[Open with a montage of IIWF action accompanied by hard rock music. The final chord lingers as Serge Annis rams Bobby B. Goode into the steel ring steps. Suddenly, the screen explodes into a mass of fire and smoke, through which emerges the IIWF's familiar logo:] ##### ###### ### ########## ########## ########## #### ## ########## ########## ########## #### # #### ######## ##### ##### #### ## ##### #### #### #### #### ### #### #### #### #### ############# ######### #### #### ########### ######### #### #### #### #### #### ######### ######### ### #### #### ######### ######### ### ## #### ######## ######## ## # #### =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ## =-=-=-= INTERNATIONAL INTERNET WRESTLING FEDERATION ================================================= "COUNTDOWN TO SATURDAY NIGHT" - March 7, 1997 ================================================= [Cut to the IIWF Studio. The remote camera zooms down the aisle as members of the studio audience scramble to get on camera. A group of geeky-looking teens wear black "Loop Feds 4 Life" t-shirts. A Ronnie Paris fan yells something with the name "Steele" in it. And a 200-pound woman in fishnet stockings smiles and waves a homemade poster which reads, "Stetson Baby, Fergit Lace... I Got Wut You Need." The camera zooms toward Larry Morton and Becky LaRue sitting at the broadcast desk.] LM: Hello again everyone and welcome once again to "Countdown to Saturday Night." I'm Larry Morton alongside my broadcast colleague Becky LaRue. BL: Colleague? You wish! LM: Are you planning to take another job with one of the Loop Feds? BL: Get real, those blowhards are so hard-up for exposure that they crash a show people actually watch... because I'm here, of course. LM: Uh-huh. Sure. Well, Super Scott and Mr. Robinson claim to have more stunts planned for tomorrow night and it will be interesting to see if the IIWF's stars sit back and take it once again. BL: I understand the front office has informed IIWF wrestlers to avoid any confrontation with those two goons. Supposedly, President Danny chewed "Griff" Griffing's butt on Monday and security will be beefed up tomorrow night. Maybe they'll keep the riff-raff out of the Coliseum. LM: Let's hope you're right. Fortunately, there was no such interference Wednesday night at the IIWF Coliseum, but there was plenty of _IIWF_ action. Let's run down the complete results of that card: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ IIWF WEDNESDAY WAR ROOM RESULTS March 5, 1997 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THE SANDMAN def. BOBBY B. GOODE W & W EXPRESS def. HIGH PLAINS DRIFTERS PAIN INC. def. THE BARNACLE BROTHERS DIRT DOG UNIQUE ALLAH def. JUMPING JACK RANDY ACORN def. NED NORTON STUD STETSON def. AMERICAN PATRIOT BILLY SHAKESPEARE def. NAVCOM THE CELL def. LUKE STEELE DEATHBRINGER def. NIGHTWING MR. DAMAGE def. CASEY JAMES STEVE KOWALSKI def. CHRIS QUIGLEY LM: Fines and injuries proved to be the theme for the evening. The American Patriot suffered a separated shoulder at the hands of The Cell and will be out of action at least three weeks. Also, Hellraiser of Pain Inc. suffered ligament damage in his knee when The Zodiac Connection's Scorpio did a good Tonya Harding impression and whacked him with a steel pipe. BL: Why are those looney star-gazers allowed to run around with steel pipes, anyway? I'll bet they run with scissors, too. LM: All we know for certain is that both Hellraiser and American Patriot are now on the shelf with Tiger Claw for Ring Wars III. The roster is dwindling as we approach the big pay-per-view spectacular in just over two weeks. BL: I'm more concerned about tomorrow night right now. Pain Inc. has a shot at the Dark Disciples' IIWF World Tag Team belts, but who is going to replace Hellraiser? LM: A good question, indeed. We sent Tim Dross to Houston, where Mr. Mic and his men are apparently holed-up with Night Patrol, to get the answer: [SCENE: Tim Dross enters the headquarters of the Houston Police Department. He approaches the front desk and speaks to an officer in her 30's.] TD: Hello, I'm here to see the Night Patrol and Pain Inc. DO: Hey, ain't you that Tim Dross guy from the IIWF? TD: Yes I am. Would you like an autograph? [The desk officer leans over the desk about two inches from Dross' face.] DO: NO, I want you to give the Night Patrol and Pain Inc some respect. The Night Patrol are good cops, but you, mister "I think I rule the airways," seem to think you can make judgement. Well, boy, you better watch yourself 'cause there are about 200 cops in this building who aren't too happy with you and your commentary. TD: I'm only doing my job, gimme a break! DO: Naw, I think I'll let the Patrol do that! [She picks up the phone and talks to someone for a minute. She hangs up and speaks to Tim.] DO: Okay, go down the hall, last door on your right. TD: Thanks DO: Whatever you pencil-neck... [Dross walks down the hall as officers in adjoining rooms look at him with looks of hatred, disgust, and contempt. He gets to the door which says OFFICIAL OFFICE OF TEAM BRUTALITY. He opens the door. There seated are Pain Inc. with Mr.Mic and Night Patrol seated with Brenda Hawkings. Hellraiser looks subdued and has a cast on his leg to protect his injured ligaments.] TD: Hello, everyone. Shall we.... MM: Dross, ask your questions... NOW! TD: Fine, Team Brutality scammed the fans from seeing what could have been a great tag-team match last weekend. What was all that about? BH: Watch that tone Dross or you'll find out why "police brutality" takes on a whole new meaning here in Texas. Saturday night was simple. I'm sure you would have loved to have seen these two teams try to beat each other into the ground, but Mr.Mic and I don't play your game. We make our own rules. We decided that a simple coin toss would decide who would go on and who would go after the IIWF World Tag-Team titles. MM: Exactly. Now my boys have a clear focus. Those sub-par idiots the Dark Disciples are holding belts that we helped them get. McQueen, listen up, Pain Inc wants those belts and you can't stop us. Try and we'll pound you into dust. As for the rest of the teams in the U.S Tag Team tourney, you want a preview? Picture the Night Patrol with those belts around their waists and you will see the future. BH: Well said, my partner. You see, the rest of the teams in this tournament have underestimated my men. We plan on taking the U.S. Titles, along with Pain Inc.'s winning the World Titles. No team or stable will stop our momentum. TD: What about the Zodiac Connection? They seemed to stop you. At least they stopped Hellraiser. MM: Oh yeah, real funny Dross. You mean the five-second wonders the Zodiac Connection? They needed steel pipes. They can't wrestle like real athletes... they need weapons. It's actually sad to think that for... [he rubs his chin and looks at Brenda] ...now how long did they have those titles? One day? Five hours? BH: Sorry Mr.Mic., Becky and I went to wash the car. They must've lost it while we were out! MM: [laughing] Exactly, they were the tag-team champions for a very, very, VERY short period of time. Pretty pathetic for the IIWF eh Timmy? TD: Not half as pathetic if Pain Inc gets the titles. MM: [stands up with fire in his eyes] No, No, Tim. WHEN. WHEN Pain Inc. gets those titles. TD: Obviously, Hellraiser's injury makes that doubtful. Who will replace him Saturday night when you meet the champions? MM: None of your business. We are the Pandora's Box nobody should have opened. Well you have, and now the rest of the IIWF must find out why Team Brutality will dominate this fine federation JB: In spite of what some other "Loop"-y suckas may say. DK: Yes, we can't forget about Supper Scott and Mr. Robinson... two punks who can't handle the heat of the IIWF, so they run in, flash their gaudy high-school wrestling records around, and say they could take this fine organization to the cleaners? Well, I've got news for you, you foul-mouthed, party-crashing punks, I would bet money that ANY team in the IIWF could give you the the beating of your lives. Us, Pain, Inc., heck, I'd even pick the Zodiacs to beat you clowns! At least they try to put up a fight. TD: For once, Lieutenant, I'm forced to agree with you. BH: Mr. Robinson, Mr. Scott... I assure you if you attempt another foul tirade such as that, my men will book you on public obscenity charges. And as for you, Disciples and Zodiacs, just to show the world the true power of the future world champions [she points to Pain, Inc., who raise their arms], why not have a triangle tag match with these men? I'm sure you remember that the last time they were in the ring with you, belts changed hands... MS: It'll happen again. [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: President Spreadbury's office would not confirm it today, but I understand a record amount in fines was assessed for one card after Wednesday's show. It's all part of the new "get tough" policy here in the IIWF. BL: Which translated means the "we need to support the front-office suits' drug habit" policy. Hehe... snort. LM: And you can probably expect to shell out some money for that crack. BL: The front-office suits can shell out money for their own crack! LM: Please! Anyway, Scorpio was hit with a large fine rumored to be in the $100,000 range for his attack on Hellraiser. The High Plains Drifters were hit for a rumored $50,000 for the use of brass knuckles and striking a ring official. And The Cell must also shell out a rumored $100,000 for his attack on the American Patriot. That's a cool quarter-million dollars in fines in one night! No other federation would take such a strong stance against such attacks. BL: No other federation has the addicts we do in the front office. LM: [under his breath] And we may have a new record for fines after tonight's show. Moving on, we saw two previews of Ring Wars III when the madman Joe Petrow decided to display a self-inflicted table shot. BL: Petrow is looney... and he smells bad, too. LM: And we saw a preview of one of the two main event matches for Ring Wars III when the Subway Psycho and Casey James brawled. Creed and Mad Dog Watkins also got involved in that brouhaha... BL: Brew-what-ha? LM: ...leading to tomorrow night's big match involving all four of those individuals. More on that and all the other big matches coming your way tomorrow night in our: ************************************************************************** --------------------- IIWF SATURDAY NIGHT PREVIEW ---------------------- ************************************************************************** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * IIWF UNITED STATES TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP QUARTERFINAL MATCH: ZODIAC CONNECTION vs. PROPHETS OF RAGE ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: We know that Night Patrol and The Harlequins have advanced to the semifinal round of the IIWF United States Tag Team Tournament, and two more teams will advance tomorrow night as we conclude our quarterfinal matches. BL: It's a mystery to me how the Kodiaks... LM: That's _Zodiacs_! BL: ...even got this far with those two blonde bimbos hanging around. You know why the blonde bought a car with a sunroof? More leg room! BWAHAHA... snort. LM: Doesn't your Porsche have a sunroof? BL: Shaddup, you little worm. LM: The Zodiacs certainly seem preoccupied with Pain Inc. and Team Brutality, but the Prophets seem certain that _they_ will advance in the tournament: [SCENE: The Prophets of Rage stand before a black and purple backdrop with their logo on it. Pizzazz stands between them, her long arms wrapped around Derek's shoulder and Shadoe's neck. She smiles into the camera smugly, her exquisite, alabaster face the picture of smugness. Her emerald green eyes flash. Derek dribbles his basketball in slow, hard dribbles, catching it with his fingertips and squeezing before bouncing it again. He's dressed in his short, black boxer's robe, the hood up, so his handsome, brown face is covered in shadows. Shadoe Rage rubs his hands together, his muscles rippling under his fuschia sequined tanktop.] SR: Zodiac Connection, I see your stars. Taurus with Scorpio rising you have entered the 13th House of the Zodiac, the Age of the Rage. And that isn't good news for you. In your future I see the number three as being your bad lucky number. Three... for three-count, because that's the only thing you're ever gonna get out of the Prophets of Rage. P: Bien dit, Shadoe. Derek, continue l'explication. DR: Simple enough even a blind man could see it. We got a clash of two top teams. Zodiacs, we respect your abilities and what you've done so far, but we're smarter, fresher and hotter than you. All said we just want this worse. We got our eye on the prize, the first undefeated U.S. tag-team champions. And that's a bona fide fact. I see a bad moon rising for you. There's no way you're going to survive. The clock's ticking in the low digits until Saturday. Your days are numbered. You're through. Done. It's time for these two new powers to move to the head of the class. And Taurus, Scorpio, it's time you dialed 1-800-W-H-U-P-A-S-S and read your star sign. It'll say: Done and finished. Prophets over Zodiacs. P: We predict it! [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * IIWF UNITED STATES TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP QUARTERFINAL MATCH: COLD SPELL vs. THE HANGMEN ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Our other quarterfinal match pits two teams which must be considered darkhorses in this tournament. I doubt few people would have picked either Cold Spell or the Hangmen to advance this far. BL: I picked both of them. LM: You did not! BL: Did too! LM: Did not! I seem to recall the you picked Team Sychosys to go all the way. BL: Petrow is looney... and he smells bad, too. LM: I think we've established that fact. Let's just hear from Cold Spell: [SCENE: Steve Summer, dressed in a parka, is on a snow-covered beach. As he starts to look around, he gets hit in the side of the head with a snowball. He looks up to see Icehawk and Edmund Fitzgerald of Cold Spell.] SS: Ow!! ICE: [giggling] Hi, Steve! How do you like our training quarters? SS: Are you two crazy? Why did you ask me to interview on the shores of Lake Superior in the middle of February? It's got to be 20 below! ICE: Oh, I'm sorry. Are you cold? I guess when you grow up where I did, this doesn't seem too bad at all. SS: Are you two nervous about making your first appearance on the IIWF's marquee show? Especially in a match as important as a U.S. Tag Team tournament quarterfinal? ICE: I'm sure we'll have butterflies Saturday, but not because we are afraid that we are going to fail. Even veterans like Dan Kauffman or the Subway Psycho have butterflies before they wrestle. When those stop, you might as well quit, because it means you don't care any more. SS: Still, you are giving up a lot of experience to the Hangmen. FITZ: When the referee is counting 1-2-3, he doesn't stop and ask how many matches you have wrestled. We've been watching the Hangmen, and what we have seen is the classic case of a team that has lost their focus. They are worried about many things right now ... we are totally committed to one thing - beating them. We've watched their matches, and we've watched hours and hours of tape, while they've been worrying about some guy who died and another who might have seen it. That gives us all the advantage we will need. Just ask the Arabian Knights. SS: If you do beat the Hangmen, you would face Night Patrol in the semifinals. Any thoughts about that team? ICE: If we aren't worried about two guys with nooses, why would a pair of Mark Furhman wannabes scare us? They... FITZ: [interrupting] We'll start worrying about Night Patrol right after we beat the Hangmen. Not before. SS: And what about the W&W Express? They've been making a lot of noise about wanting another chance at you. ICE: Who? SS: The W&W Express. The team you beat in the first round of the tournament. ICE: Oh! The two fat guys! SS: [exasperated] No, no. That's the Rotundos. The W & W Express... Clark Watson and Doug Wayne. You beat them by DQ a couple weeks ago. Remember? ICE: Oh, the cheaters. Are they even still in the IIWF? The fat guys gave us a better match. Plus they are great cooks! One of them made me some Finnish fish soup last week, and it was just like my grandmother used to make. Now I know how they got so big! SS: But what about the ... oh, never mind. [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * NON-TITLE: MARTY WARNETT vs. EL SUPER GECKO ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: We've heard surprisingly little from El Super Gecko in past weeks. Has he been hurt? BL: Everyone knows you can't hurt the Lizard. I hear from a good source that Gecko was actually jealous of Majestic Maurice McArthur's success as part of "Team Sychosys." It probably didn't help that McArthur flaunted his wins in the locker room. Do you know that little twerp even tried to pick me up? LM: Didn't work, huh? BL: Let's just say he has tire tracks on his foot. LM: Yowch! BL: Yowch indeed. LM: We attempted to get some words from the Gecko earlier, but he only hissed at me and then slammed his door. Fortunately, Marty Warnett was a bit more accommodating. BL: Although he's overlooking the Lizard: [SCENE: The screen dissolves into static, only to be replaced by footage of a rock band in a garage, playing frantic power-chords interspersed with melody. The rhythm guitarist places his Fender Strat down carefully and approaches the camera. It is Marty Warnett.] MW: Well, it's great to see that you, Byron, are taking our bout seriously. This [slaps the IC title belt] deserves the utmost respect -- I want to keep it by beating the best, unlike another fed. I don't plan on meeting a Samoan-Middle Eastern hybrid. This thing between us has been going on for so long, I want to end it, by pinning your over-arrogant, over-pompous, over-bearing, over-rated butt to that Toronto mat for the three count. Byron, you will _respect_ me after this bout. [Cries of "you're the man" from the band] And of course, with a dark cloud hanging over the IIWF in the shape of a few invading individuals, it would be remiss of me to ignore last Saturday night. I'm referring to Mr. Latex, and Mr. Tibbs. Now, other IIWF stars have gotten angry. Me? I'm calm. Why? Because, Super Scott, talk is cheap, and hype is cheaper. You guys ain't no threat, to me, [slaps IC belt] this title or this organization. You ain't got the ability to worry any of the top ten athletes in the IIWF, and you 'excellent' mouth lacks the wit to impress anybody. Go on, why don't you express your desire to open up a can of whoop-ass? [Laughter abounds.] As for the Latex freak, well, Mr. Robinson, rubber melts in extreme heat. Hey, pal, leave the kitchen well alone. Gee, what are you guys, the Poo World Order? [Marty turns to go back to the band, picking up the guitar.] Mr. R, here's a little song just for you... [Marty strums the guitar] It's up to you, missus Robinson, Jesus loves you more than you can know... [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * LORD BYRON vs. NIGHTWING ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Both of these wrestlers have lost something very dear to them lately. BL: Their pride? LM: No. Lord Byron lost his ward, Lady DeWinter, apparently to the young suitor Marty Warnett. Rumor has it that Marty and DeWinter have been seen enjoying each other's company in the trendy Portland nightspots. BL: Like Club 69? LM: Huh? I don't get it. BL: Exactly! LM: But Nightwing is missing his eagle Chiquoit, which was stolen by the evil clown Cheshire two weeks ago. BL: Oh Larry, you think all clowns are evil. LM: They are! And I believe Nightwing is beginning to believe that, too: [SCENE: A rocky precipice nearly 500 feet above a heavily-wooded gorge. Nightwing stands at the edge of the cliff, looking out over the scene below him.] NW: Legends among my people say that a Cherokee brave once threw himself from this cliff after his woman was slaughtered by white settlers. The one thing for which he had lived was no more. I live to bring respect back to my people. That is my one mission and I failed Wednesday night. My people are the protectors of nature, the children of the world. I have been so preoccupied with avenging the loss of Chiquoit that I have let it affect my performance in the ring. But my spirits say "fight," and I do not disobey my spirits. Deathbringer, you are of neither my past nor my future. Chonokto, the Cherokee spirit of death, shall one day come to take me from this earth and I shall welcome him when the great river rises and my time comes. Claim the souls of your white men, Deathbringer, but know that my destiny does not cross your path. Cheshire, you are a much different matter. [The shot widens for the first time to show a large sack hanging from a tree near the edge of the cliff. Nightwing pokes the sack and it suddenly comes to life, writhing and beginning to swing from the branch.] Fighting comes in different forms, Cheshire. My spirits look inside your mind and see only thunderstorms. There is no dichotomy... no balance. Therefore, I shall fight you the only way you can understand. [he pokes the sack again] Tomorrow night, I step into the ring with Lord Byron. Prepare well, your lordship, for I bring the spirit of Chonokto to the ring. Or perhaps you would prefer... your Deathbringer. [Nightwing turns back to the overlook and listens as an eagle cries in the distance. Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Nightwing and Cheshire are headed for a meeting at Ring Wars III if they both survive that long. Cheshire is already issuing warnings to the Native American and a challenge to Nightwing's friend, Highwayman: [SCENE: The camera pans over a dark room. Cheshire is wearing black mafiosi style clothes. He points a gun at the head of an eagle, which is sitting on the back of a chair with a cap on its head which blinds it.] C: Hey, Chickenwing. That was a really stupid move last Saturday. Remember, _I_ am the one who holds _your_ friend hostage. You'd better think twice before you interfere in my matches again. Oh, by the way, I want a rematch against that lucky bleep Highwaydude. And I'll tell you something, Chickenwing, if anyone, ANYONE appears at ringside who does not belong there, hehehe, believe me, Chickenwing, my chef Roland can make an exquisite Poulet Clestine. Yummyum. [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * IIWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH TAKEZO MUSASHI vs. RONNIE PARIS ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Takezo Musashi is proving to be one of the more impressive IIWF Cruiserweight Champions in the history of the league. BL: Yeah, he's a 98-pound ball o' fire. Hehe. LM: Despite his credentials, you have to feel good about what Ronnie Paris has accomplished lately. BL: Let's see, he got his butt kicked by both Spur AND Mr. Damage, and the only successful move he's pulled off in the last two weeks was a takedown on Steve Summer. Oh yeah, I feel REAL good about that. LM: Nevertheless, Ronnie Paris is a third-generation wrestler and one of the rising young stars in our sport. He likes his chances tomorrow night against the "Enigma": [SCENE: Ronnie Paris' familiar gym in El Paso. The mats are all set up, but only Ronnie is practicing on them. He seems to be rolling over again and again, trying to get an imaginary grip just right on some form of suplex. Suddenly, Steve Summer walks into the shot, holding a mic.] SS: Ronnie, this Saturday you have a Cruiserweight Title shot against Takezo Musashi. How do you feel about your chances? [Ronnie stops suddenly, and hops up to his feet. He turns to face Summer, and then begins to speak.] RP: First of all, I'll just say don't worry Steve, I won't pin you again. SS: [under his breath] Damn technical freaks... always trying to pin someone's shoulders... RP: Well, I'd have to say that I'd be the decided underdog going into Saturday Night. I'm not quite sure how my technical style would counter the way Takezo likes to move around. Takezo is a great champion, and it's a honor just to be facing him, so I'll be happy if I make a good showing of myself. SS: [confused] Does this mean that winning the Cruiserweight title is _not_ your primary goal? RP: Obviously, I'd like to be a champion, and that's what I'm going into the match with a mind to do. But, with that said, I realize that it won't be easy at all. I'm not sure if I'm ready to beat Takezo yet, but we're sure as heck going to find out! SS: What will your game plan be going into your first IIWF title match? No demonstrations, please... RP: [slightly annoyed] I wasn't going to... anyway, I figure it's common knowledge that I have to try and keep Takezo grounded, and that he wants the pace to be fast and furious. Now, how I keep him grounded is my secret... he knows what I want to do, but hopefully he'll guess wrong on how I'll do it. SS: What about outside distractions? RP: I know that the White Phoenix has really been a thorn in Takezo's side, and as for me I've had to deal with nuts like Spur, and that phoney Luke Steele. Now, I'm getting used to having screwy endings on Saturday Night's, but "Real Deal", I swear, if you cost me a clean finish to this match like you try to with all my other matches, I'll cost you more than a match. Consider yourself warned, Steele. [Steve glances at his watch, and seems to be shocked by what he sees.] SS: Geez, we have to wrap up! Quickly, what are your thoughts on losing the American Patriot for the Wildcard match at Ring Wars III? RP: You can sub in all the wildcards you want, take a guy away or put a new one in, and one constant remains the same; Ronnie Paris will give 110 percent. That's all I can control, so I'm not going to worry about a mystery partner anymore. [Summer gives the Texan a perfunctory nod, and then quickly turns to face camera.] SS: From the Lone Star state, this is IIWF intern Steve Summer, signing off. [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * IIWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH THE DARK DISCIPLES vs. PAIN INC. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: This would ordinarily be a main event match in any coliseum, but there is added mystery after Hellraiser's injury Wednesday night. Just who will take his place and team with Morningstar? BL: Mr. Mic has a wealth of talent at his disposal. Either of those brave young police officers could fill in for Hellraiser. Maybe we'll see Hades in the ring. Maybe Brenda Hawkings will kick some Disciple butt. You go girl! LM: It must be difficult for the Disciples to concentrate on how to attack Pain Inc. with one of their opponents being a mystery. BL: It's hard for the Dark Disciples to concentrate on breathing. LM: We heard from Mr. Mic and his men earlier, but we do have an interview taped earlier this week -- before Hellraiser's injury. Let's see if it gives us any insight: [SCENE: Gold's Gym, Venice Beach California, in the weight room. Mr.Mic is overseeing a Pain Inc. workout. Morningstar is being suspended upside down as he does upright curls to his knees. Hellraiser is seen pumping iron. He stares straight ahead into the mirror not even blinking an eye. Mr.Mic is grinning from ear to ear as he turns to the camera.] MM: Finally, after so long being denied title shot after title shot. President Dan has finally come to his senses. This Saturday we've got one for the ages. Pain Inc vs. The Dark Disciples for the IIWF World Tag-Team Titles. As I see it, we should already have half those titles because McQueen's Morons wouldn't even be looking at 'em if it wasn't for Pain Inc.! McQueen, you shine those belts up real nice for Hellraiser and Morningstar on Saturday, you get Kane and Wulf ready for the match of their lives. My boys aren't leaving Saturday without those belts. COUNT ON IT!!! As for you McQueen, you're a disgrace to the managerial profession. I have taken it upon myself to personally rid this sport of your ugly persona this Saturday. [He walks right up to the camera] You don't like what I'm saying McQueen? Well, do something about it, I dare ya! You've been walking around here like you're the manager of managers. Lemme tell ya, the king of the managers is here baby and it ain't you... it's me. As for the rest of Night Patrol, don't worry McQueen, they'll all be there. Night Patrol the future IIWF U.S Tag Team champions and Brenda Hawkings. Bring Lau, Bring James. Hell bring anyone you want but bring those belts too 'cause we're takin' them and there's not a damn thing you can do about it! [Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * BRODY THUNDER vs. STEVE KOWALSKI ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Two of the IIWF's top brawlers will square off tomorrow night. Ordinarily, this would be a toss-up, but Steve Kowalski must now battle the Syndicate in addition to Brody Thunder. BL: I never thought I'd see the "Lone Wolf" sign with Brian Lau, but if anyone can spot championship material, it's Lau. LM: And Thunder now has the peace of mind in knowing that Casey James and the Dark Disciples are watching his back. BL: It's a win-win proposition. LM: There's just one problem. The unpredictable Steve Kowalski is involved in this match: [SCENE: A sunny day with a soothing blue sky, clouds marbling the horizon. The playground is full of excited children. Running around, playing on the slides, generally taking in the beautiful weather. A young girl looks up and puts her hand out, as if to catch something. One drop... two drops. The rain starts to fall and the sky becomes black. Thunder is heard in the distance and it is coming closer. The rain, now coming down in sheets, drives the children away. The wind can be heard whipping by, screaming aloud. The playground is all but empty. There is one person, however, who isn't scared away. Lighting flashes, showing the figure of Steve "The Fury" Kowalski.] SK: Thunder only scares children an' I grew up a long time ago, Brody! [The New Jersey Nightmare is forced to yell above the constant booming of thunder. The onyx sky pelts the emerald-eyed eliminator, much to his pleasure. Raising his arms to the blackened sky, he yells.] Bone Wolf, I can only send my sad [BLEEP]'n regards to ya family! 'Cause the next time they see ya, you'll be six feet down. Hangin' with the worms! An' that's just where ya belong! Yer bald noggin' is gonna be painted red, thanks to the SKULLPUMP! Not nobody, no nothing...gonna save yer ass from the FURY! [As if on cue, thunder clap rocks the scene and the blazing shine of lightning strikes. Unflustered, Kowalski continues.] Mother nature's a mean mistress, but not as mean as me! Look at this face! [The Fury is close up to the camera, beads of water streaming down his face but never blinking.] When ya sittin' there in yer dressin' room and the walls are closing in! When the voices in ya head tell ya to run, don't! When I'm standin' over ya and my sweat is drippin' into yer eyes, stingin' ya, jus' let it happen! I promise to make it quick! HA HA HA! [Thunder and lightning explode in unison... fade to black. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Kowalski may also be thinking that Thunder is looking ahead to his Ring Wars III match with Billy Shakespeare. That could give him an advantage. BL: Thunder is a dollar-and-cents man. He knows the paycheck waits after wins. He won't look past "The Fury": [SCENE: Brody Thunder stands on his ranch's porch in southeastern Arizona. He is dressed in faded jeans and a black tank top-style t-shirt. He stares out across the land absent-mindedly. Then he slowly looks into the camera as he begins to speak.] BT: Looks like the Lone Wolf's got a target on his back. First Shakespeare pulls a quick one. And now another guy wants ta jump on my back. Well "Fury"... Newark Nightmare.... The Nut from New Jersey... Steve Kowalski, whatever the hell ya wanna call yerself this week... looks like folks in the front office don't much care 'bout ya. They've had you sign fer a match with the Lone Wolf tomorrow night. Now mebbe ya asked fer it... ...an' mebbe ya didn't. Don't matter. Cuz come tomorrow night yer gonna get that chance ta try an' SKULLPUMP me that ya cried about wantin'. Remember? "He's just beggin' fer it" ya said. Well son..I ain't begged fer nuthin' my whole life,son.... ....'cept now. Now I'm beggin' _you_, Kowalski. I'm beggin' you... to bring yer trailer park trash lovin' carcass down to that ring tomorrow night. An' when that bell rings we both know it ain't gonna be no _wrestlin'_ match. Naw... it's gonna be a _war_. An' any good soldier knows... [Thunder raises his right arm almost into a bicep pose.] ...ya don't go ta war unless yer properly armed. Well Kowalski, believe me,son... if nuthin else... I _am_ properly armed. [Thunder slaps his elbow in mock clothesline fashion.] That brings me to that sneaky, lowdown skunk, Billy Shakespeare. Billy-boy, ya got what ya wanted. We're in yer type o' match just the way ya planned it all along. Only one thing ya didn't plan on, son. An' that's the fact that I ain't comin' ta wrestle ya... ...I'm comin' ta put you outta this sport! Y'see there ain't no money in stompin' yer tail into the mat. I'm doin' this fer free. Ever since I got here ya done nuthin' but be a thorn in my side. Well come Ring Wars, yer wish is gonna come true. Yer facin' me... in _your_ match. But ya oughta be careful what ya wish fer Billy-boy... [Thunder lights up a cigar.] ...cuz sometimes ya just might get it. Be seein' ya, Billy-boy... [Thunder walks into the house and off camera. Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * SPECIAL TAG TEAM GRUDGE MATCH: SUBWAY PSYCHO & CREED vs. CASEY JAMES & MAD DOG WATKINS ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Two different feuds have rolled into one and we may need extra security on hand tomorrow night when these four men step into the ring. BL: Everyone knows the Psycho and Casey James don't like each other. Creed and Mad Dog Watkins won't be exchanging Christmas cards this year, either. LM: The big news is that the "CEO" Jack Montgomery has apparently decided to let Creed learn beside the Psycho this weekend: [SCENE: Midnight in Midtown Manhattan. IIWF cameras capture the bustling street scene of the "city that never sleeps". The congested sidewalks, the bursting nightclubs, the stark juxtaposition of the clothcoated men who sleep in the sewer grates and the sleek long limousines which speed by them. The camera quickly pans up a moderately sized skyscraper, high up to the top floor and the window in which the light of daily business still burns... into the office of "The CEO" Jack Montgomery.] CEO: For everything there is a season. For nearly ten years, I have walked the road with Creed in what, in many ways, has seemed little more than a winter's night. And in some ways an eternity. The eleven-year-old boy who shuffled when he spoke and whose almost haunted expression still wakes me from even the deepest sleep - has now turned into the red gloved rookie whose dominance of the IIWF surprises me not in the slightest bit. But there are some steps that a man must take alone, some paths with only room for one shadow. So, following this Saturday Night, I will step away from Creed's corner. Not permanently, just until such point that it is time to return to business. Business is what I am, business is what I do. In fact, I have taken the opportunity to broker one more agreement that should provide some interest to more than a few members of the IIWF family this Saturday Night. Before I take my brief leave, I have just this thought for Mad Dog Watkins: Not everything is as it seems, Mad Dog. There are matters, forces, that although beyond your control...are not necessarily beyond the control of others. [Montgomery, almost despite himself, slyly smiles]. I tried to warn you, Watkins. Now it's out of my hands. [The camera then falls away from the office and quickly pans down the building, back to street level and then seems to disappear, falling... falling with a THUD to the underground train station below. Now, the images move very rapidly, a sensory bombardment of harshly artificial lighting and the dissonant shrieking of train against track. Faster and faster the images move, the brown suited men burrowing like Skinner-boxed rats from turnstile to train, their constant movement, one after the other, providing a nearly hallucinogenic feel as the trains continue their endless onslaught to and from the station. And then it stops. The sound, the noise, the movement...all gone. Nothing. Then the camera slowly moves to the back of the station, picking up two black trenchcoated figures who come into view as one last painfully slow moving train disappears from the foreground. The two men raise their heads... they are the Subway Psycho and Creed. They stand side-by-side for a moment, allowing the camera to drink in their collective smoldering intensity. Creed then gives a slight but noticeably deferential nod of his head... and then turns around and begins a slow series of one-handed pushups in front of a decrepit brick wall upon which is spray painted only the simple message: "March 22... RW3. Finally."] SP: Now the rules have changed. From two separate battles, one war has now formed. Creed's battle with Watkins is also now mine, as my fight with Casey now also belongs to him. On Saturday we shall all clash... but it will by no means be the end. It will be a preview, an exercise in pain and brutality. Creed and I are in this for the long haul - a union forged not out of necessity, but common philosophies. On Saturday the first lesson is scheduled. [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Wow, it will be difficult for James and Watkins to overcome the intensity those two are showing. BL: You fail to recognize that the Psycho and Creed must also battle the Syndicate. Do you really think this will be a two-on-two fight? Ha! LM: We _do_ know that Brian Lau and Casey James were in Toronto this week. That's the site of Ring Wars III, coming your way March 22 and it is available only on pay-per-view. Call your cable operator today! BL: Just roll the tape: [SCENE: Casey James and Brian Lau walk down a run-down street, littered with trash. A small caption in the corner reads "Kensington Market, Toronto." Graffiti covers the walls they pass by, and open fruit markets are buzzing with people.] CJ: What a dump... BL: Tell me about it. What's that smell? CJ: Torontonians, I'd guess. BL: Oh, my god. Look over there. That man is urinating on himself. [Camera pans around to a homeless man in a doorway, and, yes, he is indeed wetting himself.] CJ: Reminds me of someone. Hey, Subway Psycho? See the resemblance? BL: [laughing] Under the right light, he does look a little like him. Hehe. Anyway, down to business. Viewers at home, we're in Toronto, looking for the training center of a couple of friends of ours. Don't ask me why they chose to live here. CJ: Well, with this crowd as company, they can't look bad, I'll tell you that. BL: Hmpf. Well, never mind. Oh, look, here comes the Psycho. [The homeless man goes staggering by, screaming at pigeons and smearing pieces of watermelon on his face.] CJ: What a piece of work. Speaking of the Psycho, it seems that our little game has turned, hmmm? Now the Psycho's all happy that he's got this little thing that bugs me. Great. Psycho, you can go on and on about my sexuality all you want, but when it comes right down to it, everyone knows I'm more of a man than you are. No matter how many times you try and change the subject, that fact will come shining through. When I get my hands on you under that tower over there [points at the CN Tower], the whole world is going to know who the real man is, and who the whining little sissy is. BL: We don't have to wait that long. Saturday night looks promising. CJ: Hehe. You know, as a champion with a large event looming on the horizon, one finds himself in a Catch 22. If I keep training for Ring Wars, the critics say that I'm looking too far ahead, and not giving my next opponent the respect he's due. If I train for my next opponent, the critics will say I'm fluffing off Ring Wars. See, with this tag match on Saturday, I don't have to worry about that at all. I've been training to face the Psycho, and that's just what will happen as long as he doesn't run away screaming like a little girl. Mad Dog Watkins, a man who I have a lot of respect for, is by my side, taking on the sole member of a second-rate Syndicate... BL: [interrupting] Second? CJ: Okay, fifth-rate Syndicate, Creed. Hey, Creed... Who's your Daddy? [bursts into laughter.] Creed, I've had no problems with you, but don't think for a minute that I'll take it easy on you if we happen to face each other in the ring. And Mad Dog? I may respect you, but I know your style. Cross me, pops, and you'll be in a world of hurt. And Psycho? Get ready to be beaten like a bag lady on Halloween, because I'm just a little too anxious to wait for Ring Wars III to get my hands on you. BL: [looking around with his arms held up] Where the hell is this place!? We've been walking around here forever!! CJ: [to a shopkeeper] Hey, you want to do something about that smell? Jeez, did something die over there!? [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Casey agreeing to team with Mad Dog Watkins intrigues me. There were rumors recently about Lau being interested in adding Watkins to the Syndicate's payroll. BL: That was before Brody Thunder signed on, though. You don't think...? LM: I think you can never trust Brian Lau to have enough cronies in his camp. Mad Dog Watkins will clearly have his mind on Creed, though: [SCENE: The camera starts out with a several views of Detroit: smokestacks filling the sky and adding to the dull grey of the horizon; graffiti-covered walls on the lower east side housing projects; a police chalk outline from days earlier which mars the basketball court where a few neighborhood kids are at play. Finally, the shot switches to a graveyard in a small cemetery located in the heart of the city. The sound of thunder in the distance rumbles over the shot, and a heavy rain begins to pour. The camera slowly pulls tight on the lone figure in the yard who is dressed in all black, barely noticing the rain as it bounces off his leather jacket. Quietly, the low gravely voice of Mad Dog Watkins is heard.] MDW: It's not often that I get to get back to the old neighborhood, much less Detroit, with me being on the road and all. [Mad Dog kneels down to one knee, bows his head in quiet respect, and the camera slowly focuses on the headstone which reads: Thomas Watkins 1934-1979]. You know, I wasn't too crazy when the IIWF asked to come along with me today. What I do for Spreadbury and his boys is business. This... this is personal. [Watkins hesitates, looks up at the sky for a moment, letting the rain soak his face. He then lowers his head and begins to speak again as the rain water slowly drips from his chiseled features.] But sometimes it's hard to separate the two, and this is one of those times. I once thought that the hardest thing I ever to do was to put my old man in the ground, but I think it's harder to come back here and have the ghosts talk to you. I once quit doing what I did best, to take up a job that I didn't have any clue as how to begin doing, much less do with any success. It was easier for this old dog to get in the ring and beat some poor fool from pillar to post than it was to go home and raise my son. But I hung it up and the wrestling world let the name of ol' Mad Dog fade off into the sunset. Until I came back last December, I was just a long lost memory to most... but I was a reality to my son. I came back when he needed me the most. He didn't need to see me on the television, wrestling out of some arena in Sacramento or some bingo hall in Philadelphia. He needed me here in Detroit, day in and day out... to make him a man. So I came home and did what a man had to do -- just like I did when my old man died and left eight kids without guidance. There are too many choices but the only real choice is to suck it up and accept your fate -- even if it feels like a raw deal has been dealt your way. After all, there aren't too many choices when your own son admits he doesn't know who you are. Now there's a nasty bit of info going around that maybe Mad Dog didn't quite fulfill all of his duties. Well, if one thing can be said about the Mad Dog is that I'm a man of my word. And if there is a job to be done, you'll see this old body in the ground before the task goes undone. Maybe it's hard to see the truth because you want something else so badly, or maybe it's because it's the truth that really hurts more than the lies. And we both know the truth, don't we Creed? Your little puppet master doesn't want you to get in the ring at Ring Wars, much less this Saturday with Casey James and me. But you've got voices telling you otherwise. Voices from down deep that speak to the heart and not the head. But be careful which voices you listen to pup... you might not like the road they lead you down. But you do Mad Dog a favor and, no matter which path you choose, you remember this... no offense kid -- it's business AND it's personal. [Thunder rings out as Watkins' words trail off, and the camera fades to black. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * DAN KAUFFMAN vs. JOE PETROW ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Dan Kauffman is just over two weeks away from ending his career at Ring Wars III, but Joe Petrow was an opponent he wanted to face before the end of the road. BL: You don't think all those drinks Petrow's "Sychopaths" have been hurling at Kauffman have anything to do with that, do you? LM: I'm sure that didn't hurt. BL: It hasn't hurt concessions sales at the IIWF Coliseum, either. LM: Well it _has_ given Kauffman additional incentive going into tomorrow night's match: [SCENE: Within the confines of the University of Maryland walks Dan Kauffman, a "Terrapin Basketball" shirt clearly visible. He walks through a corridor, the camera lagging behind. When Dan gets to a double door, he opens them and proceeds to walk into Cole Field House, Maryland's basketball arena. Walking down the stone steps to the court, Kauffman looks back at the camera.] DK: Long time, no see. This place is like a second home to me. [Kauffman gets to the red and light-brown basketball court and walks out to the center, looking around...] Hell, at one time, I wasn't a half-bad basketball player. [Kauffman then reveals a basketball, which he dribbles a little bit before squaring up from behind the three-point line. The shot, with a very high arc, hits the back of the rim and swishes through.] Well would you look at that... [Kauffman turns around to face the camera...] Every now and then, I can still throw strikes. Serge, you are one tough nut to crack. I seemed to forget just how tough. A man forgets tough battles after an amount of time, but it's clear to me that you earned your reputation. Annis, I don't agree with your way of doing things, but since they are effective for you, I find no flaws either. I kind of wish Chris Quigley hadn't shown up... but then, a win is a win, and if Chris had attacked me, you would have claimed the win without any reluctance. So I shall do the same. 'Tis a shame we won't meet again. [Kauffman shoots another three point shot, this time watching as it bounces off the rim, banks off the backboard, hits the front rim again and bounces away.] The bounces don't always fall my way. Joe Petrow, I have no idea what that brain of yours has in mind. But it seems as if the rest of the wrestlers in the IIWF don't understand your one major characteristic... ...you say what you mean. On Monday, you stated that you would _wrestle_ Dan Kauffman. And indeed, Joe Petrow being a man of his word, you will indeed _wrestle_ Dan Kauffman. The question is, will Dan Kauffman wrestle _you_? See Joe, a nice mat war isn't a tragedy... in fact, it is a beautiful art often misunderstood. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to change my style just to suit you, my friend. You're getting ALL of me, not just some amateur wrestlin' version of me. And tell your "Sychos" that if any soda gets in my eyes before OUR match, I'm going to take it out of your hide! Bottom line, Petrow: You want to wrestle, we'll wrestle. If I want to brawl, then we're gonna brawl! [Kauffman shoots a third three, and this one touches nothing but net.] And there are times when I'm so dead on it isn't funny. Chris Quigley, I will always have respect for you. But pal, you are becoming a little too annoying for your own good. Once again, you stick your nose in where it really doesn't belong. Until Ring Wars III, Leave me the hell alone! Is that really too much to ask? [Dan pauses for a second.] Then again, if it isn't you interfering, then it's going to be someone else... Chris, do whatever the hell you want to. But try not to mess with my matches. If I lose every single match before our contest, who cares? I'm preparing for you, Chris, and if I come in with a two or three-match losing skid, I'm still going to be the toughest man you've ever had to wrestle! [Another pause.] On the other hand, you may be the toughest _robot_ I'll ever have to wrestle. [Third pause.] Chris, it seems as if every time you act... every time you talk... every time you even THINK, the same thing gets said. Chris, how many times have you told your fans... your opponents... yourself... that your next match will be the toughest so far, it will be a war, it will be hell in and of itself, but you'll win? How many times? What happened against Lord Byron? What happened against Casey James? What has happened against Otto Verhoeven on two occasions? And yet you pump yourself up by saying the same thing before every match! You've become the biggest fraud in wrestling, Chris. Your whole style has become repetitive. To be honest, it hurts to listen or to watch you anymore. I want to wrestle the REAL Chris Quigley, not some clone that shows up in the ring night in and night out. I want to see what the REAL Chris Quigley has inside of him, not this outer shell you carry around you. I know the outer shell, and at one time, I knew the man. Show me the man again, Chris. I've always told things the way I've seen them, whether popular or not. I've always been an individual who wasn't afraid to speak his mind. I've earned few friends and tons of enemies, but I couldn't live any other way. Chris, if you think I could care about the fans right now, I'm more worried with proving to myself that I am a great wrestler. The fans will stay behind me if they are true fans, as your true fans will. You don't need this repetitive crap. You don't need a cloned statue. I put the Scorpion Deathlock on Serge Annis to get your attention. I say what I do now to get your attention. Change your ways, Chris. Before it's too late. [Kauffman shoots one more three-pointer, which rattles in and out...] Looks as if my happy ending will have to wait... [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ************************************************************************** ------------------ SPECIAL LIVE INTERVIEW: TIGER CLAW ------------------- ************************************************************************** LM: Tiger Claw has almost dropped out of sight since he suffered a broken leg at the hands of Casey James. He's helping the Subway Psycho prepare for Ring Wars III, which... BL: ...which is a handicap for the smelly one. Let's get this stupid interview over with. [Cut to a split-screen with Larry and Becky on the left and static on the right. It slowly clears to reveal Tiger Claw sitting on a sofa.] LM: Via satellite from his apartment, we have Tiger Claw with us live. Claw, thanks for being with us. TC: Not a problem, Larry. BL: Hey, Flaw, you've been pretty quiet lately. Thinking of retiring? TC: No, Pecky, I'm not. I'm a man of action. Many people know that I don't have much use for theatrics. I just get into the ring, and I do what I love. Since I am injured, I can't exactly get into the ring. As a result, I've been a little scarce. BL: Scared of what? TC: No, Becky, _scarce_. Not around a lot. Most of my time has been spent training the Subway Psycho for his match at Ring Wars III. LM: Let's talk about that, Claw. What do you have planned? TC: I'm sorry, Larry, but I'd rather not get into that. The Psycho and I don't want to show our hands too early. We both know how the Syndicate works, and if they knew our plan, they'd tear us apart. LM: Understandable. Claw, Ring Wars III will be the first IIWF pay-per- view special that you haven't been a part of. How do you feel about that? TC: Well, I can tell you that I'm not very happy about not being in a Ring Wars III match. I assure you, though, that I _will_ be a part of the card, and that part will become obvious when the Subway Psycho wins the IIWF World Heavyweight title. BL: Hey, Flaw, is it true that you're just faking this broken leg because you're afraid to face Casey James in the ring? TC: I've never faked anything in my life, Pecky, although I hear that you once made a career out of it. I'm not afraid of Casey James. I was his teacher. I know everything he knows, and a lot more. He could never beat me. BL: He broke your leg, chump. TC: He was lucky. LM: Is it possible that the student has surpassed the teacher, Claw? TC: No. I still see Casey's matches, and he hasn't learned anything new since I've been gone. Without me, he's stagnant. If I were well, I'd put him in his place. Unfortunately, that will have to wait. LM: When will we see you back? TC: The doctors tell me that as long as there are no complications, I should be able to get the cast off shortly after Ring Wars. I can already put weight on my foot, and even walk on it with the aid of a crutch, so I'm feeling fairly positive. LM: Well, Claw, we're all wishing you a speedy recovery. BL: Not me... TC: Thanks, Larry. Goodbye, now. [Cut back to full-screen of Larry and Becky.] ************************************************************************** --------------------------- IIWF TRASH TALK ---------------------------- ************************************************************************** LM: As we approach Ring Wars III, the war of words continues to heat up between Billy Shakespeare and Brody Thunder. BL: Thunder'll kill the little twerp. LM: I wouldn't be so sure. Shakespeare is noted for his mind games and then finding a way to pull out a victory against bigger men. The mind games have obviously begun: [SCENE: Backstage Wednesday Night. Billy Shakespeare returns from his victory in the ring. He is tired and sweating and trying to work out a kink in his shoulder from lifting the massive NavCom. He is about to head into the locker room when he sees Steve Summer with the camera waiting to interview someone else. Billy grabs the mic and steps into the camera's eye.] BS: "True nobility is exempt from fear; more can I bear then you dare execute." Read that in Henry VI, Brody Thunder. You've seen that I can do the execution when it counts. It's not to hard to learn the lines of a bit player... do you have what it takes to play the part of a star? "Let the end try the man," Thunder. Thanks Steve, I see the Clearasil is working wonders. [He hands the mic back to Summer and ducks into the locker room. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Steve can't get a break. BL: Shakespeare will have multiple breaks when Thunder is finished with him. That's if Billy boy's other enemies don't get to him first: [SCENE: Spur reclines in a chair somewhere in the IIWF offices. He pats a damaged chair which sits in a twisted mass at his side] S: How do you like it, Ronnie Paris? Originally, I thought that I might pick your buddy Steele to fight you. Oh, it was an elaborate scheme, but then I thought "Hey, Mr. Damage wants to pound on you, so why not let him?" But Damage, you lost your focus. I had to wake you up a little. And Steele, you don't want to meet me in the ring, so why do you keep pretending that you do? Stop fooling yourself man. And Paris, have you had enough? There's plenty more where this came from. [He lifts the chair as a reminder.] I got something to add: There is one wrestler in this fed who needs a friend. A guy who is trying to get it all together. But every time he asks for a chance to redeem himself, he gets shot down by... Billy Shakespeare. So, hey, Stud Stetson, if you want to finish off our common enemy, gimme a call. [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: It's clear that many of the stars in the IIWF are already beginning to look ahead to Ring Wars III. In just two weeks, we'll be bringing you the preview show LIVE from Toronto with interviews from all the stars. BL: Yeah, yeah, tune in and buy the PPV. Let's hear from Otto Verhoeven: [SCENE: Otto Verhoeven and Nurse Heidi are sitting in front of a large TV screen in their high-tech gym in the basement of the German embassy. Heidi is massaging Verhoeven's shoulders as frozen shots of Ronnie Paris, "Superstar" Stud Stetson and Randy Acorn appear on the screen.] OV: In ordnung, meine liebe. The IIWF has asked me to evaluate my opposition in the Wild Card-match... NH: [smiling into the camera] ...vich takes place at Ring Vars III, March 22nd, in the Toronto SkyDome. OV: [irritated] Dross told you to do that, didn't he? Whatever, let's take a look at the poor fools who have to face me and my teammates. [screen shows Randy Acorn walking down the aisle with his Cruiserweight title] A former champion, and the master of the sneak attack. NH: You have to bevare his surprises. OV: Bah, look at that poor idiot. What has he done in recent weeks, or even months? Nothing impressive. He even seems to begin to like the American crowd... the "Badboy" of old has grown soft. I am sure that a ruthless power-wrestler like the Hangman, one of the most vicious men in the business, can take him out easily. [The screen now shows Ronnie Paris executing the Texas Twister on "Nifty" Ned Norton.] NH: Oh, the vimp is next. OV: Ja. The ultimate rookie. Paris looks just like the scrawny neighborhood paperboy. But he is a pretty good mat-wrestler and takes his stuff serious, and that makes him somewhat of a minor threat. NH: Vat? You cannot be serious. He is veak, small and possessed by typical American arrogance. OV: Naturlich, you are right. But we won't make the mistake of underestimating my opposition in such an important match. No Paris could mean some trouble, but I am 100 percent sure that Mr. Damage is capable of dealing with, as he has done in the past. NH: The "Antipodean Athlete" is an advantage for our team. OV: I agree with you. If you are looking for pure wickedness, just go to Damage. [On the screen appears the frozen shot of Stetson brawling with Verhoeven on a recent Wednesday War Room.] NH: Oh, that vas a bad night for you. You vere distracted, right, not in top form? OV: I underestimated that bum and he proved that he still has a good fight in him. I enjoyed that match. There are not many Americans who can keep up with me in a brawl, but at Ring Wars III, he will not be that lucky. I intend to be the one to bring the former "Superstar" down, slam him right through my knee with a Slaughterslam! Stetson is doomed. He may be the most skilled wrestler on the opposing team but that just makes that American pig a more interesting prey. [Verhoeven takes a remote control and turns the TV off.] OV: And now there is the mystery opponent. I knew that the Patriot didn't have it in him to survive in the IIWF for long. Who will Spreadbury assign for the PPV? Perhaps some surprise, big-name newcomer? Another rookie? Somebody who isn't already included in the line-up? Whoever is chosen to compete in place of the American Patriot is going to suffer some serious wounds in the actual match, because the German Juggernaut intends to win that match... by any means necessary! NH: You better believe that. [Fade to black. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Verhoeven will obviously be a large part of Ring Wars III, as will Deathbringer, who will lock up with Highwayman, Requiem and Serge Annis in a "Dead Man Rising" match. BL: Is that why they call them "stiffs"? LM: Er, I don't think so. But Deathbringer is planning to prove that he is indeed the best of the walking dead: [SCENE: The mortuary. The camera shows the same location as always, however something looks strange. At a second glance, the hall is illuminated by an unusual red light apparently coming from a door against the back wall which leads further into the stone structure. The camera moves towards that door, which is opened a little bit, but just before the camera is able to shoot into the room, a gloved hand becomes visible which reaches for the camera and blocks the view. As the hand is removed, the door closes and Deathbringer stands in front of it. The camera slowly moves back and Deathbringer walks over to the old wooden table while talking in his growling voice.] DB: The secrets that lie behind that door are none of your business, mortals. And they have nothing to do with what I want to talk about right now. [Deathbringer has reached the table and takes a seat behind it. On top of the table is a skull, impaled by a torch. Deathbringer raises his right hand and the torch begins to burn, casting sinister-looking shadows at the walls.] I have some things to say tonight, but time ... there is that mortal invention again... is short as you would say and I will try to make this short, too. [Deathbringer pauses, as if collecting his thoughts and then continues] First a few words to you, Serge Annis: I am certainly not looking past you. I did not look past anybody and I _will_ not look past anybody. If there is one mistake that I have never made before, it is looking past somebody. Believe me, Annis, you have my full concentration, and this is not good news for you at all. Secondly you say that my mind games most certainly do not work on a mad man. I just wonder why you mention this at all then? If they do no disturb or even scare you, then I really do not know what you complain about. And as for those roses of yours: What are they good for? Some kind of mind game? Remember your own words: Will they work for a _dead_ man? I doubt it. [Deathbringer looks down for a few seconds, then looks into the camera again] Then again, keep on sending them. That way I do not have to gather them myself. [Deathbringer laughs in his diabolical way for a few seconds, then continues.] The second one I would to like to address is you, Highwayman. We have not met before here in the IIWF and that is mainly because you remind me that even I am not flawless. But your resurrection has been tolerated by me far too long. You will certainly understand that it is my duty to take you back to the dark side, where your soul will finally come to a rest. This is nothing personal. But being buried at a crossroad shall be no reason for anyone to return to his mortal life. Nobody deserves that kind of a punishment. Certainly you will struggle against your liberation, so take this advice from me: Make it easy for yourself and simply follow my voice, which will _finally_ take you home. Believe in my power... and obey the Reaper. [Deathbringer stands up and walks around the table. Some shelves have been fixed to the wall and on top of one of it lies an old violin. Deathbringer picks it up and begins to play. The music that emerges from the instrument sounds different than anything ever heard before. It sounds cold at first, then at the next second turns into a sad ballad, only to change to a fascinating symphony a few seconds later. After about twenty seconds, Deathbringer stops playing and places the instrument back on the shelf.] Requiem, you are the third man whom I will meet in the "Dead Man Rising" match. You say that I consist of pure evil and that you are out to destroy just that kind of evil which I represent. Requiem, you misjudge my behavior. I once told Tim Dross that I am on a crusade, a crusade in the course of which I try to lead sinners back onto the right path. As a matter of fact it seems as if we have the same goal... we just try to solve our task by other means. If you look at me and see an evil creature that tries to destroy good souls, then you just look at my mortal body, which is merely a wrapper. The real being, that goes by the name of Deathbringer lies within this wrapper and it is different from what you think of me. Requiem, I am more than sure that the two of us combined could finally solve the task and eradicate all evil from this earth. However as long as creatures like us continue to fight each other, the evil will dwell and it will spill poison wherever it appears. Is that what you want? It is not what I want. [Deathbringer walks towards the door to the outside, opens it and looks towards the graveyard. He turns his head back to the camera] IIWF, the sin war has started and it is about time for the king of destruction to regain what rightfully belongs in his hands. Wrestlers of the IIWF, prepare to meet your maker. [With these words Deathbringer steps to the outside and closes the door behind him. Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: I didn't realize Deathbringer could play the violin. BL: I wonder if he knows "Turkey in the Straw"? We could use him at the next square dance at the Thunder Ranch. Hehe. LM: There's a mental picture I could do without. Moving on, we've finally made contact with Domination, who have a title match with the Dark Disciples at Ring Wars III. BL: Assuming the Disciples are still the champs. LM: I think Domination hope the Disciples have the belts because they'd like to prove a point to Wulf and Kane: [SCENE: Standing in front of the IIWF logo are Mistress, Monster and "Perfect" Dani Jarvier, better known as Domination.] MI: People are asking. DJ: What are they asking? MI: They`re asking why we haven`t been heard from recently. DJ: They really want to know. MI: They do. DJ: They should know already if you ask me. They should pay attention. MI: Well, we hadn't actually told anyone. DJ: Porters Cup. That`s where we have been. Specialist training for the upcoming tournament, representing the IIWF. MI: We've got the title shot at Ring Wars III, so we figured why risk our bodies here in the IIWF tag-scene when we could be bringing glory to the fed? So we've got time off, preparing for the Porters Cup. MO: Roaaaarrgghhhh. MI: Yes, and the World title match against Dark Disciples. We've been studying you non-stop. We know you better than we know ourselves. We know your weakness, and we know your strengths. DJ: Strengths we will turn into weaknesses. MI: Fact is, we are going to be the champs. We will be untouchable. [Oak enters the scene and whispers in Mistress' ear. She nods and follows him off screen] DJ: Nothing will stop us this time Kane & Wulf...NOTHING! HAHAAAAHAHAAAAA! MO: ROAAAAAAARRRRRRRR [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Domination and the Dark Disciples are at the top of their games right now, which is where the Armed Forces would like to return. BL: That's nothing a squirrely little manager with a three-wood wouldn't fix. LM: Nav and Def want to prove that they can be successful without Aaron and his golf clubs. They've also gone back to their roots. BL: If Gemini did that, they wouldn't be blondes anymore. Hehee...snort. LM: I'm talking about their roots in Omaha! Take a look: [SCENE: SAC Air Force Base, Omaha, Nebraska. The Armed Forces, NavCom and DefCon, are the guests of honor, sitting in chairs on a makeshift stage while their camouflage-clad buddies cheer loudly. Nav and Def are both wearing suits. The familiar song, "Hail to the Chief" plays in the background. It dies down, and DefCon steps up to the right podium. The crowd pops.] DC: Hello, Omaha! It's great to be back home after a long time away. [NavCom gets up and takes the left podium.] DC: We've fallen on some really hard times as of late, and we're looking to rebound. We want to win matches, and we don't care who we face. NC: Right now we realize that we're not doing well. Not well at all. DC: But we've got the same attitude now that we had when we came into the fed. We're gonna pay our dues, get some wins, get some respectability, and _then_ go after the IIWF World Tag Team Championships again! NC: This respect which we need to regain may come from anywhere. Pain, Inc... you know we're after you. Night Patrol, Drifters, it doesn't matter who. If you're in the way, we'll beat you 1-2-3... it's the American way! [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ************************************************************************** --------------------- LATEST IIWF SINGLES RANKINGS --------------------- ************************************************************************** ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Name F/H Fought W L D Win% Ranking (old) new ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Casey James H 33 21 10 2 67% (WC) WC Marty Warnett F 32 21 11 0 66% (IC) IC "Enigma" Takezo Musashi N 25 19 6 0 76% (CW) CW ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Highwayman F 5 4 1 0 80% (1) 1 Deathbringer H 29 21 5 3 78% (2) 2 Mad Dog Watkins H 8 6 2 0 75% (3) 3 Steve Kowalski H 15 11 4 0 73% (5) 4 Lord Byron H 18 13 5 0 72% (4) 5 The White Phoenix F 18 12 5 1 70% (6) 6 Creed N 10 7 3 0 70% (7) 7 Dan Kauffman H 29 19 8 2 69% (8) 8 Billy Shakespeare F 33 22 10 1 68% (10) 9 Otto Verhoeven H 26 17 8 1 67% (11) 10 Brody Thunder H 15 10 5 0 67% (12) 11 Subway Psycho F 29 18 9 2 66% (15) 12 Chris Quigley F 22 14 7 1 66% (9) 13 "Sychosys" Joe Petrow N 8 5 3 0 63% (16) 14 Dirt Dog Unique Allah N 13 8 5 0 62% (18) 15 Serge Annis N 9 5 3 1 61% (17) 16 Mr. Damage H 26 14 12 0 54% (19) 17 The Sandman F 29 15 14 0 52% (20) 18 Venusian Death Cell H 18 9 9 0 50% (22) 19 Stud Stetson H 14 6 6 2 50% (23) 20 Cheshire H 10 5 5 0 50% (21) 21 "Badboy" Randy Acorn H 8 4 4 0 50% (26) 22 Nightwing F 6 3 3 0 50% (13=) 23= "Real Deal" Luke Steele F 6 3 3 0 50% (13=) 23= Ronnie Paris F 9 4 5 0 44% (24) 25 The Hangman H 15 5 7 3 43% (25) 26 American Patriot F 9 3 6 0 33% (27) 27 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Requiem F 3 2 0 1 83% (28) 28 Spur H 4 1 3 0 25% (29) 29 ------------------------------- injured -------------------------------- Tiger Claw H 42 22 18 2 55% (-) - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ************************************************************************** -------------------- LATEST IIWF TAG TEAM RANKINGS --------------------- ************************************************************************** ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Name of team F/H Fought W L D Win% Ranking (old) new ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Dark Disciples H 11 7 3 1 68% (WT) WT ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Harlequins N 6 5 1 0 83% (1) 1 Rising Sun Revolution F 16 11 5 0 69% (2) 2 The Armed Forces H 27 17 9 1 67% (3) 3 Domination F 9 5 2 2 67% (4) 4 The Hangmen H 17 9 6 2 63% (6) 5 High Plains Drifters H 29 17 11 1 60% (5) 6 G.W.R. N 12 7 5 0 58% (7) 7 The Zodiac Connection F 18 10 9 0 56% (8) 8 Pain Inc. H 18 9 8 1 53% (9) 9 The Alphabet Boys F 16 7 7 2 50% (10) 10 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Prophets of Rage H 4 4 0 0 100% (11) 11 Cold Spell F 3 3 0 0 100% (12=) 12= Night Patrol H 3 3 0 0 100% (12=) 12= W & W Express H 4 2 2 0 50% (14) 14 ------------------------------- on leave ------------------------------- The Players' Club F 14 6 8 0 43% (12) - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ************************************************************************** ---------------------- UPCOMING IIWF PROGRAMMING ----------------------- ************************************************************************** LM: Fans, we know you'll be with us tomorrow night for what promises to be a great card. Call the IIWF Hotline on Sunday for the latest news and rumors, and don't forget to tune in Monday for "IIWF Monday Musings." "Inside the IIWF" comes your way every Tuesday, followed by "Wednesday War Room" and then "IIWF Classics" rounds out our programming week. BL: No rest for the weary. LM: Until next time, this is Larry Morton for Becky LaRue wishing you all a good night. [The remote camera zooms back up the aisle. A man wearing an "I'm a Sychopath" t-shirt hurls a soft drink at the teens wearing "Loop Feds 4 Life" t-shirts. The credits roll past too quickly to read. 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+