[Low, sinister music pulses in the background as we fade up on footage from the closing moments of the Lethal Lottery battle royal at Snow Brawl, subtitled "December 21, 1996." Three men are left in the ring: Marty Warnett and Chris Quigley drag Casey James to his feet and whip him into the ropes. Casey ducks under a double clothesline attempt, and fires back with a flying double clothesline of his own. Quigley gets back to his feet, pulling himself back up using the ropes, and Casey charges in. Quigley ducks, and Casey tumbles over the top rope. Amazingly, he manages to keep his balance, and lands on the apron. He grabs Quigley from behind and suplexes "Quickstrike" out of the ring to the outside! Huge pop! Casey just manages to keep hold of the ropes before he too tumbles to the outside. He falls through the ropes back into the ring. The words of the ring announcer echo as the footage slows and freezes:] RA: "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley has been eliminated! [A voice over continues:] VO: With the elimination of "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley, Casey James knocked out the man whom many considered to be the clear favourite to win the Lethal Lottery and earn the chance to face IIWF World Champion Dan Kauffman. Casey James has made it a habit to surprise. [Cut to footage from IIWF Midsummer Madness, subtitled "August 17, 1996." Brian Lau stands in the ring with Hakiro Matsuoko, Joe Latta and Tiger Claw, with a microphone in his hand:] BL: And now, the moment you've been waiting for... ["Foul Taste of Freedom" by Pro-Pain begins to play over the PA...] The fourth member of the Syndicate. Yes, contrary to all the vicious rumour-mongering that's been going on for weeks, we have a fourth member. He's strong, he's mighty. He is the great one... [Brian lets the song kick in full force] BL: I give to you: CASEY... "BLACKHEART"... JAAAAAAMMMMMES! [The crowd goes ballistic with their heel pop. Casey comes out to the aisle dressed in black tights, and for the first time in his career, flexes his titanic arm, shoulder, and chest muscles. Trash gets thrown at him, and he gets noticably annoyed. He begins to yell, "You're all nobodies! You're worthless! You're weak!! YOU'RE THE AMERICAN WAY!" This gets the crowd even more worked up. Finally, Casey gets to the ring and showboats a little more. He then joins the other Syndicate members. As he slaps hands with Latta and Claw, the shot freezes once more.] VO: Ever since he turned his back on his country and his fans, Casey James has been on a mission -- a mission to destroy. For months, he worked on honing his skills and perfecting his gameplan. Only when he was sure that the time was right did he finally put his plan into action. His target: Dan Kauffman. His aim: to take the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship. [Cut to a montage of footage shot by Casey's handheld camcorder: Casey puts the boots to Brandon Bennett in the street.] VO: Systematically, carefully and methodically, Casey James targeted Dan Kauffman's weak spots: first, his coach, Brandon Bennett... [Cut to Casey rifling through Kauffman's luggage in a Rome hotel room.] VO: Secondly, James robbed Kauffman of his privacy... [Cut to Casey holding up a dog collar, with a tag reading, "Bosco."] VO: Thirdly, he robbed Kauffman of his dog. Casey James tried to get to Dan Kauffman, and it worked. Tonight, Casey James gets his shot at the IIWF World Heavyweight Champion in a no holds barred, no disqualification, no countout match. Tonight, live on... [The opening graphics explode onto the screen as the title music kicks in:] ##### ###### ### ########## ########## ########## #### ## ########## ########## ########## #### # #### ######## ##### ##### #### ## ##### #### #### #### #### ### #### #### #### #### ############# ######### #### #### ########### ######### #### #### #### #### #### ######### ######### ### #### #### ######### ######### ### ## #### ######## ######## ## # #### =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ## =-=-=-= INTERNATIONAL INTERNET WRESTLING FEDERATION =============================================== S + A + T + U + R + D + A + Y N + I + G + H + T ----------------------------------------------- + LiVE + IIWF Coliseum + 4 January 1997 + [The opening graphics fade through to interior shots of the jam-packed IIWF Coliseum. Fireworks explode in the rafters and coloured spotlights swirl over the crowd as the shot swings over the excited fans. The IIWF logo spins on the canvas of the ring. The shot pans down past row upon row of merchandise-decked, sign-waving fans, and comes to rest on the broadcast table in the ringside enclosure, at which stand Tim Dross and "Soundbite" Steve Roberts. As Dross raises his microphone, another volley of fireworks creates a loud explosion. Big pop!] TD: Whoa! The IIWF blasts off into an explosive new year! Good evening, fans, and welcome to the IIWF Coliseum. We're coming at you live and loud with another edition of IIWF Saturday Night! I'm Tim Dross, and beside me, as always, is my broadcast colleague, "Soundbite" Steve Roberts. SR: And, as always, the pleasure is all yours, Dross. TD: That's debatable. But what a show we've got lined up... You heard at the top of the show about tonight's main event, the no DQ, no countout World Championship Match between Dan Kauffman and Casey James. I can't even begin to imagine what kind of action we're going to see in that one, Steve. SR: Well, I'll see if I can sum it up for you, Dross: Casey. Kicks. Kauffman's. Ass. TD: I'm not sure about that, Steve. Certainly Casey has proven himself to be one of the most ruthless and vicious competitors in the IIWF, but the IIWF Champion is no stranger to bending the rules in order to survive. I think we're going to see Kauffman fight fire with fire here tonight. SR: Speaking of fire, Steve "the Fury" Kowalski has set the IIWF ablaze by capturing the IIWF Intercontinental Championship two weeks ago at Snow Brawl. TD: Many consider that victory over "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare to have been something of a shock, or an upset... SR: [interrupting] Sure, it upset Shakespeare that his plans to hide behind the officials he's been paying off failed, but it was no shock that Kowalski won that belt. And tonight, when he steps into the ring to face that half-wit, Warty Walnut... TD: [interrupting] That's Marty Warnett, Steve. SR: Whatever. When he gets that Welsh wimp in the ring, it's going to be Walnut on the receiving end of a shock -- the Skullpump. TD: That remains to be seen. The IIWF World Tag Team Championship will also be up for grabs here tonight, as the High Plains Drifters defend against the Dark Disciples, the winners of the tag team battle royal from two weeks back at Snow Brawl. Will the Syndicate finally get their hands on the tag team gold here in the IIWF? SR: I think the Disciples are a fantastic team, Dross, but the Drifters were born to wear those belts. The Armed Forces may think they have more claim to the titles, but in my eyes, the Drifters are the best tag team champions the IIWF has ever seen. The Disciples are really going to have to take it to Pale and Easy to grab those titles. TD: It's certainly going to be a knock down, drag out affair. We'll also see the IIWF's new Cruiserweight Champion, the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi, in non-title action as he battles a recently-returned former title-holder, the "Badboy" Randy Acorn. Plus, in a Cage Match, Otto "the Butcher" Verhoeven battles Harlequin Tragedy. SR: I really can't wait for that one, Dross. The Butcher's going to dice that painted freak into chunks through that steel cage. TD: What a picturesque way of putting it. It's worth bearing in mind that Tragedy has never lost a Cage Match in his entire career. SR: There's a first time for everything -- and a last time, too. I don't expect Tragedy will ever want to step in the ring again after the Butcher is through with him tonight. TD: I'm not sure that the Sandman isn't going to be a factor in that match, after the situation that's been brewing between him and Verhoeven recently. In any case, we'll also be seeing the Armed Forces face G.W.R. in an effort to settle other unfinished business, plus the "Real Deal" Luke Steele will face "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder, who seems to have recovered from the brutal attack he suffered at the hands of the Syndicate in midweek. SR: The Syndicate should realise that it's going to take more than a car windshield to put Thunder down for the count. He's one of the toughest competitors in the IIWF, and Steele's going to bear the full brunt of Thunder's furious anger in the ring tonight. TD: The "Real Deal" had better be prepared for a stormy time in the ring, that's for sure. The unorthodox Dirt Dog Unique Allah is also scheduled for action tonight, as he faces the impressive American Patriot. Care to pick a winner there, Steve? SR: Not really. There's a really cute blonde in the crowd over there... TD: That seems like a good cue to get up to the ring for tonight's opening encounter, which pits Deathbringer against Scott "the Whine" Bloom. Deathbringer was absolutely incensed at what he sees as Chris Quigley costing him the IIWF World Championship by interfering in his match with Dan Kauffman at Snow Brawl, but he has since been given other things to think about, as the "Epitome of Evil" Serge Annis attempted to toast the former champion this past Wednesday. SR: Annis is an impressive competitor, but he may have made a mistake in raising Deathbringer's ire with that fire fixation of his. I don't know who I'd pick if those two met in the ring. TD: It seems that a meeting between Deathbringer and Annis is a distinct possibility, but for now 'Bringer must turn his attention to the "Whine". Let's get up to Sparkplug Lee for the introductions. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Deathbringer vs. Scott "the Whine" Bloom -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= [Sparkplug Lee stands in the ring. He raises his microphone:] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's opening encounter is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, already in the ring, hailing from Albany, New York, and weighing in at 195lbs, here is Scott "the Whine" Bloom! [Moderate heel pop for the scrawny athlete, who pats himself on the back and signals that he's "number one."] SR: Bloom could do with bulking up if he's going to get into the ring with a monster like Deathbringer. RA: And introducing his opponent... [The lights in the arena drop. Huge heel pop! The first few bars of "The Reaper" by Grave Digger kick in, but then stop as a figure holding a lighter aloft runs down the aisle and enters the ring. Confused pop.] TD: Hey! What's going on here? SR: It's not the White Phoney again, is it?! [The lights quickly rise once more, and Serge Annis is seen standing in the ring. Big mixed pop! Annis shuts off his Zippo lighter and clotheslines the "Whine" from the ring before threatening Sparkplug Lee, who quickly hands over the microphone. Serge is wearing his wrestling attire; black pants and boots, with his wrists taped. He is also wearing a black leather jacket with the word "EPITOME" written on its back.] TD: Where's Deathbringer?! SA: SHUT UP YOU INGRATES! I'm out here to talk about something that needs to be said! First of all, Dan Kauffman. Tonight you wrestle Casey James. I could care less whether you walk away with the IIWF World title. In fact, I hope you don't, because then I will get my match sooner! Kauffman, if you think my mind games won't work... hehehe... just remember... there's more than one way to skin a cat... or a Kauffman. You watch your back, Danny, otherwise you may feel five fingers upside your throat as you go up for a chokeslam. [Crowd gives a heel pop.] Now... the real reason I came out here isn't to talk about Mr. Dan "I'm-Going-To-Get-My-Neck-Snapped-Soon" Kauffman... but about someone...to whom some might consider I owe an apology. Mr. Deathbringer. Last Wednesday night, I seemed to have hit you with the flame that was meant for Kauffman. A simple mistake. An accident... but you want to get in my face about it... and brawl with me outside the ring. Well, Deathbringer... I'M NOT SORRY! THE ONLY THING I AM SORRY ABOUT IS THAT I DIDN'T DO MORE DAMAGE WITH THAT FIRE! Deatbringer... I may be new around the IIWF, but I know some things. You don't doubt Chris Quigley... you don't trust Casey James...and you don't doubt Deathbringer... AND I DON'T! You certainly get the job done, dead man! TD: [over the headset] There's certainly no denying that. SR: [over the headset] If Annis is going to call 'Bringer out, he could be making a very big mistake. But Wednesday night... I sat and thought about what lies behind the mask of the dead man? What mystery does he hold? What secret does this _mortal_ man bring to the ring? That's right. I said mortal. Let's get real, people... there are no supernatural beings or unearthly powers... just demons haunting one's soul, mind and body... I know where my demons lie... AND I LIKE THEM! But Deathbringer, you thrive on the fear of your opponents. You like to play mind games... well, Deathbringer, if you want to play games with my mind... I don't think you are prepared to find out what horrors my mind holds. What demons I hold dear to the soul. I DON'T FEAR YOU, DEAD MAN! BECAUSE YOU ARE NO DIFFERENT THAN KAUFFMAN! NO DIFFERENT THAN TIM DROSS! SR: [over the headset] I wouldn't go that far, Serge. Deathbringer isn't an overweight little idiot with fake hair. TD: [over the headset] Thanks a lot, Steve. SA: NO DIFFERENT! No different than the Gecko... a simple man behind the mask... hehehe... What is there to fear? Other than the truth? I AM NOT SCARED OF YOU, DEATHBRINGER! I'm not intimidated! [The lights in the arena flicker a little. The crowd gives a small pop. Annis continues to shout over the PA system.] TD: [over the headset] Are we going to see Deathbringer come out here and shut Annis up? SA: Deathbringer... if this is supposed to be a mind game... it is certainly not working... hehehe... I love the darkness... I cherish the darkness! hehehe... [The four ring corners suddenly spew fire. Big pop!] TD: [over the headset] Wow! SA: Hehehe. _Your_ darkness, Deathbringer, I can light up... _my_ darkness is a whole other side of light and darkness you have never imagined possible... Welcome to my world now, Deathbringer... hehehe... where your mind games won't work... where your intimidations have no effect. You may be bigger than me, dead man... but I don't know if you're as smart as me... hehehe... mind games, Deathbringer... not any more... AND I'M NOT SORRY! [The four corners stop spewing fire and a red light is shown on Annis as he makes his way back up the aisle. Suddenly, the lights drop, plunging the arena into darkness. A few moments later, they rise again, and Deathbringer stands nose to nose with Annis.] SR: Yes! Let's see some heads roll! [The crowd near the aisle are on their feet as Annis lays into Deathbringer with kicks and punches. The two men brawl viciously in the aisle, with Annis taking the upper hand. He rams Deathbringer's head into the steel railings, and then executes a vicious DDT onto the concrete floor. Deathbringer, however, simply gets straight up and rams his shoulder into Annis' gut, driving him backwards into the railings on the other side of the aisle. Annis grimaces in pain, and Deathbringer gets to his feet before clotheslining Annis over the railings and into the front row of the crowd, who scatter as Deathbringer steps over the steel himself. Security pour down the aisle and try to restrain Deathbringer, but have little success. The brawl continues.] TD: Wow! These two are going at it tooth and nail! I don't think I've seen a more intense Deathbringer since his Deathmatch with Dan Kauffman at Ring Wars. SR: Deathbringer is becoming more ruthless again, Dross. He's going to take it to anybody who gets in his way -- Annis, Quigley, Kauffman, anyone. I wouldn't want to be in their shoes. [Security finally drag Annis away from Deathbringer, who steps back into the aisle. He raises his arms to the crowd, who greet him with a big mixed pop. He slowly lowers his arms, and as he does so, the lights drop. A few seconds later, the lights flicker back into life, but Deathbringer has disappeared. Cut to the announcers' table.] TD: I think we're seeing the beginnings of a very heated -- no pun intended -- rivalry between Deathbringer and Serge Annis here tonight. SR: I just hope Annis knows what he's letting himself in for. TD: Well, we didn't even get to see a match there, folks, but we certainly will now, as two recent newcomers go at it in the ring. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Dirt Dog Unique Allah vs. American Patriot -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= TD: We're about to see a great matchup of contrasting styles. Dirt Dog Unique Allah is about to take to the ring to face the big man from San Diego, and the heart and soul of our country, the American Patriot. SR: Thanks for that tear-jerking introduction, Dross. The American Patriot certainly is a big man, but he never seems to go anywhere with his size. He's had nothing but trouble here in the IIWF when it comes to finishing off opponents. TD: Allah is a... SR: He's an artist. Got his degree in alcohol intake administration from the University of Grenada. ["Snakes" by Ol' Dirty Bastard begins to echo throughout the Coliseum.] RA: This matchup is scheduled for one fall! Making his way down the aisle, accompanied by Medusa Rage, and weighing 238 pounds... from Brooklyn, New York, here is Unique Dirt Dog Allah! [Allah is greeted by a moderate heel pop from the crowd. The lovely Medusa Rage, a striking six-footer, leads him to the ring. The Dirt Dog is sporting gold fangs in his mouth, and is carrying a whiskey bottle. He stops to jaw with a fan near the middle of the aisle, and has to be redirected by Medusa. He enters the ring and holds up the bottle.] TD: This guy is certainly unique, Soundbite. SR: He's a drunk, but I have to admit that he's real tough in that ring. I think the Patriot just may shoot a blank here tonight, Timbo. RA: And his opponent... hailing from San Diego, California, at 6'11" and 285 pounds, The American Patriot! [The John Phillip Sousa anthem, "Stars and Stripes Forever", arouses a massive pop from the crowd. The Patriot waits a couple of seconds to soak up the ovation, then jogs down to the ring.] SR: Why is he running? He knows that Allah is going to be waiting for him when he gets there. [The Patriot climbs the stairs and makes his way into the ring. Dirt Dog runs right by the referee and begins his attack. The bell sounds and Sparkplug Lee heads for higher ground. Allah works the Patriot over with right hands and then throws him off the apron to the floor. He tries to follow up with a double axe handle off the apron, but the Patriot hits Allah on the fly with elbow to the stomach! Allah, doubled over, has no way of defending himself, and the Patriot rocks him with a DDT on the floor. Massive pop!] TD: The Unique one sure got the jump on him, Steve, but the mighty Patriot has gotten the upper hand, and Allah is in trouble. SR: Hey, Allah, does this guy like practice Islam? TD: I'm impressed at your knowledge of world religions, Steve. But, I honestly do not know what he is. SR: He's a drunk, remember? TD: Once again your insight dazzles me. [As the two announcers ignore the match, the Patriot has stepped back into the ring and is listening to the referee's count on the fallen Allah. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - Allah gets back in and shoulders the Patriot through the ropes. He keeps on the offensive with a sunset flip over the top... but the Patriot grabs the top rope and stays on top! He begins hammering on the bridge of Allah's nose, as the crowd counts out the tally... "1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -5". The referee calls for a break and the Patriot obliges, snapping Allah up and sending him to the ropes. The American rocks him with a dropkick. He quickly drops on top - 1- 2 - kickout.] TD: The charged up Patriot comes out on fire here, and he scores the first two count of the match. Can he keep it up? [The Patriot bounces to the ropes and meets a stunned Allah with a clothesline. The crowd pops as Allah stumbles backward and falls through the ropes to the floor. Medusa Rage runs to help her man out, and the American Patriot begins slapping the turnbuckle, starting a chant of "U - S - A, U - S - A!" from the crowd.] SR: The IIWF, fun for the whole family! [Allah enters the ring and circles his opponent, redoubling his efforts. Allah charges in, but the Patriot takes him down with a drop toe hold. He immediately goes to a full nelson.] TD: Technical background shining through here as the big man is all over Allah. SR: The Patriot is only about nine inches taller -- or in this case, longer -- than the Dog. [The Patriot rolls Allah on his back - 1 - 2 - Allah gets a shoulder up. Allah begins moving his hands around back behind his head until they finally meet the eyeball of the Patriot. The crowd boos the Dirt Dog. Allah bounces off the rope and takes the Patriot down with a cross body block. 1 - 2 - kickout by the Patriot. Allah snaps him up by the hair and executes a small package... 1 - 2 - kickout again. The Dirt Dog catches the Patriot on his way back to his feet with an abdominal stretch, and begins to cinch up on it.] TD: Allah has finally gotten things under control, and it looks as if the big man is about to falter here. [The Unique one maneuvers around the referee and grabs the ropes, gaining leverage. Despite the urgings of the crowd, the referee does not look over to the ropes. Allah releases the rope, and rocks the Patriot back into a pinning predicament... 1 - 2 - kickout. Allah slaps the mat and begins complaining about a slow count.] TD: Perhaps a bit of frustration being shown by Brooklyn's soak. SR: Hey! Don't say things like that. TD: Sorry, it was poor of me to insult Allah that way. SR: No, I meant Brooklyn. They've got plenty of good soaks; don't think that this guy is their best. [Allah executes a tilt-a-whirl suplex and heads slowly to the outside. He staggers to the top rope and waits for the Patriot to get back on his feet. As the Patriot looks up, Allah launches himself with a flying body press... but is caught in midair by the American Patriot! The crowd pops as the hero executes a huge running powerslam upon Allah! Cover - 1 - 2 - kickout! The Patriot clotheslines the stunned Allah and once again covers - 1 - 2 - kickout!] TD: Both men refusing to say die, Steve. SR: [yawning] I wish one of them would die. [The American Patriot begins motioning to the crowd for the Patriot Missile. As the crowd stirs, Medusa, jumps on the apron behind Allah and tries to get the referee to do something. The Patriot bounces off the ropes and zeroes in on the lush. Cameras flash and fans roar as the Patriot flies across the ring with the flying clothesline, but Allah ducks at the last moment. The Patriot careens past Allah and into Medusa Rage, sending her flying off the apron to the floor.] TD: Oh, and they knocked heads... disqualify Allah! SR: Poor Medusa, maybe I should check on her... [Allah crawls over to the apparently unconscious Patriot. He drapes an arm across his chest, and the referee drops into position: 1 - 2 - 3! Heel pop!] SR: A good win for Medusa, er... Dirt Dog Unique Allah. RA: The winner of the match, Dirt Dog Unique Allah! [Allah leaves the ring and attends to his fallen manager. The Patriot asks the referee what happened, despondent. Allah picks up Rage and carries her with him to the locker room, being jeered all the way.] TD: Before we get up to the ring for our next match, folks, let's talk about the bizarre Cheshire. You will remember that Cheshire was scouted by Doctor Hinterhalt, personal trainer of fellow German, Otto "the Butcher" Verhoeven, in midweek. It appears that some form of alliance is on the cards -- let's go to this footage: [Cut to footage subtitled, "Yesterday." The camera pans over a large apartment with a high ceiling and sparse furnishing. A bed with "Spiderman" bedclothes stands in the far left corner, a small kitchen area is on the right. A poster of the Cyberminotaur from DOOM hangs between the large window and a brand-new personal computer. The wide space between this few furniture is occupied by various pieces of gymnastic apparatus like parallel bars, punching bags and the like. The floor is littered with comic magazines of all kinds and even some toys like He-Man puppets and a Super-Soaker. Otto "the Butcher" Verhoeven, Nurse Heidi and Doctor Hinterhalt, all wearing street clothes, stand in the middle of the chaos. Verhoeven has an angered expression on his face.] OV: Hinterhalt, why should we come to here? NH: Vat is this place, anyvay? DH: Please, Herr Verhoeven, patience. I want you to meet someone who lives here, someone who can prove to be extremly useful for us in the future. OV: Who should I... [Suddenly a panicked miaow sounds from an adjoining room and a Siamese cat comes running out of the door, passing the three. Cheshire, wearing neon-green gym trousers and a "Do-the Bartman"-T-Shirt, chases after it, giggling, as always.] C: Come here, Alice. Hehehe. It's time for your bath and you know there's no way to get around it, so come here. Hehe. Oh, hello together. [He continues running after the cat, which hides under the bed.] OV: You cannot be serious, Hinterhalt. The looney? You want to manage the looney? [They wordlessly watch the maniac crawling half way under the bed, cursing and soothing the cat.] DH: I will take care of him, Herr Verhoeven. He has a lot of untapped potential, and with my help he may very well become the next GERMAN cruiserweight champion. [Cheshire comes out from under the bed, holding the cat with his right hand, seemingly not noticing that it scratches his arm like mad] C: Yeah, listen to that man, Butch. He's the Doc, he ought to know what he's talking about. Hehe. He. OV: Hmm, okay, Doctor, do as you like. I could use some more backup. Damn, Quigley won't leave me alone... C: That damn Quigley won't leave you alone in a hundred years, Butch. But with me as a partner standing by your side, he'll soon realize, that he can't stand a chance against a German athlete, be he a cruiserweight or a heavy heavyweight. Hehehe. OV: Alright, alright, Heidi, let's go, we have to prepare for Harlequin "I-am-a-Tragedy". C: That guy is really a tragedy. Hihihi. Man, his sense of humor is even worse than yours. And by the way... OH NO! ALICE! [he notices the small streams of blood running down his forearm and onto his trousers, leaving dark brown stains. He drops the cat to the floor, and it runs back under the bed] You little rascal! No sardines for you this evening! And forget the carrot juice, too! [He grabs a pink handkerchief out of thin air, grins, and bandages his arm with it.] NH: [to Otto] Vat a vacko, he is as mad as...as...I don't know. OV: Whatever, we have to return to the gym. [Otto leaves, Heidi follows him quickly, suspiciously watching Cheshire, who stands grinning behind the doctor. When the door closes, Cheshire lays his arm around Hinterhalt's left shoulder and rests his head on the doctor's right.] C: [sighs] Wow, that must be love... DH: [standing completely motionless] I did not notice Herr Verhoeven showing the slightest sympathy for you. C: I'm not talking about the beast, dully, but of the beauty who just glided out of that door. [sighs] Did you see the look she gave me? Hehehe. Man, she's crazy about me! DH: I am sure you are misinterpreting something. Beside that, there is a stipulation in your contract which says that you must not take any actions that may be seen as insinuating something towards Herr Verhoeven's valet, Heidi. C: Awww, come on. You're kidding me. A contract cannot deny a man's feelings! DH: I'm afraid it can. But it also offers a lot of advantages. You will be allowed to use the same high-tech equipment that stands to Herr Verhoeven's disposal. Furthermore your payment will be twice as high as it is now, and... C: Will I get my own car? DH: [hesitant] Y...yes. After a certain ... C: I want a Corvette. Hehehe. A red one. Hehe! With flames on the hood and the doors. And... DH: The car will be a kind of bonus, if you really show to be as promising as you seem. C: [his eyes narrow] Sooo, I have to prove myself worthy of getting that car, eh? Hehehe, I hope the Cruiserweight Champion title will be enough to satisfy "Your Highness". DH: [ignoring the sarcastic remark] It is absolutely possible for you to get that title. I'm going to make some tests later to determine your strengths and abilities. But first I want to show you our sport facilities. If you want to follow me. [He heads for the door. Cheshire grabs a trench coat from the wardrobe and follows him.] C: You know, Doc, there's just one thing that bothers me. DH: [already in the staircase] What? C: Your stern expression! I'll hate looking at that face all the time. Why don't you smile a bit? [He closes the door from the outside. Their voices fade as they descend the stairs] DH: I see no reason in smiling. It distracts me from my work. C: Hey Doc, look at that. Bweeep. Hey come on, Doc. That was one of my best grimaces... [Cut back to ringside.] TD: Well, what do you make of that, Steve? SR: Hinterhalt is making a big mistake. Cheshire is way out there. Okay, so the guy's athletic, but he's several beers short of a six-pack. TD: I'm not sure that Cheshire is quite as wacky as he appears, but that will all become evident with time. Right now, let's get back up to the ring for our next match. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Armed Forces vs. G.W.R. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= TD: It seems these two teams have been at each other's throats forever. The Forces and their manager Aaron the Caddy have been questioning General Kane's military status, and now their men meet to settle the issue once and for all. SR: Personally I just want to see the brawl that's going to happen when these two teams bump heads. There's a lot of bad blood between them, and hopefully some will spill! TD: Let's get up to Sparkplug in the ring. [The camera pans up to the ring, where Sparkplug Lee is standing by, holding his note cards.] RA: The following match is set for one fall and is a special tag team grudge match. Introducing first, led to the ring by General Kane. At a total combined weight of 545 pounds, here are Spoiler and Loco... G.W.R.! [A mixed pop goes up as "Steam" plays over the speakers. Spoiler and Loco are similiar looking, with short hair and blue eyes. Spoiler is leaner and slightly taller. Loco is the chubbier one of the two. Leading them to the ring is General Kane, attired in a black suit. Behind them is a masked figure looking to be a new bodyguard. He looks to be around 250 pounds, and not too muscular but more fat. The fans lean against the guard rails trying to get a better look, but he is not easy to place. As Kane and the bodyguard take their place at ringside, G.W.R. climb inside the ring.] SR: What's with the bodyguard, Dross? TD: I have no idea. I suppose he's here for protection. SR: I wonder who it is... Probably some reject they found tied up on the train tracks. RA: And their opponents, from Omaha, Nebraska, led to the ring by Aaron the Caddy, they weigh in at a total combined weight of 643 pounds, here are NavCom and DefCom... The Armed Forces! [As a mix of machine gun noises and ambulence sirens are heard from the loudspeaker, the Forces make their appearence. Nav wears green tights and a naval commander's hat. He has brown hair, similiar to his partners dark slicked back hair. Def wears black trunks and an army hat. Following them is Aaron the Caddy, carring his trademark gold bag full of clubs to the ring. As he takes his place at ringside, he mocks General Kane. Nav and Def climb into the ring, squaring off toe to toe with G.W.R. Nav starts off with Spoiler, and runs at him with a clothsline that stuns the smaller guy. Catching him off guard, he is able to flatten him with a DDT.] TD: The Forces with an early attack. Spoiler is being dragged to the neutral corner, and look at him get worked over! Punches to the chops from NavCom. SR: This is a good plan, work him over away from his partner. We're going to see just why the Forces have held the tag gold before in this match. [NavCom backdrops Spoiler out of the corner, and charges at him with a punch, followed by a European uppercut. Spoiler fires back with a European uppercut of his own. NavCom reaches to lock in an abdominal stretch, but Spoiler manages to catch him with a side Russian legsweep. Spoiler quickly drags his opponent back, and hits him with a hurricanrana. Spoiler begins walking over to his corner, but he is pulled down by the ankles from Nav who locks him in a legcross submission. Nav reaches up to his corner while keeping Spoiler down and tags in DefCon. Def comes in and drags Spoiler to his feet, and bodyslams the smaller man, then drops an elbow. Seeming casual and almost cocky, he piledrives Spoiler to the canvas. With a smile, he wraps a hand around the throat of his foe, and chokeslams him to the mat again. Def walks back to his corner and NavCom once again comes in.] TD: Quick tags and cutting off the ring; classic stuff from the Armed Forces. And look at Aaron the Caddy on the outside, gloating. That masked bodyguard has been restraining General Kane. SR: Wouldn't that be something, two managers going at it! Imagine, Aaron would just whack Kane over the head with a club. Fore! [chuckles] TD: That's not a good idea, Steve. Let the _wrestlers_ settle this feud, not the out-of-shape managers. [NavCom grabs Spoiler and hits a snap suplex, sending his opponent onto the mat, clutching his back. Nav drops a knee across the throat, and then an elbow to the midriff. The naval man Irish whips his traintrack foe into the ropes, and sidesteps him with a single leg takedown into a chinlock. After several seconds with no submission, he drops the hold. Nav knocks his opponent with a hard right, stunning him, and then makes a calculated move to the top rope. Once there, he balances, before leaping with double ax handle smash. The brunt of the blow knocks Spoiler dizzy to the mat.] SR: A well planned aerial move that pays off. We expect nothing less from NavCom. Spoiler is getting worked over bad, and if it weren't for his strong endurance he might be done for. TD: That's true. But he needs to make the tag, or he may not survive. SR: Loco seems restless outside. He might just live up to his name and go crazy. TD: His name? I believe it's Loco as in "locomotive" and not Loco as in crazy. SR: Maybe. But just look at him. It's in the eyes, Dross. [Nav walks out to his corner, and tags in DefCon once more. Def walks in, and chops Spoiler with a reverse knife edge chop that sends the smaller man down. He then drops a leg across the throat. Def brings the weary man up and whips him into the ropes, catching him with a spinebuster on the return. Def kicks at the fallen body with vicious stomps, and then punches the ribcage area as Spoiler battles to his feet. After a wicked body shot, Spoiler falls back, but right into his corner. He reaches out as he goes down and makes a blind tag to Loco. The crowd gives a nice response, and Loco is immidiately into the ring and in Def's face with punches and kicks. He wraps the slightly larger man with a bear hug, and takes him down with a belly-to-belly suplex. With his opponent grounded, Loco latches onto his dazed opponent with a full nelson. As Def fights to his feet trying to reverse it, Loco tightens his grip.] TD: The tide has changed with one tag. Def is caught in the ring, and Loco is fresh. Not a good sign. SR: I suppose. But hey, look at Aaron on the outside. [Despite his men losing ground, Aaron has a smug grin. He grabs one club from his bag and walks over to General Kane in the opposite corner. Aaron yells out several chiding remarks, but the masked bodyguard intervenes. Aaron shrugs the large man off, and pokes him in the chest with his club. The bodyguard squares up to the manager, and wraps his hand around Aaron's throat, lifting him up. In the ring, DefCon sees this. His blood boiling, he wrenches his arms down, breaking the full nelson. With a rage of fury, he heads to the outside and sneaks up on Kane and the bodyguard from behind. Def grabs hold of the fallen club, and rears back with a baseball swing. Crack! The metal club cracks over the back of the bodyguard and Aaron drops to the floor, out of breath and half-fainted from fright. Loco heads to the outside as well, and rains down punches as he and Def trade fists. NavCom and Spoiler leave the ring apron and help their partners. Kane and the bodyguard are caught in the crossfire, and in the melee the masked bodyguard manages to stomp on Aaron who is down and woozy.] TD: Look at this! We need some help out here! SR: The ref's giving them the count. He's up to five already. Somebody get back into the ring! [As the referee's count reaches five, DefCon slams Spoiler into the ringpost. A few feet away Loco suplexs Nav on the floor. The referee reaches ten, and calls for the bell. It rings repeatedly, but the wrestlers don't heed it. Loco charges Def from behind and the two brawl onto the ground on their backs. Nav and Spoiler jump on top of the pile in a war of punches and kicks. Officials and security swarm to the ring attempt attemtping to separate the brawl. Eventually, the officials are able to pry the foes away from each other. General Kane and the masked bodyguard leave with G.W.R. first, and shortly afterwards, Nav and Def help Aaron the Caddy up to his feet and lead him to the back. The crowd reaction is mixed, some cheering the brawl and others booing the participants.] RA: Ladies and gentleman, the referee has counted both teams out. Therefore, this match has been ruled a double countout! TD: I'm not sure I really expected this match to settle things between these two teams, but there's certainly no end in sight for the moment. These men will meet again, and when they do... SR: [interrupting] ...expect a war. This thing ain't over by a long shot. TD: Indeed. We'll try to get an update on Aaron's condition, and discover the bodyguard's identity, before we go off the air tonight. For now, however, we must move on to our next match. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "Enigma" Takezo Musashi vs. "Badboy" Randy Acorn =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- TD: Next up we have what should prove to be a fantastic cruiserweight match. "Badboy" Randy Acorn will be in action against Cruiserweight Champion "Enigma" Tazeko Musashi in a non-title affair. SR: What? Mushi-mashi is too chicken to put up the title. Okay, so he just won it at Snow Brawl, but come on -- why shouldn't it be for the belt? TD: Acorn _is_ just returning to the IIWF after a short leave. And besides, the workings of the IIWF's Championship Committee very often defy explanation. SR: Excuses, excuses. The "Enema" should have been a man and put the title on the line. TD: Be that as it may, let's get up to the ring and Sparkplug Lee for the introductions. [The camera shifts up to the ring where Sparkplug Lee holds the house microphone, ready to to begin. Sparkplug waves to a little kid holding a "Sparkplug's My Hero" poster, and walks over near the ropes to say something. Unfortunately, he trips and gets tangled in the ropes to the crowd's amusement. Sparkplug picks himself up, blushing, and gets back to the middle of the ring for the intros.] RA: The following contest is set for one fall and is a non-title match. Introducing first, from Newark, New Jersey, standing six feet three and weighing in at 227 pounds..."Badboy" Randy Acorn. [A medium heel pop goes up as "Hit 'Em Up" by 2Pac plays over the loudspeaker. Soon, it dies down as Acorn isn't appearing. There is a confused murmer from the crowd, who are on their feet scanning the arena trying to see what's going on. Sparkplug Lee turns to the referee with a puzzled look, who just shrugs.] TD: What's going on? Where the heck is Acorn?! SR: Maybe he's suffering from food posioning from the low-class food at the IIWF Cafateria. Their food looks more unrealistic then your hair piece. TD: Can we leave my hair out of this for one night? It appears they're going through with the rest of the introductions, sans "Badboy". RA: And his opponent, the reigning IIWF Cruiserweight Champion. From Tokyo Japan, at five feet nine, 211 pounds..."The Enigma" Tazeko Musashi. [As the Enigma's mystical cosmic style music plays, the crowd gives a steady pop. Tazeko appears at the head of the aisle, wearing his usual pants covered in blue, silver, and grey symbols. He has silver and blue stars face painted around his eyes, his usual look. As he makes his way to the ring, the pop finally dies down.] TD: The Cruiserweight champion is here. But still no Randy Acorn. What's wrong with this picture? SR: Maybe Acorn was fed-up that it's non title. Hey, who's_that? [Suddenly, there is a commontion near the head of the aisle. Out walks a man dressed in a doctor's coat, complete with stethoscope. He has a scraggly-looking beard, which seems to be lighter than his slicked back hair. The man enters the ring and is promptly questioned by the ref. The man simply points to his stethoscope and then to the Enigma.] TD: Now what's _this_ all about?! SR: Simple, Dross. The officials in the back sent out this doctor to stall while they scavenge for Acorn. Stalling because they made a boo-boo. TD: I could have sworn I saw Acorn in the back earlier. SR: Guess again. [The man puts his stethoscope to Musashi's chest, and listens for a few moments. Tazeko has a questionable look, but he simply stands there letting the "doctor" check him out. The man finally turns away from him, and appears to be pondering something. Suddenly, he turns around and in one swift motion knocks Tazeko down with a roundhouse punch! The crowd is in shock. The man rips off his beard, revealing a fake, and takes off the lab coat revealing wrestling shorts.] TD: It's Acorn! This was just another one of his charades. SR: I knew it all along. I just didn't want to ruin the surprise for you, Dross. TD: Sure, Steve. I can't believe we've fallen for Randy's disguises yet again. [The bell rings, but it's a little late as Acorn is already putting the boots to Mushasi with kicks to the rib cage of the fallen Cruiserweight champ. Tazeko fights to his feet, but is taken aback by several clubbing forearm shots, and a European uppercut. Randy waits for his opponent to clear the cobwebs, and locks in a bear hug. With a quick motion, he executes a belly to belly suplex, and rises to his feet smirking.] SR: Hah, the Badboy's using that surprise attack to start a heck of an offense. Look at The Enema, flat on his back -- just where he feels right at home. TD: Acorn's treacheries have got things rolling, but when Tazeko's back on his feet, will the Badboy still stand such a chance? I doubt it. [Randy gives a sharp kick to the sternum doubling over the Enigma. Hooking a frontface lock, he takes him down with a swinging neckbreaker. Musashi lands on his back, holding his neck in pain, but Acorn doesn't relent. He rolls Tazeko over to his stomach, and drops a knee across the back of the neck. Still in control, "Badboy" brings up his foe once more, and doubles him over inbetween his legs. Acorn uses his slight weight advantage to lift him up in a piledriver, doing further damage to the neck.] SR: Smart moves here by Acorn -- work over the champ and wear him down. Then kick his butt. TD: Maybe a smarter strategy would be to work over the legs of the "Enigma" and stop him from using his aerial attack. SR: A good strategy, conceived by Tim Dross? Miracles of miracles. [Acorn keeps the pressure on with a legsweep which he follows with a sharp elbowdrop. After a stomp to the head, Randy decides to head to the outside. He waits on the ring apron as Tazeko slowly gets back to his feet. As he does, "Badboy" decides to go topside. He slingshots onto the ropes, and nails Musashi in the jaw with a springboard dropkick. Both men take some of the brunt of the blow, and are slow to get up. Randy is the first to do so, and Irish whips "Enigma" into the ropes. On the rebound he lifts one knee, catching Tazeko in the sternum, flipping him over crashing to the mat, clutching at his stomach. Acorn grabs his opponent by the legs, and waits. At first he starts to hook in the Newark Knife, but he stops. Instead, he uses a slingshot move to catapult Musashi into the corner. Tazeko gets a little too high on the slingshot, and misses most of the corner, instead tumbling over it to the floor with a thud. The crowd gasps as he wearily moves, trying to get up. The "Badboy" sees this, and walks towards the ropes, grabs a hold of them, and catapults himself to the ground with a flying cross body/punch. Acorn rams Tazeko's back into the ring apron, and rolls him back in. He follows suit himself.] TD: That was a hard bump he took on the floor. I wonder if Musashi can continue? SR: He'd better, or Acorn will cripple him. They don't call him "Badboy" for nothing, ya know. [Acorn keeps his momentum going, hooking a waistlock from behind before executing a nice German suplex for the pin - 1 - kickout. Randy seems ticked that he didn't get the three count, and takes it out on his opponent with a hard enzuigiri kick to the back of the head. "Badboy" doesn't bother with the cover, instead dragging his opponent back up for a powerbomb. Acorn gets him up, but at the last second Tazeko pulls out a frankensteiner reversal. The "Engima" is quick back up, and Irish whips Randy into the corner hard, following in with a handspring into an elbowsmash in the corner.] TD: What a reversal! A shifting of the tides, out of nowhere! SR: Lucky break. Just wait, Randy'll get the Enema down and put him out soon enough. TD: I wouldn't be so sure, Steve. [Musashi catches Acorn's foot, spins him around. Randy stops himself, but walks straight into a reverse savate kick. Crowd pop. The Badboy is laid out near the corner, and Tazeko signals to the crowd. He walks to the outside, and begins climing the ropes for the Starsault press, when he is distracted by a figure making his way down to the ring, Cheshire. The odd figure is juggling five red balls, and giggling hysterically. As he makes his way around the ring, Tazeko climbs back into the ring. He grabs Acorn, and sends him down with a powerful back suplex. The Enigma now turns his attention to the clown, looking out at him from the ring.] SR: Cheshire? What does this oddball want?! And why in the world is the clown juggling? This seems weird. TD: I truly have no clue on what Cheshire is thinking. He's a bit out there. And by having Dr. Hinterhalt, Verhoeven's trainer, to manage him just proves it. He does seem to have Tazeko rather distracted. [Suddenly, Cheshire heaves one of the balls straight for Musashi's head. The Enigma's reflexes are good enough to dodge, but the ball grazes him and sends him staggering to the mat. The four other balls are sent flying into the crowd, seen as only bouncing rubber balls. The one that was thrown is now clearly visible as a billiard ball. Seeing this action, the referee immidiately calls for the bell.] RA: The winner of the match as result of a disqualification, "Enigma" Tazeko Musashi. [There is a good pop for the announcement of the victor, but it soon dies down as Cheshire continues with his oddball antics. He grabs a microphone in one hand, and walks into the ring. He applies the Humorizer on the fallen Musashi with one hand, and begins speaking into the microphone. The camera is able to pick his words up:] CHESHIRE: I know there are more polite ways to challenge someone, hehehe, but I wanted to make sure that I have your full attention Takkie. Well, now, THIS IS A CHALLENGE. And you will decide here and now if you accept it. Just cough one time to say "no" and I tear out your jaw. Hehehe. Or you cough two times to say "yes" and postpone your execution. Well, it's your choice, Takkie, what do you say? [Tazeko coughs twice into the microphone, accepting the challenge. Smiling broader than his "Alice and Wonderland" namesake, he simply walks out of the arena smiling big and high fiving the fans who still want to after his unusual tactics. Several officials come down to help the Cruiserweight champ back to the locker rooms. As they do, Musashi gets a huge pop from the fans. Meanwhile, Acorn is beside himself in the ring. After kicking at the bottom ropes and beating his fists on the turnbuckles, he leaves, taunting several fans on his way to the back.] TD: What a strange turn of events -- Cheshire in an odd challenge, and Tazeko accepted. SR: Probably so he wouldn't get his jaw pulled out right here and now. Just postponing it, as Cheshire said. TD: In any event, it seems Acorn is pushed further from receiving his shot, while Cheshire is maybe closer to getting one. A disqualification win for the Enigma, here live on Saturday night. Up next, we're going to see one of the IIWF's most promising newcomers do battle with the dangerous "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder. Let's hear from the "Real Deal" Luke Steele now: [Cut live to a hallway in the IIWF Coliseum, where Luke Steele is preparing for his match. He is doing deep knee bends and stretching. Steele is uncharacteristically jumpy, as this is his first IIWF match.] LS: Oh, hey there, guys and gals. I did it, I made it to the IIWF and I'm all set to make my grand entrance. I've waited for this for a long time, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna screw it up. Brody Thunder, you're my first opponent in the IIWF... I hope you brought your swim trunks, 'cause I'm gonna make a splash on the league tonight, baby doll. It's time for the "Real Deal" to prove he's a real competitor. Later. [Cut back to ringside.] =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "Real Deal" Luke Steele vs. "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= TD: The fans here at the IIWF Coliseum are wired for action, and they're about to get it, Steve, as the "Real Deal" Luke Steele is about to make his Saturday Night debut right here! SR: Do I really have to remind everybody that he won his contract at Snow Brawl by defeating his brother, J. P. Steele? TD: It wasn't his brother, and yes, you do what the producer tells you. In any case, Luke Steele is about to wrestle his first match since winning his contract against Brody Thunder... SR: I don't know about this upcoming match, a dangerous situation for both men here. Thunder just took a beating three days ago courtesy of the Syndicate, so whether or not he is 100% could be a question. But on the other hand, Steele could also run into trouble with an emotional letdown. After a huge win like the one he picked up at Snow Brawl, it can be tough to focus on another match, one of lesser magnitude. If Steele doesn't focus on Brody Thunder, well, Dross... TD: Yeah, I know, Thunder will kill him. SR: Exactly. And you know which way I'm rooting for this match to go. [The theme from "High Plains Drifter" starts up. The spotlight encircles the arena and then centers on the cheesy smile of Sparkplug Lee in the ring, looking dashing as usual.] RA: The following contest here on IIWF Saturday Night is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Tombstone, Arizona and weighing in at 267 pounds... the man known as the "Lone Wolf", Brody Thunder! [Brody Thunder makes his way down to the ring, all business in his mannerisms. The look on his face makes Sparkplug take a step back as the Lone Wolf marches straight up the ring steps and into the ring. He could care less that the fans are there, apparently.] SR: Brody Thunder. An intense competitor, Tim Dross. TD: Here is a man who's angry, and fighting for one reason - to show up the Syndicate. I think he's redoubled his intensity, and that means trouble for young Luke Steele. SR: Look at that blank, cold gaze. It's enough to make you cry. TD: Enough to make you cry? I don't know about that. His blank, cold fist, maybe... SR: I didn't mean enough to make _me_ cry, Dross. I meant enough to make a wimp like _you_ cry. RA: And his opponent... ["Black Cat" by Janet Jackson blares over the loudspeaker. The crowd immediately jumps to its feet, cheering loudly. Lee's voice can barely be heard over the PA system.] RA: At 275 pounds, the newest member of the IIWF... hailing from Cleveland, Ohio, ladies and gentlemen, here is... the "Real Deal"... Luke Steele!!! [Suddenly the lights go out and silver-tinted spotlights begin to circle the arena. A white triangle appears on the floor of the aisle, and the confident youngster appears within it to a massive pop. Steele makes his way to the ring, high fiving fans all the way, the triangle following him. Upon his arrival to the ring, Brody Thunder steps through the ropes to the outside, wanting nothing to do with the fan fare. Steele grabs the ropes and does a slingshot somersault to enter the ring. Fireworks begin to fly from the four turnbuckles, and Steele stands near the ropes, working the crowd. Pop!] TD: What an ovation for Luke Steele! What an entrance! SR: Huh? I can't hear you, too much noise... TD: Huh? [The lights come back on as the fireworks die out. Thunder reluctantly re-enters the ring as Luke Steele removes his red vest. He circles the Lone Wolf, and they lock up collar-and-elbow.] SR: Here we go, Tim, let's see if he can prove himself worthy of this recent contract. What were the terms of that contract anyway? TD: I'm not given that kind of information. SR: Well, he'd better not be making more than I am, Dross. That Spreadbury is tighter than... TD: [interrupting] Hang on... The producer is telling me that somebody is up in the rafters of the Coliseum. We're getting a camera up there... [The camera cuts to the rafters of the arena. A figure stands on one of the walkways that runs around the roof for the technicians to work on the rigging.] SR: Who is that? TD: It's... "Sychosys" Joe Petrow! I had no idea Petrow was even in the area. I guess he must be out here scouting Brody Thunder. I spoke with the "Lone Wolf" earlier tonight, and he doesn't know how Petrow could say that he knows Thunder at all... SR: Petrow's a bit of a freak, Dross. Who can tell what his plans for Thunder are? TD: Well, for now, Thunder had better be more concerned with what Steele's plans are. [Cut back to the ring. Thunder raises a knee to Steele midsection. As Steele keels over in agony, he is able to grab Thunder's lower leg and execute a single leg takedown. Thunder rebounds quickly and is back on his feet.] TD: Luke Steele scores the first point. [Thunder charges in, but lays off, psyching out the youngster. Luke Steele just shrugs it off and they again lock up, this time to the advantage of the Real Deal, who goes behind and gets a hammerlock. Thunder winces in pain, but is able to land a solid elbow to the jaw of the taller Steele. Stunned, Steele falls to the mat, holding his mouth. Brody Thunder wastes no time and jumps on him with a headlock. Thunder rocks his weight, pinning Steele's shoulders to the mat - 1 - 2 - Steele rolls back up. As Thunder tries to cinch up on it again, Luke grabs his leg and rolls him into a pinning predicament, but Thunder gets his foot on the middle rope, and the referee calls for the break. Thunder carefully gets back to his feet and then nails the Real Deal with a vicious short clothesline. Heel pop!] SR: A rookie mistake by Steele, trusting the cagey veteran. Don't trust anybody in this sport, you got me, Dross? TD: Well, one match which was _filled_ with trust and mutual respect was definitely the one that Luke and J. P. took part in two weeks ago, Steve. I don't think Luke's ever been double-crossed before. SR: Well, trust me on this one, Brody's not above it. TD: You just told me never to trust anybody. SR: Hey, you're learning! [Steele, laid out on his back, becomes the lucky recipient of a big elbow drop by the Wolf. Thunder picks Steele back up and wastes no time in sending him to the ropes. Steele comes off and is taken down by a big back body drop. Cover by Thunder - 1 - 2 - kickout by Steele! Thunder gets back to his feet and stomps Steele. Upon his recovery, Steele is met by yet another clothesline, and he, this time, flies over the top to the outside!] TD: Brody Thunder showing no signs of injury following that beating at the hands of Tiger Claw and company on Wednesday, he's at full speed and cleaning house! [The fans try to encourage Steele to mount some offense, but Thunder discourages it by ramming his head into the steel stairs. The referee's count reaches five, and Thunder throws Steele back into the ring, following him under the bottom rope. Steele is able to rock Thunder in the head, but Brody retalliates with even greater force. A dazed Steele staggers to the ropes, leaning against them for support, and Thunder takes advantage, executing a perfect Fisherman's suplex.] TD: Outstanding suplex by Brody Thunder; he's such an accomplished technician, Steve. SR: Technique is great, Dross, but it takes a lot of work, skill, and training. It's so much easier to just bash him over the head with a foreign object. TD: Yeah, I've watched tapes of your matches. You were pretty good with the ringbell, but not so great with flying headscissors. SR: So many guys today are a triumph of style over substance, Dross. I could still kick the ass of any one of the guys here in the IIWF... if it wasn't for my injury. TD: Of course. [Thunder stands over the fallen Steele and grabs one of his ankles. He begins to step around for a figure-four leglock, but Steele has the presence of mind to reverse it with a small package - 1 - 2 - kickout. The crowd gives a disappointed gasp. Steele gets back to his feet and hits Thunder with a running dropkick, which takes Thunder down. Cover - 1 - kickout! Steele grabs the dazed Wolf by the back of the head and positions him for a piledriver.] SR: If he can hit it, the match will be all over... [Steele easily picks Thunder up and delivers a devastating piledriver. 1 - 2 - another kickout!] TD: Brody Thunder just wants it right now. He wants to show the Syndicate what this is all about. [Steele gets back up and whips Thunder to the rope. Luke lowers his head for a back body drop, but Brody puts on the breaks and lays the youngster out with a neckbreaker. Heel pop! As Steele writhes in pain, Thunder slowly walks to the turnbuckle and stands in front of them, catching his breath. When Luke stands back up, Thunder sprints across the ring and nails him with a clothesline, followed by an elbow drop. Brody picks him up once more and executes a spinning backbreaker. He then stands over his fallen opponent in wait.] TD: Brody Thunder is ready to rock Steele's world with the Thunderbolt... [A massive heel pop arises from the crowd. Thunder, thinking it is for him, quickly snaps up the reeling Steele and begins to execute the Thunderbolt. Suddenly, as Steele is hoisted upon the Lone Wolf's shoulders, Brody realizes that Tiger Claw has appeared in the aisle. Thunder just drops Luke Steele, who comes crashing to the mat, possibly rendered unconscious, and takes off on a dead run down the aisle after Claw, who doesn't budge.] SR: Look out, we've got trouble in the Coliseum! [Thunder attacks Claw, who meets him with a series of kicks to the legs and midsection. Brody, seemingly unphased, grins at Claw and begins hammering away on him, to the chants of "BRO - DY! BRO - DY!" from the crowd. The two men begin rolling on the ground, struggling for the upper hand. The bell sounds. Thunder begins choking the life out of Claw, who has no reinforcements coming from the back.] TD: If the Syndicate shows up, things could get ugly for Brody Thunder. SR: He's holding his own right now! [People do appear from the back, but none of them are in the Syndicate. A team of security guards drag Thunder off Claw, and Claw back pedals his way to the back, not too anxious to get anymore of Brody. Brody heads back up the aisle to an arousing pop from the crowd.] SR: Geez, Thunder got pretty popular there pretty quick. RA: The referee's decision... the winner of the match, as a result of a countout... ["Black Cat" once again blasts over the loudspeaker.] RA: The "Real Deal"...Luke Steele! [Thunder, enraged by the decision, grabs a conveniently placed chair and takes off for the ring. He slides under the rope and heads toward the helpless Steele.] TD: Oh no, this is big trouble for Luke... SR: Call the brother J.P., we just may have a roster opening after this flogging! [Thunder is cut off by the referee. Brody just cocks back his chair, which influences the referee to run for his life. Thunder smacks the chair across the right knee of the rookie. Big heel pop!] SR: Well, looks like ol' Brody's back to normal standing here in the IIWF. [Thunder takes it upon himself to deliver another chair shot before snapping Steele up by the hair, and placing him in the torture rack position. He delivers the Thunderbolt this time, and then goes back to the chair.] TD: Suspend this man! He's threatened a ref, _and_ look at what poor Luke Steele is sustaining here! [A moderate pop greets the Jobber Justice Squad, captained by Ned Norton, which races to the ring and puts an end to the carnage. Thunder willingly steps back through the ropes to the outside, jawing with the jobbers on his way back down the aisle. After he leaves the area, the referee goes back into the ring to tend to Steele.] SR: He's in bad shape, Dross. Brody Thunder just used that kid as an example... a message to the Syndicate and to Tiger Claw -- the man who cost him that match. [Steele is helped out by two referees to a heartfelt ovation.] TD: Luke Steele will live to fight another day, but he just got pounded here tonight... SR: Or will he live to fight again, Dross? I'm not so sure. Why would he want to fight again after this? TD: It's really a shame, Steve, and I have to lay some of the blame on the Syndicate. SR: Oh, don't go blaming poor Brian Lau... TD: Uh huh, sure. If Claw wouldn't have shown up, then Thunder would have pinned Steele in the ring, been happy with his victory, and left quietly. This way, Claw costs Thunder the match, Thunder goes nuts and beats up Luke Steele, and the Syndicate sits in back and laughs. They're despicable. SR: When you put it that way, Dross, I can almost see what you mean. But note that I said, "almost." =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= IIWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= High Plains Drifters vs. Dark Disciples --------------------------------------- [Above the cacaphony of the IIWF Coliseum, a chant, "High Plains Drift-ers! Clap, clap, clap-clap-clap!" quickly gains momentum as Sparkplug Lee enters the ring and takes the mic.] SL: The following contest is set for one fall and is for the IIWF World Tag Team Championship! Introducing first, accompanied down the aisle by Brian Lau and Don McQueen, at a combined weight of 615 lbs., here are Kane and Wulf, the Dark Disciples! [Lau and McQueen lead their hooded charges down the aisle as the druidic chanting rings throughout the IIWF Coliseum. The heel reaction is solid as the camera finds Lau holding up his right index finger, followed closely by McQueen who has aloft two fingers of his right hand.] TD: Their methods are certainly suspect but the worthiness of this title shot is not. The Dark Disciples pounded their way through the tag team battle royal at Snow Brawl to earn this match with the Drifters. SR: This is gonna be an historic night, Dross. The Syndicate is up for two titles and I have a feeling Brian Lau is walking out of here tonight carrying some gold. SL: Their opponents, being led down the aisle by their manager, "The Outlaw" Josey Wales, at a combined weight of 502 lbs, the IIWF tag team champions; Easy Rider, Pale Rider, the High Plains Drifters!! [The Drifters amble down the aisle, sporting not only their title belts but facial hair a few days long of the expected stubble. Easy and Pale confidently hit the ring to a big pop as the bell sounds.] SR: The tempo of the early portion of this match is crucial, Dross. The Drifters can't allow the Dark Disciples to dictate the pace, they've gotta be willing to go after them, to put it on the line. [Kane hops quickly into the ring for the Disciples, fidgeting as the Drifters take their time in the corner apparently discussing who will open the match. As Easy steps out to the apron Kane charges Pale, who slips his head through the ropes causing the official to halt Kane's attack. Pale smirks at the frustrated Kane whose second charge is again rebuffed by the cautious Drifter. Kane turns to glance at Wulf and then whips back around, racing to the Drifters' corner where he is met by a big elbow from the waiting Easy Rider. The champs shake their heads in disdain at the fallen Kane and Pale then enters to lockup with the now risen Disciple. Pale attempts an armdrag takedown but is blocked by the bigger Kane. Pale delivers a quick-backhanded chop to the chest but is then met with a hard shove sending the Drifter to the mat. Pale is up and then down again as he's hit with a knee to the midsection and two quick elbows to the back of the head by Kane. Pale rolls to a neutral corner looking to collect himself as the crowd heel pops for the challengers.] TD: Slow pace from the High Plains Drifters, Steve. Doesn't a methodical match play into the hands of Kane and Wulf? SR: Well, you're learning after all, Dross. The champs are giving up a lot of weight, they've gotta be aggressive if they want to keep these belts. [Pale rises and locks up again with Kane, broken by an Irish whip by the Disciple and then a reversal by Pale who drops down and then snaps to his feet and then to the air, connecting with Kane's jaw with a devastating dropkick. Pale pulls Kane to his feet and whips the larger man who is able to grab the ropes and set himself up for a charge across the ring, Pale ducks the onrush and bodydrops Kane over the top rope and out onto the floor! Big pop! Pale leaps to the top rope, and prepares to go outside, but reconsiders and retreats to his corner to tag in Easy.] SR: Aw, this is a mistake, Dross. The Drifters have to press their advantage, go out on the floor and take care of business. Looks to me like winning the gold has changed their mindset. [Kane circles outside the ring, getting advice from McQueen before getting back in the ring near his corner. Kane looks at the imposing Easy who takes a step back and waves for Wulf to step in and face him. The crowd gives a big pop as Kane tags out and the monstrous Wulf charges into the ring heading right to Easy Rider who doesn't take as much as a backstep, meeting the charge head on and the two big men start throwing rights and lefts, brawling furiously in the middle of the ring. The crowd rises as Wulf breaks the tremendous action with a gouge to the eyes of Easy and then bites down hard on the forehead of the Drifter, causing Easy to fall to the mat. Wulf quickly advances on the fallen Drifter, blood from the champion now trickling from the open mouth of the snarling Wulf; however, the Drifter responds with a big upward thrust of his forearm to the groin of the Disciple, causing Wulf to stagger back into the corner of the Drifters. Pale meets him with a shot to the back. Kane enters, looking to protect his teammate, but is blocked by the official, allowing Easy and Pale to work over the big Disciple in the corner, breaking Wuld down with clubbing forearms. Kane again tries to enter but is halted by the official. The Drifters use this opportunity to wrap up Wulf with the tag rope and Easy to deliver a series of chops to Wulf's exposed neck. Easy then tags in Pale who heads to the top rope as Easy carries the prone Wulf to the middle of the ring.] TD: They're gonna put Wulf away! Pale's going up for the Hang 'em High clothesline! SR: He's taking too much time, Dross, he's thinking too much. [Pale does hesitate as he reaches the top rope, perhaps considering the ramifications should he miss, and then climbs down altogether as the attention of the entire ring is focused on the two men walking down the aisle.] TD: It's Michael Reyna and Danny Dynamite! SR: These two have no business here, Dross. They're just looking to cause trouble for the Dark Disciples. Remember who Kane dumped over the top rope to get this title shot? It was Dynamite --- TD: Is that what...? Danny Dynamite appears to be bringing something to ringside... it's the IIWF Championship Belt! SR: Where's Kauffman? Is Kauffman coming with them? What the hell's going on here? [There's a good face pop as the crowd realizes that the Players' Club has reached ringside, with Dan Kauffman's belt in tow, no less. Reyna and Dynamite establish a place at ringside, away from the managers of the respective teams. Meanwhile, amidst the confusion, Wulf has manged to crawl to his corner and tag in Kane who attacks Pale from behind with a series of vicious kicks. Easy attempts to aid his partner but is prevented by the official who orders Easy out of the ring, recalling that Pale is the legal man following the aborted Hang 'em High attempt. Kane whips Pale to the ropes and then greets his return with a quick lariat, dropping the Drifter. Kane gathers Pale and drops him with a scoop slam, then picks up the Drifter again, whipping him hard into the Disciples' corner. Kane charges the dazed Pale, who is able to slip the blow, leaving Kane to smack hard hard into the buckle, throat first.] SR: Never charge the corner, especially with your neck. TD: Words of wisdom there, folks. [Kane staggers backwards and Pale hops to the midrope, elbow poised, when he is suddenly lifted high into air by the now recovered Wulf and sent crashing beyond the apron right through the Spanish announce table. An enormous heel pop rises up in the arena as Wulf tumbles down into the wreckage with a double axe that does as much damage to himself, as it does Pale, Wulf's head smacking hard onto the concrete floor. Wulf staggers up, trying to get his bearings, he pulls Pale from the remnants of the table and, his feet unsteady beneath him, lifts the Drifter high in the air.] TD: He's going to chokeslam him! Wulf's going to plant Pale outside! SR: He can't do it, Dross. The fall took too much out of him! [As Wulf continues to struggle to keep Pale airborne, Easy races across the ring, past the still injured Kane, attempting to save his partner, again the official stops the charge, turning his back on the action outside. Suddenly, Dynamite races toward the back of Wulf, IIWF Championship belt poised, ready to take a whack at the mighty Disciple. Dynamite rears back and swings... and clocks Pale across the back, as Wulf quickly whirls to face Dynamite, using the Drifter to shield him from the blow! The crowd gasps as Wulf rolls Pale into the ring to a waiting Kane who slumps over the champion's body. The referee makes the count - 1 - 2 - 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: I don't believe it! I don't believe it! Danny Dynamite just hit Pale Rider with the IIWF Championship belt! I can't... I don't... Here's the decision -- SL: The winners of this bout.....and NEW IIWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS: Kane, Wulf, the Dark Disciples! [The official lifts Kane's arm into the air as Wulf collects the IIWF Tag belts from the timekeeper. Dynamite is standing outside the ring, his hands on his hips, disbelieving what has just gone down. He utters expletive after expletive as the shocked fans begin to boo not only the Dark Disciples, but the Players' Club as well. Easy Rider has gotten to the other side of the ring and is now right in the faces of Dynamite and Reyna, demanding to know what is going on. Dynamite attempts to explain the mistake but is met by a shove from the now ex-champ! Reyna responds by taking a shot at Easy and yelling that the Players' Club has nothing to apologize for. The Dark Disciples celebrate in the ring, not only with their newly-won tag belts but with the IIWF Championship belt as well. Brian Lau holds Kauffman's belt in the air and then holds up one finger, followed by McQueen's holding up two fingers. Dynamite and Reyna charge into the ring, snatching the IIWF title belt from Lau, causing Wulf and Kane to jump in front of their manager. Easy hits the ring, pulls his fallen partner to the outside and all five IIWF superstars and all three respective managers are in the ring, shouting charges and countercharges at one another. The "Kauff-man" chant begins to ring through the arena as security jumps into the ring to prevent an all out brawl.] TD: What a volatile situation we have here, folks! Security are going to have a hard time clearing this mess up... but the ring technicians also want to get out here to set up the Steel Cage for our next match tonight... SR: Who cares, Dross? We've got new IIWF World Tag Team Champions -- stage one of the Syndicate's plan is complete, and Brian Lau has the tag team gold! Isn't it ironic how the Players' Club effectively handed the tag belts to the Disciples just a couple of minutes ago, and later tonight, one of their number is going to hand the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship to Casey James! This is great! TD: That's by no means certain, Steve. You have to believe that this incident is only going to make Kauffman and the Players' Club all the more determined to pull the rabbit out of the hat later on tonight. Right now, it's time to go over to Becky LaRue for this week's LaRue's Lair segment. SR: I can't believe Becky actually agreed to have Walnut as her guest. TD: Becky, over to you. [Cut to Becky LaRue in the familiar LaRue's Lair set, set in an enclosure about twenty feet off the aisle and halfway from ringside. She lounges in her comfortable chair, and speaks:] BL: In the past on LaRue's Lair, I've brought you interviews with Dan Kaufman and Chris Quigley. Tonight I complete the trifecta of ego inflated nobodies when I talk with Marty Warnett. [Pop!] Yes, I realize that not long ago I promised an interview with him, but instead delivered a hard hitting, in depth, conversation with Nurse Heidi. Since that time, the IIWF's offices have been buried under an avalanche of complaints from the two thousand world-wide members of the "Marty Warnett Fan Club". Each letter was written in adolescent scrawl with little hearts dotting each "i", drenched in shoplifted perfumes and signed by a "Kelli" or "Jodi" or "Jeni". There was even a very disturbing one from a "David". Even more disturbing was a number of the enclosed photos disappeared, only to reappear in both Larry and Steve's desk drawers. The insanity has got to stop... so here he is: Party Marty Warnett. [Marty peers from behind the curtains, then walks slowly out. He's wearing shades, a bandana, ripped jeans, trainers and a T-Shirt with the motto: "Becky's Buns Taste Great". He then takes Becky's hand and kisses it before sitting down.] BL: Swell, rabies. But I've really got to check my contract with marketing. I can't believe I allowed _that_? MW: The T-Shirt? That's just a little, ahem, product placement for a bakery near where I live. BL: I wouldn't need to advertize. MW: I must say, it's an honour and a pleasure to be interviewed by such an attractive redhead. Even if it is out of the bottle ... BL: [Becky does her best to ignore the remark, but her reply is catty] So, how's the face? MW: I don't know about that, Becks, maybe we should let the people out there decide about my looks ... [Pop from the crowd] but somehow I don't think that was what you meant. Sure, it seems my face, and my head have become a target for those who wanna-be me, [shrugs shoulders] can't all be, huh? BL: To which I give a prayer of thanks daily. Talking of wanna-bes, what is with Chris Quigley's new attitude? Scared? MW: Well, it's difficult to be scared of somebody who sulked and pouted the way he did after that Deathbringer - Quigley - Kauffman stuff. I really don't know what his problem is, if his ego really, really doesn't like me, he knows what to do about it, and where to do it. Then again, I heard those woollen hats his clothing company sells are handknitted by him. BL: Speaking of attitudes, leading up to Snow Brawl we started seeing a new attitude from you. Is this the end of "Party Marty"? MW: Hell, no, where there's music, alcohol and beautiful women, there will always be the Party Maniac in full flow... in fact, starting with this bout against Kowalski, the Party just starts, and you'd better warn the neighbours, it's gonna get rowdy! BL: On the subject of your name, aren't these segues amazing? I bet you've been called "Walnut" ever since you entered school. It bothers you, doesn't it? MW: Gee, let me think about that one ... NO! It's completely unoriginal, Becks, it would be like me calling you, LaPoo. BL: Call me "Becks" again and you'll be fortunate if you can even say THAT. Now then, it seems that you've got more than a few wrestlers looking for you. Are you going to take the Billy Shakespeare tactic and hide behind a bodyguard? MW: Not at all, I take care of business myself. Although I'm sure I could always give Brad Kinder a ring, to guard your body... or even the Peruvian navy. BL: [Distracted in thought] No, I haven't heard from Commander Escobar any more recently than Brad. Oh! Aaaah. Um, just in case you want to go on another window-smashing binge, you don't know which car is mine, do you? MW: Well, it's probably the cheap and tacky one with sweat marks on the back seat. BL: [Becky begins to shred the chaise with her fingernails. Somehow she remains civil.] Without digging into the dark, disgusting, Larry Morton parts of your psyche, you enjoy the cheers of the 14 year-old girls just a _little_ too much, don't you? MW: I enjoy the cheers of all my fans, Becks. They're what drives me on today. As for 14 year-olds, well, some are over 16, y'know! [laughs] Every time I step into that ring, the support of fans here in the IIWF is incredible, and I wouldn't have done some of the things I have done here, but for them ... I owe you guys a lot, and the IC belt will be coming back to the people. BL: [Becky mimes gagging herself with a finger] You used to be "the rookie", but not anymore. Now that title goes to Ronnie Paris. What advice would you give the Widdle Wonnie Paris? MW: To continue with his wrestling style, not to get deflected from his goals, and to continue to learn and improve. BL: Haven't I heard this before? Eat your vitamins... say your prayers...? MW: [ignoring her] You know, early in my career in the IIWF, I went in there with the biggest, and best, Musashi, Verhoeven, and Hardin, to name but three. As a result, my win-loss record took a major dent. Since then, Becks, I've risen up the rankings here in the IIWF, and even been the wrestler responsible for ridding the wrestling world of the Universal Powers -- Lincoln and Franklin sneak attacked me, and ran away before I could even the score. BL: Score! [Becky takes a moment to bite her tongue.] Marts, I'm not interested in you, not denying that you aren't cute in a "Just-smacked-in-the-face-with-a-belt" kind of way, but what would a night out with "Potty Motty" be like? MW: Not interested in me? Heck, I'm male, aren't I? BL: I've heard _that_ claim a hundred times. MW: A night out with Party Marty would be an incredible experience, Becks, but I'm afraid you're just too out of shape to be able to last the pace. BL: Oh, you're right. One episode of "Thomas the Tank Engine" and I'm asleep. Now then, you're facing the "New Jersey Nightmare" for the Intercontinental belt tonight. You don't actually think you have a chance, do you? MW: You're right. I'm going to lose. In fact, I'm going to quit wrestling right now ... OF COURSE I HAVE A CHANCE! And much more than just a chance! This Party Maniac is on fire here in the IIWF, and to imply I need to rely on chance or luck is incredibly silly. Kowalski can brawl, there's no doubt about that. I've proven over my time here I can mix it up in many different styles, I've just got too much to offer. BL: So you honestly believe that you are man enough to wear Tiger Claw's title? MW: Indeed so, Becks. I'm kinda curious about Lau's tactics, though. I mean, Claw seems preoccupied with the Cruiserweight belt, James with Kauffman's dog, those two rejects from an early horror movie steal the tag belts, so who would he send against me? Himself? BL: I've been saving this question for last, knowing that you might feel inclined to hide behind my chair at the mention of his name: Have you finally admitted defeat to Stud Stetson? MW: Not at all. You see, Becks, if I keep fighting Stetson, I'm doing my career, and my fans a great disservice -- I'm a legit contender for whatever belt I put my mind to, and Stetson, well, he's just not up to it. And anybody that starts bragging and giving themselves titles deserves the respect they get. You hear that, Quigley? BL: You have exactly two minutes left. Anything you wanted to say that I didn't ask about? MW: Yeah, I hear Quigley's clothing company caters for the outsized woman, Becks. [whispers in Becky's ear] When I win that IC title, the Party will be in the rock club a couple of blocks away, you're more than welcome to join us, it'll be music, drink, and all the blancmange you can smear over yourself... [He stands, waves to the crowd, blows a few kisses, then exits. The camera cuts to Becky who is furiously scribbling on the back of her hand.] TD: [over the headset] Becky? BL: Just a second Dross. Hey, how do you spell blancmange? [Cut back to the announcers' table.] TD: We'll leave Becky to her doodlings. That was a most... enlightening interview, as always. SR: That Walnut guy really gets up my nose, Dross. TD: I'd noticed. In any case, the Steel Cage has been erected, and we're ready for our next match. Let's get back up to ringside. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- STEEL CAGE MATCH: -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Otto "the Butcher" Verhoeven vs. Harlequin Tragedy -------------------------------------------------- SR: Dross, let me get this straight: that painted fool, Harlegoon Tragedy, is going to be locked in a cage with Otto Verhoeven? TD: That's right, Steve. SR: Okay, let me ask another question: is he an idiot? TD: Harlequin Tragedy is not an idiot, Steve, but I do see where you're going... it's definitely not a good place to be, in a cage with the Butcher. SR: Harlequin is quick, he's scrappy, and his antics are oh, so incredibly entertaining... but when the monster gets his hands on him, what's to happen then? TD: I have a feeling we're about to find out... RA: Ladies and gentlemen, the following encounter is a Steel Cage Match! [Pop!] The match may be won by pinfall, submission, or countout, but there are _no_ disqualifications! Introducing first, at 220 pounds, and accompanied to the ring by Harlequin Comedy... from Sleepy Hollow, Illinois, Harlequin Tragedy! ["My Lover's Box" by Garbage plays. A mixed pop from the crowd awaits the court jester. Harlequin Tragedy, dressed in a unique outfit which is red in one section and blue in another, focuses upon the giant steel cage and slowly makes his way down the aisle, closely followed by the swimsuit-clad Harlequin Comedy.] TD: Harlequin Tragedy making his way to the ring, and this guy looks like a dweeb, I must admit, but he's all business in the ring. SR: And Comedy is looking very nice in that swimsuit. There's nothing comical about her, but back to Tragedy. He's a quick guy, like I said earlier. He'll confuse you, he'll toy with you... and sometimes, he'll beat you. But not if you're Otto Verhoeven. TD: Verhoeven will have to avoid the unorthodoxy of it all and just take Tragedy to school, as we know he is capable of doing. SR: Certainly is -- probably more so than any other IIWF superstar. [The theme from John Carpenter's "Halloween" takes over the arena, and the crowd immediately begins jeering.] RA: And his opponent... at 340 pounds, from Essen, Germany, and accompanied to the ring by the lovely Nurse Heidi... he's a former IIWF World Heavyweight Champion... Otto "The Butcher" Verhoeven! [A beautiful woman, Nurse Heidi, appears in the aisle, leading the 6'8" former boxing champion, Otto Verhoeven, to the ring. Verhoeven is wearing a black singlet; motorcycle gloves cover his massive hands, which he feels compelled to swing at fans. He stops in front of an American flag in the crowd and takes the liberty of trying to take it from the fan. Eventually, Nurse Heidi directs him back toward the ring.] TD: Verhoeven once again terrorizing the fans of the IIWF. SR: He could be terrorizing you, Dross, so be thankful for all these idiots with the flags. TD: Good point, I guess. [The bell sounds, and Harlequin Tragedy immediately rushes in at Verhoeven, nailing him with a drop kick, which has no effect on the Butcher at all.] TD: Well, Tragedy giving up almost a foot, and at least 100 pounds, so this should be a tough match for him. He'll have to find a way to counter all of that size... I don't know what he should try first. SR: I know what I'd do if I was in a match with Otto Verhoeven. TD: What's that? SR: Run. Fast. TD: But only because of your injury, right? SR: No, because I'd have shown Heidi the ropes beforehand, if you know what I mean. [In the ring, Verhoeven has gotten Harlequin Tragedy backed up against the turnbuckle. He uses his weight advantage to hold him there, and nails him with a forearm shot to the face. He tries for another one, but Tragedy ducks under the swing and gets behind Verhoeven. Otto's arm hits the buckle hard, and he is quickly taken down by an inside cradle from Harlequin Tragedy - 1 - 2 - kickout. An angry Verhoeven gets right back to his feet, and attempts a clothesline, but again Tragedy avoids it, and counters with a crucifix - 1 - 2 - kickout. Verhoeven takes a step back to assess the situation.] TD: Good strategy by Harlequin Tragedy in the early going, using speed to escape the big man's grasp, but I also have to hand it to the Butcher. He's keeping his cool and taking a deep breath. [Verhoeven charges back in and locks him up in a side headlock. Verhoeven executes the side takedown - 1 - 2 - kickout. Harlequin Tragedy is able to relieve some of the pressure, as he gets back to his feet. Verhoeven cranks on the headlock, but Tragedy is able to bounce him off the ropes and take him down with a drop toe hold. Verhoeven gets back up and is immediately taken down by a leg sweep of Tragedy's. Tragedy holds on to the leg and tries a figure-four, but Verhoeven kicks him in the back on his way around, and Tragedy goes flying into the cage. Big heel pop!] SR: Verhoeven was quite shaken early, but it appears that he's gotten the pace back in his favor. [The Butcher moves in and begins choking Tragedy over the ring rope. The ref administers a count - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5... Verhoeven hasn't broken the hold yet. The referee begins trying to pull the Butcher's hands off Tragedy, and finally, the big man relinquishes the hold, and Harlequin Tragedy's body slumps to the mat.] TD: Isn't that grounds for disqualification? SR: You bet it is. TD: Then why didn't he... oh, forget it, you're hopeless. [As Steve Roberts chuckles at the broadcasters' table, Verhoeven begins mauling Harlequin Tragedy, working him over with right hands. Tragedy, caught against the turnbuckle, begins to slowly fall back to the mat. As he does, he is able to quickly crawl between Otto's legs and he executes a quick drop kick. Verhoeven's head flies into the steel bars, and Tragedy catches the big man with a weak version of a backslide suplex.] TD: Well, I wouldn't say he planted him with authority, but at least he got him off his feet and dropped him. [Tragedy kicks Verhoeven in the midsection and quickly hooks his head between his legs. Tragedy gets an evil grin on his face.] SR: What's he gonna try here? A piledriver? TD: This is crazy... [Harlequin Tragedy cleverly jumps over the reeling brute and executes a sunset flip. Verhoeven staggers back on his feet, but is able to recover and drops down with a huge fist - but Tragedy moves out of the way! Pop!] TD: Very cagey -- no pun intended -- by Harlequin Tragedy there. [Verhoeven staggers around the ring, and Tragedy measures him up again. He charges in and drops a shoulder into the back of the Butcher's knee, which immediately lays Otto out in the center of the ring. Tragedy quickly climbs up the side of the cage and flies across the ring with a huge plancha. Huge pop! Tragedy hooks a leg - 1 - 2 - kickout!] TD: Nice offense mounted by Harlequin Tragedy, but the resilience of the big man keeps him in this match. [Harlequin Tragedy drops a leg on the chest of Otto and hops back up to his feet. He walks to the end of the big man and picks up his legs. As he attempts to apply the Tragic Ending, a scorpion deathlock, Otto kicks him in the groin, which causes Harlequin Tragedy to wince in pain.] TD: That was a low shot! The referee should do something about that! SR: Like what?! Beat Verhoeven up? [With Tragedy doubled over, Verhoeven makes quick prey of him. He quickly stands over the man and executes a huge jumping DDT. Heel pop! Suddenly, a mixed pop comes from the crowd as the Sandman makes his way slowly down the aisle. Nurse Heidi looks at him in disgust, and begins to throw a fit on the outside.] TD: Oh oh. What does _he_ want? SR: I don't know. This guy is crazy about Nurse Heidi. But then, which red-blooded man isn't? [Sandman begins to annoy Nurse Heidi, who seems to want to have nothing to do with him. The Sandman is treating Heidi quite well, however, and so Heidi takes some time to listen to what he has to say.] TD: Apparently the Sandman wants to... reconcile with the Butcher and Heidi? SR: The Butcher's not going to want any part of this guy, and nor is Heidi. Lock him in the Sedative, baby! TD: Please, Steve, don't incite from the commentary position. [In the ring, Verhoeven seems a bit distracted, but continues to pummel the wounded Harlequin. He applies a surfboard and begins cranking on Tragedy's arms. Verhoeven spins the jester around so that he can better view his fiancee's ordeal on the outside with the Sandman. Verhoeven releases the hold and walks over to the wall of the cage nearest Heidi. He asks Sandman what is going on, who seems to be quite innocent. The Butcher shrugs and walks away, giving only a warning.] TD: What the heck is going on here? SR: Well, whatever the Sandman said must have been satisfactory; it got Otto's attention back on Harlequin Tragedy. TD: Yeah, who got the short end of that deal? [As Harlequin Comedy looks on in anguish, her beloved Tragedy gets stomped in the head by the former boxing champ. Verhoeven flips him over and covers - 1 - 2 - kickout! Verhoeven snaps him up by the hair and executes a huge backbreaker. In the meantime, the Sandman has given Heidi a peace offering - a red rose. Heidi reluctantly accepts the gift, and takes a sniff of the beautiful flower, sending dust flying everywhere. The Sandman laughs hysterically as Heidi faints, knocked out by the "magic" powder.] TD: You have to wonder whether that stuff does any permanent damage. SR: I don't know about the dust doing permanent damage, but Otto Verhoeven is going to do some permanent damage to the Sandman when he gets his hands on him -- look at him go! [The Butcher becomes enraged by the acts of the Sandman and dashes toward the cage, jumping up and beginning to climb it. In the meantime, the Sandman drapes Nurse Heidi over his shoulder and heads for the back, apparently not knowing about Otto's obsessive rage. Huge pop! Verhoeven gets to the other side and leaps down for the last 12 feet of the cage, lands on his feet, and makes a bee line for the Sandman. The Sandman turns and sees Otto, and drops Heidi off to the side. Otto nails the Sandman with a right hand, but the mysterious one fires right back.] SR: Now we're gonna see a fight! [In the ring, Harlequin Tragedy is finally beginning to stir, and referee is asking him about his well being. Finally, Harlequin Comedy jumps on the side of the cage and tells the referee to count Verhoeven out of the ring. The ref begins his count - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - on the outside, Creed appears in the aisle, slowly strolling toward the Sandman, who is beginning to overwhelm the Butcher.] TD: Look out, Sandman! Look behind you... SR: He's holding his own, but can he take on two men? [Creed arrives upon the scene and begins to pummel on the back of the Sandman's neck. Verhoeven gets away and lays on the floor, taking a second to recover. The ref continues counting... 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10! He calls for the bell and raises the hand of Harlequin Tragedy. The bell sounds.] TD: Harlequin Tragedy just got the biggest win of his career... and he has the Sandman to thank! SR: Perhaps they were in cahoots? TD: I don't know if the Sandman could be in cahoots with _anyone_. [Verhoeven seems disinterested with the referee's decision and begins beating on the snoozer. As Creed and the Butcher continue to kick and stomp away, Nurse Heidi finally recovers.] TD: Good morning, sunshine! SR: Shut up, Dross. [Otto picks up the Sandman and delivers the massive chokeslam backbreaker, the Slaugherslam. Big heel pop as the Sandman screams in agony. As Creed kicks the Sandman in the ribs, referees and security officials begin filing down to ringside, trying to break up the fight. After a few more minutes of verbal and physical assault, Creed decides to leave, and Otto picks up Nurse Heidi and does the same. The crowd jeers the two men and Heidi as they make their ways out of the ringside area. Later, Harlequin Tragedy, who intelligently stayed out of the brawl, exits the cage and heads back up the aisle toward the locker room.] TD: What a great match, Steve. But Verhoeven probably deserved the win. SR: Tragedy impressed me. He wasn't likely to win that match, I figure Otto was less than a minute from finishing him off, but he fought hard, stuck to a strategy, and really baffled the big man from Essen. TD: Too bad that the Sandman had to ruin a good match. Now look at him, he's laid out. While the steel cage is dismantled once more, let's go to an interview I conducted last night with Mr. Mic, manager of Pain Inc., who has bought some interview time on tonight's show for Dan Kauffman to apologise for his "interference" in the tag team battle royal at Snow Brawl: [Cut to a split screen: on the left, Tim Dross is seated in a studio; on the right, Mr. Mic and Hades are seated in the conservatory in Mr. Mic's mansion. Both men are laying back in their chairs with smirks on their faces.] TD: Mr. Mic and Hades, thank you for joining us. Hades: Please dispense with the pleasantries, Mr. Dross. Mr. Mic is a very busy man! MM: Now Hades, Mr. Dross is trying to do his job. TD: Okay, let's get right to the point. Mr. Mic do you think Dan Kauffman will apologize on Saturday Night? MM: Tim, I wouldn't have bought valuable IIWF time if I didn't think so. He didn't aplogize tonight, so obviously he will tomorrow! TD: Well, Mr. Mic, in their last interview, Mr.Kauffman and the Players' Club seemed to shrug you off. MM: Tim, teams like the Players' Club who shrug us off soon end up with one more in the loss column and a lot more in the insurance premium column. Hades: As for Kaufmann, that comment about more guts than brains is certainly true. Remember Dan, there are four of us and only three of you. Besides I can count at least five gentlemen here in the IIWF that would love to see you pack your bags and limp out of here. TD: Well, gentleman, will you be in attendence tomorrow night? MM: I dunno, Tim... We may, we may not. We're not sure. Hades: Mr. Dross, you must understand that Mr. Mic has many other interests aside from wrestling. His time is very valuable.... TD: What about the Players' Club? MM: Tim, the Players' Club are a good team... but not good enough. If they want to rock'n'roll with Pain Inc. then let's stop talkin' and let's start fightin'! You two are in for a world of Pain. As for Kauffman, we have something special just for you! Hades: This interview is done. Goodbye, Mr. Dross. [Cut back to ringside.] SR: Something special for Kauffman? I like the sound of that! TD: I don't. Dan had better be watching his back especially carefully here tonight. Let's talk about the next great match scheduled here tonight. Marty Warnett, fresh off a great performance at Snow Brawl, will be facing the newly-crowned Intercontinental Champion, Steve Kowalski, and you can bet that both men will be fighting over that belt with reckless abandon. SR: Yes, indeed, I'd have to give "reckless" to the Fury here, but not to Marty Warnett. Warnett is a laid back type of guy, sits on his heels, waits for an opening and then goes. TD: Marty Warnett is a fierce competitor, though, and he could surprise Steve Kowalski - and the fans here in the Coliseum - with an upset victory. SR: Warnett is certainly a cagey youngster in that ring, as we saw in the Lethal Lottery at Snow Brawl back in December. TD: Marty Warnett didn't even wrestle in the first match of the tournament. Along with the American Patriot, he was scheduled to wrestle against Ronnie Paris and his arch-enemy, "Superstar" Stud Stetson. However, a pre-match donnybrook broke out between the two rivals, and they never made it to the ring. SR: It left a jobber showcase, Paris and the Patriot, to wrestle a singles match. The Patriot won by pinfall, thus sending himself and his "partner," Marty Walnut, to the Battle Royal... [Cut to footage from the Lethal Lottery Battle Royal at Snow Brawl, subtitled "21 December, 1996." Marty Warnett is beaten into the corner by Dirt Dog, until he suddenly switches places, and begins pummeling Allah with punches to the midsection. However, his bad knee is clipped from behind by Lord Byron, and Warnett hits the mat.] TD: Warnett was injured from the repeated attacks of Stud Stetson, and he was further beaten up prior to the tag team matchup. Needless to say, the young star was one hurting unit, but he refused to quit, even after his injured knee got taken out again... [Cut to more footage from the Lethal Lottery Battle Royal. Lord Byron tries to force Dirt Dog out of the ring by choking him and kicking him, but he is upended by Marty Warnett, who sends Byron over the top rope to the floor! Huge pop! Cut to later footage of the match... Warnett spins round and clotheslines Allah out of the ring to the outside! Big pop!] SR: Warnett was like a possessed man in that ring at Snow Brawl, Tim, but in the end, he came up a bit short, due to the interference of his nemesis, once again, Mr. Stetson, who had come to the ring just moments after Chris Quigley was eliminated, guaranteeing Warnett at least an Intercontinental shot... [Cut to more footage from the Lethal Lottery Battle Royal. Warnett drags Casey James to his feet, and attempts to whip him into the ropes, but Casey reverses, and sends Marty for the ride. Stetson pulls down the top rope as Marty hits them, causing him to topple out of the ring to the floor! Huge heel pop! Ding! Ding! Ding!] SR: Casey James got a well-deserved victory, and, as a result, will face Dan "Splash" Kauffman right here later tonight for the IIWF World Title. TD: Warnett, the runner-up, earned the right to compete in this match for the Intercontinental Title, against the recently-crowned Steve Kowalski... [Cut to footage from Snow Brawl, subtitled "21 December, 1996." Kowalski points up at Shakespeare and signals that the Skullpump is in his near future. The Champion smiles, and holds open the ropes for Kowalski to get into the ring.] SR: "Painbringer" Billy Sexton was supposed to get this title shot, but due to mysterious circumstances, he wasn't even in Alaska. That funny French guy decided that Kowalski was worthy of the title match, and why not? TD: The decision was certainly an unpopular one, Steve, but the determined champion refused to say die, and even with all his ailments, he kept fighting back, and had the match under control, until he made one fatal mistake... [Cut again to footage from Snow Brawl. Billy bides his time as Kowalski turns and walks towards the corner. Cameras flash as Shakespeare launches himself with his backflip crossbody splash into the ring -- but Kowalski drops to the mat, and Billy misses! Huge heel pop! Both men are laid out on the canvas!] SR: An injured Billy Shakespeare was in no condition to go up top, and his bonehead mistake led to... this. [Cut to later in the match. Kowalski performs the vicious double underhook piledriver on Shakespeare and deliberately makes the cover. The referee counts - 1 - 2 - 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: Yes, Steve, the noble Billy Shakespeare was left lying in the ring after sustaining the Skullpump at the hands of Steve Kowalski. SR: Noble? Hardly. Pukespeare finally got in over his head, and a worthy champion surfaced to take away that championship. TD: Thus the match set for tonight, it's Steve Kowalski putting his Intercontinental Championship on the line against Marty Warnett... Let's go up to the ring! =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= IIWF INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Steve "the Fury" Kowalski vs. Marty Warnett ------------------------------------------- RA: This following matchup is set for one fall, and is for the IIWF Intercontinental Championship! [Pop!] Introducing first, the challenger... at 245 pounds, from Cardiff, Wales, Great Britain... Marty Warnett! [As "Cold Gin" by Kiss starts up on the speakers, screams of "Marty, Marty!" arise from a female delegation in the crowd. Marty Warnett confidently appears in the aisle and makes his way down to the ring, high fiving fans, and with a focused look in his eye. Warnett gets to the ring and begins bouncing from rope to rope in anxiety. Sparkplug Lee smiles again and continues:] RA: And his opponent... [The jeering begins, as "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult starts.] hailing from Newark, New Jersey, and weighing in at 268 pounds... your IIWF Intercontinental Champion, Steve "The Fury" Kowalski! [Kowalski comes through the curtain to a massive heel pop, to which Kowalski responds by hoisting the title high. After talking trash with a couple of women in their 70s, Kowalski slowly heads to the ring.] TD: Steve Kowalski got the title shot when Billy Sexton failed to appear for the match, as we said earlier. Sexton believed that the champion Billy Shakespeare was never injured in the first place -- and that he was just paying off IIWF officials to avoid a defense against the Painbringer. SR: That's right, Dross. But now that it has been made obvious that Quakespeare was, in fact, genuinely injured, it seems quite probably that it was Kowalski who was poisoning Sexton's ear and mind with these notions of faking an injury, in order to give _himself_ a shot at the weakened Intercontinental champion. TD: As a result, Kowalski did defeat Shakespeare, and that's why we see him right now with that Intercontinental Title, and I'd have to imagine that Sexton can't be too pleased with him. SR: Sexton was stupid not to show up to Snow Brawl; where was he anyway? TD: Nobody knows, Steve. [Kowalski, already in the ring, Kowalski removes his denim Harley-Davidson jacket and hands it to a ring attendant. He then proceeds to reluctantly hand the belt to the referee in the ring. The ref takes it and shows it to Marty Warnett, who takes a moment to admire it, and then he nods in determination. The ref spins to take it to the ring attendant, and then the Fury starts the match on his own, dashing in and nailing Warnett with a right hand. As Warnett hits the mat, the ref calls for the opening bell.] SR: Don't take your eyes off Steve Kowalski, Tim. We saw what he did to that loser Norton a few weeks ago. TD: That cost him some time off, too, Steve. SR: He didn't care. He just got an extended rest period before his title match at Snow Brawl, into which he so adeptly maneuvered himself... [Warnett hops back up to his feet and tries for a headlock, but Kowalski ducks. In an outstanding show of technique, Warnett simply keeps spinning around the man until he gets behind him and applies a hammerlock. Kowalski winces in pain, and swings an elbow at Marty's head. Warnett ducks under that, and holds on to Kowalski's hand, now applying a full arm drag-and-twist. Kowalski, realizing that he is in trouble, makes his way to the ropes and grabs the top one with his free hand. The ref calls for the break, and Marty obliges.] TD: The challenger wrestling a good game plan in there, using technique to frustrate his opponent. SR: Yeah right, "frustrate" Kowalski to the point of eating your spleen for dinner. Good plan. [Kowalski pauses for a half second, and then slaps Marty in the mouth on the rebound. Big heel pop! Warnett takes a moment to regroup, and then takes a slap at Kowalski. Pop! The champ becomes enraged, and tackles Warnett, who gladly brawls with him. After rolling on the canvas for a while, Warnett gets the advantage and pummels Kowalski on the bridge of the nose, letting out a huge scream in anguish. The ref finally pulls Warnett off him, but the damage is done, apparently to Kowalski's ego.] TD: Fisticuffs early, and Warnett showing that he will not back down! SR: Not the way I'd want to go, but so far it's working for Walnut. [Kowalski takes a break in the corner, and then arrogantly raises his hands to the sky, calling for a knucklelock.] SR: Now we'll see who's the stronger man, Timbo. Warnett may not even have the guts to try it. TD: I'll tell you who the stronger man is: it's Kowalski, and nobody disputes it. Warnett shouldn't either. He should wrestle his game plan, and not get caught up in any of this bull, if he wants to win the title... [After some trash talking from Kowalski, Warnett finally walks in and reluctantly locks his left hand with Kowalski's right. At that moment, the Fury unloads with a massive kick to the gut, which is blocked by Warnett's free hand! Warnett spins him around by the leg and executes a German suplex - 1 - 2 - kickout!] TD: Kowalski's cheap ploy backfired there, as Warnett scores a nice German suplex, and almost wins himself his first title here in the IIWF. SR: If Kowalski gets caught off guard too many times like that, it's gonna come back to bite him. [Kowalski charges in, and the two combatants lock up, collar and elbow. Warnett tries a side headlock, but Kowalski lifts him up and lands a devastating side suplex. He follows up with an elbow to the midsection. The referee warns him about low blows, but Kowalski just waves him away. The champ stands over the fallen Warnett, and snaps him back up by the hair. He picks him up and walks to a point near the ropes before executing a fallaway slam which sends Warnett flying all the way across the ring. Heel pop!] SR: Kowalski has finally gotten control of this matchup, Dross. If he can keep this up, he'll be pumping skull in no time. TD: Warnett is in trouble here, Steve, but don't count him out. [Warnett, close to the ropes, is kicked in the side by the arrogant Kowalski. Warnett's body falls to the floor, and Kowalski follows him to the outside, looking around the crowd barrier. He suddenly grins at his find, and walks over and picks up a chair. Big heel pop. He heads back in the direction of Warnett, but the referee quickly jumps to the floor and threatens Kowalski with disqualification. The Fury protests, but eventually throws the chair back behind him. By now, Warnett is back on one knee trying to get back to his feet. The ref jumps back in the ring and begins his count - 1 - 2...] TD: That wasted plenty of time, Steve. Let's see if it comes back to haunt him. [Kowalski stands over the struggling Warnett and lifts a knee into his jaw. Warnett crashes back down to the floor as the ref continues - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6...] SR: Nope. [The champ picks Warnett back up and heaves him into the ring before slowly making his way up the apron and to the top rope. Warnett, dazed and confused, staggers about the ring, trying to find his attacker. Kowalski, perched upon the top turnbuckle, times his jump and launches himself halfway across the ring, landing a beautiful double axe handle to Warnett's forehead. Marty holds his ground for a second, before slowly toppling to the mat. The Fury takes a moment to admire his work, then drops on top for a sloppy cover - 1 - 2 - kickout! The crowd pops in support of the challenger!] TD: Now, why on earth didn't Kowalski just quickly hop on top and hook a leg? He'd have probably gotten him there, and he could do his strutting and jawing _after_ he'd won the match. This way he has to keep working, and there's no guarantee he'll even retain his title. SR: But the man has style. Come on, Fury! [Kowalski down for Warnett's leg and begins to lock up a Texas Cloverleaf. The challenger, sensing that the end may be near, begins kicking and thrashing like a baby. As Kowalski struggles to hold him, Warnett reaches the rope and clutches it for dear life. As the ref calls for a clean break, the champ kicks Warnett right in the back of thigh before releasing him.] TD: Warnett got away momentarily, but another cheap blow by Kowalski, and suddenly, Warnett's right back in the fire. SR: He's about to get burned, just watch. [Kowalski swings Warnett into the ropes, and bounces to the opposite side of the ring himself. Cameras flash as the champ sends himself flying across the ring with a high lariat to the chest of Warnett. Warnett's body does a three-quarter backward flip before landing face first on the mat. Big heel pop!] SR: Did you see that clothesline? What a leap by Kowalski, and he's showing just why he's the champion right now! TD: Steve Kowalski, out to prove that it was not a fluke at Snow Brawl, that he deserves that title, and it seems he's just a few seconds away from finishing off Marty Warnett and winning this match... [Kowalski slowly rebounds off the ropes and drops a leg across the back of young Marty's neck. He gets back to his feet and begins pacing around the ring, giving the sign for the Skullpump. Big heel pop!] TD: The Skullpump is one of the most devastating moves in all of professional wrestling today. If he hits this, it may not only win him the match, but put the career of one Marty Warnett on hold for a while... SR: It'll put him in the hospital, that's for sure! [Kowalski finally makes his way toward the battered challenger, and lifts him back to his feet. He kicks him in the stomach, doubling him over, and steps over his head. Warnett, in trouble, reaches for the back of Kowalski's legs. As Kowalski reaches up to underhook the arms, Warnett leans back and bounces off the rope, pushing into Kowalski's midsection, and pulling with his arms. The force sends the champ crashing on his back, with Warnett holding him by the legs. Marty, half out of deliberation and half out of collapsing, falls back and slingshots the champ up and onto the top rope! Warnett gets back to his feet and rocks the stunned champ with a huge reverse DDT! Big pop!] TD: He got away, and now he's got control of the match! SR: Great move by Walnut to escape and mount a little offense, but I don't know how much good it's doing... TD: Both men seem to be pretty much spent right now. Whoever gets up first will likely be very close to finishing their opponent off. SR: Come on, Fury! [As the two men lay on their backs, the referee imposes a count on them - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - Kowalski begins to stir - 6 - 7 - 8 - the Fury makes it back to his feet and helps Warnett, by the hair no less, back to his feet as well. He whips him into the ropes and tries a clothesline, but Warnett ducks and takes off for the opposite ropes. By the time the tiring Kowalski turns around, Warnett has already launched himself for a cross body block - 1 - 2 - kickout! Warnett, suddenly revived, gets quickly back to his feet and rocks Kowalski with a clothesline. Cover - 1 - 2 - another kickout. As the staggered champ stumbles around the ring, Warnett flies in with a crucifix - 1 - 2 - kickout! The crowd moans in discouragement.] TD: Look at Marty Warnett taking to the air attack, and getting the best of Steve Kowalski right here. We could have a new champion in just a matter of seconds! SR: But Warnett can't finish the man, Tim Dross. He's getting lots of two-counts, sure, and the crowd's backing him up, but until he pins that man's shoulder for three seconds, or makes him say "I give up", he's not doing any good! [Marty Warnett, more determined than ever, quickly heads to the ring apron, on the opposite side of the ropes. He measures up the champ, and when he enters the area, slingshots himself back into the ring at Kowalski, who is able to catch him up and land a vicious powerslam! Big heel pop! Kowalski stays on top - 1 - 2 - kickout! Kowalski picks Warnett back up and rocks him with an inverted atomic drop!] SR: See, there you go, Dross. The kid gets a little offense going, but just like that, Kowalski is able to stamp it out with just one move. The Fury is back in control. [Kowalski charges the Welsh sensation and hits him with a running knee to the hip. He bounces to the rope again, and dashes toward Warnett. At the last second, Warnett is able to duck and sends the arrogant New Jersey native over the top rope to the floor! Big pop!] TD: Back and forth, back and forth, and now Warnett has an opportunity! [Warnett quickly jumps through the ropes to the floor. He sets Kowalski up where he wants him and performs a DDT out on the floor. Kowalski is laid out face first, in front of some fans who seem to enjoy heckling him. A can of soda comes flying at him to a huge crowd pop. Security quickly arrives on the scene and escorts the rambunctious fan out of ringside area. In the meantime, Warnett heads to the top rope. As Kowalski begins to stir, the chants of "MAR - TY! MAR - TY!" echo throughout the IIWF Coliseum. When the bewildered champion gets back to his feet, Warnett sends himself hurtling through the air at Kowalski, executing a flying Frankensteiner! Massive crowd pop!] TD: What a spectacular move by Marty Warnett! A Frankensteiner from the top rope, and it looks like he's got the match won now, all he has to do is throw Kowalski back in and cover him! [Both men are laid out on their backs, however, and the referee begins his count - 1 - 2 - 3 - suddenly, a great arousal from the crowd interrupts him.] SR: What the hell?! [Seizing the opportunity, "Painbringer" Billy Sexton takes off on a dead run for the Intercontinental belt. He grabs it, and proceeds to smash the injured combatants, Kowalski and Warnett, over the back of the head with it. Massive heel pop!] SR: It's Billy Sexton! He did show up after all, just a couple of weeks late! TD: Sexton obviously not happy with Steve Kowalski for talking him out of the match with Shakespeare at Snow Brawl, and then he decided to smack Warnett a good one while he was out here, just for good measure! [The referee calls for the bell and exits the ring to talk to Sparkplug.] TD: A great match just got thrown out because of Billy Sexton's interference! [After verbally berating Kowalski and spitting on the back of Warnett, the pretenders to "his" title, Sexton takes off up the aisle, with the Intercontinental Championship in hand.] RA: The referee has decided, due to the interference of Billy Sexton, that this match be ruled a no contest! As a result, the IIWF Intercontinental Championship will remain in the hands of "The Fury", Steve Kowalski! SR: Sparkplug better rephrase that, because the belt doesn't appear to be staying in Kowalski's hands! [Billy Sexton reaches the end of the aisle, looking back at the ring to make sure that his two victims aren't coming after him. Suddenly, the crowd jumps out its seat with a huge pop. Sexton thinks it is for him and hoists the belt high. He turns back toward the locker room just in time to see Billy Shakespeare is nose to nose with him! Pop!] TD: Billy Shakespeare is back to stake his claim to the Intercontinental Championship! [Shakespeare goes crazy and rocks Sexton with a right hand. The Painbringer hits the floor, and Shakespeare jumps on top of him, nailing him with shots from every direction. Shakespeare reaches out and grabs the belt, which had flown out of Sexton's grasp, and swats him across the face with it, much to the delight of the crowd, which pops again. Suddenly, security rushes out of the back.] TD: Billy Shakespeare has got the Intercontinental Title back in _his_ possession, and Steve, I just gotta tell you, that's where I think it belongs in the first place. SR: Well, I think that Sexton and Kowalski each have a legitimate claim to this title, as well, though, Tim. Kowalski being the current champion, Shakespeare being the former champion, and Sexton being the one cheated out of the title shot, there's probably only one way to settle this... TD: I think I know where this is headed, Steve -- a triangle match. [As security works to pull Shakespeare off Sexton's chest, nobody realizes that Steve Kowalski has made a quick recovery. Kowalski, the current champion, arrives on the scene and puts the jump on Billy Shakespeare, who falls to the concrete. Kowalski is then restrained by security, but not before he gets his hands back on his beloved Intercontinental Title. Billy Sexton hops back up, but is restrained by security, as is Shakespeare. Kowalski then leaves the area and heads back to the locker room to multiple jeers and insults.] SR: Well, it appears that Steve Kowalski not only _retained_ his title in the match, but _regained_ from thieves afterwards in a Pier 6 Brawl. Well done by the Fury. TD: Obviously Kowalski has to be somewhat pleased with the outcome, escaping a determined Marty Warnett and still having the championship, but I think that one that really got cheated here was Marty himself. He had just nailed Kowalski with a great move, and looked like he had a good shot at winning the match when Sexton showed up. It's too bad. SR: [sarcastic] Oh yeah, I really feel for the guy. Get him out of here. [Warnett slowly gets back to his feet and heads back up the aisle. On his way by, he stops to shake hands with Billy Shakespeare. Cameras flash and the crowd pops at this display of comradery before Warnett heads back to the locker room, dejected but not defeated.] TD: I don't think that man has anything to hang his head about. He wrestled a great match and nearly won the title. Marty Warnett will fight another day, that's rest assured, Steve. SR: Who cares?! He had a shot, he blew it. Let him battle Majestic Maurice McArthur for the rest of his IIWF career. Nobody will miss him. TD: I don't think that's entirely true, Steve. Fans, we're now just moments away from tonight's huge main event! IIWF World Champion Dan Kauffman will face possibly his toughest test to date as he faces Casey "Blackheart" James in a no countout, no disqualification title match. SR: Kauffman made a big mistake when he agreed to the extra stipulations for this match, Dross. He can't beat Casey at his own game. TD: I wouldn't be so sure, Steve. Dan is no stranger to the style of wrestling espoused by Casey James, and he's going to pull out all the stops in this match. Let's get up to the ring. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= IIWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Dan Kauffman vs. Casey "Blackheart" James ----------------------------------------- [Sparkplug Lee steps into the spotlight and raises his microphone.] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for tonight's main event! [Big pop!] The following encounter is scheduled for one fall, and it is a special no disqualification, no countout match for the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship! [Big pop!] Introducing first, the challenger... ["Foul Taste of Freedom" starts up over the PA, and the crowd explodes into a torrent of jeers.] RA: ...accompanied to the ring by Brian Lau, representing the Syndicate, hailing from Washington, DC and weighing in at 320lbs, here is... Casey "Blackheart" James! [The spotlight falls on the head of the aisle. Casey steps out, a broad smile on his face. He slaps his right fist into his left palm and surveys the crowd. Rather than his usual wrestling attire, Casey is wearing loose-fitting jeans, combat boots, and a defaced Dan Kauffman t-shirt. The word "Kauffman" has been scrubbed out and replaced by "Khaos", and there are a number of obscene doodles scrawled on Kauffman's face. Brian Lau steps out beside James with a big smile on his face, and they make their way down to ringside.] TD: What do you make of Casey's ring attire, Steve? SR: Casey's not dressed for a wrestling match, Dross -- he's dressed for a draw. That t-shirt is a nice touch, don't you think? TD: Charming. [Casey climbs into the ring, and raises his arms to the crowd, who continue to jeer him solidly. Sparkplug Lee raises his microphone once more.] RA: And introducing his opponent... ["Zero" kicks in over the PA system, and the crowd's jeers turn to cheers.] RA: ...hailing from Hagerstown, Maryland, and weighing in at 230lbs, here is the IIWF World Heavyweight Champion, Dan "Flash" Kauffman! [Huge pop as fireworks explode just in front of the entranceway at the head of the aisle. Through the cloud of smoke steps Kauffman, the IIWF title belt glinting around his waist. Fans reach out to touch him on all sides, but Kauffman's gaze is locked firmly on the ring, and he walks straight down to ringside. Casey comes over to the ropes and taunts Kauffman from the ring, pointing at his t-shirt. Kauffman doesn't even crack a smile, unfastening the belt from around his waist as he climbs the ringsteps, his gaze fixed on Casey all the time. James continues to taunt Kauffman, but doesn't make any move towards the champion. Kauffman takes the title belt in his hands, and then spins around, ramming the belt into Casey's gut! Big pop! Casey staggers backwards as Kauffman drops the title, and then catapults himself over the ropes into the ring, nailing Casey with a powerful flying clothesline! Big pop!] TD: Wow! An explosive start from an all-business Kauffman here tonight! SR: Typical of Kauffman to blindside his opponent. Don't worry, Dross, Casey James can't be beaten in this type of match. [Kauffman stays on top of Casey, dragging the stunned athlete to his feet and whipping him into the ropes. He hits Casey with a standing dropkick, and James rolls to the outside. Kauffman measures his opponent, bounces against the ropes, and throws himself out of the ring with a somersault plancha over the top rope! James dodges out of the way at the last moment, and Kauffman hits the steel barriers hard! James takes a few seconds to shake off the cobwebs, and then drags Kauffman to his feet. He easily hoists him in position for a backbreaker, but instead takes a few steps back and runs Kauffman's back into the steel ringpost. Rather than letting the champion drop, James repeats the manoeuvre not once, but twice more. Big heel pop! James finally dumps Kauffman on the floor, and attempts to lift some of the protective padding around ringside. He pulls up one of the pads, exposing an area of concrete.] TD: Wow! This has gotten ugly very early on, Steve! SR: Just the way I like it! Come on, Casey! Crack Kauffman's head like an egg! [Casey drags Kauffman to his feet, puts his head between his legs, and walks him backwards, setting him up for a piledriver on the exposed concrete floor. Kauffman blocks the attempt and tries to backdrop his opponent. However, his back seems weakened, and Casey eliminates the danger by hitting Kauffman with a kneelift. Kauffman stands bolt upright, stunned, and Casey grabs him, knocking him to the floor with a short arm clothesline. Big heel pop! Casey stomps on Kauffman's head with his heavy combat boots, despite the referee's attempts to drag him away. Casey threatens the official, buying Kauffman a few valuable seconds. He drags himself to his feet using the ring apron, and as Casey James turns from his argument with the official, Kauffman lashes out with a boot to James' midsection. Kauffman grabs Casey's head, and rams it hard into the steel crowd barriers. Big pop! Casey goes down hard, and Kauffman grabs some cable from the floor, wrapping it around his opponent's neck. Kauffman chokes James until Brian Lau kicks Kauffman in the back of the head from behind. The official pushes Lau away from the two wrestlers, both of whom are laid out on the arena floor.] TD: Both athletes know how high the stakes are in this match, and they're going to take each other to the limit. [There is a buzz in the crowd as a figure appears in the aisle.] SR: Here comes Brody Thunder! This could get even uglier, Dross! TD: Thunder still wants a piece of Casey James... he could be a decisive factor in this match! [However, before Thunder can even reach ringside, Tiger Claw dashes out into the aisle, closely followed by a bevy of security officials. Claw and Thunder immediately start brawling, and security surround them, trying to pull them apart. Meanwhile, Casey and Kauffman start to stir, and slug it out on the outside. Casey blocks a right hand from Kauffman, and stuns him with a right and a left of his own. Casey drives the champion's head into the steel ringsteps, and then rolls Kauffman back into the ring. He climbs the steps and takes a moment to flex for the crowd, who jeer him solidly, before stepping through the ropes. He drags Kauffman to his feet, and winds his arms up in the ropes, preventing him from moving.] TD: Come on, referee! Get Kauffman out of there! SR: Why, Dross? Nothing's illegal in this match. TD: Tiger Claw continues to brawl with Thunder in the aisle and -- wow! Casey James hits Kauffman in the chest with a reverse thrust kick! That training with Tiger Claw seems to be paying off! [Casey hits Kauffman with another reverse thrust kick, catching him flush under the jaw, and then drives a couple of hard knee shots into the champion's ribs. The crowd give a solid heel pop as Casey flexes once more. Kauffman weakly lashes out with his legs, but Casey simply steps back and laughs. He leans in and slaps Kauffman across the face. Big heel pop! Kauffman lashes out with his legs again, but Casey dodges before stepping in and slapping Kauffman a second time, the crack resounding around the Coliseum.] TD: Wow! What a shot! Casey doesn't just want to beat Kauffman -- he wants to humiliate him. SR: You don't say, Sherlock. TD: Look -- Kauffman's busted open! His nose is bleeding from those slaps. SR: Yes! First blood at last! [The referee finally steps in and releases Kauffman from the ropes, and the champion slumps to the mat. Casey kicks Kauffman with his heavy boots, forcing Dan to roll out of the ring under the ropes. In the aisle, security manage to drag Claw and Thunder back up the aisle to the locker room area. Brian Lau gets up on the apron, and appears to give Casey a few tactical guidelines. On the outside, Kauffman has begun to stir, and Casey sizes him up. The challenger bounces off the ropes, and throws himself between the top and second ropes, landing on Kauffman with an impressive cross-body block! Big heel pop!] TD: It's not often you see a three hundred pound man fly like that, Steve! SR: I wouldn't take a risk like that in a match as important as this, Dross, but it looks like Casey has Kauffman's number here. TD: Hold on -- look who's coming down the aisle! It's Chris Quigley! SR: He's a bad loser, Dross. He's probably come out here to get in Casey's face. It's eating him up inside that he was beaten in that battle royal at Snow Brawl. [Quigley walks down the aisle to a big pop from the crowd. Instead of getting involved in the match, Quigley simply walks around the ringside area and takes a seat by the timekeeper's table. Casey James notices Quigley's presence, and leaves Kauffman to jaw with the Canadian. Quigley signals that he has no desire to interfere, but James isn't satisfied, and drags Quigley to his feet. A shoving match between the two men begins, and the recovering Kauffman nails Casey from behind, pushing him into Quigley. This only serves to frustrate Quigley further, and Chris grabs the chair he had been sitting on. He swings it at Casey, who dodges out of the way, and instead hits Kauffman hard over the head! The champion crumples to the floor like a sack of potatoes! Huge confused pop!] TD: I can't believe it! Quigley just nailed Kauffman with that chair! The champion's out cold... and Quigley doesn't seem to care! SR: He's raising that chair again -- no! [Quigley jabs Casey in the ribs with the chair, and then brandishes it above his head again, slamming it down over the back of Casey's skull. James also hits the floor like a dead weight. Big pop! Quigley leans down over Kauffman and checks on the champion's condition. Meanwhile, Brian Lau argues with the referee.] TD: This is chaos! Surely this match will have to be stopped! SR: Damned right! Give Casey the belt! Quigley has no business out here! [There is another pop as the remaining members of the Players' Club, Danny Dynamite and Michael Reyna, dash down the aisle. They surround Quigley, and get in his face. Quigley shouts at the Players' Club that he didn't hit Kauffman deliberately, but Dynamite and Reyna aren't satisfied, shoving Quigley. Quigley shoves back, and a brawl quickly breaks out.] TD: The Players' Club attacking Quigley?! I don't understand this, Steve! SR: Tensions have finally reached breaking point, Dross! We've got a total free for all out here! This is great! [The referee sees the confusion on the outside, and signals for the bell to ring. Ding! Ding! Ding! The Players' Club and Quigley continue to brawl around the ringside area. The bell rings again. Brian Lau tends to Casey James on the arena floor. Meanwhile, Dan Kauffman stirs and pulls himself to his feet.] TD: I can't believe this -- Kauffman is on his feet! SR: That proves it. There really isn't anything in his head. TD: He's trying to stop the Players' Club attacking Quigley! [Kauffman pulls Dynamite away from Quigley, who is being held by Reyna for Dynamite to punch and kick. Kauffman argues with Dynamite, and although the camera is unable to pick up their words, it is clear that the discussion quickly becomes quite heated. Reyna drops the winded Quigley to the floor, and muscles up to Kauffman.] SR: All these huge egos in one place, Dross! It's bound to cause problems! TD: There's been a lot of speculation for some time about Dan Kauffman's allegiance to the Players' Club, and I think we're seeing the signs of the strain right here. I think Dynamite and Reyna still resent the fact that when they arrived in the IIWF, Kauffman was too busy defending his World title to give them the support they wanted. [Kauffman turns his back on the Players' Club to help Quigley to his feet. Reyna moves to nail Kauffman from behind, but Dynamite steps in, and pushes his partner back a few paces.] TD: Kauffman's helping Quigley back to his feet -- perhaps these two will be able to put their differences behind them now. [The crowd cheer as Kauffman checks on the still dazed Quigley, but then explodes with a huge heel pop as Kauffman clotheslines Quigley back to the arena floor! He stomps away on the Canadian, and before long, the Players' Club are joining in the assault!] SR: What?! TD: I can't believe what I'm seeing here, Steve! Have the Players' Club gone crazy?! [Reyna drags Quigley to his feet and places his head between his legs in position for a powerbomb. He hoists Quigley high up above his head, and both Kauffman and Dynamite assist Reyna in executing a deadly spike powerbomb! Quigley's head snaps back as he hits the barely-protected arena floor. Huge heel pop!] TD: Oh my! The spike powerbomb! That move should be outlawed! The Players' Club could have paralysed Quigley right there! SR: I don't expect they've been that lucky, Dross, but I'm beginning to like this! [The Players' Club throw in a few more shots on the semi-conscious Quigley before climbing into the ring and holding their hands aloft as if victorious. Kauffman, having grabbed his belt from the timekeeper's table, holds it above his head. The crowd give a big heel pop!] TD: I never thought I'd see the day that Dan Kauffman was booed by the crowd here in the IIWF, Steve. I'm disgusted with his actions. SR: Don't be so hard on him, Dross. I think Kauffman is beginning to realise that the way to get results is to be ruthless. Do unto others what you would have them do unto you -- but do it first! TD: That's despicable. Look at the Players' Club in there! They tried to cripple Chris Quigley, and they look pleased with themselves?! [On the outside, the referee and a couple of officials who were seated at the timekeeper's table bend over Quigley and try to ascertain his condition. Meanwhile, Brian Lau helps the recovering Casey James to his feet as the crowd explodes into a big heel pop once more. Tiger Claw and the Dark Disciples fly down the aisle and hit the ring, immediately brawling with the Players' Club.] TD: Here comes the rest of the Syndicate! We need to get some order restored out here! [The Disciples use their newly-won tag team championship belts as weapons, clotheslining Dynamite and Reyna out of the ring with them. Kauffman ducks their attempt, but is then caught by a thrust kick from Claw which knocks him to the mat. Casey rolls into the ring, and instructs Claw to hold Kauffman. James nails Kauffman with his Blackheart punch, laying him out in the ring, and then unfastens the championship belt from around his waist. Stooping to taunt Kauffman and slap him around the face, Casey waves the stolen championship belt in his face before strapping it around his own waist and allowing Tiger Claw to raise his hand in victory. The crowd reacts with a mixed pop as Casey and Claw leave the ring, followed by the Dark Disciples. The Syndicate lay a few more kicks into Dynamite and Reyna as they head up the aisle.] TD: It's absolute carnage out here, folks! Casey James has stolen the IIWF Championship belt from Dan Kauffman, but as far as I can tell, Kauffman is still officially the champion. We never heard the official decision in this match, but I can only assume that it was ruled a no contest. Fans, we're running substantially over our allotted broadcast time, and we've got to leave you in just a few seconds. I'm lost for words to explain what we've seen transpire here in the past few minutes... SR: Let me sum it up for you, Dross: Casey James has taken what he feels is rightfully his; Dan Kauffman and the Players' Club have finally realised that the support of these moronic fans doesn't win you matches; and Chris Quigley has experienced one of the most devastating moves in the wrestling world. He may never be the same again. TD: You bet he won't, Steve. He's going to be baying for Kauffman's blood, you can count on that. Fans, what a show it's been, but we must leave you! I'll update you on this situation on Tuesday night, but for now, this is Tim Dross, for "Soundbite" Steve Roberts, saying: so long, everybody! [Cut to Dan Kauffman beginning to stir in the ring, while officials continue to tend to Chris Quigley on the outside. Fade] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= I * I * W * F =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+ | President: Daniel Spreadbury | Vice-President: Steve Owens | | univ0322@sable.ox.ac.uk | sowens@admin.presby.edu | | iiwf@sisko.demon.co.uk | IIWFadmin@aol.com | +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- http://www.sisko.demon.co.uk -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+