["Mob Rules" by Black Sabbath cranks up and the black screen shows still shots from the L.A. riots. On cue the music lowers a little and the voice over begins:] VO: You cannot hope to keep order when twenty of the most devastating men in the IIWF collide in what could be the most explosive match of the year! [The various contestants in the over-the-top-rope battle royal fade in and out: Subway Psycho, Marty Warnett, "Sychosys" Joe Petrow, Serge Annis, Chris Quigley, Mr. Damage, "Real Deal" Luke Steele, "Badboy" Randy Acorn, Ronnie Paris, Cheshire, Tiger Claw, Derek Mota, Mad Dog Watkins, "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder, Dirt Dog Unique Allah, Requiem, Nightwing, Deathbringer and Spur. The voice over continues, as the images keep popping in and out of the screen.] VO: In what pits friends and foes alike against each other for the "Go For The Gold" gauntlet challenge, only one man can be triumphant. One man has the right to run the gauntlet against the IIWF's champions. And should he be able to survive the run, he will be awarded with ONE MORE MATCH. All _three_ belts up for grabs, every champion defending. Three champions with everything lose and _one_ man with everything to gain! [The image melts, all the wrestlers pictures turning to liquid and running to the bottom of the screen. After the screen is clear, one man steps up to the camera... Steve "The Fury" Kowalski.] SK: Old dogs, deadmen, injuns, cow pokers, guys that live in gutters an' newcomers -- it don't matter. After I skyrocket nineteen other punks over the top, I'm comin' fer those belts. This is _my_ playground, this is... [The opening graphics explode onto the screen:] ##### ###### ### ########## ########## ########## #### ## ########## ########## ########## #### # #### ######## ##### ##### #### ## ##### #### #### #### #### ### #### #### #### #### ############# ######### #### #### ########### ######### #### #### #### #### #### ######### ######### ### #### #### ######### ######### ### ## #### ######## ######## ## # #### =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ## =-=-=-= INTERNATIONAL INTERNET WRESTLING FEDERATION =============================================== S + A + T + U + R + D + A + Y N + I + G + H + T ----------------------------------------------- + LiVE! + IIWF Coliseum + April 5, 1997 + [The opening graphics fade through to interior shots of the IIWF Coliseum. Fireworks explode high in the rafters as the capacity twenty-thousand strong crowd cheer in their excitement. The shot pans down past row upon row of sign-waving, merchandise-wearing fans, swinging wildly over the sea of faces illuminated by the kaleidoscopic colours cast by the beams of the powerful spotlights in the rigging above the squared circle. The shot eventually pans down past the ringside fans to the ring enclosure and the broadcast table, at which stand Tim Dross, dressed in his customary IIWF suit, and "Soundbite" Steve Roberts, who wears his IIWF leather jacket and a "L'il Soundbiter" t-shirt.] TD: Welcome everybody to the IIWF Coliseum! Welcome everybody to another live and loud edition of IIWF Saturday Night! I'm Tim Dross, and beside me, as always, is my broadcast colleague, "Soundbite" Steve Roberts. SR: As always, the pleasure is all yours, Dross. TD: We're just two weeks removed from what was surely the most incredible night of wrestling action of all time -- Ring Wars III is history, and we're going to be feeling the repercussions of that amazing event for a long time to come. But there's no time to dwell on the past, since we've got the hottest two hours of wrestling entertainment you'll find anywhere in the world coming up for you here tonight. SR: Damned right, Dross. I can't wait for that "Go For The Gold" Battle Royal. TD: Indeed. Fans, we've been talking about this match all week, and you heard about it at the top of the show here tonight. Twenty of the IIWF's premier athletes battling it out in an over-the-top-rope battle royal to determine just who will win the right to run the gauntlet in the coming weeks, starting next week with a non-title match between the winner of the battle royal and the IIWF Cruiserweight Champion, the White Phoenix. SR: Or the Gecko, Dross. Don't forget the Gecko. TD: Well, El Super Gecko is challenging the White Phoenix tonight, and it has to be said that the Phoenix is sure to be still feeling the effects of that incredible ladder match at Ring Wars III which saw him capture the Cruiserweight title from the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi, but I'd be very surprised to see the Gecko take the title here. SR: You can't hurt the lizard, Dross. TD: How true. Two former Cruiserweight champions, the "Enigma" and "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare, will be going up against one another for the right to progress in the ESWP Junior Heavyweight Championship Tournament. The IIWF is involved in this event as part of the ongoing talent exchange agreement that exists between ESWP and the IIWF, and whoever should be victorious tonight will go on to face some great competition from ESWP in the coming weeks. SR: And we've got three championship matches scheduled for tonight's show, Dross. Both the tag team championships will be up for grabs as Team Brutality attempt to tighten their stranglehold on the gold. TD: Absolutely. Night Patrol, the United States Tag Team Champions, will make their first defence of the belts they won at Ring Wars III as they face the Harlequins here tonight, while their stablemates, Pain Inc., challenge once more for the IIWF World Tag Team Championships, currently held by the Syndicate's Dark Disciples. SR: Plus we'll see the Syndicate's lynch pin, Casey "Blackheart" James, end that eight-match winning streak of Creed in World Championship action. TD: Tonight's main event certainly promises to be a phenomenal match, Steve. On the one hand, we have Creed, who has never been pinned here in the IIWF, and on the other, we have Casey James, who, thanks to the strong-arm tactics of the Syndicate, has been an unassailable IIWF Champion since capturing the title from legend Dan Kauffman in February. You can just feel the anticipation in this capacity crowd, Steve Roberts. [Cut to a series of shots, panning around the excited fans, who clamour to get in frame. The shot comes to rest on the familiar faces of the Zodiac Connection, Scorpio and Taurus, along with Gemini, watching the action from the stands.] TD: It seems that even the athletes can't miss a moment of the action here tonight, Steve. SR: Those losers are certainly better off in the crowd than in the ring, Dross. As long as they sit there, they won't get their butts kicked. [Cut back to the announcers' table.] TD: Well, folks, we're just about ready to get up to the ring for tonight's opening encounter. Get set for some tremendous cruiserweight action as Billy Shakespeare mixes it up with the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= ESWP JUNIOR HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT MATCH: =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare vs. "Enigma" Takezo Musashi --------------------------------------------------------- WRITER: DS [Sparkplug Lee steps into the ring and raises his microphone.] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is a first round match in the ESWP Junior Heavyweight Championship Tournament. Introducing first, hailing from Tokyo, Japan, and weighing in at 211lbs, here is... the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi! [Big pop as the lights in the arena drop and the strange, mystical sounds of Musashi's Oriental music drift over the PA system. Deep hues of crimson and blue swirl over the crowd and the aisle as the fans turn their eyes to the entranceway. Musashi steps out into the aisle and raises his arms to the skies, receiving a big pop from the fans. He makes his way down to the ring, climbs up the ringsteps, walks halfway along the apron, leaps straight to the middle of the top rope, and then leaps with a corkscrew somersault into the centre of the ring. Huge pop!] TD: Wow! What an entrance by Musashi. He may have lost the Cruiserweight Championship to the White Phoenix at Ring Wars III, but he still looks to be in great shape. RA: And introducing his opponent: ["Little Willie" by the Sweet kicks in over the PA] hailing from Ashland, Oregon, and weighing in at 230lbs, here is... "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare! [The lights in the arena drop once more, save for a single brilliant white spotlight which illuminates the aisleway just in front of the entrance curtain, and the cameras which flash around the Coliseum. Huge pop as Billy Shakespeare steps out into the harsh glare of the spotlight, and gives his trademark bow.] TD: And here's the man who put Brody Thunder away with his own finisher at Ring Wars III. Shakespeare is the IIWF's only active double champion, and he's always looking for another taste of the gold. SR: I'll quite happily give him a taste of my fist, Dross. TD: You'll stay right where you are, Steve Roberts. [Billy makes his way down to ringside, slapping the hands of fans as he goes, and eventually climbs the ringsteps to walk along the apron. He seems to consider making a spectacular entrance in the same vein as Musashi's, but then simply smiles and steps between the ropes. The lights in the arena rise once more, and the referee signals for the opening bell. Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: Okay, we're underway! You can expect some tremendous high-flying action from both men in this match. Both men want nothing more than to advance in this tournament and be the one to represent the IIWF in the ESWP. [Shakespeare and Musashi circle one another, and then lock up collar and elbow. Musashi quickly slips out and executes a hiptoss takedown on Shakespeare. Pop! Shakespeare is quickly to his feet, and nods in respect at his opponent before locking up again. This time, when Musashi slips out, Shakespeare keeps a firm grip on Musashi's arm, and the "Enigma" is forced to move to the corner and run up the turnbuckles, flipping over backwards to get free. Shakespeare spins around to face Musashi, and finds himself drilled into the buckles by an impressive dropkick from the Enigma, who seems to simply bounce off the mat. Pop! Seeing Shakespeare stunned, the Enigma bounds across the ring to the opposite corner, and then launches himself back towards Billy, attempting a handspring elbow. Shakespeare, however, darts out of the way, and the Enigma's momentum carries him over the turnbuckle. His right arm strikes the steel ring post with some force. Big pop!] TD: Ouch! The Enigma was just a little bit too slow there, and that could cost him early on. [The Enigma staggers back into the ring, and finds himself brought down to the mat by a Northern Lights suplex from Shakespeare, who lets his opponent out of the bridge and goes straight to the right arm, tying it up with a leg scissors. In his pain, the Enigma beats the mat with his free arm, and reaches out for the ropes, which are just inches too far away. The referee checks Musashi, and finds himself used as leverage to pull Musashi towards the ropes. The Enigma grabs the bottom rope, and the official calls for the break. Shakespeare obliges, and both men get to their feet once more, Musashi trying to shake the kink out of his right arm.] TD: Smart move by Musashi there. Aren't you going to say anything, Steve? SR: Nope. This match interests me about as much as re-runs of infomercials. [The two men circle one another again. Shakespeare goes low, and manages to take the Enigma down to the mat by pulling his legs out from under him. Musashi, however, sends Shakespeare flying against the ropes by pushing him away with his legs, and kips up to his feet as Billy bounces back across the ring, nailing him with a back elbow smash, sending him to the canvas! Big pop! Musashi again leaps to his feet, bounds to the middle of the second rope, and launches himself backwards with a twisting body press, catching Shakespeare as he drags himself to his feet. The two men crash to the mat, Musashi falling onto Shakespeare. The referee makes the count - 1 - 2 - kickout!] TD: What fast-paced action we're seeing in this encounter! Musashi seems to be in control once more. SR: I'd still rather hear about revolutionary time-saving kitchen appliances, like those microwave potato chip makers. They're kind of neat. [Musashi drags Shakespeare to his feet, and whips him into the ropes. As Billy bounces back, the Enigma grabs him in a front waistlock, and throws him over his head behind him, hot-shotting Billy's neck across the top rope. Billy rolls on the mat, clutching at his throat, and then rolls out of the ring to the arena floor to try and collect himself. Musashi steps out onto the ring apron, and stomps on Billy's back, dropping Shakespeare to the floor, and then sizes him up before launching himself at Billy with a legdrop off the apron! Big pop!] TD: We're seeing a very intense Musashi in this match! He's not giving Shakespeare a chance to get his breath back even for a moment. SR: Or those paint brushes with different shaped tips to let you paint corners easily. TD: Steve, there's a match going on here. SR: No kidding, Dross. [Musashi drags Shakespeare to his feet and hooks his arms over the steel crowd barriers, his head slumped backwards. While the back of Billy's neck is on the steel railing, Musashi grabs him by the hair, pressing him down, and then brutally savate kicks him in the throat. Huge heel pop! Billy slumps to the floor, again clutching at his throat.] TD: Oh my! Did you see that?! Musashi could have collapsed Billy's windpipe right there! SR: Damn, did I miss something? TD: We saw brutal tactics like this from Musashi in that Ladder Match against the White Phoenix at Ring Wars III, but it comes as a real surprise to see the Enigma take it to Shakespeare like this here tonight -- hang on... the Enigma's got a chair! [Musashi grabs a chair from the timekeeper's table, and as Billy tries to get back to his feet, the Enigma labels him square across the back with the cold hard steel. The referee jumps from the ring and grabs the chair away from the Enigma, warning him. Musashi shouts back at the official in Japanese, and then drags Shakespeare to his feet once more. Amidst the jeers of the crowd, Musashi rolls Billy back into the ring under the bottom rope, and then climbs to the apron himself. Musashi turns his back on the ring and looks out into the crowd, shouting something which the microphones don't pick up to the ringside fans. They jeer back at him, and while this exchange is going on, Shakespeare pulls himself to his feet in the ring, slingshots himself against the ropes, and hits Musashi in the back with a dropkick which sends the Enigma flying off the apron and careening into the steel crowd barriers. Huge pop!] TD: What a move from Shakespeare! He's certainly bought himself some valuable time here. Musashi could be counted out. SR: What about those knives that are really flexible and never need sharpening? You get a free tomato cutter with those. [Shakespeare lies on the canvas, his chest heaving, trying to recover some strength. Musashi, meanwhile, struggles to clear his head after hitting it hard against the steel crowd barriers. The referee lays the count on the Enigma, and he reaches seven before Musashi is able to pull himself to his feet using the ring apron. Musashi finally rolls back into the ring on the count of nine. Both men drag themselves to their feet, and Shakespeare lashes out at his opponent with a volley of hard rights and lefts, staggering the Enigma. Billy attempts a crescent kick on his opponent, but Musashi, his reflexes still sharp, catches Billy's foot, and Shakespeare leaps, hitting the Enigma with a vicious enzuigiri flush in the side of the head, poleaxing Musashi and sending him crashing to the canvas. Big pop!] TD: Perhaps Shakespeare can regain some momentum here now. He seems to be slowing the Enigma down at last. SR: Then there's that unscratchable paint for cars. Becky could probably do with a tin of the stuff for her Porsche. [Shakespeare makes the cover - 1 - 2 - Musashi kicks out. Billy drags his opponent to his feet and whips him into the ropes. The Enigma ducks under a clothesline, but falls prey to a flying fist on the rebound. Musashi rolls out of the ring under the bottom rope, and Shakespeare sizes up his opponent, running to the corner, leaping to the top turnbuckle, and then launching himself with a front moonsault all the way to the floor, hitting the Enigma hard. Huge pop! Cameras flash all over the arena!] TD: What a move from Shakespeare! These two men are taking all kinds of risks here tonight! SR: And of course you can buy that "hair in a can" stuff, Dross. [Musashi is dragged to his feet by Shakespeare, who stuns him with a volley of reverse knife edge chops, each blow sending a resounding crack around the arena. Shakespeare props Musashi up against the steel ring steps, and then takes a run at the Enigma, hitting him with a spinning kick which catches his opponent under the jaw and sends him snapping back against the steel steps. Big pop! Shakespeare rolls back into the ring to break the count, and then goes straight back to the outside to drag Musashi back to his feet. Billy scoops up Musashi and slams him to the floor, before climbing the ring steps and leaping off, dropping an elbow across Musashi's chest and neck. Mixed pop!] TD: It seems Shakespeare is giving the Enigma a dose of his own medicine here, Steve. Both men are bending the rules, to say the least. SR: Ah, "Amazing Discoveries". What a show. [Billy drags the Enigma to his feet once more and rolls him back into the ring under the bottom rope. He points to the top turnbuckle and signals for the Curtain Call. Big pop!] TD: This is it! Shakespeare's setting Musashi up for the Curtain Call! If Shakespeare hits this, it's all over. [Shakespeare steps out onto the apron and climbs to the top turnbuckle, facing out into the crowd. Cameras flash as Billy steadies himself and then launches himself backwards with his reverse backflip cross body block -- which misses! Musashi rolls out of the way, and Shakespeare hits nothing but mat! Huge mixed pop!] TD: Shakespeare missed! The Enigma moved out of the way, and in the blink of an eye, the momentum of this match has completely turned around! [Musashi somehow musters the strength to kip up to his feet, and the crowd pop like crazy as he climbs to the top turnbuckle himself. Shakespeare is motionless on the mat as the Enigma raises his arms to the skies -- and launches himself with his Starsault Press! The Enigma arcs through the air, tucking his form in tight for maximum rotation, then opening up as he approaches the mat, hurtling towards Shakespeare... who rolls out of the way! Musashi hits the mat at incredible velocity! Huge mixed pop from the crowd!] TD: Unbelievable! Both men have missed their patented finishing manoeuvres! What's it going to take to put one of these men down to the mat for the three count? SR: How about a bullet? TD: Steve, please! SR: I was only asking. [Shakespeare drags himself to his feet and rolls over to cover Musashi - 1 - 2 -- kickout by the narrowest of margins! Billy, clearly exhausted, drags Musashi to his feet, and whips him into the ropes. As he bounces back, he grabs the Enigma in a waistlock, and attempts to execute a spinebuster on the Japanese athlete. However, Musashi somehow levers himself so that he is able to wrap his legs around Shakespeare's head, and reach backwards with his hands so that he can use them to push off the mat. Musashi flips Shakespeare over forwards with his legs as he pushes himself off the mat, and flips over himself so that he comes down with his knees on Billy's shoulders. Reaching back, Musashi grabs Shakespeare's legs with his arms, and hooks them as tightly as possible. The referee drops to the mat and counts Billy's shoulders to the mat - 1 - 2 - Billy wriggles but is unable to free himself - 3! Ding! Ding! Ding! Huge pop!] TD: Wow! What on earth kind of a move was that?! SR: Who cares, Dross?! This match is finally over -- and best of all, Pukespeare's come out with the loser's share of the purse money! [The referee raises the Enigma's arm in victory as cameras continue to flash around the Coliseum.] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, as the result of a pinfall: the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi! [The "Enigma" helps Shakespeare to his feet and bows to him before leaving the ring and heading up the aisle. Billy holds his head and kicks the bottom rope in frustration at the sudden ending to the match.] TD: Billy doesn't know quite what hit him, and nor do I, Steve Roberts. Shakespeare seemed to have Musashi at his mercy, setting him up for that spinebuster, but the Enigma somehow flipped Billy over with that modified hurricarana into a well-executed cradle -- and from there, there's no escape. SR: Look at little Willie kick the ropes... aw, what a shame, I don't think. TD: Well, Musashi advances in the tournament to face an ESWP athlete in the next couple of weeks. Perhaps he'll have another gold belt to add to his trophy cabinet at the end of the tournament. [Shakespeare leaves the ring, and makes his way slowly up the aisle, absently slapping the hands of fans as he goes. Cut back to the announcers' table.] TD: I understand Larry Morton is standing by in the locker room area, hoping to get a word with IIWF World Heavyweight Champion Casey James. Larry? [Cut to Larry Morton standing in a hallway. A door with "SYNDICATE" stenciled on it is to his right.] LM: Thanks, Tim. Casey James will face perhaps the biggest challenge to his championship belt later on tonight when he takes on the hottest wrestler in the IIWF right now. I'm speaking, of course, about the sensational rookie Creed, who has... hey, what are you...? [Morton is interrupted as Nightwing grabs Morton's shoulder from behind. His eyes blazing behind the warpaint on his face, Nightwing pulls the microphone from Morton's grasp and yells at the camera.] NW: Two weeks ago, my people turned their backs on me! They chose the White Man's way over the way of the Cherokee! How does it feel to have your past pulled from your chest?! [he lowers his voice and speaks almost matter-of-factly] Look now, forgotten ones, at the face of the last Cherokee. Look at the glory you shall never know. With me shall die the old way... the only way to the future. [Morton pulls the microphone back from Nightwing.] LM: Please! I'm waiting for an interview with.... [The Native American cuts Larry short, pushing him aside and attempting to enter the Syndicate's locker room. The door is locked, but Nightwing steps back and kicks at the lock, sending the door swinging into the locker room. The camera moves behind Nightwing, showing Brian Lau and Don McQueen talking to Casey James, Brody Thunder, Tiger Claw, and the Dark Disciples -- all of whom are seated in a semicircle. All of the wrestlers jump to their feet as Nightwing storms into the locker room. The microphone picks up only one line as Nightwing walks directly toward Casey James.] NW: The old way dies tonight! [Nightwing shoves Casey, then drops his arms to his side. The World Heavyweight Champion wastes no time attacking Nightwing, pounding him with blows to the head. Thunder and Tiger Claw whip Nightwing into a row of lockers, sending a sickening metal clang throughout the room. McQueen directs the Dark Disciples to attack the young Indian and they react with vicious enthusiasm, Kane kicking Nightwing in the ribs and Wulf tearing at his flesh. The entire Syndicate descend on Nightwing as Brian Lau pushes the door closed.] LM: Somebody get some help down here! I don't know if that kid is suicidal, but that was stupid! Get some help! [The door, which did not close because of the broken latch, swings open once again. Wulf looks momentarily toward the camera, his face smeared with blood. Thunder pulls Nightwing to his feet, military presses him, then hurls him through one of the benches in front of the now-dented metal lockers. Lau and McQueen continue to direct their men, with each member taking turns attacking Nightwing. Kane and Thunder pull their victim to his feet and hold him as Tiger Claw delivers a hard spinning heel kick. Claw and Wulf then pull him back to his feet and hold him as James nails one... then a second Blackheart Punch.] LM: This is... this is just.... [Morton is interrupted by the arrival of the Jobber Justice Squad. Lau, satisfied that the damage has been done, calls his men over to one of the lockers as the JJS surrounds Nightwing, who lays crumpled on the floor in a corner of the room. The camera swings back toward Larry Morton.] LM: Tim, I don't know what to say about what we've just seen. Nightwing, saying something about the past and the future dying with him, just took on the entire Syndicate by himself. I don't know what to say. We have a mess down here, so let's cut back to you and Steve Roberts. [Cut back to the announcers' table.] TD: Nightwing really appears to have gone off the rails since his people abandoned him two weeks ago at Ring Wars III. Is he going to be in any shape to compete in the "Go For The Gold" batle royal later on here tonight? SR: Who cares, Dross? The kid got just what he deserved. You mess with the Syndicate at your peril. TD: Well, we'll try and get an update on Nightwing's condition later on. Right now, it's time for the first of tonight's championship matches as the White Phoenix makes the first defence of his Cruiserweight title, facing El Super Gecko. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- IIWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= The White Phoenix [c] vs. El Super Gecko ---------------------------------------- WRITER: DK [Sparkplug Lee steps into the ring once more.] RA: The following contest, set for one fall, is for the IIWF Cruiserweight Championship! [Pop!] Introducing first, standing six feet tall and weighing 220 pounds, also known as the "Lizard", this is El Super Gecko! [The "We Love Gecko!" section in the stands erupts in much the same way as the Sychopaths whenever Petrow shows, and the rest of the crowd buzzes as the lizard-like Gecko appears at the head of the aisle under a haze of green light. Gecko does a lizard call, then continues walking to the ring.] TD: Strange guy, this Gecko. Although his win-loss record isn't sparkling, he seems to know how to hurt people... if you will recall, this man put two IIWF superstars out in two successive weeks back a while ago. SR: El Super Gecko is one of the most lethal lizards in the history of our sport, not to mention one of the only lizards in the history of our sport. I think Gecko could have his time here... Chow made a bad mistake ditching Sun-Tsi, and that's all the lizard needs. TD: You can't be serious. Gecko, the Cruiserweight Champion? No, I refuse to even think like that. SR: Come on, Dross, we all know that for you, thinking is out of reach anyways. [A gong sounds, then an eagle's cry is heard as on the video wall, the scene of a roaring blaze over a lake sends the crowd into an uproar...] RA: And his opponent, from San Francisco, weighing in at 220 pounds, he is the current IIWF Cruiserweight Champion, and he is known as the "White Phoenix"... Shinja Chow! [...and the crowd erupts as the White Phoenix appears at the head of the aisle. Immediately, one thing sticks out... the fact that the Cruiserweight Championship around Chow's waist is on fire!] TD: Oh my word, the belt is ablaze! SR: Can that belt stand all that heat? What is it with vandalising championship belts around here?! [Chow continues to the ring as the crowd gasps at the sight of the belt afire around his waist. Chow also wears red leg-length tights, and a black glove over his right hand to conceal the old "Phoenix" mark put there by Sun-Tsi. As Chow enters the ring, Gecko slithers out of the ring, and the lights go out as Chow unbuckles the Cruiser-weight belt and holds it up, still in flames, in the center of the ring! The effect is astonishing, and several "oohs!" and "ahhs!" are heard before the lights come back up. Chow then puts the fire out and slides the belt to the referee, who takes caution in taking it over to the announce booth...] TD: As astonishing an entrance as that was, you have to wonder just what is going to happen in this match. The Cruiserweight division is rather unsettled right now, and Chow is looking around as if for someone to show up... SR: You're right, Dross... Chow looks preoccupied, all the more reason why the lizard will be the new Cruiserweight Champion. TD: I still can't picture it happening... [As the Phoenix finally settles in a little bit, Gecko slides back into the ring and takes a praying mantis fighting stance...] TD: Uh-oh, the lizard is up to his tricks... [Gecko makes several rather bad-looking kata moves before Chow moves in and quickly takes a leg out! Pop! Gecko slides to the ropes, pounces up, and goes back to the stance. Chow shakes his head, still warily looking around, and gecko sneaks a body kick in! Chow is caught, and an elbow thrust to the back of the head staggers the champion! Two knifeedge chops backs Chow to the ropes, then Gecko whips Chow to the other side. Chow returns with a beautiful spinning back kick that floors Gecko! The lizard hops back up, and gets Japanese arm dragged back down! Once more, gecko comes up, and is met by a quick and astonishing Asai Moonsault from Chow off the ropes! 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! Gecko rolls outside...] TD: Whatever the hell that fighting style was of Gecko's, it didn't work for long, and the high-flying tactics of Chow have really helped him. SR: Come on, Gecko, let's put the flame out of the Phoenix! TD: I can't believe you can think Gecko is Cruiserweight Championship material... Oh, what a move! [As Gecko collected himself on the outside, Chow flew out with a Space Flying Tiger Drop onto the lizard! HUGE crowd pop! Gecko is seemingly out cold after the backflip moonsault, and Chow rolls him back into the ring! As Gecko rolls to a rest in center ring, Chow climbs to the top! For some reason, he hesitates and looks around again, then shaking his head, comes off with a splash... and takes a Gecko boot in the jaw! The Phoenix is dazed, and collapses to the canvas as Gecko rolls up!] TD: This is strange. What could the White Phoenix be distracted about? SR: His car insurance probably doubled... TD: I don't think that's it. [Gecko brings Chow up and executes a sloppy DDT, but it manages to take Chow down! gecko yells to his fan group "Time for the lizard's revenge... hisssssssssss!", then he climbs up top as well. However, to the dismay of the lizard supporters, Chow hops up and meets Gecko at the top. Chow locks up, then sends Gecko crashing down with a double-underhook superplex! HUGE pop! Chow then drags the Gecko to his feet and whips him across the ring. The lizard hits the opposite turnbuckles with force. The Phoenix moves to the other side of the ring and readies himself...] TD: I think it's time for the Phoenix Strike! SR: Like, yay. Come on, Gecko! [Chow signals for the move, then launches himself across the ring with his mid-air flip, connecting with a devastating jump spinning back kick! The Gecko slumps to the mat as the Phoenix makes the cover: 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding! Immediately, down comes Steve Kowalski to ringside as the ref raises Chow's hand in victory...] RA: Here is your winner, and STILL IIWF Cruiserweight Champion, the White Phoenix... Shinja Chow! TD: Oh great, what does Kowalski want? SR: Hey remember, Kowalski shocked everyone by showing that lame duck Spreadbury that he was indeed eligible for the Cruiserweight Championship! I have a feeling this could be good... TD: There's no way that scale was legit, and there's no way that Kowalski is 239 and one half pounds either! SR: So? Here we go... [Kowalski has a mic, and looks straight at the now-focused Chow...] SK: Hey, _champ_! I suppose you realise that there's a new little boy in town, and yer lookin at him! [Heel pop!] Well son, you should just hand over that Cruiserweight belt to a _real_ man, and get it over with. You know what they say, it's much better to admit you're a loser than to be _proven_ to be one! So just hand over that there strap, and nothing bad will happen! [Kowalski motions for the belt, and Chow responds by strapping it around his own waist and shaking his head "no"! Kowalski is furious, and enters the ring!] SK: Phoenix, that was a really bad idea... [Kowalski then attempts to slug Chow, who is one step too quick and takes out the legs of Kowalski! The two then start to brawl across the ring!] TD: Here we go! Chow was too quick for Kowalski! And we've got a brawl on our hands! SR: All right! Action at last! [Kowalski backs Chow into a corner and starts pounding away, then Chow reverses the tide and he starts pounding away! Security finally gets into the ring and pulls the two apart, Kowalski saying things to Chow while the Phoenix motions him on...] TD: It's pretty clear, Steve, that Kowalski has a big plan here. Whether he's a cruiserweight by legit means is one thing, but Kowalski went straight for Chow tonight, and you have to wonder where this may lead. SR: It's going to lead straight to the end for the Phoenix's Cruiserweight Championship run! Kowalski will tear the runt apart! [Kowalski is dragged back to the locker room area while the Phoenix climbs the turnbuckles and raises the Cruiserweight belt to the cheers of the crowd. Cut back to the announcers' table.] TD: In a few moments, we'll see the first of tonight's tag team championship matches. It's a big night for Team Brutality, and I understand that Larry Morton is backstage with the managers of Pain Inc. and Night Patrol, Mr. Mic and Asst. DA Brenda Hawkings. Larry? [Cut to Larry Morton standing backstage. Behind him, Pain Inc. are in conference with Night Patrol, each partnership giving the other some last-minute tactical tips. Mr. Mic and Brenda Hawkings are discussing strategy as they enter the frame.] LM: Mr. Mic, your thoughts on tonight's big matches? MM: Shut up and [he grabs the mic] gimme that damn thing! McQueen, you piece of trash, I'm coming out tonight to make sure you leave without those belts -- which you wouldn't have in the first place if it weren't for Pain Inc. While Night Patrol keeps Crip and Whimp in check, I'll be watching as Brenda Hawkings gives you a managing lesson. Tell 'em, Ms. Hawkings. BH: Mr. McQueen, the court finds your lack of managerial ability unacceptable. The court finds you guilty of not being able to manage anything. Your sentence is a lesson by myself on how to manage. MM: McQueen, you should be happy. Most people would kill for information like this. You get it for free. As for your boys, they have walked the high road for too long. That road ends tonight in a free fall into hell, where the masters of hell themselves, Pain Inc., are waiting. You got away once... NO MORE. Remember, you've never beaten Pain Inc., but we've beaten you. We know how to beat ya, and that's exactly what we plan to do. [Mr. Mic thrusts the microphone back into Larry's chest, and the two huge Indonesians, Morningstar and Hellraiser, square up to the reporter. Larry looks up at them, wide-eyed, and then turns tail, heading out of the shot. Cut back to ringside.] TD: Well, Team Brutality certainly seem ready for tonight's big matches. In just a few moments... hang on... what's this? ["We are the Champions", by Queen begins to play as the crowd gives a mixed reaction. Suddenly, Ronnie Paris walks out from behind the curtain, to a mixed reaction with slightly more cheers than jeers.] SR: Oh, please. What's widdle Wonnie Pawis doing out here? TD: I understand that Paris asked for a couple of minutes of air time tonight to speak his mind on a few things that are bothering him. Let's hear what he has to say. [Paris walks to the ring quickly, not acknowledging any of the fans. He rolls under the bottom rope, and asks for a mic from one of the ringside technicians, which he recieves.] RP: I have a few things to say, and a few issues to clear up. First of all, I want to address Tony Starks, who was a partner of mine at Ring Wars III. [Slight face pop for the mention of RW.] There are some who say that I cost him the match, that it was my fault "Team Paris" lost... and those people are right. I shouldn't have stayed at ringside, and I shouldn't have let that piece of trash Steele get under my skin. Therefore, I'd like to say publicly to Tony Starks, I'm sorry. I screwed up, and I apologize. I hold a lot of respect for you, and hopefully you can respect me too. [The crowd is warming to Paris, as he's getting some respectable pops for his apologies.] As long as I'm apologising, I owe another man one. Steve Summer, I was downright rude to you in El Paso, and I took out my frustrations on you. You're a good guy, and you have a bright future in this industry... I'd be proud to have you in my gym any time. Well, maybe not Wednesday nights, because I'm usually not there! [The joke bombs, but Paris doesn't really mind.] SR: [over the headset] What a comedian. RP: Now, I have one final apology, and that's to you fans. You're the only reason I or anyone else in the dressing room is here, and you literally pay my salary. Well, some Spreadbury guy signs the check, but it's mostly your cash! [This one goes over better. Paris is definitely on the crowd's good side at the moment.] But there are still a few people I don't like, and one of those people is the "Real Deal." He showed his true colours back in Toronto, and he just keeps obsessing with ways to ruin my career. He's cost me more matches than... well, I can't think of anything witty to say here, but you get the idea. I've been losing, and letting him get under my skin, and it's kept me really focused and serious. But I'm not having a lot of fun... and that's about to change. Luke, the reason you bothered me was because I took every match, every move so seriously. Well, I feel like opening up, and playing a game... my game. I feel like making you play my game if you want to face me. The terms are simple... you can have a match with me, next week, on this fine program. On one condition. You play by my rules. We'll have a towel match, or we won't fight at all. Why? Because I said so, that's why. [The crowd cheers.] Now, I need someone to hold my towel, so to speak, and that person is the same person who helped me find fun in this sport. May I introduce the love of my life, the beautiful Maggie Collins! [A young lady appears from behind the curtains, about 25 years old. She's 5'4", with shoulder length red hair and a small smattering of freckles on her nose. She's thin, and quite pretty, although not quite as glamorous as most of the women IIWF fans get to see. She's wearing a plain white blouse with blue jeans and looks a bit nervous to be in front of a large crowd. Eventually she makes it to the ring, where Ronnie holds the ropes open for her.] RP: This is the most beautiful woman in the world, my fiancee Maggie! [She blushes, turning bright red as Paris puts and arm around her.] SR: [over the headset] Most beautiful woman in the world?! Get real, Paris! I think I'm going to be sick! TD: [over the headset] Please, Steve! RP: This is the woman who will stay in my corner and give me a reason to fight. Sorry that I hadn't introduced her before, but I wasn't quite thinking the same way then... [Paris gently kisses Maggie on her forehead, and holds her closer.] This is the woman who will hold my towel next week, and the woman who will be with me forever. I doubt the "Real Deal" can find that kind of moral support... Everyone seems to be changing their attitude in the IIWF lately, so I just decided to acknowledge the real me. Luke Steele, you don't want to tangle with the real me... I'm still just a wrestler, but I'm a man too. MC: Luke Steele, you'll never be the man that Ronnie is. IIWF, prepare to deal with the new Ronnie Paris. [With that, Paris and Collins walk back down the aisle with the support of the fans, arm in arm. Cut back to the announcers' table.] SR: The new Ronnie Paris?! Please, Dross, make the little man stop before my sides split and I spill my intestines all over the arena floor. TD: Don't be so dismissive, Steve. Well, folks, we must get straight back to the action now, as Night Patrol defend their United States Tag Team titles against the Harlequins. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= IIWF UNITED STATES TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Night Patrol [c] vs. The Harlequins ----------------------------------------------- WRITER: RD [The spotlight falls on centre ring where Sparkplug Lee is rummaging around in his pocket rather vigorously. He suddenly realises that all eyes are focused on him and he jumps to attention.] SR: I hear ol' Sparkplug is a bit of a hit with the ladies these days. TD: Is that right? SR: Yeah, Lee got himself a new girlfriend. TD: Really? What's her name? SR: Inflatable Annie, he got her for Christmas. TD: Will you be serious! RA: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, with the US Tag Team Championships on the line! Introducing first, hailing from Sleepy Hollow, Illinois; weighing in at a combined 545lbs, here are the challengers... Chaos and Tragedy, the Harlequins! [There is a pretty substantial crowd pop as "My Lover's Box" by Garbage plays over the loudspeakers and the Harlequins appear at the head of the aisle. They make their way down to ringside, followed closely by Comedy and Melody. Several Harlequin fans at ringside squirt the bizarre ones with water pistols. Comedy responds by bonking them over the head with the Happy Hammer, which is fortunately set in safe mode.] SR: That sort of cameraderie with the fans makes me sick! TD: Without the fans you wouldn't have a job, Steve. SR: Yeah, that's right! I'm fleecing all you suckers out there for yer money! TD: Arguing with you is futile. RA: And their opponents, the first US tag team champions in IIWF history! Hailing from Houston, Texas and weighing in at a combined 530 lbs; here are Lt. David Keene and Sgt. Jack Blazer... Night Patrol! [The Coliseum resounds with jeers as Keene and Blazer walk down the aisle, followed by Brenda Hawkings and Pain Inc. The two ex-cops display their championship belts proudly and yell at the crowd to behave like orderly citizens. Night Patrol climb through the ropes and put the hard stare on the Harlequins across from the ring. There is quite an entourage at ringside, with Melody, Comedy, Mr. Mic, Hades, Hellraiser and Morningstar all arrayed around the arena floor.] TD: You've got a recipe for disaster right there. The referee is going to need eyes in the back of his head to keep track of everybody in and out of the ring. SR: Great! Highly illegal tactics can be employed without any chance of getting noticed by the official! [Ding! Ding! Ding! Keene and Tragedy bail from the ring, leaving the two powerhouses to square off. Blazer immediately charges Chaos and rams him in the midsection with his shoulder. Chaos doubles-up and Blazer pummels him with axehandles to the back. Blazer grabs Chaos and whips him hard into the neutral corner. Blazer lunges in fast with another shoulder charge but Chaos shifts out of the way and this time Blazer strikes the buckles with resounding force! Blazer drops to the canvas clutching his shoulder and Chaos makes the tag to Tragedy. Blazer gets to his feet only to be hit by a dropkick from the Harlequin. Once again he gets up and lunges at the Harlequin, but Tragedy is too quick and hiptosses him down to the mat. For a third time Blazer gets up, but Tragedy hits him with a flying kneelift! Blazer staggers backwards and topples over the top rope. Crowd pop!] TD: Speed triumphs over power thus far in the match. Tragedy really has Blazer befuddled. SR: Hah! All Blazer has to do is land one good punch and it's all over for that little freak. [The camera shows Melody craftily emptying a bag full of marbles on the arena floor. Blazer gets up on the outside and slaps the mat in frustration. He paces around the ring, only to step unwarily amidst the slippery marbles. He loses his footing, wobbles and then slips straight off his feet! As he comes down, Blazer's head strikes the steel crowd barrier and he rolls around on the floor, with both his back and head taking damage from the fall. The ringside fans laugh at his predicament! Suddenly Mr. Mic jumps up on the apron and starts flipping the bird at the referee! The ref disrupts the count and goes over to Mr. Mic, yelling at him to get off the apron. Taking advantage of the distraction, Hades helps Blazer to his feet and rolls him back into the ring. Morningstar and Hellraiser go over to the Harlequins corner and grab Chaos from behind, slamming him down to the arena floor! Heel pop! Tragedy, noticing his partner's predicament, comes flying over the top rope with a plancha dive, hitting both members of Pain Inc. and knocking them prone!] TD: It's chaos outside the ring! What heinous tactics from Team Brutality! SR: Hey! Hey! Where's your objectivity, Dross? The Harlequins started all this by pulling that marble stunt! [Mr. Mic drops off the apron and the ref turns back to the ring. Blazer crawls across and tags in Keene as Harlequin Tragedy climbs up onto the turnbuckle from the outside. Tragedy comes flying off at Keene with a flying elbow, but the copper ducks and rolls out of the way. Tragedy crashes into the mat with shuddering impact! Shocked gasp from the crowd! Keene is straight back up and immediately goes to work, stomping on the Harlequin brutally. Keene lands a fistdrop, then an elbowdrop. Keene goes for the pin. 1 - 2 - kickout by Tragedy! Keene drags the Harlequin to his feet and whips him to the ropes. Tragedy comes bounding back off and from out of nowhere pulls off a frankensteiner! Loud cheers from the crowd! Tragedy staggers over and makes the tag to Chaos.] SR: What? How the hell did Tragedy pull that off! TD: It just goes to show what resilient athletes the Harlequins are, Steve. [Chaos storms the ring and unloads on Keene with kicks and punches. He sets up the cop and... bang! Devestating snap suplex! Chaos goes for the cover - 1 - 2 - kickout by Keene! Chaos drops a knee on Keene's midsection and...] SR: Look at that big idiot! He's getting up on the top turnbuckle, that's ridiculous for a wrestler his size! [...Chaos poises himself on the top turnbuckle as Keene rises shakily to his feet in centre ring. Chaos comes flying off and amazingly hits Keene accurately with a thunderous clothesline! Both men are propelled onwards by the impact and unfortunately for the referee, he is right in the way. Both wrestlers crash to the mat and the official is sandwiched between them and the canvas. Chaos gets up and rolls Keene off the referee. He goes for the pin, but nobody is there to register it. The referee is completely comatose. Chaos gets up and looks unsure what to do. Blazer immediately comes bulling through the ropes and floors the Harlequin with a clothesline. Tragedy rushes into the ring and begins trading shots with the big ex-policeman. Melody and Comedy step between the ropes and try to revive the referee by squirting him with a trick flower.] TD: Oh no! The referee is showing absolutley no signs of conciousness whatsoever, folks. We need another official down here immediately. Hang on... what's going on here...? It can't be! SR: Yes! Yes! It can be! It can be! [The crowd begins to give deafening jeers as Kane and Wulf of the Dark Disciples make their way down the aisle, their charred and mangled tag team straps hanging over their shoulders. Suddenly the heel pop grows even louder as Derek and Shadoe of the Prophets of Rage appear at the head of the aisle. The Prophets close in behind the Dark Disciples and tap them on the shoulders. Kane and Wulf turn around, annoyed at the distraction. A nearby sound mic picks up the exchange.] DEREK: What the hell are you freaks doing here? KANE: We've got some business to take care of, weak fool, get out of our way! SHADOE: We're the ones with business to take care of; this is our match to interfere in! Get the hell backstage! WULF: Nobody talks to the Dark Disciples that way and lives to tell the tale! SR: Go on! Hit 'im one then! TD: Oh my goodness, this is completely out of control! [As one, the four bonebreakers lunge at each other. Derek clobbers Wulf with an axehandle, who responds with an eye gouge. Kane and Shadoe exchange roundhouse blows, with the smaller Prophet getting the worst of it. Pain Inc. and Hades notice the commotion and begin to head up the aisle, intent on doing some damage on the Dark Disciples before their title challenge later in the evening. In the ring a wild four way brawl has broken out between the Harlequins and Night Patrol. At ringside Brenda Hawkings and Mr. Mic are involved in a shouting match with Melody and Comedy.] SR: What a fight! There's always fun and games when the Dark Disciples come out to play! TD: This is disgusting, get security out here right now! [The Disciples and the Prophets continue to brawl with neither gaining a definate advantage. That is until Pain Inc. hit the devil worshippers from behind. Hellraiser, Morningstar, Hades, Derek and Shadoe Rage immediately team up in going to work on Kane and Wulf, pummeling them with kicks and punches, smashing them into the crowd barriers and generally trashing them. Suddenly Tiger Claw and Brody Thunder rush out from backstage wielding baseball bats! The crowd makes a tremendous noise of both cheering and jeering! Brody winds up and then cracks Derek across the head with his baseball bat! The giant goes down cold. Claw swings his bat at Morningstar and floors the big man, following up with a spinning heel kick that sends Shadoe crashing over the crowd barriers! Kane and Wulf football tackle Hellraiser to the ground, pummelling him furiously. Hades, suddenly faced with the prospect of fighting four crazed thugs by himself, turns tail and leaps over the crowd barrier, fleeing through the crowd! The Syndicate members exchange handclasps and then head relentlessly down to the ring.] TD: What... where... what the hell is going on here!? The Harlequins are brawling with Night Patrol in the ring, Tiger Claw and Brody Thunder came out from nowhere wielding baseball bats! This carnage must be stopped! SR: All the rules have gone out the window Timmy boy! It's moments like these that make wrestling the greatest sport in the world! TD: Sport? Sport? This is no sport, this is legalised mayhem! [The Syndicate members hit the ring. Kane and Wulf unclasp their belts and vault the ropes, clocking Keene and Blazer from behind with the tag team titles. Thunder and Claw climb through the ropes swinging their bats, causing the Harlequins to scurry out of the ring. The crowd jeers loudly as Don McQueen makes his way down to ringside! The Syndicate really goes to work on Keene and Blazer, stomping and kicking their ribs and heads. Don McQueen approaches Brenda Hawkings outside the ring. The Syndicate pairs off and spike powerbomb both members of Night Patrol with tremendous velocity! Don McQueen goes to slap Brenda Hawkings, but she utilises her police training and locks him in an arrest hold!] SR: Don McQueen is getting beaten up by a woman! Say it 'aint so, Don! [The Dark Disciples notice their manager's predicament and climb outside of the ring. Tiger Claw and Brody Thunder continue to brutalise Night Patrol. Back at the top of the aisle, Pain Inc. and the Prophets of Rage are stirring. Kane and Wulf tear Brenda's grip from their manager, and then Wulf hauls the female officer kicking and screaming over his shoulder! The Dark Disciples start to head up the aisle with their kidknapped prize. Don McQueen, flanked by Tiger Claw and Casey James scoops up the US tag belts and follows. Harlequin Tragedy pulls the unconcious Blazer from the ring, while Harlequin Chaos covers the comatose Keene. Melody is slapping the referee, frantically trying to revive him! The ref stirs, and crawls over to make the count! The crowd roars with a mixed pop!] SR: No! No! It can't end this way! TD: This is dreadful! [The referee attempts to shake the cobwebs from his head; the count registers at a ridiculously slow pace - 1 - Shadoe and Hellraiser have recovered sufficiently to ambush the Syndicate on their way backstage - 2 - Tiger Claw and Brody Thunder hold off Shadoe and Hellraiser, allowing McQueen and the Disciples to continue backstage with the kidnapped Hawkings! - 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] RA: Here are your winners, and _NEW_ United States Tag Team Champions, the Harlequins! [The Harlequins are jubilant as they raise their fists in victory. However, there are no tag team belts to strap round their waists. Derek has revived himself sufficiently, and he joins his brother in breaking off from the brawl to head down to the ring. Tiger Claw and Brody Thunder are still locked in a brawl with Morningstar and Hellraiser. The Prophets of Rage climb through the ropes and immediately clothesline the Harlequins from the ring! Then they turn to the still prone Night Patrol and begin stomping away on them!] TD: Oh my goodness! This is utter mayhem! The security team must be snoring on the job! SR: I don't know who to cheer for, everybody is being so brutal I can't choose a favourite! [The Harlequins climb back into the ring and clobber the Prophets of Rage from behind, prompting another four-way slobberknocker. Finally, two separate security teams descend on the arena. One team, consisting of the Jobber Justice Squad, hits the ring and separates the Harlequins from the Prophets of Rage. The other team, consisting of Doug Griffing and his cronies concentrates on seperating Pain Inc. from Tiger Claw and Brody Thunder. The different factions are shepherded out of the arena, hurling insults at one another. A team of medics arrives and help Keene and Blazer to their feet, who are then guided away from ringside, shaken but not as seriously injured as expected.] TD: Finally! An end is put to the carnage. But what about Brenda Hawkings? She was forgotten during all the mayhem and now she's in the clutches of the Dark Disciples! What those two lunatics might do to her doesn't bear thinking about! SR: And the US titles were stolen by Don McQueen! How much bad blood was started in the tag team ranks during this match? I have a feeling this is only the tip of the iceburg, Timmy boy! We're gonna' see some real hardcore action between the IIWF's tag teams in the coming weeks! TD: The Harlequins are the new champions folks! A tremendous upset there, with Night Patrol losing in their first title defence. Not that it was at all their fault of course. SR: That's right! Spreadbury, return those belts to Night Patrol immediately! TD: Up next we're going to see Tony Starks make his return to the IIWF Coliseum after his recent return to active duty after months of convalescence. He's going to be facing Otto "the Butcher" Verhoeven in just a few moments, and Larry Morton is backstage trying to get a few words from the Staten Island sensation: [Cut to Larry Morton standing outside the door to Tony Starks' locker room.] LM: Thanks, Tim. I'm here trying to get some comments from Tony Starks before his big Saturday Night return versus Otto Verhoeven. [Starks walks out of his dressing room, in his ring attire, with the white towel draped over his head. He just stares forward, walking very slowly. Members of the IIWF crew get out of his way as he walks towards Larry.] LM: Tony, do you have anything to say before your match to... uh... night? [Starks just stares at him, and the glare stops Larry in mid-sentence. Larry steps backwards to allow Starks passage to the entranceway, and looks after him, surprised.] LM: I guess Tony Starks is in no mood to speak to us tonight. Back to you at ringside. [Cut back to the announcers' table at ringside.] TD: One of the memorable moments at Ring Wars III had to be the looks that were exchanged between Otto Verhoeven and Tony Starks. It was clear that these men do not like each other. SR: No kidding, Dross. But Otto has reached the pinnacle of the IIWF, holding the World Championship. Starks has done anything except run away with a hurt knee and then caused a plane crash. TD: Tony Starks did NOT cause that plane crash, but the back injury he sustained kept him out of the ring for several months. But now he's back and he's eager to make another run at the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship. SR: That road goes through "The Butcher" and I don't think Starks has what it takes. TD: I think he proved at Ring Wars III that he does. Let's go up to Sparkplug Lee for our introductions. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Otto "the Butcher" Verhoeven vs. Tony Starks -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= WRITER: SO [Cut to Sparkplug, who flashes his pearly whites at the camera and wiggles his single eyebrow that covers both eyes.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, this grunge... excuse me, this _grudge_ match is one fall. Introducing first, from Essen, Germany, weighing in at 340 pounds, and accompanied to the ring by Nurse Heidi, he is the the man they call "The Butcher", he is Ottooooo Verhoeven! [Big heel pop as the theme from "Halloween" echoes throughout the arena. The pop grows as Nurse Heidi appears at the head of the aisle, then motions and claps her hands as Verhoeven enters the coliseum. They both ignore the fans as they make their way to the ring -- even one stubborn fan who waves an "OTTO spelled backward is still OTTO" homemade poster.] SR: These Oregonians never fail to amaze me with their ignorance. TD: This is a hotbed for wrestling enthusiasts, Steve. These fans know their stuff and they're here to support their favorites. SR: The only hotbed around that moron with the sign was the one his cousins slept in the night he was conceived. [The pop dies down as Verhoeven and Heidi enter the ring and talk quietly in the corner. Sparkplug again raises the microphone.] SL: And his opponent, hailing from Staten Island, New York, a man who recently made his _return_ to the IIWF, please give a big Coliseum welcome to Tooooooony Starks!] [Tremendous face pop as Starks charges into the arena. He stops midway down the aisle and admires a homemade "The Future Starks Here" sign, peering out from under the white towel wrapped around his head, trading high-fives with the fans in that area. Starks sees the aisle camera and flexes, saying "It's time ta kick a little butt!"] TD: Tony Starks is happy to be back in the IIWF and the fans are happy to have him here. What an ovation from this capacity crowd! SR: We'll see how happy these moron are when Verhoeven sends Starks out on a stretcher. [Head referee Earl Alfonso calls both men to the middle of the ring. He goes over the rules as Starks and Verhoeven merely stare at each other. Alfonso calls for a handshake. Neither man complies, so he calls for the bell.] TD: Just as we thought, there's no love lost between these men. SR: Did that little jerk Alfonso really expect them to... whoa, we've got action! [Verhoeven opens the match with a kick to Starks' midsection. As Starks doubles over, the Teutonic Terror delivers several hard forearm blows to Starks' back, finally driving Tony to one knee. Starks counters with a hard closed-fist blow to Otto's knee that sends Verhoeven back toward the corner.] TD: It's obvious that both men have done their homework. Verhoeven went right to work on Starks' back, which was injured in the plane crash. And Starks went right after the knee that Verhoeven injured a few weeks ago. SR: You can do more damage with a sore knee than a sore back though. [Verhoeven closes in for another attack, but is taken down by a legsweep. Starks goes back to work on Otto's knee, wrenching it around his calf. He stomps on the joint, finally causing Verhoeven to yell out. Starks surprisingly attempts to put a figure-four leglock on the big man, but Otto uses his good leg to kick Starks off. The New Yorker hits the turnbuckle hard and is staggered.] TD: Did you see that? Tony Starks was going for a figure-four. Has he added to his arsenal of submission moves? SR: Starks knows how much damage that hold can do. Remember, it was the "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin who injured Starks' knee with that move last year. But Verhoeven has seen it all. He knows how to counter these moves. [Verhoeven is quickly to his feet, showing only a slight limp. He backs Starks into the corner and begins a brutal assault of punches, then whips Tony into the opposite corner as the ring seems to move a few inches. Verhoeven, showing surprising agility, follows Starks into the corner and hits a splash. As Starks hits the canvas face-first, Verhoeven climbs to the second rope and vaults toward Starks, dropping a knee across his back. Big heel pop as Verhoeven points down at his opponent and yells "Here is your cripple!" Starks grimaces and attempts to get back to his feet, but Verhoeven quickly scoops him up and drops Starks into a backbreaker. Otto stands over Starks, then slaps his face and again calls him a cripple.] SR: That's the mark of a master, Dross. You go right back to the injured part of your opponent. Get him Otto! TD: I should mention that several opponents tried to work on Starks' back at Ring Wars III to no avail. He's been exercising his back so much in recent months that many think it is stronger than ever. SR: Nonsense. An injured back never completely heals. [Verhoeven rolls Starks up for the cover: 1 - 2 - kickout! The German pulls Starks to his feet and hits a powerbomb that takes the collective breaths from fans at ringside. Another cover by Verhoeven: 1 - 2 - kickout! Heidi yells something in German to Verhoeven, who nods and pulls Starks back to his feet before whipping him into the corner. Starks' back hits the turnbuckle and he staggers back toward the middle of the ring, only to be locked in a bearhug by Verhoeven.] TD: Verhoeven has dominated the action here of late and he seems to be wearing Starks down with his patented power attack. SR: Not only has Starks been injured, he's been away from the ring for a long time. Ring Wars III wasn't enough of a warmup to take on Verhoeven one-on-one. [Otto increases the pressure on Starks' back and Tony winces at the pain. The fans begin a "To-ny, To-ny" chant, which seems to give Starks extra energy. He shakes his fist in the air, then brings it down into the side of Verhoeven's head. Otto is staggered, but does not break the hold. Starks then raises both arms and chops Verhoeven on the side of the head. Starks is quick to capitalize, catching Verhoeven in a swinging neckbreaker and covering him: 1 - 2 - kickout by Verhoeven!] TD: That's how quickly Starks can change the complexion of a match! And he has thousands of fans behind him right now. SR: Morons. [Starks quickly climbs to the top rope and hits an elbow drop on Verhoeven's knee. He stomps Otto's knee unmercifully, then looks out at the crowd and moves his index finger across his throat in a cutting motion.] TD: Starks is saying this match is over. There's no telling which move he will... wait, it's a kneelock submission! Starks has locked it on the big man. It's only a matter of how long Verhoeven can stand the pain in his knee! SR: Verhoeven will never give up to Starks. He's a master of pain. [Verhoeven yells out as Heidi pounds on the ring apron. Verhoeven rests back, trying to block out the pain, but not realizing his shoulders are on the mat: 1 - 2 - Verhoeven narrowly beats a three count as he lifts his shoulder. Alfonso moves in close to Verhoeven to check on a submission, just as Otto attempts to roll. He "accidentally" hits Alfonso in the face. As the head ref drops to one knee holding his face, Heidi slips into the ring with a shoe in her hand and clubs Starks' head with it. Tony releases the hold as Heidi makes her escape.] TD: How many times have we seen a cheap shot like that?! SR: Alfonso didn't call for a disqualification. TD: He couldn't see it after Verhoeven belted him! SR: That was an honest error. TD: Uh-huh. Alfonso seems to be okay now and he's shaking off the effects of that shot better than Starks is recovering from that shoe shot. [Both wrestlers are back to their feet. Verhoeven limps toward Starks and decks him with a European uppercut. Kneeling, Starks hits Verhoeven with a right hand and then battles his way back to his feet. Both men exchange blows, with Verhoeven finally gaining the advantage, Otto turns to whip Starks into the corner, but Tony reverses it and Verhoeven hits the corner hard. Starks quickly follows with a belly-to-back suplex.] TD: What a move on that big man! Starks showed his power by lifting Verhoeven like he was a toy. SR: Yeah, but he hasn't... hey, what's Starks doing? TD: I think he's... yes! He's going for the Katha Jime chokehold... and he... yes, he's got it on! SR: Fight him, Otto! [Starks begins to roll around the ring, attempting to force Starks to lose his grip. He nearly makes it to the ropes, but Starks pulls him back toward the middle of the ring and Otto begins to lose his fight. After 30 seconds, it is obvious that Verhoeven cannot fight on and Heidi quickly climbs into the ring with her shoe again in her hand. However, Starks see her coming, releases the Kama Jime, grabs the front of Heidi's outfit and whips her between the ropes and out of the ring. Huge crowd pop as Heidi hits the mat.] TD: Vengeance is mine sayeth Tony Starks! SR: Oh, he'll pay for that! TD: Earl Alfonso is calling for the bell. Obviously, Verhoeven is disqualified because of Heidi's action, but it doesn't look like Starks is finished. [Starks looks out at the crowd and points at Verhoeven. He is met with a massive pop, then grabs Verhoeven's injured leg and locks on the figure-four. Verhoeven is writhing in pain as Alfonso attempts to get Starks to release the hold. The ring bell continues to chime.] TD: Tony Starks should be careful he doesn't get this decision reversed. He won't let go of this hold! SR: Give Verhoeven the win! TD: Starks seems intent on hurting Verho... wait a minute! Here comes Lord Byron! What's he doing here! SR: The European Alliance is alive and well, Dross! [Byron flies into the ring and nails Starks with his cane. The figure- four is broken, but Byron continues to use the cane to beat on Starks. Verhoeven slowly gets to his feet, favoring his injured leg, but grabs Starks executes a meathook chokeslam. Verhoeven then notices Heidi outside the ring and leaves to check on her while Byron locks the Aristoclutch on Starks.] SR: Byron and Verhoeven has proven that Europeans can stick together in the IIWF. They've formed a European Alliance that will turn this fed on its ear. These guys will.... [Roberts is interrupted by a huge pop as Creed flies down the aisle. The rookie leaps into the ring and attacks Byron, quickly overpowering him. He presses Byron over his head and walks to the ropes. Verhoeven looks up only in time to see Creed hurl the Englishman at him. Both heels hit the outside mat hard.] TD: Creed to the rescue! This young man has done it all during his tenure in the IIWF, and he'll shortly have a chance to win the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship. SR: You know what they say about payback, Dross. TD: Yeah, it's impossible if Sparkplug Lee owes you money. [Creed stands guard over Starks while he recovers and pulls himself to his feet. The two keep an eye on the recovering Byron and Verhoeven as they slide from the ring and back up the aisle. Verhoeven is able to get Heidi back to her feet and the European Alliance soon makes its way up the aisle.] TD: The European Alliance may have announced itself here tonight, but it also found some opposition. And Earl Alfonso tells us that Verhoeven did indeed lose the match by disqualification because of Heidi's interference. SR: That's just one loss. No sweat. These guys can make noise, Dross. You ain't seen nothing yet! TD: Well we have plenty left to see on tonight's show, so let's get on with it. It's time for tonight's edition of LaRue's Lair. Becky has been very guarded about just who tonight's guest is, but she's promising someone very special. Over to you, Becky. [Cut to the LaRue's Lair set. Becky enters, dressed in an almost absurdly revealing dress, as usual, and preens herself in front of the cheering fans. She raises her microphone and speaks over the wolf-whistles:] BL: Welcome to what has to be the undisputed highlight of every Saturday Night, the uncut, uncensored, uncanny interview session made special for only one reason: ME! TD: [over the headset] She never stops, does she? SR: [over the headset] Go, Becks! BL: Now, as I told everybody, I have a special... or not-so-special... treat in store for everyone tonight. You see, I wanted one last opportunity to show without a doubt that I am the greatest interviewer in the world today... and the best looking! Now you all can just sit back and marvel as I put the questions to your beloved, out-of-shape, overhyped, retired wrestling hero... TD: [over the headset] Oh boy. If this is who I think it is, then... SR: [over the headset] Then relax and watch Becky at her best! BL: You all wanted him, but only Becky the Great could get him here... the man with the crush on me too big to tame... Please welcome Dan "Flash" Kauffman! ["Black Cat" starts to play at a fever pitch, and seemingly from nowhere, a huge roar and a "Kauff - man!" chant starts up! Becky stands waiting with a smile as the newly-retired Dan Kauffman... in blue jeans, a Baltimore Orioles jersey, an IIWF cap on, and most noticably a sling on his left arm... enters the Coliseum to a huge ovation! Cameras flash endlessly as fans get another opportunity to see Kauffman live as he makes his way up to the podium...] BL: Well, Dan... [As Becky starts, Dan pulls out his own microphone...] DK: Hold on a second, my dear... BL: What's this? [As Becky watches on in interest, Dan pulls from his jeans pocket a flowing strand of pearls... the beads gleam brightly in the light, and Becky's face changes expression...] BL: Are these real? DK: Sure enough. I got to thinking about something I did 'bout three months back, and I think it was a little cheap to do. So I went out and... well... anyway, these should fit nicely... BL: You don't have to do that... [As Becky tries to interfere, Dan wraps the pearls around her neck, fastens them, and lets them hang, much to Becky's disbelief...] DK: There. Now see Becky, there's more to being a gentleman than what you'd like to believe. BL: [slightly blushing] You've had a crush on me for a long time, haven't you? [The crowd is still taking pictures, and when a smile comes on Dan's face, a murmur sweeps through the arena... Getting louder as Dan wraps his arm around Becky...] DK: Well... you know how it is, Becks... I mean, you've always said you were the best looking person in the biz, and seeing as how Steve Roberts never put up much of a fight... I guess your claim is correct. As far as a crush goes... Well, I've always envied Kinder... I mean, his wrestling skill wasn't much, but his taste in women is another matter entirely... [Kauffman can't help to smile a little, and some of the fans, having caught onto Kauffman's act, laugh along... Becky, undaunted as always, moves on...] BL: No crying. No excuses. No farewell speeches or saccarin reflections: How does it feel to go out a loser? DK: Now see, there's another wonderful thing about you, Becks. You never fail to get straight to the point. But as far as your definition of "loser" as compared to mine, _you_ see me as a washed up, beaten has-been who got his butt whipped in his last match. Yeah, I got my butt whipped pretty good, but as far as being a loser, ask the fans if I went out a loser. [Dan turns to his fans...] Well? [The crowd erupts "NO!!!", and begins to cheer again, the "Kauff - man!" chant picking up once more...] DK: There you have it, Becky... Proof positive that, while I lost my last match, I did not go out a loser. BL: Yeah, whatever. Let's hear the dirt. The other wrestlers can't get back at you now, so I want to hear the truth. I want raw... I want your honest opinion on snivelling Marty Warnett. DK: Snivelling? I never knew he had a health problem. [to the crowd] Must be trying to impersonate me... No, Marty Warnett is a great wrestler who is capable of great things. I don't know him much outside of the ring personally, but in the ring, the scary thing about Marty is that he has yet to reach his full potential. Marty Warnett is a legend in the making, and he certainly is not a snivelling idiot, like one redhead would like everyone to believe. BL: [she ignores the sleight] How about Nurse Heidi? DK: You mean that German who, for some reason, wants to be with that vicious Verhoeven? See, I think Heidi needs to get her brain checked... but hey, as far as a manager goes, look at where Verhoeven has gotten. Heidi is a shrewd woman... as if those two aren't synonymous... And Heidi has, fair or no, helped Verhoeven become successful. That's the sign of a good manager, and though I don't like how Verhoeven and Heidi do their business, it works for them, and that's all that matters. BL: Then what do you think of the "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin? DK: Toughest S.O.B. I ever stepped in the ring with, other than Deathbringer. The guy could take a punch and dish one out equally well. He deserves to be in the IIWF Hall of Fame. Certainly one of your better men, Becky. BL: Definitely one of my better men. But enough of that. Is there any truth to the rumor that you'll be grabbing an office in IIWF Towers? DK: [smiles] Shhhh... Don't tell just yet. But possibly. BL: What about you becoming a... [winces]... a broadcaster? DK: And take your job? [pauses] Well... maybe I could do that... In fact, what say I make an appearance at Birthday Bash as an announcer? Yeah, why don't we see how good I am. What about it, guys? [The crowd cheers loudly, and Kauffman looks back to LaRue...] DK: The verdict is in! One announcing job at Birthday Bash! BL: Great, that's all I need... Brandon Bennett. Joe Latta. Your dog. You didn't care who you stepped on in your quest for glory. DK: Nope. [Big Smile] I wanted to use them all! Right down to my damned dog, I was determined to step up to the top! Yeah, Becky... I _really_ used all my friends as a ladder to get to the top. If that's what you want to believe... BL: Do you miss the days of "Danny Khaos"? [The crowd winces at the memory of the Dan Kauffman who walked the IIWF aisle two months back, and Kauffman, not expecting the question, has to step away to compose himself...] DK: [stepping forward] No. That was a mistake. I'm beyond that now. There's no sense in looking back. BL: If he can't define himself as a wrestler anymore, then what is Dan Kauffman? DK: Simple. A human being. That's all I ever was, that's all I ever will be. That's all I _want_ to be. BL: You really have a crush on me, don't you? DK: [laughs] Becky, EVERYONE has a crush on you! [smiles] Hell, hold on a second... [Kauffman walks out into the aisleway and walks up to a college student with a "Becky Rules" shirt.] DK: May I ask you, do you have a crush on this here Becky LaRue? FAN: HELL YES! WHOOOOOOOOOO! DK: [Through crowd] Well, there you have it! [Dan calmly walks back up to the interview area with a smile on his face, the sling on his arm not affecting his movement...] BL: You only won one IIWF title, yet you will go out thought of as a champ. Don't you feel like a fraud? DK: That is a genuine redhead question right there... yes sir, only the _great_ Becky could come up with the possibility of me being a fraud. Now listen, Becks... If walking out to that ring every fortnight without a mask, without a gimmick, with 100 percent effort, and with genuine heart makes one a fraud, all the great wrestlers of our time must be frauds then. It doesn't matter how many titles I won, what matters is I worked my ass off harder than almost anyone else in the IIWF, and that's why I am standing here a legend. BL: Aside from me, what will you miss most about the IIWF? DK: [mocking] Aside from you? [sarcastic] All those wild cocktail parties with the lil' reddie dancing on the bar... BL: [shocked] I didn't think you knew... DK: Oh come on, Becks, like anyone sees you as the innocent type. Of course we knew! BL: [sighs] If you had a child, and I get ill at the thought, would you want it to become a wrestler? DK: My kids, when they grow up, don't have to become wrestlers. They can live out their dream, whatever it may be, and I will happily watch them on their road of life. I'll let my kids grow up to be themselves... That's all any father should want for his kids. BL: You've got a sling on your arm. If you don't stop that, you could grow hair on your palms too. DK: Oh please! [sarcastically] This is a little bit too much... [seriously] Kids, NEVER get a Fuginama armbar put on you. It _hurts_! _Bad_! _Real_ _bad_! So bad that I have a torn tendon in my elbow. But I'll recover. And possibly grow more hair... BL: If you could have one last match, who would it be against? Aside from me. DK: Hmmm... I don't know, I suppose anyone who wanted a shot. BL: I'm sure the line is already forming. Any last words before I never have to speak with you again? DK: Well... [As if on cue, the thousands of fans in the stands who have been listening to every word with keen interest now start to stand and cheer their longtime hero as he makes his final statement...] DK: To all those who doubted me, look around you right now. Look at what a skinny, talent-less, naive kid has made of himself. Look at how these intelligent fans [pop!] understand what I've gone through. You see, this is what kept me going for the months, knowing that wherever I went, these people would be behind me. I have a new life to live. One that includes a beautiful wife... sorry, Becky... a new sportswriting career, and a lot of fun. But when I stand here and say something, it comes from inside. I like to have fun and kid around like everyone else, but there is no joke to the fact that all the fans I have seen that have cheered for me will stay with me no matter where I go. To them, to the wrestlers who have stood by me and saluted me, to the announcers who have either pushed me on or chided me unselfishly... That would be you, Steve... and to the millions of fans around the world, I say goodnight. But I promise you all that I'll never say goodbye. [There is a huge pop as the fans applaud...] SR: [over the headset] Damn it. Will we never be rid of this idiot? TD: [over the headset] Please, Steve. DK: Hold on, just one more item. I had the honor of hearing what Chris Quigley had to say, and I thank him for his respect. Chris Quigley, you said that you'd win the title from James, and dedicate the match to me. There's no need to do that. When you win that title someday, dedicate the win to the fans and to yourself. I've been there. I have no need to be honored in such a manner. Chris, enjoy the championship should it become yours. Don't worry about dedications, just worry about you. And Chris, I may be retiring, but if there ever comes a time when you need someone to watch your back... I'm only a call away. IIWF, thanks for the memories... ["Black Cat" starts to play again, and the crowd erupts one more time as Kauffman walks off. He waves to the fans in all areas of the arena, shaking hands with those close enough to the aisle. As Kauffman departs, Becky finishes...] BL: See you later, Dan. I feel I hardly knew you. Too bad... Now I'm not one to editorialise, nor one to let my opinions cloud my impartial journalistic integrity, but I have a few things to add here. The first is: never give Dan Kauffman an open mic. The second is: I know over the past year I have goaded "Dlash", maybe even ridiculed him a bit. But I want to say right now, in all honesty, I REALLY can't stand that pompous, overbearing, self-absorbed, long-winded glorified runtweight. We'll dedicate a toilet stall in your honor. Oh, and I'm keeping the pearls. [Cut back to the ringside announcers' table.] TD: I can say that I'm a little choked up. BL: [over the headset. The camera cuts back.] I just wanted to add that Dan Kauffman wants me so bad that it hurts. I hear he asked his wife to dye her hair red. [Cut back to ringside.] TD: Thank you, Becky, for killing what was otherwise a touching farewell. SR: Do you need a tissue, Dross? Or is your toupee sufficient? TD: I've heard from the producer that Larry is somewhere in the crowd with Mr. Friday, who made an unscheduled appearance on Wednesday night. Larry? [Cut to Larry Morton in the stands. Seated to Larry's right is the burly Mr. Friday, and next to him is seated the masked wrestler known as El Diablo.] LM: Thanks, Tim. I'm here with former champion weightlifter, Mr. Friday, and his newest recruit, former luchador El Diablo. Mr. Friday, what brings you here tonight? Rumour has it that you're looking for a partner for El Diablo. MF: Well, I'm here to run my eye over the talent you've got in the IIWF. I've got a few names on my list but I'm still looking for that wrestler who can complement the talents of my man El Diablo. Beyond that, I'm saying nothing. LM: Thanks, Mr. Friday. Back to you, Tim. [Cut back to the announcers' table at ringside.] TD: I'll tell you, Steve Roberts, you can feel it -- you can sense it -- there is change in the air here at the IIWF Coliseum tonight. A new day might well be dawning here in the IIWF. We might well be looking at another title change right here. SR: Dross, I know I don't say this enough, but, from the bottom of my heart, let me say that you are a moron. TD: Soundbite, you'd better buy me a drink if you're gonna keep sweet talking me like that. SR: Wha...? Hey, not bad, Dross. You know, I think LaRue was right -- you are getting sort of uppity recently. What's gotten into you? TD: Actually, I believe the phrase Ms. LaRue used was "stuck up" -- and I'll have to defer to her demonstrated experience regarding that particular condition. SR: Ha! You might have what it takes to become a "L'il Soundbiter" yet, Dross. I've got a couple of spare t-shirts in the back... what do you like on your biscuits? TD: Let's get to ringside. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= IIWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Dark Disciples [c] vs. Pain Inc. --------------------------------------- WRITER: JJ [Sparkplug Lee forgets to remove the El Super Gecko mask given to him by a fan earlier in the evening, and enters the ring dressed as everyone's favorite lizard.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, hsssssss, the following contest in ssssset for one fall -- and is for the IIWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP! [Pop as "More Human Than Human" kicks in over the P.A.] SL: Introducing first, the challengers, at a combined weight of 585lbs., accompanied to the ring by their manager Mr. Mic and the Night Patrol... Morningstar and Hellraiser... PAIN INC.! [The collective hits the aisle, the masked men leading the way, obviously absent are Brenda Hawkings and bodyguard Hades. Pain Inc. reach ringside... where they are swarmed over from both sides by Kane, Wulf, Thunder and Tiger Claw!! Big heel Pop!] TD: It's the Syndicate! They are making their presence felt right here -- we might not see this match! SR: See, this is what I'm talking about. There is no way the Disciples are going to lose these belts tonight -- the Syndicate is too strong and they are taking whatever they want! [Claw and Thunder focus on the Night Patrol - and they battle the now former US Tag Champs back up the aisle and out of view. Don McQueen and Mr. Mic get into an ineffectual shoving match of their own...and the Disciples now shove Morningstar and Hellraiser into the ring...Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: This match is underway... and it looks like Wulf and Morningstar are going to be the legal men. SR: There's nothing even barely legal about the Disciples -- these guys are extreme to the extreme! [Wulf pounds at the sides of Morningstar's head - driving the smaller man back into the corner. Wulf lands a series of clubbing forearms... and then a headbutt that put Morningstar onto the canvas. Wulf picks up Morningstar by the top of his mask, hits him with brutal European uppercuts and Irish whips him... Morningstar hits the ropes and slides between Wulf's legs... pops to his feet... and dropkicks the Disciple to the mat! Pop! Morningstar springboards into a crossbody... and is caught by Wulf into a fallaway slam that brings a big pop from the Syndicate fans.] TD: That Wulf is so strong. Pain Inc. has a real problem here, Steve Roberts, because basically they are a power team -- that can't match power with the Dark Disciples. SR: Good, Dross. Good. Morningstar moves around okay -- but he's 280lbs. Mr. Mic has got to get Hellraiser in there. [Wulf makes a cover..1-No - then picks up Morningstar and tags in Kane. Wulf holds the Indonesian and Kane drills him with sharp blows to the midsection and then corner whips him... reverse... Kane hits the buckle hard and takes even a harder forearm to the head by Hellraiser leading him into a waistlock...and a german suplex by Morningstar who covers... 1 - 2 - No! Kickout by Kane.] TD: They do know each other's movers, this Pain Inc. squad -- and since their alliance with Team Brutality, they have really stepped up their games. SR: Yeah, but notice what the Syndicate does -- they eliminated Night Patrol -- helped take their belts and their manager. Brian Lau's boys are the smartest in the business. [Morningstar has a hard reverse chinlock on Kane... failing to see Wulf coming up behind, but Hellraiser is not so afflicted, cutting off the big Disciple with a running lariat and all four men are in the ring. Pain Inc. pick up Kane and Irish whips him into a double boot... and then catch Wulf with a double clothesline that knocks the monster over the top rope and clear out to the floor! Big Pop!] TD: Now it's Pain Inc, Steve Roberts... that's how they combat the power advantage of the Champs -- with those double teams. SR: Double teams are illegal, Dross. Next you're gonna be extolling the joys of insider trading. [Hellraiser assumes the roll of legal man - and he is all over Kane, keeping the smaller man on the mat with a series of elbowdrops to the knee - Hellraiser picks up Kane, whips him farside, into a brainbuster suplex that drives the head of the Disciple hard into the mat... cover... 1 - 2 - save by Wulf! Wulf returns to the outside... leading Morningstar to come into the ring for a series of quick boots to Kane as the official has his back turned. Wulf tries to get back in the ring... but is cut off by the official... allowing Morningstar to climb back into the ring and he and Hellraiser hit Kane with a double vertical suplex and another cover...] TD: Wulf grabs the official! One! Two! Three! The official is just being held there by Wulf! SR: No one in this business is smarter than the Syndicate, Dross. Even Wulf knows how to play the mental game. [The official finally is able to make the count... but Kane kicks out at one... and Hellraiser angrily slaps the mat. Hellraiser picks up Kane in a scoop slam... then picks his up again... whipping him into the corner and charging... and landing a full body press that drives the smaller Disciple hard into the corner. Big Pop!] TD: Pain Inc. continues to dominate here... are you beginning to change your mind about this title match, Steve Roberts? SR: I'll hand it it to Pain Inc., even with the obvious distraction of Night Patrol losing their belts -- and their manager -- Mr. Mic has his men ready to fight. But it just won't be enough against the Syndicate. [Morningstar jumps in and the two men work over Kane in the corner... Wulf again prevented from entering by the official... Pain Inc. double whips Kane farside... but he comes back off the ropes with a sunset flip that catches Hellraiser. NO! Hellraiser drives a fist to Kane's head. Morningstar springboards into a diving headbutt, and Hellraiser again has a lateral press... 1 - 2 - Another kickout by Kane!] TD: A game effort by the Disciple, but unless he makes a tag soon, it will be too little, too late for the champs. [Don McQueen looks clearly concerned now as Kane remains on the mat in a reverse chinlock by Morningstar -- who has assumed the role of legal man. Morningstar cinches up the chinlock... and moves to an asiatic spike that has Kane flailing his arms wildly...] TD: We might see a submission! We might see new tag champs after all... [The crowd is on its feet as Kane struggles, painfully trying to get to his feet, trying to break the hold. Kane reaches back over his head to grab at Morningstar's mask and begins to pull it from his head! Hellraiser now makes an aborted run into the ring... he is cut off by the official... and Wulf is right there to drop a big leg on Morningstar... and roll Kane out of the ring!!] TD: He's not the legal man! Wulf is not the legal man! SR: If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times: this ain't The People's Court -- this is the IIWF! And Wulf is cleanin' house! [The big Disciple nails each member of Pain Inc. with a clothesline... then scoops up Morningstar and powerslams him atop Hellraiser! Pop! Kane now goes to the top rope... and Wulf gets set to slam him onto both members of Pain Inc...] TD: It's Hades! It's Hades! Hades has come out of the crowd... and he's grabbed Kane's leg! [Mr. Mic's bodyguard is on the apron, and is holding onto Kane... Wulf turns and give him a hard shove down to the floor, and is then met by a dropkick by Morningstar that drives him out of the ring. Pop! Kane is able to maintain his balance on the top rope... and comes down on Hellraiser with a big elbow! Pop! Kane covers...] TD: He's not the legal man! He's not the legal man! [The official dives over... but does not count... informing Kane that he and Morningstar are the legal men... Kane stands to argue the point... failing to notice that Hellraiser has just been slipped a foreign object by Mr. Mic... Kane turns back...] TD: Hellraiser just nailed him with that hunk of metal! Kane is down! There's the cover. [The official dives to the mat as Hellraiser covers - 1 - Wulf crawls back to the ring and lurches - 2 - Don McQueen lunges at Kane... and pulls his leg underneath the rope! - 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: What... I believe Kane's foot was pulled underneath that rope! I think we have... what do we have? [The arena is abuzz as Sparkplug Lee takes the mic...] SL: The winners... AND _NEW_ IIWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS... PAIN INC.! [The IIWF Coliseum explodes with a roar as Mr. Mic grabs his long coveted tag belts... and he and Pain Inc. quickly return up the aisle back to the dressing room. Don McQueen is yelling at the officials that Kane's foot was under the rope -- but the official is having none of it, saying that it was a legal pinfall. Kane and Wulf skulk back up to the aisle, each man snarling something about revenge... revenge...] TD: Well, I hate to pat myself on the back, but I did tell you so, Steve Roberts. And you have to wonder what this means for the red-gloved rookie Creed when he pits that eleven-match unbeaten streak against the IIWF Heavyweight Champion later on tonight. SR: What it means for Creed is a beating -- an absolute, unmitigated beating. Casey james is walking out of here tonight not only with the IIWF title firmly around his waist -- but that punk Creed's head tucked under his arm. TD: Well, that extraordinary turn of events brings us up to the big battle royal. Even you, Steve Roberts, have to be excited about this one. SR: I'm not the excitable sort, Dross. I don't mind seeing the goodie- goodies turn on each other like wolves though. Everybody's true colors seem to shine through during a battle royal. We get to see guys like Quigley, Warnett and Kauffman for who they really are. TD: Dan Kauffman's retired, Steve. SR: Yeah, I know. I just like hearing you say it, Dross. Dan Kauffman's dead -- long live Harlequin Melody! TD: I will agree with you on one thing, Steve Roberts, this "Go For The Gold" gauntlet challenge has sure jumpstarted the IIWF on the way to Birthday Bash on May, 10. SR: You know, Dross, I happened to catch a couple of minutes of your show on Tuesday, there was rock music and you were showing movie clips and that idiot kid ... TD: Steve Summer. SR: ...was babbling on about something, but I didn't really catch the rules of this gauntlet challenge, something involving Walnut yelling out "Yahtzee" when his ass gets thrown over the top rope by Lady DeWinter. TD: Not exactly, Steve. The winner of the battle royal will have earned the opportunity to "run the gauntlet". That means that next week, he'll meet the IIWF Cruiserweight Champ, The White Phoenix, in a non-title match. Now, if he wins that match, the following week, the battle royal winner will meet the Intercontinental Champion, also in a non-title match... and then the following week, he'll meet the Heavyweight Champion. SR: Casey James. TD: Well, I think the rookie might have something to say about that... but the battle royal winner will meet the Heavyweight Champion -- and then -- only if he has successfully defeated all three champions -- only then will he have earned the right to join all of them in a four-way elimination match, with the last fall being for the highest belt contested in that fall. Of course, all weight limitations apply, offer void where prohibited. Sorry, Tennessee. SR: I'm sorry, I wasn't listening. Can you go through that again? TD: No. Let's get to ringside. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "Go For The Gold" Battle Royal -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= WRITER: JJ [Sparkplug Lee discards his 3x5 cards in favour of an enormously oversized yellow legal pad which draws guffaws from the crowd.] SL: Ladies and gentleman, the following contest is the "Go For The Gold" Battle Royal! In just a few moments, the first two competitors will enter the ring. Thereafter, every two minutes an additional man will enter in the order of his randomly drawn number, until all 20 men have entered. Elimination occurs whenever a man goes out over the top rope -- and has both feet hit the floor. The final man left in the ring will be the winner of the "Go For The Gold" Battle Royal! [Big expectant pop as the crowd cranes its collective neck toward the top of the aisle, all awaiting the music that will signify each of the twenty IIWF superstars who will, over the next 38 minutes, make their way to the ring.] TD: I'll tell you quite honestly, folks, I'm with Steve Roberts on this one. I love a battle royal -- particularly one of this style, where you simply do not know which man is about to come down to the ring. I'm really starting to feel it. SR: I'm not really feeling anything yet, Dross. Hey -- speaking of not feeling anything -- what have you heard from our buddy Christopher Reeve recently? TD: Will you stop? [Without any music to signify his introduction, Ronnie Paris begins his walk to the ring, slapping the hands of the fans near the aisle.] TD: Ronnie Paris has drawn number one. Not a lucky draw for Mr. Paris. It is gonna be a tough road for anyone to survive nearly an hour Against some of the greatest wrestlers in the world. SR: Haven't we seen enough of this guy tonight, Dross? I'd like to see the pictures he has of somebody. On second thought, I'll pass. [Heel pop as "Paint It Black" blares out -- and Mad Dog Watkins slowly makes his way to the ring.] TD: Oh my... here's one dog that you do not want to tease after that loss to Creed at Ring Wars 3. SR: Yeah, but he's injured, Dross. It's a damn shame that he has to wear that cast in the ring, that's gonna be a real detriment to him. TD: Or he might use that cast as a weapon, giving him a big advantage. SR: Even better. [Watkins smiles as he reaches the ring, and he and Paris quickly lock up, Watkins goes behind for a hammerlock... standing switch... Paris with a waistlock takedown that sends Watkins to the mat. Pop!] TD: Remember those wars that these two men had several months ago -- that tremendous Ironman match -- there might be some unfinished business... look at Watkins! Look at Watkins! Right there he cheap shots Paris with that "broken" forearm. SR: He's makin' the best of his disability! He's "handicapable", just like the Superfreak! [Watkins pounds Paris into the mat as the outside officials are powerless to stop him -- then throws Paris into the corner and slaps repeated reverse knife edges -- before trying to maneuver him over the top rope... as the next music plays...] TD: Here comes number three... ["Black Cat" fills the arena as Luke Steele sprints into the ring.] TD: Here comes Luke Steele! SR: Oh yeah -- now Ronnie Paris is in for a serious beat down. These guys are gonna waylay him. [Paris sees Steele enter and rakes the face of Watkins', freeing him to meet "The Real Deal" in the middle of the ring with a drop toe hold and then begin peppering him with elbowdrops to the back of the neck. Watkins stands by, hands on hips, watching the smaller men tear at each other... Paris now sending right hands at Steele, gathering emotion from the crowd which is solidly behind him, Paris slaps on a half crab and bends away... and is dropped to the mat from a big lariat by Watkins! Heel Pop! Heel Pop as the theme from "High Plains Drifter" begins...] TD: It's Brody Thunder! Brody Thunder's number 4! [Thunder ambles to the ring as Watkins and Steele doubleteam Paris, each putting the boots to him, Watkins then hits Paris with a backbreaker as Steele climbs to the top rope and drops a sidewinder leg on Paris! Pop! Steele and Watkins high five as Thunder throws Paris off to the side... and then Watkins hits Steele with an inverted neckbreaker! Pop!] TD: Did you see that, Steve Roberts? Mad Dog Watkins just turned on Luke Steele. He just snapped his neck -- and Thunder tossed him out over the top rope! Luke Steele has been eliminated. SR: So long, baby dolls. [Thunder clotheslines Watkins near the rope... but Mad Dog responds with a boot to the midsection and a scissor kick that sends Thunder to the mat. Watkins stomps the head... and Thunder meets his with a forearm to the groin and a snapmare takeover... Prodigy's "The Trick" begins...] TD: Here comes Cheshire! [The German acrobat enters via the top rope from which he leaps with a somersault legdrop on the still disoriented Paris...Thunder his Watkins with a gutwrench suplex as the two men battle in the middle of the ring... Paris battles again from the ropes and whips Cheshire farside, greeting him on his return with a spinning heel kick that nearly sends the clown over...] TD: Looks like Cheshire's in some trouble... SR: Thunder and Watkins are just beating the hell out of each other in the middle of the ring, Dross. I don't know if either one is looking for an elimination, they're just slugging it out. I love it! [..."Don't Fear the Reaper" kicks in to a big heel pop over the PA...] SR: Ah yeah, ah yeah, the Fury is in the house! [...Steve Kowalski strides to the ring, as Cheshire has now reversed on Paris and now has him ready to go... Watkins executes a hook cradle suplex on Thunder... Kowalski enters the ring and grabs the back of Cheshire's head, pulling him away from Paris, hits him with a short-arm clothesline and...] TD: That's a Skullpump! Kowalski just Skullpumped Cheshire and dropped him like a cheating girlfriend over the top rope! SR: Two down, baby dolls. [...Kowalski puts a cursory boot into Paris' midsection, knocking him underneath the bottom rope... and then the Fury moves to the middle of the ring. Kowalski pulls Watkins and Thunder apart, waves a finger in each of their faces... and clotheslines each man to the mat! Pop! Kowalski dives atop... and now all three men are brawling on the mat in the middle of the ring! Big pop! ..."Snakes" begins as a familar figure stumbles out to the ring...] TD: Here comes Dirt Dog Unique Allah! SR: What was your first clue, Dross, the music or that stench? [Unique isn't alone as he has brought the entire Rage contingent along with him, Medusa leading the way and the Prophets bringing up the rear...Watkins hits Kowalski with a spinebuster -- Thunder takes Watkins down with a belly-to-back suplex -- Kowalski then drops Thunder with a leg lariat and the three men continue to brawl in the middle of the ring. Dirt Dog, seeing this, refuses to enter, yelling out, "This doggie don't want none of them muh-fuh's," and hides behind Shadoe Rage as the officials attempt to coax him into the ring. Paris struggles to his feet and lurches to the middle of the ring... and is met by triple right hands by all three of the brawling warriors. Big pop!] TD: Did you see that, Steve Roberts? Those men just nailed Ronnie Paris with simultaneous right hands! Paris is taking a brutal amount of punishment... and Kowalski, Thunder and Watkins go right back to this big brawl! Wild! SR: We got another victim, Dross. Here comes Spur. [Spur quickly moves up behind Dirt Dog, who is still fighting to stay out of the ring -- and hits him with a high knee, knocking him to the apron and both men go into the ring. They throw right hands at each other... ...Thunder/Watkins/Kowalski exchange atomic drops... ...and then Unique and Spur begin attacking Paris, trying to hoist him over the top rope... Dirt Dog pulls up and points to the middle of the ring...] TD: Unique and Spur are working together... and I think Dirt Dog wants to go into the middle... SR: Yeah, go get 'em, Dog. I'm sure Watkins is quaking in fear. [...Heel pop as Brian Lau and Tiger Claw make their way to the ring...] TD: He's back, Steve Roberts. The three-time IIWF Intercontinental Champion returns to the ring! [...Unique starts clapping his hands together, urging the crowd to begin a "Spur! Spur! Spur!" chant... and the masked man is sufficiently moved to make a kamikaze dash to the middle of the ring... ....and is hit with a clothesline by Thunder that sends him back to commiserate with Unique, who drops the top rope down and sends him to the outside!] SR: Aw, I was sure we had a winner with Spur. [Spur points up at Unique when he reaches the floor, vowing revenge for the double cross, "Bad Dog...Bad doggie," is Unique's response as he returns to face... Tiger Claw, who explodes on both he and Paris with quick round and reverse round kicks. The men in the middle continue the brawl, Watkins hitting a huge Northern Lights Suplex on Kowalski -- then taking both a standing side kick from Thunder and a bite on the forehead from Kowalski.] TD: Here comes the Subway Psycho! SR: He can't do that! Is he...? He can't do that! [Big face pop as Subway Psycho charges the ring wildly, without benefit of music, he leaps at Claw, clotheslining him over the top rope -- then, jumping to the top buckle and diving down with a double axe on the back of Claw's head. Pop!] TD: They're both eliminated! Subway Psycho has just eliminated Tiger Claw and then eliminated himself... yes, both men are eliminated -- and Subway Psycho is all over Tiger Claw! SP: He's snapped! The sewer freak has finally snapped! [Subway Psycho is on top of Tiger Claw on the outside, putting him in some type of modified STF/Camel Clutch maneuver while screaming at the top of his lungs, the two ringside offcials move to try to wrench Subway Psycho from Claw... while on the opposite side, Watkins and Kowalski have whipped Thunder to the ropes... and he is backdropped over the top by... Ronnie Paris! Shocked pop!] TD: Thunder is out! Thunder is... what's going... it's the High Plains Drifters. They're throwing Thunder back in the ring! Pale and Easy just ran down and threw Thunder back in the ring! SR: And Pale pulled Ronnie Paris out! I love it! Paris is gone, Dross. Thunder is back and Paris is gone! [Paris tries to climb back in the ring -- but the official has now disengaged himself from Subway Psycho -- who security is now leading to the back. Paris is upset, telling the official that he had Thunder pulled over -- but Thunder is now dominating the action in the middle, having executed titl-a-whirl suplexes on both Kowalski and Watkins. Paris points up at the Drifters who are now laughingly making their way to the back... ..."Some Days It's Dark" begins.] TD: Oh my, here comes that big Annis, he does not look happy at all. SR: I think he's number 10, Dross. I think we're halfway through. And Serge is gonna go to work on Dirt Dog Unique Allah! Take out the trash, Serge. [Unique tries to start a "Serge! Serge! Serge!" chant -- but the big man is having none of it and he rips solidly into Dirt Dog with big right hands, lifting Unique now with one hand... and hurling him over the top rope... ...where he is CAUGHT by Shadoe Rage... and thrown back over the top rope... over Serge's head... and he superkicks Annis to the ropes... but Serge holds on...] SR: Can they do that, Dross? Unique got thrown over! He's out! TD: Not until both feet hit the floor, Steve Roberts. Shadoe is not the floor. SR: Then why did Night Patrol walk all over them at Ring Wars, Dross? [Serge has regained control of Dirt Dog -- trying to hoist him over the top rope -- while the three men in the middle continue an all-out brawl. It is Kowalski now who hits Watkins with a fallaway slam -- but takes an elbow to the groin from Thunder for his troubles. Watkins then hits Thunder with a palm strike and the war continues... ...."Native Son" by Bryan Adams is now played....] TD: Here comes Nightwing -- and he is coming fast and furious. SR: He'll go out just the same way, Dross. After the little incident in the back -- Nightwing won't be staying long. [Nightwing enters the ring and immediately attacks Annis, leveling the bigger man with back to back dropkicks. The young Native American then Irish whips Unique into a knife edge that puts him on the mat. Big Pop. Nightwing then quickly moves to the center...] TD: Oh, I don't think he wants any part of those boys, those boys are in no mood for outsiders. SR: Cook him up like the biscuits, Kowalski. [Nightwing leaps into the fray, hitting all three men with reverse knife edge chops. Pop! Nightwing whips Kowalski hard into Thunder -- taking both men off their feet. Nightwing then turns to Watkins... who side suplexes him in a hotshot off the top rope. Big pop!] TD: Oh, see this is bad. Kowalski and Thunder have been in the ring just going toe-to-toe for virtually this entire match -- Mad Dog Watkins has literally been in there the whole match -- and they are not gonna fool around with... OH MY! SR: Nightwing's gonna meet the bird sooner than he thought, Dross. [Kowalski, Thunder and Watkins together lifted Nightwing into the air -- and tossed him clear out into the aisle. As Nightwing attempts to stand he is knocked down again by the oncoming Harlequins.] TD: It's the US Tag Team Champions! It's the Harlequins! [Tragedy grabs the young man by the neck, and a nearby camera catches his words:] HT: Listen up and listen good, you ungrateful little worm. No one -- and I mean NO ONE -- turns his back on us and gets away with it. You begged for our help and then you feign ignorance! Bad move, rookie. Nobody messes with the Harlequins and gets away with it! Compared to what we can do, your people bailing out's gonna seem like a freakin' bike ride. Make peace with the spirits, because this thing's not over. [Tragedy shoves Nightwing to the floor... and then Cheshire enters from the back to a surprised pop and drags Nighwing away, keeping him from further harm by the Harlequins.] TD: That's an odd scene, folks, there apparently is some unfinished business relating from Ring Wars -- you had to know Cheshire would respond to the Harlequins -- but apparently the Harlequins have a problem with young Nightwing as well. SR: They ain't the only ones -- that Nightwing's been irritating a lot of good folks here in the IIWF. [Prince's "Let's Go Crazy" begins} SR: Whose entrance music is that? [Joe Petrow, clad in purple trunks, appears in the aisle to a huge roar from his Sychopaths. Petrow flashes the triple M sign and says, "Right back at ya' Sharkie" as he dives into the ring.] SR: Of course. The nutball. TD: It's Joe Petrow -- and he's going right after Dirt Dog Unique Allah! [Unique and Annis are each trying to get the other over the top, while the three men in the middle continue their war -- although now moving at a considerably slower pace than at the beginning of the match, their respective offensives now consisting largely of punches, kicks and the occasional power slam. Petrow pulls Annis off Unique -- and Serge waves him through with a sick smile. Petrow and Unique go face to face... and then they meet Serge with a double drop kick that nearly sends Serge out over the top! Big Pop!] TD: Oh my, they've ganged up on Serge! Unique and Petrow are trying to get Serge out over the top rope! They're working together! SR: See, that's just wrong, Dross. A battle royal isn't supposed to bring people together -- it's supposed to tear them apart. It's all part of God's great plan. TD: What plan is that? SR: You know, hate your neighbor, cheat a friend -- eat a couple a' biscuits -- it's all there in my "L'il Soundbiter" manual. You know how to tie a slip knot, Dross? [Unique and Petrow continue to attack Serge, double teaming the big man. Watkins hits Kowalski with a fisherman's suplex -- and receives a spinning neckbreaker from Thunder -- who then takes a big boot to the midsection from Kowalski.... ..."The Great Southern Trendkill" by Pantera begins...] TD: It's the newcomer! Here is Derek Mota. SR: You know, I hear he's gonna change the IIWF -- that's good. I like it when a new guy says he's gonna change things. Who better than someone who just got here? [Mota hits the ring, moves to join the group on the ropes -- but is waylaid by Thunder. Big pop! Brody Thunder now goes to work on Mota, stomping him down and hitting back to back snap suplexes on the newcomer.] TD: I don't know the story between these two -- but Thunder is not wasting any time in introducing Derek Mota to the IIWF. [Kowalski puts Watkins to the mat with an armbar takedown... Mota is now on his feet and is slugging it out with Thunder... Dirt Dog and Petrow continue the double team, Petrow whipping Unique into a corner splash of Serge... Unique whipping Serge into a modified atomic drop by Petrow... who, instead of catching Serge's backside with his knee, allows him to fall clean to the mat. Big pop as Petrow gets in Serge's face and yells something to the affect of, "You just got ASSPUMPED, Annis." TD: Did Petrow call that move an "asspump"? SR: He must have learned that from Jordan Lee. TD: That's awfully inside, Steve Roberts. SR: You ain't kiddin', Dross. [...there is no music as Randy Acorn begins a sprint to the ring... tearing into Derek Mota... Thunder gives Acorn a couple of shots, allowing Mota to get back to his feet -- and then returns to the middle of the ring... where he is greeted with a big double boot by Kowalski and Thunder... Serge takes brief control of Petrow and Unique with a double "noggin knocker"; however, neither man seemed particualarly fazed as they reciprocated with a double head butt -- and then a double vertical suplex of Serge... getting set to finally toss him outside... instead throwing him into the middle of the ring!] TD: Uh-oh, Serge is like fresh meat for these jackals in the middle of the ring -- and he is just getting stomped into next week by these three. [Mota and Acorn continue a brawl in one corner, Petrow and Unique now moving over to attempt to throw either of them over the top rope... and Watkins has just clocked Annis with his forearm cast... ....Huge Pop as "Grave Digger" begins....] TD: Hello, America. Here comes the Deathbringer! [...Watkins, Thunder and Kowalski are all trying to get Serge over the top rope...Petrow and Unique are battling Acorn and Mota, who still manage to get in their own shots, as the 'Bringer hits the ring. Deathbringer grabs Petrow... Chokeslam. Big pop! Deathbringer grabs Mota... Chokeslam. Deathbringer then sees Annis and charges with a clothesline... and sends Serge over the top rope and out onto the floor. Big pop!] TD: Pretty good effort by Serge today -- but now his day is done, and look at Watkins, Thunder and Kowalski -- they are really going to work on Deathbringer! SR: Yeah! This is what the people want to see! Kick him like a dog, Kowalski. [Kowalski, Thunder and Watkins work Deathbringer over, trying to get him over the top rope. Unique battles with Acorn in one corner, while Petrow and Mota are now going at it nearby... ..."The Music for the Unknowingly Damned" is heard and Requiem begins his walk to the ring, accompanied by the mysterious albino woman.] TD: We're getting down to it, here comes the Requiem! SR: Who's that he's with? You know, we haven't seen Domination in a while -- did Monster have a sex change? TD: Will you stop? [Unique and Petrow whip their respective opponents into each other... Mota and Acorn hit hard... each stumbling back into the other's most recent opponent -- and each being side suplexed over the top rope and out onto the floor! Pop!] TD: Acorn and Mota are gone, Steve Roberts! Acorn and Mota are gone! [Petrow and Unique give a quick high five... and are then dropped by a big crossbody block by Requiem. Pop! Requiem then runs over to the ropes where Deathbringer is about to be thrown over... and he pulls Steve Kowalski off! Requiem throws Kowalski to the mat! Then he pulls Thunder away and tosses him to the mat! Requiem turns again... and is caught with a big forearm cast by Watkins to the forehead! Watkins moves to dump Requiem over... but is met with a hand to the throat by Deathbringer! Deathbringer holds Watkins high in the air... and Requiem dropkicks Mad Dog from the 'Bringer's hand over the top rope and out to the floor! Big Pop!] TD: Watkins is gone! Mad Dog Watkins is gone! [Kowalski charges the big men... and is hit with a double backdrop that sends him fitfully high into the air... and over the top rope and out onto the floor! Big Pop!] TD: Kowalski is gone. Steve Kowalski is gone! I will tell you what, Steve Roberts. These three men put on a heck of a performance tonight -- but now Thunder is the only one who's left! SR: Thanks to his good buddies Pale and Easy -- don't forget. TD: I don't think there's any sort of alliance between Brody Thunder and the High Plains Drifters, Steve Roberts. But then again... [Huge pop as "For Those About to Rock" kicks in over the P.A.] SR: Aw, hell. TD: It's CHRIS QUIGLEY! TD: Well, the view from that ring is about to change, Steve Roberts. Chris Quigley is gonna be a force to be reckoned with. SR: You want a force? Look at the guy coming down to the floor... it's Otto Verhoeven! [The Butcher has apparently been seated in the stands during the battle royal, and upon Quigley's entrance begins to move down to the front row, shoving away one of the young fans wearing an "Anyone... Anywhere... Anytime" t-shirt. Requiem and Deathbringer have been standing nose to nose since they eliminated Kowalski and Watkins... Petrow and Thunder are also nose to nose, Petrow very animated as he tries to get a reaction from the cool cowboy... Dirt Dog is crouched down in one corner -- having been shooed away by Petrow -- and not having any inkling to get in the mix with the big men. Everybody else has been eliminated. Save Quigley -- and the final two participants. Quigley takes his time getting into the ring... walking around its entire perimeter like a billiard player looking for the most precise geometric angle from which to attack. The crowd pops expectantly as Quigley, realising that the dead man is consumed with his stare of Requiem, goes to the top buckle and leaps with a Lightning Strike -- nailing the Deathbringer between the shoulder blades. Big Pop!] TD: That was big, Steve Roberts! Chris Quigley has announced his presence here tonight! SR: He can try all the... what did you call that hold, Dross? The funky wawa armbar? That won't help him tonight -- Chrissie's gotta fight. [It all then happens simultaneously. The force of Quigley's blow drives Deathbringer into Requiem and sends each man to... but not over... the ropes... Petrow and Thunder begin throwing furious blows at each other that leave the fans on that side of the ring leaping to their feet... Unique hops from the floor to a top buckle -- and again has a seat... ..."I Hate People" by the New Bomb Turks begins -- and Mr. Damage slowly makes his way to the ring.] TD: You want a dark horse, Steve Roberts? I mentioned it on "Inside the IIWF" -- this could be the man: Mr. Damage. This man was the sole survivor in that big elimination match at Ring Wars 3 -- he's undefeated here in 1997 -- he very well could be the man to come out of here tonight. SR: Are you gonna keep pushing that lame ass show of yours, Dross? What, you're showing movies now? What's next, Dross? Daily horoscopes? How 'bout soap opera updates? What trouble are the Spauldings getting themselves into in Springfield? TD: I happen to like "Fargo". SR: Well, I liked "Army of Darkness", but that doesn't mean I'm gonna start playing clips of it on Thursday Classics. [Quigley is all over both Requiem and Deathbringer, trying to get both men to fall over that top rope... Petrow and Thunder continue to go toe-to-toe, Thunder actually hitting Petrow with an over the top neckbreaker -- but Petrow leaps immediately to his feet and Sychokicks Thunder to the mat... Unique remains on the top buckle and Damage gives Petrow a shot to the back and then joins Quigley in an attempt to push Requiem and Deathbringer outside. Deathbringer fires back at Quigley, escaping the ropes and the two of them brawl into the middle of the ring, where Quigley is able to apply a snap suplex and then body scissor the big man to the mat... Damage has Requiem still precariously perched on the rope... Petrow and Thunder are throwing haymakers...] TD: One more. If you're keeping score you know who it is. [..."Cold Gin" kicks in over the P.A. and the fans pop like mad.} TD: It's the Party Maniac, Marty Warnett -- he drew Number 20! He's gonna be tough to beat. SR: Where's DeWinter? Hey, Marty, watch out for that belt! [Damage has Requiem almost out, peppering him with forearms as he almost has him gone... Deathbringer is completely tangled in the body scissors of Quigley... and Petrow smacks Thunder in the back of the head with an enzuigiri that can only lead observers to ask...] TD&SR: Petrow has an enzuigiri? [Warnett leaps to the same buckle from which Quigley came -- and crashes onto Quickstrike with a flying body press that frees the Deathbringer and leads to a big, big, pop from the crowd. Warnett pounds at Quigley with rapid right hands and Deathbringer runs toward Damage and Requiem -- and knocks both of them over the top rope and to the floor! Big POP! Requiem stares up from the floor at Deathbringer who has just eliminated him, pointing a finger at the Dead Man who seems momentarily entranced by the stare of Requiem... and taking advantage of this is Dirt Dog Unique Allah who leaps from the top rope with a hurricarana that snaps the 'Bringer over the top rope and out onto the floor! Big big pop!] TD: Unbelievable! Unbelievable! SR: They're all gone, Dross. Damage -- Requiem -- Deathbringer -- they are all gone... and we're down to five guys! TD: Did you see that hurricarana? Who would have thought that Dirt Dog would have eliminated the Deathbringer... and they are really going at it on the outside!! [Deathbringer and Requiem begin a wild brawl, spilling over the retaining barrier, right past Verhoeven and into the crowd! The two dead men fight on... well up into the stands until they are no longer visible. Warnett has whipped Quigley to the ropes -- and is now joined in trying to throw him over by Dirt Dog. Petrow finally sees that Quigley has entered and lets out a primal scream as he dives atop Warnett and Unique... quickly followed by Thunder... all four men trying to get Quigley over.] TD: These competitors know who the threat is -- they are uniting in trying to eliminate "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley. SR: I thought they just didn't like him, Dross. [The four men continue to push at Quigley - no one able to get him to go over... Thunder breaks through to the front of the pile and lands a series of sharp elbows to Quigley's jaw... Quigley drops quickly to the mat...] TD: HE JUST THREW THUNDER OVER! Chris Quigley just dumped Brody Thunder over the top rope! Brody Thunder is eliminated! [Shocked pop by the crowd as Quigley fights his way out of the corner, landing right hands to the heads of Petrow and Unique -- then whipping Warnett farside and greeting his return to the middle of the ring with a big dropkick that sends him crashing to the mat! Big Pop! Quigley attacks Warnett now, the two men toe to toe, failing to recognise that Unique and Petrow are coming up from each side... Unique grabs Quigley and Petrow grabs Warnett and together they throw each of them over the top rope!] TD: THEY'RE... THEY'RE STILL ON THE APRON! SR: Quigley and Warnett are still alive! [Quigley and Warnett both land on their feet -- and then simultaneously slingshot onto the men who just threw them over! Big pop! Warnett then motions to Quigley and the two of them springboard off the backropes and double dropkick Petrow and Unique to the mat! Big pop! Warnett and Quigley then clasp hands... clotheslining Unique -- and then Petrow back to the mat as the crowd roars its approval... then Quigley hits Warnett with a stunning jawbreaker and tosses him over the top rope and out to the floor! Big mixed pop!] TD: Oh my! Quigley and Warnett, despite all of their past differences, were working together -- but Chris Quigley saw an advantage and took it... and we are down to three men! We are down to three men! SR: That's what I'm talking about -- you see the true colors of a man like Chris Quigley. He'd cut your heart out for a chance to win that IIWF Championship -- and don't let anybody ever tell you different. [Unique then advances on Quigley -- whips him into Petrow... who executes a Bullet Train from Hell, driving Quigley hard into the mat... Unique leaps to the top rope as Quigley lies prone... and flies down with a headbutt that has Quigley flat out in the ring. Pop!] TD: It's two on one! It's two on one! Chris Quigley is out on the mat! [Unique and Petrow high five and then each turns his back on the other, Unique gives his version of the triple M sign and Petrow yells out, "I'm a crazee muh-fuh!" Then, simultaneously each man balls up his fist... and turns around... and Petrow and Unique strike each other with big right hands! Big pop!] TD: There it is! This alliance has broken down! These guys are gonna go at it! [Unique and Petrow stare at each other for a split second... another silent understanding seeming to pass through them... each man grabs the other by the back of the head... and again run toward the ropes...] TD: Oh no! They're doing it again! They're doing it again! They're gonna eliminate each other with the double flying plancha bulldog! Chris Quigley's gonna win this thing! SR: Bring out the Bulldog Brown table -- we're doing it all over again! [Petrow and Dirt Dog get set to leap... but Petrow grabs the ropes as they fly over... remaining perched over the apron as Unique flies to the outside...] TD: HE'S... HE'S CAUGHT! HE'S CAUGHT AGAIN BY SHADOE RAGE! DIRT DOG IS ALIVE! [An enormous roar as Dirt Dog desperately tries to keep from falling to the floor... Petrow scrambles to the top rope, his back turned toward the floor.. and leaps toward Rage...] TD: THAT'S AN ASAI MOONSAULT! SR: He stole my move, Dross! He's stealing my move! [Petrow's asai moonsault crashes through Shadoe Rage -- knocking Allah to the floor -- Big pop! Dirt Dog is gone!] TD: Joe Petrow is out! Joe Petrow is out! Ring the bell, Chris Quigley is the winner of the Go For The Gold Battle Royal!! SR: No he's not, Dross! No he is not! TD: Oh my... SR: Joe Petrow is standing on Dirt Dog Unique Allah! Joe Petrow has not been eliminated! [Like a thought balloon over the head of a cartoon character, everyone in the IIWF Coliseum seems to recognise together the situation... Joe Petrow is on the floor. But his feet are on Dirt Dog Unique Allah. Petrow measures himself and leaps... ...and can't make it to the apron...one leg falling to the floor...but one leg remaining up in the air!] TD: Unbelievable... Petrow's hopping on one foot... Petrow's hopping around the ring... the Prophets of Rage are diving at him! [The official is on the ground -- looking at Petrow's feet -- waiting to signify that the second foot has fallen to the floor. Petrow grits his teeth and hops... having to keep moving around the ring to avoid the dives of all of the Rages -- who now are trying to knock him off his... foot. Dirt Dog is now up... and stands between Petrow and the ring... there's no way out for Petrow... he can't get to the ring...] TD: PETROW GRABS A CHAIR... HE WAFFLES DIRT DOG WITH A CHAIR... AND LEAPS... SR: HE DID IT, DROSS. HE'S BACK ON THE APRON! [Cataclysmic pop as Petrow finally makes his way back into the ring. And finds himself face to face... with Quickstrike Chris Quigley.] TD: This has been a war. An absolute war. Right here on free TV -- right here on IIWF Saturday Night! And Chris Quigley and Joe Petrow are about to get it on to decide the winner of this battle royal. It is unbelievable! [Petrow nods -- and drops to the mat... asking Quigley for a lockup... Quigley hesitates...] TD: It's just like with Dan Kauffman! Joe Petrow is looking for a lockup with Chris Quigley! [Quigley moves to lockup.... and Petrow hits him with a forearm thrust to the groin... then rolls him up into a small package... Petrow smacks his hand on the mat and the Sychopaths shout out... "One!" Petrow releases the hold, leaps up and shoots a middle finger in Quigley's face... and takes a hard chop the the throat for his trouble. Quigley leaps to his feet -- hops over Petrow's back and brings him Down with a side Russian leg sweep. Quigley hops to the midbuckle... and comes crashing down with an elbow to Petrow's forehead. Quigley drives a quick knee to Petrow's groin...] TD: Quickstriker! Quickstriker! [Quigley has Petrow in a flash quickstriker, yells out... "One" and releases the hold! Big pop! Petrow kips up and the two men begin a wild brawl that carries them from the middle of the ring all the way into the corner. Quigley rams Petrow's head into the buckle and then hops up to the mid buckle and starts raining blows down to Petrow's forehead... Petrow now climbs up as well -- the two men working their ways to the top buckle...] TD: They're fighting on the top! They're fighting on the top! [Petrow hooks Quigley... Quigley blocks... the two men pivot together... and superplex out to the floor! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: It's over! It is all over! SR: Who won, Dross? Who won this damn thing? TD: I think it's a draw! Yes, yes, I think it is a draw! [Petrow and Quigley remain on the floor, each man's chest heaving as Sparkplug Lee confers with the official and moves back into the ring] SL: Ladies and Gentlemen...the winner of your "Go For The Gold" Battle Royal... [Quigley and Petrow each slowly stand up, the referee positioning himself between them.] SL: ..."SYCHOSYS" JOE PETROW! [The crowd explodes in applause as the legion of Sychopaths have to be held back by security from rushing the ring. The "Pe - trow! Pe - trow! Pe - trow!" cheers ring out and Sychosys goes to the top buckle to make a huge Triple M sign -- which is reciprocated by the Sychopaths. Quigley gives the official a shove and shakes his head at the display -- looking up at Petrow as he makes his way back up the aisle. Quigley stands now at the top of the aisle and puts his hands on his hips in disgust -- before turning and exiting.] TD: Well, a truly breathtaking scene here on IIWF Saturday Night -- Joe Petrow is not only not retiring -- he is your winner of the "Go For the Gold" Battle Royal and he will run that gauntlet. SR: Yeah -- I'm no big fan of Crazy Joe Petrow's -- but there's nothing in life I like much more than watching Kick-Me get his. TD: And, as we see Joe Petrow make his way to the back, we know we are way over time here on IIWF Saturday Night -- but believe it or not we have secured the extra television time -- and we got a title fight on our hands! But now I understand we have Larry Morton backstage with the Subway Psycho. Larry? [Cut to backstage. Larry Morton stands in a corridor outside the locker rooms. The Subway Psycho charges into the frame.] LM: Psycho... Psycho... Could I have a word with you? SP: [Still fuming. He's pacing around the interview area, not looking at Larry or into the camera.] That's only a small part of the payback! I'm not through with you yet, Claw! I no longer care about titles or glory or anything any more. The one unwavering thought that runs through my mind day and night, in my dreams and in my all my actions, is how much pain I can inflict on your sorry ass. From this point on I am a machine... I will not stop... I cannot be reasoned with or... [Mistress Sasha enters, interrupting the Psycho] MS: Stop! Listen to yourself! You're obsessed! LM: Whoa... it's Sas... SP: [cutting him off] Go home, Sasha. This has nothing to do with you. I don't want you coming down here. MS: Yeah, I'll go, but not home. I'm not going to sit around like a good girl and watch you throw away your life week after week. You had a real opportunity to accomplish something here tonight. But you're blinded by rage and revenge. Can't you see? That's what the Syndicate wants. When you're not focused on winning, they've won. LM: She's right, Psycho. [Psycho begins to glare at Larry] You were out of control tonight. MS: Larry, do yourself a favour, and shut up. [She grabs the microphone and faces the Psycho now, standing close and looking him straight in the eye.] When you found me, I was a victim... a scared little girl. I've realised that I continued to play the part of the victim since then. I've been the innocent and you've been my hero, my knight, coming to the rescue time and time again. I can't play that part anymore, I wont play that part anymore. That's why it saddens me to see you playing the victim. [Psycho shakes his head and looks away. Sasha reaches out and turns his chin back to her. A tear rolls down her cheek.] Don't let them do this to you. Don't let their mind games destroy you. Don't be a victim. I must go now... to take charge of my life, to accomplish something on my own. Please pull yourself together... I hate to see you like this. [Sasha backs away slowly, looking deep into the eyes of the Psycho. Psycho turns slowly away, as if to remain unaffected. Sasha hands the microphone back to Larry and exits.] LM: Uh... well, Subway, what do you make of Sasha's comments? [Larry holds the microphone up to Psycho, his hand shaking.] SP: [softly, after a long pause] Well, she can do what she wants, right? I guess she has some things she has to do. I don't know. All I know is I know what I have to do. That's it... end of interview. [The Psycho slinks out of the frame. Larry watches him leave. Cut back to the announcers' table at ringside.] TD: Well, it looks as if the Subway Psycho has his own personal demons to battle in the weeks to come, as well as Tiger Claw and the Syndicate... Hang on, I'm being told that we have to cut back to Larry, who's made an alarming discovery. Larry? [Cut to backstage. A handheld camera is following Larry Morton through the corridors of the deepest recesses of the IIWF Coliseum. The hum of the flurorescent lights can be heard, as well as the echoing footsteps of Morton and the cameraman. A commotion can be heard up ahead, and Larry turns a corner to see a very disturbing sight: the camera looks over Larry's shoulder, and tied spread-eagled on the floor to stakes is Assistant DA Brenda Hawkings. A demonic pentagram has been drawn on the ground beneath her in red, and above her head are scrawled the words, "Death to all PIGS!" Various officials are struggling to free her from her bonds and remove her gag. Tears are streaming down her face as her wide, panic-stricken eyes tell the tale of her terror.] LM: Oh my goodness... TD: [over the headset] This is appalling! [Larry turns to face the camera, blocking its view of the disturbing scene behind him.] LM: Folks, we can only imagine what horrors Brenda Hawkings has been forced to endure here tonight. If this is the Dark Disciples' idea of revenge after Pain Inc. took the IIWF World Tag Team Championship title from them earlier tonight, then Kane and Wulf should be suspended from the IIWF with immediate effect. I have never seen such a brutal and terrifying attack on a woman in my life. [Larry is suddenly pushed aside by the arrival of Night Patrol on the scene. Keene and Blazer rush to the assistance of their manager, yelling profanities and screaming blue murder to the Dark Disciples. Mr. Mic and Pain Inc. quickly follow, and Mr. Mic pushes the camera away from the scene. Cut back to the ringside announcers' table.] TD: I don't know what to say, fans. On behalf of the IIWF, I'd like to apologise for any offense or distress caused to our viewers by that last scene. The IIWF in no way condones arcane and esoteric practices such as the one to which you have just been subjected. SR: Quit making such a fuss, Dross. Hawkings is a tough babe -- it'll take more than that to scare her away from the IIWF. Team Brutality have taken the Disciples' belts, but apparently that isn't enough. You know they'll be planning their revenge after this. TD: I'm hearing over my earpiece that Asst. DA Hawkings is shaken but otherwise unhurt. We'll try and get some comments from a Team Brutality spokesman before we go off the air tonight. Right now, however, we've got to get back up to the ring for tonight's main event. The IIWF World Heavyweight Champion, Casey James, faces possibly his toughest challenge to date, as he goes head to head with the rookie sensation, Creed -- a man who has never been pinned here in the IIWF. We've already seen two titles change hands here tonight -- will we see a third? Let's get up to the ring for the introductions. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- IIWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Casey "Blackheart" James [c] vs. Creed ------------------------------------------ WRITER: DS [Sparkplug Lee steps into the glare of the spotlight once more and raises his microphone as the fans cheer expectantly.] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is for the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship! [Big pop!] Introducing first, the challenger: hailing from Oakland, California, and weighing in at 276lbs, here is... Creed! [Huge pop as the lights in the arena drop to almost complete darkness. Dry ice begins to drift out from behind the entrance curtain and into the deep crimson glow of the red spotlight which illuminates the head of the aisle. The crowd falls hushed as the deep, sonorous tones of Creed's voice boom out the words: "Anyone... Anywhere... Anytime...", with the same words flashing in large red letters on the darkened video wall in time with Creed's intonation. There is a moment of silence, and then the euphoric and uplifting chorus that is Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" kicks into life. The crowd gives a huge ovation as the red-gloved rookie steps out into the rising mist in the red spotlight, his glistening skin apparently giving off light itself, and the bandage above his right eye, covering the 37 stitches sustained in his match with Mad Dog Watkins at Ring Wars III, also seems to glow with the red beams. He fingers his gloved left fist with his bare right hand, looking dead ahead at the ring, his intense eyes boring into the squared circle. He stands still, motionless, for a few moments, before walking slowly to the ring.] TD: Look at this man, Steve Roberts. We've talked a lot about this young athlete in the months since his arrival in the IIWF in December last year, and he's never failed to impress us each and every time he steps into the ring. His entire career has been building up to the moment at which he lifts the World Heavyweight Championship, making good on the promise he made to his mother when he was orphaned at the age of eight. SR: Dross, stop building the guy up. Sure, he's put in some great performances since his debut, but the way you're talking, you make it sound like Creed's got some divine right to take the title from Casey James here tonight. The fact is, he's just one man, and one man going up against the Syndicate can be disastrous -- just look at what happened to Nightwing earlier tonight. TD: But can't you feel it, Steve Roberts? Can't you feel this crowd willing Creed on to victory? SR: Nope. Who cares what these morons think anyway? Except for the "L'il Soundbiters", of course. TD: Fans, I understand we have a camera back in the Syndicate's dressing room. Let's get some last-minute comments from the Champion. [Cut to a split screen. On the right, Creed continues on his way to the ring. On the left, Casey James and Brian Lau are seen standing in their locker room as Creed's music can be heard in the background. Casey seems angry.] BL: It's not been a good night for the Syndicate, but it's about to get a whole lot worse for Creed. CJ: Creed, I heard your comments on Friday, and I'm not pleased. You know, kid, that you might be one of the few here that I wouldn't mind losing this title to, but ya piss me off. You see, you might have beat up twelve guys one Saturday night. But did you beat me up? The champ? No, you didn't. You put the "Goodnight... Farewell... Amen" on Byron, but did you put it on me? The champ? No. You may have been able to chokeslam Warnett, but did you chokeslam me? The _champ_? _HELL_, No! And sure thing, boy, you powerbombed Watkins off an outfield fence. But did you do that to me? No. BL: You see, this man is no lightweight. He's been here since this league opened its doors. Creed, do you honestly think you can beat Casey James? CJ: Who, me? The champ? One word, Creed: _No!_ [Cut back to a normal shot. Creed makes his way down to the ring and steps into the squared circle as a second chorus of the "Ode to Joy" blares out and another bank of red spotlights above the ring illuminate the canvas. Creed climbs to the second turnbuckle in one corner of the ring and extends his gloved fist out to his fans, who respond in kind and begin chanting: "Creed! Creed! Creed!"] RA: And introducing his opponent: accompanied to the ring by Brian Lau, Tiger Claw and the "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder, hailing from Washington, DC, and weighing in at 340lbs, here is the IIWF World Heavyweight Champion... Casey "Blackheart" James! [Huge heel pop as the lights rise and a bank of lights spin to cast their beams at the head of the aisle as the opening riff of Pro-Pain's "Foul Taste Of Freedom" kicks in over the PA system. The Syndicate entourage appear at the head of the aisle, one by one: first comes Tiger Claw, who swats away the hands of fans who try to touch him; then comes Brody Thunder, his hat pulled down over his face, his skin glistening with the moisture of a pre-match shower; next is Brian Lau, who steps out into the aisle in his customary suit, his face a picture of confidence; and finally comes the IIWF World Heavyweight Champion, his face stubbled and set in a smug, self-assured grin. He pats the gleaming gold belt around his waist, and then raises his arms to the skies, eliciting another wave of "boo"s from the capacity crowd. Laughing and shaking his head, Casey makes his way down the aisle, badmouthing the fans as he goes. The rest of the Syndicate take up station around the ring as Casey climbs the ringsteps and flexes his muscles in Creed's direction.] TD: And there's the man that Creed has to beat. There's the man whose shoulders Creed must pin to the canvas for the count of three. It's one man versus the combined might of the Syndicate here -- Creed's going to need eyes in the back of his head tonight. [Casey James steps into the ring and unfastens the World title belt, handing it to the official, who then holds it aloft to a big pop. Creed never takes his gaze off the champion, who nonchalantly performs a few stretches in the corner while receiving a few last-minute tactical instructions from Brian Lau. The referee signals for the bell. Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: Look at the intensity on the faces of these two competitors as they square up to one another in the centre of the ring. Creed is giving up two inches in height and some sixty pounds in weight to the Champion here, but he has the edge in agility and speed. This should be a tremendous encounter. [Casey and Creed meet in the centre of the ring in a staredown. Neither man seems willing to take a step either forwards or backwards as the two athletes stare at each other almost unblinkingly, as if each is testing the resolve of the other man. After a few more tense moments, it is Casey James who makes the first move, muttering something at Creed with a smirk on his face, and shoving the rookie. Creed takes a step backward, and then shoves right back, knocking Casey back a pace or two. James charges at the challenger, who deftly sidesteps the charge, and locks in a hammerlock as he steps behind the champion. Casey reaches behind himself with his free arm, trying to grab hold of Creed, but the rookie keeps out of James' reach. Casey twists out of the hammerlock, and wrings Creed's arm himself before pulling him in quickly with a short-arm clothesline, knocking Creed to the mat. Big pop!] TD: Creed's a big athlete, but a clothesline from a 340lbs man is going to put you down to the mat, no matter how big you are. SR: What a masterful piece of observation, Dross. [Casey attempts to drop an elbow on Creed, but the rookie rolls out of the way and both men are quickly back to his feet. The two athletes circle one another, and then lock up collar and elbow. Casey slips Creed into a side headlock, and the rookie forces himself into the ropes. The referee calls for the break, which Casey eventually gives, and steps back, his hands raised as if to show his sportsmanship. However, Casey nails Creed with a slap as he backs away, but the challenger simply rolls with the blow and approaches the champion once more, apparently now even more focused on the task at hand, as if the slap were a wake-up call.] TD: Casey's attempts to rile up this youngster haven't exactly been successful thus far, Steve Roberts. SR: It's only a matter of time, Dross. We all saw what kind of a temper Creed has at Ring Wars III. [The two athletes lock up in centre ring again. This time, it is Creed who slips Casey into a side headlock, and the champion pushes Creed away and into the ropes. The rookie ducks a clothesline on the return, and then the two men collide in the middle of the canvas with a shoulderblock, the momentum of Creed seemingly cancelled out by Casey's size. The two men's gazes meet once more, and Creed bounces off the ropes once more, again hitting Casey hard with a shoulderblock. The champion still stands firm, as if challenging Creed to take him off his feet. Creed runs against the ropes a third time, this time launching himself through the air with a flying shoulder barge, and this time James is taken off his feet by the blow! Casey hits the mat, and rolls to the outside immediately, beating his fist on the ring apron in frustration. Creed stands in the ring and receives a big pop from the crowd.] TD: If you want to talk about short tempers, Steve, then look no further than Casey James. This man has a very short fuse, and he's liable to explode at a moment's notice. [Creed approaches the ropes, and finds his legs taken out from under him by James, who drags him to the outside, and a slugfest between the two men breaks out on the arena floor. The crowd start to rally behind Creed as he blocks a right hand shot from James and fires back with one of his own, staggering the champion, but Creed is apparently unaware of Brody Thunder sneaking up behind him. The yells of the ringside fans alert the rookie to the presence of the "Lone Wolf", and Creed wheels around. Thunder immediately raises his hands and begins to back off, Creed stalking after him, but now it is the turn of Casey James to attack from behind, and the champion labels Creed hard with a steel chair, sending him to the floor like a sack of potatoes. The referee leaps from the ring and warns Casey James, snatching the chair away from him. James argues with the official, while Thunder and Tiger Claw put the boots to Creed on the arena floor. Huge heel pop!] TD: Here's a perfect example of the kind of tactics Creed has to guard against in this match. One man simply doesn't have enough eyes to keep track on all the predators roaming around outside the ring when the Syndicate are in town. SR: Yeah! Kick a new hole in him, Thunder! TD: You're disgusting, Steve. [The referee finally turns around just as Thunder and Claw back away from the downed Creed, and eyes the Syndicate members suspiciously. James drags Creed to his feet and proceeds to ram his head into the steel ring steps with a sickening clang. The champion rolls Creed back into the ring, and follows himself, pausing on the ring apron to flex for the crowd, who respond with a huge heel pop. Casey follows Creed into the ring, and lays a series of kicks into the rookie's rib and kidney area as he tries to get back to his feet. Casey drops an elbow on Creed's exposed midsection, and then drags him to his feet. Whipping him into the ropes, Casey hits a well-executed powerslam on Creed, driving him down to the canvas. He makes the cover, nonchalantly neglecting to hook Creed's legs - 1 - 2 - kickout!] TD: There's a lot more fight in Creed than that. You can't expect to put this young athlete down for the three count if you don't even hook the leg. SR: Casey could finish this any time he wants, Dross. He's just toying with Creed, showing him who's boss. [Brian Lau applauds on the outside as Casey locks Creed in a reverse chin lock and begins clawing at the bandage above Creed's right eye. The referee warns Casey, who replies to the official with a string of profanities.] TD: Earl Alfonso is quite right to stop Casey from interfering with Creed's bandage. Creed sustained a very nasty cut in his match with Mad Dog Watkins at Ring Wars III, and he doesn't need it reopened here tonight. [Creed's face is contorted into a grimace as Casey James cinches more pressure in on the chinlock. Creed reaches out towards the ropes, but finds he is at least a foot adrift. The crowd starts to get behind the young athlete, the "Creed! Creed!" chant picking up momentum as the fans will Creed to break free of the hold. Sure enough, the red-gloved athlete forces himself to one knee, and then to both knees. Casey releases the chinlock and drives a knee into Creed's back, knocking him back to the canvas, going straight back to the chinlock.] TD: This is good strategy by the champion. If he can cut off Creed's air supply, then he can weaken the challenger very quickly -- hey, get Brian Lau down from there! SR: Why, Dross? He's just getting a better look at that chinlock. We wouldn't want Casey to be choking Creed out now, would we? [Brian Lau has climbed to the ring apron and attracts the attention of the referee, who immediately moves to force the manager back to the arena floor. Meanwhile, Casey is successful in removing Creed's bandage, exposing the thirty-seven stitches in the cut above his right eye. Casey wastes no time in raining down punches on the wounded area, trying his best to reopen the cut. The referee finally forces Lau back down to the arena floor, and turns to see Casey working on the cut. He warns the champion and lays the count on him - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - Casey finally releases Creed, and backs off as the referee berates him. Creed, meanwhile, drags himself to his knees using the ropes, giving Tiger Claw the perfect opportunity to nail Creed across the temple with the World Heavyweight Championship belt. Huge heel pop! Creed slumps backwards to the mat, and Casey pushes past the official to make the cover. Alfonso makes the count - 1 - 2 - Creed gets his foot on the bottom rope! Huge pop!] TD: Incredible! I thought for sure that Creed would be out cold after that blow with the belt, but the rookie is still in this match! [Casey argues with the official about the count, and then drags Creed to his feet, placing his head between his legs, setting him up for a jacknife powerbomb. Casey applies the gutwrench, and hauls Creed up over his head, but the rookie wriggles, and slips out of Casey's grip, landing behind him. Casey wheels around, and is met by a barrage of hard left hands from Creed. Huge pop from the crowd! Creed nails Casey with a particularly vicious left hand which staggers the champion, and then hits the big man with an impressive belly-to-belly suplex, taking him down to the canvas! Creed makes the cover and hooks the leg - 1 - 2 - Casey kicks out! The move seems to take something out of both men, and Creed is only a little quicker to his feet than the champion. Creed again attempts to land a few hard left hand shots on the big man, but Casey blocks, and nails Creed in the lower abdomen with a hard shot. Casey sets Creed up for a suplex, but Creed raises his leg as Casey tries to lift him, blocking the attempt, and instead pulls Casey down into a small package! The referee makes the count - 1 - 2 - Casey kicks out!] TD: Wow! Out of nowhere, Creed nearly takes the World title in the blink of an eye! SR: It'll take more than a small package to take that belt from Casey James, Dross. [Casey is quickly back to his feet, frustrated at Creed's reversal, and drags the rookie back to a vertical base, whipping him into the ropes and attempting to set him up for a spinebuster on the rebound. However, Creed counters with a Thesz press, sending Casey crashing to the mat himself! Again, Creed makes the cover - 1 - 2 - kickout! James beats the mat in frustration, and gets to his feet, stomping away at Creed's midsection. The rookie rolls out of the way and grabs the ropes, forcing the referee to step in and keep Casey at bay. Creed pulls himself to his feet and tries to shake the cobwebs away as Casey moves in again. Creed immediately ducks down, driving his shoulder into the champion's midsection, before grabbing his legs and pulling him down to the mat with a double leg takedown. Creed keeps hold of one of Casey's legs, and wishbones it viciously, stretching the hamstring and pulling the groin muscles. Casey yells out in pain as Creed grapevines his right leg, beating the mat with his hands.] TD: I think we're finally seeing Creed's gameplan come out here, Steve. He's countering every power move Casey throws at him, and as soon as the opportunity presented itself, he's taken the match down to the mat, where he can work over a single body part. [Brian Lau is quickly back up onto the ring apron, yelling to the official, who approaches the manager and orders him back down to the arena floor. Tiger Claw yet again uses the distraction to enter the ring and deliver a kick to the back of Creed's head, breaking the hold. Tiger Claw rolls back out of the ring again, while Casey drags himself to his feet using the ropes, clutching at his sore leg. Lau finally gets down from the apron of his own accord, and the referee turns back to the action to see Casey dragging Creed back to his feet once more. Casey tries to whip Creed into the ropes, but the rookie reverses, and as Casey comes back off the ropes, he is taken to the mat by a drop toe hold, allowing Creed to go back to work on the right leg: dropping elbows across the hamstring; yanking it; laying it across the bottom rope and dropping his full weight on the knee. Creed drags Casey to the corner of the ring, and rolls out under the bottom rope, pulling his legs around the ring post. Creed grabs some cable from the arena floor, and begins wrapping it around Casey's feet, tying him in place. The referee leaves the ring and tries to unravel Casey while Creed grabs a chair, intending to shatter the champion's knee. However, just as Creed swings the chair back, it is grabbed by Thunder, who snatches it away from the rookie and blasts him across the back with the steel. Creed goes down on one knee, and the referee forces Thunder away while Tiger Claw frees Casey.] TD: This is chaos out here! The official simply can't control all the external factors in this match. SR: That's the beauty of the Syndicate, Dross -- strength in numbers. Creed should have brought some backup. [Having freed the champion's legs, Claw rolls Creed back into the ring, and the official quickly follows. Casey drags himself to his feet, and Creed also fights back to a vertical base. Casey attempts to whip Creed into the ropes, but the rookie reverses, and sends the champion for the ride -- catching him on the rebound and hitting him with a tremendous spinning spinebuster! Huge pop!] TD: That move could end it right there! Creed's got to make the cover! [Creed hooks both Casey's legs as tightly as he can. The referee drops into position and makes the count - 1 - 2 -- and Alfonso is pulled from the ring by Brody Thunder! The referee signals for the bell as Claw and Thunder charge the ring, besieging the exhausted Creed. Huge heel pop!] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, as the result of a disqualification: Creed! [The announcement is almost drowned by the roars of the crowd as the Syndicate continues to beat on Creed.] TD: No! Don't let it end this way! Creed had Casey James beaten! We were less than one second away from a new champion -- and the Syndicate pull this stunt! SR: That's why they've got that championship, Dross! Lau watched one title slip from the Syndicate's grasp tonight. There was no way in the world he was going to let Creed take their last remaining piece of gold. [The bell rings again as Thunder, Claw, and the recovering champion all lay their boots into Creed, who lies prone on the mat, trying to fight to his feet, but every attempt stopped in its tracks. Ding! Ding! Ding! The crowd is on its feet, jeering the Syndicate. Suddenly, however, there is a huge pop as the Subway Psycho streaks down the aisle, rolling into the ring under the bottom rope and immediately going to work on Tiger Claw, knocking him from the ring with a huge haymaker. The crowd go nuts as the Psycho clotheslines Thunder out of the ring, and then dropkicks Casey over the top rope! Huge pop!] TD: The Subway Psycho has cleaned house out here! The Psycho has come to the aid of Creed! [Brian Lau regroups his men on the outside, while the Psycho tries to help Creed to his feet. However, the red-gloved rookie, still groggy from the multiple attacks of the Syndicate hordes, swings wildly at the Psycho, hitting him with a hard left fist. The Psycho, surprised by Creed's attack, gets in the exhausted athlete's face, drawing him to his full height and shouting him down. Creed, apparently frustrated at the turn of events, kicks the Psycho in the midsection and applies a gutwrench on the Psycho -- before powerbombing him to the mat! Huge confused pop!] TD: Creed just powerbombed the Subway Psycho! SR: He's taking out his frustrations on the Stinker, Dross. And who can blame him? If that smelly has-been got in the ring with me, I'd send him packing too. [Creed leaves the Psycho winded on the mat, and fingers his left glove as he looks down from the ring on the huddled Syndicate. The rookie pauses a moment longer, fixing his cold, hard glare on Casey James, before leaving the ring and heading slowly up the aisle. Like a gang of wolves, Thunder, Casey James and Tiger Claw leap back into the ring and continue beating on the Subway Psycho, the crowd roaring in their disapproval. As Creed heads back to the locker room, he looks up to see the carnage in the ring on the video wall, but he merely pauses, not even turning back to take a look for himself. Creed walks on, and disappears out of the arena to the locker room area.] SR: Creed's turned his back on the Stinker! I love it, Dross! TD: I don't know quite what to make of it, Steve... Creed has left the Psycho in a whole world of trouble here. There's no denying that we should have seen a new IIWF World Champion crowned here tonight, and I can only assume that Creed is in no mood to help out an ally -- but the Psycho came out here to help him! SR: This is great! The Psycho's getting a hole kicked in him yet again! TD: Here comes the cavalry! [The crowd erupts as Nightwing, still bloody and battered from the exertions of the night's action, flies out into the aisle and down to the ring, closely followed by a security team and the Jobber Justice Squad. Together, the combined forces manage to clear the ring and stand guard over the injured Psycho.] TD: Nightwing's out here again! SR: That kid has a death wish, Dross. TD: Fans, we're right out of time here tonight from the IIWF Coliseum. What a night it's been -- two title changes, Joe Petrow winning the right to run the Gauntlet, starting right here next week, and Creed is robbed of the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship! There's more great action coming your way over the next seven days, and don't forget to call the IIWF Hotline tomorrow night for the latest update on this volatile situation. Until then, for "Soundbite" Steve Roberts, and the rest of the broadcasting team here, this is Tim Dross, saying: so long, everybody! [Security help the Subway Psycho to his feet in the ring as the Syndicate back away up the aisle, Tiger Claw shouting abuse at his nemesis as he goes. 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+