##### ###### ### ########## ########## ########## #### ## ########## ########## ########## #### # #### ######## ##### ##### #### ## ##### #### #### #### #### ### #### #### #### #### ############# ######### #### #### ########### ######### #### #### #### #### #### ######### ######### ### #### #### ######### ######### ### ## #### ######## ######## ## # #### =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ## =-=-=-= INTERNATIONAL INTERNET WRESTLING FEDERATION =============================================== S + A + T + U + R + D + A + Y N + I + G + H + T ----------------------------------------------- + LiVE! + IIWF Coliseum, Portland, Oregon + + 8 March, 1997 + [The opening graphics fade through to interior shots of the jam-packed IIWF Coliseum. Fans wave hand-made banners and clamour to get in shot as the camera pans down past row upon row of folks both young and old, many wearing official IIWF merchandise, particularly Ring Wars III t-shirts. Fireworks erupt in the rafters to a big pop as the shot cuts to Tim Dross and "Soundbite" Steve Roberts, standing at the ringside announcers' table:] TD: Welcome everybody to the IIWF Coliseum! Welcome everybody to another live and loud edition of IIWF Saturday Night, the hottest two hours of wrestling action anywhere on the planet! I'm Tim Dross, and beside me as always is my broadcast colleague, "Soundbite" Steve Roberts. SR: The finest damned announcer in this sport, regardless of what sore losers in two-bit regional promotions would have you believe. TD: Er... whatever, Steve. Fans, we're now only two weeks away from Ring Wars III, the IIWF's most exciting pay-per-view event to date, and the top athletes will be slugging it out here tonight as they gear up for the matches of their lives in the Toronto Skydome. Our main event tonight teams the Subway Psycho and Creed against the IIWF World Heavyweight Champion, Casey "Blackheart" James, and Mad Dog Watkins. What a match that's going to be! SR: I don't know why Creed is aligning himself with that loser, the Subway Stinker, Dross. TD: We've got the final two second round matches in the IIWF United States Tag Team Championship Tournament coming your way tonight, as Cold Spell battle the Hangmen, and former World Tag champs, the Zodiac Connection, go up against the Prophets of Rage. SR: The Hangmen and the Prophets are going to march through to the semi-finals, Dross. TD: We'll see about that, Steve. Other matches coming your way tonight also include Dan Kauffman facing "Sychosys" Joe Petrow -- who knows what to expect in _that_ match -- Brody Thunder taking on Steve "the Fury" Kowalski, and IIWF World Tag Team Champions, the Dark Disciples, defending against Pain Inc. SR: Half of Pain Inc., to be exact, Dross. TD: Indeed. Hellraiser was injured at the hands of Scorpio of the Zodiac Connection in midweek, so Morningstar will have to find another partner for the title match tonight. SR: It's a conspiracy, I tell you. Pain Inc. finally get a World title shot, and three days beforehand, one of the team gets injured. That can't be a coincidence, Dross. TD: I think you're overstating the case somewhat, Steve Roberts. The athletes of the IIWF push themselves to the limit each and every night in pursuit of gold and glory -- every so often, injuries are bound to occur. SR: Something smells fishy, Dross, and although it could just be your cologne, I don't think so... TD: Also coming up on tonight's show: Becky LaRue will be talking with Brenda Hawkings in her Lair, and the IIWF President will be on hand with some more announcements concerning Ring Wars III, plus an update on the rumoured legal proceedings being taken against the so-called "loop" leagues for the actions of two of their wrestlers here in the IIWF last Saturday Night. SR: Personally, Dross, I hope those two losers turn up here again tonight so we can send guys like Thunder, Kowalski and Watkins out to show them how _real_ athletes wrestle. TD: Coliseum security has been stepped up this week, Steve, and I don't think we'll be seeing any appearances from the "loop"ers here tonight. SR: Shame. TD: Later on tonight, I will also have the honour of revealing just who will be the IIWF's representative in the upcoming inter-federational Superstar Summit, which will be taking place in the first week of April at Wembley Stadium, London, England. But before all that, let's get up to the ring for tonight's opening encounter -- the British blueblood, Lord Byron, battles the Native American, Nightwing. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Lord Byron vs. Nightwing -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= WRITER: DK [The crowd applauds as the coloured beams cast by the lighting rig above the ring spin out over the stands. Sparkplug Lee steps into the squared circle and raises his microphone:] RA: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Lancashire, England, he weighs in at 265 pounds, this is LORD BYRON! [The crowd jeers loudly as Byron appears at the head of the aisle, and walks calmly down to the ring. No expression is visible on Byron's face.] SR: Byron means business here tonight, and that spells trouble for the Native American goofball Nightwing. As far as I know, this goof is STILL fuming at the repossession of his little feathered friend by Cheshire. It's a stupid bird! TD: You know full well that Chiquois represents the Native American side of Nightwing, and Cheshire had no right to steal him from Nightwing. Cheshire will have his hands full when Nightwing gets him... Nightwing practically decapitated Cheshire last weekend. SR: After Cheshire had allready wrestled. Nightwing will get his, and even before Cheshire dishes it out, Lord Byron will give this goof some bruises right here! TD: Undoubtedly, Byron is capable of that feat. Nightwing has a real test in front of him, and with his mind on Cheshire, this will be a tough task for Nightwing to overcome. ["Native Son" by Byron Adams starts playing, and the crowd comes to life as the arena dims...] RA: And his opponent, from Cherokee, North Carolina, weighing 235 pounds, please welcome NIGHTWING! [The crowd comes to its feet as Nightwing appears at the head of the aisle. He holds a white lab coat and a pair of glasses up high...] SR: Wait a minute! That's Dr. Hinterhalt's outfit! What in the world is Nightwing doing with it? TD: I have no idea. This is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you or anyone else... SR: This better not mean what I think it means... [As Nightwing enters the ring, Lord Byron scoping him out, Cheshire comes flying down the aisleway pointing at the white lab coat and glasses! Nightwing turns around as Cheshire enters the ring screaming at Nightwing! The word "kidnapped" is clearly heard...] SR: I can't believe this! Nightwing kidnapped Dr. Hinderhalt! TD: It certainly appears that way... SR: Nail him, Cheshire! [Before Cheshire has a chance to conmpletely unload on Nightwing and vice versa, the Jobber Justice Squad, led by "Nifty" Ned Norton, fly into the ring and drag Cheshire away, meeting plenty of resistance. As Cheshire exits the ring, he shouts at Nightwing some more.] TD: What a way to start this match off... It appears that Nightwing is so frustrated with the loss of Chiquoit that he's kidnapped Cheshire's manager! SR: All over a stupid feathered fowl. TD: [pause] That's one way of stating it, I suppose. [As Nightwing watches Cheshire depart, Lord Byron comes up from behind and immediately takes him down with a waistlock, into a wrenching side chinlock...] SR: But now Nightwing is going to have to wrestle one of the best technical wrestlers alive today... [Byron switches into a body-scissors submission while keeping the chinlock on, wrenching the neck area and causing Nightwing to struggle towards the ropes. Byron releases his grip at the four-count, and Nightwing gets to his feet, looking warily across the ring at Byron. Nightwing walks towards him and tries to lock him up, but Byron ducks the collar attempt and takes Nightwing's legs out before yanking on a modified headlock, putting pressure under the chin. Nightwing rises to his feet and lifts Byron up, but Byron switches in midair, shifts his weight, falls forward, and snap-mares Nightwing over, and into a head-scissors...] TD: Is there anything Byron doesn't know how to do? SR: Actually, there is... He doesn't know how to lose. [Nightwing, frustrated by the offense of Byron, uses some power to maneuver to his feet while his head is still stuck in the scissors, then flips over the top and has Byron pinned! 1 -- Byron rotates and gets Nightwing back to the mat back first... 1 -- Nightwing continues the rotation and winds up in the origional position, pinning Byron... 1 -- Byron bridges up, then rolls Nightwing into an over the shoulder crucifix... 1 -- 2 -- KICKOUT! Nightwing is up fast, and kicks Byron in the gut as he gets up. Nightwing then suplexes Byron to the mat! POP! Nightwing locks on a tight chinlock, but Byron rotates into the move and back suplexes Nightwing to excape! Byron then goes back into the head-scissors...] TD: Byron is focusing him submissive style on the neck and shoulder area of Nightwing. If Nightwing doesn't find a way to speed the tempo up soon, he's going to be in a world of trouble! SR: Byron knows how to bend an opponent to his breaking point, and he executes well. That's key in this type of match. [As Byron continues to aplly pressure on Nightwing's neck, Marty Warnett appears, Intercontinental Championship in tow, in the crowd at ringside. The fans react to Marty's appearance with a loud pop, and Byron looks out of the ring and spots him. Byron simply grins, then concentrates on a Nightwing that is slowly inching towards tghe ropes... Nightwing extends a leg out and hooks them, and Byron breaks the count at four. Byron brings Nightwing out to center ring, then attempts a belly-to-belly suplex. Nightwing shifts his weight, spins out of the move, then sends a stinging knifeedge chop out that rocks Byron! Another chop sends Byron reeling into the corner! A third staggers Byron, and Nightwing closes with a HUGE lariat into the corner! Byron falls to his back on the canvas, and Nightwing is fired up!] TD: This is the tempo change that Nightwing needed badly, now he needs to capitalize on it! SR: Why did Walnut have to show up? Everything becomes so much less fun when he's around. TD: _Warnett_ is simply taking a look at Byron in preparation for his IC Title Defense. What's wrong with that? SR: The guy smells bad. TD: He does not, Steve. SR: Oh, it's you, then, is it, Dross? [Byron has staggered up and right into a textbook Northern Lights Suplex of Nightwing! 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! Nightwing brings Byron back up and whips him off the ropes, but Byron ducks a clothesline attempt, then changes a side suplex attempt into a spinning head-scissors roll! Byron then grabs Nightwing's leg, grapevines it, then bridges back! Before Byron can complete the Aristoclutch, Nightwing grabs the ropes, forcing Byron to abandon the attempt...] TD: This match was close to being over right there! SR: Is Byron sneaky quick or what? [As Nightwing gets to his feet, Byron actually runs off the ropes and hits a cross-body block! 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! Nightwing is sufficiently stunned to the point where Byron can perform a quick jawbreaker, putting Nightwing on the mat in pain! Byron then rolls to the outside, where him and Warnett engage in a shouting match!] TD: This is a mistake, Roberts! Byron should be concentrating inside the ring! Not on Warnett! SR: Oh, Nightwing is out on the canvas, Dross! Byron knows what he's doing... [As Byron continues to jaw with Warnett, Cheshire screams back down the aisleway, still enraged with the apparent kidnapping of Dr. Hinderhalt! The Jobber Justice Squad is still all over Cheshire, but Cheshire still gets in a few more choice words at ringside as Nightwing starts to get to his feet. As Byron continues to jaw with Warnett, Nightwing reaches over the ropes and grabs Byron by the hair, pulling him back up onto the apron! Nightwing prepares to bring Byron over the hard way...] TD: He's going to suplex him back into the ring! SR: We've got a lot of confrontations at ringside, Dross. This thing could break down at any minute! TD: Byron is up for the ride! [As Byron is lifted up by Nightwing, he hooks his feet on the underside of the top rope, causing Nightwing to fall back with Byron on top, his feet still on the top rope! 1 -- 2 -- 3! The ref turns around, but not in time to see Byron's feet on the ropes as Byron makes a hasty retreat out of the ring!] SR: Byron wins! What a clever move that was! TD: It was a tainted win! Warnett can't believe that that pin is going to stand! But it looks as if he's simply going to exit ringside. Nightwing is furious! SR: Shut up, you Native American wuss. TD: Cheshire is still surrounded bu the Jobber Justice Squad shouting at Nightwing, Nightwing is shouting back, and Byron heads up the aisle with a quick win! Warnett looks a bit unsatisfied as he walks out of the crowd... These are four men who will take it to each other in just two weeks at Ring Wars III. SR: And Cheshire will devour Nightwing while Lord Byron takes his rightful place as IIWF Intercontinental Champion. TD: We'll see about that, Steve Roberts. Okay, fans, without further ado, let's take another step closer to the crowning of the IIWF's first ever IIWF United States Tag Team Champions with the second pair of quarter-final tournament matches. First up, former tag champs the Zodiac Connection battle the dangerous Prophets of Rage. SR: And we're gonna see blood, Dross. I can feel it -- taste it, almost. TD: I worry about you sometimes, Steve. Let's get straight back up to the ring. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- IIWF UNITED STATES TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT MATCH: -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Zodiac Connection vs. Prophets of Rage ---------------------------------------------------------- WRITER: JB [Sparkplug Lee brushes crumbs off his powder blue tuxedo, and speaks] SL: This following contest is a quarterfinal match in the IIWF United States Tag Team Tournament and scheduled for one fall. ["East 1999" hits the first few beats, leading the crowd into a massive face pop!] Introducing first, from Hollywood, California, at a total combined weight of 575 pounds, Scorpio, Taurus... THE ZODIAC CONNECTION! TD: Where are the Zodiacs? I don't see them down the aisle. SR: Uh-oh, Dross, look out below! [Crowd lets out a shocked pop as Scorpio and Taurus drop via parachute from the ceiling, landing in the ring.] TD: Oh, my! A daredevil entrance by the former Tag Champs! SR: The Zodiacs must've REALLY lost it now, Dross! Only an absolute fool would try to parchute from a height of less than 500 feet! Say, where's Gemini? TD: You've got me there, Steve... This match could mean a title chance for the Zodiacs, so you have to wonder where their top supporters are. SL: And their opponents, now entering the ring [The Death March plays, causing a terrified pop], accompanied by Pizzazz and Medusa Rage, at a total combined weight of 573 pounds, from Halifax, Nova Scotia, Derek Rage and Shadoe Rage, THE PROPHETS OF RAGE! [Heel pop rises as The Prophets rush into the ring, with Derek and Taurus slugging it out, while Shadoe clobbers Scorpio with a steel chair as the referee separates the two bigger men. TD: What a blatant cheap shot! This match is already out of control! SR: Yeah! What a great start to this match! [Scorpio limps to his corner as Shadoe returns his his. After several punches traded, Taurus locks up with Derek, pushing him into the ropes. The referee calls for a clean break and gets one.] TD: Remember, fans, we're only two weeks away from Ring Wars III, the premier wrestling event of the year! You could see one of these teams her crowned the new U.S. champions! Call your cable company now! SR: Watch the match, Dross... you might learn something. [Derek holds his hands up as if to challenge Taurus to a test of strength. Taurus accepts, which Derek reponds to with a Northern Lights Suplex! Heel pop!] TD: Northern Lights Suplex, and a beauty! SR: You know, Tim, in my day when we faked the test of strength, we'd just kick 'em in the gut, and the little guys would do a monkey flip. I like to see innovations on underhanded play, and that's what I like about these Prophets of Rage. TD: Nice to see your torch is being passed, Steve. SR: Isn't it, though? [Derek then cinches an abdominal stretch around the rising Taurus, causing an immediate cry of pain from the masked man.] TD: Derek Rage locks on the abdominal stretch! Going right to work on the Big man for the Zodiacs. SR: At seven foot plus, Derek just wraps around El Toro like a python, squeezin' the life out of him. [Derek grabs the top rope for leverage. Heel Pop! This contines until Taurus succeeds in arm dragging Derek to the floor and setting on the bigger Rage with stomps. Shadoe flies in and hits Taurus with an enzuigiri to the back of the head. As the referee forces Shadoe back, Derek applies a chokehold. Heel Pop!] SR: Ahh, the good ol' reliable choke! It never fails! [The referee breaks the hold, which Derek responds to with a quick tilt-a-whirl pile driver, then tagging Shadoe, who immediately nails Taurus in the back of the head with a flying forearm, felling the big man.] TD: So far, it's been all Prophets! The Zodiacs really need some momentum! [Shadoe hits Taurus with a drop kick, then another! Scorpio begins to clap and start the "Zodiac" chant, which sufficiently moves Taurus to rush Shadoe into a tough spot...] TD: Taurus is signalling for the powerbo... Oh, my goodness! SR: Heh, heh, heh... I guess those bulls on Taurus' mask are steers now! [Shadoe places a headbutt to an inopportune place on Taurus, now doubled over in pain. Shadoe makes the tag to Derek, who slaps a side headlock on Taurus... The crowd then gives a loud pop as two familiar figures stand at the entrance to the ring.] TD: It's Gemini! And they're carrying steel pipes! SR: Yes! Chicks and Chains! Woo Woo! Come to poppa, ladies... [At the sight of their valets, the Zodiacs go berzerk. Taurus reverses Derek's headlock into a big back suplex that rocks the ring to a huge Face Pop! Scorpio catapults into the ring onto an onrushing Shadoe, hitting the smaller Rage with a cross body block! Pop Intensifies! The crowd gets louder as the Zodiacs tear into the Prophets!] TD: They say some women can drive men crazy, and I guess that's the case here! Merely the sight of Gemini has started a frenzy in the Zodiac connection, and now they finally seize the momentum! SR: For a change the Zodiacs are fighting my kind of fight! Wait, hold the phone... We're going to have a little Cat Scratch Fever! [Medusa Rage and Pizzazz charge at Gemini outside the ring, and the four women begin brawling as all for men are simultaneously! The pipes are rendered useless by the close quarters, but in the ring, while the referee is trying to control a brawl between Taurus and Shadoe and Scorpio stands on the top rope, looking for an opening to strike, Derek clocks Scorpio with the pipe and discards it! Huge Heel Pop as Scorpio slumps to sit atop the turnbuckle. Pizzazz and Medusa have gained the upper hand in the female brawl, with Pizzazz sneaking away as Gemini rises woozily.] TD: This is the absolute wildest the ring has been in several months! We have eight people fighting at once, and only four are actually involved in the match. SR: I love it! I love it! And the Zodiacs are getting their just desserts on both ends! [Medusa stands atop the ring apron, looming above Gemini with a steel chair. The referee orders her off, to which she complies...smacking both Zodiac Valets with the chair! Heel Pop!] TD: That's despicable! And where is Pizzazz in all of this? SR: One guess, Timmy... [Pizzazz climbs the ropes, putting a side headlock on the still-groggy Scorpio into the Headwrecker, which she hits with devistating effect. Meanwhile, the referee tries to stop both Prophets as they gang up on Taurus as Derek applies the Hammer of God clawhold slam, followed by Shadoe's Angel of Death Drop, then the cover... 1 - 2 -3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] SL: The winners of the match... THE PROPHETS OF RAGE! SR: What a show! The Prophets of Rage have really impressed here tonight! TD: Only if you include outside interference, foreign objects and illegal tactics in your "show"... SR: ...and you know I do! TD: Fans, the win sets the Prophets of Rage into the semi-finals with the Harlequins next Saturday night. Steve, looking at the final four teams remaining... The Prophets, the Harlequins, Night Patrol, who will face either the Hangmen or Cold Spell... Each of those teams are relatively new to the IIWF, with the expection of the Hangmen. SR: It really speaks well of the recruiting work the front office has done, doing something right for a change... Of the new teams, Cold Spell, Night Patrol, and the Prophets of Rage are all undefeated, and the W & W Express struggled early, but is looking to get on track with that win over the High Plains Drifters last Wednesday. Tag action in the IIWF is the best it's been in a long time, Dross. TD: Words of Wisdom out of the Soundbite, for a change... Before we get up to the ring for our next tournament match, let's get comments from the manager of one of the competing teams -- Judge Roy Bean, manager of veteran duo, the Hangmen: [Cut to the Judge in the locker room, flanked by the huge Hangmen behind either shoulder.] JRB: Cold Spell, do you really think that you can get by THE HANGMEN? My boys started their new training program prior to this tournament and as you can all see, we have pulled out all the stops to advance. The Hangmen have let it be known to the stockholders of HANGMAN INC. that nothing will stand in their way to the belts. So, Cold Spell, when you feel that the heat is being turned up, and another notch in intensity makes you shiver, remember it is THE HANGMEN taking you to a level that you may never return from. [Cut back to ringside.] =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- IIWF UNITED STATES TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT MATCH: -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cold Spell vs. The Hangmen ---------------------------------------------------------- WRITER: JB [Sparkplug Lee enters the ring, switches on the michrophone without incident, and begins the announcement.] SR: Hey, he's not going to screw up this time! This could be a turning point in the career of the Sparkster! [Lee them shuffles through the index cards, realizes he has the wrong set, and retrieves the proper set.] SR: Then again, maybe not. SL: This Quarterfinal match in the IIWF United States Tag Team tournament is scheduled for one fall. [Heel pop as "Desperado" strikes up and The Hangmen enter] Now entering the ring, accompanied by Judge Roy Bean, at a total combined weight of 715 pounds, from parts unknown, here are THE HAAAAAAAAANGMEN! SR: Hey, where's the other hangman? How in the world are they going to be able to cheat, er, compete in this match without his guidance? TD: Pardon me, Steve, but your Freudian slip is showing. SL: And their opponents... ["The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" begins, leading to a big pop as Icehawk excitedly slaps the hands of fans along the aisle. Fitzgerald does so, but not nearly as intently.] At a total combined weight of 500 pounds, Icehawk and Edmund Fitzgerald, COOOOOOLD SPELLLLLLLL! [Crowd pop gets bigger as Icehawk springboards over the top rope, into a tuck roll and lands, gymnast-style] TD: Icehawk, the Finnish contingent of Cold Spell, has been eager to show the fans of the IIWF his gymnastic skills. SR: You're right about one thing, Dross... he is finished. TD: No, no... _Finnish_, as in a native of Finland. SR: Finland? The only things they have in Finland are hockey players and hookers! TD: Hey, my wife's family is from Finland! SR: Really? What position does she play? [Bell sounds as the first wrestlers, one of the Hangmen and Fitzgerald, circle and lock up. The Hangman backs Fitzgerald into the ropes, and the referee calls for a clean break. The Hangman takes this opportunity to drive a boot into Fitz's midsection! Heel pop! The Hangman then begins a series of forearm clubs on Fitzgerald.] SR: This must be Hangman #2. TD: How on earth can you tell? SR: He's got this tiny mole on his back. That's how you tell the difference. TD: Regardless, IIWF President Daniel Spreadbury should do something about the freqent "tags" and substitutions this team makes just because of their identical garb. SR: I believe the last time you mentioned that to him, the phrase "rat's ass" was mentioned by him. [Hangman #2 whips Fitz into the ropes, attempts a shoulder block, but both men remain standing. Crowd pops positively. Hangman #2 rebounds off the ropes, which Fitz responds to by powerslamming the big man to the canvas! Big Crowd Pop! Fitz tags Icehawk, who slingshots over the top rope and drops and elbow on the Hangman on the way down! Pop!] TD: Cold Spell has turned the tide into their favor! Now we'll see some aerial skills by the Icehawk! SR: Don't count on it, Timbo. Look! [Judge Roy Bean jumps onto the ring apron, which draws the referee over to shout nim down. Meanwhile, Hangman #1 charges into the ring and opens up on Icehawk with punches while Hangman #2 slides out. Fitz tries to enter and save his partner from the injustice, but the referee turns and sees him out. Strong protest by the crowd!] TD: That's precisely what I've been talking about! The Hangmen are famous for using those identical outfits for illegal tags! SR: Well, if they're so illegal, why doesn't the referee stop them? TD: Because they can't tell the difference between the two! SR: Hey, If a ref can't tell two men apart, that's his fault...He shouldn't be officiating. Don't blame it on the Hangmen. [Hangman #1 hits Icehawk with a series of European uppercuts, then a backspin DDT! Heel Pop! the Hangman then drops knee across the Hawk's face, causing him to bolt up in pain. The Hangmen then tag, and Hangman #2 puts Icehawk in a side headlock, and begins running to execute a bulldog...] TD: The Hangmen have Icehawk in a mean predicament here! He needs a tag! SR: No he doesn't, Dross...the only thing he needs is a good body cast after the Hangmen are through with them. [...and hits it! Judge Bean applauds, then barks out another instruction. Hangman #2 mounts the second rope, and comes down on the rising Icehawk with an elbow to the top of the head! Heel pop as the Hangmen mockingly raise their arms to the crowd.] SR: Uh-oh, big mistake...they're playing to the morons! I don't care if you have some loser like Kauffman down on the mat, you need to keep on him! [Hangman #2 picks up Icehawk, and sets him up for the jack knife powerbomb as the crowd gives a last-ditch scream to encourage Icehawk. Hangman #2 struggles with Icehawk at first, then begins to lift him up, only to have Icehawk execute a frankensteiner! Hangman two is flung into a neutral corner head over heels! Huge crowd pop!] TD: What an incredible counter manuever by Icehawk! both men are down in the ring and are looking for the tag! SR: Yeah, I can't stand that little nut, but a powerbomb is a tough move to get out of. That was a heads-up move by the kid, but it won't matter because Hangman #1 will make the tag in time. TD: Are you sure that Hangman #2 isn't the one in the ring right now? SR: Not really...the mole is out of view. [Both men claw up the ropes and hand-over-hand start down the ropes to their corner. Just then, Bean again hops up on the apron and takes the ref's attention away. This allows Hangman #1 to storm out of the corner, and snatch Icehawk into a back suplex just inches away from the tag. Fitz again runs out, but Bean jumps down and the referee again returns Fitzgerald to his corner. As Fitzgerald protests, the Hangmen double-team Icehawk in their corner.] TD: This is a travesty! SR: Heh, heh, Bean sure knows how to work a ref! [As Fitz returns to his corner, Hangman #1 sets Icehawk on the top turnbuckle in the Hangmen's corner. Just as Hangman #1 approaches Icehawk, the Finnish Flyer leaps off the turnbuckle, executes a forward somersault upon reaching the mat, rolls towards Cold Spell's corner and dives towards Fitzgerald, making the tag! Crowd responds with huge pop!] TD: Icehawk has made the tag with an incredible piece of acrobatics! Edmund Fitzgerald is cleaning house! SR: No! No! Fight back, you clowns! [As Icehawk slowly recovers, Fitz hammers each Hangman alternately with punches to the head. Crowd pops with each punch. Finally, Fitz clotheslines Hangman #2, leveling him to the mat, and Gorilla Presses Hangman #1, holding him as the crowd cheers! Finally, Fitzgerald drops him out of the ring, but turns around to a clothesline by Hangman #2, sending Fitz out of the ring.] SR: Heh, Heh, turnabout is fair play! [Hangman #1 and Fitz brawl outside while Icehawk, recovered somewhat, springs off the far ropes as Hangman #2 watches outside the ring at the melee. Icehawk preforms a running drop kick to the back of Hangman #2, sending him outside as well. Icehawk mounts the top turnbuckle and presses Hangman #2 as he rises from the arena floor! Huge crowd pop! Meanwhile, Hangman #1 is attempting a pile driver on Fitz and hits it! Heel pop!] SR: That piledriver into the concrete should slow ol' Eddie down. [As Icehawk's press renders Hangman #2 motionless, he slides back into the ring as Hangman #1 climbs the top rope, but not before Fitz rises. Bean attempts to revive Hangman #2.] TD: The Hangman's in big trouble here! Only one direction to go! [Before Fitzgerald can shake or knock Hangman #1 off, the Hangman hops down from the rope and onto the ring. Just as he taunts Fitzgerald outside for acting slowly...] SR: Hanger! look out! [...Icehawk slips up behind and executes an Oklahoma Roll! Hangman #1 kicks fitfully in the air as the referee counts: 1 - 2 - 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] SL: The winners of the match as the result of a pinfall...COOOOOOLD SPELLLLLL! ["Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" plays as the team celebrate inside the ring and the Hangmen leave the area.] SR: No! No! Come on, ref! He couldn't make the pin! He wasn't in legal man in the ring! TD: Agree with me now on the dress of the Hangmen, Steve? SR: No! That Finnish Freak wasn't the legal man! What kind of world is it where you get beat by a team whose entrance music is Gordon Lightfoot? TD: In any event, Cold Spell will face Night Patrol on next week's show for the right to fight in Ring Wars III for the U.S. Tag Belts! What a match turned in there by the Cold Spell! SR: Well, there is a bright side... at least the Night Patrol can give them what's coming to them. TD: Speaking of Night Patrol, their manager, Asst. DA Brenda Hawkings, is Becky's guest this week in LaRue's Lair. SR: What a slick link, Dross. Anybody would think it was scripted. [Becky enters the set. She tosses Ring Wars III t-shirts to the masses and there is chaos as the crowd swarms. She takes her seat, smiling with contempt at the fans.] BL: Ever since I came to work for the IIWF, I been trying, driving and striving to bring one thing to this dingy federation: Class. Well, my prayers have been answered and I no longer have to shoulder this burden alone. Let me present my sister in style, the DA in the court of class, manager of Night Patrol: Brenda Hawkings! [Hawkings enters to a noticably feminine sounding pop, stylishly dressed in her black businesss suit and red blouse. She and Becky exchange air kisses then have a short conversation which the mics cannot pick up.] BL: Brenda, darling, let me start by asking the question that everyone wants to know the answer to. Where do you get your stylish suits? BH: Well, Becky, it's a small, out of the way shop in my hometown of St. Louis where my mother took me to get my first business suit at the tender age of nine. We can't exactly let the rest of the world in on our secret, but I'll give you the address after the show...You'd look primo in one of Mr. Pagliuca's creations. BL: Of course, I understand. Though, you never know if the next Brenda Hawkings isn't in the audience now just waiting for the push she needs. Anyhow, what inspired you to form Night Patrol? BH: It began as a working relationship... right out of Law School, I worked for the Houston City Prosecutor's Office... My first case involved the confession of a robbery by some lowlife who said Keene and Blazer had roughed him up. They got punished and put on nightwatch, but I've always handled their cases since then... we rarely lost one after that. We became known as "The Night Patrol," and it's stuck ever since. BL: An inspirational story to be sure, but is it just business with you three? BH: Absolutely, but I have taken the liberty to fix David up with some of my Tri-Delt sisters. We also get together on Saturdays before the Show during the fall to relax and watch College Football. Jack played for Oklahoma, David for Texas Tech, and I went to Illinois, so we have some friendly ribbing over it. You went to Tulane, I believe? BL: Um, yes. The coin flip last Saturday... we all understand the reasons why, but what would you have done if you had lost it? BH: Becky, you know I'm a woman of my word... I'd have paid up the wager, fair and square. Then I would have began making plans to show those Dark Disciple Deviants some Police Brutality. BL: By winning the flip, you practically handed Pain Inc. the World Tag Belts. BH: Exactly... But we also assured ourselves of the U.S. Titles. Unlike other partnerships that have petty jealousies, we truly work as a team with Pain Inc. -- and fine, upstanding men they are -- and when Team Brutality holds both pairs of belts, we will send the message that we are the stable to beat. BL: Who is the brains behind Team Brutality? BH: Mr. Mic and myself, of course! We work much as an actual brain does -- well, the working brains that people like you and I have, not those degenerates that show disrespect to my officers [Heel pop]. Mr. Mic is good at getting the emotional juices of Team Brutality going, like the left brain. But without me, the right brain, our men would possibly get in a few tough spots for their overzealousness. It works out as well as possible. BL: You kissed Steve Roberts after the match. Has your appetite returned or do you still feel ill? BH: [laughs] When you showed support for us, I made the gift of a Porsche; Mr. Roberts has shown support, so I gave him a small token of affection. I would say they're both of the same value. BL: Hmmm. I don't know. Porsches are pretty good. [ponders a moment] Okay, back to wrestling. Zodiac Connection have been playing big men recently, swinging their pipes around like they think they're scary. What is your take on the situation? BH: [sigh] It just goes to show that this bleeding-heart approach to law-breakers is doomed. You see these malcontents waving these pipes around, doing for plumbers what machine guns did for postal workers... But I assure you, Zodiac Convicts, you're wanted on charges of Assault and Battery! [pause] Either that, or they're trying to get a little batting practice in for the next IIWF Charity Softball game... you know, I was a pitcher in High School, so they're scared of my off-speed. BL: Of course they are. Was there any doubt? Do you see a time when Night Patrol will unify the tag belts? BH: In the event that Team Brutality should own both sets of belts, That will be unification enough. BL: How about it fans...she's generous as well as brilliant. You've got to love her. [pop] Historically speaking, what era do your men REALLY belong in? BH: I would say the Middle Ages as valiant knights in shining armor, but sister, you know I'm no damsel in distress...I think this age of advancement for women and new police technologies and tactics is perfect for the Night Patrol. BL: Like stronger handcuffs. Sorry. Zodiacs aside, who else is your competition in the Tag ranks? BH: The only team even close to our skill is Pain, Inc...and you know whenever we meet, it's a toss-up. [crowd groans]. BL: Would you ever handle a singles wrestler? Who? BH: I'd looooove to handle that dashing Lord Byron... so stately, elegant and handsome... Oh, you mean manage? Oh, no... with few exceptions, the singles ranks are full of crazed loners. I like wrestlers who work as a team. BL: Oh, so do I. Like the time Kinder and Hardin worked together. Er, in the Horsemen, y'know. So, what do you drive? BH: A Porsche... as you know, you can't lose with that. Except mine is blue. BL: While I'd love to talk to you all evening, they won't let me. What spellbinding words do you have for these pawns in the crowd? BH: Well, these scum do pay our wages... All right, people, listen up! Always support your local police. [Dangles Becky's keys] It really pays in the long run. [to Becky] What do you say we take our machines after the show and see which one of us was cut out for Indy? [The two exit together exchanging chit-chat. The word "turbo powered" is head before they disappear through the curtain. Cut back to the broadcasters' table.] TD: Well, our next match is what my ole' daddy would have called a slobberknocker. Like me and my brother Hoss would have had over a Mickey Mantle baseball glove when I was 8 or over my best girl Penelope Ann when I was 16. SR: Dross, I think I speak for our vast viewing audience -- and by the way, somebody should because a lot of you people can't put two sentences together -- when I say that no one ever wants to hear about your childhood. TD: Well, I have a lot of interesting stories, Steve Roberts. I've played golf with Telly Savalas, you know. SR: Your brother's name is Hoss? TD: Let's get to ringside. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder vs. Steve "the Fury" Kowalski =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= WRITER: JJ [The heel chanting rings throughout the IIWF Coliseum, alternating between "Fu-ry, Fu-ry" and "Thun-der, Thun-der", with a lone voice in the back being faintly heard between the beats, "I'm a Sparkplug-o-path!" The aforementioned Mr. Lee takes the mic...] SL: The following contest is set for one fall. Introducing first... weighing 268 lbs... from Newark, New Jersey... the former IIWF Intercontinental Champion....STEVE "THE FURY" KOWALSKI! [Big heel pop as the green eyed Fury strides down the aisle to the accompaniment of "Don't Fear the Reaper." Kowalski tears away his faded Harley Davidson denim jacket and walks as if to give it to a young ringside fan...then snatches it away, shaking his head in disgust at the child's gullibility. Heel Pop.] SR: You know, you can keep your Kauffmans and your Kick Mes, you want my thirteen bucks for Ring Wars 3 -- you let Kowalski and Thunder just beat the hell out of each other for 20 minutes in your main event -- that's what the people want to see, a couple of tough guys whacking each other over the head. TD: Well, Steve, that big pay-per-view is actually $29.95. Obviously you haven't called your local cable company since 1978. SR: Thirty bucks?! That's a lap dance and a couple of bags of Fritos. What sort of scam are you people running here? [The theme from "High Plains Drifter" begins to a big pop as Sparkplug retakes the mic...] SL: His opponent... weights 267 lbs. and hails from the "Town too Tough to Die", Tombstone, Arizona... here is the "Lone Wolf"... BRODY THUNDER! [The big cowboy strides to the ring, clad in his familiar black boots, trunks and red and black wrist tape. Thunder points at Kowalski as he hits the ring and then stares out at his growing number of cheering fans. A sly smile begins to creep over Thunder's face as he notices a particularly ornate sign from the front row of the second deck..."It's time... It's time... It's Thunderbolt - Time!" Then, the arms which have raised the massive sign begin to lower... revealing...] TD: It's Billy Shakespeare! Billy Shakespeare is in the stands holding up a Brody Thunder sign! SR: At least he's finally backing a winner, Dross. TD: Well, Thunder is hot, Thunder is pointing up at Shakespeare and threatening to climb over the ropes and go after him. I think this has to do with the big match at Ring Wars 3 between these two incredible competitors, I think just like last week, when Shakespeare himself executed that big Thunderbolt almost as effectively as Thunder himself, that he's sending him a message. SR: Kowalski's about to send him a message if he doesn't turn around... [With Thunder preoccupied with Shakespeare, Kowalski is able to spin him around and into a short armed clothesline that drops Thunder hard to the mat. Kowalski now sticks a finger in his face, yelling at Thunder not to ever turn his back on the "Fury" again! Kowalski delivers a boot to the head... to which Thunder responds with a forearm to the groin that doubles him up... and then into a swinging neckbreaker that sends Kowalski down. Big Pop!] SR: Wooooo! I bet ole' Hoss never taught you that one, Dross... Although, he was probably well acquainted with that particular region of Penelope Ann's body. [Thunder now points his finger in Kowalski's face, saying that he'll turn his back on "The Furry" anytime he damn well pleases, then drags him up, lands a sharp European uppercut, then Irish whips Kowalski into a big elbowsmash. Pop. Thunder follows up with a side Russian leg sweep and then two knee drops to the "lower midsection" Thunder drops an elbow to the throat - then slaps Kowalski across the face, pointing at him and then rising to point at Shakespeare, waving "Spotlight" to the ring.] TD: He wants it right now, Steve Roberts. This Thunder is on fire in the IIWF! He's ready to take on all comers. SR: Well, Kowalski's comin' from behind again... [Thunder whirls as Kowalski again approaches, catching the Fury with a right to the gut, Thunder applies a facelock... looking for a DDT!... but Kowalski reverses into an inverted neckbreaker that snaps Brody to the mat. Big heel pop! Kowalski covers for a 1 - 2 - kickout by Thunder... but his trip to his feet is halted by a gutwrench suplex by Kowalski that drives him down again! Big Pop!] TD: That is a dangerous, dangerous man -- this Steve Kowalski, tough as he is ornery... and he is plenty ornery... look at him attack Brody Thunder! [Kowalski drops down with a series of furious right hands, then is up again, kicking the prone cowboy harder and harder to the ribs, knocking Thunder beneath the ropes and clear out of the ring and onto the floor! Heel Pop!] SR: All right! We're going outside! Use the steps, Kowalski! [Kowalski hesitates as he reaches Thunder, then gives Soundbite a quick thumbs up as he whips Thunder into the steel steps! Pop! Kowalski then charges with a flying clothesline... that Thunder slips... leaving Kowalski to ram into the ringpost! Pop! Thunder quickly leaps to the apron for a double axe... but is slammed to the floor by Kowalski, who quickly moves to capitalize... but Thunder regroups to legwhip him into the retaining barrier! Wild popping! The two men then frantically brawl their way out... and up the aisle, each sending the other into the railing, each landing crazy roundhouse lefts and rights as...] TD: Someone's making his way out of the crowd... it's... it's the Sandman! The Sandman is coming out of the crowd and taking Sparkplug Lee's mic! [Pop as the still bloodied masked man climbs out of the crowd as Kowalski and Thunder continue their brawl. The official's count is broken as Sandman takes the mic...] SL: Hey, hey Kowalski... you're mine! [Pop, although Thunder and Kowalski continue their brawling, now making their way back to the ring.] At Ring Wars 3... I'm not gonna challenge you to a match because it's gonna be a fight... a Toronto Street Fight! Sign the dotted line and write your own will! [Sandman throws down the mic to a pop and moves to go attack Kowalski but is restrained by uniformed security personnel, leading to his returning through the crowd.] SR: Toronto Street Fight? Ooooh, the Sandman in the mean streets of Canada. You s'pose that one will be sanctioned, Dross? [Thunder and Kowalski have returned to the ring...a gash clearly evident on the Fury's forehead, the two men exhaustedly move toward each other in the ring and now lock up. It's Kowalski with a long standing side headlock, wrenching the neck until Thunder is able to slide out and go behind, moving for a waistlock and running The Fury to the ropes. Kowalski grabs to the top...but Thunder holds on to the waistlock... Kowalski misses a back right elbow... then a back left elbow... and then is taken down with a big german suplex by Thunder! Big Pop! and a cover 1 - 2 - kickout!] TD: Outstanding! Outstanding! Thunder hits a textbook German suplex that almost gets him the victory here. SR: Yeah, but The Fury kicks out, these guys can flat go, Dross! [Thunder picks Kowalski up into a snap suplex and a cover 1 - kickout - Thunder pulls him up and then lands hard right hands, a boot to the midsection and then whips Kowalski farside... ducking a Fury clothesline... and springboards crossbody off the ropes...] TD: Kowalski caught him! Kowalski flat caught him! [Kowalski holds Thunder briefly and then executes a devastating fallaway slam that brings a Big Pop from his fans. Kowalski moves to cover... but thinks better of it... instead picking up Thunder's legs and applying a Texas clover leaf! Big Pop!] TD: He's got him hooked in, but they're too close to the ropes, Steve Roberts. Too close... and Kowalski's using the ropes for leverage... the referee doesn't see it! Oh, that is just wrong, Steve Roberts. SR: Have I taught you nothing, Dross? That's the best time to grab the ropes -- when the ref. ain't looking. [The official raises his head and sees that the midrope is shaking. He looks to Kowalski, accusing him of grabbing the rope. Kowalski exaggeratedly protests his innocence, breaking the hold and placing his hand over his chest... then pointing out the crowd... asking the fans if it was he who made the ropes shake. The crowd, of course, responds: "YES!" The Fury spits at the crowd and flips them a double middle finger. Heel Pop! Thunder got all the time he needed, rolling Kowalski up for a flash cover... 1 - 2 - no! Kowalski gets a shoulder up and then is quickly to his feet, whipping Thunder hard to the buckle and then charging... and missing a clothesline. Pop!] TD: That could be a big moment here, Steve Roberts. Kowaski wasn't able to finish him off with that clover leaf and now Thunder has him in the corner. [Thunder turns on Kowalski with three heavy european uppercuts, then batters him to the canvas with big overhand rights and then rapid series of stomps to the head and neck! Big pop! And then another big pop from the aisle as Thunder drapes Kowalski's left leg over the midrope and climbs the buckles...] TD: We've got company in the aisle, Steve Roberts... SR: What the hell does this bozo want? [Mad Dog Watkins slowly makes his way to ringside, ignoring the taunts of the floor seated fans clad in the black "Anyone...Anywhere...Anytime" t-shirts. Watkins walks to the back of the ringside area, watching intently as Thunder drives down hard and repeatedly onto Kowalski's exposed leg. Thunder then drags Kowalski to the middle of the ring... and covers... 1 - 2 - NO! Thunder picks up Kowalski... whips him nearside... and catches him on the return with a belly-to-belly suplex and a cover... 1 - 2 - NO! Thunder picks up Kowalski again... but is hit with a thumb to the eye and the Fury moves for a facelock... which is reversed by Thunder... into a Cattle Buster DDT! But the official is struck by Kowalski's legs as he hurtled the mat... and the official is down... Big heel pop as Thunder covers...] TD: There's no count, Soundbite. There's no count. I think Kowalski kicked that official intentionally even as he was on his way to the mat! SR: Aw come on, would the Fury do something like that.... Hell, yes he would! [Thunder begins to give up on the pinfall attempt and turns around... and is hit with a big lariat from Mad Dog Watkins! Watkins then quickly picks up Thunder... and powerbombs him to the mat... leaving the ring to a shocked pop from the capacity crowd!] TD: What the heck was that, Steve Roberts? Mad Dog Watkins just laid Brody Thunder out and now he's hightailing it out of here, what's going on? [Watkins gives one of the t-shirt wearing Creed fans a shove as he disappears from the aisle... while in the ring the official and Kowalski are each rising to their feet and the Fury stands now poised over Brody Thunder...] SR: Yeah, Yeah, Yeah... it's gonna happen, we're gonna see it, Dross, it's gonna be... [Huge heel pop as Steve Kowalski positions... then drives down Brody Thunder with a Skullpump! And covers... 1 - 2 - 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] SL: Your winner... as a result of a pinfall... STEVE "THE FURY" KOWALSKI! [Big heel pop as Kowalski quickly exits the ring, pointing to himself as he yells the word "SKULLPUMP" repeatedly into the camera. After several moments, Thunder rises to a seated position, as if trying to reconstruct his lost recent moments.] TD: Well, I don't know quite what to make of that, Steve Roberts. I didn't know the blood between Watkins and Thunder was that bad. You have to wonder what affect, if any, this will have on the big Ring Wars III, now only two short weeks away. SR: What you have to wonder is when Steve Kowalski's gonna get the recognition he's due, Dross. He just Skullpumped one of the finest wrestlers in the world... although there is one Mad Dog who's gonna be in a whole hell of a lot of trouble when that cowboy catches up to him. [Thunder makes his way up the aisle angrily, apparently looking for Watkins.] TD: Up next is our big IIWF World Tag Team Championship match pitting one half of Team Brutality, Pain Inc., against the current champions, the Dark Disciples, who are scheduled to face Domination at Ring Wars III in two weeks. Let's get up to the ring. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= IIWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Dark Disciples [c] vs. Pain Inc. --------------------------------------- WRITER: SC [Sparkplug Lee steps into the ring and prepares to announce the match] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest, set for one fall, is for the IIWF World Tag Team championship! [big pop] First, making their way down the aisle are the challengers. Hailing from Jakarta, Indonesia, at a combined weight of 585 pounds, accompanied by their manager Mr. Mic, here are Morningstar and Hellraiser, Pain Inc.! TD: I have to commend Hellraiser for even being able to show up tonight after what happened to him last Wednesday night in... wait a minute. There's something going on in the aisleway. Let's get a shot of it. [Out comes Morningstar accompanied by Mr. Mic, but Hellraiser is not seen. Instead, Sgt. Jack Blazer of Night Patrol, Lt. David Keene and Asst. DA Brenda Hawking make their way down the aisle with Mr. Mic and Morningstar. The ref begins talking with Brenda and Mr. Mic as Lt. Keene threaten some fans at ringside with a ticket for noise pollution.] TD: And Mr. Mic and Brenda Hawking are discussing something with the ref. SR: It wouldn't suprise me one bit if Hellraiser isn't present after the beating he took on Wednesday. TD: You really have a flair for the obvious, Steve. SR: Shut up, Dross. TD: And now the ref is telling something to Sparkplug. All right, Sparkplug is about to say something over the microphone. SL: Ladies and gentlemen, a correction, replacing Hellraiser will be Sgt. Jack Blazer accompanied by Lt. David Keene and Asst. DA, Brenda Hawking! [The crowd releases a lot of negative heat.] TD: Can they do that? SR: Why not, Dross? TD: I don't know, just it doesn't seem very fair to the Disciples who are expecting Hellraiser. SR: Well, I like the replacement. TD: That's just because the Night Patrol took away those parking tickets of yours. SR: Shut up. [Morningstar and Blazer high five each other as druidic chanting begins over the PA system and the IIWF World Tag Team champions, Kane and Wulf, make their way down the aisle with Don McQueen leading the way.] SL: And their opponents, making their way down the aisle, accompanied by manager, Don McQueen, at a combined weight of 615 pounds, hailing from Parts Unknown, here are the IIWF World Tag Team champions, Kane and Wulf, the Dark Disiciples! TD: They don't look too happy about the presence of Night Patrol at ringside. SR: They never look too happy about anything, Dross! TD: True. This is a battle of four very unpopular wrestlers here in the IIWF. SR: So I guess we'll have to call this a tough man match, huh? TD: Stop it now. [Kane and Wulf rush into the ring and start things off before the bell. Wulf grabs Blazer and levels him with right hands while Kane dives after Morningstar taking the two over the top rope, to the floor. Wulf and Blazer are declared the two legal men by the referee and Wulf whips Blazer to the ropes and hits a back body drop onto the Sgt. Wulf pummels Blazer with double axehandles while Kane whips Morningstar into the steps on the outside.] TD: Oh, come on, referee! This is why we should have two refs out here for these tag matches! SR: Stop complaining and enjoy the fight, Dross. [In the ring, Wulf again whips Blazer accross to the ropes, and ducks his head down for another back body drop. Instead Blazer stops his momentum and grabs Wulf and attempts a piledriver. Jack Blazer drives Wulf to the mat with a vicious piledriver as Kane hops up to his corner restoring some order on the outside. Mr. Mic walks over to the Disciple's corner as Lt. David Keene and Brenda Hawkings help up Morningstar. Mr. Mic begins to yell and taunt the Disciples' manager, Don McQueen making references to McQueen's mother and manliness. Mr. Mic then sticks his fists up as if to challene McQueen to a fight. McQueen gives Mic a glare and yells to Wulf to get up.] TD: I am not too sure that it's a smart move to try and draw McQueen into a fight. SR: I agree there. We all know how dangerous Don can be. TD: How's that? SR: Well, McQueen obviously taught Tiger Claw everything he knows, so he must know how to fight. TD: Will you be serious? [In the ring, Wulf is elbowdropped by Blazer. Morningstar makes his way to his own corner now as Blazer scoops up Wulf into a sidewalk slam. Blazer makes a lazy cover and only gets a one count from the official. Morningstar makes the motion for a tag, and is given one by Blazer. In comes Morningstar who takes down Wulf with a spinning heel kick. Morningstar slaps around Wulf as he is down on the mat. Morningstar then picks Wulf up by the hair and whips him into the corner. Morningstar follows up with a splash attempt, but runs straight into Wulf's boot. Morningstar covers his face as Wulf makes a dive over and tags in Kane who comes in and blasts Morningstar with a running clothsline. Kane then runs over and gives one to Blazer for good measure. Kane then takes Morningstar and DDT's him into the mat. Kane follows up with two elbows for good measure. Kane pulls Morninstar up by his hair and executes a running-powerslam and covers. 1 - 2 - shoulder up.] TD: Kane has been a house of fire since tagging into the match! [In comes Blazer who is clothslined by Wulf. The referee then tries to get Blazer out, as Wulf and Kane begin to double team Morningstar with kicks. Wulf then whips Morningstar into the ropes and the Disciples blast Morningstar with a double clothesline.] TD: This is Blazer and Morningstar's inexperience of tagging together. By Blazer arguing with the ref, he is allowing the Disciples to really take it to Morningstar! SR: Well, no kidding, Dross. Blazer knows that. He _is_ a tag team wrestler, as you know. [Kane tags back in Wulf and the two whip Morningstar to the ropes and hits Morningstar with a spike piledriver. Wulf covers, 1 - 2 - and Blazer rushes in and breaks the count with a kick to the back of Wulf's head.] TD: You know who I just noticed is not out here? SR: Hellraiser? TD: No. Hades is not present at ringside. I wonder where Mr. Mic has him. SR: Probably out beating up some fan or something I guess. [Wulf lifts Morningstar up and attempts a back suplex, but Morningstar blocks it and hits Wulf with a knee to the bread-basket. Wulf doubles over in pain as Morningstar makes the tag to Sgt. Jack Blazer. Blazer comes in and rocks Wulf with a flying shoulder block. Blazer hammers down Wulf with forearms and kicks and then connects a hard savate kick. Blazer tags back in Morningstar and the two hit a double clothsline. At this point, the crowd turn their heads to the isleway and begin making even more noise. Morningstar then applies an Asian Spike to Wulf.] TD: What's going on in the aisle? SD: It looks like the Zodiac COnnection are here with their pipes. [The Zodiac Connection, Scorpio and Taurus make an appearence at the head of the aisle carrying their trademark steel pipes. They point at Morningstar, who releases Wulf and heads to the ropes, yelling profanities at the Zodiacs. The Zodiacs start to walk to the ring, continuing to point their pipes at Morningstar. When they get half way down the aisle, suddenly a figure leaps out of the audience and takes Taurus Weighing in down with another steel pipe.] TD: It's Hades! He was waiting for something like this to happen! SR: Mr. Mic is a very smart man sending out Hades! [Hades swings at Scorpio, but misses. Hades takes another swing and misses again. In frustration, Hades throws the pipe at Scorpio and hits him in the forearm. Hades charges and grabs Scorpio and wails away on him. Hades tosses Scorpio up the isle and then kicks over Taurus who is getting up. The referee is distracted by this occurence in the isle, and Morningstar uses this to his advantage and digs out a piece of metal he was keeping in his trunks and blasts Wulf in the forehead with it. Wulf falls to the mat and Morningstar laughs and tosses the metal to Brenda Hawkings at ringside.] TD: He hit him with a piece of metal! Come on ref, turn around! Concern yourself with the match! SR: Who cares? We're seeing a great fight! [Meanwhile, in the isle Hades and Taurus lock up and slowly make their way backstage. Scorpio picks himself up and charges Hades with a kneedrop. Hades and the Zodiac Connection brawl to the curtains backstage and begin to brawl backstage.] TD: I understand there is a whole security team backstage and are trying to separate Hades from the Connection. SR: Those Zodiacs are fools! They had no business being at ringside at all! [In the ring, the referee finally turns around and sees Morningstar cover Wulf. 1 - 2 - in comes Kane and kicks Morningstar off Wulf at the last second. Morningstar applies the Asai Spike once more to Wulf. Mr. Mic once again makes his way over to the Disciple's coner and begins mocking McQueen. On the other side of the ring, Keene shouts to Wulf to give it up. McQueen glares at Mic who is sticking up his fists again, challenging McQueen. Mr. Mic makes a comment about Takezo Musashi and McQueen which sets the manager off. McQueen chases after Mr. Mic who runs the other direction. McQueen follows close behind Mr. Mic. Suddenly Brenda Hawkings sprays pepper spray into McQueen's eyes as he passes her. McQueen yells at Mic and grasps his eyes. Mr. Mic continues to taunt McQueen and Don responds with a few wild swings as Wulf is worn down by the Asai Spike. Mr. Mic and Hawkings laugh at McQueen's swings and then kick McQueen in the rear, knocking him over. Kane sees this and rushes over and helps his manager up and brings him back over to the Disciples' corner.] TD: We are seeing every rule in the book broken here tonight. SR: Who said that managers fighting is against the rules? TD: Hmm. Meanwhile, in the ring, Wulf just won't give up. SR: Heh, got you on that one, huh, Dross? [Wulf begins to power his way to his feet as Morningstar drapes himself onto Wulf's back to keep the Asai Spike on. After a few seconds, Wulf then drops down and brings down Morningstar with a diamond cutter style jaw-breaker. Morningstar holds his jaw as Wulf lunges at Kane for the tag and makes it. In comes a well-rested Kane who blasts Morningstar with a shoulderblock. Kane then hits another one on to Blazer who runs into the ring. Kane grabs both wrestlers are hits them in a double nogin knocker. Kane then hits a chokeslam onto Morningstar. Blazer is clotheslined out of the ring by Kane. Kane then climbs to the middle rope and hits an elbowdrop. 1 - 2 - Morningstar puts his foot on the ropes. Lt. David Keene then jumps up on to the apron and yells at Kane for being a lawbreaker. Kane gets up and stares at Keene as the ref tries to get Keene off the apron. Sgt. Jack Blazer seeing an opportunity to cheat throws Morningstar the billy club from Hawkings. Morningstar stands up, and swings Kane around to hit him with the club. Instead, Kane grabs the club and levels Morningstar with it. Unfortunately, this was Team Brutality's plan as Keene dropped off the apron in time for the referee to turn around and see Kane use the club. The ref immediately calls for the bell and disqualifies the Dark Disciples. Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: I can't believe this! The rules were totally ignored by both teams! SR: I can't believe those Zodiacs! They were the ones who were really breaking the rules. TD: How did they break the rules Steve? SR: Uhm... well, they distracted Morningstar. TD: No they didn't. Morningstar used the time to hit Wulf with the metal! SR: They were still distractions, Dross! [In the ring, Wulf comes in and begins to yell at the referee at the outcome as "More Human Than Human" by White Zombie plays and Sparkplug announces the outcome.] SL: The winners of the match as a result of a disqualification, the team of Morningstar and Sgt. Jack Blazer! [The crowd let's loose the chorus of "boo"s for Team Brutality as they head backstage and Kane and Wulf help their manager back to the locker rooms as he stumbles around from the pepper spray. Wulf screams at fans as they walk backstage.] TD: Well, Team Brutality may have won the match, but they didn't take the titles, so the Disciples live to fight another day -- and that day will come in two short weeks when they battle Domination live on pay-per-view from the Toronto Skydome. Okay, Steve, it's time to announce just who will be representing the IIWF in the upcoming Superstar Summit. SR: Let me guess... El Super Gecko? TD: Of course not. Excuse me while I make my way to the ring. SR: Be my guest. Don't hurry back. [Dross leaves the broadcast position and grabs a ring microphone. The crowd give a pop as he steps between the ropes.] TD: Ladies and gentlemen, in just a few weeks, the greatest athletes in the wrestling world will gather at Wembley Stadium in London, England, for a five-day inter-federational event to end all other events. Over the course of five days, representatives from eight of the world's premier wrestling organisations will compete in the Summit Cup, a round-robin tournament to decide just who is the best wrestler in the world today. Of course, the IIWF must have a representative in this tournament, and in this past week, the IIWF President has picked the man who he wishes to carry the mantle of the IIWF over the Atlantic Ocean to compete in the Summit Cup in April. That man is a former IIWF Intercontinental Champion... SR: [over the headset] Steve Kowalski? Don Antonio?! TD: ...he is a former IIWF Cruiserweight Champion... SR: [over the headset] Oh, you're kidding me! TD: ...he is the man who was "Born to Perform". He is... "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare! [Huge pop as "Little Willie" by The Sweet blares out over the PA. The lights in the arena drop and a single spotlight picks out the entranceway.] SR: [over the headset] I can't believe it! Dictator Danny chose Pukespeare over Byron, over Kowalski, over Thunder, over Watkins... this stinks! [The crowd looks with anticipation towards the entry arch. There is a hush of expectant silence -- and then the crowd explodes as Billy Shakespeare emerges from a cloud of smoke and makes his way to the ring. He stops to slap hands with a fan and plants a kiss on a little girl, who swoons. Fireworks explode from the ring posts.] TD: Billy... Congratulations! Any words for the IIWF faithful? BS: "Give me my robe and crown; I have immortal longings in me"! [He raises his hands in the air and the crowd pops] It is a great honor for me to represent the IIWF at the Summit. There are a lot of great wrestlers here... any one of them could do this federation justice. But they knew that when the pressure is on, and the eyes of the world are your audience, only one man is "Born to Perform". All the world's my stage and it is lit by the "Spotlight". I have held your Cruiserweight Title and your Intercontinental Title... Lo, now I proudly wear the title of the IIWF's representative. This isn't about Billy Shakespeare anymore, this is about the IIWF! [Crowd pops!] SR: [over the headset] I think I'm going to be sick. BS: This is about the greatest wrestling federation in the world! [Another pop] This is about showing a bunch of mad-brained louts why you don't challenge the IIWF! This is about the fans... and about every wrestler in the IIWF... and about why this federation is oft imitated, but never equalled! [The crowd goes wild. The camera pans over the excited fans and it is some time before some semblence of order is restored] BS: I will meet these knaves on their field of honor... and... to steal from Hamlet... "I'll lug their guts into the neighbor's room!" TD: Ladies and gentlemen, "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare! [The crowd erupts again as Billy climbs each ring post in turn, delivering a grand bow at the top of each one. His music cranks up again as he prepares to exit the ring. However, his attention is caught by two figures making their way down one of the aisleways in the stands. The crowd erupts in a heel pop as they recognise the two men to be "loop" representatives Mr. Robinson and Super Scott. Dross raises his microphone again. Billy Shakespeare stands at Dross' side and puts his hands on his hips.] TD: Now wait a minute... You can't come out here. Where's security? [Two security staff bear down on the "loop"ers, and are easily dispatched by the two rugged wrestlers. Mr. Robinson wears black boots, a loose pair of black latex rubber pants, a button down black latex rubber shirt, black shades around the eyes, and carries a long hickory stick in his right hand. He pimps down the hall way absorbing the boos. Super Scott, meanwhile, simply wears a t-shirt bearing the legend, "THE LOOP", and a pair of black jeans. The two athletes vault over the crowd barrier and stand on the arena floor by the ring. They point up at Shakespeare and Dross.] SR: [over the headset] This is ridiculous. Get these two losers out of here! [Shakespeare cracks a slight smile, and holds open the ropes for Robinson and Super Scott, who step into the ring, eyeing Shakespeare suspiciously. Billy bows a mocking bow in their direction to a big pop. Robinson goes to attack Shakespeare, but is held back by Super Scott.] TD: Mr. Robinson... Super Scott... you have no place here in the IIWF. You have no place out he... Hey! [Mr. Robinson snatches the microphone away from Dross and raises his fist at him. Dross backs off.] MR: Yeah, you back off, little man. And you, Shitspeare, you back off too! [Big heel pop. Billy raises his eyebrows, and goes to lean against one of the corners of the ring. Robinson eyes the jeering crowd before speaking again.] MR: Yup... This is definitely the IIWF I remember... Same knuckledraggers in the crowd drooling on each other. And I'm wondering if I'm going to get the same response. I wonder if _everyone_ is gonna watch again, _everyone_ is gonna be astonished, yet no one will _comprehend_ what I say. I look down on tonight's booking schedule, it looks like an undercard to the local YMCA's boxing night. [Mr. Robinson puts down the microphone, and removes his button down latex shirt to reveal a "loop" tank top, and an angel playing the harp is tattooed on his right shoulder.] MR: As much as you may think of me, I have _not_ come here to talk _big_, but to beat one of the IIWF's "best" and as if I was his daddy... Who could be out there listening to me? "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley? Come on... Man comes in to the ring like one of Jerry's Kids. [Mr. Robinson pretends to be offended about something, he gets a very astonished look on his face.] But _I_ am offended! Super Scott and Mr. Robinson walk into the IIWF... The best damn thing that's happened to the IIWF since Mrs. Annis died... A fat ass protected by Greenpeace, and left her crack money to the IIWF to buy those blow-up dolls for the locker room. And the IIWF has the balls to claim that I got my sparkling 20-0 record from "back stage money passing"... What the hell is that shit? I come out here and say last week that I'll beat the piss out of whomever stands up to me, the IIWF does their best "POULTRY FECAL MATTER" imitation... Or in laymen's terms... "CHICKEN SHIT". I'm standing right here, I'm ready to fight, I'm ready to prove that MR. ROBINSON is everything I say I am, then some. So I'm here, fighting for my reputation... Do you think that I won due to people lying on their backs? Do you think that I beat men like Drac Dravin, a man of "justice", because of a couple dead presidents? I have an idea... Why don't you call Drac Dravin [Mr. Robinson pauses for thought.] Wait... Wait... I'm not too sure if Drac can answer the phone right now... His head is still lodged in his ass after I wrenched it in there. It's amazing... Just looking to the crowd, [Mr. Robinson spins his head from looking into the crowd then covers his eyes like he just saw Delta Burke naked.] Good gawd! Don't wanna look there anymore... But I look at the sacks of shit that roam the locker room in trunks with nick names like "Quickstrike" and "The Flash"... Kinda weird that I've seen and heard of some of these Gumps before, like the SUBWAY PYSCHO... I've seen him before on a Chiquita Banana commercial -- he was one of the FRUITS. [Big heel pop!] So I'm out here talking shit, and now I'm ready to _beat_ this shit out of you, Shitspeare, no pun intended.... [Mr. Robinson fixes his glare on Shakespeare, removes his "LOOP" tank top, and gyrates while taking off his latex black pants to reveal his basic black wrestling trunks and black boots.] I'm not here to tell everyone what they know, I'm out here to prove what you _don't_ wanna know... The difference between Mr. Robinson and the IIWF is the difference between _man_ and _boy_. Shitspeare, are you the best that this shithole of a league can find to take on the "loop"?! Don't make me laugh! [Big heel pop! Shakespeare takes a step into the centre of the ring. Robinson throws the microphone to Dross, takes a step towards Shakespeare, and spits in his face! Huge heel pop! Shakespeare closes his eyes for a moment, apparently stunned by the disgusting act, and then slowly signals to Dross for the microphone once more. Robinson steps back and folds his arms, a smug grin on his face as he glances across at Super Scott, who nods, a similar smirk on his own face. The crowd falls silent as Billy slowly raises his microphone:] BS: To quote from "Othello", "Jealousy is the green-ey'd monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on." Lo, Mr. Robinson and [with distaste] "Super" Scott... you two are mere pretenders to the throne. The IIWF is the undisputed king of federations -- it stands astride the world like a colossus. You may peep about in its shadow, but you will always be little men, playing little games in the little leagues! [Huge pop! Billy looks out into the crowd. Super Scott has to restrain Mr. Robinson once more.] BS: If you wish to prove yourself, why don't you step into the spotlight? Why don't we settle this now? Mr. Robinson, I throw down the gauntlet to you. Will you pick it up? [The crowd is hushed as Mr. Robinson looks at Shakespeare with a steely gaze. Shakespeare extends the microphone to the angry "loop"er, and gives another mock bow as Robinson snatches the mic away from him.] MR: You wanna fight, Shitspeare? You wanna fight right now?! Bring it on! [Robinson throws the microphone at Dross, who flees the ring, and within seconds, Shakespeare and Robinson are slugging it out in the ring. Super Scott assists Robinson, holding Billy while Robinson nails him with body shots. Together, they tie Billy up in the ropes, and then rain down kicks on his midsection. An official runs down the aisle and enters the ring, immediately forcing Super Scott out of the ring and untying Shakespeare. He signals for the bell. Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: [returning to the commentary booth] Is this a match?! Has the IIWF President sanctioned this to be a match? SR: I guess ol' Dictator Danny figures he's got a better chance of saving Pukespeare from having his career ended if he puts a referee in the ring. [The crowd go nuts as Robinson continues to flail away at Billy with punches and kicks. Robinson drags Shakespeare to his feet and lays him out with a butterfly suplex, and then poses for the crowd, who begin to throw trash into the ring. He flips off the fans, and then drops on Shakespeare with a nonchalant cover -- 1 - 2 - Billy gets a shoulder out.] SR: If that's all it takes to beat a guy in the "loop", no wonder this bozo's managed to rack up twenty straight wins. It takes more than that to put even Pukespeare out. [Robinson drags Shakespeare to his feet again. Billy lashes out with a hard right hand to Robinson's abdomen, doubling the "loop"er over. Shakespeare comes off the ropes and floors Robinson with a kneelift, but then misses with an elbowdrop attempt as Robinson rolls out of the way. Robinson rolls to the outside, and confers with Super Scott. Billy kips up to his feet -- huge pop! -- and then bounces against the ropes before launching himself over the top to the outside with a suicide dive... but Scott pushes Robinson out of the way, and Billy careens into the steel crowd barriers! Huge heel pop!] TD: That bump could cost Billy Shakespeare this match, Steve Roberts! It's a jungle outside the ring! SR: Come on, ref, get those two idiots away from him! TD: I never thought I'd see the day you'd be supporting Shakespeare, Steve. SR: Nor did I, Dross -- and I don't like it one little bit... Look out! [As Billy drags himself to his feet, Super Scott distracts the official, allowing Robinson to hammer Shakespeare from behind with kicks to the ribs. Billy crumples back to the floor, and Robinson chokes him out with some cable from the floor. The referee finally sees what's going on, and leaves the ring, forcing Robinson away. Robinson threatens the referee, but backs off, rolling back into the ring. The official eyes Scott suspiciously, but Scott simply backs away as Billy once again attempts to get to his feet.] TD: This is ridiculous... they're playing the ref like a violin! SR: It's times like this I really wish the IIWF President would invest in eye tests for the match officials. [Shakespeare finally drags himself to his feet and rolls into the ring, beating the official's count. Before he can stand, he is pelted with kicks from Robinson, who then drags him to his feet and whips him across the ring. Billy ducks under a clothesline and then launches himself, taking Robinson off his feet with a flying forearm! Big pop! Shakespeare makes the cover - 1 - 2 - kickout!] TD: There you see just why Shakespeare has been picked as the IIWF's representative in the Summit, Steve -- he's able to turn a match around in the blink of an eye. [Shakespeare pulls Robinson to his feet and attempts a suplex, which Robinson blocks, performing a go-behind on Shakespeare and pulling out a fast German suplex into bridge -- the ref gets in position -- 1 - 2 - Shakespeare kicks out! Both men are quickly back to their feet. Robinson lashes out with a wild right hand, which Shakespeare ducks, and Robinson's momentum carries him round. Shakespeare grabs Robinson around the waist and hauls him over his head in a kind of belly-to-back-suplex, dumping Robinson on the back of his head. Huge pop! Shakespeare gets to his feet and jumps to the middle rope, throwing himself backwards onto the prone Robinson with a moonsault. Big pop! Shakespeare makes the cover - 1 - 2 - kickout!] SR: I'll give this Mr. Robinson guy something, Dross -- he's got a lot of endurance. TD: He and Shakespeare are remarkably evenly-matched here, Steve. Both are great technical wrestlers, comfortable on the mat and in the air. [Shakespeare drags Robinson to his feet and whips him into the ropes. He attempts a crucifix on Robinson on the rebound, but the "loop"er has the presence of mind to drop backwards, landing his full weight hard on Shakespeare. Big heel pop! Robinson gets up, runs his fingers through his buzzcut, and looks to Super Scott. He points to the top rope, and Scott nods with a grimace. Robinson goes to the outside and then climbs to the top rope.] TD: What's Mr. Robinson going to do here? He's taking a long time up there, but Shakespeare isn't moving... SR: Get up, Pukespeare! [Shakespeare drags himself to his feet, but seems groggy, and tumbles forwards, almost hotshotting himself on the top rope as he falls -- which shakes the ropes sufficiently for Robinson to lose his balance, and he tumbles into the ring, catching the referee with a stray elbow as he falls. Pop!] SR: Referee down! Referee down! [Both Shakespeare and Robinson lie, their chests heaving in the ring, while the referee tries to collect himself, nursing the blow to his head. Huge heel pop as Super Scott slides into the ring under the bottom rope, clutching a chair, and helps Robinson to his feet -- before slapping him round the face! Huge shocked pop from the crowd! TD: What?! SR: Hey, Dross, now I'm confused. I thought those two idiots were working together! TD: I'm just as confused as you, Steve Roberts! Super Scott with a jab of the chair to Robinson's lower abdomen... [Robinson is doubled over by the chair blow. Super Scott lays the chair on the mat, and then performs a vicious gutwrench powerbomb on Robinson, his head snapping back right onto the chair! Huge pop! Scott kicks the chair from the ring, and then attempts to revive the referee.] TD: This is incredible! Super Scott has turned on Mr. Robinson! What in hell's name is going on?! SR: The referee's up, Dross! All Pukespeare has to do is make the cover, and Robinson's undefeated streak is going to come to an abrupt end right here in the IIWF! [Billy slowly crawls over to Robinson as the crowd chant "Bil - ly! Bil - ly!" and makes a sloppy cover. The referee moves into position and makes a lethargic count - 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding! Huge pop!] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner as the result of a pinfall: "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare! [The crowd is on its feet as Shakespeare drags himself back to a vertical base. Super Scott slides back into the ring and offers his hand to Shakespeare. Billy eyes Scott suspiciously, and simply steps through the ropes to the outside, ignoring the outstretched hand. Shakespeare groggily makes his way up the aisle, slapping the hands of fans on the way, while Super Scott kicks Robinson out of the ring to the arena floor. An EMT crew make their way down to ringside to brace Mr. Robinson's neck as Scott grabs a microphone. The crowd give a big mixed pop as Super Scott tears off his "THE LOOP" t-shirt and reveals another t-shirt. This one says: "IS DEAD!" and the IIWF crowd _cheers_ this man. Scott looks around for a few more moments, drinking in the cheers of the fans, before leaving the ring, hopping over the steel crowd barriers and disappearing into the crowd to a big mixed pop. Cut to the announcers' desk.] TD: Well, Steve Roberts, what a remarkable turn of events. Super Scott, a man whom many regard as the icon of the so-called "loop", turns his back on the past eighteen months and all his former allies and enemies. SR: My head's still spinning, Dross... I don't know what to make of that at all. TD: Folks, we must move on, but I'm sure there'll be some repercussions from this incident in the weeks to come... Let's get straight back up to the ring. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- NON-TITLE: -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Marty Warnett vs. El Super Gecko -------------------------------- WRITER: DS [Sparkplug Lee steps into the ring. He picks up the torn remnants of Super Scott's "LOOP" t-shirt and serruptitiously slips them inside his jacket.] SR: Did you see that, Dross? What a klepto. [Sparkplug raises the microphone:] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is a non-title contest and it is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, making his way to the ring, hailing from parts unknown, weighing in at 235lbs, here is El Super Gecko! [Big pop as the Gecko waddles out of the entranceway to chants of "You can't hurt the lizard!" He strikes a comical martial arts pose at the top of the aisle and then heads down to the ring.] SR: What a loser. TD: El Super Gecko is a competitor feared throughout the world. He's ended the careers of many respected athletes, Steve Roberts. SR: Yeah, right. RA: And introducing his opponent: hailing from Cardiff, Wales, and weighing in at 245lbs, here is the current IIWF Intercontinental Champion: the "Party Maniac" Marty Warnett! [Big pop as "Cold Gin" starts up over the PA and Warnett comes out into the aisle to a big pop. He runs his fingers through his long brown hair and pushes open his denim jacket to reveal the gleaming Intercontinental Championship belt around his waist. He pats the belt, smiles at the crowd, and begins his walk down the aisle. The hands of many an eager young teenage girl impede his progress, but eventually he makes it into the ring. He mounts one of the corner buckles and raises his arms to the crowd to a big pop as fireworks erupt above the ring.] TD: This man has truly earned the respect of these fans in the time he's been in the IIWF. He never takes a back seat to anyone. SR: Although I hear that he's been known to take quite a few teenage girls to the back seat of his car. TD: Steve, please! At least Marty appears to have gotten over the personal problems which have been plaguing him since he captured the Intercontinental Championship in January. Hang on -- here comes the Lady DeWinter! SR: That's not DeWinter, Dross! It can't be! TD: Her fashion sense may be different, but that's definitely DeWinter! [There is a buzz as the Lady DeWinter makes her way down the aisle. She is stunningly beautiful, as always, but instead of her graceful form being highlighted by the close-fitting lines of an elegant evening dress, she wears a pair of tight jeans and a cropped Marty Warnett t-shirt. Her long brown hair, usually pinned back away from her face, now frames her features, hanging down in artfully messy tendrils. In short, she looks transformed.] SR: I can't believe it! Has she lost her mind, Dross?! TD: It appears that Marty and the Lady DeWinter have really been getting on well recently. She certainly appears to be a very great fan! [Warnett winks at DeWinter as she takes a seat at ringside, crossing her long legs and smiling back up at the IC champ. The referee signals for the bell to start the match, and Warnett turns to face the Gecko, who charges him. Warnett quickly hiptosses Gecko to the mat. The lizard makes a second charge, and again Warnett hiptosses him to the mat. Pop! This time, Gecko is a little more wary as he stands. The two men circle, and lock up. Warnett slips the Gecko into a headlock, and the lizard pushes him into the ropes. Warnett ducks a clothesline and fires back with a flying dropkick. He goes for the cover - 1 - 2 - Gecko kicks out!] TD: A nice dropkick there from Warnett, but it's not enough to put the Gecko away. SR: You can't hurt the lizard, Dross! [Gecko groggily gets back to his feet and is knocked back to the mat by a clothesline from Warnett. Marty leaps to the second buckle and drops an elbow on the lizard, then grabs both of the Gecko's legs. He looks out into the crowd, who give him a big pop! The lizard struggles to free his legs from Warnett's grip, but the IC champ keeps a firm grip, and quickly applies his patented figure four leglock. The Gecko yells out in pain.] TD: It's The End for the Gecko right here, Steve! This is an excruciating hold! SR: Come on, Gecko! Don't tell me you _can_ hurt the lizard! [The Gecko fights the hold for another ten or fifteen seconds, and then the referee signals for the bell. Ding! Ding! Ding! Big pop as the official raises Marty's hand in victory.] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner as the result of a submission: Marty Warnett! [The Gecko rolls from the ring as "Cold Gin" starts up again. Warnett holds the ropes open and DeWinter rises from her ringside seat to join the IC champ in the ring. She raises his arm to a big pop from the crowd. Suddenly, however, there is a disturbance in the aisle.] TD: Uh-oh. Here comes trouble! SR: Here comes Lord Byron! [Byron races down the aisle in his full regalia, complete with cane, which he discards at ringside, to a big heel pop and rolls into the ring. He immediately starts yelling at DeWinter. Warnett steps inbetween Byron and his ward, and receives a hard lariat for his trouble. Warnett rolls on the canvas, clutching his throat. Huge heel pop!] TD: Wow! What a shot from Byron there! Warnett's fighting for his breath. SR: Byron and DeWinter are really ripping into one another, Dross. [Byron grabs DeWinter with one arm and raises his other hand, apparently threatening to hit her. She struggles impetuously, but Byron refuses to let go. He shouts something about being cheap, and she spits in his face. Big pop! Byron is incensed, but just as he winds up to slap DeWinter, he is nailed from behind by Warnett, who clotheslines Byron from the ring over the ropes! Huge pop! Byron picks himself up as Warnett checks on DeWinter, and has to be restrained by the official. Marty signals for a microphone, and one is duly thrown into the ring. With one arm around DeWinter's bare midriff and the other clutching the mic, Warnett speaks breathlessly:] MW: Hey, Byron, you should know better than to try and hit a woman. I don't know what kind of gentleman you think you are, because you sure aren't gentle, and no _man_ needs to hit a defenseless woman to feel big. [Big appreciative pop from the crowd.] SR: [over the headset, sarcastically] Right on, Farty. Sheesh. TD: [over the headset] Please, Steve, violence against women is a serious issue. SR: [over the headset] So are the quarantine laws you're ignoring by wearing that animal on your head, Dross. [The crowd settles as Byron continues to be restrained on the outside.] MW: So you're a little steamed, huh, Byron? You need to prove yourself, right? If you want a war, if you want to feel like a man, then why don't you just get into the ring right here, right now for a title bout? [Huge pop from the crowd! Byron begins to remove his jacket. Warnett looks around at the crowd, smiles and nods.] TD: This isn't going to happen, Steve Roberts. Ring Wars III is still two weeks away -- the title won't be put on the line tonight. SR: Byron's ready, Dross. Byron's ready to take that title from Walnut right here, right now. TD: Well, here comes the IIWF President. Perhaps we'll get a decision here. [A spotlight picks out the IIWF President making his way down to ringside. He confers with the official and the ring announcer, who makes the following announcement:] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, the IIWF President has ruled that since both parties have agreed a verbal contract for a defense of the IIWF Intercontinental Championship here tonight, the match will be sanctioned! Marty Warnett will defend his title against Lord Byron right here tonight! [Excited pop from the crowd. Warnett beckons Byron into the ring, and the aristocrat explodes through the ropes into the squared circle, immediately getting into a slugfest with Warnett. DeWinter quickly bails out and takes up position on the arena floor, slapping the mat in encouragement for Warnett. The IIWF President heads back up the aisle, and the referee rolls into the ring, signalling for the bell. Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: Ring Wars III has come early, Steve! We've got an Intercontinental Championship match right here tonight! SR: And Byron's fired up, Dross! He's going to take that title! [Warnett blocks a haymaker from Byron and fires back with a right hand of his own, catching the nobleman flush on the jaw. Byron staggers backwards, giving Marty enough room to knock him into the ropes with a standing dropkick. Warnett picks himself up and runs at the ropes, attempting to clothesline Byron from the ring, but the Lord drops to the canvas, and Warnett tumbles over the ropes to the outside! Heel pop! Byron follows Warnett out and begins working him over with clubbing double axe-handle blows and kicks to the back.] TD: This is most uncharacteristic of Byron's style, Steve. SR: He's got to be careful, Dross. Sure, he's pissed off with Warnett, but he can't afford to let his anger make him sloppy. The worst punishment he could inflict on that witless Welsh wunderkind is to take his title away, not get a double countout for the sake of a few kicks. [Byron rams Warnett's head into the steel crowd barriers, and then rolls him back into the ring. As he climbs to the apron himself, Warnett manages to pick himself up and nail Byron in the midsection before suplexing him into the ring! Big pop! Both men lie stunned on the canvas, and the referee lays the count - 1 - 2 - 3 - Byron gets to his knees, attempting to shake off the cobwebs of the suplex. He drags Warnett to his feet and executes a vicious Russian legsweep on the IC champ. He goes for the cover - 1 - 2 - kickout! Byron locks Warnett in a reverse chinlock, deliberately facing DeWinter on the outside, who slaps the mat to spur Warnett on. Byron sneers and shouts something about not being able to help Warnett now.] TD: Warnett doesn't want to stay in that chinlock for long -- Byron has the jaw well and truly hooked. In fact, I think the referee ought to be checking whether that's a choke hold. SR: Byron use a choke hold? Please, Dross! [After a minute or so, Warnett appears to be fading in the hold, despite DeWinter cheering him on. The referee raises Warnett's arm, and it drops to the canvas. He raises the arm a second time, and again it drops to the canvas. He raises the arm a third time, and it drops -- but stops short of the canvas! Big pop! DeWinter claps with glee as Warnett begins stamping his feet on the mat. The crowd get behind the champion, chanting "Mar - ty! Mar - ty! Mar - ty!" Warnett manages to get up onto his knees, and blasts Byron with a wild swing of his elbows. Byron releases the hold and Warnett gets to his feet. However, Byron is merely staggered by the elbow shot, and hits Warnett with a Northern Lights Suplex! The referee makes the count - ] SR: One! Two! Three! He got him! TD: No, Steve! Warnett just got his shoulder out! Incredible! [The crowd lets out a relieved sigh as the referee holds up just two fingers. Byron argues with the official, and then turns his scorn on DeWinter, leaning through the ropes to send a few harsh words in her direction. Meanwhile, Warnett has time to regroup, and he gets to his feet, approaching Byron from behind and -- executing a stunning German suplex into a bridge! Huge pop! The referee counts - 1 - 2 - kickout!] TD: And just like that, Warnett nearly puts Byron away! DeWinter is simply too much of a distraction there on the outside! [Warnett is quickly to his feet, and he goes to the outside. He climbs, cat-like, to the top turnbuckle, and as Byron gets to his feet, launches himself with an incredible Frankensteiner from the top rope! Huge pop! Cameras flash all over the arena! Warnett makes the cover - 1 - 2 - kickout!] TD: Incredible! That's instinct, Steve Roberts! Byron doesn't know where he is right now, but he knows that he has to get that shoulder up before the three count! [Warnett drags Byron to his feet and attempts to whip him into the ropes, but Byron reverses, and sends Warnett careening across the ring -- straight into the official, who crumples to the mat! Big pop!] SR: Referee down! Referee down! [Warnett leans down to tend to the official while Byron rolls from the ring to retrieve the cane he had dropped upon entering. Byron approaches DeWinter, wielding the cane in a threatening manner. The Lady shrieks, attracting the attention of Warnett, who quickly rolls from the ring and positions himself inbetween Byron and DeWinter. Byron goes to strike Warnett with the cane, but Warnett grabs it and lashes out with a kick to Byron's midsection. The cane drops to the floor as Warnett brawls with Byron. Meanwhile, behind the two athletes, DeWinter picks up the cane from the floor and appears to be sizing up one of the two men.] TD: DeWinter's got the cane! SR: [sarcastically] With powers of observation like that, Dross, it's no wonder you're paid so well. [As Byron and Warnett brawl, both men have their backs to DeWinter, who seems to find it difficult to get a clear view of her target. In the end, she looks to the crowd, shrugs, and swings the cane -- hitting Warnett across the base of the skull! Warnett hits the mat like a sack of potatoes. Huge heel pop!] TD: DeWinter just nailed Warnett with the cane! SR: [sarcastically] Nothing gets by you, does it, Dross? TD: Has this all been a set-up between Byron and DeWinter the entire time?! Byron now, rolling Warnett back into the ring... the referee is slowly coming to his senses -- he didn't see any of that. Oh, this is wrong, Steve. [No emotion crosses the face of DeWinter as Byron covers Warnett, hooking both legs just to make sure. The referee groggily crawls over to Byron and makes a slow count -- 1 --- 2 --- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding! Huge shocked pop from the crowd! Byron stands and pulls his hair completely out of the ponytail from which it had been trying to escape for much of the match. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and raises his arms, a sneer on his face.] TD: I can't believe this! This result can't stand, surely! SR: Yes! Yes! Yes! We have a new Intercontinental Champion, Dross -- and two weeks ahead of schedule, too! RA: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner... and _NEW_ IIWF Intercontinental Champion, Lord Byron! [Huge heel pop as Byron leaves the ring to grab the Intercontinental Title belt from the timekeeper's table. DeWinter slips away up the aisle as Byron steps back into the ring. He kneels over Warnett, roughly holding his jaw and forcing him, through his semi-conscious haze, to watch as he waves the IC belt in his face. Byron slaps Warnett one more time, then stands and fastens the belt around his waist. He raises his arms once more to the crowd, who continue to jeer in derision. The official checks on Warnett as Byron drinks in the negative reaction.] TD: I have no idea what this result does to the Intercontinental Championship match scheduled for Ring Wars III, Steve... This is a shocking development! SR: No, Dross, this is great news! Finally, we have a worthy Intercontinental Champion! [Byron finally leaves the ring and heads up the aisle, his hands rarely leaving the gold around his waist, as if making sure that it is really there. Warnett is helped to his feet by the still-groggy official, and receives a rousing ovation from the capacity crowd.] TD: In my eyes, Steve Roberts, this man is still the Intercontinental Champion. SR: In my eyes, Dross, he's a loser, just as he's always been. Only now he's not got that title to make him seem more accomplished than he really is. Party's over, Warnett! [Warnett makes his way up the aisle, assisted by the official. Cut to the announcers' table. Roberts is sitting back, a broad grin on his face.] TD: Well, we'll be hearing from the IIWF President later on tonight, so perhaps we can get comments regarding the Intercontinental Championship and Ring Wars III then. In any case, up next we have the IIWF Cruiserweight title match: Ronnie Paris has the opportunity to take the Enigma's belt. Will we see another title change hands here tonight, Steve? SR: Not interested. TD: Well, despite my broadcast colleague's pig-headedness, I firmly believe we're in for an exceptional match. Let's get some comments from the challenger before we get back up to ringside. [Cut to Ronnie Paris in a weight room backstage, running on a treadmill. He turns his head to the camera while continuing to run.] RP: Takezo Musashi, tonight you will face me for your Cruiserweight Title. It's truly an honour to step in with a man of your talent and integrity, and I look forward to this chance to test myself. [Ronnie turns back to the treadmill's console, turning the speed up a notch before continuing to speak.] RP: I've never tried Level 12 before... but I'm going to have to go beyond my limits to beat the Enigma tonight. Takezo, expect all you can handle, and if I'm lucky maybe a little more. [Cut to ringside.] =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- IIWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "Enigma" Takezo Musashi [c] vs. Ronnie Paris -------------------------------------------- WRITER: MP [Sparkplug Lee steps back into the ring.] RA: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a thirty minute time limit, and is for the IIWF Cruiserweight Title! [Big crowd pop!] Introducing first, the challenger... weighing in at 210lbs and hailing from Texas, here is... Ronniiie Paaaarriiis!! [Big crowd pop as "We are the Champions" by Queen starts up over the PA system, and Ronnie Paris steps into the aisle to a big applause. He raises his arms in the air, and heads to the ring, slapping the fans' hands.] TD: Ronnie Paris hasn't been having a good time as of late, what with his problems with Spur and Luke Steele, but he's got a great opportunity here tonight... SR: Did you say pig-headed? [Ronnie Paris steps up to the ring apron and vaults into the ring, holding his arms in the air to another big pop!] TD: You know, The Enigma has proved to be somewhat distracted by the ladder match with Shinja Chow looming on the horizon. He'll need to be focused for this one. SR: I'm not talking to you any more, Dross. Pig-headed?! RA: And his opponent.... [Big crowd pop!] He is the current IIWF Cruiserweight champion, weighing in at 211lbs and hailing from Tokyo, Japan... here is "The Enigma" Tazeeeeko Muuuusaaaaaassshiii! [Huge crowd pop as the Enigma's mystical music starts over the PA system and the Enigma streaks down the aisle, slapping the fan's hands. He leaps up to the ring apron, then to the top rope, and somersaults into the ring, landing with the Cruiserweight title held high in the air! Huge crowd pop!] TD: What an entrance by the Enigma! This must be one of the IIWF's most exciting athletes! SR: Yeah, right. I just hope we don't have any of this sportsmanship stuff... [The referee brings Ronnie Paris and the Enigma together to deliver final instructions, and holds the Crusierweight title up in the air one last time. The Enigma and Paris shake hands curtly, the bell rings, and the two start to circle...] SR: Urgh. I knew it. They should be charged with bringing the sport into disrepute. [Paris and the Enigma move into a swift collar and elbow tie-up, and start struggling for the advantage. The Enigma drops low, trying to move in under Paris' guard, and Paris shifts his weight, using the momentum to throw the Enigma off. The Enigma nods, and the two start to circle again.] TD: Both men are incredibly adept at their individual styles. Paris is an excellent ring technician, the Enigma has speed and outstanding aerial ability. [The two lock up a second time, and this time Paris takes a quick advantage, spinning behind the Enigma in a waistlock, before twisting him to the canvas with an amateur takeover. Musashi covers up as Paris reaches first for his legs, then his arms. Finally, Paris flips around, taking hold of Musashi's head in a facelock...] TD: This is where the Enigma could find himself at a disadvantage. On the canvas, Paris could well prove the superior athlete. SR: Don't suppose there's any chance of either of them having a set of brass knuckles, no? No... thought not... [The Enigma fights back up to a vertical base, and Paris switches the hold into a side headlock, then twists the Engima over his hip, sending him back to the canvas again. Paris tightens the hold and rolls over, pushing the Enigma's shoulders into a pinning position... the referee counts... - 1 - 2 - the Enigma kicks out, and catches Paris in headscissors... Paris rolls to his knees, and flips across the body of the Enigma, pinning his shoulders down again... - 1 - the Enigma rolls out of it, and flips to his feet, catching Paris with a dropkick as he rises!] TD: The Enigma looks to be trying to speed up the pace of the match here... [Paris leaps up again, only to be caught by a swift hip throw by the Enigma! Paris leaps back up, and gets sent straight back to the canvas again with an armdrag... the Enigma keeps hold of the arm, and drops a series of legdrops across Paris' shoulder... the Enigma locks on a crucifix armbar, and forces Paris' shoulders to the canvas... the referee slides into position... - 1 - 2 - kickout by Paris! Paris rolls to his knees, pushing the Enigma into a pinning predicament... - 1 - the Enigma kicks against Paris' shoulder, sending him back down to the mat!] TD: The Enigma has the advantage now, and he's taking it to Paris on the canvas! Paris... trying to find his way out of the hold now... [Paris fights back up to his knees, pulls in the Enigma's head, and rolls back, catching the Enigma in a small package seemingly out of nowhere...] TD: Paris has that hooked in tight! One! Two... [The Enigma scrambles out of the lock, and both men leap away and to their feet. The Enigma comes off the ropes running, and tries a lariat... Paris catches the Enigma in a crucifix, and the momentum sends both men up in the air before Paris rolls the Enigma into the pin! - 1 - 2 - kickout again! Paris switches the hold into a waistlock, and runs the Enigma into the ropes... the Enigma grabs hold as Paris tries to roll him back, and Paris rolls to his feet, before charging the Enigma.] TD: Paris with a clothesline... no! The Enigma drops his head at the last second and sends Paris over the top with a backdrop! And Paris is down on the outside! SR: Aw... Widdle Wonnie's fallen, and he can't get up! [Paris pushes himself to his feet, just as the Enigma comes back to the ropes, and he slingshots himself over, landing on Paris' shoulders... Huge crowd pop!] TD: Slingshot Frankensteiner?! What a move! The Enigma wastes no time, rolling Paris back into the ring... [The Enigma leaps up to the ring apron, and again slingshots himself, this time back into the ring, landing on Paris with a splash! Big pop! The Enigma hooks the leg, and the referee counts... - 1- 2 - kickout by Paris! The Enigma pulls him back up to his feet, and sets him into position for a snap suplex... Heel pop!] SR: Now things may just get that much more interesting... TD: Steve Kowalski's on his way down to ringside here... this may be trouble for the champion... SR: Trouble for them both, you mean... [As Kowalski slowly makes his way down the aisle, taunting the jeering fans, the Enigma picks Paris up again, and sends him back down with a body slam... he starts to climb the turnbuckles, sees Kowalski and decides against it, dropping back off and returning to Paris...] TD: Look what a distraction Kowalski is proving to be already! He's caused the Enigma to rethink.... [As the Enigma walks back towards Paris, he springs up, pulling the Enigma into an inside cradle... the referee counts... - 1 - 2 - kickout by the Enigma! Both men roll to their feet, and the Enigma reacts first, lashing out with a spinning heel kick that knocks Paris flat on his back! The Enigma pulls Paris back up, keeping his eyes on Kowalski...] SK: [from ringside] How much do ya weigh, little man? [The Enigma ignores the jibe, Irish whipping Ronnie Paris into the ropes... Paris ducks the backhand chop attempt, and both men come back off the ropes, hitting each other with a double clothesline... both men start to roll to their feet at the same time, and Kowalski moves into the Enigma's line of sight again...] SK: Hey, rice farmer! I'm talking to you! TD: Kowalski's certainly being vocal here tonight... SR: Hey, if the man wants to get his point across, by all means, let him! TD: Yes, I noticed you sat up and took notice when he arrived... [The Enigma once again ignores him and backs into the centre of the ring, turning to be hit by a forearm from Paris! He responds with a kick at Paris' stomach. Paris catches, and the Enigma tries an enzuigiri, Paris ducks, and the Enigma lands on his feet! Big pop! Paris yanks the Enigma closer and into a belly-to-belly waistlock, flipping him over into a Northern Lights suplex... - 1 - 2 - ] TD: Kickout by the Enigma at the last second! That was close! [Kowalski watches, eyes narrowed, as Paris pulls the Enigma up to his feet and backs him into the ropes, sending him cross ring with an Irish whip... Paris nails him with a kick to the midsection, hooks his neck and grapevines the leg, sending him flying to the canvas in a Russian legsweep... Paris rolls across the Enigma... - 1 - 2 - kickout!] TD: Another close call for the Enigma! This has been all action right from the start! Paris looks determined to make a name for himself here! [Paris pulls the Enigma back up again, and gets caught by a blow to the stomach! He takes a step backwards, and the Enigma lunges out again!] TD: And a double chop to the collarbones stuns Paris! The Enigma whips him to the ropes, Paris ducks the reverse knife edge, both men come back off.. and Paris with a sleeperhold! SR: It's a choke! TD: I don't think so, Steve, Paris has that hooked on perfectly! SR: Trust me, I know the man, he's desperate, it's a choke. [The Enigma starts to flag, and staggers towards the turnbuckles... Paris keeps the hold locked on tight, and the Enigma drops to one knee! Big crowd pop! The referee asks for the submission, and the Enigma struggles to his feet, steps towards the turnbuckles and leaps, planting both feet on the top rope...] TD: What's he...? Incredible! The Enigma reversed the sleeperhold into a pin! [The referee counts Ronnie Paris' shoulders down... - 1 - 2 - Paris kicks out at the last second! Both men rise, and the Enigma nails Paris with a thrust kick to the stomach, before whipping him across to the opposite turnbuckles...] TD: Paris reverses... the Enigma hits face first... German suplex by Paris! This could do it! [The referee counts... - 1 - 2 - the Enigma kicks out of it! Paris shakes his head and picks the Enigma up, whipping him into the ropes... the Enigma reverses, and connects with an over-the-head belly-to-belly suplex, and makes the cover... - 1 - 2 - weak kickout by the Paris! Kowalski snorts, and starts to head back up the aisle..] SK: Just a few more pounds an' I'll be in there, Chan! TD: That guy is unbelievable... SR: Ain't he just? [The Enigma pulls Paris back to his feet, backs him into the turnbuckles... he lifts Paris up, setting him on the top rope...] TD: This could spell the end here... Paris had better do something quick... [The Enigma starts to climb up after Ronnie Paris, and receives a blow to the head as Paris recovers slightly.. The Enigma sways back, and a kick from Paris sends him falling back to the canvas! Big pop! Paris stands up on the second turnbuckles, and leaps off, twisting into an elbowdrop... The Enigma rolls away at the last second! Both men are down! Big crowd pop!] TD: The referee starts to count as both men start to stir.... it looks like the Enigma is going to reach his feet first... [Both men stagger up to their feet, and the Paris dives at the Enigma, who ducks the lariat at the last second! Paris turns, and the Enigma doubles him up with a reverse savate kick! Big pop!] TD: The Enigma with a swinging neckbreaker! Cover that man! SR: No! The Enigma's going up to the top! [The Enigma starts climbing the ropes, while Ronnie Paris shows no sign of stirring on the canvas. The Enigma reaches the top, and holds both hands in the air...] TD: This could be it... the Enigma's giving the signal.... SR: He's taking too long, Dross... he's gonna miss... [The Enigma leaps off, and camera flashes go off around the arena as the Enigma performs the incredible Starsault Press, landing squarely on top of Ronnie Paris! The Enigma hooks the leg tight... - 1 - 2 - ] TD: Three! He got him! RA: Here is your winner via. pinfall, and still IIWF Cruiserweight champion.... "The Enigma" Tazeeeeko Muuuusaaaaaassshiii!! [The Enigma is presented the Cruiserweight title by the official, and holds it high in the air to a huge crowd pop. Ronnie Paris rolls to his knees, shaking his head in disbelief. The Enigma walks over, and holds out his hand, and Paris allows him to help him to his feet, and both men shake hands to another big crowd pop! Paris leaves the ring and starts to walk back to the dressing rooms to a round of applause as the Enigma continues to celebrate in the ring...] TD: All credit to Ronnie Paris... he really gave it his all here, and we saw an excellent match between two outstanding athletes. A terrific win for the Enigma though, and that will be just what he needed to take him into Ring Wars III on a high... Steve? SR: I just wish Kowalski had stuck around. He really livened this match up. TD: Before the final two matches of the evening, let's go backstage to Larry Morton, who is with IIWF President Dan Spreadbury. I imagine that President Dan will have a great deal to talk about tonight. SR: Whoopeedoo. [Cut to a corridor backstage in the IIWF Coliseum. Larry Morton stands with the IIWF President.] LM: Thank you, gentlemen. I'm here with the IIWF President. Mr. President, what a night it's been thus far here in the Coliseum this week -- and still more action to come. DS: It's certainly been a night of surprises, Larry, there's no doubting that. LM: First of all, any comments regarding the further incident between the so-called "loop" and the IIWF? DS: Of course. After the original incursion by Mr. Robinson and Scott Hibbs last Saturday Night, I pursued the possibility of taking legal action against the PCW, the league which Mr. Robinson chiefly represents. I have been informed by the IIWF's legal department that we have a very strong case for pursuing a damages settlement, but in the spirit of sportsmanship and good relations in the run-up to the Superstar Summit, I am prepared to let legal action drop -- even in the light of the further incursion tonight -- if the PCW offers a full and public apology forthwith and ensures that the perpetrators of such actions as we have seen in the past two weeks are severely disciplined. LM: Have you had any response to that demand? DS: Not as yet, Larry. If I do not receive an apology from the PCW in time to air it here next Saturday Night, then I shall have no choice but to pursue litigation. LM: Mr. President, why did you agree to sanction the match between Billy Shakespeare and Mr. Robinson at such short notice? DS: The situation as I saw it was this: on the one hand, we have Mr. Robinson and "Super" Scott, two individuals who came to the IIWF tonight looking for a fight, regardless of the legalities; on the other hand, we have the IIWF's representative, "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare. Having those three individuals in the ring was a very volatile situation, and I opted to get an official out there in the hopes that enforcing the rules of a wrestling match would lead to the least likelihood for injury through brawling. Having the greatest of faith in the athletes under contract to the IIWF, and chief among them in this instance Billy Shakespeare, of course, I knew that the IIWF could shine in such a scenario. LM: Not to mention, of course, the poetic justice of seeing Mr. Robinson go down to the first defeat of his career -- right here in the IIWF. DS: [with a slight smile] No comment, Larry. LM: Of course. In that case, Mr. President, may I ask you about the Intercontinental Championship situation? DS: Yes, Larry. The turn of events this evening was somewhat unfortunate, and I sympathise with Marty Warnett over the manner in which he lost the title to Lord Byron. These two men will still meet at Ring Wars III, but now Byron will be the champion, and Warnett the challenger. I shall be making an announcement concerning the removal of outside factors from this match -- such as the Lady DeWinter -- here next week. LM: Any other news regarding Ring Wars III, Mr. President? DS: Yes, Larry. You heard the Sandman challenge Steve "the Fury" Kowalski to a Street Fight Match earlier tonight. Well, I spoke with the Fury a few minutes ago, and I can report that he is happy for this match to be sanctioned -- however, I will be looking into the safety issues before signing it. I can also report that special stipulations have been added to two of the matches already announced for the card: the encounter between Billy Shakespeare and Brody Thunder will now be a "Winner Must Use Loser's Finisher" match, which means that in order to win, Thunder must pin Shakespeare using the Curtain Call, and for Shakespeare to win, he must pin Thunder after the Thunderbolt. LM: That certainly adds an interesting angle to an already intriguing match. DS: It certainly does. And as Tim Dross revealed in midweek, the match between "Sychosys" Joe Petrow and Dirt Dog Unique Allah will now be a "Seven Tables of Fear" match, in which the ring will be surrounded by, surprisingly enough, seven tables, and in order to win, one man must put the other through four tables. LM: That's going to be a brutal encounter. DS: It certainly is -- unorthodox stipulations for two unorthodox athletes. LM: Regarding the Wild Card Match -- can you confirm the status of the American Patriot? DS: Yes, Larry. The American Patriot has suffered a nasty separation of the shoulder, and he will _not_ be competing in the Wild Card Match at Ring Wars III. I will announce his replacement here next Saturday Night. LM: Thank you very much, Mr. President. Anything more to add? DS: Not right now, Larry. LM: Thanks for your time. Back to you at ringside, gentlemen. [Cut back to ringside.] TD: Thanks, Larry. The card for Ring Wars III just keeps getting bigger and better, Steve. SR: Yeah. If I wasn't going to be there anyway, I might even order it on pay-per-view. TD: Apparently, some eighty thousand tickets have been sold, with the remaining ten thousand to be released this Monday. Call Ticketmaster as soon as possible to stake your claim for one of those valuable tickets -- and if you miss out in the last minute rush, you can get just as close to the action by calling your local cable operator and ordering this incredible event. Don't miss one second of the action! Okay, folks, let's get back up to the ring for more IIWF action. This next encounter pits two unlikely partnerships against one another -- the Subway Psycho teams with Creed to face Mad Dog Watkins and Casey James. These four men are going to clash at Ring Wars III, and we're going to get a taste of that action right now. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Subway Psycho & Creed vs. Mad Dog Watkins & Casey "Blackheart" James -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= WRITER: DK ["Foul Taste of Freedom" starts playing, and the crowd comes to its feet with a HUGE heel pop as Brian Lau appears at the head of the aisle, followed by Mad Dog Watkins and IIWF World Champion Casey James, who badmouths the fans at ringside. The trio walks down to the ring, and Brian Lau takes his spot outside the ring as James and Watkins enter.] RA: The following tag team contest is set for one fall. Introducing first, accompanied by Brian Lau, first, weighing in at 269 pounds, this is MAD DOG WATKINS! [Heel Pop!] His partner, weighing in at 340 pounds, he is the reigning IIWF World Champion, this is CASEY "BLACKHEART" JAMES! [HUGE Heel Pop!] TD: Well, Steve, we are set for what should be a cataclysmic explosion! James and the Psycho in one ring! Watkins and Creed in one ring! This should be fun! SR: You've got that right! I'm going to love it when Watkins skins that loser Creed, and I'm going to love it even more when the Psycho gets his brains beat out by King Casey James! TD: I'm not so sure that the ring can hold all of the mass we're about to see, but one thing's for sure... The crowd is going to get their money's worth tonight! SR: Look at all the morons wearing those "CEO" shirts... what a waste of money! It's pathetic! ["Crazy Train" begins to play, and the massive heel pop begins to change over to a BALLISTIC face pop!] RA: And their opponents, accompanied by the "CEO" Jack Montgomery and Tiger Claw! First, weighing in at 275 pounds, he is known as CREED! [Massive face pop!] His partner weighs in at 255 pounds, he is a former IIWF World Champion, this is the SUBWAY PSYCHO! [The roof is nearly blown off the Coliseum as the entourage, led by Montgomery and followed by Creed, the Psycho and then Tiger Claw, walks down the aisle! Montgomery wears a black and red shirt with the lettering "Anyone...Anywhere...Anytime" on the front, and "Creed vs. Watkins: Ring Wars 3" on the back. Creed's fans, wearing the same shirts in the stands, stand and salute their favorite wrestler, and the Psychos cheer the subway dweller on as the two enter the ring, engaging in an immediate staredown with James and Watkins. Claw glares at Lau on the outside, and Montgomery finds a seat...] TD: I think there's enough energy and emotion in this match... so much, in fact, that the referee may have his hands full! SR: There shouldn't even BE a ref for this type of match, you should just let these four guys get it on however they want! That's the way it should be! TD: Folks, buckle your safety belts, cause this thing's going to be furious! It looks as if Watkins and the Psycho will start out! [Creed backs out of the ring into his corner, and James does the same into his corner, chatting with Lau about strategy. Watkins and the Psycho jaw with each other until the bell rings, then Watkins nails the Psycho with a huge overhead right! The Psycho retaliates with one of his own, and the match starts off fast as both men slug each other into the neutral corner! The Psycho turns Watkins into the corner and just fires away, eventually causing Watkins to slump down! The Psycho is fired up, and whips Watkins into the other corner, and follows in, enabling Watkins to get a big boot up! Watkins follows with a MASSIVE clothesline, but the Psycho gets right back up! Watkins tries a scoop slam, but the Psycho blocks and sends a double-axehandle into the lower back of Watkins! The Mad Dog doubles over, and the Psycho uses a quick DDT! POP!] TD: The Subway Psycho has started quickly here... he took one hell of a shot just moments ago, and he bounced right back up! SR: This match is just getting started, Dross... [Watkins rolls over to his corner, tagging in the big Casey James! HEEL POP! James steps in and motions the Psycho on, but Subway simply shakes his head, and tags in Creed, drawing a few words from pro-James fans. Creed steps in and sizes the bigger Casey James up, James asking for Creed to hit him. Creed runs off the ropes and shoulderblocks James, to no effect! Creed does the move again, and James wobbles a little bit! POP! Creed runs off the ropes a third time, ducks under a clothesline attempt, and nails James flush with a beautiful rocket shoulderblock, flooring the Champion! MASSIVE POP!] TD: What a shoulderblock that was! [James staggers back to his feet, and Creed gets a side headlock on. James simply lifts Creed up and throws him across the ring into a corner, then when Creed bounces out, he side suplexes him! HEEL POP! James talks with Lau, then with lau's advice, tags in Watkins! The Mad Dog anxiously leaps into the ring and drags Creed up! Watkins slaps Creed right across the face! Creed shows no reaction! Watkins does it again, to no reaction! Montgomery screams "Two Weeks, Creed!", and when Watkins slaps Creed one more time, Creed simply tags back in the Psycho!] TD: Creed refused to hit Watkins! SR: What a moron! This is wrestling! The goal of wrestling is to slug the other guy into submission, not to _resist_ slugging him! What the hell is Creed thinking?! TD: Creed wants to wait until Ring Wars 3 to fight Watkins, and it appears that's what he's going to do. [A few Watkins fans cheer "Who's your daddy? Who's your daddy?", as they did a week ago. Creed is unaffected, and the Psycho and Watkins lock up in center ring. Watkins pokes the Psycho in the eye, then sets him up and performs a great Brainbuster in the center of the ring! HEEL POP! Watkins yells to Creed, "That's you, pup!", before running off the ropes and missing a leg drop! The Psycho gets to his feet, and as Watkins comes to his feet, executes a flying cxross body-block! 1 -- 2 -- KICKOUT! Watkins shows some power in flinging the Psycho off, then gets to his feet, and is met with a flying forearm, sending the Mad Dog to the mat again! Cover.. 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! Watkins gets up again, and is dropkicked over the ropes and to the outside! Casey James leaps off the apron and consoles his downed partner...] TD: Despite Creed's refusal to lock horns with Watkins, the Psycho is really dominating the Mad Dog in this match... WAIT A MINUTE! SR: That was great! [As The Psycho taklks with Creed, James enters the ring and BLASTS the Psycho from behind with a knee, sending the Psycho into Creed and levelling the Psycho in the ring! Creed goes flying off the apron and onto the floor, and James is all over the Psycho in the ring! He whips him off the ropes, and executes a flawless powerslam onto the Psycho! HUGE HEEL POP! Cover... 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! James brings the Psycho up and executes a piledriver! HEEL POP! 1 -- 2 -- Shoulder up! James barks out some obsenities at the Psycho before dragging him up again and whipping him off the ropes, executing a hotshot across the ropes, sending the Psycho down on the canvas gasping for air!] SR: Casey James has taken charge of this match in a heartbeat! TD: And he did it in customary Syndicate fashion... From behind! [Watkins climbs back to the apron and gets the tag from James, and the two of them lift the Psycho high into the air in a vertical press, and drop him face first! HUGE HEEL POP! Montgomery looks concerned, and Lau is loving the match as Watkins drags the Psycho up. He lifts him up and hoists him onto the top turnbuckle! Watkins punches the Psycho twice before climbing up alongside! Watkins then superplexes the Psycho off the top to a MASSIVE Heel pop! The cover, the count... 1 -- 2 -- KICKOUT! The Psycho kicks out with a split second to spare! Watkins can't believe it!] TD: Time and time again, the Subway Psycho takes everything that is dished out and keeps coming back for more! SR: No kidding. It makes me want to puke. [Watkins whips the Psycho off the ropes and surprises everybody in the arena with a sleeperhold! The Psycho starts to slump down, but then straightens up, turns into the sleeper, and back suplexes Watkins! HUGE POP! Watkins is up quickly, and brings the Psycho up. he spins the Subway dweller around, and gets BLASTED with a huge lariat! The Psycho drops Watkins! The crowd is really urging on the Psycho to make the tag now, as Watkins crawls towards James!...] TD: The race is on now! Can the Psycho get to Creed in time??? SR: If he doesn't, this match is over! Come on, Watkins! [Watkins is able to roll and tag in James, who flies into the ring and grabs the Psycho's foot! The Psycho turns and takes James' head off with a quick enziguiri! HUGE POP! The Psycho is down in the ring after the effort, and James starts to get to his feet again, but just as James is able to reach the Psycho, the Psycho lunges and tags in Creed! MASSIVE FACE POP! Creed hits the ring afire, slugging James with three hard rights before running off the ropes and dropping the Champion with a mammoth forearm blow! Watkins is still down in his corner, and Creed is going to work on James, dragging him up and executing a fantastic front-face gutwrench suplex! Creed then holds his left, gloved hand up in the air, and the crowd Pops in anticipation! Creed watches as James gets up, then sends his left hand right under the chin of James! As the chokeslam is about to be executed, Watkins rushes into the ring and bulldogs Creed down!] TD: Get him out of there! [Watkins is all over Creed, and as Creed is overwhelmed. the Psycho reenters the frey as the match breaks down! The Psycho comes to Creed's aid, suplexing Watkins over! 1 -- 2 -- James, inches away from being chokeslammed, now saves Watkins from being pinned! James pulls hte Psycho up, and with Creed out of the equation for now, the two whip the Psycho off the ropes! A double clothesline is ducked, however, and the Psycho comes back with a crucifix on Watkins! James is tripped up by a semi-aware Creed, keeping him away from Psycho's pin on Watkins! 1 -- 2 -- 3! All hell breaks loose as James starts to pummel Creed, and as Watkins gets released, he starts brawling with the Psycho!] TD: The Subway Psycho has won this match for him and Creed, but this thing isn't over yet! SR: It's payback time! [Brody Thunder races down to the ring and enters the fray, forming a five-man ruckus in the ring, with Creed and the Psycho battling the odds against James, Watkins and Thunder! The Jobber Justice Squad, along with many security personnel, storm the ring, but they can't keep the men apart!] TD: Folks, this is just a taste of what you are going to see at Ring Wars III! There's no love lost here at all! SR: This is great! I think Creed is busted open! TD: Fans, we've got to take a short break, but we'll be right back after these messages from our sponsors with tonight's main event! Don't go away! [Cut to commercials. Cut back to the announcers' table. The ringside area has been cleared and the crowd is beginning to settle once more.] TD: Welcome back, folks. During the break, security managed to pull those five men apart, but what a melee that was! Anyway, we're steadily approaching the end of another eventful night here in the IIWF.... SR: Your brother's name is Hoss? TD: ...but before that, we have our long-antipated main event... SR: Hoss Dross? Hoss Dross? TD: ...at least, long-anticipated by one "Sychosys" Joe Petrow, whose very reason for continuing his wrestling career here in the IIWF has been to get Dan Kauffman in the ring. SR: What, are your other brothers named Little Joe and Hop Sing? Hop Sing Dross! Ha! "Me like slobberknocker." Ha! TD: I'm sorry, Steve, were you saying something? SR: Aw, come on, Dross...it's only fun it you play along. TD: [smiling] Let's get to ringside. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Dan "Flash" Kauffman vs. Joe Petrow =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= WRITER: JJ [Sparkplug Lee dons a red and black "Ring Wars 3 - March 22" baseball cap and takes the mic...] SL: The following contest is tonight's main event, and it is set for one fall... Introducing first... weighing 227 lbs. and residing in Tokyo, Japan... JOE PETROW! [Big pop as Petrow quietly appears at the top of the aisle and efficiently makes his walk to the ring. Not only is there an absence of theme music... but Petrow's entire appearance is a spartan one, plain black trunks and boots... and Petrow is clean shaven, looking from a distance like a man some ten years younger.] SR: Who the hell is that? TD: That's the chameleon of the IIWF -- and I'm sure not talking about the Gecko. Joe Petrow has shown an ability... heck, a need to remake himself for every new bout. SR: Who the hell is that? [Petrow does not acknowledge his Sychopaths while performing his pre-bout stretching exercises, which of course, causes them to only increase their fervor.] SL: His opponent... ["Zero" by Smashing Pumpkins begins to a big pop from the crowd] he weighs 230lbs. and is from Hagerstown, Maryland. He is the former IIWF Heavyweight Champion... DAN "FLASH" KAUFFMAN! ["Kauff-man, Kauff-man, Kauff-man!" is heard throughout pockets of the IIWF Coliseum as the man himself absent-mindedly slaps the outstretched hands over the railing as he walks to the ring.] TD: Here is a man who is on his way back, Steve Roberts. You saw it in his victory last week over Serge Annis... this is a man who is building, building to that titanic Ring Wars match against "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley. SR: Yeah, who's the only reason why he beat Serge Annis. TD: Be that as it may, Dan Kauffman made Serge Annis submit right in the middle of the ring... and we'll see if he can duplicate that feat against... well, this is an interesting tactic from Petrow. [With Kauffman approaching, Petrow drops to his knees, getting on all fours as he places his palms flat on the mat. Kauffman shakes his head as he approaches... then motions for Petrow to get up.] SR: I'll tell you what Petrow's doing, he's setting Kauffman up, he's in an amateur stance and when Kauffman comes over... bam... hello Martina! [Petrow waits, staring straight ahead as Kauffman gives a shrug of his shoulders... and kicks Petrow smack in the middle of the forehead! Pop! Petrow writhes momentarily on the ground, then snaps to his feet and stares hard at Kauffman, who smacks him across the face and yells at him to defend himself. Petrow recoils from the shot, then returns... now getting a little closer to Kauffman.] TD: Well, we are gonna see that fight after all, I don't know if Petrow wanted a technical matchup or if it was a bluff, but right now it's gonna turn nasty. [Petrow doesn't say anything to Kauffman -- and moves away from the former champ... dropping again to his knees and returning to the amateur stance on the mat. Kauffman shakes his head and looks out into the crowd, many of his fans exhorting him to lockup with the waiting Petrow. Kauffman then quickly dives atop, establishing a reverse chinlock which Petrow quickly escapes... maneuvering into a Japanese armbar which he combines with an inverted head scissors. Kauffman looks to counter, but Petrow is too quick... wrenching the arm and moving to a half-body scissor that takes Kauffman off-balance. Kauffman makes a move to the ropes... and Petrow is there again, moving from the scissor to a bridge and then a surfboard which gets a pop from his fans and a 1 - 2 - kickout by Kauffman.] TD: I'll tell you what, Joe Petrow has come here to wrestle Dan Kauffman -- and I don't think the former champ is ready for it. SR: I'm not ready for it, Dross. Bring back Kowalski and Thunder. These guys are makin' me sleepy. [Kauffman breaks the hold and rises... missing a clothesline as he is taken down with a fireman's carry into a knucklelock that Kauffman breaks with a jab to the eye.] SR: That'll stop an elephant, Dross. [Kauffman is up and attacking, driving Petrow back with three big european uppercuts and an Irish whip into a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker and a cover... 1 - 2 - No. Big Pop as he whips Petrow to farside and then catches him with a swinging neckbreaker on his return and a cover... 1 - 2 - kickout by Petrow. Kauffman drags Petrow to his feet and unleashes a series of right hands that back Petrow into the corner. Kauffman delivers a half dozen fast thrust kicks which cause Petrow to slump against the buckle. Big pop!] TD: Well, Kauffman sure has brought the fight right to Joe Petrow... but Petrow isn't putting up a whole heck of a lot of resistance here. SR: Come on Petrow, hit him, hit him with the steps, with the bell, here, hey Joe, hit him with my boot. [Kauffman whips cross-corner and Petrow reverses... sending Kauffman to the corner and hopping up to the midbuckle where he is then able to come down on the neck and shoulders of the charging Petrow... Sychosys catches Kauffman, tightly grabbing onto his legs and then flipping each of them backward... into a driving modified suplex and a cover... 1 - 2 - NO! Kauffman is barely able to get his shoulder up! Pop!] TD: What a maneuver by Petrow... and Kauffman is hurt... Kauffman came down hard right on his neck and Kauffman is hurt! SR: I've got some knucks, I've got a shiv... damn it, Petrow, get on him! [Petrow moves to Kauffman...and then backs away, shaking his head as Kauffman collects himself.] TD: Well, look at that. Joe Petrow is gonna let Dan Kauffman recuperate here, well, if that's not sportsmanship... I don't know what it is. SR: It's the darkest day in the history of this sport, Dross. A man sees another man on the ground -- and doesn't put the boots to him -- it's just wrong. [Kauffman is up, and it's he who gets into Petrow's face, now neither man speaks, each staring the other dead in the eye, neither blinking - neither taking a step back, the crowd is now on its feet, chanting for their respective favorite... as Petrow turns away from Kauffman... and raises his hands in the air. Kauffman charges... spinning Petrow around and balling his right hand into a fist... and dropping it to his side! Pop from the crowd. The two men now stand face to face again, but only momentarily as a soundless understanding seems to pass between them... and then Kauffman offers up a collar and elbow.] TD: Well, how about this? These two men are going to lock up again... I think Dan Kauffman is prepared to wrestle this man. [The two men lock up, Kauffman moving to an armwringer... stepover... stepover again, increasing the pressure on the shoulder of Petrow. Sychosys drops to his knees and executes a crisp forward roll that breaks the hold and converts it to a wristlock. Petrow moves to a hammerlock... which Kauffman reverses in a standing switch and then Petrow does the same, moving to a double wristlock and then to a hammerlock and then a waistlock. Kauffman is able to reverse the waistlock and moves for a suplex... blocked... standing switch... and Petrow feigns a suplex, instead dragging Kauffman's arm between his legs and flipping him over into a pinfall attempt... 1 - 2 - no!] SR: This is no good, Dross. You suppose those "loop" guys need an announcer? TD: I don't think the fans agree with you, Soundbite, this might be a technical matchup... but these guys are going at it frantically, look at the Greco-Roman knucklelock by Petrow... the quick abdominal stretch by Kauffman... into a single leg takedown by Petrow! Phenomenal! [The crowd does begin to pop as each man applies and then reverses a submission hold on the mat, Kauffman able to briefly apply a falcon leglock which Petrow reverses into a figure four... leading Kauffman to grab for the ropes. Petrow breaks clean and each man rises again... but Kauffman dives down, rolling up Petrow for a quick... 1 - reverse cover for Petrow 1 - 2 - another reverse and Kaufman - 1 - kickout, both men are up. Pop! Kauffman moves for a whip... Petrow reverses and Kauffman goes off farside... Petrow sunset flips into a cover... 1 - 2 - no... but Petrow is on him again with a sharp bridging back suplex that takes Kauffman down into another... 1 - 2 - NO! Pop! Kauffman is up and gives Petrow a shove! Petrow does not retaliate, instead getting right back in Kauffman's face and staring hard at the ex-champ.] TD: I will tell you something, the electricity in this arena is something special, these two men have put on a clinic tonight... I just wonder... [Kauffman shoves hard at Petrow again, taking him off his feet... Petrow hops back at Kauffman... and is shoved down again! Pop as Petrow rises even faster, drawing right to Kauffman... and Irish whipping him -- pass -- into a facelock for the modified DDT!] TD: He's gonna hit him with the Bullet Train From Hell! SR: Yes! Yes! [Petrow sets up... but instead brings the maneuver all the way over into a cradling suplex and a cover - 1 - No... because it's Kauffman who goes to his knees and pulls out of someplace a sliding cradle for a... 1 - 2 - NO! Kickout by Petrow! Both men are to their feet and Kauffman whips Petrow farside and sends him down with a drop toe hold, Kauffman stays at the legs with a half-crab and then moves for a painful floating armbar that causes Petrow to pound the mat! Kauffman turns Petrow over...] TD: That's a Quickstriker! That's a Quickstriker! Kauffman's locked on a Quickstriker, he's got that hold on Petrow like he had it last week on Serge Annis and Sychosys is in no man's land! SR: He's done, he's done... it's going to Martina. [Every fan in the building is on his feet... the "Petrow" chants battling the "Kauffman" chants for verbal supremacy... Kauffman has the scorpion leglock wrenched in, right in the middle of the ring as Petrow struggles, the official continually asking for a submission... which Petrow does not give... the strain clearly evident on the face of the man who now looks every bit the grizzled ring veteran... every one of Joe Petrow's years showing on his face as he tries to do something... anything to keep the match alive. The official asks again... Petrow screams "NO, NO, NO, NO"... refusing to give up, refusing to submit. Kauffman's frustration is showing, his hold weakening just slightly...] TD: Joe Petrow's powering out of the hold! Joe Petrow is gonna break this hold! Joe Petrow is gonna... REVERSE THIS HOLD! HE'S GOT A FIGURE FIVE LEGLOCK ON DAN KAUFFMAN! [Petrow surgically extricates himself from the hold and now has Kauffman locked down... it is Kauffman who is pounding... nearly biting down on his own shoulder because of the pain. Petrow is nodding his head feverishly as his devoted Sychopaths rush to the retaining barrier, stomping... clapping... screaming for their man to put Kauffman away...] TD: He won't quit! Dan Kauffman won't quit! What a war! What a flat war! [Petrow cinches down, applying his contorted submission hold on seven separate pressure points in the lower torso alone... Petrow rocking back... rocking back as Kauffman begins to bend... begins to bend... begins to... bend to the mat... Dan Kauffman's shoulders go down and the official moves for a cover...] TD: ONE! [Kauffman frantically looks for escape... but his shoulders remain planted on the canvas...] TD: TWO! [The Sychopaths are all on their feet, the emotion overtaking many of them who now clearly have tears streaming down their faces as the official brings his arm to the mat...] TD: NO! KAUFFMAN BROKE THE HOLD! DAN KAUFFMAN IS OUT! [A phenomenal roar goes up from the bowels of the arena... as if the entire flood of good will and IIWF affection comes down on the ring in a torrent as he rises to his feet... amazingly pulling himself to his feet as Petrow follows... two warriors of the squared circle... men who have challenged each other's uppermost technical limit...] SR: What the hell is that? What is that? TD: That is -- that is Dirt Dog Unique Allah! And he's coming down from the rafters! [Kauffman and Petrow look to the sky to see the ragged Unique in a rapid descent...] TD: LOOK OUT, JOE! [As Petrow's attention was momentarily taken by the Dirt Dog... he was completely oblivious to the onrushing Medusa Rage... who waffles him in the back with a steel chair! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: Oh, no! Oh, no! This is just wrong! [Medusa batters Petrow with the chair until he is able to be reached by Unique, who crashes down upon him... hooks him up... and sends him down with his own version of the Bullet Train to Hell... Petrow's head boring down onto the steel chair. Heel Pop!] SL: Your winner... as a result of a disqualification... "SYCHOSYS" JOE PETROW! [Angry hoots and hollers by the discouraged fans, upset at the conclusion of such a match... and they are not alone as Dan Kauffman prevents Unique from doing further damage to Petrow by shoving him away. Unique returns the shove and motions as if to strike the ex-champ were he not to move out of the way.] TD: We might see something here, Steve Roberts. Dan Kauffman is actually keeping Dirt Dog from attacking Petrow! [Dirt Dog explains that he doesn't have a beef with Kauffman... but he owes Petrow and that Kauffman should move out of the "muh-fuh'n' way!" Kauffman pauses for a moment... then responds with a big right hand to Dirt Dog! Huge pop! Kauffman lands another right hand and another huge pop as he whips Unique farside... and into a spinebuster that sends Unique hard into the mat for a roar the likes of which is rarely heard even in the IIWF Coliseum!] TD: Did you see that? Did you see that?! How many times have we seen that spinebuster from Dan Kauffman? Tremendous! Listen to this crowd! SR: I'm gonna be ill. [The chants are now frighteningly loud... ringing throughout every corner of the IIWF Coliseum... "KAUFF - MAN! KAUFF - MAN! KAUFF - MAN!" The former fan favorite stands with his hands on his hips in the middle of the ring, looking out at the adulation, soaking it in, letting it envelope him... perhaps for one of the final times in the IIWF. Medusa and DDUA have left the ring and now Petrow has risen to his feet... he and Dan Kauffman stand face-to-face one more time, Petrow now with a trickle of blood running down his cheek from a gash on his forehead via the steel chair. Petrow looks out in the crowd... out at the cheering fans who now share their deafening roar for he as well... as he extends his hand to Dan Kauffman! And Kauffman accepts -- shaking Joe Petrow's hand and nodding his head in an obvious sign or respect between men... between wrestlers. The two combatants break... and exit from opposite sides of the ring to the cheers from the crowd. Cut to the announcers' table.] TD: Well, another absolutely breathtaking scene here on IIWF Saturday Night. You have got to leave impressed with both men and wonder if now this is not the Dan Kauffman we have been wating for... the man who is now ready to take on Chris Quigley in two short weeks at Ring Wars 3. SR: And then you have to wonder whether we should even care. TD: What a night it's been, Steve Roberts -- a new Intercontinental Champion, Super Scott turning on the "Loop", all manner of incredible action, and Ring Wars III is now only two weeks away! We're right out of time, folks, but be sure to join us over the next seven days for another week of outstanding IIWF programming. Until then, for "Soundbite" Steve Roberts, this is Tim Dross, saying: so long, everybody! [Cut to an aerial shot of the ring, with a coloured IIWF logo spinning on the canvas. 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+