the back of Raya's head, before the 'Death Angel' can even get up off his stomach. Happy Ichinawa doesn't even try to break it up, as the 'Demon Boy' brings it down again, and again, and again..] LVK: ISHRINKU WITH THAT BARBED WIRE BAT, BEATING THE HELL OUTTA OSCURA!! RP: Raya's out of his depth, here, Van Keel! He's in Ishrinku's world, now! [Shrieking horribly at the flattened Raya, Ishrinku doesn't even put down the bat as he grabs him by the back of the mask, and drags him up to his feet. Already, his hand comes away with blood on it - testament to the barbs. He jams the end of the bat into Oscura's gut, sends him across with the irish whip...] LVK: Raya taking a helluva beating, here... sent for the ride... *THUD!!* *OOOOOOOOOHHH!!* RP: DAMN!! LVK: Vile shot to the mid-section with that bat by Ishrinku! [And he pulls it away, tearing at the 'Death Angel's outfit as he does. Oscura slumps to his knees, clutching at his stomach, but again the 'Demon Boy' leaves him no time for recovery, hauling him back up and throwing him towards the barbed-wire board. Raya winces as the barbs tear at his shoulder and neck.] LVK: Oscura backed up against that barbed wire-wrapped board.. this looks bad.. RP: Ishrinku's windin' it up! [Indeed. He reaches back with the back, swings, and...] *WHUD!* [... hits nothing but the board. He turns as Oscura leaps into the air...] LVK: AND A STANDING DROPKICK!! OSCURA DROPKICKED THAT BAT INTO ISHRINKU'S FACE!! RP: Oh man. You *know* that hurts. Good job Ishrinku's gets off on pain, sum'n.. [Ishrinku drops the bat, clawing at his face. Raya unleashes a flurry of quick blows, before attempting the whip to the far corner, and the bed of nails...] LVK: Ishrinku reverses the whip... [But Oscura counters with the baseball slide, avoiding the contact. He spins to see Ishrinku, screaming in trademark fashion as he rushes in, arm outstretched in the lariat attempt. Raya ducks, but Ishrinku stops himself before he can careen into the bed of nails. Oscura grabs the arms of the Screamin' Demon...] LVK: OH! And a *hard* arm wrench by Oscura! RP: Bo-ring! What's this punk doing? Why doesn't he just nail him with the bat? LVK: Strategy, Rick. If Ishrinku can't use his arm to 'wind up'-- RP: *Bo-ring*! LVK: *sigh* [Oscura pounds away on the shoulder with quickfire blows, before jamming Ishrinku into a front facelock, hoisting him up with a handful of his pants...] *THUD!!* [POP!!] LVK: OH BOY!! BIG-TIME IMPLANT DDT BY THE FORMER LIGHT-HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!! RP: Where the hell did that come from?! [Standing over the spread-eagled Ishrinku, Raya turns his head towards the barbed-wire board, eyeing it for a moment. He turns away, but can't help himself but to turn back for the board, feeling the 'Demon Slayer' rising within him...] RP: Hey - no! No fair! Oscura's supposed to be too much of a p[MEEP!]ssy to use barbed-wire, and stuff! Someone get that barbed-wire board away from the punk! LVK: Raya may know, deep-down, that his alter-ego Stripe - a hardcore warrior - is the only person who can defeat the 'Demon Boy'. But he has vowed never to-- RP: Larry, please. Oscura's a p[MEEP!]ssy. That's all we need to know. LVK: *grumbles* [Meanwhile, Oscura - if that *is* his name at this point - yanks the board away from the turnbuckles, and holds it above his head, before turning and rushing towards Ishrinku, somersaulting and driving the board down into the midsection!] LVK: Dear God - Oscura with a modified rolling senton, spiked with that board! RP: That ain't Oscura doing that, Van Keel. You *know* who that is. [The crowd pops, as the Screamin' Demon rolls over on to his stomach, kicking his legs in agony. Rising to his feet, The 'Death Angel' ducks between the ropes and, in a single bound, leaps up to the top turnbuckle, readying himself...] LVK: Oscura going up top! [And he flies, the flashbulbs pop as he pumps his body...] *THUD!!* *YAAAARGH!!* [... but splatters across the board, held up by Ishrinku! SHOCK POP!] RP: HOLY SHIZNIT!! LVK: ISHRINKU GOT THE BOARD UP!! OSCURA FROG-SPLASHED THAT BARBED-WIRE BOARD!! [Oscura lies face down on the mat, his body curled up into a foetal position. Ishrinku pushes himself up to all-fours, groping the canvas for the barbed-wire bat. Finding it, he gets to his feet, and rolls Raya on to the barbed-wire board, stomach-first, pinning down his struggling with all his weight...] LVK: Ishrinku straddling Oscura, now... *OOOOOOOHHHH!!* RP: Sheesh! LVK: Good God - Ishrinku just rammed Raya's head against that barbed-wire board! RP: Damn! He does it a second time - and *harder*! And again! LVK: Oh boy... if there are young children watching, folks... RP: Shut up, Van Keel! This is *great*! [Now, grabbing the back of Oscura's blood-stained black mask, the Screamin' Demon yanks his head back and applies the pressure on a camel clutch, holding the bat laterally against the face of the 'Death Angel' for added effect...] LVK: And Ishrinku with the camel clutch, choking Raya with the barbed wire bat! RP: And he's on top of that barbed wire board, to boot! The entire front half of Oscura's body is gonna be shredded like paper! This is *unbelievable*, Larry! [Screaming in typical fashion, Ishrinku applies even more pressure to the hold, as droplets of Raya's blood begin to stain the canvas. Happy Ichinawa does his best to call the 'Demon Boy' off, but it's like he barely even exists at all.] LVK: Oh God... Ishrinku's cutting Raya up pretty badly, it looks like... RP: Duh! This ain't no post-match rub-down, Van Keel... [And finally, feeling he's done enough, Ishrinku throws down the bat and releases the hold, allowing Oscura to fall limp. Getting to his feet, the 'Demon Boy' screams at Raya in Japanese, probably telling him to 'get up'. Losing patience, he grabs him by the back of the mask and drags him to standing...] LVK: Ishrinku, now-- NO! OSCURA WITH A KICK TO THE KNEECAP! RP: Brutal! He tried to break Ishy's leg in half! LVK: SPINNING BACKFIST TO THE THROAT BY RAYA..!! [Rasping and clutching at his trachea, Ishrinku stumbles back...] LVK: I-- I've never seen Raya Oscura use those moves before... [Oscura holds his head with both hands, fighting it. When Ishrinku turns around, though, he knows exactly what he has to do, grabbing him around the waist...] *THUD!!* *YEEEEEEAAAARGHH!!* *OOOOOOOOOOOOHHH!!* [HARDCORE POP!!] RP: HOLY SHIZNIT!! LVK: GUTWRENCH POWERBOMB ON TO THAT BARBED WIRE BOARD!! GOOD GOD!! [Ishrinku arches up off the board, little chunks of his flesh and tiny clumps of hair hooked on the barbs. He rolls on to his stomach, the back of his black t- shirt ripped and bloodied. Raya also goes down, pushing his head against the bottom turnbuckle. The 'Demon Boy' begins a slow crawl to the opposite corner..] LVK: Rick, the only man I've ever seen use that kick-backfist-powerbomb combo-- RP: -- oh, crap. Don't tell me, I don't wanna hear it... LVK: It was Stripe. Slowly, Ishrinku's bringing out the 'Demon Slayer' in Raya. RP: I told you, Van Keel - I *don't* wanna hear it! Damn punkhead, Oscura. [And the two men get up in a painfully slow unison, each man with a hold of the ropes. The 'Death Angel' is the quickest to react, though, rushing off-guard and catching Ishrinku off guard as he stumbles out of the 'bed of nails' corner...] LVK: Oh! Oscura with a running dropkick to the stomach! [Ishrinku hunches over. Raya applies a rear waistlock. ANTICIPATION POP!!] RP: Oh... sh[meep!]t. *THUUD!!!* *YEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAARGHH!!!* *OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH!!!* [OBSCENELY HARDCORE POP!!] RP: ARGH! LVK: OH MY GOD!! OSCURA WITH A RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX ON TO THAT BED OF NAILS! RP: He's trying to kill him, Van Keel! He's trying to *kill* Ishrinku! [And, sporting numerous puncture wounds in his back, the 'Demon Boy' rolls out on to the apron, and stays there. Oscura lies on his front in the ring, the blood still flowing with worrying abundance from under his shredded black mask.] LVK: This match is bringing the worst out of Raya Oscura, that much is obvious.. RP: Well, it's either that or get killed, Van Keel. Which would you prefer? [Slowly, Raya makes it back to his feet. He pulls the barbed-wire board that lies on the mat behind him a little closer, before stumbling around, reaching over the top rope and grabbing the 'Demon Boy' by the hair. Hauling him up to his feet, he applies a front facelock, summons all his strength, and lifts...] LVK: Oscura going for a suplex on to that barbed-wire board..! [... but Ishrinku kicks out of the suplex, landing on the apron. Glancing quickly behind him, the Screamin' Demon looks to reverse the suplex into one of his own, putting the 'Death Angel' through a ringside table in the process...] LVK: No! Ishrinku with the reveral, lifting Raya up..! RP: Ishrinku's about to take the lead, Van Keel! One to nothing, coming up! [... but he speaks too soon. Shifting his weight, Oscura lands on his feet on the apron, at the side of the 'Demon Boy'. With almost no room to manoeuvre, Raya nails a kick to the gut, applies a front facelock... ANTICIPATION POP!!] LVK: RAYA GOING FOR THAT IMPLANT DDT OFF THE APRON!! RP: NO!! [... but Ishrinku manages to block, with Raya clutching at his army fatigues. Dropping to a knee, the Screamin' Demon slams his forearm up into Oscura's crotch that draws a big-time protest pop from the crowd. Ignoring them and (surprise, surprise) Happy Ichinawa as well, he scoops Oscura up in his arms...] LVK: OH GOD - NO!! *KRRRRRRRRRRRRNCH!!!* [BIG CONCERNED POP!!!] RP: GREAT GOOGILY MOOGILY!! LVK: ISHRINKU WITH THAT PATENTED NORTHERN LIGHTS BOMB THROUGH A TABLE!! RP: What a way to put yourself one-nothing up, Van Keel! Raya must be *dead*! [The two competitors lie side-by-side in the wreckage, broken and becoming bloodier with each second that passes. The crowd is still buzzing after the manoeuvre, and Happy Ichinawa drops out of the ring to check on the two men...] LVK: These two are already in need of medical attention. And we're not even a fraction of the way through. I really don't know what else might happen, here. RP: Only in RCW, baby! [And Ishrinku gets up with surprising quickness. Oscura doesn't look like he'll be getting up any time in the next two weeks or so. Stumbling up against the apron, the 'Demon Boy' grabs the barbed-wire board that still lies in the ring and pulls it out under the bottom rope, using it for temporary support...] LVK: Oh, God... Ishrinku's got the barbed-wire board again... RP: And you know what that means, Larry. *More* sick and twisted violence! LVK: I can't believe you're not concerned for these men, Rick. RP: And I can't believe you *are* concerned for them! They're a pair of freaks! LVK: *sigh* [Staggering over Oscura's limp body, Ishrinku props the board between the apron and the guardrail, and over the one remaining table that remains on the side of the ring. A small hardcore pop goes up as he drags Oscura up off the floor...] LVK: Oh God. He's not... he can't do what I think he's planning to do. RP: Oh he can, Larry. He's gonna. LVK: There's a barbed-wire board propped over a table, over there... somebody better have the medics ready in the back. I'm serious, make sure they're ready. [Slamming Raya's face into the board, Ishrinku grabs him by the legs and rolls him up so he's lying on top of it, with barely even enough strength to react to the barbed wire. Ishrinku pulls himself up on to the apron, stepping gingerly on to the board, testing it. He hauls Oscura up into a standing headscissor...] LVK: Oh my God, no. *KRNCK!* [HARDCORE POP FROM HELL!!] RP: Sh[meep!]t, Van Keel... this looks bad. LVK: Get the medics out here, people. This is bad, get them out here... [To recap, the barbed-wire board actually gave way under their weight, slipping off the guardrail. As a result, Raya's head quasi-impacted with the board before being plunged through the table below by Ishrinku's split-legged piledriver. The result? The board was snapped in half. The table was smashed. Ishrinku went up two falls to none. And Oscura took one motherfucker of a nasty-looking fall.] LVK: Come on - we need help out here! Quickly! RP: Here they come, Larry. [Holding his lower back and hobbling, Ishrinku pulls himself up to his feet as the medics come flooding down the aisle to check on Oscura. Backing up against the apron, the 'Demon Boy' looks on as his opponent is tended to, before rolling back into the ring under the bottom rope, grabbing the barbed-wire ball bat...] LVK: We've got about four or five medics out here tending to Raya Oscura, fans.. RP: That was dangerous impact, Van Keel. Real bad. Oscura could be hurt. LVK: It looks as if this match is over, fans, I'm afraid... [... but not in the mind of the Screamin' Demon. He drops out of the ring, and shrieks, swinging the bat as only a lunatic of his stature can do. Needless to say, Happy Ichinawa and the medics don't take long to get the message, but Ishrinku chases them half-way up the aisle to make sure they won't come back.] LVK: Oh... what the hell is Ishrinku doing? Raya Oscura needs assistance! RP: Damn... this is a really intense rivalry, Van Keel. And Ishrinku's a maniac. LVK: That's no excuse! Oscura *needs* help! Get security out here! [But no-one answers Larry Van Keel's cry for help this time. Ishrinku goes back to where the 'Death Angel' hasn't moved since taking the piledriver. Lifting Oscura to his feet takes a worrying amount of effort from Ishrinku, and he practically drags Raya around to the side of the ring facing the rampway...] LVK: This match can't continue! Raya can barely stand up! RP: Nothing we can do, Van Keel! Do *you* wanna go over there and stop Ishrinku? [Pausing at steel the steps, the 'Demon Boy' lays the bat across the top of them and sticks Raya's face into it, grinding his forehead against the barbs, tearing open new wounds and opening up old ones even further. The boos get louder...] LVK: Oscura is defenceless! This is sickening! [But he soon tires of that. Little more than half of Oscura's original mask remains, but anything of his face we might have seen has is hidden behind blood. Ishrinku throws him to one side, and the 'Death Angel' simply collapses, the baseball bat at his side. The Screamin' Demon reaches down, scrapes him up...] LVK: Oh no... not this. Ishrinku's gonna put Raya through *another* table. RP: That'll put him up, three-zero. Match'll be out of Oscura's reach, then. LVK: The match is already out of Oscura's reach, Rick! He's barely conscious! [And, with Oscura in a standing headscissor again, Ishrinku lifts...] RP: Powerbomb! LVK: Wait! Raya's got the bat in his hand! He must've picked the bat up--! [Mounted on the shoulders of the 'Demon Boy', Raya reaches back with the bat...] *THUNK!* *YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAARGHH!!* [GIGANTIC SHOCK/FACE POP!!] RP: HOLY SHIZNIT!! LVK: RAYA NAILED ISHRINKU RIGHT BETWEEN THE EYES WITH THAT BARBED-WIRE BAT!! RP: What the hell's happening?!? I thought he was unconscious?!?! [Obviously, the Screamin' Demon topples backwards, with Oscura landing hard in his chest cavity. The massive Dallas crowd is roaring its approval, as Raya crawls off Ishrinku's carcass, blood pouring from the 'Demon Boy's forehead.] LVK: Oscura is still alive - I can barely believe it! Listen to this crowd! [Using the bat for support, Oscura grabs hold of the apron and slithers up the side of the steps. A hand pressed to his face to stem the flow of blood, Ishrinku rolls on to his stomach and begins to push himself up to his feet...] RP: This is bad, Van Keel... *real* bad! [Oscura stands hunched over the steel steps, staring at his hands, stained scarlet with his own blood. He claws at his face, his body thrashing slightly as if wrestling with some invisible foe. Behind him, Ishrinku wobbles up to his feet. Whirling around, he charges, the bat cocked dangerously behind his head..] *THUNK!!!* [BRUTALITY POP!!] LVK: OH MY GOD - OSCURA DECAPITATES ISHRINKU WITH A SHOT TO THE HEAD!! RP: SWEET BUTTERY JESUS!! [Ishrinku shrieks and stumbles back, stretching out across one the table that has been placed behind him. Raya pushes his legs up on to the table, laying him prone across it, the blood flowing massively from both men. Rolling back into the ring, Oscura stumbles into the empty corner and begins to climb the ropes..] LVK: And Oscura's going to the top rope! RP: He'll kill them both, Van Keel! He's gone off the deep end! [Reaching the top, Oscura wobbles slightly, the blood loss doing his balance and coordination no good whatsoever. Collectively, the crowd holds its breath as the former Light-Heavyweight Champion steadies himself sizes up his opponent, laying on the table some ten feet away, and leaps, time seeming to stand still...] *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *KRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNNNNNK!!!* ['MARK-OUT TO END ALL MARK-OUTS' POP!!] RP: HOLY [MEEP!]KING COW!! LVK: 'DEATH FROM ABOVE'! RAYA WITH A 450 SPLASH ON TO ISHRINKU, THROUGH A TABLE! * HO - LY SHIT! HO - LY SHIT! * * HO - LY SHIT! HO - LY SHIT! * * HO - LY SHIT! HO - LY SHIT! * [And once again, the two lie side-by-side in the remains of the table.] LVK: UNBELIEVABLE MANOEUVRE BY RAYA OSCURA!! 450 SPLASH TO THE OUTSIDE!! [Breathing heavily, bleeding like a stuck pig and clutching his ribs after the incredible impact, Raya rolls on to his side and gropes for the apron curtain. Ishrinku stays down, Happy Ichinawa finally able to get near him. Weak-kneed and almost blinded with the flow of blood, Oscura makes it to a standing position.] RP: That's two-to-one, Van Keel! The punkhead's got himself back in this thing!! [Staggering over Ishrinku's body, Oscura steadies himself on the guardrail, before bending down, grabbing a handful of his blood-soaked hair, and dragging him to his feet, stumbling forward and rolling him under the bottom rope...] LVK: Finally, this match goes back into the ring... [Turning and grabbing the remaining table on that side of the ring, Raya folds its legs up underneath and slides it into the ring after Ishrinku. The 'Demon Boy' is dragging himself across the canvas, inching himself closer to the light- tube board, as Oscura pulls himself up on to the apron and through the ropes...] LVK: Oscura bringing a table into the ring, Ishrinku looking out of it.. if Raya manages to put him through that, he'll tie this contest at two falls apiece... RP: And if *Ishrinku* manages to put *Oscura* through it, he'll go three-one up! LVK: This really is a crucial point in the match for the 'Death Angel'... [Picking up the table, the man known as Raya Oscura unfolds the legs and sets it up against the ropes. Ishrinku, meanwhile, is clawing his way up the ropes, pulling himself back to his feet. A groggy Oscura stumbles around, as the 'Demon Boy' picks up the board with five light tubes mounted on it, and charges...] LVK: ISHRINKU WITH THAT LIGHT TUBE BOARD-!!! *WHUD!* *PPKRRRRSH!!* *YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEARRRRGH!!* [HUGE BLOODTHIRSTY HARDCORE POP!!!] RP: OH CRAP!! LVK: OSCURA SUPERKICKED THAT BOARD BACK INTO ISHRINKU'S FACE!! RP: What the hell was he thinking, swinging with the 'safe' side of the board?!? LVK: THOSE FLUORESCENT LIGHT TUBES, SHATTERED OVER THE HEAD OF THE 'DEMON BOY'!! [Lying on his stomach amidst the shards of shattered light tubes, with a blood stain spreading alarmingly across the canvas, Ishrinku simply stops moving. Raya glances down at his opponent, and finds himself smiling at the sight of blood, unable to suppress the 'Demon Slayer' buried deep in his troubled psyche...] RP: He's *smiling*! I don't believe it! The punk's turned into a sadist! LVK: You can't help the feeling that he's becoming less Raya Oscura, less Callan Greenway, and more Stripe with every blow he trades with 'Demon Boy' Ishrinku... [And Oscura heads for the apron once more. He grabs the top rope and begins an arduous climb, the blood still flowing freely after the pummeling he took earlier. Ishrinku makes it up to all-fours, Happy Ichinawa coming over to check on him. Spying Raya up top, the 'Demon Boy' shoves Happy back into the ropes...] LVK: Oscura's gonna take another chance! All-or-nothing for the 'Death Angel'--! *OOOOOOOHHH!!* [MALE SYMPATHY POP!!] LVK: OOOOOHH NO!! ISHRINKU SHOVED HAPPY ICHINAWA INTO THE ROPES!! RP: Ha! Way to hit the punkhead where it hurts, Ishy! [Oscura slumps forward, barely managing to keep himself from flipping over to the mat. Ishrinku scrambles to his feet with a sudden burst of adrenaline, rushing at Raya with an eye-gouge before stepping up to the bottom rope and pushing the 'Death Angel' up. He grabs him by the mask, by the tights, and...] LVK: ISHRINKUUUU--!!! *PKRRRSSH!!* *YAAAAAAAAARGHHH!!* [BRAIN-RATTLING SHOCK/PROTEST POP!!!] RP: SWEET MOTHER OF PERLE!! LVK: ISHRINKU JUST THREW RAYA OFF THE TOP ON TO THAT BROKEN LIGHT TUBE BOARD!! RP: MY GAWD - THE BRUTALITY!! [With glass shards sticking in his flesh, Oscura arches up off the canvas and on to his stomach in the grip of agony. Ishrinku is on his knees, blood staining almost the entire upper half of his body. Dragging himself back up, forcing himself to continue, he staggers over to where Raya had left the table, the Screamin' Demon picks it up and places it in the middle of the ring...] RP: He's going for it, Van Keel! He's going for the table! [And scraping Oscura up, the 'Demon Boy' rolls him up on top of it, choking him as he does to make sure he doesn't recover quickly enough. Then, he turns to the nearest empty corner, and begins to climb the ropes. Reaching the top, he rips away his t-shirt to reveal gauze underneath, stained brown with something...] LVK: *cough* ... what? ... that smell..? *cough* RP: Kerosene, Larry. That's what the smell is. LVK: Oh my God. [And, as if you needed to be told, this lunatic produces a lighter.] *FWOOOOM!!* *OOOOOOOOOOHHHH!!* [ULTRA SHOCKED POP!!] RP: ... LVK: MY GOD - ISHRINKU'S ON FIRE!! THIS DAMN MANIAC HAS SET HIMSELF ON FIRE!! [Screaming in agony, the flaming 'Demon Boy' leaps, arching back...] *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *KKKKKKKRRRRRRNCHH!!!* [SHAKE THE FOUNDATIONS INSANE HIGHSPOT POP!!!] RP: HOLY F[MEEP!]ING S[MEEP!]T!! LVK: GOOD GOD - SOMEBODY DO SOMETHING!! ISHRINKU'S ON FIRE!! * HO - LY SHIT! HO - LY SHIT! * * HO - LY SHIT! HO - LY SHIT! * * HO - LY SHIT! HO - LY SHIT! * [Oscura barely has enough strength to even react as Ishrinku rolls off him and under the bottom rope to the outside, shrieking. Thankfully, a security guard is on hand with an extinguisher to put out the flames, and the 'Demon Boy' stops writhing and just lies covered in pasty white foam, grinning like a sadist.] LVK: Dear God - Ishrinku set himself on fire to put Raya through another table! RP: Unbelievable, Van Keel. *Un-be-lievable*. LVK: How these two men haven't been stretchered out, I'll never know.. but we've got one of the most vicious contests I have ever seen on our hands right now... RP: And Ishrinku leads, three-to-one - it's almost bedtime for Raya... LVK: Oscura is still down in the ring, Ishrinku recovering on the outside... [His body beaten, extremely bloody and now scorched raw to boot, Ishrinku rolls on to his side and finds the barbed-wire bat at his feet. Getting to his knees, he takes up the bat and throws up the apron, pulling out a steel chair from underneath. He slides both weapons into the ring, begins getting to his feet...] LVK: And Ishrinku's back up! RP: He's gonna finish Oscura off, Van Keel! [Rolling into the ring, Ishrinku grabs the bat and literally drags himself over to where Oscura lies, still motionless after the Firesault amidst the remains of the table. The Screamin' Demon rolls him on to his back, and locks the bat across his face, brutally raking the barbed wire across Oscura's forehead.] LVK: Oh... God - this is just getting vile, now. Ishrinku, without the strength to do anything else, is just tearing at Oscura's face with that barbed-wire... [Even the crowd has descended into an awed hush as Ishrinku leaves the barbs sticking in Oscura's flesh, staggers up to his feet, and picks up the steel chair. A small 'don't do it' kinda pop goes up from the crowd, as he shoves Ichinawa aside, holds the chair high above his head, and brings it down...] *KLNK!* [PROTEST POP!!] LVK: Good God, no. RP: Did you hear that? Ugh. LVK: Fans, this matc-- RP: What the hell? [Eyes turn to the rampway, as Raya Oscura's fiancee Mary comes running down to the ring, waving her arms and shouting. Referee Happy Ichinawa drops out of the ring and meets her at the bottom of the ramp, with this obviously no environment for a woman. But she refuses to leave, pleading for the match to be stopped...] LVK: Oscura's fiancee Mary out here, trying to get them to stop this... RP: I think that might be a good idea. Save Oscura a few months on the shelf. LVK: If he can *ever* come back. RP: Damn - d'you think..? LVK: I don't really like to think about it, Rick. [Feeling he's given Mary enough attention, Ishrinku (who had been watching her from the ring), turns away and holds the chair up again, looking to turn out Oscura's lights for a helluva long time to come. But the young woman shoves Happy Ichinawa away, and scrambles into the ring to protect her fiancee...] LVK: Oh no - get her out of there! Somebody get her away from that lunatic! [And the 'Demon Boy' pauses, the chair still held high. Mary pleads with him to put the weapon down (not that he understands), and he mulls it over for a second... before cocking the chair back once again to a MASSIVE PROTEST POP!!] LVK: NO! NO! RP: Someone get in there! Quickly! [Mary cowers, cradling her head, waiting for the impact... but it never comes. Ishrinku drops the chair, to a big relief pop from the crowd, and the young woman turns to tend to her fiancee, the Screamin' Demon looking on silently.] LVK: Thank God... this 'Demon Boy' isn't quite the monster we thought he was... RP: Lucky for Mary - what was she thinking getting in there? LVK: She was l-- HEY!! [EAR-SPLITTING HEEL POP!!] LVK: THAT BASTARD ISHRINKU'S GOT MARY BY THE HAIR!! *FWWWSH!!* RP: BLOOD MIST!! LVK: ISHRINKU JUST SPIT THE MIST IN MARY'S FACE!! [And he grabs her by the hair again, drags her to her feet and scoops her up...] LVK: NO! NO! HE'S GONNA HIT HER WITH THE NORTHERN LIGHTS BOMB!! *YEEEEEEARGH!!* [Unleashing his trademark scream with Mary upside down in his arms, Ishrinku doesn't notice Raya getting to his feet, barbed-wire bat in hand. HUGE POP!!] LVK: WAITAMINUTE!! OSCURA TO HIS FEET!! RP: WHAT THE-?! HE'S GOT THE BARBED-WIRE BAT!! *THUNK!* [MASSIVE BRUTALITY POP!!] LVK: OH MY GOD!! RP: AAAARGH!! LVK: WHAT A VICIOUS SHOT TO THE HEAD!! HE COULD'VE CAVED ISHRINKU'S FACE IN!! [And, with Mary crawling from the ring and Ishrinku face-down, staining the mat with even more blood, Oscura simply stands and rips off his mask, visage barely even visible behind all the crimson. All that can be made out is a wild-eyed grin, as the chant starts off small, getting louder and louder each time...] * STRIPE! STRIPE! STRIPE! * * STRIPE! STRIPE! STRIPE! * * STRIPE! STRIPE! STRIPE! * RP: Oh... sh[meep!]t... LVK: THIS 60,000 CROWD CALLING FOR RAYA OSCURA TO UNLEASH THE 'DEMON SLAYER'!! [Oscura spins to face each side of the Cotton Bowl, 60,000 voices calling for his alter-ego to emerge. He bows his head, holding it in both hands... before throwing it back, pumping his arms in the air, and releasing all his pent-up emotion with a primal battle cry! TEAR THE HOUSE DOWN FACE POP FROM HELL!!] RP: ARGH! LVK: AND HE DOES!! STRIPE HAS FINALLY TAKEN OVER CALLAN GREENWAY!! [Reaching down, Stripe yanks Ishrinku up to his feet with a surprising amount of energy. Grabbing him in a drop-down waistlock, he picks him up, and drops him down across the knee in an inverted atomic drop, before transitioning fluidly into a Northern Lights suplex, flinging the 'Demon Boy' across the ring! POP!!] LVK: STRIPE GOING TO WORK ON THE SCREAMIN' DEMON, NOW!! BIG-TIME SUPLEX!! [Allowing his opponent no time for recovery, Raya/Stripe springs up to his feet, whirls around and drags Ishrinku up yet again. A vicious palm strike to the bridge of the nose sends the Osaka native reeling back into the ropes, and is quickly followed up by a knee, driven to the gut that hunches Ishrinku over. Raya slips behind, applies a half-nelson and chicken-wings the other arm...] *THUUD!!* [STIFF FUTHERMUCKING SUPLEX POP!!] RP: OH CRAP!! LVK: AND ANOTHER, BRUTAL SUPLEX DROPS ISHRINKU RIGHT ON HIS HEAD!! RP: What the hell is going on?! Where's the punk getting the energy from?! [Kicking away the wreckage of the table, Stripe stomps across the ring to where the bed of nails is propped in the corner, and picks it up with some effort. Laying it neatly in the center of the ring, he goes back to the 'Demon Boy', and drags him on top of it with a handful of hair and his black army fatigues...] LVK: Stripe putting Ishrinku on top of that bed of nails, now! RP: Oh boy... [Raya/Stripe bounces off the ropes on one side, hops over the bed of nails and the Screamin' Demon, and hits the other side, leaping into the air off the rebound and corkscrewing through 180 degrees, before nailing the elbow! POP!!] RP: HOLY GUACAMOLE!! LVK: SLAYER'S ELBOW ON THAT BED OF NAILS!! RP: *SLAYER'S ELBOW*?!?!!! LVK: STRIPE ANNOUNCING HIS ARRIVAL INTO THIS MATCH WITH A TRADEMARK MOVE!! [Writhing in agony, Ishrinku rolls off the bed of nails and on to his stomach, as the 'Demon Slayer' pushes it to one side, pulling the board with the shattered fluorescent light tubes mounted on it into its place. Getting to his feet, he snatches Ishrinku up for a third time, applies a rear-waistlock...] RP: What the hell is he gonna do now?!? LVK: Ishrinku threw Raya Oscura off the top rope on to that very light-tube board just a few minutes ago... I don't like to think what Stripe's planning to do for his revenge, now, as he puts the 'Demon Boy' on the top turnbuckle... [With Ishrinku barely even to remain upright, crotched on the top rope and facing out into the crowd, Stripe ducks out on to the apron and slowly climbs the ropes, the effects of the match finally seeming to have caught up with him. Reaching the top, he pulls Ishrinku up to his feet, applies a chokehold...] *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *THHHHHUDD-PKRNSSSH!!!* *YEEEEEEEEEEEAAARGH!!!* [MEGA-MEGA HARDCORE POP!!!] LVK: OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!! RP: GREAT GOOGILY MOOGILY!! LVK: LEGSWEEP CHOKESLAM OFF THE TOP ROPE, ON TO THOSE BROKEN LIGHT TUBES!! [Ishrinku actually rolls backwards off the impact, clutching the back of his head where several rogue glass shards have embedded themselves in his flash. With his back, torso and head a mass of burn marks, barbed wire wounds and big, bloody gashes, the 'Demon Boy' simply lies in agony as Stripe staggers to his feet and back into the corner, unable to keep his balance from the blood loss.] LVK: I have never seen *anything* like this in my entire life! RP: How are these two still *alive*, after everything they've taken? [Tumbling through the ropes, Oscura/Stripe reaches into the ring and pulls the one, as-yet-untouched board - the one covered in shards of broken glass - out of the ring under the bottom rope. Stumbling out to the table at the bottom of the ramp, he pulls it a little closer to the ring and lays the board across it.] RP: What the hell is he doing now? LVK: I don't know, Rick. But it looks bad for 'Demon Boy' Ishrinku... [Nonetheless, the Screamin' Demon is slowly getting back to his feet, using the corner ropes for support. Stripe has to prop himself on the apron for a moment to catch his breath, before stumbling over to the far side of the ring where two tables remain unused. As he pulls himself up on to the apron, Ishrinku stumbles across the ring, picks up the barbed-wire bat, and rushes back across...] *THUD!* [DEFLATED POP!!] LVK: OOOOHH!! ISHRINKU JUST NAILED STRIPE IN THE HEAD WITH THE BUTT OF THAT BAT! RP: Whew! [Stripe goes straight down on to the apron, lucky not to be sent flying off it and through one of the tables behind him. Ishrinku drops the bat, reaches over the ropes and drags Stripe up... only to have his nose smashed with a headbutt!] RP: What the-?! [The 'Demon Boy' spins away holding his face, even more blood beginning to spew from his nostrils. He doesn't get too far, though, before Stripe reaches out and snatches him in an inverted facelock, and lifting with a massive effort...] LVK: STRIPE WITH THE SUPLEX-!!! RP: NOOOOOOO!!! *PKRRRRRRRRRRRRRNCH!!!* [GIGANTIC TABLE-OBLITERATION FACE POP!!!] RP: AAAAARGH!!! LVK: OH MY GOD!! ISHRINKU REVERSE SUPLEXED OFF THE APRON, THROUGH A TABLE!! [Having taken a heavy fall to the outside, Stripe lies cradling the back of his head with Ishrinku's mangled body just behind him. The fans in the front row at the Cotton Bowl lean over the guardrail, whooping, hollering - generally going crazy. Eventually, Stripe rolls over on to his stomach, pushing himself up...] LVK: Raya Oscura - Stripe, whoever it is - has pulled one fall back! Three-two! RP: This is insane! What *else* are we gonna see from these two tonight? [Now back to his feet (just!), Stripe turns and picks up the other table on that side of the ring, folding its legs up and sliding it into the ring. Reaching down and grabbing a handful of the 'Demon Boy's blood-matted hair, he drags him up, nails a brutal palm strike-headbutt combo, and rolls him into the ring.] LVK: Oscura, with the sixth table in the ring, sending Ishrinku back in... [Crawling across the ring, the Screamin' Demon drags himself up the ropes on the opposite side as Stripe pulls himself up on to the apron, and waits there. As Ishrinku makes it to his feet and turns, Stripe vaults up to the top rope...] *THUD!* [POP!!] LVK: Springboard lariat by Oscura! RP: Oscura? Don't you mean..? LVK: -- a signature Oscura move - but who knows what's going on in that man's head right about now. An amazingly agile move at this stage of the match, whatever way you look at it, and he's got Ishrinku right where he wants him... [For a few seconds, both men stay down on the canvas. Stripe is the first one back to his feet, but there's no doubting that it requires one hell of an effort. Staggering across to the other side, he picks up the table and, unfolding the legs, sets it in the center of the ring. Ishrinku rolls over.] LVK: Stripe setting up that table, now - if he hits this, he'll tie the match... RP: Three-all! With one table to go... God knows what these two psychopaths are gonna do to one another to make sure they aren't the one being put through it... [Navigating the table, Stripe drives his boot down into the side of Ishrinku's bloody head. Scraping him up to his feet, the 'Demon Slayer' cracks him with another, brutal headbutt, which sends the Screamin' Demon staggering back towards the table. A flurry of right hand blows has him laying across it.] LVK: Here we go! Stripe with Ishrinku positioned on the table, now... RP: Get up, Ishy! [Now staggering out through the ropes on the near side, Stripe stumbles along the apron and begins the task of dragging himself up to the top turnbuckle. However, when he reaches the middle rope, Ishrinku rolls off the table, snatches up the light-tube board, and charges the corner. As Stripe straddles the top...] *KRNCCCHSSHH!!* [PROTEST POP!!] LVK: GOOD GOD!! ISHRINKU NAILED STRIPE IN THE HEAD WITH THAT LIGHT-TUBE BOARD!! RP: Oh man. Just when you thought this thing couldn't get any bloodier... [Stripe lolls about on the top turnbuckle, hanging on to his consciousness by a thread, a fresh flow of blood appearing alongside the three or four others on his forehead. The 'Demon Boy' drops the board outside the ring, before tumbling through the ropes after it with the momentum of his giant swing...] LVK: *sigh* Oh boy... this just keeps going, and going... RP: Are these two even human? Wouldn't a normal person be in a morgue right now? LVK: Like you said, Rick - this is one intense blood-feud. This is to the death. [On his hands and knees, Ishrinku throws up the ring apron. DISBELIEF POP!!] LVK: Oh... my... God. RP: Is that..? LVK: It's a gas canister, Rick. RP: Oh... sh[meep!]t. [Dragging himself into the ring through the bottom ropes, Ishrinku pulls himself up to his feet, and blasts Stripe - still on the top rope - full in the face with the canister, almost knocking him down again. Unscrewing the cap, Ishrinku upturns the container, dousing the table in petrol. FLAMMABLE LIQUIDS POP!!] LVK: Ishrinku dousing that table in petrol! Good Lord - this is *insane*! [And once again, the lighter.] *FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!* [FIRE POP!!] RP: SWEET MERCIFUL PETE!! LVK: THE TABLE'S ON FIRE!! ISHRINKU SETTING THE DAMN TABLE ON FIRE, NOW!! [Stumbling into the corner, Ishrinku pulls himself up to the second turnbuckle, and then to the top, bringing Stripe up with him. The fans are almost silent in anticipation, Ichinawa is demanding that he get down, and Ishrinku himself is barely able to stand, as he applies the ominous vertical headscissors...] LVK: HE'S NOT! HE CAN'T! RP: OH GOD!! LVK: HE CAN'T DO WHAT I THINK HE'S GONNA DO, SURELY! [Oh, but he is. With what's got to be his last ounce of strength, the 'Demon Boy' hauls Stripe up on to his shoulders, twists around, and leaps from the top rope, the two plunging towards the flaming table in a heart-stopping moment...] LVK: OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOD--!! [But some how, some way, Stripe slips out of the move almost in slow motion. The fans hardly have time to react as he applies the front face-lock, and - feeling the heat of the flames on his back, braces himself for one hell of an impact...] RP: AAAAAAAARGH--!! *PPKKKKKKKKKKKKKRRRRRRRRRNCCHHH!!!!* [In a totally awe-inspiring sight, the two men plunge through the flaming table. Ishrinku's head somehow stays clear of the flames, disappearing about two or three inches into the canvas on impact, the two men in an awkward fiery embrace in the center of the ring. MEGA INSANE HARDCORE HIGHSPOT POP TO END ALL POPS!!] RP: F[MEEEEEEEEEEP!]K!!! LVK: OHMYGOD!! OH MY GOD!! OH!! MY!! GOD!! [And the roar of the crowd keeps going, and going, and going. A team of three or four technicians scramble into the ring with extinguishers to put out the fire, Stripe and 'Demon Boy' Ishrinku squirming on the canvas as their flesh burns...] RP: I... I... I DON'T BELIEVE IT! LVK: STRIPE REVERSED ISHRINKU'S SUPER POWERBOMB INTO A SAMURAI DRIVER!! RP: THE TABLE! THE TABLE WAS *ON FIRE*, VAN KEEL!! HE COULD HAVE KILLED HIM!! [On the outside, Mary is catatonic as the last of the flames are extinguished in the ring. Stripe lies on his stomach, either having injured his back, in agony from his burns... or both. Ishrinku is also face down. The chant begins again..] * STRIPE! STRIPE! STRIPE! * * STRIPE! STRIPE! STRIPE! * * STRIPE! STRIPE! STRIPE! * RP: And you've gotta remember - Stripe, Raya Oscura, whoever - he was on the verge of losing this match, right there! That reversal levels it at three-three! LVK: To be honest, Rick, I'm not convinced either man will get up from that... [Amidst the smoking, blackened wreckage, they lie.] * STRIPE! STRIPE! STRIPE! * * STRIPE! STRIPE! STRIPE! * * STRIPE! STRIPE! STRIPE! * LVK: Listen to this crowd, chanting for the 'Demon Slayer'! [Image cuts to the last, remaining table, positioned at the base of the ramp, the board with shards of broken glass glued to it laid across its surface. Cut back to the ring, where Raya/Stripe stretches an arm out, and pulls himself an inch closer to the ropes. Ishrinku remains motionless, as Stripe crawls away...] LVK: I don't believe it! He's moving! There's still life left in Stripe! RP: What the hell is Ishrinku gonna have to do to put him away?! [Grabbing the bottom rope, Stripe pulls himself up to his knees, grimacing with the effort. Another ten seconds pass before he even attempts to get to his feet, and he does - to a big pop from the Dallas crowd. Staggering over to where the 'Demon Boy' lies, Stripe bends down with his blood-stained face a map of pain, grabbing Ishrinku by what's left of his hair and hauling him to his feet...] LVK: And they're both up to their feet, now! Can you believe this? RP: First guy to go through that table over there loses everything! Everything! LVK: And neither man took their body to inhuman levels of agony to lose this... [Leading Ishrinku over to the side of the ring nearest the table, Stripe simply bundles him through the ropes and on to the apron. However, as he heads for the nearest corner of the ring, he fails to see the 'Demon Boy' reach out for the nearby barbed-wire bat, concealing it under his body...] LVK: Ishrinku out on the apron, Stripe heading for the top rope... RP: Did Ishrinku just pick the bat up? [Reaching the middle rope, Stripe looks down at the table that stands between him and victory, as the Screamin' Demon gets to his feet. Stepping over the top rope, the 'Demon Slayer' stands on the second 'buckle *outside* the ring, grabbing Ishrinku by the hair as soon as he's standing. When suddenly...] *THUD!* ['WHAT THE HELL?' POP!!] LVK: OOOOHH!! ISHRINKU SWUNG THE BAT OVER HIS SHOULDER!! RP: OSCURA WASN'T LOOKING!! HE GOT HIT RIGHT IN THE FACE!! [And Ishrinku grabs Stripe by the head, by the crotch, and flings him...] LVK: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH--!! [60,000 people in the Dallas Cotton Bowl gasp collectively as Ishrinku collapses on to the apron with the effort, Stripe flipping off the second turnbuckle, sailing through the air and plunging inexorably towards the final table...] *THUUUUD!* *AAARGHH!* [SHOCKED MEGABUMP POP!!] LVK: OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!! RP: I DON'T BELIEVE IT!! LVK: STRIPE MISSED THE TABLE!! ISHRINKU COULDN'T THROW HIM FAR ENOUGH!! RP: INCHES, VAN KEEL! INCHES! [Stripe arches up off the canvas, in absolute agony with his severely burned and possibly injured back. Ishrinku rises to his knees on the apron, cradling his head in disbelief. Mary, her face still stained bright red from the earlier 'blood mist', risks coming over to check on her fiancee, but doesn't stick around when the 'Demon Boy' slithers off the apron to follow up his offense...] LVK: And they *still keep going*! These two are unbelievable! [Crawling on his hands and knees, Ishrinku drags himself up to his feet using the guardrail, before reaching down and hauling Raya/Stripe up off the mat. In too much pain even to unleash his trademark scream, he applies a laboured facelock, scoops Oscura up, and sets him for the Northern Lights bomb...] RP: Ishrinku's gonna win it! [But Stripe, with everything he's got left, kicks out, slipping over Ishrinku's shoulder and barely managing to keep his footing when he lands. The Screamin' Demon whirls around, and Stripe drives a knee into the gut to double him over, hooks in the facelock, and grabs the fatigues, looking for the implant DDT...] RP: NO! NO! LVK: STRIPE'S GOT HIM HOOKED--!! RP: NO!! ISHRINKU BLOCKS IT!! [And locking his arms around Stripe's waist, Ishrinku drives him back...] *THUD!* *ARGH!* [... and into the edge of the ring apron, spine-first! HEEL POP!!] LVK: These two men can barely even stand up. I'm not convinced either man has got left what it's gonna take to put the other through that seventh table... RP: They're both totally out of it, Van Keel - and this is just turning into an ugly brawl. It looks like a couple of drunks fighting it out over there... [Taking a moment to catch his breath as Stripe yells in silent agony, Ishrinku reaches down, grabs his opponent by the legs, and pushes him up into the ring under the bottom rope. Dragging himself in after him, Ishrinku pulls himself up to the feet using the ropes, and spies the bed of nails across the ring...] LVK: Uh oh... Ishrinku going for that bed of nails, now... [And bringing it back across the ring, he positions it next to the ropes, before reaching down and bringing Stripe up from his hands and knees to a standing position. He facelocks, scoops him upside down, and body slams him on to the bed of nails, extracting another agonised scream and a MASSIVE HEEL/PROTEST POP!!!] LVK: And a hard slam on to the bed of nails! RP: For God's sake, Van Keel - how much longer can this go on for? [The 'Demon Boy' steps out on to the apron. With Stripe lying prone across the bed of nails, he takes a deep breath, grabs the top rope, and leaps forward...] *YEEEEEEEEEEEEARRRRGH!!* [... but finds nobody home! GIGANTIC POP!!] LVK: GOOD GOD - ISHRINKU WENT FOR THE SLINGSHOT SENTON, BUT STRIPE MOVED!! RP: THOSE NAILS INTO THE BACK AGAIN!! [Ishrinku's momentum carries him half-way to his feet, but before he can stagger off to recover, Stripe pulls himself up and snatches him from behind. Ducking down, the 'Demon Slayer' puts his head between the legs of the Screamin' Demon, crosses his arms across his stomach and hoists him up on to his shoulders...] RP: WHAT THE-?! I THOUGHT HIS BACK WAS INJURED?! LVK: WITH EVERYTHING HE'S GOT LEFT, STRIPE IS GOING FOR THE 'EXORCISM'!! RP: NO! LVK: THAT OCEAN CYCLONE SUPLEX HE USED AS A FINISHER BACK IN G-PRO!! [But instead of bridging back into the suplex, Stripe staggers out into the center of the ring. Grunting in agony with his back, he turns to face the ramp-way, before charging the ropes, screaming primally... HUGE ANTICIPATION POP!!] LVK: OH MY GOD!! NO!! NO!! HE CAN'T!! RP: HOLY SH[MEEEP!!]T!! LVK: STRIIIIIIIIIIIIPE--!!! [... and Stripe throws him off his shoulders, over the top rope.] *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *PKRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNNNNCCH!!* [WAKE THE FUCKING MARTIANS ULTRA HARDCORE MEGABUMP MOTHER OF ALL FACE POPS!!~"] RP: HOLY F[MEEEP!]KING SH[MEEEP]! LVK: ISHRINKU WENT HEAD-FIRST THROUGH THAT GLASS BOARD - AND THE TABLE!! *DING! DING! DING!* [And Stripe collapses on to his back with the effort, Ishrinku motionless on the ramp as 'Hang 'Em High' by Waysted (Stripe's old theme music) begins to blast from the PA, barely able to be heard over a massive sustained roar from the Dallas crowd. Mary slides into the ring to check on her battered fiancee...] LVK: STRIPE WITH THAT MODIFIED EXORCISM/LOS MUERTOS FINISHER, OVER THE TOP ROPE! RP: I DON'T F[MEEEP!]ING BELIEVE IT!! DS: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN... THE *WINNER*!!... ... OF THE *DEMON'S! DOZEN! DEATHMATCH*! [POP!!] ... STRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPE!!! [SHAKE THE FOUNDATIONS POP!!] LVK: I have never... *ever*... seen anything like that before in my life. RP: I don't believe it, Van Keel! Is Ishrinku *dead*? LVK: We've got the medics out here tending to the 'Demon Boy' - but both these competitors will be spending tonight in hosptial after this, by my estimation... [The EMTs come rushing down to ringside yet again to tend to the mangled Screamin' Demon, as Happy Ichinawa helps lift the bloodied, burned and battered Stripe up to his feet. Shoving the ref to one side, Stripe wobbles slightly, but manages to keep his footing, a river of blood covering his goateed countenance, grinning wildly at the camera. Apprehensively, Mary touches his shoulder...] [... but is unceremoniously shoved away!] RP: Man! LVK: Stripe shoving Mary away, now... this could be bad news for his fiancee... RP: He's gone off the deep end! Stripe, Raya Oscura, Callan Greenway - whoever the hell he is, he's been pushed over the edge in this match with Ishrinku!! [And, as the 'Demon Boy' is stretchered out by the EMTs, Stripe crawls out of the ring under the bottom rope. Barely able even to stand, Stripe staggers up the ramp with the fans still going wild for him, his fiancee following behind, not entirely sure what she should make of this apprent transformation...] LVK: Fans, your winner - after one of the most brutal, vicious, violent contests this announcer has ever called in his career... the 'Demon Slayer'... *Stripe*. [We fade to the back of the Cotton Bowl, where we see the quiet, dimly lit locker room of the man that many of the 60,000 people are here to see. He sits, alone in the locker room, with his head slightly lowered, as the camera picks up his t-shirt reading "Legend Killer". His hair is damp, and raggedy, falling in front of him. Courtade then slowly lifts his head up, as he glares at the camera.] CC: I didn't think ya had the balls Juan...I really didn't. [Courtade slowly shakes his head.] CC: I mean, after all we went through, I thought that night would be it...I thought the sensation of having barbed wire wrapped around your neck, and me slowly pulling my truck into the distance, dragging you along...nearly _dying_ would be enough. But I'll be damned...it wasn't... [Courtade yet again shakes his head, nearly smiling.] CC: Ya had that nice little song and dance 'bout how crazy you are, and about how little I know about you. You sang that same song a few weeks back when you told the world of what kinda heartless bastard I am, and how you're an innocent man. See Juan, that's the deal...even after every last thing I put you through...you're still runnin' your god damn mouth in my direction. After nearly killing you, after making you _my_ bitch... You're still running your f[BLEEP!]in' mouth... Don't you understand son? This isn't about the business no more. This isn't about reaching a position in this company, to get a bigger paycheck...you tried to end my god damn career...and I'll be damned if I'll sleep until I see you laying in a pool of your own blood... Your mouth finally shut...permanently. [Courtade slowly sits up.] CC: And what you really don't get, and probably never will Juan...is this isn't a game anymore. I'm not some dipshit hack from Tampa, that's leeching off you, attemping to get his name back in the lights. I'm not some baby raping redneck that's been blackballed from this business, looking for that one last chance. See Juan...I'm the same bastard you've heard about in the locker rooms. I'm that same bastard that's gonna walk out into 60,000 people, screaming his name, and won't even blink... 'Cause I'm gonna be lookin' in your soul. That black, heartless soul you got Juan...I'm gonna look at it through your eyes...and yer gonna look at mine. Yer gonna see that inside me? Big ole ass hole son...because I've I had something inside of me, I wouldn't hate you so god damn much, and I wouldn't walk into a ring full of twisted steel. [Courtade begins to walk closer to the camera.] CC: That very twisted steel Juan...it's gonna be like a bad dream revisisted...'cause son, whether you like it or not...yer gonna get busted open tonight. I'm gonna rip your flesh apart, and I'm gonna smile the whole way through. I'm gonna enjoy hearing your scream out in pain, and I'm gonna really enjoy the sound of barbed wire being inserted into your flesh... 'Cause yer arrogant narrow ass wanted this match... And now yer gonna pay... [Courtade closes his eyes.] CC: Pay like ya ain' never paid before... [Courtade re-opens his eyes.] CC: 'Cause son yer entering into a section of hell you never imagined existed. Yer entering into a section of hell that I created, and set up camp...it's my home...and it'll be the one place you'll never forget... Welcome to hell Juan... [Courtade smirks slowly.] CC: You invited yourself...into my home...so allow me to greet you like only I can... [Courtade stops...] CC: By ending you. [Fade back to the ring, and to David Stokes.]] DS: The following match is scheduled for one fall, and is for the WORLD LIGHT-HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! [Pop!] ["Right is Wrong" by the Step Kings blasts over the public address system, as the crowd waits for the arrival of "Sweet Dreams" Shane Destiny and his manager, Roxie.] # Sooner or later we'll butt heads like traffic jams # # That strain our heads like we could never put our plans to the nines # # I made wrong and so did you # # Later than sooner we're stuck # # Just right out of our range # # Leave us guessing even if we could get outta this place # # It sounds like we just gave up # # ....and so the story goes! # [While you hear those lyrics, Shane Destiny appears from the entrance. He's dressed in a pair of long, black tights with his last name down one leg in white, and the image of a spiderweb down the other, also in white. He's wearing black boots with "2SD" lettering the sides, and his wrists are wrapped in black tape. He's also wearing a hooded black boxing robe, with the hood over his head and a spiderweb on the back. Closely following Destiny is his manager, Roxie, who is dressed in a black minidress and high-heeled shoes.] # Right is wrong (back from the other way!) # # Far from gone (just from the other way!) # # Right is wrong (back from the other way!) # # Now I understand # # Everything is falling lately # [Destiny gives Roxie a hug and kiss before entering the ring. He removes his robe and gives it to Roxie, and then begins warming up as his music fades.] DS: Introducing first....hailing from Southern Pines, North Carolina, and weighing 233 pounds.... ...he is accompanied by his manager Roxie.... "SWEET DREAMS" SHAAAAANE DEEEEEEEEEEEEEESTINY!!!! [Face pop!] [The lights dim slightly as "I Stand Alone" by Godsmack begins blasting over the PA. Emerging from the entrance portal, Light Heavyweight title worn around his waist, is none other than Vic Morrison accompanied by new music. Morrison is wearing his usual ring attire as well as an "RCW: Caged Rage 2" T-shirt.] DS: And now, the champion. He hails from West Palm Beach, Florida, weighs 212 pounds, and is the reigning RCW World Light-Heavyweight champion. Here is.... VIIIIIIIC MOOOOOOOOOOOORISOOOOONNNN!!! [Morrison storms towards the ring, the usual vicious glare on his face. Obviously, he's deeply focused on the matter at hand, rather than the fans or anything else in the immediate atmosphere, for that matter.] ___ __ _________________________________________________________________ / __\ /__\ |___ \ / / / \// __) | World Light-Heavyweight Championship! / /___ / _ \ / __/ \____/ \/ \_/ |_____| Vic Morrison (c) \ vs written \ "Sweet Dreams" Shane Destiny by \ Fletch \____________________________________________________________________ *DING DING!!* [Morrison vaults over the ropes into the ring, and charges at Destiny right away, but Destiny is waiting.....] *THUUDD!!* LVK: OOOOOHHH!! Big lariat by Shane Destiny drops the Light-Heavyweight champion! [With the fans cheering loudly, Destiny drags the stunned Morrison to his feet, and pulls him into a standing headscissor. Without even a moment's hesitation, he lifts Morrison up, and then drops him back down....] *THUUDD!!* LVK: POWERBOMB! [He keeps hold though, and lifts Morrison up again, and then drives him into the mat for a second time...] *THUUUDDD!!* LVK: ANOTHER!!! RP: Oh man! He's lifting him up for a third one! [Hoisting Morrison up again, Destiny doesn't drive him back down right away. Instead he turns, walks to the ropes, and throws Morrison over the top rope onto the rampway!] *THUUUUUUUDDDDD!!!* [Big face pop!!] LVK: DEAR GOD!!! A release powerbomb throw out onto the rampway! RP: Morrison's head *bounced* off the rampway - BRUTAL! LVK: Destiny looks more focused than ever before! [Stepping through the ropes out onto the raised rampway, Destiny quickly drags Morrison to his feet, and wrenches him into another standing headscissor. Anticipation pop!] RP: Oh geez - not another powerbomb! [That's exactly what Destiny has in mind, and he easily hoists Morrison skyward for the fourth time in the match. But this time, as he drives Morrison back down, the champ rolls through it, whipping Destiny over with his legs....] *THU-THWAAAAAAAPPPP!!!* [Shock pop!] LVK: OOOOOOHHHH!!! Morrison countered with a huracanrana, sending Destiny crashing down to the ringside floor! RP: Man, what happened to the slow feeling-out process to start a match? These two are pulling out the big stuff right away! [Morrison gets to his feet on the ramp, hunched over while he catches his breath and clears his head. Down on the ringside floor, Destiny gets to his feet, and Morrison runs to the edge of the ramp, and jumps....] *THW-THWAP!* RP: MISSILE DROPKICK FROM THE RAMP!!! LVK: Referee Marc Gioffre is now telling the two wrestlers that they had better get back into the ring, or he's going to count them out! [Morrison climbs to his feet, and rolls Destiny back in under the bottom rope, before climbing in himself. He slows things down by applying a rear headlock, but after a few seconds, Destiny counters with a wristlock, powering up to his feet. He twists the wrist brutally, eliciting grunts of pain from Morrison, but the champ then flips forward, handspringing over and reversing the hold.] RP: Nice reversal! [Transitioning into a hammerlock, Morrison pulls the arm up viciously. But Destiny ducks under, reversing it. Morrison grimaces in pain, and then uses a far less scientific method of escape - ramming his free elbow back into the challenger's face. He spins around, ready to attack, but Destiny simply grabs him and lifts him, before dropping him throatfirst across the top rope! POP!!] LVK: OH! Throatfirst across the top rope goes Morrison! RP: That'll knock the wind out of ya! [Morrison rolls to his knees, clutching at his throat. He then gets to his feet...] LVK: Right hand by Morrison- OH! Blocked by Destiny! *UGH!* *UGH!* *UGH!* LVK: Vicious kneelifts by Destiny! *THUUUDD!!* [Face pop!] LVK: AND A SHORT ARM LARIAT!!! ONE!!!! TWO!!!!! NO! Kickout by Morrison! [Destiny is relentless, pulling Morrison straight back to his feet, and applying a front chancery. He then easily hoists Morrison skyward....] LVK: Vertical suplex, and Destiny is holding him up there! Great strength! [The fans start to cheer for the display, when Destiny drops back and drops Morrison straight down....] *THUUUUDDDD!!!* LVK: BRAINBUSTER!!!!! ONE!!!! TWO!!!!! THR-NO! Two and a half! RP: He spiked him right on his head! [Slowly getting back to their feet, the two wrestlers face off again. Destiny strikes first, nailing the groggy champion with a series of short, sharp kneestrikes to the chest and face. But Morrison counters with a quick rake of the eyes. BOO!] RP: Greco-Roman eyerake! [Following up, Morrison pushes Destiny's eyes down onto the top rope, and scrapes them along it! BOO! Destiny staggers away from the ropes, blindly clutching at his face, and Morrison stalks after him, before striking....] *THWAAAACK!!!* RP: HOLY COW!! What an enzuigiri!! LVK: Vicious! [Morrison rolls to his feet, and jabs a thumb towards himself arrogantly. BOO! Not liking the reaction of the crowd, Morrison leans over the ropes, yelling at one fan in particular, and then spitting at him!] RP: Come on Vic, keep focussed! [Morrison then smiles and turns back around....not knowing that Destiny is back to his feet and standing behind him! The fans POP as Destiny grabs hold of Morrison....] *THUUDDD!!!* [Big face pop!!] LVK: T-BONE SUPLEX!!!! [Morrison goes skidding across the mat and rolls under the bottom rope, thudding to the floor unceremoniously. Destiny rolls to his feet and climbs through the ropes to the apron in pursuit, dropping down with an elbow across the back of the head as Morrison gets to his hands and knees. He then drags Morrison back up....] LVK: Destiny....whips Mor-NO! Reversed! *KAH-LAANNKKK!!* [Sympathy pop!] RP: Backfirst into the railing goes Destiny! OUCH! LVK: OH! And a front kick to the head! [As the referee's count reaches six, Morrison rolls back into the ring, breaking the count. He gets to his feet and again does a bit of showboating, holding his arms out as if to say "how do you like me now?". BOO! Obviously not much.] LVK: Vic Morrison showing plenty of arrogance tonight. RP: Why shouldn't he? He beat Raya Oscura to win the title, and since then he's been untouchable! LVK: He hasn't won this match just yet! [Destiny gets to his feet, and rolls onto the apron, looking to get back into the ring. But Morrison has other ideas. He runs across the ring and dives into a baseball slide....] *THWACK!* *THWAP!* LVK: Destiny sent back to the floor by a baseball slide dropkick! [Morrison immediately climbs back to his feet, and backs off, across the ring. He stands catching his breath for a second, and then turns to see Destiny getting to his feet at ringside. In the blink of an eye Morrison turns and runs....] LVK: MOOOOOOOORISSOOOONNN!!! [Just before he reaches the ropes, Morrison flips forwards, landing on one hand and springing into the air. He soars over the ropes, flipping over backwards, and lands heavily on Destiny in an upside down position! HUGE HIGHSPOT POP!!!] RP: SWEET SASSY MOLASSEY! LVK: A HANDSPRING MOONSAULT BODYBLOCK SUICIDAAAAHHHHH!!!! [The fans continue to cheer as Morrison and Destiny recover on the ringside floor.] LVK: What an incredible feat of agility by the Light-Heavyweight champion! RP: Morrison's back to his feet! [Shaking off the effects of a hard landing, Morrison stomps away at Destiny's back a few times, and then pulls him to his feet. Lining up the ringpost, Morrison whips him....] *CLANK!* LVK: Shoulderfirst into the steel ringpost! That might have done some serious damage to Shane Destiny's right shoulder! [Rolling Destiny back into the ring, Morrison vaults up onto the apron. He stands, waiting for Destiny to get up, and then slingshots himself up onto the top rope. But amazingly, he turns during the slingshot movement, so that he lands on the top rope facing out of the ring. He springboards, and turns back another 180 degrees, grabbing Destiny's head and using the twisting momentum to swing around and drive Destiny headfirst into the mat!] *THUUUUUDDDDD!!!* [WTF HIGHSPOT POP!!!] RP: HOLY CRAP!! WHAT WAS THAT?! LVK: A variation on a springboard tornado DDT, but unlike anything I've *ever* seen before! RP: HERE'S THE COVER!! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!! THREE- LVK: NOOOOO!!!! ONLY TWO!!! [FACE POP!!] RP: Close! Damn close! [Morrison rolls to his feet, and then takes hold of Destiny's left arm, before dropping down into a cross armbreaker hold! PANIC POP!] LVK: OH! MORRISON TRYING TO GET THAT JUJIGATAME LOCKED ON TIGHT!! RP: Say what? LVK: A jujigatame! Cross armbreaker! [But Destiny fights it, holding his hands together and trying not to let Morrison get them apart. He rolls over, climbing to his feet with his arms still locked in the grasp of Morrison, who now finds himself on his back. Destiny then heaves, lets out a roar of effort, and lifts....] LVK: OH MY GOD! [He lifts Morrison clean off the mat, the champion clinging to the left arm. It almost looks like a powerbomb lift, but Destiny then swings Morrison over into a fireman's carry, and in a flash jumps and drops to the side....] *THUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDD!!!!* [BIG FACE/HIGHSPOT POP!!!] LVK: DEATH VALLEY DRIVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!! RP: OH DAMN!! HE SPIKED HIM!! SPIKED HIS HEAD RIGHT INTO THE DAMN MAT!!! LVK: COVER!! ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEE- [?] [Disappointment pop!] RP: NO! He kicked out!! [Marc Gioffre holds two fingers up, signalling that Morrison did indeed kick out just in the nick of time. Destiny drops to one knee, trying to shake off the effects of exhaustion and the toll of the match. He then climbs back to his feet, and slowly drags Morrison back up to a vertical base. He takes Morrison over to the nearest corner, and lifts him up onto the top turnbuckle.] LVK: The action going to the top rope for the first time in this match! [Morrison is left sitting on the top turnbuckle facing out of the ring, his head slumped forward as he feels the effects of the devastating Death Valley Driver. Morrison climbs up as well, and hooks his legs over the top rope, while applying a rear waistlock...] LVK: OH BOY!! We know what this move is! [Destiny then lifts Morrison up and falls backwards....] RP: SPIDER GERM- [Shock pop!] LVK: WHOA! MORRISON FLIPPED OVER AND LANDED ON HIS FEET!!! RP: OH MAN! And Destiny is left dangling upside down in the corner! His legs are still caught up in the ropes! [Morrison turns and then runs full speed at Destiny, dropping down into a baseball slide...] *THWAAACCKK!!!* [STIFF SHOT POP!!] LVK: MY GOD!!! WHAT A DROPKICK TO THE FACE!!!! RP: The Spider German suplex sure backfired on Destiny!' [Marc Gioffre rushes into the corner and unhooks Destiny's legs, the challenger rolling to the mat with a thud, and then rolling out to the floor!] RP: Destiny's looking for any break from the action he can get! [Using the ring apron, Destiny slowly pulls himself to his feet, clearly still in a daze from the hard shot to the face. He doesn't see Morrison coming though, and the champ jumps up, grabs the top rope with both hands, and slices his legs between the middle and top ropes....] *THWACK!* [...dropkicking Destiny! He then pulls himself back through and drops to his feet in the ring!] LVK: What an innovative move by Vic Morrison! He's out to impress tonight! [Then in one motion, Morrison leaps to the top turnbuckle. As Destiny climbs to his feet at ringside, Morrison leaps, flipping over backwards through the air and coming crashing down on Destiny impossibly hard....] *THA-THWAAAPP!!!* [DEAFENING HIGHSPOT POP!!!!] RP: HOLY GODDAMN SHIZNIT!!! LVK: A SHOOTING STAR PRESS FROM THE TOP ROPE TO THE OUTSIDE!!! INCREDIBLE!!! RP: You can't get much more high-risk than that! If Morrison had missed, he would broken his goddamn neck! [Climbing back to his feet, Morrison rolls Destiny in and climbs in after him. He pulls Destiny to his feet in the middle of the ring, and starts locking on a cobra clutch!] RP: OH YEAH!! VIC-TIMIZER COMING UP!! [But Destiny doesn't let him get it locked on, ducking underneath and behind. He then wraps his arms around Morrison's waist and lifts....] *THUUUDD!!!* [FACE POP!!!] LVK: BACKDROP SUPLEX!!!!!! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!! THRE-NOOO!!! Kickout by Morrison!! RP: Luckily for Vic, he didn't land right on his head. If that'd been done dangerous-style, there's no way he would have kicked out! LVK: A good point! [Both wrestlers get back to their feet, both looking drowzy and out of it. Destiny nails Morrison with a kick to the gut, and then pulls him into a standing headscissor. In a flash he hoists Morrison skyward, but Morrison counters.....] *THUUUUDD!!!* LVK: OH! Morrison counters the powerbomb with a guillotine facedriver!! [Both wrestlers stay down, Morrison on his stomach, and Destiny on his back, his glazed-over eyes staring up at the light towers and night sky.] LVK: Both wrestlers down now, and for the first time we're seeing a break in the frenetic action of this fast-paced match! RP: I'll say it's fast-paced! They both came roaring out of the blocks and have thrown everything at each other! LVK: They've fought to something of a stalemate right now! [Slowly they both get to their feet, and Morrison lunges at Destiny with a clothesline attempt. Destiny ducks it though, and grabs Morrison from behind, crossing the champ's arms across his chest and pulling back on his hands.....] *THUUUUUUUUUDDD!!!* [HIGHSPOT POP!!!] RP: HOLY GUACAMOLE!! WHAT A SUPLEX!!! LVK: A variation on a German suplex, called an Aztec suplex! RP: Destiny didn't have the strength to bridge it, but he's covering now! ONE!!!! TWO!!!!!! THR-NO! [Again they both roll to their feet, although Morrison is a bit slower, and is clutching at the back of his head. Destiny grabs him by the arm and whips him, but Morrison reverses it, sending Destiny into the far corner, following close behind him. Destiny hits the turnbuckles, and a split second later....] *THWAACCCKKK!!* LVK: JUMPING KNEESTRIKE INTO THE CORNER!! [He quickly grabs Destiny the arm and whips him across to the other corner, but doesn't follow after him right away. Destiny hits the turnbuckles, and then Morrison runs from the opposite corner towards him. But Destiny rumbles out of his corner, and grabs Morrison as he runs, using his momentum to snap him over to the mat hard....] *THUUUUUDDDDD!!!* LVK: OOOHHH!!! DESTINY COUNTERS WITH A SNAP OVERHEAD BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!!! RP: WOWZA! LVK: What impact and speed on that move! [Destiny rolls to his feet, and drags the wobbly-legged Morrison up, applying a gutwrench set-up, and then lifting...] LVK: GUTWRE-NO! Morrison flipped over and landed on his feet! *KAH-THWAAPP!!* RP: And he dropkicks Destiny from the ring! [Climbing back to his feet, and taking a moment to regain his bearings, Morrison then starts to climb up to the top turnbuckle. ANTICIPATION POP!] LVK: Morrison's going up top - OH! But Destiny is climbing up onto the apron! RP: Not just onto the apron! DESTINY'S CLIMBING UP THE CORNER FROM THE OUTSIDE!!! [The fans cheer like crazy as Morrison reaches the top, and Destiny makes it to the middle turnbuckle from the outside. Morrison turns, and without hesitation, leaps, flipping over Destiny's back, and dragging him down with a sunset flip. Destiny rolls through, and comes crashing down onto the ringside floor backfirst....] *THWAAAAAAPPPPPPP!!!!!!* [SHOCK POP!!!] RP: SUNSET FLIP POWERBOMB FROM THE TOP ROPE TO THE OUTSIDE!!! AWESOME!!! LVK: DESTINY HIT THE RINGSIDE FLOOR INCREDIBLY HARD!!! [Morrison rolls away from Destiny, and slumps facefirst to the ringside floor in exhaustion. He then uses the apron to pull himself back to his feet, and drags Destiny up, rolling him back into the ring.] LVK: Back into the ring now, and here comes the cover by Morrison! RP: This'll do it! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEE- [FACE POP!!!] LVK: NOOOOOO!!! ONLY TWO!! RP: Dammit! [Morrison gets to his feet, looking at Marc Gioffre with a look of frustrated anger. He then leaves Destiny down on the mat, and makes his way to the nearest corner...] LVK: MORRISON'S GOING BACK TO THE TOP!! RP: He's gonna finish it for good this time! [Morrison makes it to the top, and crouches, poised. Destiny slowly gets up from the mat, shaking his head in a daze, and then turns, as Morrison leaps....] LVK: MOOOOOOOOORRRISSOOOOOOONNNNN!!!! [....landing on Destiny's shoulders in a huracanrana position. But as soon as he lands, Destiny grabs hold of him, and rushes back towards the corner, throwing the champ so that the back of his head collides heavily with the top turnbuckle at full speed!] [DEAFENING SHOCK POP!!!!] RP: GREAT GOOGILY MOOGILY!!! LVK: A POWERBOMB RIGHT ONTO THE TOP TURNBUCKLE!!! INCREDIBLE!!! RP: MORRISON'S GOTTA BE UNCONSCIOUS!!! [Destiny doesn't cover though. Instead he drags Morrison away from the corner, rolls him over onto his stomach, crouches into a sitting position on his back, and pulls him into a camel clutch. The fans POP in anciticipation, and Destiny then locks on a dragon sleeper to complete the hold!] LVK: DESTINY STRANGLE!!! HE HAS IT LOCKED ON!!! A NEW CHAMPION IS ABOUT TO BE CROWNED!!! [The crowd rises with a LOUD FACE POP as Destiny pulls back on the dragon sleeper, his teeth clenched in determination. Morrison immediately starts to scream in pain, his arms flailing wildly.] LVK: Is he going to tap? How much of this can Morrison take?! [Morrison lunges for the ropes, but misses! POP! He tries again, but this time his right hand comes to rest on the bottom rope! Disappointment pop!] RP: He made the ropes! Woohoo! [But Destiny isn't going to be denied. He lets go, grabs hold of Morrison's legs, and drags him into the center of the ring! With the fans going wild again, he sits down, and starts to pull Morrison into a camel clutch!] LVK: HE'S GOING TO PUT IT ON AGAIN - IN THE CENTER OF THE RING!! [But out of desperation, Morrison rolls sideways, and swings his right elbow back and across, catching Destiny hard on the side of the head. He tips and falls facefirst to the mat! SHOCK POP!!] RP: HOLY COW!! What an elbowshot!! LVK: Luckily for Morrison - because otherwise it was going to be all over! [Morrison rolls over and springs to his feet, fired up and pumping his fists. Destiny also rolls to his feet, and Morrison charges....] *THUUUUUDDDD!!!* [FACE POP!!!!] LVK: GOOD GOD!!! DESTINY WITH A *HUGE* LARIAT!!! RP: He's covering! LVK: WILL IT BE ENOUGH?!? ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEEEE- [?] RP: NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! KICK OUT AT TWO AND NINE-TENTHS!!!! [LOUD DISAPPOINTMENT POP!!!] LVK: The champ survives for now, but he's in a bad, bad way! Shane Destiny can almost taste victory! [After catching his breath and clearing his head for a few seconds, Destiny hoists Morrison up onto the top turnbuckle, so that he is facing out of the ring. He then climbs up to the second rope, pushing his head under Morrison's left armpit. But Morrison senses danger, and lashes out with a big back elbow....] *THUUUDDD!!* LVK: OH! Destiny was going for a backdrop suplex from the top, but Morrison elbowed him back to the mat! [Destiny immediately rolls to his feet though, and climbs back up, as Morrison quickly spins around to face into the ring. Destiny stuns the champ with a couple of punches to the gut, and climbs higher, while pulling Morrison onto his shoulders. HUGE ANTICIPATION POP!!!] RP: HOLY CRAP!!! HE HAS MORRISON IN A FIREMAN'S CARRY ON THE TOP ROPE!!! [Destiny climbs to his feet on the top rope, but Morrison starts to wriggle free, and drops to his feet, precariously landing on the top turnbuckle behind Destiny. In a flash, Morrison grabs Destiny and locks on a cobra clutch, before lifting Destiny and jumping away from the corner.....] RP: ARGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!! [SHAKE THE FOUNDATIONS SHOCK POP!!!!] LVK: GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY!!!! THE VIC-TIMIZER FROM THE TOP ROPE!!! RP: I DON'T FREAKIN' BELIEVE IT!!! WHAT A MOVE!!! LVK: DESTINY WAS DRIVEN FACEFIRST INTO THE MAT FROM GREAT HEIGHT BY THE COBRA CLUTCH LEGSWEEP MANEUVER!!! AND NOW MORRISON IS COVERING!!! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *DING DING DING!!!* [The crowd stays pretty much silent, only a few fans giving a WORKRATE POP. Morrison rolls off of Destiny and climbs the turnbuckles, his arms thrown in the air, and finally a smallish HEEL POP rings around the stadium.] DS: Your winner....and *STILL* WORLD LIGHT-HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION.... VIIIIIC MOOOOOOOOOOOORRISSOOOOOOOOOONNNN!! [Roxie slides into the ring with a look of concern on her face, as she checks on Destiny, while Morrison is handed his title belt.] LVK: A strong showing by both wrestlers, who really held absolutely nothing back, but in the end it was Vic Morrison coming through with the close-fought win! RP: Vic just showed us why he *has* to be considered among the best light-heavyweights in the world right now. If not *the* best! LVK: Indeed, I'd have to agree with you there. Well fans, it's time for us to take a break. We'll be right back! [Cut to commercials.] [We're back from the commercials, and right into an aerial shot from high above the Cotton Bowl stadium. We see glimpses of the city lights surrounding the historic sporting venue, with the Cotton Bowl itself glimmering like a centerpiece. Then we cut to the ring.] *It is better to die on your feet... than to live on your knees...* [The voice of Elquesa Hervez, the mantra of the Zapatistas. 'Cosmonaut' comes to life, screaming over the PA with the classic freight-train momentum of At The Drive-In. The lights are turned up to an unbearable brightness that's almost like water to squint and see through.] # we sample from the shelves # tore a page out from this chapter # deface the essays in the book that you're reading # we are the leeches that stop the bleeding # deficit attention program # by any means necessary # blare sirens to the library # whisper instructions to the book-worm glossary # is it heavier than air- tell us, is the black box lying? [Picked out by a single spotlight, Vespasian Reed half-stumbles out of the entrance portal. He's dressed in his simple ring attire of brown slacks, plain white sneakers, and a blue 'FAKE' t-shirt. World Tag Title belt dangles loosely from his grip. With no use for pomp or showmanship, despite the huge pop that greets him, he scratches the back of his wild, black mess of hair modestly, tugs at his earlobe, and continues right on down the walkway...] [Following Reed is his partner - Elquesa Hervez. Hervez is decked out in his usual ring attire of black pants, complete with belt and black wrestling boots, and a blue t-shirt with the moniker (Dismissed). Hervez's long dreadlocked hair is tied back into a ponytail, while a few loose 'locks streams down his face in black vine-like tendrils. Over his shoulder is slung the tag team title belt, sparking under the fierce arena lights.] DS: The following match is scheduled for one fall, and is for the WORLD TAGTEAM CHAMPIONSHIP! AT A COMBINED WEIGHT OF 465 POUNDS!!.. THE RCW WORLD TAG-TEAM CHAMPIONS!!.. ... VESPASIAN REED! ELQUESA HERVEZ! ... ... CULTUUUUUUUUUUUURE!! JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!! [Crossing both arms across his chest, Reed pulls the t-shirt over his head and throws it down, exposing a physique that's well honed despite his small frame. Approaching the ring cautiously, he rolls in under the bottom rope and gets up to his feet. Hervez pulls himself onto the apron, steps between the ropes and travels across the ring to his team's corner. In a tribute to his family and religion, he bows his head and crosses his chest in the traditional Catholic way.] # aeronautics hacked # the spine of paragraphs # prepare to indent, a coma that read- # floating in a soundproof costume # here comes the monolith # brass knuckles for the hissie fit # an abbreviation for the landing of fleets # incoming # is it heavier than air- tell us, is the black box lying? [The music dies, the lights return to normal. Reed holds a microphone.] VR: No, uh... no easy ways out. Not tonight. RP: What? What the hell is this punkhead talking about..? LVK: Ssssh! [He can't take his eyes off the mat.] VR: We asked for there to be, uh... no disqualifications, here. [CROWD POP!!] LVK: No disqualification?! RP: Ha! The Idols'll wipe the floor with these punks! [A pause. He hands the microphone to Hervez.] EH: We want to win this match... _clean_. Culture Jam want to end this here, _tonight_... without anything getting in our way. [He walks over to the ropes, and hands the mic to a ring attendant. Reed backs away into a corner, and Hervez strides over for a quick pre-match conference.] LVK: The tag team champions with a rather bold challenge, making this match no disqualifications. RP: Big mistake. The Idols may be amateur wrestlers at heart, but they know every trick in the book. LVK: What book is this? RP: The Unwritten Book of Wrestling. LVK: Ooohh. [The sound system comes alive with mellow techno beats and soft whispering...] #I hate you...# #I hate you...# *HEEL POP!* [Suddenly the sound system damn near blows up...] #SHUT UP!!!# [...as "What Comes Around" by Ill Nino explodes over the arena loudspeakers, bringing a hateful booing from the crowd as The American Idols, "All American" Jacob Owens and "Top Notch" Zach Young come sauntering out from behind the curtains, clad in their wrestling gear of red, white and blue singlets and of course, proudly displaying the EWA tag belts around their waists...] DS: : Introducing their opponents, making their way to the ring, at a total combined weight of 440 pounds..."ALL AMERICAN" JACOB OWENS...."TOP NOTCH" ZACH YOUNG... THE AMERICAN IDOLS!!! [EXTRA HEEL POP! The Idols saunter down the looking quite proud of themselves as they pat the belts around their waists and make sure everybody in the arena sees that they are wearing them. The ever-present smirks on their faces as they look out at the crowd condescendingly. Half way down the aisle, the Idols see that the tag champs are waiting for them...and it's on!] [POP!] LVK: THE AMERICAN IDOLS CHARGE DOWN THE AISLE AND CULTURE JAM IS WAITING FOR THEM!! RP: Here we go Van Keel! Strap yourself in! LVK: No disqualification for the World Tag Team Titles! ___ __ _________________________________________________________________ / __\ /__\ |___ \ / / / \// __) | NO-DISQUALIFICATION MATCH! / /___ / _ \ / __/ for the World Tagteam Championship \____/ \/ \_/ |_____| \ Culture Jam (c) written \ vs by \ American Idols Andy \____________________________________________________________________ *DING DING DING* [Vespasian Reed and Zach Young stay in the aisle, trading fists as Elquesa Hervez throws Jacob Owens into the ring. Young gets the better of the exchange and whips Vespasian to the guardrail... "KLAAAAAAAAACCKKK!!" ...then rushes in after him and grabs ahold of Reed's head, ramming it into the guardrail again! HEEL POP! "Top Notch" grabs a front facelock and picks Vespasian up, suplexing him onto the guardrail, family jewels first! HEEL POP!] LVK: Zach Young lays in an elbow to the head of Reed and hops onto the apron, raising his arm to the crowd as they voice their disapproval! RP: Pffffft, like these schmucks know anything. LVK: Young turns around and races off the apron- "THWAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKK!!!" "OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" [NICE MOVE POP!] LVK: INCREDIBLE! VESPASIAN REED MANAGED TO STRAIGHTEN HIMSELF OUT AND SPRINGBOARD OFF THE GUARDRAIL, DROPKICKING ZACH YOUNG IN THE STOMACH AS HE JUMPED OFF THE APRON!! RP: Holy frickin' jumpin Jesus, these guys aren't wasting any time! LVK: In the ring, Elquesa Hervez drops Jake Owens with a vicious right hand while Zach Young rolls in the ring, getting to his feet. He turns around... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!!!" RP: SWEET JAY-SUS! LVK: ...right into a snap spinebuster from Hervez! Not a minute in and Zach Young is already taking a lickin'! RP: In the figurative sense of the term. [Vespasian Reed slides into the ring himself and takes to stomping on Young, but he doesn't see Jacob Owens sneak up behind him, grab a rear waistlock and snap back... "THUUUUUUUDDD!!" ...with a wicked German suplex! Vespasian is quick to his feet and he charges the "All-American" but Owens catches the young Reed with an overhead belly to belly that sends Vespasian crashing way across the ring. Owens congratulates himself and consequently does _not_ see Elquesa Hervez charging toward him...] "WHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMM!!!" [BIG POP!] LVK: SPEAR! A HIGH SPEAR BY HERVEZ SENDS BOTH HE AND JACOB OWENS TUMBLING OUTSIDE!! RP: What a crappy way to start the match! LVK: This match is all over the place, but Zach Young and Vespasian Reed are in the ring, and perhaps we'll get some order. RP: That's no fun either. LVK: Zach Young with forearms to the head of Reed and he sends Reed for the ride-REVERSED! STANDING LEAPFROG TO THE TOP ROPE, MOONSAULT BODYBL- "THUUUUUUUUUUDDDD!!" RP: Ahhhh! Crappola! LVK: NOBODY HOME! Reed moved! He gets to his feet-- [FINISHER POP!] LVK: SNAKECHARMER!! RP: But Zach grabs the ropes! Thank Buddha for ring positioning! LVK: A bit of quick thinking from "Top Notch" Zach Young, or this match would have been over in a hurry! RP: That's debatable. LVK: Reed to his feet, measuring up Zach Young for a Savate kick-ducked! Reed spins around, into a kick to the gut... RP: KICK WHAM STUNNER! LVK: ...into a three quarter neckbreaker! [With Reed temporarily dazed Zach Young slips outside and grabs a chair, folding it up and sliding in as Vespasian gets to his feet. Zach swings the chair but the youngster dives with a dropkick to the knee that makes Young fall flat on his face. Vespasian waves for his partner to come in as he stands Zach back up.] LVK: Hervez back in, lining Young up... "THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKK!!!" "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDD!!!" [POP!] LVK: ...AND CULTURE JAM STRIKES WITH A COMBINATION LARIAT AND LEG SWEEP! RP: Zach got some serious air time right there, he got freakin' launched. LVK: Elquesa Hervez takes over, bringing Young to his feet and hooking him...head and arms suplex! He tossed Zach Young with that move! RP: Damn chocolate belts. LVK: Hervez picks up Young by his hair and turns him around, grabbing a double chickenwing.... "THUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!!!" [POP!] LVK: ...and _launching_ Zach Young with a Tiger suplex! [On a roll, the dreadlocked one doubles over Zach Young and underhooks both of his arms. Young quickly squirms out of it and sweeps the legs of Hervez, hooking Elquesa's ankles under his arms and plunging back with a catapult, sending Hervez flying into the American Idol corner, and thus a lunging right hand from Jacob Owens! HEEL POP! Young scrambles to his feet and races to the opposite ropes, jumping onto the second strand and springing off, swinging his feet up and catching Vespasian Reed by surprise with a dropkick!] RP: Here we go! Now we're startin' to roll boys! LVK: Vespasian Reed goes crashing to the guardrail, and now Jacob Owens has Elquesa Hervez on his shoulder as Zach Young gets to the top rope. Owens turns around, facing away from Young... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDD!!!!" [BIG HEEL POP!] RP: YES! SUPER BULLDOG ON HERVEZ! LVK: COVER BY ZACH YOUNG... ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! T-REED PULLS YOUNG OUT OF THE RING! [POP!] RP: Damn that meddling punk! LVK: Reed and Young resume their fisticuffs outside as Jacob Owens has Elquesa Hervez picked up, in position for... "THUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!!" [HEEL POP!] RP: Booyah! Piledriver and boy was it a beaut! LVK: Zach Young gets rid of Vespasian Reed and climbs to the top rope... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDD!!!!" LVK: South Carolina Jam! RP: Zach with the cover... LVK: ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KICKOUT BY HERVEZ! [POP!] [On the outside Vespasian Reed has folded up a chair and is about to head into the ring, right as Zach Young comes flying at him... "CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNKKKKKK!!" ...and baseball slide dropkicks the chair back into the youngster's face! HEEL POP! Jacob Owens goes outside and hands Young the chair, who pivots and swings... "WHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!" ...drilling Elquesa Hervez in the back with the chair! BIGGER HEEL POP!] LVK: THE AMERICAN IDOLS HAVE OBLITERATED THE TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!! RP: Hey hey, check out what's going on now! LVK: Jacob Owens has Vespasian Reed in position for a powerbomb and Zach Young is climbing the top rope. You don't think-- RP: Yes! We're gonna see Raising the Standard on the _outside_ of the ring! LVK: Zach Young is to the top! [MAJOR POP!] LVK: HERVEZ IS BACK UP! HE CHARGES AT THE UNSUSPECTING YOUNG... "CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" RP: HOLY JESUS FRICKIN' JUMPIN' ON TUESDAY! LVK: HERVEZ PUSHED ZACH YOUNG OFF THE TOP ROPE AND YOUNG WENT CRASHING INTO THE GUARDRAIL AND LANDED IN THE AUDIENCE! RP: He's hurt...he's hurt bad! LVK: Jacob Owens just saw what happened... "THUUUUUD!" [POP!] LVK: And Reed backdrops out of the vertical headscissors! Vespasian brings Owens to his feet by his arm and heads for the ringpost... "THUUUUUUNNNNKKK!!" LVK: Right into the pole! [But Vespasian doesn't let go and instead slings Jake to the steps... "CRAAAAAAAAAAASSSSHHHHH!!!" ...sending the All American shoulder first into the steeeeeeel steps, and eliciting quite the holler of pain from Owens.] LVK: Vespasian Reed does substantial damage to the shoulder of Jake Owens and rolls him into the ring, looking for an opportunity to capitalize. RP: Look who it is Van Keel, it's Reed...the rookie. He couldn't capitalize on a passed out whore with a neon sign pointing to her crotch. LVK: The wit and wisdom of Rick Perle, ladies and gentleman. RP: Tip the waiter, I'll be here all week. LVK: Back in the ring, Reed plants a waistlock on Owens and shoves his head under his arm... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!!!" LVK: Release Northern Lights suplex, masterfully done! RP: Reed tossed Jake just so, that Owens' bad shoulder hit the mat first. As much as I hate to admit it, that's impressive. LVK: The learning curve of Vespasian Reed is remarkable, he seems to pick up things very quickly. RP: Blah. LVK: Reed now goes to the top rope and gets- RP: ZACH! "CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" [HOLY SHITBALLS POP!] RP: HOT DAMN! LVK: ZACH YOUNG POPPED UP FROM NOWHERE AND SHOVED REED OFF THE TOP ROPE, SENDING HIM PLUMMETING TO THE RINGSIDE FLOOR! RP: Learning curve my ass! LVK: "Top Notch" Zach Young quickly ascends the top rope.... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDD!!!!" [HOLY MOTHER OF HIGHSPOTS POP!] "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" "R-C-DUB!" RP: ..... LVK: UNBELIEVABLE! ZACH YOUNG WITH A SPLASH FROM THE TOP ROPE TO THE _OUTSIDE_, SMASHING VESPASIAN REED INTO THE GROUND! RP: Jesus God, this is getting nuts. [In the ensuing madness of the preceeding spectacle, no one notices Elquesa Hervez propping himself on the second rope as Jacob Owens gets to his feet. Owens turns around, doing something that may resemble the watusi, and stumbles into a second rope shoulderblock by Hervez! POP! The dreadlocked warrior picks Jacob up, quickly hooking him and spinning into a brutal uranage! POP!] LVK: Elquesa pulls Owens up, into a full nelson... "OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" RP: DING! LVK: Low blow! A shot to the groin frees Jacob Owens, who slips behind Hervez and hooks his head... "THUUUUUUDDD!!" RP: Snapping into a side Russian legsweep! LVK: Now Jacob lines up the downed champion.. "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKK!!" LVK: AND DRIVES A KNEE INTO THE FACE OF ELQUESA HERVEZ! [Hervez crumples to the mat as attention quickly shifts to the outside where Zach Young sneak attacks a recovering Vespasian Reed, ramming him into the guardrail! HEEL POP! Young takes a few steps back and then goes into a sprint, lunging with a clothesline that flips the younger member of Culture Jam over the barricade and into the crowd! Reed ends up in the aisle as Young hops into the crowd and trots toward Vespasian, but Zach is met by an unkind fist to the groin that doubles him over! POP!] RP: Hey! Cheating, cheating! LVK: Vespasian Reed fights fire with fire and lessens Zach Young's chance to reproduce by just a little, and now floors him with a vicious uppercut! RP: What's he doing now, where's he going?! LVK: Reed throws Zach Young up the stairway, kicking him up the Cotton Bowl steps! RP: Oh _no_! "CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNGGGGG!!!" [BIG HEEL POP!] RP: What the hell...?! LVK: Chairshot to the head of Elquesa Hervez! "CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNGGGGG!!!" [BIGGER HEEL POP!] LVK: AND ANOTHER! NO ONE NOTICED THAT JACOB OWENS HAD GOTTEN THAT CHAIR, ALL THE ATTENTION WAS DIVERTED INTO THE AISLE! [As Reed and Young brawl in the crowd, Jacob Owens throws down the chair and drags Hervez over to it, applying a quick vertical headscissors and lifting up... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDD!!!" ...then abruptly dropping into a piledriver! HUGE HEEL POP!] LVK: SWEET JESUS, HERVEZ IS DECIMATED! HIS HEAD AND NECK HAVE TO BE CRUSHED! Now where the hell is he going?! RP: He's hopping the guardrail! Looks like he's gonna go find Reed and Zach Young. LVK: I have word that one of our camera crews has caught up with the aforementioned duo, let's cut to them! [The RiverTron lights up to show Vespasian Reed and Zach Young trading right hands near the concession stand! HUGE POP! Reed gets the better of the exchange and grabs a hold of the smaller Zach, whipping him into the concession stand! "THUUUD!" Zach hits backfirst and falls to the ground into a sitting position, in perfect position for... "KAAA-RAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKK!!!" ...a running knee to the face from Vespasian Reed! BIG POP!] LVK: Stiff knee to the face by Reed, who grabs ahold of Young's head... "THUNK!" "THUNK!" "THUNK!" "THUNK!" [BIG FACE POP!] LVK: ...AND RAMS ZACH'S HEAD INTO THE STAND, BLOODYING UP THE CHALLENGER! RP: Watch out Zach, cover that cut up! You might get malaria from these hicks! LVK: Reed backs up and measures Young.... "THUUUUUUUUUUUDDDD!!" RP: HA! He moved, Zach Young moved! LVK: Vespasian Reed went for that Yakuza kick but missed terribly! Zach Young gets to his feet as Reed turns around...hurricanrana on the concrete! RP: Nice move right there. [HEEL POP!] LVK: Jacob Owens! He finally found the brawl and he drives a knee to the head of Vespasian Reed. RP: Hehehe, and Milli Vanilli is nowhere in sight. LVK: Owens pulls Vespasian Reed up and into a vertical headscissors, he lifts... "THUUUU-WHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKK!!!" [MASSIVE HEEL POP!] LVK: DEAR GOD! A combination powerbomb/neckbreaker by the American Idols that devastates young Vespasian Reed! [The Idols don't stop there as Jacob pulls Reed into another vertical headscissors and lifts, as Zach Young grabs the legs, and together they drop... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDD!!!" in a wicked spiked piledriver! HUGE HEEL POP! The challengers don't give Reed a moment to rest, standing Vespasian up and leaning him against the concession stand. Somehow the youngster keeps himself up as Owens gets down on his hands and knees about three feet away, and Zach Young comes racing forward...bounding off the back of his partner and lunging at Reed with a perfect high cross body... "CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSHHHHHHH!!" ...that Reed ducks, leaving Zach to fly over the counter and land with a clatter! POP!] LVK: Quick thinking by Vespasian Reed, who now has Jake Owens by the hair... "CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSHHHHHHH!!" LVK: ...AND HE THROWS HIM OVER THE COUNTER AS WELL!! "CRAAAAAACK!" RP: What the hell was that?! LVK: A BEER BOTTLE! ZACH YOUNG THREW A BEER BOTTLE AT REED! RP: And now Owens has one, he winds up... [POP!] LVK: REED CAUGHT IT! RP: POLICE! UNDERAGE DRINKING! "THUUUUUNK!" RP: But the little bastard couldn't dodge that one! Hahaha! LVK: That glass bottle drilled Reed right in the noggin, and Owens hurdles over the counter, bottle in hand... "CRAAAAASSSHHH!!" [HEEL POP!!] RP: ...and shatters the bottle over Reed's head! Rock! LVK: Zach Young is crouching on the counter, ready to jump... "THUUUUUUUUDDDD!!" LVK: ...into a Tornado DDT! [Reed's flat on his back and looks like hell, and in that instant Zach Young spots a small, unmanned soft pretzel stand. He alerts his partner and together they lift Vespasian Reed, in something of a double military press...get a running start and release... "CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKKK!!!" ...throwing Reed headfirst into the stand, shattering the wooden stand and sending splinters of wood flying everywhere! HUGE HEEL POP! Both Idols commence to stomping the hell out of the downed Reed, laying in heavy boots to his face!] LVK: THE AMERICAN IDOLS HAVE DESTROYED VESPASIAN REED! THEY HAVE DECIMATED THIS YOUNG MAN AND RUINED THE BACKSTAGE AREA OF THE COTTON BOWL IN THE PROCESS! RP: They have not yet begun to defile young mister Reed, guaranteed. LVK: Zach Young grabs Reed by his hair... "THUUUD!" LVK: ...and rams him headfirst into the bathroom door, throwing Reed in as he goes! Owens stays near what used to be that stand, putting his hands on his knees to catch his breathe RP: JAKE! JAKE TURN AROUND! "THWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKKK!!!!" [BIG POP!] LVK: JESUS! HERVEZ MUST HAVE FOUND THE PARTY, BECAUSE HE JUST RIPPED OFF OWENS'S HEAD WITH A RUNNING MAFIA KICK! RP: Dammit! And he's got that chair with him, he's about ready to "WHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCKKKKK!!!" "WHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCKKKKK!!!" "WHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCKKKKK!!!" [MASSIVE POP! Also, alot of the audience shoot their shotguns into the air...as this is Texas et al. Or not.] LVK: HOLY MOTHER OF JIM, THREE INSIDIOUS CHAIRSHOTS HAVE LAID OUT JACOB OWENS!! RP: He dented the chair! He dented the friggin chair! I'm surprised Jake ain't dead! LVK: Hervez throws down the chair and brings Owens to his knees, and into a vertical headscissors...he lifts... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDD!!!" [POP!] LVK: POWERBOMB! Right into what used to be a damn soft pretzel stand! [Elquesa leaves a writhing Owens in the rubble and goes to swings open the bathroom door... "WHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMM!!!" ...just in time to see Zach Young slam a stall door on Vespasian's head. HEEL POP! Zach recoils from the motion and turns into a stinging right hand, then is grabbed by Hervez and launched headfirst into a mirror... "CRAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKK!!!" ...that gets shattered by Young's forehead and draws a trickle of blood. BIG POP!] LVK: Total domination by Elquesa Hervez who turns around to see a battered and bruised Jacob Owens crawling through the door. RP: That was totally unwarranted. To think, _three_ chairshots and a powerbomb. LVK: To paraphrase you...cry me a river. RP: Bah. LVK: The "All American" gets to his feet-- "THUUUUUUUUDDD!!!" LVK: --and runs right into a powerslam! RP: Ack. LVK: Hervez opens the door back up and tosses Owens out, this time following him! [Vespasian Reed has gotten back to his feet and he grabs a hold of one of the bars that holds the stalls up, and with one mighty tug... "KLAAAA-DAAAAAAAANNNKKKK!!" ...pulls the sumbitch off!] RP: What the hell did he do that for? "WHHAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKK!!" LVK: WHOA! Reed's swinging that metal bar around like a bat and Zach Young just ducked it! "WHHAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKK!!" RP: And he ducks another swing! LVK: Young with a fist to the gut and that makes Reed drop the bar. Young is stomping the hell out of Vespasian...and now he's got that thick metal bar! RP: Batter up! "CLOOOOOOONGGGG!!! LVK: SWEET SISTERS OF THE SACRED SILLY HAT! RP: Young parted Reed's hair with that friggin' bar! LVK: Vespasian Reed has to be seeing double right now, and he's staggering around like Rick Perle after a few too many margaritas. RP: Like you can talk Mr. Two Beer Queer. LVK: I'm sorry, were you talking? [Reed staggers out the door, and as it opens we can see Elquesa Hervez plant Jacob Owens in front of a white door across the hall and then retreating to the bathroom door. Reed ambles in Hervez' sight, putting himself directly in the path between Elquesa and Owens, who is leaning against the door. But Hervez cares not and lets out an ear piercing scream...which in turn snaps Reed out of it...] LVK: Hervez charges and Reed leapfrogs over him.... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!" [HOLY CRAP POP!] RP: HOLY CRAP! LVK: ELQUESA HERVEZ WENT FOR A SPEAR, BUT OWENS FLEW OUT OF THE WAY AND HERVEZ KNOCKED DOWN THAT DOOR! RP: Sheesh. [Let's take a quick look around the room, shall we? There's a large three seat leather couch on the western side and a smaller 2-seater on the east wall, seperated by a marble coffee table. There's a big screen TV against the southern wall, near the door that Elquesa Hervez knocked down, and on the far side of the smaller couch is table with a lamp on it. There is also a big white door on the far left of the northern wall. Now then...] LVK: Hervez is down, laying on that door and here comes Zach Young, still wielding that pipe! RP: Hervez is just now pushing himself off of that door.... "CLOOOOOOOOONNNGGGGG!!" RP: ...and back down he goes! LVK: Hervez flops on his stomach again and "Top Notch" Zach Young takes advantage, threading that bar underneath his chin and pulling back in a makeshift camel clutch! RP: Smart move, choking out Hervez and getting his breathe back at the same time. LVK: It most certainly is, but here comes Vespasian Reed! [Reed clears his head and walks on, tapping Zach on the shoulder. Young lets go and stands up, and eats a rolling elbow to the chops that lifts him off his feet and lands him slumped on the couch. Reed brings Zach up and hooks his left arm around Zach, hooking Young's near leg with his right hand and plunges back... "CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKKKKKKK!!!" ...hitting the tried and true, time tested EXPLODAAAAAAAH onto and through the marble table! HUGE POP! The rookie gets to his feet and is met with an onslaught of right hands, coming from a recovered Jacob Owens, who pushes Reed back farther with each right hand...until a final right knocks Reed through the door and onto the sidewalk outside the Cotton Bowl! POP!] LVK: HOLY SMOKES! They're out onto the street and Owens has Reed by the hair... "CLUUUNK!" LVK: ...and rams Vespasian headfirst into the side! RP: The side door flies open... [HUGE POP!] LVK: ELQUESA HERVEZ THROWS ZACH YOUNG THROUGH THE DOOR AND OUTSIDE INTO THE STREET! HE SEES OWENS AND TAKES OFF RUNNING-- RP: Jake ducks the lariat! Forearm to the back of Milli Vanilli and now Young spins him around. LVK: Front chancery, lifted into a suplex... "THUUUUUUUUUUUNNNKKKKK!!" [HEEL POP!!] RP: LAYOUT SUPLEX! ONTO THE HOOD OF A TAXI-CAB! LVK: Hervez landed hard on that car and now Owens climbs onto the hood himself, shoving Elquesa onto the roof of the car. RP: What kind of name is Elquesa anyway? I think queso means cheese, could his name possibly mean "the cheese"? LVK: There's something for you to look into Rick. RP: Will do. LVK: Owens has Hervez onto the roof of that cab now, and has him set up for a fisherman's suplex. He lifts...no blocked! [Hervez punches out of the attempted suplex and doubles Jacob over with a knee to the gut, underhooking both arms and lifts...] "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDD!!!" [EARTH SHATTERING FACE POP!!!] RP: HOLY SCHNIKIES! LVK: OHMYGOD! OHMYGOD! TIGER DRIVER ONTO THE HOOD OF THAT TAXI!! OWENS HAS TO BE DEAD, HE'S GOTTA BE DEAD! [As the fans in the Cotton Bowl holler it up (Ja Rule remix) Hervez simply stares at Owens as Vespasian Reed climbs onto the car. The dreadlocked farmer lifts his smaller teammate over his head in a military press, positions him accordingly, and drops Reed onto Jacob Owens' prone body! BIG POP! Suddenly, Zach Young pops up standing next to the car and punches the back of Elquesa's knee, making him buckle and then fall on his back. Zach reaches up and hooks Hervez' dreadlocked head, facing away, then jumps out into a brutal hangman's neckbreaker from the car to the concrete! BIG HEEL POP!] LVK: Neckbreaker off the taxi and Reed just now saw it! He jumps off the car--RIGHT INTO A FIST TO THE GUT! RP: As said before, learning curve my ass. "THUUUUD!" LVK: And Young scores with a Rocker Dropper! Face first into the concrete goes Vespasian Reed, and if this match was still inside Culture Jam's titles would be in serious jeopardy. RP: That fact just hit the Idols, I think, 'cause Zach is dragging Reed down the sidewalk, and Owens is doing the same with El Cheese. Or...trying anyway. LVK: Why don't they go in through the door they came out of. RP: Hey, it's not like RCW comes through Dallas very often. Maybe they wanna take the scenic route. "THUUD!" RP: Or maybe they want to run their opponents into various objects as they walk- "THUUD!" "THUUD!" LVK: Like they're doing now? RP: Just like that. [With Owens in tow, Young starts yelling at an RCW official and suddenly another side door opens. Zach rams the head of Vespasian into the door and then shoves him inside, and Jacob Owens does the same to Elquesa Hervez. A quick shot shows that yes, we are now in the production area behind the RiverTron. There's a whole bunch of people, who are now scattering, a ton of wires and all sorts of production type material.] LVK: The champions and challengers are brawling right through the production area! Reed rocks Young with a right hand that knocks "Top Notch" back a step! RP: But Jake got himself some seperation from Hervez with a headbu-- "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKK!!!" RP: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! LVK: ZACH YOUNG NAILED ELQUESA HERVEZ WITH AN EXTRA CAMERA, AND THAT STAGGERED THE BIG MAN! RP: Now he's got a microphone stand.... "WWWWHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKK!!" RP: RIGHT ACROSS THE BACK! LVK: Hervez got plastered by that stinging shot with the microphone stand! RP: Owens with a back elbow and now he shoves Reed onto that entrance ramp! [BIG POP for the sight of the competitors back in the vicinity of the ring.] LVK: Jacob Owens scoops up Vespasian Reed...and drops into a shoulderbreaker! And now both American Idols commence to stomping the life out of the downed Reed! RP: The tag titles are theirs Van Keel! It's only a matter of time! LVK: Zach Young walks down to the far side of the ramp as Owens lifts up Reed in a bearhug. They're gonna go for that bearhug/lariat combination! RP: Here comes Young.... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDD!!!" "OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" [BIGASS FACE POP!] LVK: HERVEZ CAME FROM NOWHERE AND SPEARED YOUNG IN MID STRIDE! ELQUESA HERVEZ OBLITERATED ZACH YOUNG!! RP: And now Reed is punching out of the bearhug! Jacob is staggered and he stumbles into...a bearhug from Hervez! [Elquesa lifts Jacob Owens up as this time it's Reed who backs up. He takes a look at Jacob's exposed head and charges, leaping in the air when he's close enough and rocking Owens with a bulldog lariat! HUGE POP! The cheers are replaced by boos though, as Zach Young musters enough energy to dropkick Elquesa off the ramp and into the crowd. Hervez lands on his feet and turns around, just as Zach jumps off the ramp and plants the time tested double axehandle between the eyes of Hervez! HEEL POP!] LVK: Those two are back at it, and Reed is shoving Jacob Owens down the ramp, toward the ring! RP: Back to where it all started, ze ring. LVK: Owens crawls through the ropes and Reed follows suit, wrapping an arm around Owens' waist and lifing... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDD!!!" LVK: ...FALLING INTO A BLUE THUNDER POWERBOMB! COVER! ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TH-KICKOUT! [HEEL POP!] LVK: Teddy Lancaster holds up two fingers and both men are back to their feet. Reed sends Owens for the ride, lariat RP: DUCKED! LVK: Reed turns around into Owens, gets scooped up... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDD!!!!" LVK: OWENS WITH A MICHINOKU DRIVER! COVER! ONE!!!!!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THR-REED KICKS OUT! [BIG POP!] RP: Damnit, so close from new champs! LVK: Owens brings Reed right back to his feet and into a standing headscissors, lift... "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDD!!!!!" [MASSIVE HEEL POP!] LVK: HUGE, JUMPING PILEDRIVER! THIS COULD BE IT! RP: NEW CHAMPS! LVK: ONE!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREE!!?!?! [WAKE THE NEIGHBORS POP!] LVK: NO! VESPASIAN REED KICKS OUT OF THE PILEDRIVER! HE WILL NOT STAY DOWN! RP: Dammit! So close, _so_ _close!_ LVK: Owens can't believe it! [Jacob bolts up and gets into the face of Teddy Lancaster, but y'know...you get over it. "All American" jumps out of the ring and grabs a EWA tag team title belt and slides back, holding the title up for all to see and motioning for Vespasian to get up, which he does...and when he turns around... "KAAAA-RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!" ...Reed gets leveled with the EWA Tag title! MASSIVE HEEL POP! Owens is ecstatic at his results and begins to celebrate, holding the title up and even climbing onto the turnbuckles in the corner. The incredible heel pop turns into a MAMMOTH FACE POP as Elquesa Hervez and Zach Young brawl over the barricade and land next to the announce table!] RP: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! LVK: Hervez and Young are right next to our table and Hervez just threw Zach Young _onto_ our table! RP: Oh no, oh no! LVK: Elquesa stands up, and he's got both hands around the neck of Zach Young... "KAAAAAAAAA-RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!!" [BIGASS FINISHER POP!!] LVK: ZAPATA DRIVER OH-ONE! THROUGH OUR TABLE! ZACH YOUNG IS DESTROYED!! [Close up on Young, face down in what used to be the announce table as Rick Perle has a conniption.] RP: GODDAMNIT! GODDAMN THESE SONS OF BITCHES BROKE MY TABLE _AGAIN_! AGAIN THESE BASTARDS DID IT! LVK: Hervez slides into the ring, but Owens spots him... "THUUUUU-WWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCKKKKK!!" RP: BELT SHOT TO THE HEAD!! LVK: JACOB OWENS HAS LAID EVERYONE OUT WITH SHOTS FROM THOSE FAKE TITLE BELTS! HE'S GOING TO WIN AN RCW TITLE WITH A PIECE OF TRASH FROM A CHRIS GODDAMN HOPPER PROMOTION! [As Owens celebrates once more, the rookie Vespasian Reed is in the far corner, dragging himself up with the help of the ropes. Now busted wide open from the belt shot, the battered and beaten Reed gets to his feet to a COLOSSAL FACE POP and charges full speed at Jacob Owens...who turns around...still holding the title...and eats a _monster_ Yakuza kick to the face, smashing the faux belt back into his face. ENORMOUS, CHART BUSTING FACE POP! Owens is immediately busted wide open.] LVK: REED! VESPASIAN REED IS STANDING TALL AMONGST A SEA OF BATTERED BODIES! OWENS IS DOWN, YOUNG IS DOWN, HERVEZ IS DOWN... [MONSTER FINISHER POP!] RP: NOOOOOO!! LVK: SNAKECHARMER! SNAKECHARMER! WAKIGATAME ARMBAR! HE'S GOT IT CLAMPED ON, AND THERE'S NOWHERE TO GO! [EVEN BIGGER FACE POP!] LVK: HE TAPPED! JACOB OWENS TAPPED OUT! CULTURE JAM WINS, CULTURE JAM WINS! *DING DING DING* DS: Ladies and gentleman, the winners of the match...and STIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLL RCW WOOOOOORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS... CUUUUUUULTUUUUUUUUUURRRE JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMM!! [HUGE-MONGOUS FACE POP!] LVK: Culture Jam retains their titles in a barn burner, and now both men are handed their belts! What a great moment for a pair of RCW originals! RP: Wait, wait Van Keel...they have the EWA tag title belts as well...what in the hell are they thinking? [Both men look at the outsider title belts, then look to the crowd, who are on their feet still. Elquesa Hervez, the dreadlocked ass kicker, simply shrugs and winds up...launching the EWA Tag Title into the crowd! HUGE POP! Vespasian Reed follows suit, shotputting the belt deep into the crowd as the audience flares up with another HUGE FACE POP!!] LVK: YES! Good riddance! RP: Dammit! Now some rednecks're gonna turn those belts into belt*buckles*! Goddamn line-dancing hicks! [Culture Jam then go back to celebrating, each of them mounting a corner and celebrating with the packed-out Cotton Bowl crowd.] LVK: There'll be no more fake champions in RCW - you're looking at the *true* World tagteam champions, and with this victory, Culture Jam have now surely claimed a spot in RCW history as one of the best duos we've ever seen! RP: Bah, they're no Bouncer and Flip Peterson. LVK: Well, we definitely need to get our announce table fixed. Luckily RCW prepares for this kind of thing, so we should another table out here in a matter of minutes. We also need to get the ring area set up for our next match, so let's now take a short break! [Fade out.] [Fade up from black right onto a close-up of the face of a man. A man whose expression somehow manages to mix anger, arrogance and contempt into one, cold expression. That man is Devon Case. In the background we hear the intro of "Revolution/Revolucion" by Ill Nino, and when the vocals kick in, the screen changes to rapid-fire images of Case in action.] #We are given this knife, now we're taking their life The pact is made We sold our souls for nothing more The strands of life were once frayed And now we're scared and afraid Living out the dreams that seem to be delayed# [Way back at No Limits, Case nails Johnny Axis with the Case Closed and covers him; then we see Case celebrating with the National title, holding it above his head, looking exhausted but exuberant.] #Que so mos libre pero un cancer You say that you have found the answer The future's not for me in your society The light you see is never what it seems to be# [Standing in the graveyard during the infamous Graveyard promo, Case looks right at the camera, the mischevious smirk that earned him the nickname "Devious" spread across his face with defiance.] #Confusion, illusion The nation that you took from me Is one in which I won't burn Because you won't learn that this is my Turn to return# [Case nails Dan Kauffman with his inverted DDT, The Strip, during the War Games match at the Old School Tribute, and springs to his feet, celebrating; then we see proof that he does indeed stand alone, as he nails Tommy Stephens with the same move during the same match.] #You can't sell us what you steal We won't buy what isn't real Our lives aren't secure Our hearts won't endure# [Case nails Luke Kinsey with the Case Closed, and covers him, getting the 3-count and moving on in the World title tournament.] #F**k you and yoooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuur# [Standing in a dark room somewhere, the shadows covering half of his face and upper body, Case frowns angrily and defiantly, the very picture of a man who doesn't care what people think about him.] #Y mi futuro es Negro, que yo soy un peligro The vision that is sold Just never seems to grow# [After beating Alex Extreme at Glory, Case stands victorious, the National title over one shoulder.] #The life that you cannot mold Tu dices que es tu dolo The fact is played, the story's old, I'm f**king cold# [We see a shot of a crowd standing and jeering, and then we see the object of their hatred - Devon Case standing in the ring, lookingg pissed off beyond belief. It's not a look that says that he's angry at the crowd's reaction, but that he's pissed off with life in general.] #To be like you and have your actions To buy into the new perceptions Of how my life should be, the vision I Should see The future and the light is not what seems To be# [On the last Impact, Dan Kauffman and Case stand in the ring. Kauffman offers his hand, and Case takes it, but then attacks Kauffman, sending him into the mat with The Strip. He gets a microphone and stands over Kauffman. We can't hear the words, but the utter contempt is clear from Case's expression.] #Confusion, illusion The nation that you took from me Is one in which I won't burn Because you won't learn that this is my Turn to return# [A short from when Case first came into RCW, wearing his famous "F**k Tampa" t-shirt, which the camera zooms in on. But then the change in Case over the months is reflected by a shot of him and Fletcher, both men looking like they can't stand being in one another's presence.] #You can't sell us what you steal We won't buy what isn't real Our lives aren't secure; Our hearts won't endure F**k you and yooooooooooooooooooooour# [Case nails Juan Vasquez with a Yakuza kick, sending him over the top rope, and then drops into a cover on Madison J. Valentine, getting the 3 count.] #F**k you and all your ways# [Having mounted a corner, Case looks around, showing little or no emotion as the crowd goes nuts with boos around him. A piece of trash comes firing in, hitting Case on the chest, and he turns and flips a bird towards the fan who threw it.] #Revolucion-Revolution! Revolucion-Revolution! Revolucion-Revolution! Revolucion-Revolution!# [And back to another shot of Case in the dark room, with the determined scowl still on his face. His face gives nothing away, but he brings two fists up to his chest, showing his readiness to fight whatever comes his way.] #Revolucion-Revolution! Revolucion-Revolution! Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaagghhhhhh# [And as the song fades out, the camera pans down to the feet of Case, who stays standing in his defiant, smug manner. At his feet sits a simple piece of cardboard - a birthday card bearing the words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY". Then the camera pans back up to Case's face, and now it's smiling. Devious, evil, smiling. Fade out.] LVK: We're back, and well fans.... [Larry reaches out of shot and pulls into view a large helmet. Kind of like a riot police helmet, with a large see-through plastic full-face visor. He pulls it on, with the visor currently up off his face. Rick puts one on too.] LVK: You might be asking why are we wearing these? [Smile.] LVK: For the answer to that, I suggest you take a look at the ring! [The camera cuts to a shot of the ring. All of the ropes have been taken down, along with the turnbuckles. In their place is three strands of barbwire on one side, and three strands of thick, white rope on another side. The side facing the rampway, and the one opposite that, have no ropes of any kind, but the camera zooms in to the start of the rampway, showing a large tray full of broken glass. But then the coup d'gras - the camera pans around to show surrounding the ring, halfway between the railing and the ring apron, a "trench" of explosives! It is also noticeable that the first 10 or so rows of the crowd have been moved back, leaving empty seats.] RP: Van Keel, I'm not sure I wanna be here. LVK: Now Rick, you know we'll be safe with these helmets, and as long as we get down behind the desk when the explosives go off! RP: Oh, so reassuring. *If* we get down. If we don't, we're friggin' toast! [The camera returns to Larry and Rick.] LVK: Glass, barbwire, a set of ropes which will be set alight, explosives - it can mean only one thing. It's time for the Ultimate Death Match! [Cut back to the ring, as a ring attendant lights the thick white ropes on one side, and each strand licks into flames. HARDCORE POP!] [David Stokes gingerly makes his way to mid-ring, looking very nervous about being anywhere near the ring.] DS: Ladies and gentlemen....this is...the ULTIMATE DEATH MATCH!! [HUUUUGE POP!!] DS: The match is won when an opponent cannot answer the referee's count of 20! [Suddenly, the lights go out! Strobe lights randomly flash through the darkness and surging hazy purple smoke as Eminem 's "The Way I Am" continues to blast through the speakers at full tilt...] FFFFFFFFFFFFFFSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! [A white light blinds the the crowd as the arena then goes pitch black.] (KAABOOM!!!) (KAABOOM!!!) (KAABOOM!!!) (KAABOOM!!!) [Through the smoky purple haze and pyro walks Mr. Excitement Alex Extreme . The spotlights converge on Extreme as they alternate from white, blue, pink, and purple. Extreme, wearing a black and neon blue leather jacket, a black t-shirt with a big huge clumsly splashed big X in neon purple on it, Ray Ban wafer shades and a pair of neon blue and black swirled spandex pants, glistens in the arena lights as he makes his way to the ring. He has a black duffel bag thrown over his left shoulder, and looks intense as he stares straight ahead at the ring.] DS: Introducing first...from CHICAGO, ILLINOIS...weighing TWO HUNDRED AND FORTY POUNDS... "MR. EXCITEMENT" AAAALLLLLEEEEEEEEEXXXX EEEEEXTREEEEEEEEEMMMEEEEEEE!!! [Extreme carefully steps around the tray of glass, and into the ring, before throwing his duffel bag out to ringside, and throwing his arms into the air. HEEL POP!!] [Then, the loud, obnoxious guitar riffs of "Rocket Science" by the Pimps suddenly burst through the Cotton Bowl to a tremendous face pop, as the lights go dim and two pinwheel type fireworks flare up next to the entrance. The crowd pops in excitement as the lyrics to the to the chorus blast out...] #Let it be known, let it be known.# #Let it be known, let it be known.# #I NEVER WANTED TO BE ANYBODY'S ANYTHING!# #I NEVER WANTED TO BE ANYBODY'S ANYTHING!# #I NEVER WANTED TO BE ANYBODY'S ANYTHING!# #I NEVER WANTED TO BE--- [Abruptly the music screeches to a halt.] SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH! [And just as quick the music changes to the sinister sounds of "Take Your Best Shot" by Dope.] #What do you wanna do with your life?# #Go on and take your best SHOT!# #BLOW THEM AWAY!# #BLOW THEM AWAY!# #BLOW THEM AWAY!# #BLOW THEM AWAY!# [The lights go down and two huge fireballs go off, bringing the lights back up as finally Luke Kinsey finally walks out from the back, looking quite different. He's dressed in stonewashed blue jeans and steel toed boots, as well as a sleeveless black, red and blue "RCW: Caged Rage 2" tee shirt. His normally brown hair has been dyed black as hell.] #I don't know why# #And lately I don't understand# #Why the world's so blind# #And no one seems to give a damn# #Don't let them say# #That you can't be the things that you want# #Don't believe them# [Tied around his waist is a blue and white flannel shirt, and in his right hand a singapore cane wrapped in barbed wire. His hands, wrists and forearms are heavily wrapped in white athletic tape.] DS: And his opponent.....weighing in at 228 pounds.....from Syracuse, New York.... "COOL HAND" LUUUUUUUUUKE KIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNSSEEEEEEEEEEYYYY!!!! #You gotta take your best shot# #BLOW THEM AWAY!# #BLOW THEM AWAY!# #Take your best shot# #BLOW THEM AWAY!# #BLOW THEM AWAY!# [Kinsey looks to Extreme in the ring and points at him with the cane. Luke begins to walk down the aisle, cane in hand and spouting out a string of profanites as he walks. He picks it up halfway down the aisle and races down the rest of the way, jumping into the ring and swinging the cane at Alex Extreme!] ___ __ _________________________________________________________________ / __\ /__\ |___ \ / / / \// __) | ULTIMATE DEATH MATCH! / /___ / _ \ / __/ \____/ \/ \_/ |_____| "Cool Hand" Luke Kinsey \ vs written \ "Mr Excitement" Alex Extreme by \ Fletch \____________________________________________________________________ *DING DING!!* LVK: OH BOY!! Luke Kinsey going right after Alex Extreme with that barbwire singapore cane! *THWUUUNNKK!!* [The crowd lets rip with a HARDCORE POP as Kinsey brings the cane down across Extreme's shoulder, the barbwire biting into his flesh painfully. Extreme raises a hand to his shoulder instinctively, yelping in pain, and Kinsey swings the cane back the other way....] *THWUUUNNKK!!* [HARDCORE POP!] RP: OH DAMN! A second shot right into the exposed ribs!! [That shot sends Extreme down to his knees, and Kinsey steps back, swings the cane above his head, and then lunges forward while swinging downwards....] *THWAAAAACKKKKKKKK!!!!!* [BIG SHOCK POP!!] LVK: OOOOOOHHHHHHH!!! RIGHT TO THE TOP OF THE SKULL!!! LOOK AT KINSEY GO!! [The shot to the head having knocked him to the mat, Extreme gets up to his knees in a daze, a trickle of blood dripping down his forehead. HARDWAY JUICE POP!!] RP: GODDAMN! Extreme's been cut open already! [Kinsey waits as Extreme gets to his feet, stumbling about in a dazed state, and then rushes in, swinging the cane horizontally at head level. Luckily for Extreme he comes to his senses in time to duck the shot....] LVK: OH! Extreme barely avoids decapitation! *THWACK!* [POP!] RP: And nails Kinsey with a front thrust kick!! LVK: That knocked the singapore cane from Kinsey's grasp, and by the looks of it, knocked his faculties clear out of his head! RP: I dunno what the hell you just said, but Extreme's got hold of Kinsey now... [Grabbing Kinsey by the arm, Extreme whips him across the ring - straight for the electrified barbwire! HUGE PROTEST POP!!!] LVK: GOOD GOD!!! LOOKOUT!! [Relief pop!] RP: Kinsey slid under the barbwire! LVK: A close call for the young man from Syracuse, New York! [Kinsey shakes his head to clear it, and then walks around to the adjacent side of the ring, the one with no side, being careful not to wander too close to the "trench" of explosives. He climbs back in, but is met immediately with a kick to the face from Extreme while on one knee.] LVK: A stiff kick to the face, and Extreme now pulling Kinsey back to his feet. [Extreme punches Kinsey in the side of the head a couple of times, and then sets him up in a standing headscissor. The fans roar as he hoists Kinsey into the air....] LVK: POWERB- *THUUUDD!!* [FACE POP!!] RP: NO! Kinsey countered with a guillotine facedriver!! [Rolling to his feet, Kinsey waits for Extreme to get up, and then stuns him with a couple of punches of his own. He then grabs him by the arm, and whips him across the ring towards the barbwire....] LVK: OH! REVERSED BY EXTR- *KRCCKK-BOOOOOOOMMMM!!!* [BIG ASS HARDCORE POP!!!] [As Kinsey hits the barbwire chestfirst, a huge burst of sound and a flash of white smoke explodes from it, accompanied by a quick, dazzling shower of sparks! His body goes rigid, and then he flops back to the mat, some smoke eminating from his body for a split-second afterward.] LVK: DEAR GOD!!! RIGHT INTO THE ELECTRIFIED BARBWIRE, AND LUKE KINSEY IS HURT!! RP: That was crazy! LVK: Well, I have to admit - it *was* Luke who challenged for this match. [Standing over the fallen, slightly-convulsing Kinsey, Extreme breaks out into an evil grin. He looks down, but then his smile fades, and he suddenly looks shocked. Bending down, he cradles Kinsey's head, and begins yelling - "ALEX! I'M SORRY ALEX!! SPEAK TO ME!"] LVK: Oh my God - Alex Extreme has clearly lost his mind. He thinks he's in there with Alex Martinez, the very wrestler who invented the Ultimate Death Match! RP: It's not really surprising - in recent weeks Extreme's been acting *real* strange, mixing up the present with the past, and thinking someone else attacked Kinsey when he did it. He's a freakin' NUTZOID! [Extreme backs away as Kinsey rolls over onto his hands and knees, a horrified look still on Alex's face. He approaches again, muttering "Are you alright Magnus old buddy?". But Kinsey answers simply by ramming a fist into Extreme's midsection. POP! Extreme's expression changes from sorrow to shocked anger, and he grabs Kinsey by the head, dragging him to his feet. "What'd you do that for? I was trying to help you!" - and then a punch!] RP: This is damn weird! LVK: Creepy is the word Rick. Alex Extreme obviously needs some professional help! [His mood switching over to unbridled fury, Extreme slams punch after punch into Kinsey's head with vicious intent. He then leads Kinsey by a handful of hair over to the side of the ring with no side but explosives on the floor, and stops. He looks around, as the fans cotton on to what he's going to do, and let rip with a building PROTEST POP!] LVK: GOOD LORD!! HE'S GOING TO THROW KINSEY INTO THE EXPLOSIVES!! RP: DUUUUUUUCCCKK!!! [Dragging Kinsey back to the middle of the ring, Extreme grabs him by one arm, and then whips him towards the explosives, the crowd's shock building by the second. But again Kinsey drops to the mat and baseball slides, which slows him down and allows him to slide to his feet outside of the ring, just inches short of the explosives. RELIEF POP!!] LVK: MY GOD THAT WAS CLOSE!! [...] LVK: Rick, come out from behind the table now. RP: I'm not sure I want to! [Extreme rushes over, but Kinsey reaches in and grabs him by both ankles, pulling so that Extreme crashes down to the mat. Climbing back into the ring, Kinsey then climbs onto Extreme into a mount position, and begins to rain down punches onto "Mr Excitement"'s head! FACE POP!!] LVK: Kinsey now going to town on Extreme, pounding away at him! [Dragging the dazed Extreme to his feet, Kinsey pulls him into a front chancery. He tries to lift Extreme up into a vertical suplex, but Extreme hooks his leg around Kinsey's, blocking it....] RP: Suplex blocked by Extreme! LVK: OH! AND REVERSED!! [Lifting Kinsey into the air, Extreme doesn't follow through with the vertical suplex. Instead he turns, and drops Kinsey back down frontwards.....] *KRA-URRRRRRLLKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!* [HUGE HARDCORE POP!!!!!!] LVK: OH MY GOD!!! HE DROPPED KINSEY STOMACHFIRST ACROSS THE BARBWIRE!!!! RP: There's no electricity left in the wire, but that move's still effective enough! [The force of Kinsey's weight coming down on the barbwire causes the top strand to break, leaving him slumped over the middle strand of wire, with the top one tangled around his body.] LVK: I can't begin to imagine the pain from that barbwire sticking into Kinsey's stomach right now! RP: He's pretty damn tangled up in there! [Extreme turns and slides from the ring on the open side, being careful not to stumble into the explosives. He throws back the ring apron, and begins fishing around underneath it.] LVK: What's Extreme looking for? *THUD!* RP: How about a chair? *THUD!* RP: Or a....fire extinguisher? [BIG HARDCORE POP!] *THUD!* RP: A BASEBALL BAT! Woohoo! *THENK!* LVK: A chain! It has to be four feet long! *THUD!* RP: And another chair! Man, Extreme's bringing out the plunder! [Finished throwing instruments of doom into the ring, Extreme climbs back in. But what he hasn't counted on is Kinsey getting free of the barbwire and getting his hands on one of the weapons....] LVK: OHHHH!!! KINSEY IS UP AND HE HAS THE BASEBALL BAT!!! [HUGE FACE POP!!!] RP: LOOKOUT ALEX!! [Extreme gets to his feet, sees Kinsey with the bat, and charges at him regardless, once again proving his lack of mental well-being. Kinsey tees off, and swings...] *THWAAACKKK!!!* [....the impact of the bat hitting Extreme in the head and sending him flying sideways, right into.....] *FWOOOOSSHHHH-THWUMMPPPPPP!!!!!!* [HUGE HARDCORE POP!!!!] RP: ARGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! LVK: OH MY GOD!!!! EXTREME WENT CRASHING RIGHT THROUGH THE BURNING ROPES TO THE FLOOR!!!! RP: Holy sh[bleep] he was close to falling on the damn explosives! SO DAMN CLOSE! LVK: Nevermind that! One of the ropes fell onto the mat - THE MAT'S ON FIRE!!! [A HUGE DISBELIEF POP goes up at the sight of a small patch of flame forming on the mat. Referee Teddy Lancaster immediately rushes over and tries to put it out by stamping on it, but does little more than spread the flames. Alex Extreme, meanwhile, rolls back into the ring, brushing part of a burning rope off of his shoulder, and grabs one of the chairs he threw into the ring moments ago.....] *KAH-DAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNKKKKK!!!* [HUGE HEEL/HARDCORE POP!!!!] RP: SWEET JIMINY CHRISTMAS!! EXTREME WITH A CHAIRSHOT RIGHT TO THE TOP OF KINSEY'S SKULL!!! LVK: Kinsey's down, the referee's trying to stop the mat from burning....IT'S CHAOS!! [Extreme pulls Kinsey to his feet, and places him in a standing headscissor, right next to the burning patch of mat. He pushes Lancaster away, as the fans begin to scream, realising what he's doing, and Extreme lifts.....] *THUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!* [DEAFENING PROTEST/HARDCORE POP!!!!!] LVK: DEAR GOD!!! A PILEDRIVER - RIGHT INTO THE FLAMES!!! [Quickly rolling away so that his pants don't catch fire, Extreme stays down, feeling at a fresh burn on his shoulder. Kinsey also rolls away, groaning and clutching at his neck in pain. Teddy Lancaster rushes over.....] *FWSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!* LVK: Finally the fire is out, thanks to the referee using that fire extinguisher! RP: It's a good thing Extreme found it under the ring! LVK: Now Teddy Lancaster turning his attention back to the wrestlers....AND STARTING A COUNT!! Remember, the only way to lose this match is to not beat a 20 count! *ONE!* *TWO!* *THREE!* [Extreme rolls to his feet.] *FOUR!* *FIVE!* *SIX!* [Kinsey rolls onto his hands and knees, his head hanging down, and one hand clutching at the back of his neck.] *SEVEN!* *EIGHT!* *NINE!* [FACE POP!!] LVK: Kinsey breaks the count, and this match continues! RP: He's up, but that piledriver into the fire seems to have scrambled Kinsey's brain a bit! [Kinsey staggers sideways for a couple of steps, ending up close to where the burning ropes were moments ago. Now all that remains are a few burnt lengths hanging from the ringposts, with nothing in the middle. Extreme, meanwhile, has made his way over to the barbwire side of the ring. The bottom and middle strands of wire are still intact, but the top one has come loose from the ringpost on one side. Extreme grabs the wire, with no regard for the damage it might do to his hands, and begins trying to pull it free from the other ringpost. HARDCORE POP!] LVK: What on earth is Extreme doing? RP: Getting another weapon I guess! [After five or six tugs, the wire comes free, and Extreme turns around with a look of evil glee on his face. He walks back to Kinsey, and nails him with a kick to the gut, dropping Luke to one knee. Moving in behind Kinsey, Extreme takes the wire, and begins to wrap it around his head! BLOODTHIRSTY HARDCORE POP!!!!] RP: SWEET BUTTERY JESUS!!! LVK: SADISTIC!! SIMPLY SADISTIC!!! [He manages to get the wire wrapped all the way around three times, the barbs digging into Kinsey's forehead, just below his eyes, and across his mouth. Taking hold of the two ends of the wire, Extreme then begins to pull, twist and rake! DEAFENING PROTEST POP!!!] RP: OH GOD!! I CAN'T WATCH!!! LVK: THIS IS SICKENING!!! [A maniacal, twisted half-grin spread across his face, Extreme begins to babble again. "I told you! I told you Bryce - you shouldn't have cut that hole in the top of the cage! You shouldn't have jumped through it onto me! NOW YOU PAY!"] LVK: Alex Extreme has completely lost his mind, but somehow it seems to be working in his favor! RP: Alex keeps flashing back to people who've done him wrong in the past, and the anger that it's producing is helping him! [The camera zooms in on Kinsey's face, as Luke screams and groans in absolute agony, the barbs ripping into the soft flesh of his face, sending several streams of blood squirting and streaming outwards!] LVK: This is too sick. How can a person do this to another human being? [Teddy Lancaster grabs Extreme by the arm, trying to break it up. Extreme fights, but on a second attempt, Lancaster manages to push Extreme away, and then begins admonishing him. Extreme turns to face the official, who suddenly looks like a deer caught in a car's headlights as he looks into the eyes of a madman! POP!!] RP: That referee better get the hell out of there, or he'll get some of what Kinsey just got! [But strangely, Extreme doesn't attack the referee. He merely glares at him angrily for a couple of seconds, and then returns to Kinsey, whose face is a bloody mess.] LVK: Thankfully Kinsey has managed to get that barbwire off of his face, but the damage has already been done! RP: He ain't no pretty boy anymore! [Extreme grabs the barbwire, which is now dripping in blood, and rolls it up slightly, before throwing it down onto the mat. He drags up Kinsey, who can obviously not see with his face spurting blood, and who as a result is unable to offer any resistence. Extreme pulls him into a standing headscissor slightly in front of the barbwire - ANTICIPATION POP!] LVK: OH GOD!! Is he going to piledrive Kinsey onto the barbwire?! RP: Either that or powerbomb him onto it!' [It turns out to be the latter, as Extreme swings Kinsey into the air, and then drops him back down. But Kinsey rolls through the drop, turning sideways and throwing with his legs....] LVK: REVERSED INTO A FLYING HEADSCISSORS! [....which sends Extreme rolling forward. He narrowly misses rolling onto the barbwire, but the momentum sends him tumbling across the ring, and since there are no ropes, he tumbles right out of the ring, onto the rampway, which just happens to be covered in a large tray full of glass!] *KRA-SMAAAASSSHHHHH-KRK-CRSSHSHHHHH!!!* [THUNDEROUS HARDCORE POP!!!] RP: HOLY SHIZNIT!!! EXTREME WENT ROLLING RIGHT INTO THE BROKEN GLASS!!!! [Rolling out of the tray and onto his stomach, Extreme screams in pain, and the camera zooms in to show numerous deep cuts now criss-crossing his back, all quickly forming into dark red lines. In one or two places, small pieces of glass are actually sticking out of his flesh!] RP: OH DAMN! That's just freakin' sick! LVK: I agree! Alex Extreme's back has been cut to shreds! [Kinsey staggers back to his feet, his face now covered in blood, and a far-off look in his eyes. He stumbles out onto the rampway, dragging Extreme to his feet, and applying a front facelock! POP!] LVK: DDT coming up! [BIG HEEL POP!!] RP: NO! Low blow by Extreme!! [Still grimacing in agony, Extreme gets to his feet, and reaches back to try and get the pieces of glass out of his flesh. He then angrily punches Kinsey in the forehead a couple of times, ramming the point of his fist into the open wounds, before grabbing Kinsey by one arm.....] LVK: NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! *KRA-SMAAAASSSHHHHH-KRK-CRSSHSHHHHH!!!* [DEAFENING SHOCK/SYMPATHY POP!!!] RP: HE HIPTOSSED KINSEY ONTO THE GLASS!! NOW BOTH OF THEM ARE CUT UP BADLY!!! LVK: I cannot believe the sheer disregard for their bodies these two men are showing here tonight! [Kinsey rolls out of the tray, onto his stomach, arching his back in sheer agony. Like Extreme, his back now sports many bleeding cuts, but luckily he seems to have avoided having any glass stuck into the flesh.] LVK: Alex Extreme is now staggering back into the ring, and leaving Kinsey out on the rampway! RP: The ref's gonna count! *ONE!* *TWO!* *THREE!* *FOUR!* *FIVE!* *SIX!* [Kinsey rolls to his knees, clutching at his back in pain.] *SEVEN!* *EIGHT!* *NINE!* *TEN!* [He pushes up to one knee, bleeding in more places than should be humanly possible, and waivers, dropping a hand back to the rampway to steady himself.] *ELEVEN!* *TWELVE!* [FACE POP!!!] LVK: HE'S UP! Kinsey beat the count! [Extreme walks over and leads Kinsey back into the ring, before stopping and nailing him in the gut with a kneelift. He then pulls Kinsey into a standing headscissors, pausing to jab his right elbow down into Kinsey's cut-covered back a few times. PROTEST POP!] LVK: Alex Extreme seems to be getting some kind of perverted pleasure out of all of this! [Extreme then grabs him around the midsection, and swings him into the air....] *THUUUUUUUUDDD!!!* RP: This time he nailed the powerbomb! LVK: Can you imagine the pain Kinsey is feeling right now, from having his wounded back driven into the mat like that? RP: Now Extreme's dragging Kinsey back to his feet! [Without losing focus for a second, Extreme applies a front facelock, and then quickly drops to the mat.....] *THUUUUUUUUDDDDD!!!* LVK: AND NOW A DDT!!! LUKE KINSEY IS IN A BAD, BAD WAY!!! RP: And now Extreme's telling the ref to count! LVK: Well, he may be absolutely out of his mind, but Alex Extreme still wants to win the match! *ONE!* *TWO!* *THREE!* *FOUR!* *FIVE!* *SIX!* *SEVEN!* [Kinsey starts to stir, rolling over onto his stomach and raising his head to look around with glazed eyes.] *EIGHT!* *NINE!* *TEN!* *ELEVEN!* [Kinsey pushes up to one knee, the crowd now chanting "KIN-SEY! KIN-SEY!" in support.] *TWELVE!* *THIRTEEN!* *FOURTEEN!* *FIFTEEN!* [HUGE FACE POP!!!] *KIN-SEY!! KIN-SEY!!* *KIN-SEY!! KIN-SEY!!* *KIN-SEY!! KIN-SEY!!* *KIN-SEY!! KIN-SEY!!* LVK: Luke Kinsey beat the count again, but he's losing a lot of blood by the second! [Extreme keeps the advantage with a couple of punches to the groggy Kinsey, and then leads him over to the side of the ring which has no ropes of any kind. With a swift kick in the gut, Extreme then pulls him into a standing headscissor, and leaves him that way while grinning maniacally and pointing out to the explosives! PROTEST/PANIC POP!!!!] LVK: OH NO!!! HE WOULDN'T!!! RP: Yes he damn-well would! I'm getting down behind the table! [Done showboating, Extreme reaches down and hooks Kinsey around the waist, and pulls upwards....] LVK: KINSEY'S BLOCKING IT!!! [Extreme tries again, but still finds too much resistence. Looking frustrated and angry, he steps back, allowing Kinsey to drop to his knees, and fires a boot into Luke's bloody face. Then another....] RP: Luke Kinsey is *so* out of it right now! I bet he's wishing that he'd never made the challenge for this match! A match that Alex Extreme has fought in before, but Kinsey never has, and it's showing! [With Kinsey swaying back and forth on his knees, clearly out of it, Extreme backs away across the ring. He waits for Kinsey to stumble up to his feet, and then charges towards him....] *THWACK-THUD!* [BIG ASS FACE POP!!!!] LVK: OOHHHH!!! EXTREME RAN RIGHT INTO A DROPKICK!!! MAYBE KINSEY *ISN'T* OUT OF THIS MATCH JUST YET!!! RP: Kinsey's back up.... [FACE POP!!] RP: OH CRAP!!! HE HAS THE CHAIN!!! [A defiant growl suddenly coming over his blood-splattered face, Kinsey takes hold of the thick chain with both hands, and stalks over to Extreme, who is getting to his hands and knees, oblivous to what is about to happen....] LVK: Extreme doesn't see him coming! *CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNKKKKKKKK!!!!!* [EXPLOSIVE FACE POP!!!!] *CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNKKKKKKKK!!!!!* [EXPLOSIVE FACE POP!!!!] *CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNKKKKKKKK!!!!!* [EXPLOSIVE FACE POP!!!!] *CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNKKKKKKKK!!!!!* [EXPLOSIVE FACE POP!!!!] RP: SWEET MERCIFUL CRAP!!! FOUR TIMES RIGHT ACROSS THE BACK!!! LVK: RIGHT ONTO THE OPEN CUTS!! THE PAIN MUST BE UNIMAGINABLE!!! [Tired from swinging the heavy chain, Kinsey drops it to the mat, and hunches over, hands on knees. He brings one hand up to his face, and tries his best to scoop away some of the thick, sticky blood. Straightening back up after a few seconds, he staggers over to the rampway, picks up the tray of glass, carries it a few steps towards the center of the ring, and.....] *KRA-CRASSSH-SMASSHH-CLAK-CRSSHHHHH-TCK-KRRRRCCHHHHHHHHHHH!!!* [GIGANTIC HARDCORE POP!!!!!] LVK: GOOD LORD ABOVE!!! HE DUMPED THE BROKEN GLASS ALL OVER THE MAT!!! RP: Booyah! LVK: I don't like the look of this! [Extreme has slowly made his way to his feet, but he is met with a couple of knife-edge chops, and a clubbing forearm to the back, before Kinsey pulls him into a standing headscissors position....] RP: TELL ME HE'S NOT GOING TO!! [Kinsey swings Extreme up into a powerbomb lift, and the fans explode into a HUGE ANTICIPATION POP!!] *KLA-CRSSH-THUUUUDDD-CRKKK-SSHHHHH!!!!* [BLOODTHIRSTY HARDCORE POP!!!!] RP: HOLY GUACA-FRIGGIN'-MOLE!!!! HE POWERBOMBED EXTREME RIGHT ONTO THE GLASS!!! LVK: OH MY GOD!! [Leaving Extreme lying in the glass with his back arched and his mouth open in complete shock, Kinsey staggers away, and then drops to one knee, his head hanging low as the toll of the match catches up with him again. Extreme rolls out of the glass, every slight movement bringing more jagged pain, and Teddy Lancaster steps in to pull glass from his back.] LVK: Neither of these wrestlers are ever going to be the same again after tonight! The scar tissue alone will be an everlasting momento of this blood-crazed battle! [As Extreme staggers to his feet, Kinsey straightens as well, before bending back down and picking up a weapon off the mat.] RP: Kinsey has the barbwire singapore cane! [Straightening up again, Kinsey turns, only to find that Extreme has both hands clamped firmly on a steel chair. Kinsey's eyes grow wide in surprise, but his expression is matched by Extreme, noticing for the first time the cane in Kinsey's hands! BIG POP!] LVK: OH BOY! We have something of a standoff right now! [Keeping a wary eye on each other, Kinsey and Extreme begin to circle each other, their weapons poised to strike at any moment....] RP: Who's gonna strike first? [Almost as if to answer Rick's question, Extreme lunges forward, swinging the chair into the air. But Kinsey is ready, and he swings the lighter cane sideways into Extreme's ribs....] *THWUUUNNKK!!* [HUGE FACE POP!!] LVK: KINSEY WITH A CANESHOT RIGHT INTO EXTREME'S SIDE!!!! [The pain causes Extreme to abort his chair swing, as he doubles over slightly. But he then thrusts the chair end-first into Kinsey's gut painfully, doubling him over, and then tries again, swinging the chair into the air.....] *KAH-DAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNKKKKKKK!!!!!* [GIANT-SIZED HARDCORE POP!!!] RP: SWEET BUTTERY JESUS!!! WHAT A CHAIRSHOT!!!! LVK: HE BENT THE STEEL CHAIR OVER KINSEY'S SKULL!!! AND KINSEY WENT DOWN LIKE A TON OF BRICKS!!!! RP: He went down quicker than the babysitter I had when I was 13! LVK: ... RP: Er...don't ask. [Extreme rolls Kinsey over onto his back, and then places the dented chair across his head. He then walks across the ring, turns and runs, leaping up and coming down with his right leg thrust out....] *CLANNNNKKKKK!!!!!* LVK: OOOHHHH!!! LEGDROP RIGHT ONTO THE CHAIR ON KINSEY'S HEAD!!! RP: And I don't think Extreme's done! [Pulling the chair off of Kinsey, Extreme unfolds it, and then sits it down. The bent chair won't sit normally, but Extreme gets it sitting the best he can, and then drags Kinsey up to his feet and pushes him down into a sitting position on the chair.] LVK: What on earth does Extreme have in mind now? [Leaving Kinsey slumped back in the chair, Extreme then walks over and picks up the barbwire cane. He walks across the ring from Kinsey, and turns, holding the cane in the air as he yells "Here I come Kain!" CONFUSED POP!!] RP: Kain? Geez, now he's going back five years! [Extreme then brandishes the cane in both hands, and sets of running towards Kinsey. He sprints, and just before reaching his adversary, swings the cane like a baseball bat.....] *THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCKKKKKK!!!!!!* [HARDCORE/PROTEST POP!!!!!] RP: GODDAMN!!! A RUNNING CANESHOT TO THE CHEST!!!! BRUTAL!!!! [The force of the blow sends Kinsey and the chair crashing backwards to the mat, and Kinsey rolls over, hunching into a ball as he screams in pain.] LVK: Luke Kinsey is in there with a madman! A RAVING LUNATIC!!! RP: Yes he is, but he wanted to be here! LVK: Yes, but this has gotten out of control! Extreme is taking him apart piece by piece! RP: Extreme's telling the ref to count! This could be it! *ONE!* *TWO!* *THREE!* *FOUR!* *FIVE!* *SIX!* *SEVEN!* [Oblivious to the count going on, Kinsey still clutches at his chest, pain wracking his body from all over and consuming all of his consciousness.] *EIGHT!* *NINE!* *TEN!* *ELEVEN!* *TWELVE!* [Finally Kinsey rolls onto his stomach and looks up, his glazed-over eyes a sign that he's not exactly sure of where he is right now.] *THIRTEEN!* *FOURTEEN!* RP: HE'S NOT GETTING UP!!! EXTREME'S GONNA WIN!!! *FIFTEEN!* [With a big heave, Kinsey pushes up to his hands and knees, and then to one knee....] *SIXTEEN!* [And finally to his feet! BIG ASS FACE POP!!!!] LVK: HE'S UP!!! THAT WAS VERY CLOSE!!! RP: NO CRAP!! I thought he wasn't gonna get up! He looked gone for all money!! [But Kinsey drops back to his knees in a zombie-like state, and then rolls out of the ring, the fans roaring with a COLOSSAL PANIC POP as Kinsey walks close to the explosives!] RP: HIT THE DECK! [...] LVK: It's alright Rick! He didn't walk into the explosives, although it was close! RP: Oh man, that was too close! LVK: Would you calm down? RP: How the hell can I calm down when there's explosives all around the ring, and right here in front of our broadcast table! I don't want to be blown to bits thank you very much! [Extreme rolls from the ring and goes after Kinsey, who again staggers close to the explosives, but then seems to realise where he is. He stops, and then backs up, and jumps over them! POP!!] LVK: What on earth?! Is he crazy? RP: I dunno, but if he is, so is Extreme! [Extreme also jumps over the explosives, as Kinsey comes to the ring railing, and slumps forward over it. Extreme finally reaches him, and grabs a handful of hair, holding Kinsey's face in place while he pummels it with punches!] LVK: I think Kinsey was trying to get as far as he could away from this match, but Alex Extreme is relentless! [Extreme then throws Kinsey headfirst over the railing, and Luke flops to the hard floor. Extreme climbs over after him, and continues the beating with kicks and punches.] RP: They're fighting out into the crowd! LVK: Well, in truth, Extreme's really the only one doing the fighting! Kinsey's just taking a good old-fashioned ass-whupping! [Kinsey drops to his hands and knees and Extreme, fatigued and more than a bit bloody himself, simply starts grabbing chairs from the empty rows, and one by one throws them at Kinsey! HARDCORE POP!!! Most of the chairs miss, but a few bounce off Kinsey, one coming down hard across the back of his head.] RP: Jesus, how much more of this can Kinsey take? [Kinsey can offer no resistence as Extreme pulls him to his feet, and leads him by the hair across the ringside area. They walk around one side of the ringside area, a few fans who have ventured down into the temporary "no mans land" scattering before them, and then come to a spot mere feet from the raised rampway. It is there that Extreme pulls Kinsey into a standing headscissors position.....] LVK: NOW WHAT?! [Extreme swings Kinsey into the air powerbomb-style, and but instead of dropping him downwards, he *throws* him forward, releasing him and letting him go flying into an area of empty chairs.....] *KAH-LAANNKKKK-THUUUDD-CLACK-THNKKKKKKKK!!!!!!* [GIGANTIC HARDCORE/PROTEST POP!!!!!!] RP: A RELEASE POWERBOMB THROW INTO THE ROWS OF SEATING - THAT'S WHAT!!!!! LVK: THE IMPACT WAS INCREDIBLE!!! KINSEY ONLY HAD STEEL CHAIRS TO BREAK HIS FALL!!! RP: I gotta think that the match is over after that! Kinsey's gotta be out cold!! [Extreme turns and walks away, climbing over the railing and up onto the raised rampway. There he struggles to his feet, stopping to arch his back painfully, and then continuing on into the ring. He grabs Teddy Lancaster by the shirt and gives a tired wave out towards Kinsey....] LVK: He's telling the referee to count, but he can't do that unless Kinsey's in the ring! RP: And he's telling Extreme that! [Extreme drops his head in frustration, and then walks back out onto the rampway and drops back to the floor in the crowd. He walks back over to where Kinsey is lying amongst the debris of several chairs, and drags his semi-comatose opponent to his feet.] LVK: Extreme's now bringing Kinsey back into the ring, and by the looks of it, it's all over fans! Luke Kinsey has taken too many big hits, and lost way too much blood - he's barely conscious at this point! [Dragging Kinsey past and through rows of chairs, Extreme then throws him up onto the rampway and climbs up after him. He then drags him up again, and pulls him into the ring, where he lets Kinsey flop facefirst to the mat. Looking around for inspiration, Extreme spies the length of bloody barbwire he used earlier, and takes hold of it.] LVK: OH NO! Not again! [Pulling Kinsey up into a sitting position, Extreme then begins to wrap it around him, but this time chooses the upperbody instead of the head. He gets the wire around Kinsey's chest twice, pinning his arms in place, and then wraps it together.] RP: It's like a freakin' barbwire straitjacket! LVK: Just when we thought this couldn't get any more sick! [Kinsey pushes up from his knees to a standing position, a hard thing to do without arms, but he manages to do it without falling over. Extreme meanwhile, grabs a chair lying nearby.] LVK: KINSEY IS DEFENSELESS!!!! *KAH-DAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNKKKKKK!!!!!* [DEAFENING PROTEST POP as Extreme brings the chair down on the top of Kinsey's skull extra hard. Kinsey is unable to break the impact with his arms, so takes the full brunt of the blow on the top of his head. He drops to one knee, and then pops back to his feet, staggering forward and then back like some kind of drunk armless man.] LVK: GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY!!! RP: I...I've never seen anything like that!!! Extreme's gonna damnwell kill him! *KAH-DAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNKKKKKK!!!!!* LVK: NOOOOOO!!!! SOMEBODY STOP THIS!!!! [The second blow is even harder, and finally Kinsey is taken off of his feet, as he takes a step forward and then flops facefirst to the mat, the impact being extrahard without any arms to break the fall.] RP: Kinsey's like a big, bloody pinata! LVK: Rick, this is no time to be making jokes! Luke Kinsey's own stubborn pride is somehow keeping him conscious, but all it's going to do is get him a bed in the Intensive Care Unit of the local hospital! RP: Don't worry Van Keel, it's over! Extreme's telling Lancaster to count, and there's no damn way Kinsey's getting up now! *ONE!* *TWO!* *THREE!* *FOUR!* *FIVE!* *SIX!* *SEVEN!* *EIGHT!* [Kinsey rolls over onto his back, his eyes still closed from behind the mask of drying blood.] *NINE!* *TEN!* *ELEVEN!* *TWELVE!* *THIRTEEN!* [Kinsey rolls back onto his stomach, and pushes his knees underneath him.] *FOURTEEN!* *FIFTEEN!* [He then pushes up to his knees, swaying back and forth uncontrollably.] *SIXTEEN!* *SEVENTEEN!* [He pushes up to one knee, his eyes staring with a far-off look in them.] *EIGHTEEN!* [DEAFENING FACE POP!!!!] RP: NO....F[bleep]ING.....WAY!!!! LVK: For all money, Kinsey should be unconscious right now, but somehow he is finding the strength, the inner resolve... RP: The stupidity! LVK: ....to keep getting back to his feet! [Alex Extreme sees what is happening, and rolls from the ring, as Teddy Lancaster starts undoing the wire from around Kinsey. Extreme ducks below the side of the ring, and then pops back up with....] RP: That bag that Extreme brought out with him! [He opens the bag, and rummages through it, before producing...] LVK: What is that? RP: OH CRAP!! A coal miner's glove!! OLD SCHOOL!! [Throwing the bag up onto the rampway, Extreme then rolls into the ring with the glove on his hand.] LVK: Kinsey's finally free of the barbwire, but he doesn't see Extreme coming! *THWACKKK!!!* RP: HOT DAMN!!! HE NAILED KINSEY WITH IT!!!! [Kinsey goes down hard and stays down. Extreme bends down and picks up the loop of barbwire, and begins wrapping it around the glove! BIG ASS SHOCK POP!!!] LVK: OH DEAR GOD!!! WHEN WILL THE MADNESS END?! RP: Hey, you've gotta give Extreme points for ingenuity, even if he is a walking fruitcake! [Finished wrapping the barbwire around the glove, Extreme then rolls on top of Kinsey, straddling his chest. With his ungloved his hand he grabs a handful of blood-clotted hair and drags Kinsey's head off the mat, and then swings with the gloved hand....] *THWACK!* [PROTEST POP!!!!] *THWACK!* *THWACK!* *THWACK!* *THWACK!* *THWACK!* LVK: EXTREME IS JUST POUNDING AWAY AT KINSEY'S HEAD WITH THAT BARBWIRE-WRAPPED GLOVE!!! RP: AND NOW EVEN MORE BLOOD IS FLOWING FROM KINSEY'S HEAD!! HOW CAN ONE MAN TAKE THIS MUCH OF A BEATING!?!?! [Extreme rolls off, throwing the glove to the mat in a tired fashion. He stands over Kinsey, yelling "come on Alex! Get up! Get up!", followed by more insane babbling. But to his shock, Kinsey does just that, rolling over and pushing up to his knees, his entire upperbody drenched in blood and his white eyes providing a striking contrast.] RP: How the hell does he do it? He keeps getting up! LVK: It beats me Rick! [Extreme clearly didn't count on this, and his expression becomes a mixture of anger and surprise. Then he turns and walks back over to the rampway, and to his bag of goodies. Picking it up, he dumps the contents onto the rampway, bends down, and takes hold of what he was looking for.] LVK: What is that?! [HUGE REALISATION POP!!!] RP: A GODDAMNED TAZER!!! LVK: YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!! RP: EXTREME'S HAD ENOUGH - HE WANTS TO FINISH IT NOW!!! [Kinsey pushes up to his feet, and Extreme walks forward, clicking on the tazer and holding it in the air....] *CLACK-CLACK-CLACK!* LVK: LISTEN TO THAT!!! GOD-KNOWS-HOW-MANY VOLTS OF ELECTRICITY WAITING TO SURGE INTO LUKE KINSEY'S BODY!!! [Extreme then rushes forward, the tazer thrust out in front of him. But Kinsey doesn't just stand and wait for it to come. He suddenly bends down, and scoops something up into his hands, moments before imminent impact.....] *FWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!* [SHAKE THE FOUNDATIONS FACE POP!!!!!] LVK: OH MY DEAR GOD!!! KINSEY WITH A BLAST OF THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER RIGHT INTO EXTREME'S FACE!!!! RP: SON OF A BITCH!!! [Extreme drops to his knees, clutching to his white-splattered face, screaming in pain as the huge cloud of white smoke clears. Kinsey drops the fire extinguisher, and drops to one knee, doubling over in exhaustion and pain.] LVK: Just when we thought Luke Kinsey was little more than a walking punching bag, he comes back! Incredible! *KIN-SEY!! KIN-SEY!!* *KIN-SEY!! KIN-SEY!!* *KIN-SEY!! KIN-SEY!!* *KIN-SEY!! KIN-SEY!!* *KIN-SEY!! KIN-SEY!!* [The chant of his name echoing around the historic stadium, Kinsey climbs back to his feet, as across the ring, Extreme staggers about blindly. Kinsey steadies, summons up all of his strength, and then charges...] *THWAAAAAAACCKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!* LVK: BIG BANG SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPERKICK!!!!!!! [DEAFENING FACE POP!!!!] RP: HOLY SHIZNIT!! Extreme went flying out onto the rampway!! WHAT A KICK!!! [Kinsey takes a moment to collect his breath and his thoughts again, and then walks out onto the rampway after Extreme. He drags him to his feet, a fist clenched in front of his chest in a sign of rejuvenated defiance and some clarity showing in his eyes for the first time since the start of the match.] LVK: OH! A right hand to Extreme's head! And another! Luke Kinsey is somehow finding a second wind, which is absolutely remarkable! RP: Especially since he's lost probably a third of his body's blood supply, and taken more big blows to the head than all of Mike Tyson's girlfriends combined! [Kinsey then turns to face the ringside area, with the explosives sitting mere feet below, and pulls Extreme into a standing headscissor. The crowd rises and goes beserk in anticipation....] LVK: HE'S GOING TO POWERBOMB EXTREME OFF OF THE RAMP ONTO THE EXPLOSIVES!! RP: Extreme tried doing that a couple of times, but couldn't pull it off! CAN KINSEY?! [No, he can't. Kinsey tries to pull Extreme up, but finds that he doesn't have the strength, and simply slumps down to his knees. DISAPPOINTMENT POP!] LVK: He doesn't have the energy to do it! Kinsey's taken way too much of a beating! [Kinsey gets back to his feet, and drops down into the crowd, dragging Extreme down with him, to a HUGE POP! He then drags him through the rows of chairs, and through a crowd of fans who have ignored security and made it down into "no man's land", all the way around to the side of the ring, just behind the railing.] LVK: This is very reminiscent of earlier, except that Kinsey is now the one in control! How the balance of a match can change in just a few short minutes! [Kinsey takes a big swing, and punches Extreme square in the jaw, knocking him up and over the railing, back into the ringside area! PANIC POP!!] RP: ARGGGHHH!!! [....] LVK: Phew! Extreme fell short of the explosives! [With Extreme lying in the 4-foot space between the ring railing and the line of explosives, Kinsey climbs over the railing, and drags him to his feet. He stuns Extreme with a few more punches, and then pulls him into a front chancery, Kinsey's back to the explosives! ANTICIPATION POP!!!!] RP: OH CRAP!!! HE'S GONNA SUPLEX HIM INTO THE EXPLOSIVES!!!! RUN FOR COVER!!! LVK: BUT KINSEY'LL SURE LAND IN THE EXPLOSIVES TOO!!! RP: I DON'T THINK HE CARES!!! [Kinsey steadies, and then tries to lift, groaning in pain and effort. Extreme's feet come a few inches off the ground, but then fall back to the floor. Kinsey tries again, but the same thing happens! He gives up, dropping to one knee, and letting Extreme flop back against the railing. DISAPPOINTMENT POP!] RP: He can't do it! Kinsey hasn't got anything left! [Kinsey gets back to his feet, and turns looking towards the ring, and then back at Extreme. He then backs up, and runs and jumps over the explosives, bringing a short roar of concern from the fans. But he clears it, and rolls up into the ring.] LVK: Where's Kinsey going now? RP: I have no freakin' idea! [Getting to his feet in the ring, Kinsey walks all the way across to the other side of the ring, and then keeps going up the rampway.] RP: Is he leaving? Has he decided that he can't win, so he's quitting? LVK: No way! That doesn't sound like something Luke Kinsey would do! [Stopping a good 10 feet up the rampway, Kinsey turns, and locks his sights on Extreme, all the way on the other side of the ring. He pauses, takes a couple of big breaths, clears some blood-clumped hair out of his eyes, and then sets off running!] LVK: Oh no...no.....no..... [He runs all the way through the ring, and just as he reaches the other side of it, he launches into the air, no ropes in the way to impede him. He launches headfirst, flying over the explosives, and flipping forward. Extreme has straightened up, not using the railing to support himself anymore, but he can do nothing but stand and brace for impact....] LVK: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *THU-KLAAAAAAAAAANKKKKKKKKKK-THCKCKK-DDDDDDD!!!!* [TEAR THE F**KING PLACE DOWN HIGHSPOT POP!!!!!] RP: HOLY SWEET MOTHER OF F[bleep]K!!!!! LVK: A RUNNING TOPE CON HILO WHICH STARTED ON THE RAMPWAY - HE LAUNCHED HIMSELF *OVER* THE EXPLOSIVES ONTO EXTREME!!! I HAVE *NEVER* SEEN ANYTHING THE LIKES OF THAT IN ALL MY YEARS!! RP: F[bleep]ING INCREDIBLE!!! [Kinsey and Extreme lay like scattered ten-pins, Kinsey upside down with his legs over the railing and his shoulders against the ringside floor, and Extreme on his side, parallel with the railing. Teddy Lancaster rolls from the ring, but then decides that he's not going to try to get over the explosives, so watches from a distance.] LVK: One thing is definitely for sure fans - Luke Kinsey and Alex Extreme have held nothing back here tonight. They've fought each other to the edge of unconsciousness, pounded the life out of each other, and spilt more blood than we could ever imagine! [Kinsey rolls over, his legs flopping down to the floor, and he then pushes over onto his hands and knees, shaking his head feverishly to clear it. He stands, wobbles, and then falls over the ring railing into the crowd, crashing down onto his back! POP!!] RP: Look at him! Kinsey knocked the crap out of himself with that crazy-ass flying maneuver! LVK: Rick, I don't think either of these men have ever been concerned about their own wellbeing, and tonight they've definitely proved it! [Kinsey staggers to his feet and then starts stumbling his way off into the crowd. He stops, gets his bearings again, and then makes a right, stumbling through chairs and fans blindly, until he comes back to the rampway. He lifts himself up, but then flops onto his back, his sudden burst of energy over. Meanwhile, Extreme has pulled himself to his feet using the railing, and he stumbles his way along the inside of it like a blind man using it to guide himself.] RP: I'm honestly surprised that either of these wrestlers are standing right now, let alone *both* of them! [Extreme makes it to the rampway, and climbs up with Kinsey. He drags Kinsey up to his feet, and swings a punch, but Kinsey blocks it! POP! Kinsey then fires in a couple of his own, as the crowd noise escalates!] LVK: Kinsey pounding away at Extreme! OH! And a particularly-hard right hand sends Extreme staggering back up the rampway! [With Extreme staggered, Kinsey suddenly lunges at him....] RP: BIG BANG! LVK: NO! Ducked by Extreme! [BIG PROTEST/HEEL POP!!!] LVK: OOHHHHH!!! LOW BLOW BY EXTREME!!! [Kinsey drops to the rampway, clutching at his groin region in shocked pain. Extreme rolls from the rampway and throws back the ring apron cover. He looks around underneath, and then pulls out.....] RP: A TABLE!!! WOOHOO!!! [BIG HARDCORE POP!!!] LVK: Just when we thought it couldn't get any crazier! [Extreme sets up the table in the gap between the explosives and the ring, parallel with the ring apron, and then bends down and picks up a small black bag.] RP: What's that? [Rick's question is answered as Extreme opens it and pours its contents all over the table.] LVK: THUMBTACKS!! [HARDCORE POP!!] RP: OH MAN!! [But Extreme isn't done. He rolls into the ring, and scoops up a pile of broken glass, showing no regard for the state of his hands. He drops the glass onto the table as well, before picking up the infamous strand of barbwire, and placing that on top to complete the table of doom!] LVK: WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS!! THUMBTACKS....GLASS....AND BARBWIRE!! RP: EQUALS PAIN!! LOTS OF PAIN...AND BLOOD...AND HURTING!! LVK: Yes Rick, we get the idea. [Extreme returns to Kinsey, and drags him up by the hair. He then leads him over to the ring apron next to the table, the fans beginning to buzz with morbid anticipation. Extreme slams a couple of punches into Kinsey's head, but then Kinsey answers back!] LVK: Kinsey and Extreme swapping punches - neither willing to quit even after everything they've gone through! [The punches go back and forth, until Extreme ducks a punch, and the scoops Kinsey up into a tombstone piledriver position! The fans barely have time to get their DEAFENING PANIC POP started before Extreme turns and jumps off the apron....] *KRA-KRAAAAAAACKKKKKKKKK-THWAAAAAAAAPPPPPPP-KKKK!!!!* [OH YEAH NOW THAT'S A F**KING HARDCORE POP IF EVER THERE WAS ONE!!!] RP: ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! LVK: OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!!!! A TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER FROM THE RING...THROUGH THE TABLE COVERED IN GLASS, THUMBTACKS AND BARBWIRE!!! RP: KINSEY'S HEAD!!! HE'S GOTTA BE DEAD!!! [Extreme immediately rolls away from the remains of the table, clutching at his right knee, while Kinsey simply flops onto his stomach like a dead fish. Teddy Lancaster slides from the ring with instant concern on his face.] LVK: THE TOP OF KINSEY'S HEAD WAS DRIVEN RIGHT DOWN INTO ALL OF THE JAGGED, SHARP OBJECTS!!! I DON'T BELIEVE IT!!! [While Lancaster checks on Kinsey, Extreme rolls into a sitting position, and pulls his right kneepad down. The camera zooms in closer, as the kneepad moves out of the way to reveal a huge, deep cut across the knee.] RP: OH! Oh....I'm gonna barf! LVK: EXTREME BUSTED OPEN HIS KNEECAP!!! HOW TRULY SICKENING!! RP: Both of his knees landed on the glass and tacks and stuff too! Just like Kinsey's head! LVK: There is real concern right now fans, for the well-being of Luke Kinsey, after that crazy, crazy maneuver! [Lancaster finishes checking on Kinsey, and then climbs back up into the ring. He looks around, and then starts a double count!] RP: This is the way it's gonna end! Neither of them'll beat the count! LVK: Teddy Lancaster deciding to change the rules and count even though they're outside the ring - just to get this match over with! *ONE!* *TWO!* *THREE!* *FOUR!* *FIVE!* *SIX!* *SEVEN!* *EIGHT!* *NINE!* *TEN!* *ELEVEN!* *TWELVE!* RP: EXTREME'S UP!!! [BIG HEEL POP!!!] *THIRTEEN!* *FOURTEEN!* *FIFTEEN!* *SIXTEEN!* RP: IT'S OVER! KINSEY AIN'T GETTING UP!!! EXTREME WINS!!! *SEVENTEEN!* *EIGHTEEN!* *NINETEEN!* [HUGE MOTHERF**KING SHOCK/FACE POP!!!!!] LVK: HE'S UP!!! LUKE KINSEY SHOULD BE ON A STRETCHER BEING TAKEN TO HOSPITAL RIGHT NOW, BUT SOMEHOW HE'S MADE IT BACK TO HIS FEET!!! RP: ONE SECOND!!! One more goddamned second and Extreme would have won! [Limping badly on his right leg, Extreme grabs Kinsey and rolls him into the ring....] *KIN-SEY!! KIN-SEY!!* *KIN-SEY!! KIN-SEY!!* *KIN-SEY!! KIN-SEY!!* *ARGH-SEE-DUB!! ARGH-SEE-DUB!!* *ARGH-SEE-DUB!! ARGH-SEE-DUB!!* *ARGH-SEE-DUB!! ARGH-SEE-DUB!!* LVK: LISTEN TO THESE FANS!!! 60,000 SCREAMING TEXANS LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF THIS!!! [Extreme drags Kinsey to his feet in the ring, Luke now resembling a car accident victim, his head covered in thick blood, his upper body splattered in the crimson life-juice, and several deep cuts showing on his arms, and legs. He can offer no resistence as Extreme grabs his head, and pulls it into an inverted facelock....] RP: OHHHH!!!! HERE IT COMES!!!! [The fans rise in panicked anticipation......] *THUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!* LVK: THE EXTREME DEATH DROP, AND NOW IT MUST SURELY BE OVER!!!! RP: BUT WAIT!!! EXTREME'S ROLLING FROM THE RING!!! [Extreme rolls out and throws back the ring apron cover again. This time he pulls out another table, but this one's different from the last. It's a thicker, sturdier one.] LVK: ANOTHER TABLE?!?! KINSEY'S NOT EVEN MOVING AS IT IS!!! [Extreme slides the table into the ring, and climbs in. He folds out the legs, setting up the table right next to the apron. Then he rolls Kinsey up onto it. HARDCORE ANTICIPATION POP!!!] RP: I dunno what Extreme's got in mind, but it's gonna be big! LVK: He's got the table set up *in* the ring! [Extreme then climbs up onto the table himself, causing the crowd volume to kick up another level. He stands, and pulls Kinsey up into a standing headscissor, Kinsey's back to the ringside area....and the explosives!] LVK: OH....MY....GOD!!! RP: HE'S GONNA FINISH IT IN STYLE!!! HE'S GONNA POWERBOMB KINSEY INTO THE EXPLOSIVES FROM OFF OF THAT TABLE!!! [Extreme steadies, summons all of his energy, and then with a big heave of effort, hoists Kinsey up in a powerbomb lift. He leaves him up there for a few long seconds, and then sends him downwards.... ....but Kinsey rolls through into a huracanrana!! The momentum whips Extreme over, but sends both of them soaring off of the table, through the air.....] RP: GET DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWNNNN!!!!!!!!! ***KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*** [The explosion is deafening, as the entire "trench" of explosives around the ring erupts into a huge burst of white energy! The camera shot goes completely white, and an audible thud is heard as the cameraman is blown off of his feet.] [A few seconds later, the smoke begins to clear, and by now the camerashot has moved to one from somewhere up in the stands. Smoke continues to linger around the ring, and the first thing we see is Teddy Lancaster down on his hands and knees, curled up to escape the blast.] LVK: *cough* *hack* [Then we go into a replay, this time from high above the stadium. We see the ring far below, and then suddenly....BOOM! The entire ring explodes in a flash of white, and a huge white mushroom cloud is sent skyward!] RP: Oh.....sh[bleep]. Am I dead? [Finally we return to a ringside camera, which sweeps to take in the ring, where Teddy Lancaster is struggling back to his feet, and the announce table, where Rick and Larry are recovering, saved by their protective helmets. White smoke still lingers around the line where the explosives stood.] LVK: *cough* Oh....my....dear.....lord. *cough* Rick, are you alright? RP: Am I dead? LVK: No you're not dead - but that was.....wow. [Teddy Lancaster looks around, and then suddenly throws both arms into the air.] LVK: We still can't see Luke Kinsey or Alex Extreme, but the referee is starting a count regardless! RP: He can count to a million, because they aren't getting up! Not in a million years! *ONE!* *TWO!* *THREE!* *FOUR!* *FIVE!* *SIX!* *SEVEN!* *EIGHT!* *NINE!* *TEN!* *ELEVEN!* *TWELVE!* [The smoke starts to clear slightly.] *THIRTEEN!* *FOURTEEN!* *FIFTEEN!* [The smoke clears some more, but still not enough to see anything.] *SIXTEEN!* *SEVENTEEN!* LVK: WAIT A MINUTE! I SEE SOMETHING!!! [A silhouette can be seen through the smoke - the outline of a standing figure.] *EIGHTEEN!* [The smoke clears a bit more, and silhouette starts to become an actual figure....] *NINETEEN!* RP: Is that.... [And finally it clears enough to see.....] LVK: KIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNSSEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!! [At the sight of Luke Kinsey, bloody, beaten and a bit burnt around the edges, standing, using the ring railing to hold himself up, brings A MAMMOTH FACE POP from around the stadium, gaining in volume as more and more fans see what is happening.] RP: HOW THE F[bleep]?!?!? [Teddy Lancaster looks closely, a little bit shocked, and then sees that Extreme isn't up, so throws both hands into the air one more time.....] *TWENTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!* [SHAKE THIS OLD STADIUM TO THE GROUND FACE POP!!!!!!!] LVK: CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!?! KINSEY WINS!!! KINSEY DAMN-WELL WINS!!!! [Teddy Lancaster turns and calls for the bell, but is hardly audible over the amazingly-loud crowd noise, as nearly every fan in the building is on their feet celebrating.] *DING DING DING!!!* LVK: LUKE KINSEY WAS JUST TAKEN CLOSER TO THE BRINK OF DEATH THAN HE'LL PROBABLY EVER BE AGAIN FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE, BUT HE SURVIVED!!! HE SURVIVED AND OVERCAME THE GREATEST OF ODDS TO WIN THIS MATCH!!! RP: I....uh....how? [Teddy Lancaster rolls from the ring, and grabs for Kinsey's arm to raise it. But Kinsey doesn't quite know where he is or what's going on, and his instincts kick in. He spins, ducks under Lancaster's groping arm, and then turns....] *THWAAAAAACCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!* LVK: WHAT THE HELL?! KINSEY NAILED THE REFEREE WITH HIS BIG BANG SUPERKICK!!!! RP: HOLY CRAP! Now I've seen everything! [As the referee hits the ringside floor with a thud, Kinsey drops down and hooks his leg. CONFUSION POP!!] LVK: OH MY GOD!!! KINSEY IS SO DAZED, SO OUT OF IT RIGHT NOW HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON OR WHERE HE IS!! HE'S RUNNING ON INSTINCT! RP: What a crazy finish to a crazy match! [Kinsey rolls off of Lancaster onto his back, blinking up at the night sky in semi-consciousness. The camera switches back to the rampway, showing several crews of EMTs rushing down to the ring area.] LVK: It's finally over, and Luke Kinsey gets the win, but I don't think either of these wrestlers will be walking out of here tonight. RP: Nope, they're stretcher cases for sure! LVK: The medical staff are out here now, and while we get this....this....warzone....cleaned up, why don't you take a look at some comments made earlier today by the one, the only...Dan Kauffman! [Fade out, then into taped footage hours before Caged Rage 2 began. Crew workers are laying out the ringside floor seating, wheeling about dozens of carts of steel chairs. Other workers continue putting up the half-finished entranceway, the RiverTron just a skeleton at this point, the white fabric screen as yet unattached. Pan to the ring, surrounded by the ominous Rage in the Cage structure ... a Cell, as it is better known. Another worker stands atop the Cell, putting the finishing touches on the test run. The Cell will be torn down, then reconstructed later this evening. Standing next to the worker, on top of the Cell, clad in his street clothes ... Maryland tee-shirt, blue jeans, sneakers, his short dirty-blond hair peaking out of his Terrapins baseball cap ... stands Dan Kauffman. He looks down from the Cell, eyeing the entire arena as the workers continue on with their unenviable task of preparing the arena for tonight's event ...] DK: There's only one place to go from here, Devon. Trust me ... falling off of this thing ... is not exactly heaven on Earth. I know. I've been there. And in all likelihood, in a matter of hours I'll be there again. [Kauffman takes a deep breath, drawing it in slowly, all the while continuing to gaze down at a fate which will likely befall him before the night is done.] DK: The funny thing is ... you don't know yet, do you? For all of the accolades and performances and showstopping moments you've had in your career, Devon ... you've never experienced the Cell. Just like you haven't experienced something else in your career. [Kauffman smirks.] DK: Being the star. [Kauffman raises his hands ...] DK: Oh yes, you've been _a_ star for more than a year. You've been in the spotlight plenty ... and as much as it pains me to admit this, you deserve it more than I. But when's the last time you were the _brightest_ star? You can't answer that ... because it hasn't happened. [Kauffman pauses, walking around the Cell as the worker near him, oblivious to the soliloquy going on, simply does his job.] DK: I find it funny how, when you came to RCW in search of being "the man", you didn't come alone. No. Your friend from Texas came with you ... in support of you, it was said ... to make sure your accendence to the top of the wrestling world was not hindered. I find it funny how, when you look at things as they stand ... your friend's arrival alongside you makes one thing absolutely certain ... You'll never be the brightest star. You're doomed to shadows ... win or lose ... as long as Chris Courtade walks next to you. [Kauffman breathes in deeply.] That's what tonight is really about, Devon ... it's not about your paranoid drive for a World title. If it was ... you wouldn't _have_ to get in this damn cage tonight. I was more than happy to give you that title, and walk away after what's gone down the last two weeks, what with my emotional state fluttering like a torn flag in the wind. But no ... this is about the one thing ... the _one_ thing ... that no matter what you do tonight, you _still_ can't get your hands on. You want to be _THE_ star. You want to be it so damn bad ... and you can't be it. There's always someone standing in your way. The fact that at this time that someone is your best friend ... is merely a comical coincidence. [Kauffman pauses again, walking to the middle of the Cage ceiling, testing it for strength on the (likely?) chance he'll be walking up here again. The worker remains oblivious as he puts the final touches on the Cell.] DK: I've been _THE_ star, Devon ... if only for a few brief weeks several years ago, but I've been there. It's intoxicating, no doubt. I'd love to experience it again ... but I know I won't. Other men ... men such as yourself ... have taken over the reins, and I'm left with memories, growing dimmer and dimmer every passing day, of a time when I truly was on top of the world. I'm left with numbered days, my place in history already written, whether I like it or not, with the exception of a closing paragraph or two. But what _I_ still have ... is the chance, for one moment, to recall _part_ of what being on top is like. I'm left with a _chance_ to do what I love and, for one day, do it better than anyone else in the business. That's what drives me, Devon ... the chance, on any given night such as tonight ... to do something no one thinks I can still do ... and for one night, remember with more than a fading recollection what life was like on _top_. [Kauffman pauses, a slighty-disturbing smile growing larger and larger on his face ...] DK: Reality is, no one thinks I'm gonna win this match tonight. Not even my own, loyal fans ... the fans who've followed me passionately through the years ... believe I'll win this one. Maybe they're right. Maybe. I'm not going to concede defeat, Devon ... I'm going to enter this Cell ... for the fourth time in my career ... and I'm gonna show the world _one more time_ why at one time I was the very best in the business. I may win, Devon ... or I may not. But at the end of the day, the fact remains ... I'll still _know_ what it's like to be _the man_. And your shining star will still be hidden ... by those whose stars shine brighter. [Kauffman smirks as the shot fades out.] [The Cotton Bowl crowd, the largest single crowd for an RCW event to date, is standing on their feet, as they all glare in awe at the structure formerly known as the ring itself. The ring, now torn from it's old description, a mere shell of a "ring", is carefully constructed for the war that's about to begin. The ropes are now removed, and in it's place, lies three strands of what can only be described as hell. Cold steel, with at every 2 inches, a large spiked creation of steel. Put together, they're used to keep animals from roaming, protecting property...or in this case...for total carnage, in the most personal feud in the history of this company.] LVK: This is going to be something that I'll never forget folks. This is a barbed wire match...and in that very ring...lies what many claim the most painful few seconds a man can have in his life. And _inside_ that very creation...now stands two men...each very aware of the environment they are in. RP: I cannot, for one, believe that Juan Vasquez put himself in this environment. He's in Courtade's home...the only place he's ever called home...and in _that_ environment...he's in _his_ environment...such courage, such commitment...what a warrior! LVK: I'll give that little puss some credit, he's in the ring with what many claim to be the toughest man in this business. RP: That's called courage...look it up! LVK: Or it's called death...and we're about to find out! [Cut to David Stokes.] DS: The following match is a BARBWIRE MATCH! [The lights begin to flicker on and off as the ominous guitar riff of Monster Magnet's "Temple of Your Dreams" begins to play over the PA system. Finally, the venue becomes completely engulfed in darkness as a HUGE HEEL POP from the crowd can be heard.] #Wake up baby I'm comin' to you from the future# #Don't be suprised when I'm sittin' at the foot of your bed# #I bring you a light you could never see in the daytime# #Planting the seed of my perfume in your head# [...] _____BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!_____ [The lights return as a HUGE, LOUD, MASSIVE, BOOTYLICIOUS~! HEEL POP! fills the stadium, as they see our SAVIOR~!, the sensation sweepin' the nation and object of Katie Holmes' self-fingerization(Ewww!), he's so fine, he's so fine, when you see him, he blows your mind...Juan Vasquez(~!), standing in front of the curtain with an angry scowl on his face, and the River City title belt around his waist. Juan moves his head from side to side, staring out towards the crowd, before dropping his arm, DS: This match is a non-title match. Introducing first, weighing in at 238 pounds and hailing from Los Angeles, California.... #Well I've wasted enough of my time on the edge of forever# #And I've paid all the Goddamn dues that I wanna pay# DS: Here is the reigning River City Heavyweight champion...... "EL CHOLO" JUUUAAANNN VAAAAAAAAAASSQUEEZZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!! [HEEL POP!] #Never let them hear you beg, never let them know# #Your pillow nest of a dripping Gods is the place you go alone# #But late at night I hear you cry# #Your taste for dirt just makes me smile# #Have I got something warm for you# [Juan nods approvingly, before taking a long, slow walk towards the ring.] #Well I've wasted enough of my time on the edge of forever# #And I've paid all the Goddamn dues that I wanna pay# #If I can't slip into the thirteenth house of your twilight# #I'll plant a bomb in the temple of your dreams# #Plant a bomb in the temple of your dreams# [Upon reaching the ring, Juan looks at the barbwire warily, then carefully climbs into the ring, turning to look back up the rampway, looking more ready than he's ever been.] [Then...] #F**k you...because I _can_# [BLOW THIS STADIUM TO THE MOON FACE POP!!!] [The voice is followed by the ever familiar screeching sound. The deep bass kicks over the arena, as 60,000 Texans go absolutely balls-out beserk!] #Journey with me into the mind of a maniac doomed to be a killer since I came out the nutsac I'm in a murderous mindsate with a heart full of terror I see the devil in the mirror# ["Natural Born Killaz" blares over the stadium, as walking out of the back, to a face pop... "Cold Blooded" Chris Courtade.] DS: And his opponent....hailing from Dallas, Texas [HUGE MOTHERF**KING POP!] and weighing in at 281 pounds... "COLD BLOODED" CHRRIIIIIIISSSSS COUUURRRTTAAAAAAAAAADDDDEEEEEE!!!!!!!! #Barrel one touches your motherf**kin flesh Barrel two shoots your f**kin heart out your chest you see I'm quick to let the hammer go click on my Tec-9 so if you try to reck mine fool It's your bad time feel the blast of the chocolate bomber Infra red aimed at your head like your name was Sarah Conner Decapitatin I aint hesitatin to put you in the funeral home with a bullet in your dome I'm hot like lava you got a problem? I got a problem solver and his name is revolver It's like a deadly game of freeze tag I touch you with a 44 mag and your frozen inside a boddy bag nobody iller than this grave yard filler cap peeler cause...# [The crowd begins to sing along...] #I'm a natural born killa# [Courtade is wearing his now-familiar "Legend Killer" t-shirt and his usual attire. He steps into the ring and points at Rembrandt, while also locking an intense stare on his adversary.] ___ __ _________________________________________________________________ / __\ /__\ |___ \ / / / \// __) | BARBWIRE MATCH! / /___ / _ \ / __/ \____/ \/ \_/ |_____| "El Cholo" Juan Vasquez \ vs written \ "Cold Blooded" Chris Courtade by \ Buse \____________________________________________________________________ [And finally, the music stops, the crowd, still on its feet, glares in silent appreciation, as Chris Courtade, the Legend Killer, glares at Juan Vasquez, the man that many claim is the heart and soul of the RCW. Juan doesn't remove his eyes from Courtade either, as the two slowly move around the ring, locking eyes on each other, as they begin to size the situation up. As each man turns, all they see....people...and barbed wire.] LVK: The secret to this match isn't a secret...whoever takes the first plunge into the barbed wire...quite frankly is the loser in this match...that's about it. RP: There's gotta be a winner, ya putz! LVK: Yes, but regardless...if you hit the wire first...you lose. RP: Can't argue with that. [Suddenly, Courtade lashes out, attempting to snatch Juan by his head. However, Juan dodges out of the way, as Courtade puts the breaks on...mere inches away from the twisted steel, as the crowd lets out a sigh of relief.] RP: There's the difference...right there! LVK: I've got to admit...that's the only way Juan's gonna live through this match...using his head. The big Texan wants to kill...he's not interested in anything less. [Courtade looks back at Vasquez, who merely nods in his direction, as Courtade slaps his shoulder, and they begin to circle each other again. Yet again, Courtade attempts to get at Juan, Juan again ducking out of the way, but this time firing at Courtade with several rights and lefts as he rocks the big Texan...slowly...back...further...and further...] LVK: He's heading for the wire! RP: Come on Juan...one more shot! [The crowd rises to it's feet, suddenly letting out another huge sigh of relief as Courtade begins to fire back, sending Juan back realing.] [HUGE POP!] LVK: Courtade's got him on dream street...Courtade's firing away...Juan's tettering back and forth. RP: Come on Juan! [HUGE disappointed pop!] RP: YES! Juan's firing back...come on! Don't let up! LVK: Courtade's getting dangerously close to the barbed wire...he's really reeling right now...Juan's firing over and over again... ________________THUUUUUUUD!__________________ [HUGE POP!] LVK: Courtade spiked Juan! Quick DDT by the Legend Killer and Juan's flat on his back! RP: Damn't! But Courtade's still not with it. [Indeed he isn't. Courtade's slowly moving around the ring, rocking back and forth, still slightly stunned, as Juan gets to his feet.] RP: Juan's gotta be careful...he could be lulling him in here! LVK: Juan's not wasting time...he takes off for Courtade... [And Juan leaps in the air, turning his body side ways...as he heads towards Courtade. Courtade quickly sidesteps...as Juan slowly falls towards...] RP: HE BARELY MISSED THE BARBED WIRE! LVK: That was very, very close! [Courtade begins to pound right hands into Juan's skull, as the River City Champion begins to rock back and forth, slowly rocking each time, a little closer to the barbed wire that's a mere few inches from his back.] LVK: Juan's gonna feel the steel! RP: Come on Juan...don't do it...fight back! LVK: Vasquez is merely inches now...Courtade's peppering him with right hands to the skull...he can't hold on much longer...Courtade's stopping..he's rearing back for that one big last shot... [And as he does...a sudden, large heel pop comes over the Cotton Bowl, as Courtade doubles over in pain....Vasquez bringing the big man to half his power, with a carefully placed punch.] RP: WOOOOOO! BABY! LVK: What a slimy little bastard. He just blantantly low blow'd Courtade, and you're happy? RP: He's not in the wire...that's all I care about! LVK: Juan's to his feet...he's heading towards Courtade. Standing headscissors...what in the hell is this man going to do _now_?! [And with that, Juan underhooks Courtade, and leans backwards...] ____________THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!____________________ RP: YES! PILEDRIVER! ON THAT NECK! LVK: And the game begins for Juan Vasquez, as he drives the neck of Courtade into the mat, the same neck he nearly broke at War Games, with an assisted piledriver with he and Rembrandt nearly taking a man's life, much less his damn career. RP: The sheer brilliance of this man continues to come through. He's gonna cripple that "Legend Killer" craphead tonight...in his own damn hometown! LVK: Kinda biased aren't you? RP: No, I'm honest...the most honest color man in this business! LVK: Meanwhile! Juan's working Courtade over something aweful here folks, he's really taking it to the Texan. Courtade's damn near busted open by Juan's right hands, let alone anything else he's done. [Juan gets Courtade to his feet, and as he gets to his feet, Juan grabs his arm, and begins to fire him across the ring...] LVK: Courtade's going for a riiiiiiideeeeee... [But Courtade, eyeing the cold, painful barbed wire, puts the brakes on, clamping his feet on the mat, within seconds of hitting the cold steel barbed wire, and his flesh being torn.] RP: Damn't! Courtade can't do that! He's the most unagile man in the history of this business...what in the hell is he doing something like that?! LVK: It's called survival...plain and simple. RP: Juan's getting frustrated...easy Juan...easy! [Juan heads over to Courtade...who fires back, nailing Juan with several right hands, as Juan rears back slowly, heading towards the ropes, as he does so...Courtade grabs _his_ arm, and attempts to send him across the ring...] RP: NO!NO!NO!NO!NO! [As Juan rotates his body...he refuses to let go of Courtade...] LVK: REVERSAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Courtade refuses to let go as well, as after he rotates, he pulls Vasquez to him....and...] ____WHAAAAACK!_____ [HUGE POP!] LVK: Short armed lariat by the Texan! And this place is going nuts! RP: Get up Juan...come on! LVK: Your hero's in trouble now! The big Texan is on his feet, and this place is going completely nuts! Courtade's stalking Juan...and Juan's _out_! That short armed lariat completely knocked him goofier then a pet coon. RP: .... LVK: What? RP: .... LVK: Courtade's got Juan to his feet...and he's gonna toss him into the wire! [Courtade begins to whip Juan into the wire, but Juan quickly reverses, by locking his arms around Courtade...and firing Courtade with a belly to belly suplex, shocking the Cotton Bowl crowd...and probably his self.] LVK: The holy hell?!? RP: Like you said earlier...it's about survival right now...Juan's doing whatever he can to survive...plain and simple. LVK: Juan's still not all the way there, but he's _got_ to capitalize on this right now. Courtade's stunned by the suplex by Juan, and he's on dream street again. Juan's gotta take his turn... [And that's just what Juan does...he grabs Courtade by his arm...] RP: YEEEEEEEESSSSSS!!!!!!! [Courtade begins to head towards utter hell...and this time...] LVK: GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD GOD! [Nothing stops him from completely collapsing into the net of barbed wire. The Cotton Bowl crowd gasps in shock, many of them cringing, whincing at the sight of Courtade's chest flesh, stuck in the barbed wire, as the Texan lets out a huge yell of pain, and Juan drops to a knee, still gathering himself. Courtade slowly begins to pull himself off the barbed wire, as the camera zooms in on his chest, the shreds of skin staying on the wire spokes, as Courtade finally falls back on the mat, his chest blood red...] LVK: Sweet God in heaven...that's just... RP: Sick...frickin' sick. LVK: Both men agreed to this...an argh cee dubbya first...but this is ridiculous...Courtade's been taken to the barbed wire...and his chest is a complete mess of scared skin and blood. I don't think I was prepared for this. RP: I don't think anyone was. This crowd is dead silent, in shock...hell, even Juan is looking at Courtade akwardly. The ref's checking on Courtade...Juan's carefully walking towards Courtade... [As he does so, Courtade reaches out...and grabs Juan's ankle.] LVK: He's got Juan! RP: Crap! LVK: Courtade yanked Juan close to him...and he's grabbing at Juan's legs...he's trying to get any piece of Juan he can...Juan's trying to get to his feet...but Courtade's not letting him go... [And then, with despiration in his eyes, Vasquez looks back at the blood soaked Courtade, as Courtade's eyes, full of hate and anger, glare back at him...and does the only thing he can, to escape the clutches of a pissed off man...hell bent on revenge...] RP: YES! HE KICKED HIM IN THE FACE!! LVK: HOLY CRAP! JUAN VASQUEZ JUST KICKED COURTADE IN THE FACE!!! RP: Courtade's bleeding again! LVK: He may have broken his nose! [Juan then begins to stomp away on Courtade, who's still clutching his face and chest. Juan gets Courtade to his feet, and begins to work him over with a series of rights and lefts, before he grabs Courtade's arm...and whips him across the ring...] RP: AGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNN! [The warrior from Texas takes a path across the ring, as his body turns in momentum...Courtade heading back first into hell...unable to stop himself...] LVK: OH GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD! [Yet again, stunned silence from Courtade's hometown fans, as their own son, lays in the corner slowly pulling himself out of the corner, his arms pulling off the barbed wire first, then slowly his back, as he leans foward from against the barbed wire ropes, bleeding all over his back, his arms slowly trickling with blood as well. Courtade screams in pain, as he looks at Vasquez...who...does the unthinkable...he flips Courtade off...as he takes a running start...] [And with hate in his eyes...he heads towards the man that tried to take his life...] RP: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO JUUUUUUUANNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!! [And as he tilts his body, attempting to drop kick Courtade into the barbed wire corner yet again...Courtade merely drops to the mat...and rolls out of the way....as the camera zooms in...to the horror...] LVK: SOMEONE STOP THIS NOW! [HUGE BLOOD THRISTY POP!] [And there we see, the River City Champion, the man many consider the brightest of all stars in the RCW...merely laying in a shredded mess of barbed wire, his legs caught in the sharp steel net of hell, as he yells out in pain, and the RCW official heads over to the corner, and begins to help Juan out of the corner, slowly pulling the barbed wire off Juan's legs, bits of his pants, and his skin still embedded in the barbed wire. Courtade, meanwhile, backs up towards the other corner, merely attempting to soak in the situation, and collect himself, as Juan slowly slides towards the center of the ring, getting to his knees.] LVK: My eyes are not believing this...this is absolutely sick! RP: I don't like the look in that sick frick's eyes! [The camera zooms to Courtade's face, blood slowly drying on his cheek, as he glares at Juan, before taking off towards the man that tried to paralyze him...and as he gets closer and closer...he raises his knee...and charges...right towards Juan's face...] ____________THWAAAAAAAAAAAAACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!____________________ [HUGE POP!] RP: HE BROKE HIS DAMN FACE!! LVK: Courtade did a running knee lift to the face of Juan Vasquez...and God as my witness...he just broke every bone in Juan's face. Juan Vasquez is nearly knocked out, flat on the mat, and he's bleeding like hell! RP: Juan! Juan’s not gonna be the same! LVK: Courtade just broke his god damn nose....I can’t believe that. He just took off and broke his god damn nose. RP: I don’t know if I’ve ever seen two men, break each other’s nose....within the first few minutes of one single match. [Courtade glares down at Juan, who’s checking his nose, wondering what happened....wondering if it’s broken....or wondering if his entire face is broken. Courtade’s still bleeding on his chest and back, but seems unfazed, as he leans down, getting Juan to his feet. Courtade then lifts Juan up, and flapjacks Juan on the mat, causing him to grab at his face yet again.] RP: Courtade’s a damn animal....truly....a damn animal! LVK: An animal that’s on the hunt....the hunt for the carcass of Juan Vasquez....the man that tried to end his career! RP: Courtade’s just standing over Vasquez....Christ....he just looks evil! LVK: When you’ve pushed a man like Chris Courtade, like Juan Vasquez has....you turn a simple man into a machine....a blood thirsty, bad-ass....who won’t quit until he gets him some of Juan Vasquez! RP: You’re a fruit....a true fruit. LVK: Courtade’s getting Juan back up to his feet, and he’s gonna take ‘em to the wire! [Courtade grabs his arm, and attempts to take Juan....but Juan blocks, with his feet, stopping hard, and hitting Courtade in the stomach....] [And hooks Courtade’s arm over his head....] LVK: You’ve got to be kidding me! [And quickly lifts Courtade into the air....over his head.....] RP: YEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!! [And Courtade’s back crushes the top layer of barbed wire, as he slides off of the barbed wire, his back being shredded to pieces, and he falls to the floor, in extreme pain, yelling out to the Cotton Bowl crowd. The crowd simply stands in awe, as RCW officials check on Courtade, his back bleeding profusely, blood seemingly everywhere, as he squirms on his back. In the ring, Vasquez seems unfazed, as he stumbles back, still gathering himself. He looks at Courtade, as Courtade merely squirms on the ground, slowly looking back over his shoulder at Vasquez. Courtade begins to roll over, as numerous RCW officials check Courtade’s status, all wondering if he can continue....and they’re given their answer, as Courtade gets to his knees, and shoves back several officials, as he slowly follows, and gets to his feet, glaring at Juan the entire time.] LVK: That’s a sick, sick man....who’s beyond determined to punish Juan Vasquez, at any cost....even his own life. RP: This match should be stopped....and Juan should have his hand raised in victory! LVK: You wanna tell the man with a bloody body that, because I know I sure as hell don’t have the urge to tell him that. [Juan eyes Courtade, and looks away from him, seemingly turning his back on Courtade, and within an instant of doing so, he suddenly whirls back around, and begins to run with all his might in Courtade’s direction.] LVK: What in the hell?! RP: You’ve got to be kidding me. LVK: VAAAAAASSSSSSQQQQQQQQQQQQQUUUUUEEEEZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!! [And with that, Juan stops toward the ropes, and leaves his feet....] LVK: OHHHHHHHH MYYYY GGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDD! _______CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAANNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKKK_______ [And flies over the damaged top barbed wire rope....and lands on the chest of Chris Courtade, as the RCW officials collapse behind each man.] *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* LVK: I’ve never seen anyone that damn crazy....this is crazy! [The Cotton Bowl crowd roars in approval of the move, but quickly boos heavily as Juan Vasquez rises out of the rubble, and begins to slowly walk away, clutching his head slightly. Juan begins to shake it all off, as yet again, RCW officials check on Courtade, as he slowly rolls around on the floor. His back hit hard into the railing, the Texan legend slowly gets to his feet, clutching his back slightly, as Juan Vasquez whirls around yet again, and eyes Courtade. Vasquez, yet again with hate in his eyes, takes a running start, and hops off the ring steps, and takes flight, as he clotheslines Courtade to the cold Cotton Bowl floor, sending the crowd into a flurry of boos yet again. Juan gets to his feet, and raises his arms up high, as if celebrating....and he begins to walk away.] LVK: Vasquez is not wasting any single second here. He’s pulling out every single last stop he can, and I’ll be damned if he’s not taking it to Chris Courtade, in a match that he damn near designed, in his home town, in the arena he grew up watching the history of this business unfold before his eyes. Quite frankly, I’m stunned. RP: Why are you surprised? Why would you be surprised? Juan Vasquez is the brightest star this company’s possibly ever seen, and tonight, he’s making himself a legacy....and it’s at Courtade’s expense. [Juan walks back over to Courtade grabbing him by his hair, and takes him towards the ring. He carefully slides Courtade under the bottom wiring, and slides in the exact same way, as both men are yet again inside the ring once more.] LVK: Juan takes the action inside the ring once again. RP: I think Juan smells some blood....and I think it’s the blood of the “Legend Killer” himself, that overrated piece of crap! LVK: It’s ironic how tough you are when Courtade’s nearly dead. RP: I’m always that tough! LVK: Riiiiiiiiightt...Juan back in the ring now and he’s just peppering Courtade with right hands. This is truly amazing. Courtade’s bleeding like mad already into this match, and I’ll tell ya something folks....I don’t know if he’s gonna stop bleeding until the bell rings on this match. RP: Juan’s laying waste to Courtade right now....this is great, I love this. LVK: Vasquez truly is just beating the hell out of Courtade right now.....I truly can’t believe what my eyes are seeing. Juan’s got Courtade to his feet now....he’s taking Courtade by his arm.... RP: YES! LVK: NOT AGAIN!! [But this time, before Juan gets the chance to whip Courtade into the barbed wire, we see Chris Courtade, who’s home town begins to cheer wildly, as he plants both of his feet, stopping Juan’s attempt. Vasquez attempts again, yet the same process occurs, as Courtade plants his feet. Vasquez fires a right hand....] LVK: COURTADE! He’s fighting back! RP: NO! NO! NO! LVK: Courtade’s firing back at Juan....he’s firing away with right hands! [Enormous pop, as Vasquez begins to stumble back] LVK: Courtade’s got Juan on dream street.....Vasquez is nearly out right now.... RP: What the hell’s he doing?! LVK: Courtade’s got Juan by his head, and he’s taking him to the barbed wire! Courtade’s looking around the Cotton Bowl....and they’re telling him the same thing I am.....get him Chris....tear his face off!! RP: Well that’s unbiased! LVK: Screw bias....Vasquez attempted to end his career....I’m all for this! RP: Unlike Courtade, that tried to end Juan’s.....LIFE! LVK: And he damn near might try again tonight! [Courtade attempts to take Juan to the wire, but Juan restrains, trying with all his might to do anything he can to prevent going to the barbed wire. He blocks Courtade’s attempt with a back elbow, sending Courtade back slightly. Juan slowly backs out, as they exchange right hands, Courtade turning his back towards the barbed wire. Juan attempts one more right hand....but Courtade drops to his knees, quickly locking his feet around the foot of Juan Vasquez....] RP: GOD NO! [And drops Juan Vasquez with a drop toe hold, as Juan, seemingly in slow motion, falls forward....] LVK: GOOD LORD! FACE FIRST INTO THE BARBED WIRE!!!!!!! [And the crowd roars with approval, as the camera itself focuses Juan’s face, etched with pain. The look of a man, a man that’s seemingly taken the chance of a lifetime, to be here....on this night....to take the chance that he could destroy his arch nemesis, is priceless. Vasquez yells in pain, as the barbed wire is tangled within his hair, and within his arms and hands, as he luckily brought them up before he could be driven face first into the barbed wire. Courtade simply falls back, and turns to the crowd a large smile on his face, as he’s realized he’s turned the momentum in this match.] RP: Juan’s hurt! Someone send help! LVK: What in the hell are you talking about? RP: The man’s hurt, can’t you see....can’t you see?! LVK: They’re both hurt....and I doubt either would accept help right now. Juan Vasquez put himself, in this position, when he asked for this match. He knew the consequences, he knew what he was in for before he stepped inside the barbed wire....he just flat out knew. There’s no reason why he’d need help right....he wanted this....he needed this....his ego needed this to happen ....and it IS. [Officials slowly begin to unwrap the barbed wire from Vasquez’s hair, as Courtade begins to pound clubbing forearms into Juan’s back. Courtade then gets Juan to his feet....and spikes him to the mat with a thunderous DDT.] LVK: Wow! Spike DDT by Courtade, and this thing could be over quicker then you might think folks. RP: Oh come on Juan! You can do it! He’s only Chris Courtade....come on! LVK: As opposed too....? RP: Well, the other legends Juan’s destroyed before. LVK: The hell? I hardly call Eddie Jacobs or Tony Starks legends....more like laughs. RP: Well....they used to be! LVK: No....not then, not now....not ever. RP: Shut up! LVK: Courtade’s got your boy in trouble right now, and I guarantee ya , he won’t quit like the others did....he won’t quit until they have to roll Vasquez’s corpse out of the Cotton Bowl. [Courtade slowly gets back to his feet, after spiking Juan on his head, and gets Juan quickly back up, into a standing head scissors, and looks around the Cotton Bowl....as he double underhooks Juan, and lifts him high in the air.....] _____________TTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDD_____________ LVK: HUGE POWERBOMB BY COURTADE! THIS ONE MIGHT BE OVER!!! RP: NO! LVK: COURTADE GOES FOR THE COVER!!! ONE! TWO! TH- LVK: HE PICKED JUAN’S HEAD UP! RP: NO! JUAN KICKED OUT! LVK: THE HELL HE DID....HE CLEARLY PICKED HIS DAMN HEAD UP! RP: THE HELL HE DID....JUAN KICKED OUT....AND WE ALL KNOW IT! LVK: Courtade’s clearly not done here. It’s like he’s waiting, hunting his prey.... RP: Juan’s gotta get with it here....and quick....really quick! [Courtade gets Juan to his feet, and powers him back down with a thunderous right hand, sending the River City Champion to the mat hard. Juan slowly gets back, as Courtade grabs his head, and Courtade repeats, sending Vasquez to the mat with another huge right hand.] LVK: This is now just sickening....he’s just killing Juan. RP: Juan’s just baiting him....he really is....I know it....soon, you’ll see! LVK: What in the hell is Courtade doing now? [Courtade slowly, careful goes under the wire, as he pulls up the ring cover, and looks underneath the ring, and pulls out....] [HUGE POP!] LVK: TABLE!! RP: OH MY LORD! [Courtade lifts the table into the ring, over the bared wire ropes, and slowly, carefully, slides back into the ring. Courtade props the table up, and looks down at Juan. He slides the table behind he and Vasquez, as he leans down, getting Vasquez to his feet.] LVK: I DON’T EVEN THINK I WANT TO KNOW WHAT COURTADE’S ABOUT TO DO! [Courtade slowly gets Juan up again, and attempts to whip Juan to the ropes....] LVK: HERE.........WE..........GO! [But Courtade catches Juan’s momentum back, and carries him back towards him, grabbing him around the waist....and lifting him in the air.....] ______________CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCKKKKKKK__________________ ____________TTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDD_________________ *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* [Before sending Juan to the mat with a HUGE Spinebuster, as the Cotton Bowl crowd goes completely nuts.] LVK: SPINEBUSTER BY THE LEGEND KILLER! THROUGH A DAMN TABLE!! JUAN’S COMPLETELY OUT! RP: COME ON JUAN! LVK: Courtade’s going for the pin....after what he just put Juan through....I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d need to scrape him off the canvass. RP: This is horrible. LVK: COURTADE WITH THE COVER ATTEMPT!! ONE! TWO! LVK: THIS HAS GOT TO BE IT! THRE--- [SHOCKED POP!] LVK: Courtade did it again....he pulled Juan up....this is a mistake....this is a huge mistake in my opinion. I realize he wants Juan to be a dead man....but this is still about winning this match, and surviving....this is a mistake....I’m telling you it is! RP: I completely agree. It’s the arrogance of that bastard, shining through bright as the sun. He’s an egotistical prick that wants nothing better then to kill the savior of the RCW! LVK: I wouldn’t go that far, but I still think it’s a massive, massive mistake to be honest. Courtade’s had Vasquez down twice, but he seemingly doesn’t want to get this over....it’s like it’s never going to be enough. RP: Look at that egotistical jerk! LVK: Courtade’s getting a lot of joy out of this, as he’s soaking in the crowd reaction after putting Juan through a table with a massive, simply massive Spinebuster. [The camera pans to Juan, as he begins to stir, in the wreckage that used to be a perfectly good table, that’s now not even good for fire wood. Juan slowly rolls over, as Courtade shoots the crowd a Longhorn, causing a huge pop over the sold out Cotton Bowl stadium. The camera stays with Vasquez, however, as we can clearly see him grabbing a chard of that table, in his right hand, as he covers it up.] LVK: Vasquez just took a piece of that table....Courtade didn’t see it. RP: First off, I don’t know what you’re talking about. And secondly, even if Juan did that, Courtade wouldn’t have seen it, since that jackass was celebrating as if he had just won the damn match. LVK: Courtade’s sorting through the rubble, as the official helps him slide the wood out of the ring, and Courtade’s got Juan up to his knees again....and he’s putting him in standing head scissors yet again....this is gonna be the end of Juan Vasquez if he hits this....this is too much for any man to handle....truly, it is. [Courtade underhooks Juan again, and does the exact same as before, lifting Juan high in the air....but as he does....] RP: YESS!!! LVK: OH MY LORD! [Juan Vasquez lashes out, jabbing Courtade in the face with the piece of wood from the table, as Juan flops to the mat, the camera focusing on the face of Chris Courtade, a huge gash on his cheek now apparent due to the striking of the piece of wood by Vasquez. Juan gathers himself, still shaky as Courtade falls to his knees, clutching his face.] RP: That’s what happens when you roll the dice the way Courtade did. LVK: I hate to admit that....but you’re right. Courtade had Vasquez....and now he doesn’t. [Vasquez gathers himself, and begins to strike out at Courtade, laying waste to Courtade with several strong right hands, sending Courtade to his back, still clutching his face.] LVK: I get the impression that Juan Vasquez has reached his second wind....the same type of wind that’s led him to a string of victories over the years in the RCW....and to be what many call our franchise player right now. RP: Juan’s warming up! LVK: Vasquez gets Courtade to his feet, and he sends him back down with a massive right hand, stunning the big Texan. And now he’s grabbing Courtade by his legs, and it looks like he’s gonna make a wish.... [But instead, as the huge heel response would indicate.....] RP: Or he’s just gonna hit Courtade in the juevos and call it a night. LVK: This is the point in which Juan Vasquez sends this into overdrive in most every big match he’s ever had....but I gotta wonder if this time is different....because I know for a fact, not a single person has ever done the damage to him as Chris Courtade. RP: I don’t think that’s the case....in fact, I know Juan’s been looking forward to this match near his entire career. This is his night....his night to shine....his night to stake his claim at the top of this business, and I don’t think anything’s going to stop him. LVK: Vasquez is measuring Courtade right now....he takes a few steps back....and he drops a fist drop into Courtade’s skull. Vasquez up....and again....it really looks like he’s got this in overdrive. RP: Damn right he’s in overdrive....he’s completely in control right now....the only way it’s supposed to be. LVK: Vasquez is somehow waving to the back....this is not looking good at all right now.... [And a huge heel pop establishes that Juan’s wave was indeed for Rembrandt the man that nearly ended Courtade’s career with Vasquez at the famed War Games match from a month ago. Rembrandt hits the ring area, after his long walk, and slides something into the ring, as Vasquez leans down and grabs it.] LVK: Are those wire cutters? RP: You betcha! LVK: Vasquez sees Courtade gets up....Good Christ! He just rammed Courtade in the head with those wire cutters! And now he’s heading to the barbed wire! RP: He’s gonna cut the wires....and then carve Courtade up! LVK: Vasquez is having some problems....but it seems like he’s cutting enough. He’s working over the strand that he suplexed Courtade on a while back....and he’s finally freed it up! [Juan Vasquez begins to unstring the barbed wire as Courtade gets to his feet, and as he does so, Juan grabs the strand, and wheels it around.....] [The barbed wire glistening off the camera flashes....] ____________THHHHWAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKKKKKK_____________ [And slams against Courtade’s right arm, lashing into the famed lariat arm, as Courtade collapses forward, clutching his arm.] LVK: Vasquez has gone mad! He just lashed out at Courtade, hitting his right arm with that strand of barbed wire! I cannot believe this! RP: What can’t you believe? This is what both men signed up for....you said it yourself! LVK: Did you hear that? Did you hear that sound? The sound of the barbed wire lashing out against his arm? That’s not what this business about....that’s not what the RCW is about.... RP: No, but this is what two men, who hate each other more then anyone else in this world, do think this is about. This is kiddie glove material....this is the real deal. LVK: Vasquez isn’t of sound mind here....it’s apparent that Chris Courtade has made him act like a man that he probably didn’t acknowledge existed. This is a man that’s now standing over Chris Courtade, like Chris Courtade is a pile of charred flesh....and he’s willing to carve him up! [Vasquez glares down at Courtade, as he takes the barbed wire and slowly wraps it around his own fist.] RP: Juan....let’s rethink this now! LVK: Vasquez is wrapping barbed wire around his god damn fist....this has gotten way out of control now....he’s trying to mutilate Courtade. RP: No damn different then what Courtade would do to Juan Vasquez....I promise you. [Rembrandt slides a chair into the ring, as Vasquez props the chair in the corner, close to where he is, within a straight line of Chris Courtade, as the legend killer rolls around on the mat, seemingly writhing in pain.] LVK: Vasquez lines Courtade up....as Courtade’s on the mat....and he’s backing up into the corner, keeping a close eye on the barbed wire, I’ll guarantee ya that. RP: He’s got something heinous in mind....I promise you that. LVK: Juan’s taking off.... [And as the camera’s begin to flicker.....Juan strides, hitting the chair with one foot, taking flight.....] RP: HELL YES! [And as he does so....he turns his body slightly sideways....lowering his fist out.....] LVK: OH MY GOD! [And as the camera flicker.....] ______________THHHHHHUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD________________ RP: BARBED WIRE WRAPPED FIST DROP! LVK: You’ve got to be kidding me....he just impaled the face of Chris Courtade with a damn barbed wire fist drop. Folks, he just drove his fist, wrapped with that heinous, painful shredded steel, into the face of the Legend Killer, and this crowd is completely stunned....and I don’t blame them to be honest. RP: This is beautiful! [The camera shows Vasquez, shaking his fist wildly as he pulls the barbed wire off of his own hand, clearly showing the blood flowing from his own hand. Chris Courtade....well Chris Courtade’s a pile of blood in the ring, as he lays on his back, his face covered in blood, covering every inch of his image....as he lay on his back, “his” people in the stands, speechless, wondering if their hero has truly taken his last trip into the four cornered hell he called home.] LVK: It looks like Vasquez thinks that’s enough....he’s gonna finish this match luckily.... ONE! TWO! THRE- [HUGE HEEL POP!] LVK: That little son of a bitch. RP: I love it! That’s brilliant! [The picture shows it all....Juan Vasquez, his bloody hand in the hair of Chris Courtade, as he’s pulled Courtade off the count, in a fitting twist of irony, showing that he too....doesn’t want just the win.] RP: It’s perfect....Courtade wanted to make Juan pay....well, now? Now he’s returning the favor, in the only way he knows how too. LVK: What’s he up to now?! [Vasquez lets Courtade go....and grabs the strand of barbed wire....and heads towards the steel chair used as a prop. He then begins to wrap the barbed wire around the chair, slowly wrapping, making sure it fits very well on the chair. He then taps the chair on the ground, as Courtade begins to get to his knees. Courtade turns to Vasquez as he’s within inches of the barbed wire ropes. Juan eyes Courtade, and gives the ultimate insult to a man of pride, in his state....surrounded by his people.] RP: BEAUTIFUL! LVK: That little bastard flipped Courtade off....some class that is. RP: Wanna see class? Watch this CLASSY move! [And seemingly on cue, Vasquez lines Courtade up, and begins circling the middle of the ring, taking a path towards Courtade’s head. Vasquez extends his arms forward, clutching the chair in mid air as it slides into position of the prone face of Courtade....and with that.... ________________CLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAANKKKKKKKKKK____________________ LVK: You’ve got to be kidding me!! [But the worst is yet to come, as Courtade slightly shielded the blow....he falls backwards from the effects of it....] RP: YEEEEEEEES! [And collapses back against the barbed wire, as he yells out in pain, arching his back from the effects of the barbed wire, clearly evident on his face, that same bloody face etched in pain. Vasquez slides back towards the center of the ring, and turns to see Courtade, and ruthlessly smiles, as he sees the pain evident on his face. Courtade slowly begins to fall forward, the barbed wire releasing from his back, now simply a pile of shredded skin. His back a mask of blood, he slams his fist into the mat, clearly in pain. Quickly, the official checks Courtade, wondering if the match can even continue....wondering if the match will continue....and if Courtade wants it to continue.] LVK: No one’s going to think anything less of Courtade if he simply stops this now. RP: Are you kidding me? He asked for this when he tried to kill Juan Vasquez, and now he’s going to pay for this! LVK: You need help....you truly need help. [Vasquez begins to get to his feet, slowly limping, as he still shows some of the side effects apparently re-injured from bashing Courtade’s face in with the steel chair. Juan then heads to Courtade, still on his stomach, as he drags the prone body of Chris Courtade to the center of the ring. Vasquez then simply falls on top of Courtade, after flipping him over....and attempts to pin the Legend Killer....] ONE! TWO! THRE--- LVK: THAT SICK SON OF A BITCH DID IT AGAIN! HE PICKED COURTADE UP OFF THE COUNT AGAIN! RP: THAT KICKS SO MUCH ASS! LVK: What more will it take Juan? What more do you have to prove here....he’s damn near dead....when will it be enough?! RP: Obviously not until Juan Vasquez says so, because he’s the one that’s in control right now....and only him. [Vasquez gets to his feet, and arrogantly begins to walk around the prone body of Chris Courtade, as the crowd shows their appreciation.] LVK: He’s such an arrogant ass sometimes. RP: He’s not doing anything differently then Chris Courtade did....Courtade himself arrogantly pranced around the ring before hand.... [But this is different. It doesn’t seem Juan Vasquez is done. He grabs that same chair used before, and takes it in his hands, as he backs up from the limp body of Chris Courtade. Rembrandt slides another chair in the ring, as Juan Vasquez then props that chair up.] LVK: Is this one on one? Or is this all of Ego Max against Chris Courtade? RP: It’s no disqualification, that’s what it is....this is all legal, and you know it. LVK: Legal it might be....but what about ethical? This is a damn conspiracy. Vasquez has beaten the living hell out of Chris Courtade. Courtade’s gone into the barbed wire so many god damn times, I don’t think he’s ever gonna be the same, ever again. RP: That’s the rules they signed up for, when they entered into this match, and accordingly....I refuse to feel sorry for that man, for anything he’s had done to him....he’s earned it! LVK: You’re just as sick as they are.... RP: I’m not any sicker then Courtade, the man that attempted to literally kill Juan Vasquez. LVK: What’s your little “buddy” doing now? RP: It looks like he’s ready to drive the nail into the “Legend Killer”'s coffin.....will that make you cry? [Vasquez lines Courtade up again, taking the barbed wire chair in his hand, and he takes another running start, striding onto the chair....just as before....] LVK: HE’S TAKING FLIGHT AGAIN!! [And as he does, he slides the chair underneath himself.....and takes aim at the chest and head of the bad-ass from Texas....] LVK: GOOD LORD! THAT’S ENOUGH!!! [Only the picture can truly describe the scene. The fallen Courtade, on his back, the franchise of the RCW, his legs packed over the barbed wire wrapped chair, on top of Courtade’s chest and face.] LVK: ARABIAN FACE BUSTER USING THAT BARBED WIRE CHAIR!!! ON COURTADE’S HEAD!!!! RP: That’s it....it’s over....it’s completely over....there’s no way any human being kicks out of that....anyone! [Vasquez begins to slide off Courtade, as he begins to slowly pull the barbed wire chair, embedded in his legs, off of himself. Slowly he does, but his own pain evident, as he lay flat on his back, writhing slowly in pain.] LVK: It’s clear that took as much out of Vasquez as it did out of Courtade, Juan’s down....and he’s in a lot of pain. RP: Looks like he re-injured the legs yet again, more then likely the barbed wire pierced those wounds yet again. He’s such a warrior....a true warrior! LVK: He’s a maniacal sick man....that’s just beaten Chris Courtade, and that’s a damn shame....truly a damn shame. RP: Just roll over, and pin him Juan....that’s all ya gotta do....just pin him now. You’ve proved the point, and let’s begin that party you promised all of us. LVK: Vasquez is in a lot of pain, because he’s not making a move to pin Courtade, he’s not making a move period. RP: Come on Juan! Just pin him! LVK: The biggest match of his career....the biggest match, quite possibly, in the history of the RCW only inches away from being a victory for Juan Vasquez....but can he do it....can he finally pin his arch rival....the man that’s traded near death experiences with him for months now.... [And finally Juan does....flopping his arm over the bloody chest of Chris Courtade....for one last time.....] ONE! TWO! THREE--- [The words can’t describe the enormous pop that arises from the depths of the Cotton Bowl, as their hero, Chris Courtade, the man who’s been beaten to a bloody mess.....] LVK: KICKS OUT! HE KICKED OUT! HOLY CRAP!! I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST SAW THAT!!! RP: NO! SLOW COUNT! SLOW COUNT!! LVK: Slow count my ass....Courtade just kicked out of the most horrific onslaught of violence my eyes have ever seen. RP: That’s not possible....that’s just not possible. LVK: According to over 60,000 fans in the Cotton Bowl....it’s real possible. [Vasquez simply blinks repeatedly, seemingly in shock that Courtade did indeed kick out of all that. Vasquez gets to his feet, and looks down at Rembrandt, as he simply shakes his head in disbelief as well. Suddenly, Chris Courtade, the warrior, reaches down, and pulls out a second wind, a third wind, hell, whatever he’s got left in the tank.] RP: LOOK OUT! LVK: Courtade from behind.....school boy....he’s gonna steal this from Vasquez! ONE! TWO! THREE---- [HUGE SIGH] RP: YES! JUAN KICKED OUT! LVK: What a match....it was clearly evident a while back, that both of these men wanted to hurt each other, to maim each other....to prove something to each other....and now? Now these men want to escape, to simply leave this ring in one piece....and live to see another day. RP: This is not happening....he’s alive....how in the hell is he still alive?! [Courtade gets to his feet, stumbling around slightly, bleeding heavily, as he eyes Vasquez, blood covering his face, as Juan heads towards Courtade. Courtade catches Juan off guard, and nails him in the stomach....] LVK: HE CAUGHT VASQUEZ OFF GUARD! RP: NO! NO! LVK: SMALL PACKAGE BY COURTADE! HE’S GOT ‘EM! ONE! TWO! THREE---.... RP: GOOD LORD THAT WAS CLOSE! LVK: How’d Juan kick out? How in the hell did he kick out of that? RP: I don’t know, but this is heading down hill very quickly....come on Juan....come on! LVK: Courtade’s up....he’s on his feet....he’s shaking off the pain, and the bloodshed. He’s glaring at Vasquez, and he looks beyond pissed! RP: Juan....turn around! [Courtade lashes out at Vasquez, nailing him in the back of the head, as he begins to pummel Vasquez repeatedly. He takes Juan by his arm....and whips him across the ring....] RP: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! [And off goes the River City Champion, as he flies chest first into the barbed wire, as Courtade waits from behind.....] RP: GOOD GOD! LVK: Vasquez into the barbed wire, and he’s slowly pulling himself off the barbed wire! [HUGE POP!] LVK: This place is going nuts....I really cannot believe this....I cannot hear a single thing here folks. [The entire Cotton Bowl crowd rises to their feet, as they see their hero, slowly winding his shredded, bloody yet dangerous arm, as he sticks it high in the air, signaling the end all of Juan Vasquez.] RP: Noooooooooo! NO!NO!NO!NO! LVK: He’s lining Vasquez up....he’s gonna finish this off! [And as quickly as we say that....we see Tommy Stephens rush the ringside area.] LVK: Another member of Ego Max?! [And on cue, Rembrandt grabs the leg of Courtade, as Courtade wheels around. Courtade manages to kick free...as Juan turns around.....] _____________WHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCKKKKKK_________________ [HUGE POP!] LVK: HE HIT IT! IT’S OVER! IT’S OVER!!!! [And as quickly as it seems like it’s completely over and done for....we see Tommy Stephens slowly slide into the ring....] LVK: LOOK OUT!!! ______________THHHHHHHHWAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!_______________ [HUGE HEEL POP!] LVK: THAT SICK SON OF A BITCH! HE JUST DENTED THE HEAD OF CHRIS COURTADE WITH THAT CHAIR! IT WAS ALL PLANNED....EGO MAX HAS STRUCK AGAIN! RP: Juan’s gonna pin Courtade! LVK: Oh look at that crap....Stephens simply lays Juan over Courtade....this is sickening....this cannot end like this.... RP: This place is gonna explode....and I love it. [Stephens stands over the bodies of Courtade and Vasquez as Rembrandt slides under the bottom barbed wire rope, ensuring the ref makes the count.] RP: IT’S OVER! JUAN WILL FINALLY BEAT THE LEGEND KILLER....AND KILL HIS LEGEND! LVK: This is the sickest, most grotesque thing I’ve ever seen....and I’ll be damned if I’ll ever think this is fair. ONE! RP: ONE!!! TWO! RP: TWO!! THREE!! RP: YEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [The scene in the ring is similar to a riot scene. Massive amounts of garbage litter the ring, as we see Rembrandt and Stephens get Juan Vasquez to his feet, as they lift his arms into the air, attempting to make it seem like he won single handily.] RP: WOOOOOO! Juan did it....he did it! LVK: He busted his ass....then used his typical, dirty underhanded tricks to beat someone. And now he’s practically dancing in the damn ring in celebration. That ring looks like a damn war zone, and his ass is overfilled with joy after he stole a win from Chris Courtade. [Suddenly, the celebration is cut short....] "EXCUSE ME.....EXCUUUUUUUSE ME!" RP: What in the hell?! LVK: The boss! The boss is here....and he doesn’t look very happy. [Yes indeed, RCW President Clint Fletcher walks out of the entranceway, and glares towards the ring.] CF: You three really think you did a number here tonight, don’t you? You think in front of over sixty thousand of the best wrestling fans in the world....you’re just gonna walk out of here, after that crap you just pulled? [HUGE POP] CF: Let me tell you something. Every single employee of this company and quite possibly member of this business wanted to see this match, and they wanted to see it end with a winner. What just happened is the type of crap that’s happened time and time again over the past few weeks involving you three assholes! [HUUUUUUUGE POP!] CF: So, allow me to do my job. Stephens and Rembrandt, you’re required to leave that spot right now, and head back with me, to the back. RP: Fine! They’ll celebrate in the back of the arena! CF: You’re banned from the ringside area.... BECAUSE THIS MATCH ISN’T OVER! RP: WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?! [Blow the Cotton Bowl sideways pop!] CF: This is a one on one match....and due to what just happened....I’m ordering this match to re-start. This has been a personal war for months now....and it won’t end due to some hatched plan you three created. So, ring the damn bell....you two jackassess head this way....and Juan? Good luck. [Fletcher throws down the microphone, as Rembrandt and Stephens dejectedly leave the ring, as they head to the back in protest. Vasquez merely glares at Fletcher, shaking his head side to side, screaming of the injustice.] RP: COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS! LVK: NO....THAT’S JUST FAIR....COURTADE WAS CHEATED, BUT I TRULY THINK THIS IS THE RIGHT THING TO DO! RP: Right thing to do? LVK: Yes, because 60,000 people didn’t pay to see this match, this rivalry, end in a god damn robbery....this is right thing to do. [And as the bell rings, Vasquez turns around to see that Chris Courtade has gotten to his feet....and is staring a hole through his head.] RP: This is so unfair....Juan’s trapped in that ring with that god damn monster.... LVK: And that monster got cheated royally a few minutes ago, and he’s on his second life right now....and I doubt he’s gonna waste it! [And with that, Juan begins to circle the entire of the ring, as Courtade does the same, merely shaking his head in anger, as both of them lock eyes. Courtade darts at Juan, but Juan sidesteps him, as Courtade stops before he gets to the barbed wire. Courtade whirls around, and gets decked by Vasquez, sending him reeling back. Courtade slowly bends back, nearly hitting the barbed wire yet again, but lashes forward, hitting Vasquez with a shoulder tackle.] LVK: These two men are bloody and bruised....and I’ll be damned if I know how either of them are standing. RP: They’re beating the living hell out of each other....in a match that Juan Vasquez already won! LVK: Which was correctly restarted! [Courtade gets Juan back up to his feet, and hooks his arms around Juan, and begins to whirl around, lifting Juan in the air....] RP: They’re too close to the ropes! LVK: Holy God....this is gonna be brutal.... [And as Courtade spins around, the back of Juan Vasquez....] LVK: OH MY GOD! *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* [....falling completely on the barbed wire, as both men get intertwined, the barbed wire snapping off the turnbuckles, as each man falls to the floor, wrapping themselves with barbed wire as a result of the fall.] LVK: BOTH MEN TO THE FLOOR! BOTH MEN WRAPPED IN BARBED WIRE! THAT’S ENOUGH....THAT’S JUST ENOUGH....CALL THIS GOD DAMN MATCH OFF! RP: I COULDN’T AGREE MORE! LVK: Ladies and gentlemen....we’re gonna need some help here. Chris Courtade just belly to belly’d Juan Vasquez onto the top rope of barbed wire, and snapped the damn top rope of barbed wire due to their combined weight. That’s the most god damn violent thing I’ve ever seen in my life. [And as if on cue, we see a slew of RCW officials run out of the entrance way, making their way to ringside, including RCW President Clint Fletcher, every last one of them with concerned looks on their faces, as we see the pile of shredded skin and barbed wire. He glares down, with a concerned look, as several officials begin to use wire cutters to cut Vasquez and Courtade free from each other, and free from the barbed wire. The camera focuses on Clint Fletcher, the RCW owner, on one of his biggest nights in his personal career, his company ready to go to the top of the business.....yet he doesn’t seem like a man ready to celebrate. The look in his eyes in an indication of the guilt he must feel making this match restart, as he looks at two men that are true RCW superstars, as they lay in a pile of blood.] RP: Fletcher looks horrified....and I think he should be! This match should have never been restarted in the first place....this match should have never continued! LVK: You can’t blame him for that....he had no way to know....none of us did. RP: The hell I can’t....he knows Courtade....he knows what kind of animal he is....what kind of sick monster he is. He LVK: That’s crap....we didn’t know it’d be like this....not this way. Look at that sight....do you see the hell they just put each other through? Do you see the pile of shredded steel? RP: I see a horrible event that should have never happened....that’s what I see! [As officials begin to unravel the two bloody, broken warriors, we see Clint Fletcher reaching down, slowly pulling Vasquez and Courtade off each other, as they slowly roll out, nearly slithering away in pain. Fletcher then appears to look down to Vasquez, and ask him....] "Do you want to continue?" [And the look on Juan’s face, his reaction, his answer....tells it all....] "Yes" [Fletcher turns to Courtade, and poses the same question.....Courtade’s response?] [HUGE POP!] LVK: Courtade flipped Fletcher off....I guess that means this match is still under way! [Fletcher shakes his head from side to side, as he clearly would prefer the match to simply end now, but he’s forced to simply walk away, telling both men how seemingly insane they are....and as the slew of RCW officials leave the ring area....] RP: VASQUEZ! VASQUEZ!! [Juan Vasquez charges Courtade, tackling him into the guard railing, as each man club each other relentlessly. Vasquez gets the upper hand, as he mounts Courtade’s shoulders, and begins to fire right hands at the jaw of Courtade, rocking the Texan on the floor, side to side. Vasquez gets back to his feet, and as Courtade gets up, Vasquez catches Courtade off guard....and ....] LVK: HE JUST SPIKED COURTADE’S HEAD OFF THE COLD CONCRETE!! RP: PAYBACK’S A BITCH! [Vasquez gets Courtade to his feet, and slides him under the ring....as he covers Courtade following closely.] RP: This is it....he’s gonna get ‘em! LVK: Vasquez for the cover.....Vasquez for the win.... ONE! TWO! THREE— [HUGE POP!] LVK: HE KICKED OUT! RP: GOD DAMN’T! [Vasquez is beside himself, as he gets to his feet, clutching his head, wondering what he has to do. He gets Courtade to his feet, but as he does, the big Texan grabs Juan into another small package.] LVK: COURTADE CAUGHT VASQUEZ OFF GUARD....SMALL PACKAGE!!! ONE! TWO! THREE- [HUGE SIGH] RP: YES! LVK: HE KICKED OUT! RP: STAY IN THERE JUAN....STAY IN THERE! LVK: I’ve never seen anything like this in my life. RP: JUAN LOOK OUT! [Courtade gets to his feet first, as Juan whirls around....] LVK: LAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR--- RP: HE DUCKED UNDERNEATH!!! LVK: HE’S GOT COURTADE OFF BALANCE!! HE ROLLED HIM UP..... ONE! TWO! THREE--- [ANOTHER HUGE POP!] LVK: HE KICKED OUT!! RP: HOW IN THE HELL ARE THEY DOING THIS?!? LVK: I’LL BE DAMNED IF I KNOW....BUT THEY’RE LEAVING IT OUT ALL IN THIS RING! [Vasquez gets up first, and as Courtade wheels around, Vasquez slide dropkicks Courtade in the back of the knee, as Courtade falls forward. Vasquez then rolls out to the floor, and grabs another chair.] RP: HERE COMES THE CHAIR-MAN OF THE RCW....AND HE’S GONNA ADD THE FINAL NAIL TO THE COFFIN OF CHRIS COURTADE! LVK: Vasquez is back in the ring.....he’s cocking that chair over his head....Courtade back up to his feet....Vasquez whirls the chair around.... [But Juan misses, as Courtade instinctively ducks under the chair.] LVK: COURTADE DUCKED!! [And as Courtade ducks he turns around, and kicks Juan in the gut, the chair falling. Courtade then eyes Vasquez, and gripes his hand....] LVK: IRON CLAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWW! COURTADE LOCKED IN THE IRON CLAW ON VASQUEZ! THE MOVE THAT STARTED IT ALL! [Courtade applies more pressure to Vasquez.....] RP: HE’S GOT IT ON TIGHT.....JUAN’S IN SOME MAJOR TROUBLE!! LVK; You’re damn right he is....Courtade’s gonna make Juan tap out of this.... [But just when it all seemed right....Courtade leans forward....and gets meet with a kick to his southern region, as the Texan lets the hold go, Vasquez collapsing to the mat.] LVK: The ultimate equalizer by Vasquez! RP: And he’s back up to his feet....Juan’s got that chair again.... [But Juan doesn’t hit Courtade just yet. He pulls back out the wire cutters, and heads towards the ropes. Courtade gets up....but gets planted with a shot to the head with the wire cutters.] RP: Another shot to the head! LVK: Courtade’s busted wide open, and he’s not getting any better after that shot. Juan’s got those wire cutters....and he’s grabbed the barbed wire strand he just cut off. He’s grabbed the chair....and he’s wrapping the cha— [But before he can, Courtade fires a right hand to the head of Vasquez sending Juan back, as he drops the chair. Courtade grabs the chair....and as Juan gets to his feet....] ________________WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKKKKKKKKKKK___________________ [HUGE POP!!!!] LVK: COURTADE JUST DROPPED VASQUEZ LIKE A HORRIBLE HABIT....AND JUAN’S DOWN TO THE MAT! RP: Good Lord....he may have broken that chair in half....I can’t believe this! [Courtade then slides out of the ring, as he looks under the ring, and pulls out....] LVK: CLOTH RAGS?! [Then Courtade pulls out from under the ring....] RP: A GAS CAN?!? [Then he merely turns to the crowd, and nods his head, as he slides back into the ring. He takes the strand of barbed wire....] LVK: What in the hell?! Courtade’s wrapping his god damn arm with barbed wire....you’ve got to be kidding me! [But he’s not done. He then begins to wrap the cloth rags around his barbed wire wrapped arm....and looks into the crowd.] RP: You’ve got to be kidding me....please tell me he’s kidding me.... [Then Courtade does the unthinkable....as he grabs the small can of gas, and pours it over his arm, as the smell of gasoline drowns out the front row.] LVK: SOMEONE PLEASE STOP THIS! [And then Courtade finishes it off....pulling out a match....and flicking it off his cheek.....as the fire begins.....] LVK/RP: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! [HUGE POP!!] [And Courtade takes the match to his arm......just as Juan Vasquez gets to his feet....] __________________WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH______________ ____________WWWWWWWWHHHHHHAAAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK__________ [ENORMOUS POP!] *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* *ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA ARRRR-CEEEE-DUBBYAAA!!* [Refs slide to put out the flame on Courtade’s arm, as he merely falls on top of Vasquez, the fire being put out....then the ref slides down....] ONE! TTWWWWWOOOOOOOOO! TTTTTTTHRRRRRREEEEEEEEEE!!! [Ding, Ding, Ding!] [ENORMOUS POP!!!] LVK: HE DID IT! HE DID IT IN HIS HOME STATE....HIS HOMETOWN!!! RP: I can’t believe this....Juan won the god damn match! LVK: JUAN JUST GOT HIT WITH A FLAMING BARBED WIRE LARIAT!!! AND HE LOST! HE LOOOOOST!!! RP: What a god damn war....what a war....I’m speechless.... LVK: I think I am too....but I think that picture says it all.... [We see Chris Courtade slowly getting to his feet, as RCW officials cut the wiring from the ring, as they enter the ring, immediately checking on Courtade and Vasquez. Vasquez is immediately rolled to his back, as they call for a stretcher, immediately placing rags over his wounds, attempting to stop the bleeding. Courtade slowly gets to his feet, throwing up the Longhorn to the crowd, before he slowly falls to the mat, causing a completely enormous crowd reaction, yet again. A stretcher comes out for both men, but both mean seemingly push them away, as each of them begin to limp to the back.] LVK: What can we say? We just witnessed two men - without a doubt two of the greatest wrestlers in the business today - throw everything they had at each other. Every ounce of energy and will in their bodies, until they were left as bloody and beaten as two people can get. RP: A flaming barbed wire lariat. Wow. LVK: We really need to get this place cleaned up, which seems to be happening a lot tonight, and we need to get the ring set up....for our MAIN EVENT! RP: Woohoo! LVK: So while the ring crew gets out here and frantically gets to work, why don't you take a look at what led to this big main event here tonight.... [Fade out to black, and then fade back up into a split-screen shot of two faces. Those of Dan Kauffman and Devon Case. Dramatic classical music plays in the background. The face of Kauffman fades out....] Voice-Over: When Devon Case first stepped foot in River City Wrestling, he made it clear that he was not interested in paying tribute to the sport's tradition. Taking open potshots at some of the legends of the game, Case quickly made a name for himself as a cutting-edge performer who was not afraid to speak his mind. [Then the face of Case fades out...and the face of Kauffman fades back in.] VO: The first "legend" to answer Case's challenges....was the former IIWF World Heavyweight Champion, Dan Kauffman. **IMPACT SEPTEMBER 17, 2001** [Case stands in the ring, with a microphone in his hand, laying down a challenge.] DC: ....tonight.. I'm not leaving this ring until somebody gets their ass out here and takes me up on my challenge.. [bleep] the six man match I can do that as well.. I want a one on one contest.. right now.. and I ain't [bleep]in' moving until this gets done.. [Case drops the mic and eyes the entranceway as the fans get on their feet and pop huge just for the open challenge. Nothing ... cut to a wide shot from the side, where as Case continues talking ...] DC: That's what I thought. A bunch of [BLEEP]in' pussies back there. How ... [... while from the other side, behind Case, a figure in blue jeans, a black t-shirt and red Maryland Terapins baseball cap jumps over the barricade and quickly slides into the ring. The hat comes off, and the man stands a couple feet behind Case as the crowd comes to life ... WITH A HUGE BABYFACE POP!!!!] RP: OH YEAH! Case's challenge is ANSWERED! LVK: What in hell is he doing here?! [Case, thrown off by the sudden cheer, stutters ...] DC: How ... Jesus Christ, did a playboy playmate take her top off?! Did ... [... and turns around to find Dan Kauffman staring a hole right through his face. Case, surprised, takes a step back, looking up in shock.] RP: DAN KAUFFMAN HAS ARRIVED IN RIVER CITY WRESTLING! Crowd: KAUFF - MAN! KAUFF - MAN! KAUFF - MAN! KAUFF - MAN! [Kauffman reaches calmly down to grab the mic dropped by Case, who still can't believe his eyes.] DK: I accept your challenge, Case. [HUGE POP!] DK: As a matter of fact, I _welcome_ it. [Freeze on Case and Kauffman standing in the ring together.] VO: From that day forward, the battle lines were drawn. But time went by, and Dan Kauffman and Devon Case found themselves diverted by other battles. Case went on to win the National title, while Kauffman showed the RCW fans that he had not lost a step, in a lengthy feud with Luke Kinsey. It seemed that the destined battle would never come.....until one night in January, 2002... **GLORY PAY-PER-VIEW, JANUARY 2002** [Case has just beaten Alex Extreme in the main event, and both men are still down.] LVK: FINALLY THIS GRUELLING, GRUELLING MATCH IS OVER!!! TWO OF THE MOST AMAZING ATHLETES YOU'LL EVER LAY EYES ON JUST PARTICIPATED IN A MATCH OF TRUE CLASSIC PROPORTIONS - BUT DEVON CASE COMES OUT THE WINNER!!! [With every single person in the building up on their feet, Devon Case remains down on the mat, unable to even move. Marc Gioffre grabs the National title belt and places it down across Case's chest, as Extreme lays unmoving mere feet away.] DK: Devon ... right here ... right now ... you ... and I ... for the National Title. [The crowd pops HUGE at the thought!] LVK: Oh my God! RP: Kauffman and Case ... tonight?! [Kauffman swings a punch at Case, but it misses, and Case moves in behind. He grabs Kauffman by the head, and spins him into an inverted facelock!! POP!!!] LVK: THE STRIP!!! HERE COMES- [But Kauffman spins around into a front facelock, and rams a fist into Case's midsection, breaking free. In an instant Kauffman grabs Case by the head, and then jumps up to wrap his legs around the champ's body, dropping back to the mat.....] *THUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!* [HOLY-SHIT-DID-THAT-JUST-HAPPEN POP!!!!!!] LVK + RP: OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! LVK: YASHIMOTO DDT!!!!! GOOD GOD!! THE YASHIMOTO DDT!!!! RP: If Case gets up from that, he really is a freakin' GOD!! LVK: Kauffman dropping down into the cover now!!!! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!! [?] THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [WE-JUST-WITNESSED-HISTORY POP TO END ALL POPS!!!!!] LVK: IT'S OVER!!! DAN KAUFFMAN HAS WON, AND HE'S THE *NEW* NATIONAL CHAMPION!!!! [Freeze on Kauffman holding the National title.] VO: Their battle had finally been waged, but it did not end there. Instead of a triumphant champion, Dan Kauffman found himself just another wrestler without a title. Being stripped of the belt, which was then discontinued, Dan Kauffman was left out in the cold. [The picture changes back to a split-screen of Case and Kauffman.] VO: A new World title was put in place, and a tournament set up to find the first champion. While everyone else focused on a gold belt, Case and Kauffman quietly watched each other from afar, both with their sights locked on personal revenge. Kauffman wanting to prove once and for all that he was the better man, and Case consumed by the desire to avenge his loss at Glory. [Now we get quick-fire shots of the tournament matches - Kauffman beating Tommy Stephens, Case beating Luke Kinsey, and then Kauffman beating Rembrandt.] VO: Soon enough they would get their chance. Battling their way through the tournament, Devon Case and Dan Kauffman overcame all obstacles to become the final two - the two who would battle for the title at the Caged Rage pay-per-view. This time there would be no controversy, no questions. Just one battle, in the most brutal match of all time - the Rage in the Cage. [The music starts to get really dramatic now.] VO: But along the way....something changed. Devon Case chose a different path than the one he'd followed to all of his past RCW glory, and in doing so.... He made it personal. **IMPACT FEBRUARY 18, 2002** [Open to a shot of two gravestones The one on the left reading.. KELLY KAUFFMAN (1966-1998) while the other reads.. TANYA KAUFFMAN (1995-1998)] DC: neither of us are sure whether she was the only daughter or not.. right Dan? Because we both know.. on that fateful day.. when that plane _crashed_ square into the ground and _burned_ straight to hell.. that you not only lost a wife.. and a daughter.. no. You lost a third.. didn't you? [The camera cuts to the darkened ring where all we can see is the back of Kauffman.. who stands motionless looking towards the tron. We cut back to the screen as Case walks out from behind the stons and now puts his hand back on the stone of Kauffman's daughter.. rather cockily resting back on the headstone itself.] DC: Must be a bitch that this must come from me huh? Ladies and gentlemen.. everybody knows that Kelly was a two-bit whore sleeping around with every man on the block.. but what people do not know.. is that she was carrying when she died. [You can hear the shocked pop in the background..] DC: And the kicker Daniel.. is that you and I know.. that baby she was carrying.. was _not_ yours. And that burns your insides to this day.. as you consume your last dying breath trying to figure out who it may have been.. and soon you will come to the realization that that's just something nobody will _ever_ know.. [Case moves forward.. so now that only his upper torso and face can be seen.. he looks evilly down into the camera.] DC: I hope you enjoyed your birthday.. for behind the madness.. is quite a valid point. You see.. behind me is something you hold sacred.. only because you know your mistakes and faults as a greedy human being.. cost them their lives. So to cope.. you do the only thing you were ever remotely good at.. wrestling in that ring.. and winning the titles. [Case immediately drops the chair in the center of the ring as actual empty containers and half-empty cups of soda and beer come flying towards and into the ring..] LVK: Case has Kauffman hooked with the arms.. and he's spinning around!! RP: He's gonna go for the CASE CLOSED!!!!!!!! LVK: OH THE CHAIR?! RP: YEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!! [Case lifts up.. getting Kauffman looking straight down onto that chair.. as Case jumps.. sits down.. TTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKK!!] LVK: CASE CLOSED ONTO THE CHAIR!! KAUFFMAN IS BUSTED WIDE OPEN AND HE'S JUST OUT LIKE A LIGHT!! THIS PARANOID BASTARD MAY HAVE JUST ENDED THE CAREER OF A GREAT SUPERSTAR IN THIS SPORT MANY YEARS OVER!! [Freeze on Case's maniacal face.] VO: But Dan Kauffman's career wasn't over. He came back, and with more than just a World title to consider. Now it was personal. **IMPACT FEBRUARY 25, 2002** [Case has made a quick getaway to his car at the back of the arena. He reaches in his pocket for his keys, then unlocks the front door. Opening it, he quickly takes a seat and slams the door shut before taking a few deep breaths ... while behind the driver's seat, another head rises into view ...] LVK: OH ... MY ... GOD! [SHOCKED FACE POP!] RP: GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE, DEVON~! [Case, unaware of the danger to himself, takes a couple seconds before he glances into the rearview mirror ... and freezes, his face turning white like he's just seen a ghost.] DK: Surprise. [Case barely has time to duck into a defensive posture before Dan Kauffman lunges over the driver's seat and starts tearing into Case, his punches coming from seemingly everywhere as the crowd inside erupts.] LVK: Dan Kauffman has attacked Devon Case in Case's own vehicle! He's a man _possessed_! RP: Damn it, damn it, damn it! [Kauffman climbs up to the passenger's side, all the while continuing to pound the life out of Case. He grabs Case by the neck and starts choking him ...] DK: Who told you? [Nothing ... and Kauffman pounds Case back into the seat numerous times ...] DK: WHO TOLD YOU, GODDAMNIT! [Nothing again ... and then Kauffman sends Case the other direction ... forward ...] {_______________ crack _______________} [SHOCKED POP!] RP: SOMEBODY STOP HIM~! LVK: DAN KAUFFMAN JUST THREW DEVON CASE FORWARD, AND CASE'S HEAD _CRACKED_ THE WINDSHIELD! [Case's forehead is busted open, a couple long, narrow cracks zigzagging their way across the windshield. Case's eyes are glazed over, and he appears out of it. Kauffman takes the trouble to move Case out of the driver's seat to the passenger's seat, which takes several seconds. Kauffman punches Case several more times, before resting in the driver's seat himself.] DK: It didn't have to be like this, Devon. You know that, don't you? You're good enough to have simply won the damn tournament. That damn title would be yours. But no. You foolishly believe that everyone is out to get you, and then you do something _stupid_ and you make this _personal_. [Kauffman's right hand grabs the shifter, and a quick motion moves it. Then Kauffman opens the driver's side door and gets out. Before closing the door ...] DK: I may go to hell for what I'm about to do, Devon ... but at least I'll get to see you when I get there. [Kauffman closes the door, then moves to the back of the vehicle. Straining, Kauffman pushes the car forward.] RP: What in the world is he doing?! LVK: Apparently, Kauffman has put the car in neutral ... oh my God ... OH MY GOD, NO! THIS IS GOING TOO FAR! [Kauffman continues pushing the car the final few feet until it reaches the top of the loading dock ramp.] RP: He couldn't POSSIBLY do this ... this is Dan Kauffman, for crying out loud! He could KILL Case! LVK: This is a Dan Kauffman who's been pushed over the edge! AND HE'S PUSHING DEVON CASE OVER THE EDGE! [Finally, the front wheels of the car slip off the level surface of the parking lot onto the downhill grade of the loading dock ... and the entire car starts rolling forward, on it's own accord, down the ramp's 80 long feet to a grizzly doom.] [INCREDIBLE SHOCKED POP!] {_________CCCRRRRRRRRRRRASSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHH________} LVK: DEVON CASE'S CAR WENT HEAD ON INTO THE CONCRETE LOADING DOCK PLATFORM, AND CASE WAS INSIDE! WE NEED HELP OUT THERE! [And freeze again.] VO: Dan Kauffman had been pushed over the edge. But for one, startling moment he managed to step back and look at the situation calmly. It was then that he made a shocking decision, and announcement.... **IMPACT MARCH 8** DK: If Devon Case needs a World title _so badly_ that he is willing to invade my personal life ... that's a line I no longer want to cross. So Devon ... I will _forfeit_ our title match ... and you can _have_ your World title. [Shocked pop, followed by an _INCREDIBLE_ heel pop!] LVK: You hear _that_? These people _know_ what's happened here. These people _know_ Devon Case pushed Dan Kauffman over the edge ... These people _know_ why Kauffman is calling it quits ... and they _hate_ it ... and I do, too! [And with that "Would?" by Alice In Chains rips over the PA to a monster heel pop! Not a moment passes before Devon Case makes his presence known as he gingerly walks out from behind the curtain.. a slight hobble in his step.. the left side of his face still slightly swollen from the week prior.] LVK: Great. Here comes the man responsible for putting Dan Kauffman over the edge.. here comes the man who has turned his back on his fans and everyone who bel- RP: Oh can it Van Keel! [Case sports a pair of blue jeans and his usual black with white lettering "Better Than Tampa" t-shirt.. as he hobbles down to ringside.. his eyes locked on Kauffman as the fans continue to boo.. Case can't help but show a small smirk as he rolls into the ring and right into the face of Kauffman.. who doesn't back down.] [Case then takes the microphone out of Kauffman's hand, backs up a few feet but keeps his eyes locked on the soon-to-be retiree!] DC: Let me get this straight. Two weeks after I showed the world what kind of man you truly are.. and only one week after you tried to end _my_ career.. you wanna call it quits? [The crowd boos as Kauffman continues to glare at Case, who shakes his head with disbelief.] DC: It's gotten too personal, you say? Perhaps.. but has personal vendetta ever stopped you before? You waged a war with Chris Quigley that lasted a better part of a full year.. yet you never wanted to "back out".. so why now? Why blatently lie to all your fans out here, huh? Why can't you just tell them the truth? [Kauffman mouths "I am." as Case just scoffs.] DC: Bull[bleep]. You wanna forfeit our match at Caged Rage two? That's fine. You wanna retire from our great sport? That's fine as well. But at least be honest.. if not with the fans.. than with me. Just say it.. just tell me that you know.. that you've realized.. That you can't beat me. [Heel pop! as Kauffman shakes his head in disagreeance.. as Case shrugs..] DC: Fine.. be that way.. live with your self-denial.. live knowing that deep down in your heart.. you never had the will power nor the out and out ability to go toe to toe with the hottest commodity in professional sports today.. and that you just.. plain.. Quit. [Another heel pop as Kauffman sorta shrugs. Case gets up close to Dan.. eyes locked again with intensity.] DC: But to this point.. I don't buy it. Let's make it official Daniel.. [Case puts his hand out..] DC: Let's shake on it. [The crowd boos as Kauffman looks around the crowd.. his look seeming detached.. a man truly torn by recent events.. slowly reaching out with his hand as the crowd starts to boo heavily.] LVK: I can't believe this.. he's about to make a pact with the De- [Just then.. Case grabs the hand and pulls Kauffman right into a vicious short arm lariat! HEEL POP!!] LVK: It was a set-up!! Damnit! Case is on the attack! RP: WOOOOOOOOOOO!!! [Case quickly lifts the suprised Kauffman off the ground.. locking in an inverted facelock!] [TTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!] [HEEEEEEEEEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] RP: THE STRIP!!! THE STRIP!! YES!! YES!! YES!! LVK: This lowdown bastard! Dan Kauffman is giving him the title and he doesn't even care! [And freeze.] VO: There would be no forfeit. It was too late for that. This wasn't about titles, or glory, or "legends" anymore. This was about much more. And tonight.... Tonight they settle it for once and for all. [Fade out.] [As we fade back, it's straight to a shot of the ominous Rage in the Cage structure. Since there's no roof on the Cotton Bowl, it has been put together by hand very hastily, a huge four-sided wire-mesh cage which encompasses the ring and half of the ringside area.] LVK: There it is fans. Rage in the Cage. RP: Wow....I feel all jittery Van Keel! This is something special alright! [The cage features one door, which is down at ground level, on the side adjacent to the raised rampway. The rampway just ends at the side of the cage, which has been produced specially to take the rampway into account. Spotlights flash all over the metallic monstrosity, eliciting a HUGE RAGE IN THE CAGE POP!!] LVK: Well fans, it's time. It's *really* time. Over to David Stokes! [The camera comes to Stokesy, but he's not inside the Rage in the Cage - that honor being restricted to the wrestlers and the referee. He stands at ringside, beside the cage.] DS: Ladies and gentlemen, it's now time for the match you've all been waiting for. Only the second ever Rage in the Cage match in RCW history, and a match which will decide the... FIRST EVER RCW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION! [And then, HUGE FACE POP as the lights dim to a slight murmur, followed a couple second later by the opening piano notes of Linkin Park's "In The End". A single spotlight focuses at the head of the rampway...] # It starts with one # [... where Dan Kauffman emerges. Again he's wearing his black leg-length wrestling tights emblazened by brilliant white lightning bolts which glow in the light as the music kicks into full gear ...] # One thing, I don't know why # # It doesn't even matter how hard you try # # Keep that in mind, I designed this rhyme # # To explain in due time all I know # [Kauffman lifts his head up, looking down the rampway, toward the imposing steel structure surrounding the ring. His face is masked by steely stare of concentration and intensity as he eyes up the venue for tonight's epic battle.] # Time is a valuable thing # # Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings # # Watch it count down to the end of the day # # The clock ticks life away, it's so unreal # [Kauffman begins his walk to the ring, a steady, unyielding pace that shrinks the distance in seconds. There's a purpose in the walk, as Kauffman walks straight ahead without hesitation.] # Didn't look out below # # Watch the time go right out the window # # Trying to hold on, but didn't even know # # Wasted it all just to watch you go # [As the word go is held out in the song, Kauffman stops at the door of the Rage in the Cage structure.] # I kept everything inside # # And even though I tried, it all fell apart # # What it meant to me will eventually be # # A memory of a time when # [As the chorus kicks in, Kauffman slides into the ring, jumping to his feet. Kauffman raises his arms and stares out to the crowd with a look of intensity on his face as the crowd pops HUGE.] # I tried so hard, and got so far # # But in the end, it doesn't even matter # [Kauffman simply stands, his eyes darting about him, as he takes in his surroundings...] # I had to fall to lose it all # # But in the end, it doesn't even matter # DS: Introducing first....from Hagerstown, Maryland, weighing 225 pounds..... DAAAAAAAAAAAAN KAAAUUUUFFMMAAAAAANNNNNNN!!!!! [The crowd's explosive reaction turns the other way as suddenly "If You Still Hate Me" by Ill Nino rips over the Cotton Bowl speakers. It might be an unfamiliar song, but it still elicits a MONSTER HEEL POP!] RP: Case coming out to some special music for a special occasion! The demise of old man Kauffman! [Soon enough.. a figure creeps out from behind the entranceway.. the crowd booing big time as the man stands at the top of the entranceway. He wears long and sorta baggy and highly glossy black pants with a dark crimson red and black dragon insignia along both pant legs.. the Caucasian sports no shirt.. but all eyes are on the face..] LVK: Oh my! Is that Case? RP: Of course it is! Don't you see? He's wearing the Blood Dragon facepaint! [That's right.. Case has come prepared for a war unlike any other he's faced. His short black hair taking a backseat to his facepaint.. the dark red and black.. the devil imprinted upon Case's face.. of which we haven't seen since Case's debut in River City Wrestling months upon months ago. His eyes glare down towards Kauffman who doesn't look amused nor frightened in the least..] DS: And now - he weighs in tonight at 230 pounds.. and he hails from Las Vegas, Nevada.. he is a former RCW National Champion.. here is.. DEEEEEEEEEVON CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE!!!!!!!!!!! [MONSTER HEEL POP!!] LVK: The fans are on the ends of their seats! The match we've been waiting for.. in the Rage in the Cage two.. it doesn't get much better than this! RP: Yer damn right! [Case slowly stalks down towards the ring.. eyeing the metal contraption with a sick grin.. before climbing into the contraption itself.. his eyes returning to a lock on his opponent.. the IIWF legend, Dan Kauffman.] ___ __ _________________________________________________________________ / __\ /__\ |___ \ / / / \// __) | RAGE IN THE CAGE MATCH! / /___ / _ \ / __/ for the vacant World Heavyweight Championship \____/ \/ \_/ |_____| \ "Devious" Devon Case written \ vs by \ Dan Kauffman Fletch \____________________________________________________________________ *DING DING!!* [A huge roar greets the opening bell, and only gets louder as Devon Case and Dan Kauffman advance from their respective corners, their eyes locked together with unwavering determination.] LVK: This match is underway! We've waited months for this ultimate showdown, and now it's finally here! Case and Kauffman....Rage in the Cage style! [Striding towards each other with matching intensity, Case and Kauffman come to an impass - stopping mere inches from each other in the center of the ring. With the two bitter rivals standing almost nose-to-nose, the fans again let rip with a roar of pure excitement. Nothing is said between Case and Kauffman - indicating that the time for words is over.] RP: Wow, you can almost see the pure hatred radiating from this stand-off, like heat waves! It's intensity to the maximum power! [Still nothing is said between the two combatants, neither willing to concede even the smallest defeat by taking their eyes off of the other. With his eyes still locked on Kauffman, Case takes a small step backwards - a sign of retreat? Not likely....] *SMAAACKK!!* [MONSTER HEEL POP!] LVK: OH BOY!! RP: Oh-ho man! What a bitch slap by Case! [His head turned to the side from the impact of the slap, Kauffman slowly cranes his neck back around to face Case....and then strikes with a big right hand! HUGE FACE POP! Case answers back - and it's on!] LVK: GOOD GOD!!! CASE AND KAUFFMAN GOING PUNCH FOR PUNCH!! RP: You knew these two couldn't last too long before breaking into a slugfest! LVK: Right hands are going back and forth with incredible force! *THUD!* [BIG POP!] LVK: OHHH!!! AND KAUFFMAN TAKES CASE TO THE MAT!!! [Mounting Case, Kauffman rains down on his face and head with pounding punches, the fans roaring their approval. But after absorbing the barrage of punches, Case turns the tables by rolling Kauffman over onto his back, reversing their positions...] RP: What a brawl! LVK: Referee Marc Gioffre stepping in to break it up! RP: BOO! Let them go! [Gioffre struggles, but manages to pry them apart, Case climbing to his feet angrily. He turns and glares at Gioffre with a look which says "touch me again, and I'll rip your head off". He then turns back to Kauffman, who is getting up to his hands and knees, and simply drives his right boot into the side of Kauffman's head!] LVK: That kick really rocked Kauffman - he's clearly dazed! [Case drags Kauffman to his feet, and sends him into the ropes, turning side-on as Kauffman comes rebounding back, and then spinning around backwards and bringing his right leg arching around to catch Kauffman in the face at speed....] *THUUUDD!!* LVK: Flying heel kick catches Dan Kauffman square in the face! [Kauffman rolls onto his hands and knees in a daze, but Case doesn't give him time to recover, running in again...] *THUD!* RP: OW! And then a dropkick right to the face! VICIOUS! LVK: Case really has Kauffman reeling right now! [Case quickly pulls Kauffman to his feet, and sends him crashing over to the mat with a lightning-fast snap suplex! But to a HUGE FACE POP, Kauffman immediately rolls to his feet, runs into the ropes, and comes rebounding back as Case gets to his feet....] *THUD!* LVK: OH BOY!! Kauffman answering back with a running dropkick! [The dropkick sends Case tumbling to the mat, but he gets back up quickly, looking slightly offguard from the unexpected comeback. Kauffman rushes in and catches him with a kneelift to the chest, sending Case back into the ropes, and then scooping him up parallel with the mat, and then dropping him down...] *THUD!* [Face pop!] LVK: Side slam, and here's the first pinfall attempt of the match! ONE!!!! RP: Kickout! He didn't even get a two-count! [Both wrestlers climb to their feet, and Case quickly regains the advantage with a rake of the eyes, drawing a loud chorus of boos and jeers. He follows up with a particularly-nasty elbow to the top of the head, keeping Kauffman stunned and on the back foot. Pushing Kauffman into a corner, Case follows in with a front kick to the head, and then grabs the top rope with both hands and starts to kick away at his chest and midsection viciously, each kick sending Kauffman further and further down into the corner!] LVK: Case viciously stomping away at Kauffman, and you can see it in his eyes - the hatred, the inhuman determination to not just beat Dan Kauffman, but to *destroy* him! [Marc Gioffre steps in again, telling Case to break so that Kauffman can get out of the corner, but Case doesn't even look at the referee, simply continuing his anger-fueled beatdown. Gioffre decides to take matters into his own hands, trying to push between the two combatants - which proves to be a bad mistake. Case turns, finally acknowledging the presence of the stripe-shirted official, grabbing him by that very shirt, and throwing him out of the corner, Gioffre hitting the mat hard backfirst and rolling halfway across the ring! HEEL POP!] LVK: GOOD GOD!!! RP: That'll teach the damn ref not to interfere! LVK: There's no excuse for hitting an official! [Case turns back to Kauffman, but the moment's distraction has allowed Kauffman to reach up and grab the top rope with both hands. With a heave of effort, he lifts his body out of the corner, thrusting both feet into the air....] *THWACK!* [Face pop!] LVK: Thrust kick out of the corner! [Falling into a standing position with a variation of a kip-up after the kick, Kauffman comes face to face with Case, who is still smarting from the blow to the face. Kauffman immediately goes on the attack, firing a punch into Case's head....] *THWACK!* [Crowd: BOOM!] *THWACK!* [Crowd: BOOM!] *THWACK!* [Crowd: BOOM!] *THWACK!* [Crowd: BOOM!] LVK: KAUFFMAN LAYING INTO CASE WITH BIG RIGHT HANDS, EACH BLOW SENDING CASE BACK FURTHER TOWARDS THE FAR CORNER!! [Unloading with an especially-hard haymaker, Kauffman sends Case reeling back into the corner, Case slumping backfirst against the turnbuckles, the facepaint by now having almost completely rubbed off of his face, leaving a mishmash of color. But the barrage doesn't stop - Kauffman stepping up and firing in punch after punch to the helpless Devon Case! BIG FACE POP!!] LVK: Look at Dan Kauffman's eyes! It's like every punch he throws, every ounce of pain he inflicts on Devon Case is payback for the disrespect Case has shown for Kauffman's family! [Marc Gioffre, finally getting back to his feet, rushes in and drags Kauffman out of the corner, breaking it up. But Kauffman turns, his face a twisted mask of determined rage, and pushes both hands into the referee's chest, before giving a mighty push, sending Gioffre tumbling back to the mat and rolling across the ring! BIG SHOCK POP!!] RP: HOLY SHIZNIT! Dan Kauffman...pushing over a referee? Am I in some alternate universe or something? LVK: We've sensed for weeks now that Dan Kauffman is a changed man. Devon Case has done something to him - brought out a Dan Kauffman that the fans have never seen before! [Turning his focus back to Case, Kauffman grabs a handful of hair and pulls him out of the corner, before whipping him across the ring into the ropes. Case comes rebounding back, and Kauffman ducks....] *THUUUDDD!!!* LVK: BACK BODYDROP! [But Case rolls straight to his feet, bounces off the ropes, and comes roaring back....] *THWAAAACCKKK!!!!* RP: HOT DAMN - THE YAKUZA KICK!!! [But Kauffman doesn't go down. He is sent reeling back into the ropes, and he rebounds and comes flying off....] *THWAAACCKK!!!* LVK: BUT KAUFFMAN ANSWERS BACK WITH A FLYING FOREARM - KNOCKING CASE FLAT!!! RP: He's covering! ONE!!!! TWO!!!!! LVK: NO! Kickout by Devon Case!! [Kauffman drags Case to his feet, keeping him stunned with a couple of punches and a knee to the head. He then pulls Case into a front facelock, and swings his free arm around in the air, bringing a HUGE ANTICIPATION POP!!] LVK: YASHIM- RP: NO! Punch to the kidneys by Case.... *THWAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!* [DEAFENING SHOCK/HIGHSPOT POP!!!!] RP: SWEET JESUS!!! LVK: CASE COUNTERED WITH A RELEASE NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX - WHICH SENT KAUFFMAN BOUNCING OFF THE TOP ROPE OUT TO THE RINGSIDE FLOOR!!! RP: Alright! Now things are gonna heat up! [Having landed awkwardly side-first on the hard floor, Kauffman curls up into a foetal position, feeling pain in several places.] RP: There goes Case out of the ring! [Case drops to the floor, and stomps at Kauffman a couple of times, finding no resistance from the last man to ever wear the National title belt. Pausing to catch his breath and clear his head a bit, Case then drags Kauffman to his feet by a handful of hair, turns, and throws him headfirst....] *KAH-LAAAAANNNKKKK!!!!* [SHOCK POP!!!] LVK: OH MY GOD!!! HEADFIRST INTO THE CAGE GOES KAUFFMAN!!! *KAH-LAAAAANNNKKKK!!!!* *KAH-LAAAAANNNKKKK!!!!* RP: TWO MORE TIMES!!! THIS IS GREAT!! [Looking supremely confident with the way things are currently unfolding, Case lets Kauffman drop to the floor after the third ram into the chain-link cage, and turns to face the crowd, throwing his arms into the air. HEEL POP!!] LVK: Devon Case sure does live up to his nickname "Devious" these days - and 60,000 screaming fans here at the Cotton Bowl are letting him know just what they think of him! RP: Bah, like Case really cares. From the day he first stepped into RCW, Devon's done things his way. Whether the fans choose to cheer him for it or boo him for it, he's still the same Devon Case. LVK: Can you blame the fans for turning against Case after what he did to Dan Kauffman? Utterly disrespecting the man's dead wife and child? Spitting on their memory and tainting everything Dan Kauffman has ever stood for? RP: Whoa! Kauffman's been busted open pretty bad! [Struggling up to his knees, Kauffman sways back and forth, his mouth hanging open, his eyes glazed, and his forehead now featuring two thick lines of blood.] LVK: Indeed, the blood is flowing! RP: Was there ever a doubt that it would? [Case doesn't let Kauffman recover at all, ramming his right boot into his face a couple of times, driving Kauffman down to his hands and knees. Dragging him up to his feet, Case then pushes him facefirst into the criss-crossing wire of the cage, sadistic intent in his eyes. He pushes hard, and then begins to rake from side to side! HUGE PROTEST POP!!] LVK: GOOD GOD!!! CASE USING THE CAGE TO TEAR INTO THE OPEN WOUNDS ON DAN KAUFFMAN'S FACE!!! THIS IS SICKENING!! RP: After all we've seen tonight with glass, explosions, fire and all that crap, you think this is disgusting? LVK: Yes I do, because Devon Case's face tells me that he's taking pleasure from it! [Halfway between a frown and a grin, Case's eyes are wide open as he rips Kauffman's head open on the cage in a maniacal fashion. With the crimson life fluid now pouring down Kauffman's face, Case finally relents and lets Kauffman flop backfirst to the floor.] RP: Woohoo! Kauffman's wearing the veritable "crimson mask"! LVK: I can't believe you're taking pleasure from seeing another human being bleed! RP: Hey, we've all got our vices. [Dragging Kauffman up by a handful of blood-matted hair, Case takes a moment to admire his handiwork, before kneeing his adversary in the back. Kauffman arches his back, giving Case the opening he was looking for. He grabs Kauffman's head in a reverse facelock, and points to the sky - BIG ANTICIPATION POP!!!] RP: THE STRIP!! HERE COMES THE STR- *THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPP!!!* [THUNDERING FACE POP!!!] LVK: OOOHHHH!!! KAUFFMAN COUNTERED BY REACHING UP AND GRABBING CASE'S HEAD, THROWING HIS FEET INTO THE AIR, AND NAILING A VARIATION OF AN ACE CRUSHER ON THE HARD FLOOR!!! RP: It would have been all over had Case hit the Strip! [Case gets up to one knee, feeling at his head and neck in pain, while a couple of feet away, Kauffman rolls over and uses the ring apron to get back to a vertical base. Within the blink of an eye, Kauffman turns and charges....] *KAH-LAAAAANNNNKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!* [ENORMOUS SHOCK/FACE POP!!!] RP: SWEET MERCIFUL CRAP!!! LVK: OH MY GOD! KAUFFMAN WITH A SPEAR TACKLE, SENDING CASE BACKFIRST INTO THE CAGE!!! RP: Yeah, but Kauffman's own head collided with the cage as well - so that wasn't such a smart move!! LVK: Both wrestlers are now down on the ringside floor, between the ring and the side of this giant, looming cage! [Marc Gioffre rolls from the ring to check on both wrestlers, but returns to the ring when Kauffman starts to pull himself to his feet, a mess of blood and sweat. Case follows a split-second later, using the cage itself to haul himself up. Kauffman wipes some blood from his eyes, then locks his sights on Case, and again he charges....] *KAH-LAAAAAAAAANNKKKKK-THWAP!* [SHOCK POP!] LVK: OH BOY!! That time Kauffman went for a high-impact spinning heel kick, but Case ducked! RP: Kauffman hit nothing but cage, and landed on the ground pretty hard! [Case drags Kauffman up and rolls him back into the ring, then climbs in himself. He pulls Kauffman up to his feet, hooking him from the side and then dropping forward....] *THUUUUDDD!!!* LVK: FORWARD RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP!!! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!! T-NO! Kickout by Kauffman! [Face pop!] RP: The way Kauffman's looking right now, I've gotta think that Devon Case's mindgames are working! Kauffman came out all fired up, and maybe he used up all of his intensity in those opening minutes! LVK: Devon Case does clearly have the advantage right now, but I wouldn't write off Dan Kauffman just yet Rick. [Case brings Kauffman to his feet, and reaches under his near arm, grasping Kauffman by the neck and back. He then drives Kauffman into the air, sending him up in a chokeslam-like lift, but on the way down adds more momentum by sweeping Kauffman's legs away, driving him headfirst down into the mat....] *THUUUUUUDDDDDD!!!!* [MEGA SHOCK POP!!!!] RP: HOLY GUACAMOLE - WHAT WAS *THAT*? LVK: I do believe that maneuver was the Epitomizer Chokeslam, a move used by Serge Annis, a man who Dan Kauffman knows very well! RP: More mindgames! LVK: Here's the cover! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!! THR-NO! [BIG FACE POP! But Case doesn't seem to care. He leaves Kauffman down on the mat, and makes his way to the top rope, bringing a buzz of anticipation and panic from the fans.] RP: Now what? [Case steadies himself, and then leaps, somersaulting through the air and coming crashing down on Kauffman in a splash position! HIGHSPOT POP!] LVK: THE MAIN ATTRACTION!! As used by Derek Mota! RP: Who? LVK: Someone who used to wrestle for the same Oregon promotion Dan Kauffman did a few years back! Another cover! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!! TH-NO! Another kickout! [FACE POP!] RP: I love it! Devon's rubbing salt into Kauffman's wounds by using the moves of his former allies and enemies out in Portland! What's he gonna do next? [Waiting for Kauffman to struggle to his feet, Case quickly moves in and nails him with a sharp kick to the gut, before underhooking both arms. A couple of fans realise what's coming next and pop, but the rest just watch in awe as Case lifts Kauffman up and spikes him headfirst into the mat piledriver-style, before giving a DEAFENING HIGHSPOT POP!!!] LVK: SKULLPUMP!!! ONE OF THE MOST DEVASTATING MOVES *EVER*! RP: I remember that one! That Kowalski guy used it! LVK: Yes he did, and Devon Case has surely got this match won! HE COVERS!! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!! THREEEEEEE- [?] [THUNDEROUS FACE POP!!!!] LVK: NO! FOOT ON THE ROPES!!! KAUFFMAN GOT HIS FOOT ON THE ROPES!!! RP: How friggin' close was that? LVK: *VERY* close indeed! [Pulling Kauffman away from the ropes, Case rolls him onto his stomach, and gets into position for a Boston crab. But instead he interlocks Kauffman's legs into a sharpshooter, and then bridges back and applies a facelock! HUGE RECOGNITION POP!!!] LVK: OH DEAR GOD!!! THAT'S THE MOVE KAUFFMAN CALLS THE PEACEMAKER, BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY IT'S ALSO THE MOVE CHRIS QUIGLEY CALLED THE QUICKSTRIKER!! RP: YEAH! HE'S GOING TO BEAT KAUFFMAN WITH HIS MOST BITTER ENEMY'S HOLD!!! [The fans are all on their feet screaming and yelling as Kauffman also screams, but in pain - his bloodied face pulled up towards the lights, twisted in absolute agony. His arms trash about, looking for a moment like they might be tapping out, but Marc Gioffre keeps a close watch.] LVK: SURELY KAUFFMAN CAN'T WITHSTAND THIS KIND OF PAIN MUCH LONGER! [The fans, sensing that the match is about to end, manage to get even louder as Kauffman continues to thrash his arms and scream in agony. But then with a loud roar of effort, Kauffman thrusts his arms down into the mat, and drags himself and Case a few inches closer to the ropes. With a last-ditch lunge, Kauffman shoots out his right arm.....] [HUGE MOTHERF**KING FACE POP!!!] LVK: HE MADE IT!!! KAUFFMAN MADE THE ROPES!!!! [With the entire arena going apeshit, a familiar chant breaks out...] *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* RP: Oh man, that would have been so sweet, for Kauffman to lose to the Quickstriker. LVK: Yes, but Devon Case didn't count on the intestinal fortitude of the veteran, showing more guts and determination than most men half his age could muster! [Case rolls to his feet, angrily lashing out at the fans as he hears the chant. He turns back to Kauffman, who is facedown, still groaning in agony, and shakes his head, before yelling "Worthless f**king maneuvers"!] LVK: Just when you thought it wouldn't be possible, Devon Case finds *another* way to disrespect Dan Kauffman and his former league. [Case shakes his head again, and then slowly turns and locks his sights on the top turnbuckle of the nearby corner. A devious grin slowly creeps onto his face, and he nods.] LVK: I don't like the look of that smile! What's Case scheming now? [Kauffman is a blood-soaked, wobbly-legged mess as Case drags him to his feet and leads him into the corner. He props him up onto the top turnbuckle, and starts to climb up himself.] RP: BOTH OF THEM ARE UP TOP!!! HOLD ONTO YOUR FREAKIN' SEATS! [Case drags Kauffman to his feet on the turnbuckle, and pulls him into a standing headscissor, struggling to keep them both balanced in such a small space. He manages to steady both himself and Kauffman though, and then yells out "BURIAL TIME"! Some of the fans recognise that name, and POP BIGTIME!] LVK: GOOD LORD NO!!! NOT THE BURIAL!!! NOT THE DEATHBRINGER'S PILEDRIVER FROM THE TOP ROPE!! RP: HOLY SH[bleep] - THAT'LL KILL HIM!! [Taking a deep breath, Case wraps his arms around Kauffman's midsection, and tries to lift. But there's no give. He tries again, but still Kauffman manages somehow to block it. Case starts to look worried, and so he should, because suddenly Kauffman surges upwards, roaring in pain and effort, sending Case tumbling over and down to the mat.....] *THUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDD!!!!!* [EXPLOSIVE FACE POP!!!!] LVK: KAUFFMAN COUNTERED!!! HE SENT CASE CRASHING FROM THE TOP ROPE TO THE MAT WITH A BACK-BODYDROP!!! RP: Case was right - those damn IIWF moves are worth crap! [Kauffman drops down into a sitting position on the top turnbuckle, still dazed, and then tries to drop down to his feet on the mat. Instead he rolls forward and flops to the mat.] LVK: Dan Kauffman has lost a lot of blood, and taken a great deal of punishment! RP: Both guys are down - this match is intense! LVK: The referee now forced to start a count! *ONE!!* *TWO!!* *THREE!!* *FOUR!!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *FIVE!!* [Both wrestlers start to stir.] *SIX!* [Then, not as loud as the Kauffman chant, but just as real, comes another chant....] *DE-VON! DE-VON!* *DE-VON! DE-VON!* LVK: A portion of the fans cheering for Devon Case to get up! Texas fans really *are* unpredictable! *EIGHT!* [BIG FACE POP!! Kauffman suddenly rolls to his feet and pumps his fist defiantly, as Case also gets to his feet, but Kauffman then flops back to the mat facefirst, exhaustion and the toll of the match overriding his sudden adrenalin rush.] LVK: Noone can deny the fighting spirit Dan Kauffman possesses, but can his 34-year-old body do what his mind and his heart will it to? [Kauffman again struggles to his feet, the task of getting to a vertical base seeming as exhausting as climbing a mountain for the blood-drenched competitor. He makes it up though, and Case charges, driving his right foot towards Kauffman's face....] LVK: Kauffman ducks the Yakuza kick- *THUUUUDDD!!!!* [HUGE FACE POP!!!] LVK: HE DUCKED AND CAUGHT CASE'S LEG....AND SENT HIM CRASHING TO THE MAT WITH A T-BONE SUPLEX!!! RP: A brutal move! LVK: And again both wrestlers are down on the mat - the impact of this incredibly hard-hitting match taking its toll! *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* [With the crowd urging the two men to their feet, and cheering for Kauffman to continue his amazing comeback, the two wrestlers struggle up to a vertical base, both looking very sweaty, tired and dazed, although Kauffman is the only one sporting blood, and a lot of it. Kauffman swings a lazy punch, but Case ducks it and kicks him in the gut. He pulls Kauffman into a standing headscissor. A split-second later he lifts....] RP: POWERB- LVK: NO! Kauffman landing on his feet- *THUUUUUDDDDD!!!* [SHOCK POP!!] RP: GREAT GOOGILY MOOGILY!! CASE NEARLY TOOK KAUFFMAN'S HEAD OFF WITH A SHORT-ARM LARIAT!!! LVK: Simply incredible impact on the lariat! AND CASE IS COVERING!! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!! THREE-NOOOOOO!!!! [RESOUNDING FACE POP!!!] RP: Holy crap! That was about a millionth of a second away from being three! LVK: But Dan Kauffman is still down and in bad shape.... [ANTICIPATION POP!] LVK: ....and Devon Case is pointing to the top rope! RP: He's gonna finish him with the frog splash, I just know it! [Case pulls Kauffman closer to the corner, and then makes his way over to the turnbuckles and begins climbing. Exhaustion slows his climb, but he makes it to the top, turning to face into the ring, his face brimming with confidence. Then he leaps, drawing his arms and legs under his body in mid-flight, and shooting them back out a moment before impact....] *URK-THUUUDDDDD!!!!* [RESOUNDING FACE POP!!!] LVK: KAUFFMAN GOT HIS KNEES UP!!! RP: Knees right into the ribs, from that height....GODDAMN THAT HAD TO HURT!! LVK: Well, it definitely knocked the wind out of Devon Case! [POP!] LVK: And now Dan Kauffman is getting to his feet! [Kauffman rolls from the ring, still dazed and unsure on his wobbly legs. He throws back the ring apron, ducks down and looks around for a few seconds, before reaching in and producing....] RP: A CHAIR! LVK: And remember, anything goes inside the Rage in the Cage structure! [Climbing up onto the apron with the chair, Kauffman then climbs to the top turnbuckle, still holding the chair. The fans understandably roar to life with a HUGE EXPECTANT POP!!] LVK: What on earth does Dan Kauffman have in mind? [Steadying himself up top, Kauffman then leaps, launching into the air with the chair. He somersaults forward, and draws the folded-up chair under his legs as he comes crashing down.....] *KLANNNKKKK-THUUUUDDDDDD!!!!* [SHAKE THE F**KING FOUNDATIONS FACE/HARDCORE/SHOCK POP!!!!] LVK: GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY!!!! RP: A FREAKIN' SOMERSAULT LEGDROP FROM THE TOP ROPE - WITH A STEEL FRIGGIN' CHAIR!!! LVK: THE CHAIR WAS DRIVEN INTO CASE'S HEAD AND CHEST BY ALL OF KAUFFMAN'S WEIGHT!! SIMPLY BRUTAL!! [Throwing the chair aside, Kauffman turns and simply flops across Case's chest...] LVK: COVER BY KAUFFMAN!!! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!! THREEEEEE-NOOOOOO!!!! CASE KICKED OUT!!! [The fans burst into a frenzy of noise, shocked at the kickout, but also overtaken with pure excitement.] RP: How do you kick out after having a Goddamned chair driven into you like that? LVK: You're asking me? I find myself constantly amazed by the resiliency of the wrestlers here in RCW, but these two take the cake! [Kauffman gets to his feet, dropping the folded-up chair onto the mat. He then drags Case up, but Marc Gioffre makes a grab for the chair. Kauffman steps in the way, and pushes him away, before going back to Case, pulling him into a standing headscissor....] LVK: OH MY GOD!!! HE'S GOING TO PILEDRIVE CASE ONTO THE CHAIR!! [HEEL POP!!] LVK: OOOHHHH!! But a low blow by Case puts a stop to that! RP: Case is grabbing the chair!! HE HAS IT!! *KAH-DAAAAAAAAANNNKKKK!!!!* [MONSTROUS PROTEST POP!!] LVK: BRUTAL CHAIRSHOT TO THE HEAD OF DAN KAUFFMAN!!! RP: *NOW* IT'S OVER!!! IT'S GOTTA BE OVER!! [Kauffman goes down hard, but somehow makes it straight back up to his feet, looking like a punch-drunk boxer, his head lolling on his shoulders and his rubbery legs ready to give way at any moment. Case takes hold of the chair again, and swings it skyward, looking to finish the job....] LVK: OH! [...but the chair's progress is stopped. Case turns around, as Marc Gioffre rips the chair from his grasp and throws it from the ring, the chair clanking off the cage side and clattering to the floor.] RP: That damn ref! He should leave the hell alone! [Case grabs Gioffre by the shirt, and it looks for all money that the referee is about to meet an untimely end, but suddenly Case's attention is drawn by Kauffman, who drops to the mat and rolls from the ring. Case lets go of the official, turns, and runs into the ropes, coming rebounding back and sprinting across the ring....] LVK: CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE~! *KAH-LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNKKKKK!!!!* [GIGANTIC FACE/SHOCK POP!!!!] RP: NOOOOO!!!!!! LVK: OH MY WORD!!! DEVON CASE WENT FLYING OVER THE TOP ROPE WITH A SUICIDE DIVE, BUT KAUFFMAN MOVED OUT OF THE WAY!!! CASE WENT STRAIGHT INTO THE SIDE OF THE CAGE!!! RP: He went *headfirst* into the cage!! HE COULD HAVE A BROKEN NECK!!! [With the fans buzzing with excitement and some concern, Gioffre quickly slides from the ring, a concerned look on his face. He drops down to Case's side and begins to check on him.] LVK: This doesn't look good - and I'm not sure if either of these two wrestlers is going to be able to continue! [After a few seconds of checking, the referee finally rolls back into the ring, and starts a count.] LVK: Well, that's a good sign. The referee obviously feels that the match can continue, because otherwise he would have unlocked this cage and gotten some medical help in here. RP: The match might be continuing, but not for much longer if these two don't make it back in before the 10 count! *FOUR!* *FIVE!* [A huge roar of approval greets the sight of Dan Kauffman using the cage siding to pull himself to his feet, his blood-splattered face locked in a teeth-clenching grimace of effort.] *SIX!* *SEVEN!* [POP!] LVK: Kauffman is back in the ring! AMAZING! RP: Yeah, but what about Case? Can Kauffman win the title by countout? LVK: I'm not really sure! Marc Gioffre is starting the count again! *TWO!* *THREE!* *FOUR!* *FIVE!* *SIX!* [Case uses the apron to pull himself up, and rolls under the bottom rope with a groan of pain.] LVK: Both wrestlers back in the ring, and that means this match is going to continue! RP: Woohoo! It would have sucked to end on a countout! [The camera zooms in one Case's pained face, revealing a thick gouge carved into his forehead.] LVK: Case has been busted open now too! The blood continues to flow! [Slowly, with the fans urging them on, Case and Kauffman get to their feet in the ring, neither looking in complete control of his faculties. They stagger towards each other, and Kauffman unloads a big right hand! POP! But Case answers back with the same! Kauffman is staggered by the blow, and then fires off another of his own, which also sends Case staggering back a step....] LVK: Both of these two wrestlers are bleeding, and on the verge of collapse, but somehow they're still finding the strength and determination to stand toe-to-toe and swap punches! [The punches go back and forth, until Case and Kauffman are swaying like a pair of badly-controlled puppets, their arms flailing and their legs wobbling uncontrollably. For a few seconds there are no more punches, but suddenly they both swing simultaneously, both blows finding their target at the same time....] *THUU-THUUUDD!!!!* LVK: BOTH CONNECT WITH PUNCHES, AND DOWN THEY GO!!! RP: This is amazing! They refuse to stay down! LVK: The intense hatred between these two men is what's keeping them going, it has to be! [Both men lay sprawled on their backs, their chests heaving with the effort of breathing, and their glazed-over eyes blinking up at the light towers looming high above the ring. After a few seconds, 60,000 fervent fans break out into a chant.] *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* LVK: Listen to these fans! It's so loud you can hardly hear yourself think! RP: Man, I thought being inside of Yankee Stadium during a World Series game was loud, but this....this is something else! LVK: Both wrestlers now getting back to their feet - let the battle resume! [They both take a moment to clear their heads. Case is the first to attack, rushing at Kauffman and catching him with a charging elbowshot to the side of the head....] *THWACK!* LVK: Big elbow...BUT KAUFFMAN DOESN'T GO DOWN!! [Instead, Kauffman backs into the ropes, gaining momentum, and comes firing back with an elbowshot.....] *THWACK!* LVK: HE RESPONDS WITH AN ELBOW OF HIS OWN! RP: Case is still on his feet! OH! And a series of kneelifts into Kauffman's gut! [The knees double Kauffman over, dropping him to one knee, and Case turns and runs into the ropes. He comes rebounding back, and jumps up onto Kauffman's knee. What happens next takes place in the blink of an eye - Kauffman shoots to his feet, catching the springing Case offguard with a thundering lariat, which knocks Devon flat....] *THUUUUUUDDDDDD!!!!* [DEAFENING FACE POP!!!!] RP: SWEET BUTTERY JESUS!!! LVK: KAUFFMAN COUNTERED THE SHINING WIZARD WITH A SIMPLY AMAZING LARIAT!!! WHAT QUICKNESS AND REFLEXES, ESPECIALLY FROM A MAN WHO'S TAKEN THIS MUCH ABUSE!! RP: Kauffman's covering! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!! THREE- LVK: NO! KICKOUT BY CASE!! [HUGE DISAPPOINTMENT POP!!] LVK: What more can we say about these two amazing athletes? We had no doubt that these two would put on one of the most gruelling matches ever, and they've definitely done that! [Kauffman drags Case up, and holds him by the hair as he yells "POWERPLANT", drawing a huge FACE POP from the crowd.] LVK: Powerplant spinebuster coming up! Into the ropes goes Case.... *THWAAAAAACCCKKKKK!!!!* [ENORMOUS SHOCK POP!!!] RP: YAKUZA!!! CASE COUNTERED WITH THE BEST DAMN YAKUZA KICK IN THE BUSINESS!!! LVK: What impact! The way that Dan Kauffman's head snapped to the side when it collided with Case's boot, I've got to think it's over! RP: Count 'em Van Keel, cause here's the cover by Case! ONE!!!!! TWO!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE- [?] LVK: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! [EXPLODING FACE POP!!!] RP: I don't believe it! LVK: Case thought he had it won there for sure, and now he's dragging Kauffman straight back up.... [Case turns and runs into the ropes, coming rebounding off and raising his right leg...] RP: ANOTHER YAK- LVK: NOOOO!!! [Kauffman catches the leg and in one motion sends Case crashing to the mat with a dragonscrew legwhip! BIG POP!!] LVK: WHAT A COUNTER! [Both wrestlers slowly get to their feet, Case feeling at his right leg slightly. He lashes out with a punch, but Kauffman blocks it with his arm. Case follows up with a swinging lariat, but Kauffman ducks under it, and wraps his arms around Case's head from behind....] LVK: A SLEEPERHOLD!! KAUFFMAN HAS IT LOCKED ON TIGHT!!! [Case struggles, starting to panic, and then in desperation lunges for the ropes, pulling Kauffman with him as he falls over the top rope....] *THWAAAA-WWAAAPPPP!!!!* [BIG ASS SHOCK POP!!!!] LVK: GOOD LORD!!! BOTH WRESTLERS WENT CRASHING OVER THE TOP ROPE TO THE FLOOR, AND FELL VERY AWKWARDLY!!! RP: No kidding! Kauffman still had Case in the sleeperhold when they started falling! LVK: I think Kauffman took the brunt of the fall, because he couldn't use his arms to break his landing! RP: Holy crap! They're both getting up! [Both wrestlers get to their feet, and Case gains the advantage with a pair of sharp punches to the head. He then grabs Kauffman by the back of the head.....] *KAH-LAAAANNNNKKKKKK!!!!* [PROTEST POP!!] LVK: OH!! FACEFIRST INTO THE CAGE GOES KAUFFMAN!!! RP: More blood! [Case tries a second time, but this time Kauffman blocks it, refusing to be pushed into the cage. He breaks Case's grip, and grabs *him* by the head.....] *KAH-LAAAAAAANNNKKKKKK!!!* [BIG FACE POP!!!] LVK: OOOOHHHH!!! KAUFFMAN RETURNS THE FAVOR!!! *KAH-LAAAAAAANNNKKKKKK!!!* LVK: TWICE!! *KAH-LAAAAAAANNNKKKKKK!!!* LVK: THREE TIMES!!! [Case falls to the floor, and Kauffman holds onto the cage, dropping his bloody head in exhaustion. After getting his breath back somewhat, Kauffman then walks around to the side of the ring, and locates the chair which was used earlier. A huge roar goes up as the crowd sees Kauffman walking back towards Case with the steel weapon.] RP: Oh crap! Kauffman has that damn chair! LVK: But he's climbing back into the ring! What on earth is he doing? [Kauffman makes his way across the ring and climbs out onto the apron near where Case sits, slumped backfirst against the side of the cage. Case looks up and sees Kauffman on the apron, but can do little but sit and watch as Kauffman takes hold of the chair....and throws it down at Case! Case catches it before it hits him in the face, but a split-second later, Kauffman leaps off the apron, striking out with a kick right into the chair.....] *KAH-DAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKK!!!!* [SHOCKED FACE POP!!!] RP: OH....MY....GODDDDDDD!!! LVK: WHAT A MOVE!!! A DIVING KICK OFF THE APRON, DRIVING THE CHAIR RIGHT INTO DEVON CASE'S FACE!!! RP: Did you hear the noise that chair made when it bounced off of Case's skull? SICKENING! LVK: I think the referee has given up on counting when they're out of the ring - he's just going to let it all go! RP: Which is how it should be! They're in a huge freakin' cage for God's sake! [Climbing back to his feet, Kauffman again throws up the ring apron and looks under the ring. He fishes around, and then pulls out....] LVK: A TABLE!!! OH MY GOD!!! *HUGE HARDCORE POP!!* RP: I don't like the look of this! [Kauffman starts setting up the table at ringside, between the ring and the side of the cage. He gets all four legs out, and then sits it so that its length is perpendicular with the side of the cage, before returning to where Case lies, bloody and beaten.] RP: Damn it's strange seeing the Boyscout using chairs and tables. LVK: Like I've said a million times, this is a different Dan Kauffman! This is a man hellbent on revenge, with no regard for the consequences! [Dragging Case over to the table, Kauffman starts pulling him into position for a standing headscissor, the crowd noise rising in anticipation. But the buzz soon turns sour - HUGE HEEL POP!!] LVK: OH! A vicious low blow by Case! [Pushing the stunned Kauffman back onto the table, Case then grabs hold of the side of the cage, and pulls himself up! HUGE POP!!] RP: HOLY SH[bleep]!! CASE IS CLIMBING THE CAGE....FROM THE INSIDE!!! LVK: NOW THIS IS SOMETHING I'VE *NEVER* SEEN!!!! [Grabbing hold of the wire meshing with both hands, and trying his best to force the points of his wrestling boots in to find some grip, Case rises one hand at a time, the strain and effort showing on his bloody face. As he makes it about halfway up the 20-foot side of the cage, Kauffman runs over and starts to climb after him, bringing an even louder POP!] RP: HOLY GUACAMOLE!! NOW KAUFFMAN'S CLIMBING AFTER HIM! LVK: THIS IS GETTING WILDER BY THE SECOND!! [With one of his boots failing to catch against the cage surface, Case suddenly slips, but manages to catch himself before he plunges to the floor below. He steadies and keeps climbing, finally making it to the part where the wall meets the roof. Cautiously he lets go with one hand and brings it up to the roof, gripping on with fierce determination. Then he brings his other hand over, and his body swings underneath. For a moment the world seems to stand still, as everyone watches, wondering if Case will fall.....but he doesn't.] LVK: NOW CASE IS HANGING ON TO THE UNDERSIDE OF THE CAGE ROOF LIKE A GYMNAST ON A SET OF MONKEY BARS!! RP: Kauffman's nearing the top as well! OH SHIZZY! HE'S CLIMBING OUT AFTER CASE!! LVK: INCREDIBLE!!! [The sight of the two wrestlers clinging to the underside of the cage, their fingers turning white from the strain and their bodies hanging limply below them, sends the fans into another frenzy of cheers. Case somehow manages to turn around, as Kauffman monkey-hangs his way over to him. Then Case suddenly swings his right leg up, catching Kauffman right in the netherregion! HUGE HEEL/PROTEST POP!!] RP: A KICK - RIGHT IN THE CAJOOLIES!!! [For a moment Kauffman hangs, his mouth wide open in shock, and his legs drawn up as far as they can go. His face starts to show strain and determination, but then finally Kauffman gives in to the incredible searing pain shooting through his body, and loses his grip....] *KRA-THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD-CCCKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!* [SHAKE THE FOUNDATIONS SHOCK POP FROM HELL!!!!!] LVK: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RP: OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!!! KAUFFMAN.....FELL..... LVK: RIGHT THROUGH THE TABLE HE SET UP MOMENTS AGO!!!! HE FELL 20 FEET FROM THE UNDERSIDE OF THE CAGE ROOF, RIGHT THROUGH THE TABLE ONTO THE RINGSIDE FLOOR!!! RP: I DON'T KNOW IF CASE IS GOING TO BE ABLE TO HOLD ON MUCH LONGER!!! [Case is showing obvious signs of strain as he hangs from the roof, blood and sweat glistening from his face and upper body. He looks up at his hands, which are white from being cut into by the wire, and then looks down, before swinging his legs forward, then back, and letting go.....] *THWUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!* [GOD ALMIGHTY THAT'S A SHOCK POP!!!] LVK + RP: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RP: I....I.....HOLY F[bleep]ING CRAP!!! LVK: CASE WITH ONE OF THE MOST AMAZINGLY DEATH-DEFYING MOVES I'VE *EVER* SEEN!!! HE SWUNG FROM THE ROOF OF THE CAGE AND LANDED ON KAUFFMAN WITH A CRAZY SPLASH!!! RIGHT ON THE RINGSIDE FLOOR!!! RP: THEY'VE BOTH GOTTA BE DEAD!!! DEAD OR PARALYZED!!! [The surge of sheer disbelief throughout the whole stadium continues as Marc Gioffre rolls from the ring, a look of concern on his face like never before. Case has rolled onto his stomach, and has his knees drawn against his chest as he rocks slightly in agony. Kauffman is still flat out on his back, coughing weakly, his whole body shuddering with each splutter, and his glazed over eyes starring off into space.] LVK: LVK: Devon Case now making his way up the turnbuckles! [Climbing to the top, Case steadies himself, waits for Kauffman to turn around, and then leaps feet-first, aiming a missile dropkick at his bloodied adversary. But Kauffman steps to the side, and unleashes a quick-hitting lariat, catching Case across the chest as he flies through the air, and driving him down into the mat.....] *THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDD!!!!* [DEAFENING FACE POP!!!!] LVK: WHAT A COUNTER!!! WHAT AN AMAZING COUNTER!!! RP: HOW THE HELL'D HE DO THAT?! LVK: I don't know, but I do know...KAUFFMAN IS COVERING! ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!! THR-NOOOO!!!!! [Kauffman gets to his knees, looking at Marc Gioffre with a tired look of pleading frustration. He shakes his head, and simply drops into a cover again!] RP: HE'S TRYING AGAIN!! ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!! LVK: But NO! Only two this time! [Disappointment pop! Kauffman rolls onto his back, and then slowly pushes up to his feet, staggering against the ropes to take a short breather. He then returns to Case, helping him to his feet, and pulling him into a standing headscissor!] LVK: Kauffman now has Case set up....trying to lift him, but Case is blocking! [Kauffman tries once, pauses momentarily, and then tries again, but both times Case drops his weight down and refuses to be lifted, Kauffman's exhaustion adding another barrier. Another pause, and then Kauffman roars in effort, his bloody face straining noticeably as he lifts......] *THUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDD!!!!* [GIANT FACE POP!!!!] LVK: POWERBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMBBBBBBB!!!!! [Kauffman drops down, folding Case in half, with his shoulders into the mat, and his legs almost touching his shoulders.....] ONE!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE- [HUGE DISAPPOINTMENT POP!!!!] RP: NO!!!! THE REF SAYS IT WAS ONLY TWO!!! WOW!!! LVK: Dan Kauffman wasting no time in dragging Case back up! [He pulls Case into another standing headscissor, pausing like that while he tries to catch his breath. He then reaches down and starts to wrap his arms around Case's midsection, but Case counters by simply pushing him off. Case drops to one knee, and Kauffman comes firing back, jumping into the air and bringing his right leg down across the back of Case's neck....] *THUUUUDDDD!!!* LVK: OH! A running legdrop to the back of Case's neck! [Getting back to his feet, Kauffman backs away into a corner, and then comes running back, jumping up and again dropping a leg across the back of his arch-rival's neck....] *THUUUUDDDD!!!* RP: ANOTHER LEGDROP!! [Dragging Case up by a handful of blood-matted hair, Kauffman pulls him into a front facelock, and swings his other arm into the air, drawing a HUGE ANTICIPATION POP from the crowd, who know what's coming next!] *THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!* [FACE POP FROM HELL!!!!!!!] LVK: YASHIMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTTTTTTOOOOOOOOOOOOO DDT!!!!!! RP: NO!!! NOOOO!!!! LVK: THE MOVE THAT BEAT DEVON CASE AT GLORY!!! THE YASHIMOTO DDT!!!! RP: GODDAMMIT!!! [Kauffman doesn't cover right away though, slumping against the ropes in exhaustion. With teeth clenched, he hauls himself over onto his hands and knees, crawls forward a bit, and then flops down onto Case without hooking a leg.....] LVK: HERE'S THE COVER!!!!! ONE!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [?] THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RP: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [TEAR DOWN THE STADIUM DISBELIEF POP FROM HELL!!!!] LVK: WHAT?!?! I DON'T BELIEVE IT!!! CASE KICKED OUT OF THE YASHIMOTO DDT!!!! RP: NOONE HAS EVER DONE THAT!!! NOONE!!! EVER!!! LVK: Dan Kauffman can't believe it! HE CANNOT BELIEVE IT, AND FRANKLY, NEITHER CAN I!!!! [Kauffman looks around in a state of shock, his eyes sweeping over the crowd, then to the referee, looking for answers. Then he drops down again, this time hooking the leg!] LVK: ANOTHER COVER!!! ONE!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! CASE KICKS OUT AGAIN!!!! [Big disappointment pop!] LVK: Dan Kauffman looks to be getting increasingly frustrated! RP: Who can blame him? Having someone kick out of the Yashimoto DDT has to have screwed up his gameplan right on the spot! [Kauffman climbs to his feet, slumping across the top rope with his head hanging limply. After a few seconds he straightens up, wipes some blood from his face, and points to the top rope, a determined nod emphasising it.] LVK: It looks like Kauffman's going up top again! [Kauffman drags Case's limp body up, propping him up on his knees, Devon's eyes rolling back in his head, and his mouth hanging half-open, a stream of blood and drool leaking out and hitting the mat. He then walks over to the corner and quickly climbs the turnbuckles to the top.] LVK: Dan Kauffman is up top, and Devon Case is in no condition to resist in any way! [Kauffman points towards the cloudy night sky, and then leaps, flipping forward and thrusting his right arm out as he comes flying down towards Case. But somehow Case is able to find the instincts to roll to the side, flopping to the mat and avoiding impact.....] *THUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!* RP: GREAT GOOGILY MOOGILY!! CASE MOVED!!! LVK: Kauffman missed with the somersault clothesline - a move I believe he used to use a lot, called the Lights Out! RP: Well, it was almost lights out for Case, but he moved out of the way, and Kauffman slammed frontfirst into the mat! [Kauffman rolls to his knees, his arms clutched across his chest in pain, but then he pushes up to his feet.] LVK: Kauffman's the first to his feet though - Devon Case still feeling the devastating effects of the Yashimoto DDT! RP: I'm surprised Case is conscious! [Kauffman drags Case by the hair, making him crawl over to the ropes. Kauffman then steps through the ropes, and drags Case out with him, onto the apron. Case offers no resistence as Kauffman pulls him into a standing headscissors.....] LVK: OH DEAR GOD!!! HE'S GOING TO POWERBOMB CASE FROM THE APRON TO THE FLOOR!!! [Kauffman tries to lift, but can't get Case's dead weight up. He tries again, but to no avail. Just like before, it is the third try that is the charm, as Kauffman hoists Case into the air, and then drops him down. But through the drop, Case comes to life, rolling through and huracanranaing Kauffman off of the apron! Kauffman flips through the air, and his legs collide with the side of the cage, before he drops down to the floor.....] *KAH-DAAANNNNKKKKKKKKKK!!!!* *THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!* [SHOCK POP!!!!] RP: SWEET MOTHER OF PERLE!! HE HURACANRANAED HIM OFF THE APRON!!! LVK: Kauffman hit the cage *and* the floor hard!! [Kauffman rolls slowly back and forth on the floor, straightening and unstraightening his left leg, while also giving his ribs an occasional painful press. Case climbs to his feet, and then rolls Kauffman back into the ring, before following in after him, not even possessing the energy to climb through the ropes - he simply crawls under the bottom rope. Both wrestlers climb to their feet in the ring, and Case unloads with a short but sharp elbowshot to the face, and then ducks in behind him, applying a rear waistlock.....] *THUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!* [HEAD-DROPPING SHOCK POP!!!!] LVK: GOOD GOD!!! A RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX - DUMPING KAUFFMAN RIGHT ON HIS HEAD!!! RP: Goddamn - it is *so* over!! LVK: WAIT A MINUTE! KAUFFMAN'S GETTING UP!!! [With the fans cheering loudly, Kauffman pushes up to his feet on wobbly legs, one hand clutching to the back of his head. He turns, but right as Case comes running towards him, lifting his right leg into the air....] *THWACCKKK!!!* RP: AND NOW A YAKUZA KICK!!! [The kick sends Kauffman down to one knee, but he valiantly pushes back up to his feet, as Case turns and runs into ropes, coming rebounding back at full force....] *THWAAACCCKKK!!!* LVK: DEAR GOD!!! A SECOND!! RP: Why won't Kauffman stay down? [Kauffman is again knocked down to one knee, but this time Case joins him in a similar pose, his brought on by fatigue. After a few seconds both tired wrestlers get back to their feet, and Case backs into the ropes again, and surges towards Kauffman with his boot raised....] RP: YAKUZA KICK NUMBER THR- *THUUUUUUUDDD!!!* [BIG FACE POP!!!] LVK: NOOO!!! KAUFFMAN COUNTERED WITH A JUMPING LARIAT!! AMAZING!!! RP: How many times have we seen this tonight? Both wrestlers flat out on their backs, staring up at those huge towers of lights, every ounce of energy gone from their bloody and beaten bodies! LVK: Yet they've still found a way to continue every time! RP: I've said it before, and I'll say it again - the chance to win a World title brings out great things in great men. And when you add the pure, seething hatred these two have for one another....well, we're seeing the results tonight! LVK: Yes we are, and loving it! [Both wrestlers again struggle to their feet, and Case unloads with a couple of tired-looking punches to the side of Kauffman's face. Kauffman absorbs the punishment, and then ducks a third punch, moving in behind and locking his arms around Case's waist. Case tries to fight it with a back elbow, but Kauffman ducks that as well, and then finishes what he started....] *THUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!* LVK: OH MY GOD!!! NOW IT'S KAUFFMAN WITH A RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX!!! RP: Isn't it a bit late in the match for oneupmanship? LVK: Not when you're talking about two athletes like Devon Case and Dan Kauffman! RP: Kauffman doesn't even have the energy to cover him! [Again both wrestlers are down, Kauffman rolling onto his stomach with one bloody cheek pressed against the mat, his eyes opening and focussing on nothing at all, before closing again. Case lies on his back, the blood from his forehead by now splattered over most of his upper body, and his eyes closed as his head slowly rocks from side to side.] LVK: The number of high-impact blows these two men have taken tonight is simply amazing! I know we've seen some gruelling matches in RCW over the years, but to be quite frank, I don't remember a match with quite so much...uh...how do you put it Rick? RP: Um....head-dropping? LVK: Yes, that's it. I'm downright shocked that either of these two athletes is still conscious! RP: Not only are they conscious, but getting back to their feet again! [A HUGE APPRECIATION POP greets the sight of the two blood-drenched warriors struggling up onto uneasy legs, both in states which can only be described as semi-consciousness. Case strikes first, but again his punches are tired and ineffectual. Kauffman backs off and then charges, but Case drops to one knee, and simply drives his shoulder into Kauffman's midsection!] RP: I don't know if Case meant to do that, or if he just fell down with exhaustion and got lucky! [Climbing back to his feet, Case turns and runs into the ropes, as Kauffman blindly gets back to his feet.....] *THWAAAAAAAACCKKKKK!!!!* [SHOCK POP!!!] LVK: DEAR GOD!! THAT'S THE FOURTH OR FIFTH YAKUZA KICK DAN KAUFFMAN HAS BEEN HIT WITH!!! RP: UN-FRIGGIN'-BELIEVABLE!! MOST WRESTLERS'D BE ON A STRETCHER AFTER THAT MANY!!! LVK: Devon Case now dragging Kauffman back to his feet.... [HUGE MOTHERF**KING ANTICIPATION/SHOCK POP!!!] RP: CASE CLOSED COMING UP!!! IT'S OVER!!! [Case stands in front of Kauffman, reaching back and holding onto his arms, while pushing Kauffman's head down. Case then spins, so that Kauffman moves in front of him, while he still has hold of the arms. Case ducks down, driving his head between Kauffman's legs from behind....] LVK: YES!! THAT'S THE SET UP FOR THE CASE CLOSED ALRIGHT!!! [But Kauffman somehow finds the presence of mind to try and block it. He pushes his right leg through the ropes, so that when Case tries to lift him into the air, his progress is blocked! BIG FACE POP!!!] LVK: OHHH!! KAUFFMAN'S BLOCKING IT!! RP: Son a bitch! [Case tries again, but still finds it blocked, so angrily lets go of Kauffman's arms, before taking hold of one of them again and dragging Kauffman away from the corner. In a flash, Case grabs Kauffman's bloody head in an inverted facelock, and before Kauffman can do anything, drops down to the mat.....] *THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!* [THUNDERING SHOCK POP!!!!] RP: THE STRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPP~! LVK: CASE NAILED IT!!! RP: IT'S ALL OVER!!! [Case doesn't cover immediately, but crawls over and slumps onto Kauffman's chest, not hooking a leg.] LVK: HERE'S THE COVER!!! ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEE- [DEAFENING FACE POP!!!!!] RP: SWEET MERCIFUL CRAP!!! HE KICKED OUT!!! LVK: INCREDIBLE!!! SIMPLY INCREDIBLE!!! [With the fans going absolutely crazy, the two wrestlers stagger back to their feet. Out of desperation, the groggy Kauffman swings a crazy, blind lariat, but Case easily ducks it. He nails a kick to Kauffman's gut, and then moves in behind, grabbing both of Kauffman's arms, and bending down to push his head between Kauffman's legs. He lifts, as the entire stadium rises in anticipation....] *THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!* [THUNDEROUS REALISATION/HIGHSPOT POP!!!!!!!] LVK: OH MY GOD!!! CASE CLOSED!!! THIS TIME HE HIT THE CASE CLOSED!! RP: IT IS *OVER*!!! [Case doesn't cover though, falling to the mat from sheer exhaustion. A few seconds later he finally rolls over, and slumps across Kauffman's unmoving body.] LVK: HERE'S THE COVER!!!!! ONE!!!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [?] THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE- [HOLY SHIT SHOCK POP FROM HELL!!!!!!] RP: WHAT THE F[bleep}?!?! LVK: I DON'T BELIEVE IT!!! DAN KAUFFMAN GOT HIS FOOT ON THE ROPES!! THAT IS THE FIRST TIME ANYONE HAS *EVER* ESCAPED AFTER THE CASE CLOSED!!! INCREDIBLE!! RP: Holy cow, now I've seen every damn thing! [Case rolls to his knees, his bloodied face telling the tale of how he currently feels. His eyes are wide in shock, but his jaw in clenched in disbelief and anger, as he looks to Marc Gioffre for answers. Climbing to his feet, and plodding over to the official, Case grabs Gioffre by the shirt, tiredly holding up three fingers.] LVK: Devon Case can't believe it wasn't three! RP: Noone has ever survived the Case Closed! NOONE! [Gioffre vehemently shakes his head and holds up two fingers, and Case drops his head in defeat. He then lets go of Gioffre, and slowly turns to walk away, the very definition of dejection. Gioffre turns back to Kauffman, but then suddenly Case spins around in a blur, and surges forward, his right leg thrusting into the air.....] *THWAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!!!!* [DEAFENING HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!] RP: HOLY SH[bleep]!!!! CASE DROPPED THE REF!!! LVK: WHAT ON EARTH WAS HE THINKING?!?! HE JUST HIT MARC GIOFFRE WITH A YAKUZA KICK!!! RP: OH MAN - THE REF'S *OUT*!! [The look of dejection now replaced by a growl of furious anger, Case stands over the unmoving figure of Marc Gioffre, screaming unintelligable words down at him. The HEEL POP FROM HELL continues as he adds emphasis to his words by spitting a wad of phlegm and blood down onto the unconscious official.] LVK: CASE HAS LOST IT!! HE HAS SIMPLY LOST IT!! RP: Well, having a guy survive after your seemingly-unbeatable move, that's gotta be the biggest shock to the system ever! LVK: Yes, but HITTING THE DAMN REFEREE?!? THAT'S GOING TOO FAR!!! [Case bends down next to Gioffre, and starts patting him down.] RP: What the hell? LVK: He's going through Marc Gioffre's pockets, looking for something! RP: Is he stealing his wallet?! [REALIZATION POP!!!] LVK: KEYS!!! CASE GOT THE KEYS TO THE CAGE OUT OF THE REFEREE'S POCKET!!! RP: Oh man, what the hell's he up to? [With the keys firmly in his hand, Case rolls from the ring and makes his way over to the cage door. He grabs the padlock, pulling it around onto the inside of the door, and then sets to work with the keys.] LVK: He's unlocking the cage! But why? To let someone in? [With a bit of fidgeting, the padlock pops open, and Case takes it off of the door and drops it to the floor. He swings open the wire-mesh, metal-framed door, and takes an uneasy, tired step through it. HEEL POP!!!] LVK: The fans here in Dallas Texas aren't appreciating this one bit! It appears to me like Devon Case is getting the hell out of town! RP: No way! He wouldn't run away from a fight! LVK: Well, it sure looks like he is right now! [Case takes another step away from the cage, but suddenly stops and hunches over, coughing and sputtering painfully. He drops to one knee, spitting a wad of blood onto the floor, and then falls back to the floor, unable to go any further.] LVK: Look at this! Devon Case is a man whose body is telling him "no more"! He simply cannot go on! RP: And Kauffman's still down in the ring after the Case Closed....the ref's still out - everyone's down for the count! LVK: What a collection of gruelling, bloody matches this stadium has seen tonight! It's been something else! RP: We had a lot of live up to after the first Caged Rage, which was voted as one of the top supercards of 2001, but without a doubt, tonight has been a hundred times better! LVK: The fans here in Dallas Texas sure have been witness to an amazing spectacle, as have all of you watching at home. *KAUFF-MAN!! KAUFF-MAN!!* *DEV-ON! DEV-ON!* *KAUFF-MAN!! KAUFF-MAN!!* *DEV-ON! DEV-ON!* LVK: And speaking of the fans here in the Cotton Bowl stadium, they're on their feet urging these two amazing athletes to get to their feet and continue this war! RP: I don't know if they're gonna be able to Van Keel! They don't seem to have anything left! LVK: Hold the phone! I do believe Dan Kauffman is trying to get up! [A HUGE FACE POP greets the sight of the bloody and beaten Kauffman grabbing hold of the middle rope with his right hand, and pulling himself into a sitting position. Meanwhile, outside the ring, Devon Case struggles up to his feet. Kauffman places his other hand on the top rope and pulls his bodyweight up - struggling and then dropping back to one knee.] RP: I don't believe it! They're *both* getting up! [Case staggers over to the raised rampway, and slumps his upperbody onto it, swinging his right leg up onto it like a rider mounting a horse. But his overwhelming exhaustion stops him from completely rolling onto the rampway, leaving him straddling the edge with his head slumped against the top. Back in the ring, Dan Kauffman is on his hands and knees, and he starts to slowly crawl his way towards the open cage door....] *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* *KAUFF-MAN! KAUFF-MAN!* [As Kauffman reaches the door and pulls his way through the ropes and out the door, Case finally pulls all of his weight up onto the rampway, and then gets to his knees. He looks back and sees Kauffman coming after him, turns to look at the entranceway an unusually long way away, and then at the cage. Grabbing a handful of the wire mesh siding, he pulls himself to his feet on the rampway.] LVK: What's Devon Case going to do now? Is he going to walk out on this match or stay and fight? [BIG SHOCK POP!!] RP: NEITHER! HE'S CLIMBING UP THE SIDE OF THE GODDAMNED CAGE!!! LVK: GOOD GOD!! YOU'RE RIGHT!!! [Grabbing hold of the mesh siding tightly, Case slowly pulls his way up, repeating the climbing process he employed earlier when he climbed up the inside of the cage. Kauffman reaches the rampway, and slides up onto it.] LVK: We've already seen Devon Case fall more than 20 feet from the top of the cage once tonight, albeit from the inside - to be going up there again, he's either got to be so exhausted he's lost all judgement, or he's completely crazy! RP: I dunno Van Keel, but he's climbing! HE'S GOING TO THE TOP!! [THUNDEROUS FACE/SHOCK POP!!!!] LVK: OH MY GOD!!! KAUFFMAN'S CLIMBING UP AFTER HIM!!! RP: OH SH[bleep]!!! [Case by now has made it to about three quarters of the way up the 20 foot cage side, and he stops and looks down to see Kauffman climbing, only about 7-8 feet below him. He then starts climbing again.] LVK: This is completely insane! Either of these wrestlers could lose their grip from exhaustion at any moment and plummet to his death! [With a big heave, Case pulls his upperbody up and over the edge of the cage's roof, and then swings his legs up and over as well, clinging to the top and breathing heavily.] RP: Case's made it to the top and.....who's this? LVK: Teddy Lancaster! With Marc Gioffre still down and hurt in the ring, I guess Teddy's coming out to take over the officiating! RP: He's yelling for Kauffman to climb down, but I don't think he's gonna listen to him! LVK: Not in a million years! The man Dan Kauffman wants to get his hands back on is on top of that cage, so on top of that cage is where Kauffman wants to be! [Onwards and upwards Kauffman climbs, the fans cheering him on. Finally he reaches the top and pulls himself up. The top of the cage contains four big beam-like structures running lengthways, and two running widthways. Between these beams are large patches of open wire meshing. Case has made his way to the first beam, and is slumped over it. But he straightens and turns around as he sees Kauffman getting to his feet on the cage. POP!!] LVK: BOTH WRESTLERS ARE NOW STANDING UP ON THE TOP OF THIS RAGE IN THE CAGE STRUCTURE, SOME 20 FEET ABOVE THE STADIUM'S GROUND-LEVEL! RP: Oh man, I haven't felt this damn nervous since the first Caged Rage! I hate heights, and even from down here I feel nauseous watching them up there! [Kauffman staggers across the wire roof towards Case, and is met immediately with a big right hand! POP! Kauffman takes a step back, and then answers back with a right hand of his own. Within the blink of an eye, they start to swap punches back and forth, eliciting a HUGE BRAWL ON TOP OF A CAGE POP!!!] LVK: GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY!! HIGH ABOVE US, TWO MEN HELLBENT ON DESTROYING EACH OTHER ARE GOING TO WAR!!! A WAR FOUGHT ON TOP OF THIS HUGE METALLIC STRUCTURE, SMACKDAB IN THE MIDDLE OF THE COTTON BOWL STADIUM!!! [Back and forth the punches go, until both wrestlers succumb to fatigue again, and their blows start to lose impact. Case ducks a big looping punch from Kauffman, and then gets a second wind, unloading with a HUGE right hand, then another, and another....] RP: CASE IS POUNDING AWAY AT KAUFFMAN - BACKING HIM CLOSER TO THE EDGE!!! [The fans rise in giddy, nervous anticipation, watching their hero coming closer and closer to falling to certain doom. Another punch, then another, and finally Case stops, with Kauffman's feet mere inches from the ledge....] LVK: DEAR GOD!!! I CAN'T WATCH!! RP: HE'S GONNA GO OVER!! KAUFFMAN'S GONNA GO!!! [Case pauses, catching his breath, as Kauffman sways, teetering on the edge. Raising his cocked right fist, Case then steps forward, and swings....] [BIG ASS FACE POP!!!!] LVK: NOOO!! KAUFFMAN DUCKED!!! [Throwing himself to the cage roof's surface, Kauffman evades doom. Case turns and stalks after him, but walks straight into a defensive kick to the gut from Kauffman, who then rolls to his feet, renewed vigor in his actions. With teeth clenched and a determined scowl on his face, Kauffman pounds Case with a punch, stunning him, and then leaps into the air.....] *THWAAACKK!!* *KAH-LAAANNKKKK!!!* RP: ARGGGHHHH! DROPKICK BY KAUFFMAN!!!! [Case tries to stay on his feet after the impact of the dropkick, turning and stumbling away from Kauffman. But as he turns, his feet hit against one of the metal beams, tripping him and sending him tumbling across the roof surface.....] RP: ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! [.....and over the edge!!] LVK: DEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRR GOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!! [DEAFENING SHOCK/DISAPPOINTMENT/RELIEF POP!!!!!!!!] RP: NOOOOOOO!!!!! CASE CAUGHT HOLD OF THE CAGE!!! HE DIDN'T FALL!!!!! LVK: INCREDIBLE!!!! [Clinging with one hand to the roof of the cage, Case dangles dangerously. He swings his other arm up and gets a second grip on the wire meshing, as the fans continue to go ABSOLUTELY NUTS!!] LVK: DEVON CASE IS CLINGING ON FOR DEAR LIFE!!! A LIFE WHICH SURELY MUST HAVE FLASHED BEFORE HIS EYES MERE MOMENTS AGO!!! [Case pulls himself up onto the roof, and rolls away from the edge, his eyes wide with sheer terror. He then rolls to his knees, and then his feet, as Kauffman too gets up. Case swings a punch....] LVK: BLOCKED BY KAUFFMAN! [The crowd explodes into a GIANT-SIZED FACE POP as Kauffman answers back, rocking Case with a big punch. Kauffman also sways, almost falling over, but then follows up with another punch, sending Case staggering back a step....] RP: KAUFFMAN'S POUNDING ON CASE - SENDING HIM BACK CLOSER TO THE EDGE!!! *THWACK!* [Crowd: BOOOOMM!] *THWACK!* [Crowd: BOOOOMM!] *THWACK!* [Crowd: BOOOOMM!] *THWACK!* [Crowd: BOOOOMM!] LVK: OH MY GOD!!! CASE IS BACKED UP TO THE EDGE!!! RP: OH DAMN! THIS ISN'T GOOD!!! [The camera zooms over the edge, showing the ringside area, with the timekeeper's table straight below, and a sea of screaming fans looking upwards.] LVK: ONE MORE PUNCH AND CASE IS GOING OVER!!! [Case sways, just inches from the edge, and Kauffman grabs him by the hair, cocking his fist straight back. An ENORMOUS ANTICIPATION POP goes up around the stadium....] LVK: HERE IT COMES!! [But before Kauffman can follow through, Case drops to his knees and swings a punch of his own, right into Kauffman's groin region!] [HUGE MOTHERF**KING HEEL POP!!!!] LVK: OOOOOOHHHHH!!! A LOW BLOW BY CASE!!!!! [Case rolls away from the edge, as Kauffman drops to his knees, his mouth hanging open in shocked pain. Case rolls to his feet, taking a moment to clear his head, hunched over with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. Kauffman turns and gets to his feet, still in pain, and Case straightens, and lunges forward in one sweeping motion.....] *THWAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKK!!!!* LVK: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Having been caught square on the chin by a huge superkick from Case, Kauffman goes flying back.....right over the edge.] [SCREAMING SHOCK POP FROM HELL!!!!!!!!!!!] [This time there's no grabbing the cage to stop from falling though. Kauffman plummets straight downwards.....] *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *KAH-CRAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK-THUUUUUUUNNNNNNPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!* [MOTHERF**KING SHOCK POP TO END ALL SHOCK POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!] LVK: OH MY DEAR GOD!!!! OH MY GOD!!!! RP: HOLY [bleep]ING SH[bleep]!!! GOOD GODDAMN!!! LVK: DAN KAUFFMAN JUST PLUMMETTED MORE THAN 20 FEET FROM THE TOP OF THE CAGE AND WENT CRASHING THROUGH A RINGSIDE TABLE!!!! RP: SOMEBODY GET AN AMBULANCE!!! GET SOME HELP OUT HERE!!!! [As the entire stadium - 60,000 screaming fans - remain on their feet, screaming, yelling and basically going absolutely apeshit, Devon Case staggers over to the edge of the cage, looking down at Kauffman lying sprawled on his back amongst the debris of the table. Blood drying across his face in large streaks, he looks down....and smiles!] LVK: GOOD GOD!! LOOK AT DEVON CASE!!! HE'S SMILING!!! THE SADISTIC SON OF A BITCH!!! [The smile suddenly melts off of Case's face, and his eyes grow wide, in a look which can only be described as realisation mixed with absolute terror. Then he thrusts both arms into the air, and takes a step closer to the edge.] RP: WHAT? WHAT THE HELL IS CASE DOING?!? LVK: OH NO!! NO - HE WOULDN'T!! HE COULDN'T!!! [Wouldn't and couldn't aren't two words that can be used in the context of Devon Case though. He takes another step, and then pushes away from the cage!] LVK: CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE!!!!!!!!! *flashbulb* *flashbulb* *flashbulb* [In a completely surreal moment, Case plunges towards the earth, drawing his arms and legs under his body, and then thrusting them back out moments before impact......] *THW-UUGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH-KRCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK-UUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!* [TEAR THE FUCKING PLACE DOWN BECAUSE THAT'S A MOTHERFUCKING SHOCK POP IF EVER THERE'S BEEN ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] RP: ARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [On impact, Case bounces a good foot back into the air, Kauffman folding upwards and inwards, a loud noise escaping his lips, sounding like a cross between a scream and a barf, as all of the oxygen escapes from his body in one huge burst. Case then comes back down, and slumps across Kauffman's body, neither man moving at all.] RP: I.....I DON'T F[bleep]ING BELIEVE IT!!! I DO NOT F[bleep]ING BELIEVE IT!!!! LVK: NEITHER DO I!!! WE HAVE JUST WITNESSED THE BIGGEST GODDAMNED FROGSPLASH *EVER*!!! THE MOST INSANE BUMP I HAVE EVER SEEN ANYONE TAKE!!!! SHEER INSANITY!!! [The fans continue to go absolutely nuts, not quite believing what they've just witnessed. Teddy Lancaster rushes over to Case and Kauffman, a look of absolute terror on his face. He drops down to check on them both, as EMTs and other worried officials rush down the rampway, some carrying stretchers.] LVK: Oh....my God. Help is coming out now, and frankly fans, we've got to be worried about the two men who are currently down in the wreckage of that table, and not moving. *Very* worried. RP: Oh man, Van Keel - I feel sick. I think I'm gonna yack. [Teddy Lancaster climbs back to his feet, and is greeted by Ray Quinn and other officials jumping down off the rampway. Lancaster and Quinn start talking in a panic, but what they don't see is Marc Gioffre climbing out of the cage, holding his head. He looks down and sees Case on top of Kauffman, and drops to the floor.] LVK: GIOFFRE!!! ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 [DEAFENING SHOCK/HEEL/CONFUSION POP!!!!!] RP: WHAT?! GIOFFRE COUNTED!!! CASE WAS ON TOP OF KAUFFMAN, SO HE COUNTED!!!! LVK: THIS IS INSANE!!! [As the fans continue to go crazy, not knowing quite what to think, Gioffre runs over to David Stokes. Stokes listens and nods.] DS: Ladies and gentlemen, referee Marc Gioffre has just informed me that the winner of this match.....and the FIRST EVER RCW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION.... is.... DEVON CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSEEEE!!!!!! [An EARTHQUAKE SHOCK/HEEL POP explodes around the stadium!] RP: WOOHOO!!! YEAH!!! CASE WINS!!! CASE IS THE CHAMPION!!!! LVK: He may be the champion, but he's not even conscious!!! [Larry's words are very true, as EMTs and officials swarm around the two fallen warriors, working frantically on them. Both wrestlers are by now sporting neckbraces, and are showing no signs of life. Case is the first one loaded onto a stretcher, and Marc Gioffre walks over with the World Heavyweight title belt. He looks confused for a moment, but then simply shrugs, and lays the belt across Case's unmoving body, and raises his right arm in the air.] LVK: THIS IS CRAZY!! WE HAVE CROWNED A NEW CHAMPION, BUT NEITHER OF THESE TWO MEN MIGHT EVER WRESTLE AGAIN!!! RP: If this is the last time we ever see Devon Case and Dan Kauffman, they sure picked a great way to go out! [Two EMTs lift Case's stretcher up onto the rampway, then climb up and start leading him off, a third EMT holding up a liquid bag which has been attached to the new champion's arm. EMTs continue to work on Kauffman at ringside.] LVK: Fans, I don't know quite what to say right now, other than thank you for watching tonight. I know for sure that you'll never, ever forget this night. I know I won't, and Rick, I'm sure you won't.... RP: Hell no. LVK: What a night it's been, but Caged Rage 2 is finally over. From the Cotton Bowl in Dallas, Texas, this is Larry Van Keel, for Rick Perle, saying SO LONG EVERYONE!! [Fade to credits.] (c) RCW Productions, 2002.