[Open with footage subtitled, "Wednesday Night". Night Patrol stun the capacity crown by performing the Police Brutality on their Team Brutality teammate Morningstar, then help the Zodiac Connection run Pain Inc. back to the locker room. Cut to Keene and Blazer, accompanied by their manager, Brenda Hawkings, facing the camera.] DK: Tim Dross, I know you're watching, you were right about Pain Inc. and Mr. Mic. Why, during our U.S. Title match, all they said to us that week was, "Please, officers... Brenda, let's just have a coin toss so your officers don't hurt my boys. You can have the titles if you win... we just want to get out alive." [Cut to later in the Night Patrol interview.] DK: In short, fans, we said we were here to establish a little law and a little order here in the IIWF. And we're gonna make good on that promise to you the, fans! [huge face pop!] JB: You see, we lost sight of what was good... Cops sometimes bend the rules, like all people, but that doesn't make it alright. To all the rulebreakers in the IIWF, take my advice... [The crowd responds with the end of Sgt. Blazer's catch line:] CROWD: AND DON'T SHOW UP! [Cut to a montage of IIWF action accompanied by hard rock music. The final chord lingers as Requiem suplexes El Super Gecko. Suddenly, the screen explodes into a mass of fire and smoke, through which emerges the IIWF's familiar logo:] ##### ###### ### ########## ########## ########## #### ## ########## ########## ########## #### # #### ######## ##### ##### #### ## ##### #### #### #### #### ### #### #### #### #### ############# ######### #### #### ########### ######### #### #### #### #### #### ######### ######### ### #### #### ######### ######### ### ## #### ######## ######## ## # #### =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ## =-=-=-= INTERNATIONAL INTERNET WRESTLING FEDERATION ================================================= "COUNTDOWN TO SATURDAY NIGHT" - April 11, 1997 ================================================= [Cut to the IIWF Studio. The remote camera zooms down the aisle as members of the studio audience scramble to get on camera. A teenage girl with severe acne proudly displays her "Steve Summer Fan Club" t-shirt. An older man waves a poster which reads: "It's Friday Night, Do You Know Where Chris Quigley Is?" And a familiar 200-pound woman in fishnet stockings excitedly waves her new homemade poster which reads, "Hey Derek... I've Got MOTA Love!" The camera zooms toward Larry Morton and Becky LaRue sitting at the broadcast desk.] LM: Hello again everyone and welcome once again to "Countdown to Saturday Night." I'm Larry Morton alongside my broadcast colleague Becky LaRue, and what a show we have for you tonight! BL: What the hell is that smell? LM: Huh? I don't know what you're talking about. BL: It's either you... or that fat broad in the audience has been wallowing in something. [she sniffs at Larry] Oh jeez, you're wearing that "Sparkplug" after shave! LM: Sparky gave me a free trial size. BL: You ought to be PUT on trial for wearing that crap! [fanning the air around her] For a moment, I thought we had an in-studio interview with the Subway Psycho. LM: Well just tolerate it. We have a lot to cover tonight, beginning with the shocking turn by Night Patrol on Pain Inc. Wednesday night. We heard at the top of the show that Night Patrol has had a change of heart and now wants to police the IIWF with law and order. Any word on why the sudden change of heart, Becky? BL: I understand Brenda wasn't very happy with the support her team was getting from Mr. Mic and Pain Inc. When you're dealing with egos like the ones Morningstar and Hellraiser have, it's hard to know that you're not as good as your Team Brutality teammates. LM: What?! Like them or not, Pain Inc. _are_ the IIWF World Tag Team Champions. And Brenda Hawkings and Night Patrol must have been very coy about their plans. Even earlier this week at a press conference/party, Team Brutality seemed to be on good terms: [SCENE: Cut to footage subtitled "Monday Night". Tim Dross and the IIWF camera crew are seen heading up in an elevator. Dross looks nervous as he and the crew go through a final check before entering a lavish New York City hotel suite.] TD: You guys ready? CAMERA MAN: Yup. Hey Tim you know Mr.Mic is gonna be all over you about winning the titles don't you? [Tim looks at the floors light up above the elevator doors as he lets out a sigh and murmurs something about "no kidding". The elevator doors open as a huge figure stands in the doorway wearing a tuxedo. Dross and the crew take a step back but soon realize that it's Mr.Mic's bodyguard Hades.] HADES: Oh, Mr.Dross [he rubs his hands together] Mr.Mic has been waiting for you. Please follow me. [Hades leads the crew down a corridor towards a set of double doors. Hades opens both doors to expose a huge suite in the midst of a party. The entire Team Brutality entourage is there. Brenda Hawkings and Night Patrol are being interviewed by Sports Illustrated. Mr.Mic, in his Armani tuxedo, is being interviewed by George Michael's Sports Machine. Behind him are Pain Inc. Both men are in their karate gi's. Morningstar wearing a black gi with his title belt around his waist. Hellraiser is wearing his red gi with his belt over his left shoulder. Mr.Mic spots Dross and the crew and signals for the music to stop. The room becomes quiet as Team Brutality moves towards a podium that Hades has set up. The party guests, who range from Brad Pitt to golfing phenom Tiger Woods, assemble themselves in front of the podium. Mr.Mic speaks.] MM: Well... for months now the IIWF thought Pain Inc. was a flash in the pan, a gimmick that had no substance. [Mr.Mic smirks to the crowd] I don't think so. You want proof? [Pain Inc. walk over to flank Mr.Mic and hold their belts in front of themselves] HERE'S YOUR PROOF! [Huge cheer from the crowd] Now I'm sure the great Tim Dross has some questions? [Tim Dross signals for the camera crew to move in and Tim moves to the front of the crowd.] TD: Yes, first of all and I can't believe I'm saying this but congratulations to Pain Inc. and yourself Mr.Mic. MM: That's right Dross, congrats to Pain Inc. and myself. Who hold the gold now? Not the Disciples. Not the Drifters. Not the star-gazers but Team Brutality. You don't like it? I don't care! TD: Ah yes, but it seems that you have a couple of new forces against you? MM: You mean Tiger Claw and Brody Thunder? TD: Exactly! MM: Well Dross, first of all, the Syndicate as a whole is pathetic. You've got the FORMER world chumps the Dark Disciples, you've got a has-been in Tiger Claw, a steroid-monkey in Thunder and a "I need my friends to help me keep my title" World Champ in James. Lau and McQueen together couldn't manage a little league team. If Claw and Thunder wanna stick their noses in our business then they'll get them bitten off! [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: So Mr. Mic was prepared to go to war with the Syndicate, but now finds himself short three key members of Team Brutality. You know, I've got to wonder if Brian Lau had something to do with this. BL: Lau is the master of self-preservation. It wouldn't surprise me. But it looks like the Syndicate is safe and Mr. Mic has to turn his attention to other matters. As you can imagine, he wasn't too happy about the turn of events Wednesday night: [SCENE: Cut to Mr.Mic standing in the IIWF interview area. He is pacing back and forth while Hades is speaking on a cellular phone. Pain Inc. is behind Mr.Mic standing up with their arms crossed. The IIWF tag-team titles strapped around their waists. Mr.Mic turns to the camera.] MM: It seems that jealousy has gotten the best of our former friends the Pig Patrol! It seems the Beavis and Butt-head of the Houston Police force couldn't handle us being the better team! We let them pin Morningstar so they could move on in the US tag team tourney which, to their credit, they won. But wouldn't ya know they couldn't hold titles if they had handles. Pig Patrol, you and your little lawyer bimbo can wait at the back of the line. Pain Inc. rules the tag teams in the IIWF, and if I can borrow a line from a friend of mine, that's the bottom line because Mr.Mic said so! As for the Zodiac Connection, you two morons can get bent. Pain Inc. defends against the top teams in the IIWF not the Zodiac Connection. As for calling us pathetic, lemme see... we've held the titles for almost a week that's one week longer than you two losers! [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Mr. Mic with some harsh words for his former colleagues and other tag teams. BL: Speaking of harsh, did that little geek Sparkplug tell you that the _real_ secret ingredient in his after shave is corrosive battery acid? LM: As Steve Roberts would say... go git me some biscuits, woman! BL: Would you settle for a neck brace after I snap your stinking little spine? LM: Ahem... well, Wednesday's War Room was another hot show, so let's just run down all the results for those of you who may have missed them: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ IIWF WEDNESDAY WAR ROOM RESULTS April 9, 1997 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHESHIRE def. MAURICE McARTHUR HIGHWAYMAN def. JUMPIN' JACK BRODY THUNDER def. BOBBY B. GOODE DARK DISCIPLES def. THE ROTUNDOS ZODIAC CONNECTION def. THE BARNACLE BROTHERS THE HANGMEN def. G.W.R. W & W EXPRESS def. COLD SPELL NIGHTWING def. TIGER CLAW DRAW: DEREK MOTA vs. THE HANGMAN LM: And what action we saw! The emotionally-disturbed Native American known only as Nightwing confronted Cheshire, apparently in a desire to have the clown end his life. BL: I wish Cheshire woulda put that little Injun out of our misery. LM: Cheshire seems to have some problems of his own right now. But more on that in a minute. Mad Dog Watkins and Brody Thunder continued to eye each other and you have to feel that something is going to give between those two. BL: I enjoyed watching Harlequin Comedy nearly toasting Icehawk of Cold Spell. A fireball at the face... that's what I call a hot date. You go, girl! LM: Icehawk was clearly not amused and that little attack cost Cold Spell a possible win. BL: More like _im_possible. By the way, did Dirt Dog Unique Allah ever get any of Medusa's ill na na? LM: I don't know what an ill na na is... and I don't think I want to know. I spoke earlier of Cheshire's apparent problems outside the ring. He was confronted Wednesday night by three men, one of whom was his father. We sent Steve Summer to Cheshire's home to see if he could learn any more about this odd situation: [SCENE: Steve Summer stands in front of an apartment door with the name "Herforth" written on the doorbell. He looks a little bit nervous and hesitates to press the button.] CAMERA MAN: Go on Steve. [He snickers, and the view shakes for a moment] He's not going to bite your head off, is he? SS: Ha, it's all right for you to laugh, Ramon. You're safe behind your camera. I have to get near that guy to at least an arm's length! Why always me? CAMERA MAN: Do whatever you want, Steve, but _do_ it. I don't fancy standing... SS: Okay, okay. [He sighs and presses the bell-button. The loud neigh of a horse can be heard from inside, and Steve gives a short expressionless glance into the camera. Then the door opens slowly, and the head of a man in his sixties with shoulder-length, grey hair appears, Werner Herforth, Cheshire's father.] WH: Ja? SS: Mister Herforth? My name is Steve Summer and I am here to interview your son. May we come in? WH: [turns his head and shouts] Chris! CH: [from somewhere inside the apartment] Wer ist denn da? SS: [shouts] Steve Summer, Sir. The IIWF and the fans want to know what's up with that incident on Wednesday. CH: I neither have the time nor the patience to talk to you, Stevie. Do me a favour and get lost. [Steve shrugs his shoulders and turns to leave.] CAMERA MAN: [shouts] Please Mister Cheshire. It will just take a few minutes. SS: [in a low voice] Are you nuts?! Shut up! CH: Well, okay. But only five minutes! SS: [still in a low voice] I'll get you for that, Ramon. Believe me, I'll get you. [Again the camera shakes a little. The man slowly opens the door and Steve enters. The large apartment/gym looks surprisingly neat and tidy. Steve hesitantly approaches Cheshire, who is sitting in his colourful armchair. He's wearing a garish green track suit and absently strokes his cat, which is sitting on the armrest. He points to a sofa, and Steve sits down. Cheshire's father walks over to the kitchen corner.] CH: [with a dragging voice] So what do you want. You've four and a half minutes. SS: Well, first of all we'd like to know: who is Liebrecht Kaiser? [Cheshire's father turns around as Steve speaks out Kaiser's name.] CH: Liebrecht Kaiser is a German manager who's big in the entertainment business. Back in the 1970's his father Karl was a clown in my father's circus. My father caught him with his fingers in the till, and reported him to the police. To make the story short, Karl started to drink and eventually wrapped his car around a tree. Liebrecht made big money and sent one of his lackeys to buy my father's circus. A financial crisis forced my father to sell, and immediately regretted it, when he heard who bought his beloved circus. Now Kaiser claims the copyrights on Cheshire the Clown and his character likeness. I know it sounds weird but that's exactly what he did and it seems that he'll get through with it. SS: That's terrible. So what will you do about it? CH: That's the problem. [his voice becomes louder] I cannot do anything but wait for the court's decision. Maybe I can convince Doctor Hinterhalt and my sponsors to buy the name, but I doubt that Kaiser will give way. SS: By the way, I haven't seen Doctor Hinterhalt for a while. Where is he? CH: [again with a dragging voice] After that Nightwing affair, he needed some vacation, so he took a trip to Russia. Moscow, Leningrad, Stalingrad and so on. SS: Oh, [smiling] but he won't have much fun in Stalingrad, will he? CH: Who is Willie? SS: Huh? Er, forget it. What do you think Nightwing's gesture on Wednesday meant? CH: I haven't the slightest idea. Maybe it was an offer of marriage the Cherokian way, I don't know. But I have more serious problems at the moment than a confused Cherokee. You got twenty-eight seconds left, Steve. Use them to leave, please. SS: One last question. CH: Twenty-two seconds. SS: Hmpf. Okay Ramon, let's go. [he stands up] Goodbye, Cheshire. Mister Herforth. [He nods towards Cheshire's father who nods back with a brief smile. He opens the door of the apartment and closes it behind himself. A few seconds pass.] CAMERA MAN: Uuuhm.... Steve? [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Wow, Cheshire... if I can still call him that, could actually lose the rights to his name. BL: Maybe Otto Verhoeven could talk to this Liebrecht guy. It's a wussy name, so Otto could scare the bejesus out of him. LM: I don't think it works that way, Becky. BL: Jeez, you stink. Can't you take a shower and wash off that "Stinkbug" after shave? LM: In case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a show. Fans, we'll continue to update you on this situation involving Cheshire. Right now, it's time for us to take a look ahead to the exciting card coming up tomorrow night on "IIWF Saturday Night." ************************************************************************** --------------------- IIWF SATURDAY NIGHT PREVIEW ---------------------- ************************************************************************** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * TOWEL MATCH: RONNIE PARIS [w/Maggie Collins] vs. LUKE STEELE [w/Spur] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Ronnie Paris and Luke Steele clearly have a score to settle that dates back to earlier this year. BL: Back when Steele really screwed over Widdle Wonnie. LM: I think he was honestly trying to _assist_ Ronnie, but the harder Steele tried to help, the worse things got. Unfortunately, this has broken down into a bitter rivalry that will hopefully be resolved tomorrow night. BL: And two interesting choices for their corner people. LM: Indeed. Paris has selected the love of his life, Maggie Collins. BL: Isn't that the name of Highwayman's horse? LM: No! BL: That's right... it's Gunther. LM: It is not! But it _will_ be interesting to see how long Maggie will watch her betrothed take punishment in the ring before throwing in the towel. BL: Pssst... hey Mags, I hear Widdle Wonnie wears "Sparkplug" cologne. Run while you can! LM: Steele, on the other hand, surprised many people by choosing the enigmatic Spur to be in his corner tomorrow night. Spur has no love for either of these men, but he has displayed an almost sadistic infatuation with Ronnie Paris: [Spur stands besides a life-size promotional cardboard cutout of Ronnie Paris. He dabs at the photo's eyes with a towel. He mutters comforting words in baby-talk.] SPUR: Is Widdle Wonnie gonna cry? Is that why he needs a towelly? Spur gonna make it all better. I've got the towel, Steele's gonna make you cry, all you need to do is provide the tears, Ronnie. [The camera cuts away as Spur begins to sing a Rod Stewart favorite:] "Wake up Maggie I think I've got something to say to you..." [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * NON-TITLE GAUNTLET MATCH: JOE PETROW vs. THE WHITE PHOENIX ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Last Saturday, Joe Petrow won what was perhaps the biggest match of his career -- the "Go for the Gold" battle royal. His reward? The chance to possibly take on the IIWF's three singles champions in successive weeks and then possibly vie for a belt of his own. BL: What are the odds of that happening? It would be like a script if he were able to pull that off. LM: I wouldn't put it beneath Joe Petrow to have some "assistance" waiting to make sure he gets three consecutive wins. After all, these "Sychopaths" seem willing to go to any lengths to help their hero. BL: They "syrtainly" do. By the way, have I mentioned that your "pscent" really "psucks"? LM: Sigh. You're impossible. Let's just hear from Joe Petrow: [Cut to a silent, all black screen. Suddenly, a bright light appears in the center. As it grows and grows, the distinct form of fire can be made out. The fire grows to the entire size of the screen. Then the screen goes completely white, and a bloodcurdling scream is heard: HHAAAAAAIIIIIIIIHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! Cut back to a close-up of a more controlled flame. The camera pulls back to show a campfire scene. A motley group of about a half-dozen guys, all shirtless with similar blue-jeans. The barefoot man wearing the IIWF Gauntlet in the center of the group is "Sychosys" Joe Petrow.] JP: Saturday night, April 12th, the beginning of the gauntlet, the beginning of the respect that we deserve to have. But I haven't been thinking about the White Phoenix lately, and that's a problem. So I got some of the real hardcore Sychopaths together, and we got this little retreat going. Given all that's happened lately, it seemed like a little male BONDING [smacks the chest of the guy next to him] was in order! [Some comments from the group..."Yeah"..."That's right, man"...etc...] This isn't just for me. We all came here with a purpose. We all came here to face one part of our lives we didn't really want to, and come to terms with. To get over it. Like a MAN! ["Yeah!"..."You're the man, Joe!"...etc...] All the guys...even big Leon over there [camera points to the man whom the fans remember as the man who took the missile dropkick from Unique Allah at Ring Wars 3]...they all did it. You don't have to know what they did, that's between us men, but I'm damned proud of them! Now it's my turn, and I'm doing this in front of everyone to send the message! I...[holds his hand to the scars on his face]...I don't like the fire very much. I don't know what role that's gonna play Saturday night against the White Phoenix. But I know I can't afford to let any man have any kind of psychological advantage on me in that ring. There's just too much at stake. So for me... [Joe points over to his left. The camera pans, and shows two men putting the finishing touches on a ten foot long section of glowing earth. Petrow gets up and walks over to that area, and stands on one side of the path, looking towards the other side, now all alone] The fire...on the other side of this walk of fire is you, Chow. I gotta get there. I gotta... [Joe freezes up, staring at the glowing embers below him. He starts to shake, and takes a step back.] LEONNNN!!!!! [The man Joe Calls Leon scrambles up and heads towards Petrow. He gets right in his face, and smacks him hard! Leon heads back to the campfire leaving Petrow to himself. Petrow takes huge breaths. His eyes are as wide as Kowalski's waistline, and his hands are clinched so hard that they shake. Suddenly, Petrow steps forward! One, two, three steps across the fiery path, only sheer will protecting his bare feet. Petrow's expression never changes, as he continues to walk. Suddenly he stops, realizing he's already three steps past the end! Cut to an angle that simultaneously shows Petrow collecting himself, and the Sychopaths in the background, letting out a whoop and opening up their cans of Mooselips beer. Petrow clinches his gauntlet covered fist and holds it up to his chin, the shining "IIWF" studs clearly visible. He speaks in a voice that is almost a whispering growl:] Shinja Chow... you've already lost. But bring everything you've got on Saturday night, because you'll be feeding the fire... over which you'll be roasting. [In the background, the Sychopaths each take a big swig of their beer, and then spit it out in disgust. Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Joe Petrow appears ready to run the Gauntlet, but we'll hear from his first opponent, Shinja Chow, in a live interview in a few moments. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * NON-TITLE MATCH: THE HIGH PLAINS DRIFTERS vs. THE HARLEQUINS ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: The Harlequins are just six days removed from their title-winning victory over Night Patrol, and they should get an early test from the former World Champs, The High Plains Drifters. BL: I think it's a smart move by the Harlequins not to put the belts on the line tomorrow night. Already this year, the Zodiac Connection and Night Patrol have lost titles in their first defense. I think the first match as a champion is always the most difficult. But that's nothing compared to having to tolerate the stench coming from Larry's person right now. LM: I found it interesting that you seem to be on good terms with the Harlequins. You never cease to amaze me. BL: And YOU never cease to repulse me, Larry. I wrestled in a league with Trav.... uh, I mean Tragedy back in Indy. And I also interviewed the new champs this week: [SCENE: Becky LaRue in a hallway at the IIWF Towers. The Harlequins can be seen walking down the hall. Comedy and Tragedy are arm in arm. Chaos is carrying two duffle bags.] BL: I'll show Morton he's not the only one to talk to these guys. Hey, Tragedy, Comedy! HC: Beckster! How's it going? BL: Uh, okay. Look I wanted to be the first person to interview the new champs and... HM: What about Night Patrol? Aren't you in league with them? HCh: Yeah, who do you take us for? HC: You ain't trying to pull something are ya? BL: What?! HCh: Yeah! This could be a setup! HM: A sting! [Tragedy raises his hand and the others are silenced.] HT: You were saying, Ms. LaRue. BL: Ms. LaRue? When did you get so formal, Travis? HT: About the same time you remembered that you knew me. Now what do you have to say? HM: [whispering] They know each other? BL: Well, first of all how does it feel being champions without the titles? HT: You mean without belts. We have the titles of US Tag Champs. The belts are merely symbols. We, however, are the substance. BL: Okay, fair enough. Now about that crack I heard you make to Chaos in the locker room last week. HCh: You were the one listening in? BL: Yeah, you gonna make something of it? HCh: [cowering] Uh, no... HC: Becky, Becky, Becky. You know perfectly well that Trag doesn't like to use all that PC crap! He was stating the plain and simple truth! Without me, he'd be alone, and without Mel... HM: There's not enough Prozac to keep Chaos in line! Now how do you two... BL: You always did have a mouth on you "Tragedy". [turns to Comedy] Oh, by the way. I loved what you did to that moron Icehawk! HC: HAHAHAHA! You're not the only one. Did you see the look on his face?! BL: Couldn't -- it was melting off! HC: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! BL: Snort... Oh man... well, one more question. You're facing the High Plains Drifters again. Any thoughts on what's going to happen? HT: Becky, I just want everyone to know that the REAL Harlequins are back. And no one is safe. [The four walk away. Chaos then turns around to face Becky.] HCh: By the way, have you seen our dad? BL: No. HCh: [sigh] I'll find him later. Bye! BL: Bye, uh... wait! He's here? [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: I had no idea you knew the Harlequins before now. BL: How do you think I knew about the "lost Harlequin" brother Gunther they keep locked in the root cellar? LM: Aha, you're kidding me now. BL: Maybe. Maybe not. LM: The High Plains Drifters don't seem to care about this not being a title match because they seem to have no respect for those belts. BL: It works out well then, because they have no respect for their opponents, either: [SCENE: Josey Wales' Arizona ranch. The High Plains Drifters sit in the living room, drinking whiskey. Josey Wales enters and leans against the mantel.] JW: Hey boys... who you wrestling tomorrow? ER: Uh... I donna know, boss. PR: It's the U.S. Tag Team Champs isn't it? I could really care less "who" they are. I know what they are... second rate, wanna be, imitation champions. JW: Ha! Spoken like a true Drifter! [Wales motions to the two gold belts on the mantel.] You people see these? These belts are made from the Golden Grapple Awards Pale and Easy won not too long ago. They were voted BEST tag team... BEST. They've also held the real IIWF World Tag Titles two times. The High Plains Drifters are the BEST... and that's never going to change. That's why I wanted this match with however those other guys are. Pale and Easy are here to prove that they are the most unstoppable tag team and the U.S. Tag Titles are a joke. When Pale and Easy win tomorrow night, y'all can keep yer damn belts... they ain't worth the spit it takes to polish 'em. [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * CHRIS QUIGLEY vs. DIRT DOG UNIQUE ALLAH ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: What an odd pairing this match should create. BL: It's very clear. Allah is the dirty little doggie and Quigley is the fireplug. When they get together... LM: I _think_ I know where you're headed. You may be no fan of Chris Quigley's, but he is ready to take no prisoners after last week's battle royal. Many observers feel he actually won that match and should be the one running the Gauntlet instead of Joe Petrow. BL: Shoulda... coulda... woulda. But he ain't! Squiggley has a title shot at the Birthday thingey... LM: That's _Birthday Bash_! BL: Yeah, whatever. So why is he so peeved about not winning the battle royal? LM: Because Chris Quigley is a true competitor: [SCENE: The camera shot pans down over a hockey rink where two teams battle it out on the ice in front of a crowd of about 42 or 43 people. In a smaller press box higher in the rafters of the arena sits an intense Chris Quigley, watching a local team fight to tie the game with just 10 seconds remaining. Despite their efforts, the puck slides out of the offensive zone and down the ice, as the buzzer sounds to end the game. Quigley slams his hands against the desk in front of him and curses. Quigley opens the door to the press box and quickly goes down the stairs, realizing he agreed to meet Steve Summer down near the entrance 5 minutes ago. He turns a corner and spots Summer, finishing off a hot dog, as mustard drips down his shirt. Summer looks at the stain in dismay, before Quigley snaps him out of it by shouting his name.] CQ: [snaps his fingers] Summer! Over here! [The young broadcaster looks up quickly and looks a little relieved. He runs over to where Quigley has sat himself down and takes a seat beside him.] SS: Hey Quickstrike! I was getting a little worried. Thought you forgot about this interview, since it _is_ for a weekly report. [Quigley looks a little annoyed] CQ: What's that supposed to mean? SS: Well, you don't usually... CQ: [cuts him off] But I am now. So why don't you just do your job? SS: [coughs] Sorry. Too bad the Royals went down tonight, eh? [Quigley forces a smile and looks over the ice surface, watching the zamboni water it down as he answers...] CQ: Yeah well, nothing new there. They're rebuilding. Although I don't think that's a good excuse. They have no heart. No desire. I have a hard time sitting back and watching them just give games away. It's times like this I realize I'm a player, not a spectator. This may be interpreted any way you want to, but I always have the feeling that, no matter what it is, if I was out there I could be a huge help. Of course then teammates could let you down. Wrestling is such a great sport for someone like me, where I can depend on myself to get things done. I've been a singles champion and I've been a tag team champion, and there is _no_ comparison. I've got no problem with any tag team that enjoys what they're doing and are good at it, but it's really not my thing. In singles wrestling, I have control over whatever happens. Or at least that's what I used to think, until lately. Last Saturday's joke with myself and Joe Petrow was one thing. Not only was it a bad call at the end when I superplexed him off the top down to the concrete, where he hit the ground _before_ me. But it was also a total joke at how the referee allowed all those guys down at ringside diving at Petrow while he was hopping on one foot. Because of all those idiots out there in my way, I couldn't get anywhere near Petrow to knock him down with a kick or anything like that. SS: Yeah well, there are definitely some people who agree with you on this one, but like you said before, it doesn't matter much. The shot is yours at Birthday Bash regardless. CQ: That's true. I'm guessing Casey James will still have the title at that time. He got beat up by Creed, who's just a kid, and barely escaped with his title. If you ask me, James is losing his focus as champion. That's not gonna be good for him at the Bash. SS: So what about this Saturday night? You're facing the Dirt Dog Unique Allah. This man is totally unpredictable, reckless, and dangerous. CQ: Nobody's unpredictable, Summer. I can predict that he'll be reckless and dangerous, so right away I've proved my point. I'm not an idiot. I'm not gonna go out there and throw him outside and get into a chair swinging match with him. I'm going to take the scientific approach. I can't give away my whole strategy here, Summer, but let me just say, Allah's going to need a dozen boy scouts to untangle him from the knot I'm gonna tie him in. SS: [smiles] Can I ask how the ankle is? [Quigley looks down at his ankle, the bandage around it making a noticeable bulge under his sock.] CQ: It's not that bad. I didn't have much of a problem with it during the battle royal, and nobody in there was smart enough to target it, so that wasn't a factor at all. I can walk without much of a limp now, and it'll definitely be 100% before Birthday Bash. That's the main thing. SS: Speaking of Birthday Bash, what about Casey James' claims that you're so consumed in your mind with being the best, that it's going to be your destruction. CQ: [sighs] Oh please. I'll say one thing: to beat an opponent physically, you have to first beat him mentally. Despite what they might like to believe, neither Deathbringer, Dan Kauffman, Marty Warnett, Casey James', or _anyone_ has come close to beating me mentally. I think I'm better than Casey James because I've seen what he can do, and I know what I can do. SS: Direct and to the point. I like that! You tossed out a few names there, all of which have said something or other about you lately. Now's as good a time as any to respond. CQ: [thinks for a minute] Let's see... Marty Warnett thinks I'm a whiner and a crybaby? I think he may be thinking about someone else, because I've got no memory or whining or crying about anything. I guess getting thrown through that Barber Shop window affected his mind more than he thought... no wait... now _I'm_ thinking of someone else. Sorry about that. Serge Annis thinks I get special treatment from the officials of the IIWF. I think last Saturday Night proved that, if anything, the exact opposite is true, so there's not much else to say there. As for Dan Kauffman... he hasn't said anything derogatory against me. He turned down my gesture to dedicate a match to him, but that's fine. I was re-thinking that statement anyway. Why dedicate my own victory to someone else? When you start worrying about other people, you start to lose your edge. That's happened to me a few times during my career, but I always snap out of it just in time it seems. The fact of the matter is, Dirt Dog Unique Allah is a damn good wrestler, but I'm intent on doing something Joe Petrow could not do, and that's beat this guy fair and square in the middle of the ring. Then, once that's done, I've got Casey James! And let me make myself perfectly clear James... you may think you've got me all figured out, but the only thing about me that's out in the open is my desire to kick your ass all over that ring. That's all you know about me, and that's all you ever will know about me. Case closed. [Quigley slaps Summer on the shoulder before getting up and hopping the boards, landing on the freshly cleaned ice with amazing balance. He skids over to the bench and grabs a stick and a puck, and begins taking hard shots against the boards, as Summer watches for a few moments before gathering his things and walking out the exit as the shot fades. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * REQUIEM vs. NIGHTWING ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Mystery and suspense will also surround this match tomorrow night. BL: Yeah, Eddie Van Halen meets Tonto. Great booking, guys! LM: Requiem has certainly had his hands full last week with Deathbringer and we've already heard that those two will meet in a very unique match at Birthday Bash. Nightwing, however, has been on a path of self-destruction since his tribe turned its back on him at Ring Wars III. BL: And those of us who have to watch this match will be the "knowingly damned." Hehehe... snort! So who do we hear from first, Yanni or Chief Squatting Dog? LM: You _could_ show these men some respect. Let's hear first from Requiem: [SCENE: The Sanctum Sanctorum of Requiem, the Cathedral Of Souls. The ebon night of the vast cavern is pierced by a million glittering points of light, the soul candles flickering brightly in the inky darkness of the subterranean chamber. The centre of the cavern, where the light of the candles should be brightest, is instead the darkest, for upon a plinth rests the night black guitar of Requiem, seemingly absorbing the light into it's dark hued body. Before the plinth sits Requiem, his long legs folded beneath him, his usual black garments exchanged for a simple white robe. He sits still as a statue, his eyes closed and deep in meditation. A young woman, seemingly of 18-20 years and surpassing beauty, dressed in a simple black gown, stands beside him. The long black hair streaked with white, as well as pale blue eyes and an albino complexion, show a remarkable similarity to Requiem. She turns to look directly into the camera, and then speaks. Her voice has the hint of a strange, unidentifiable, accent.] WOMAN: I am Gabrielle, sister of the man known to you as Requiem. For many years I have sought him out, for he vanished from our family under... mysterious... circumstances. And now at last I have found him, here in this 'professional wrestling' organization called the 'IIWF'. I do not know why he should take such an interest here when there are far greater challenges about in the world, but my brother has ever had a strange wisdom about him, and so I shall not question him in this. For now. As you can see, my brother meditates. He contemplates the great Light that illuminates all of creation, and in so doing exposes the mysteries of the pasts that were, and the futures that may yet come to be. He remains locked deep within the mysteries, and so I speak for him. Come the Saturday, my brother shall face in single combat a man whose people, it is said, have rejected him. A man who, seemingly uncaring of his own well being, chose to beard the monster in its lair. A brave act, albeit a foolish one. Nightwing, my brother knows well the agony of rejection, for he has long been an outcast amongst our people. And in that knowledge comes understanding. Nightwing, my brother always fights with honour, even when it is unwise to do so. If you too fight honourably you have nothing to fear. Win or lose, the Darkness Of The Soul will not claim you. However, heed well this warning - should it come to pass that you fight without honour, you will come to know why my brother is known to some as the Angel Of Destruction. But now we must inevitably come to a matter that occupies my brother's every waking thought. The matter of Deathbringer, a man claiming to be... more than a man. A man from "The Dark Side", who dwells in darkest shadows and communes with creatures that dwell in crypts and dungeons of stygian darkness. A man the nature of whose soul my brother cannot clearly divine. At Ring Wars III my brother was defeated - narrowly mark you - by Deathbringer. This was no shame to my brother, but the mystery of Deathbringer's soul remained. It was my brother's choice - despite my counsel - to test this Deathbringer once more, at this strange "Going for the Gold", by seeing if Deathbringer would take the hand of friendship. He did not. Though it is true that he did not bite it. Until both Deathbringer & my brother were eliminated from this... chaos, that is. And then my brother & Deathbringer fought again, though it was not Requiem who first raised a hand in anger. My brother has judged Deathbringer, and has found him wanting. My brother shall ... REQUIEM: Enough. I have seen enough. You have said enough, sister. Now I shall speak for myself. [Requiem stands. The lights seem to brighten as Requiem retrieves his guitar from the plinth, and begins to idly play. The Music Of The Unknowingly Damned once more echoes throughout the catacombs and chambers of the Cathedral] I have travelled far, the Light guiding me throughout the untold and myriad passageways of mind, spirit and time. Deathbringer, you claim darkness as though it were a friend. I claim The Darkness Of The Soul as my most mortal foe. As I travelled I learned much, and one fact was revealed unto me: There can be only one Master of Darkness. Deathbringer, at Birthday Bash we shall meet in a match the likes of which the IIWF has never seen before, nor will again I'll wager. The rules are simple, and have been made well known to all. But not the prize. The prize has not yet been declared. If the president of the IIWF is willing, I shall tell you that prize. Deathbringer, I lay down this challenge: Let the winner of this match be revealed to all as the one true Master Of Darkness. Only one can be the Master - let it be the winner of this match, for in so doing the victor will have proven his mastery once and for all. One other thing was made clear to me as I explored the futures that may be, and it is this: There are those amongst the fans of the IIWF who have heard The Music Of The Unknowingly Damned, and have truly heard the beauty within its siren song. Their souls sing out to me whenever I face an opponent within that squared circle, and as I look out amidst the crowds the light of those souls near blinds me in its radiance. I have been remiss in not acknowledging them, a failure I am glad to correct. Deathbringer... How can you hope to defeat the Angel Of Destruction when Requiem AND the souls of The Choir play The Music Of The Unknowingly Damned in total harmony? [Requiem plays on as the shot fades, The Music Of The Unknowingly Damned rising in intensity as the screen is enveloped in darkness. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Requiem may be known to many as the Angel of Destruction, but that seems to intrigue Nightwing more than frighten him. BL: Anyone who is stupid enough to charge into the Syndicate's locker room alone is screwed up in the head anyway. LM: I think Nightwing proved Wednesday night when he entered the ring with Cheshire that he has nothing left to lose except his life. I'm afraid that seems to be his intention: [SCENE: The gurgling of a mountain brook can be heard as the shot opens on the base of a tall cliff. The camera follows the rocky cliff hundreds of feet to the top and focuses on a small waterfall that feeds the brook. Nightwing's voice is heard over the rushing water.] NW: Just as the liquid of life pours from this mountain, so does the essence of life pour from my body. The very will to live has been wrestled from my grasp... from my very soul. Highwayman, your words do not fall on deaf ears, but I must go forth to meet my destiny. Farewell, my friend. [An eagle cries in the distance. The camera pans to catch one of the majestic birds gliding past the pine trees which grow on the edge of the mountain.] It has been nearly three weeks since my people turned their backs on me. Now, it has been more than a week since the spirits last spoke to me. "Chi nu bokota di kataka"... "one will come to ease your suffering", they said. Understand that there is no honor in manokota - what you call suicide - among the Cherokee. But to die at the hands of a fellow warrior is a badge of honor among my people... what was once my people. [Again the eagle cries in the distance.] Syndicate... I felt you were the ones with the power to take that pain from me, but you did not display the strength of spirit necessary to complete the task. Cheshire, Wednesday night I also sought to learn if you were the chosen one. I apologize for putting you in that position. Last night, a solitary figure walked through the fog of my dreams and stood watching me... seemingly waiting for me. I called out to the figure, but it did not move. As I moved toward the figure, the body disappeared and left only a face floating in the mist. A brilliant light shone upon this face and I shielded my eyes... but it was difficult to look away. Before the light vanished, I recognized the face of... Requiem! Chi nu bokota di katotaka... "one will come to ease your suffering". Tomorrow night, Requiem, I come prepared. [A faint eagle's cry is heard off in the distance as the babbling brook again dominates the audio. Slow fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * IKE SAMPSON vs. DUNCAN MACBETH ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Two newcomers will tangle tomorrow night in what should be a great matchup. BL: You know neither of these guys wants to lose this early in their IIWF careers. Both were pretty impressive in their debuts last week, but I have to root for Sampson because I can understand him. LM: Sampson is a good looking young wrestler who desperately wants to escape his brother's shadow. Based on his debut, I'd say he's well on his way to doing that: [SCENE: Last Saturday night. The camera pans across a nearly empty arena. The only people seen are the ring crew, busy taking down the ring after another successful IIWF event. It continues to pan, until it reaches the upper deck. Seated in the very last row, way up in the rafters, is Ike Sampson. The camera zooms in on the muscular heavyweight, as he leans forward in his seat, with his chin resting in his hands. He is dressed in jeans and a BIG DOG t-shirt, with an IIWF hat on.] IKE: Way up here in the Sting seats, huh?! I don't think I'll repel down, though. I'll probably take the stairs. So this is it. The big time. Sure looks a lot different way up here. Not a bad night's worth of action. A great battle royal, filled with lots of tough competitors. I feel a little let down, though, that I wasn't invited, but I guess I've got to work my way up the ladder. I can deal with that. So who's the first rung on the ladder? Duncan MacBeth. Let me say that there's never been a man in a skirt that I couldn't whip his ass. I ain't braggin', it's just the truth. I've been trying to remember-- maybe Billy Shakespeare could help me -- how that play MacBeth ends. I think at the very end, MacBeth has had his head chopped off, and it's being paraded around on a pole. Now, I ain't planning on decapitating ol' Dinky MacBean, but I am gonna leave him in a world of hurt. Guaranteed. So you remember this, MacBean, come next Saturday night. Remember three things: I am the Definition... I am the Truth... and I am the Man. Bottom Line. Outta my way, MacBean, and let the Big Dog eat! [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: The man knows his Shakespeare, but he should also remember that MacBeth did a lot of damage before falling at the end of that play. BL: There's a _play_ about him? LM: Does the name Shakespeare ring a bell? BL: Only when Brody Thunder slams Lil' Willie's head into the ring bell. LM: I thought as much. Let's check in with Duncan Macbeth to see how he's preparing for tomorrow's matchup: [SCENE: The small town of Glenfinnan, Scotland is being battered by a heavy rainstorm rolling in from the Hebridean Sea, and flashes of lightning are illuminating the black waters of Loch Shiel as the IIWF mobile camera crew makes its way up a long, narrow dirt road to the Macbeth lands. The van stops in front of a large stone house with an even larger barn in the back, and the crew gets out to search for Duncan Macbeth, in the hope that the IIWF newcomer has some comments on his upcoming match with Ike Sampson. The producer lifts the heavy iron knocker on the massive oak door of the house and drops it once, twice, three times, with no answer. Undaunted, the crew makes its way through the driving downpour, venturing behind the house to the old barn, and pushes open one of the barn doors. Inside, instead of farm equipment or animal stalls, we see all the trappings of a modern training facility - a workout area with both weightlifting and gymnastics equipment, a practice ring in the far corner, and a video setup with several monitors, at which Duncan Macbeth is sitting, reviewing footage of Sampson in action and taking notes. The young Scot is wrapped in a red tartan blanket and is sipping Talisker from a small tumbler as he glances up from his studies and notices the camera crew.] DM: Well, well...I was wonderin' when Spreadbury would start sendin' 'is gnats t' pester me! I suppose ye'd be wantin' me t' tell ye all about how I'm goin' t' whip Ike Sampson this Saturday, wha'! Too bad, laddies, righ' now tha' fer me t' ken, an' Ike Sampson t' find out!!! An' Sampson, if ye're watchin' this, mark me words, lad - find out, ye WILL!!! [Macbeth sets down the tumbler, throws the blanket over his shoulder, and walks over to the camera crew, gesturing to the equipment all around him with a sweep of his arm. All the while, his piercing green gaze remains fixed on the camera.] Take a look around ye. lads. Me cousin Andrew an' I were goin' t' tear this ol' barn down, but instead we turned it into a first-class training ground. 'Ere we can escape th' distractions o' th' city, an' train an' prepare in peace. Many a successful title run was begun right 'ere, an' 'ere's where I'm goin' t' start me run at th' IIWF titles! Casey James, Laird Byron, I'm watchin' yis, wee men, an' I'm preparin' meself fer th' day I take those straps from yis an' make 'em me own, but I'm nae fool, either! I've important business already at hand in th' form o' one Ike Sampson, an' I'm nae stupid enough t' be lookin' past 'im t' me next opponent! Sampson, it seems ye're th' only one tha' cares tha' ye've got a famous brother, 'cause I fer one could nae give a stuff! Me cousin Andrew was one o' th' most feared an' renowned men in all o' wrestlin', but Duncan Macbeth has forged 'is OWN path, an' win or lose, I'll stick t' it! My path leads t' th' top o' th' IIWF, an' Sampson, ye're just another stone in th' pathway! Better brush up on yuir ring skills, "little brother", 'cause it's goin t' take much MUCH more than yuir borrowed fame an' yuir Neanderthal style t' stop me! James, Byron, ye'd best be watchin' on Saturday, 'cause it'll nae be long before Duncan Macbeth'll be darkenin' yuir doors, mark me! [With that, Macbeth whips off the blanket and throws it over the cameraman with a gale of laughter. The picture shows nothing but dull red tartan as the scene fades out. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * STEVE KOWALSKI vs. RANDY ACORN ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Two men headed in opposite directions lock up in this match. BL: Kowalski seems to get meaner with every match, but Acorn just hasn't been able to recapture that championship form he once displayed in the IIWF. LM: Kowalski seems intent on making sure Acorn doesn't regain that form tomorrow night: [SCENE: The camera makes its way into the dressing room of Steve "The Fury" Kowalski. The New Jersey Nightmare is unlacing his boots, coming off a one-sided victory over up and comer "Nifty" Ned Norton at a house show.] CM: I was told you wanted to make some air time, Mr. Kowalski. Did you want to comment on the IIWF expanding farther into the southwest? the "El Paso Hardships" tour has been a real suc... SK: Shut it, pencil-neck. I want to take a minute to talk about a punk I'm gonna waste on Saturday night. CM: Okay...whatever you... SK: Put a lid on it, I'm talkin' here! Acorn, ya maybe from Jersey, but ya ain't no bad boy. Yer a full time [BLEEP]hole on a part time paycheck! Come Saturday night, yer gonna see why _I'm_ the New Jersey Nightmare an' why yer jus' a [BLEEP]in' pretender! I'll be sendin' a lot of messages Saturday. Ha ha ha ha. Okay, turn it off, jerk. [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * MAD DOG WATKINS vs. HIGHWAYMAN ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Highwayman returned from a brief hiatus and scored an impressive win over Jumpin' Jack Wednesday night. BL: But Mad Dog Watkins ain't Jumpin' Jack. The Old Dog is as tough as they come and he's been around long enough to see anything an opponent can throw at him -- even some 300-year-old opponent. LM: Watkins _has_ been intense since his Ring Wars III brawl with Creed. Maybe a match like that has Watkins questioning how much longer he has in this profession. BL: I think he's only wondering who he's gonna beat up next: [SCENE: The shot opens up to Kowalchyk's Gym in downtown Detroit, MI, and follows the establishment's proprietor, Ned Kowalchyk across the gym to where Mad Dog Watkins lies on a bench, finishing up his daily workout with a short set of bench presses. Kowalchyk is an older gentlemen in his mid-sixties, short in stature and wide in girth, whose grey sweatsuit has seen better days. In his short arms, he carries an large cardboard package. As he approaches Watkins, he sets the package down and begins to speak.] NK: You think you own this gym now or something? I go to check the mail, and it's all for you! [Watkins is dressed in navy blue shorts and wrestling boots. He slowly sets the bar back on the rack and sits up slowly.] MDW: Hehehe... jealous, old timer? NK: Jealous? Of you...nah. And watch who you're calling old timer, you ain't so spry anymore yerself. MDW: Tell me about it. Sometimes I feel too damn old to be in this sport. [Watkins swings his massive legs over the bench and grabs his towel and water bottle off the floor near the bench. He pours the water over his head and then into his mouth, and subsequently towels off as Kowalchyk speaks.] NK: I bet that's what you were saying after da pup kicked your tail up in Toronto. Me and the boys cringed watching that one on the tube. The wife got so scared for you that she hadda leave the room after you got hit with Townshend's guitar. MDW: [throws his towel at Ned] Thanks for reminding me. How is Elizabeth anyway? NK: Same ol', same ol'. After 41 years of marriage, not much changes. [Kowalchyk has opened the box by this point and is holding up the contents in confused amazement for Watkins to see.] MDW: What you got there, Ned? Is that more stuff from the IIWF boys? NK: That's what the box says. What's up with those crazy loons? Why did they send this to you? What in the world is this? [Kowalchyk holds up an "Official IIWF Highwayman Hat" which he shakes his head at and quickly tosses aside. He then removes an "Official IIWF Highwayman Foam Cap Pistol" and scratches his head.] NK: What a load of... MDW: Hey now. NK: Let me get this straight... you gotta wrestle some joker named the Highwayman on Saturday? MDW: That's what they tell me. NK: And he ain't Johnny Cash or Willie Nelson? MDW: Not even close. NK: Huh... and he's supposed to by some dead guy from England? MDW: Yup. NK: And now he's come back to life after three-hundred years? MDW: Uh-huh. NK: Oh dear Petunia. How you like dem apples? A dead guy who wants to whip up on the Dog. In the old days something like this wouldn't have happened. Guys named Ray and Lou could wrestle and the fans would still love it. MDW: Hehehe...remind me never to introduce you to Requiem. NK: Did you say Rectum? MDW: REQUIEM. Some guy who thinks he's an avenging angel. And he plays a bad guitar to boot. NK: That's it! Dead guys are one thing, but when you go and blasphemize heaven and rock and roll at the same time... [Watkins begins to laugh as Kowalchyk kicks the box from the IIWF, sending the remaining promotional items tumbling out to the floor. In amongst the mix are a Brody Thunder hat, a "Furry" Fury, and some close-out items: Alphabet Boys matching Elvis lamps, Simon LeBec's "Simon Does Moondust" video, and an Alex Rio "Sorry, Your 15 Seconds of Fame Are Up" stopwatch.] NK: Hey, I been looking for this video... MDW: Take that stuff in the back and give it to the kids who come in from the junior high tomorrow. In the meantime, I gotta go watch some film on a dead man. NK: Not worried are ya, MD? MDW: Never worried, always prepared. The Highwayman does have a decent record and some good moves, so I want to know what I'm facing. The easiest way to go home with the short end of the purse is to underestimate an opponent, even one whose been dead for 300 years. [Watkins gets up, throws on his sweatshirt, and picks up his bag. He shakes hands with Kowalchyk and heads for the door.] NK: Yeah... you go and kick his tail for me on Saturday, and kick that Requiem's too while you're at it. Heck, kick everyone's tail and bring me back some gold. You know it'd look good around your waist. MDW: Hehehe... In due time, Ned. For know I'm just thinking about a dead guy that I'm going to bury. See you next week, old timer. [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ * BRODY THUNDER vs. MARTY WARNETT ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LM: Nothing puts the fire inside a man like a quest for gold, and both of these men are on that quest right now. BL: And nothing puts a fire in a woman's nose like "Sparkplug" after shave. Are you going to wash that stuff off or do I have to request a separate studio? LM: I'm not sure it washes off. Anyway, Brody Thunder is eager to capture his first belt here in the IIWF. And, as Tim Dross reported last weekend, Thunder may have his eye on a certain strap being held by one of his colleagues in the Syndicate. BL: Brian Lau wouldn't have any of that. When a member of the Syndicate holds a belt, it's up to the other members to make sure it stays in the Syndicate. Plain and simple. LM: We'll hear from the entire Syndicate shortly, but Brody Thunder seems very focused on taking Marty Warnett to school tomorrow night: [SCENE: A grainy black and white shot inside an abandoned old-fashioned one room schoolhouse. The sound of thunder rolls in the background. Scrawled in white chalk on the blackboard are the words: "EVIL,MEAN "MARTY WARNETT" "BRODY THUNDER" & NASTY" The sound of creaking floorboards is heard followed by the sound of clapping. The clapping gets louder as Brody Thunder enters the room from the left of the screen. He is dressed in jeans,white t-shirt and his black vest with his trademark lightning bolt emblem on the front and back. He slowly walks towards the front of the room, clapping as he begins to talk.] BT: Bravo, son.... ...bravo. Ya finally signed fer a match with the Lone Wolf. [Thunder stops clapping.] Ain't many in this game who're dumb enough ta do what you've done, Warnett... [Thunder pauses as if thinking,then looks at the camera.] ...an' there ain't many lookin' fer a second shot. [He continues walking. Lightning flashes through the window randomly.] But now that I've gotten ta see ya a little bit, I think it's time I smartened ya up ta just who it is that's gonna kick yer hide like it ain't never been kicked before. Warnett... [Thunder stops and faces the camera.] ...I'm takin' ya ta school. [He pulls out a cigar and places it in his mouth. He strikes a match against a desktop,lights the cigar and starts walking again.] I ain't heard ya out there bumpin' yer gums 'bout how yer gonna beat me, son.... where ya hidin'? I'm comin' down here ta put yer ass in a sling an' collect a paycheck fer doin' it. Yer in the way o' my destiny, my friend. An' THAT is yer mistake. What's it like, Warnett? What's it like ta be so afraid o' somethin' that ya can't face it straight up? Do you think it was a coincidence that the IIWF approached you about signin' a match with me? I told ol' Danny-boy ta start gettin' some names on the dotted line or I'm gonna make some folks mighty painful 'round here. Two days later I'm in the Spreadbury's office dryin' ink on a contract. A contract that'll allow me to legally do to you... ...what most folks get a life sentence fer. [Thunder walks to the blackboard and writes an "x" between the names as if he's multiplying one by the other.] Face it Warnett... the IIWF suits have thrown ya ta the Wolf. An' you think ya got a prayer o' beatin' me? Hehe... ya better reach deep into the clue bag an' grab a BIG one, son. I ain't here ta be yer jabrony. I ain't here ta be yer friend, yer pal or yer fishin' buddy. [Thunder picks up an old eraser and wipes out the name of "MARTY WARNETT".] I'm here ta be yer ticket outta this sport. [He then writes an "=" sign between "Brody Thunder" and "EVIL,MEAN & NASTY".] Life as you know it just got a whole lot more serious. [Thunder slams down the chalk onto the chalk tray.] As serious as a heart attack. We're on a collision course. An' when we meet... it ain't gonna be pretty. It's time fer school, greenhorn. The school o' hard knocks. An' there ain't no graduation from this kind o' education, amigo. Yeah, it's time ta go to school, "Marty". [He steps closer to the camera and spits on the floor.] An' I'm yer new teacher. M'name's Brody Thunder. "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder. Better get a dictionary an' learn at spell it, son... [The camera tightens in on Thunder's face which gets lit up from a flash of lightning.] ...cuz it's gonna be yer epitaph. Class dismissed. [Thunder turns to leave,pauses, then turns back to the camera with that evil grin.] Oh an' don't fergit ta do yer homework, Marty-boy..... [The grins disappears quickly replaced by a grimace.] ...cuz there WILL be a test. [There's another flash of lightning followed by a loud clap of thunder as Brody walks straight into the camera as the shot fades to black. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Marty Warnett knows about tests, having staged some memorable championship battles with Lord Byron recently. However, his trials and tribulations with Byron and Lady DeWinter seem to have left Marty longing for his party days. BL: Like Spuds Mackenzie on steroids. LM: Personally, I think Marty has been spending too much time in the sun: [SCENE: An empty desert landscape. The Arizona sun beats down, as a lizard crawls across the sweltering dust bowl. A single chord rings, the sustain setting the scene as the camera pans around, focusing on a cactus.] VOICEOVER: The heat of battle is intense. Only the bravest and fittest survive the flames of the IIWF warfare. Only the toughest forms of life thrive in the heat. [Suddenly, the picture crackles and fades. The chord is replaced by generic rock music. The desert is replaced by the IIWF interview arena, where Marty Warnett stands alone. He stands with his back to the camera, ribbons tied around his arms. He clenches his fists and raises them to his face. He then speaks for about a minute in a low, inaudible tone. He then paces from side to side.] MW: ...and you, Brody Thunder [snort] feel that you possess the forces, the forces and the power... and yet, as I look at you, I see someone who knows not the reality and power given to me by the gods. [snort] [Marty turns around, his face painted in a Batman style logo.] By the power of the teeth capped thanks to Vince, the hair styled by Linda, the tan provided by the sun lamps and the muscles given by the juice you cannot destroy the spirit of the elders [snort]. [Marty looks up, and raises his arm to the heavens.] You may bring the Syndicate, but how can you mortals [goes inaudible again] the power of the Ullllllltimmmmmatttttte [pauses] Party Maniacs? [snort]. Errr... Can somebody please attend my University and buy my comics? [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ************************************************************************** -------------- SPECIAL LIVE INTERVIEW: THE WHITE PHOENIX --------------- ************************************************************************** LM: We mentioned earlier that Joe Petrow will begin his Gauntlet run tomorrow night against none other than IIWF Cruiserweight Champion Shinja Chow -- The White Phoenix. BL: Chow hasn't been the same since he left that Iced Tea guy. LM: You mean Sun Tsi. The Phoenix has found inner peace again and has stepped back onto the path of lightness. BL: All of which makes his easy pickings for Joe Petrow tomorrow night. LM: Our Tim Dross is standing by LIVE with Shinja Chow in the Phoenix's U.S. home. Let's cut now to Tim for this special interview: [Cut LIVE to Tim Dross sitting with The White Phoenix in Chow's modest home. Both are sitting on simple wooden chairs around a small table. The walls are nearly bare, though the far wall have several swords mounted on it. A fireplace can also be seen; a strong fire is blazing. Chow is wearing red silk pants and a black sweatshirt.] TD: I'd like to thank you for inviting me here to your home. [Dross adjusts his collar; he is visibly perspiring.] But, my goodness, it must be 110 degrees in here! SC: [Flashing a smile] Did you expect differently, Mr. Dross? TD: No, I suppose not. Shinja, since your debut in the IIWF, we have slowly come to know about your history and your... peculiarities. And from your very first match, there were some who predicted your future greatness. Now, you've achieved the pinnacle of achievement, as evidenced by the...interesting...sight of the flaming belt around your waist last Saturday night. I can only suppose that your success in the league has changed your life. Care to comment about this? SC: Of course, the competition in the IIWF has altered my life in many ways. Before I began wrestling, I was a man stricken with grief and rage, trapped in a net of memories; the death of my family, the loss... or so I thought... of my master Sun Tsi [he turns his head and spits on the floor], my near death. I envisioned myself as a ronin, one of the ancient Samurai warriors who had betrayed his lord and been cast out of society. The self-hatred was crippling. However, wrestling granted me an outlet for my grief and anger, and had another effect which I didn't anticipate at the time. When I made my fans cheer for me, it filled my heart with pride. It was, perhaps more than anything, the fan support which allowed me the drive to keep going. TD: Of course, you had other motivation as well, as we quickly learned when you set your sights on tearing apart Brian Lau and his Syndicate. SC: At first, I sought to destroy The Syndicate because of what it represented: terror, brutality, force without justice or control. I worried about what their actions would teach the young fans, who are so often without direction. Without a strong hand to guide me in my youth, my strength would have turned into darkness. The young fans of the IIWF are the same way, TD: But, then your accusations toward The Syndicate became more serious. SC: Yes, and this is an unfortunate fact. I made accusations which, at the time, seemed perfectly reasonable. The evidence which I had suggested that Lau was in some way responsible for the death of my family as well as the destruction of my dojo. My rage was unquenchable... and terrifying. It began my eventual descent into darkness. You, of course, remember the flaming cage match which I fought against Matsuoko and Tiger Claw? TD: Yes, I remember it was one of the most exciting matches I've ever seen. SC: When I leaped off the cage and attacked Lau, and felt the rage that was festering between Claw and Hakiro, I felt such a burst of raw power as I had never known before. I felt like a god, like a cleansing flame. It was my greatest sin, that of pride. TD: You mentioned your descent into darkness. I can only assume that this means your eventual association with Sun Tsi. Obviously, your fans were shocked by your transformation; you, who had always stood for honor and justice, suddenly a violent rulebreaker. And the abuse which he heaped upon you... none of it made any sense. [Chow is silent for a long while, as he stares into the fire. Grief is stricken across his face. When he speaks, his words are very deliberately spoken.] SC: I believe it was that cage match which encouraged Sun Tsi to contact me finally. He saw the first glimmer of darkness in me, and moved quickly to secure my fall from grace for his own personal glory. He told me the basics of the Path of Inferno, and it was intoxicating; the glory of victory mixed with the sheer inhuman joy of inflicting pain, without any of the tempering effects of morality. He taught me to mortify the flesh, to take pleasure in both the pain I inflicted and received. At first, the power I gained was so pure that I only wanted more. This resulted in the fireball attack on Serge Annis, the defeat of Deathbringer, the betrayal of my old friends. I had destroyed my old life, and given myself over totally to the darkness of fire. TD: But, at Ring Wars 3, we saw the return of the White Phoenix which we knew and loved. What brought this change about? SC: The night before my ladder match with Takezo Musashi, I was visited by the Great Phoenix Spirit, who had saved my life and given me strength in my youth. He finally showed me what I had become, revealed the void in my soul which I had ignored, covering my eyes with visions of glory in battle. It was then that I realized I had to be born again, to burn off the residue of my past sins and return to my former honor. TD: Great Phoenix Spirit, hmmm? I don't understand completely. SC: The manifestation of fire in all its radiant glory, the essence of radical transformation, destruction, and rebirth. TD: Of course. [He shakes his head slightly.] Your association with Takezo Musashi, The Enigma, has been pivotal to your time here in the IIWF. Do you have any thoughts on that? SC: In Musashi, I saw a kindred spirit; another mystical warrior, seeking the path of the ancient ways. It became obvious from the start that our destinies would be intertwined. When the Dark Disciples made their first appearance, I knew that their actions would bring Musashi and I together, both as fellow warriors and as friends. Unfortunately, when Sun Tsi started sinking his claws into me, I was led to betray those who I had stood with in the past. Of course, the greatest betrayal was toward my closest friend. At Snow Brawl, I helped Musashi win the title, but only with the knowledge that I would one day wrench it from his broken hands. This came to pass, but the sight of this man, who was friend and companion to me for so long, helped cut through the web of deceit which Sun Tsi had woven around me. I can only hope that he will forgive my actions. Unfortunately, he now seems to be taking the first few steps on a trail which I also walked. And, due to my own experience, I know that I can only wait and watch him... and pray he does not fall as I did. TD: Let's talk about the championship. Do you feel that you are a marked man? SC: I know that my competition will become more intense now that I am champion. Everyone wants the belt and the recognition that comes with it. But I wholeheartedly look forward to the challenge. I know that the only way to restore trust in the hearts of my fans is to fight with honor and to defeat all challengers. This is my intention. TD: Steve "The Fury" Kowalski has made it perfectly obvious that he wants your title. And, of course, this has led to some controversy. What do you think about the situation? SC: If The Fury wants a match against me, I will grant it. He has fought hard and well, though I cannot agree with his attitude. Whether he now qualifies for a title match is up to the administration. If he does, I will definitely put the title on the line against him. TD: One last question, Phoenix. Though it seems a bit silly to ask a champion a question about fashion, I cannot help but notice that your wrestling outfit has seen some changes recently. I know that the colors you have chosen are symbolic, but I do not understand the exact nature of the situation. Can you fill me in? SC: When I started my new life after the visit of the Great Phoenix Spirit, I chose the name White Phoenix for a reason. In my native China, white is a color of death, the death which I had tasted and found wanting. It is also a traditional color of purity and peace in America, my new homeland. I felt that it represented me very well. When I fell from grace, I changed to black clothing. I don't think the symbolism behind that is too complex or subtle...I was making myself an outward manifestation of the inner void. I prefer not to linger there. The red which I have now chosen takes me back to my heritage. Red is a color of joy and fortune in China, the joy which I now feel in my new life. And, of course, the red is that of the beautiful flames, my children, my companions. TD: Uh... yeah. Now I understand. Phoenix, thank you for giving us this time to speak with you. It was most revealing. Back to the studios and you, Larry and Becky! [Just before the camera shuts off, Tim Dross is heard to say, "Can anyone get me a glass of water? I'm parched... it's like a desert in here!" Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ************************************************************************** --------------------------- IIWF TRASH TALK ---------------------------- ************************************************************************** LM: One of the matches that still stands out in my mind from last Saturday's card is Tony Starks' victory over Otto Verhoeven. BL: Let me get this straight. Starks hits a woman... well, he hit Heidi, anyway... but it's Verhoeven who gets the DQ. We need to fire Earl Alfonso. LM: Earl does a stellar job. But what stands out in my mind is the intensity Tony Starks brought to the ring. Since returning from that potentially career-ending back injury, he's been focused on giving 110 percent in the ring: [SCENE: A Staten Island gym, Tony Starks is working out with a sparring partner in the ring. The sparring partner tries various attacks on Starks but they are repelled easily. Suddenly, Starks locks on the Katha Jime on his opponent who quickly goes unconscious. Starks refuses to release the hold and a number of gym attendants quickly pull Starks off and attend to the man. Starks gets out of the ring and speaks in a very cold tone.] TS: Big, bad, Butcher. What did you think of those little restholds? Huh? I heard you scream like a little boy when I locked that hold on you. What's wrong, big man? Where was your power then? What about that wheelchair that you were going to put me in? Where was it? You got one thing right Otto, this thing is not over by a long shot. The next time I have you in the ring, I am going to break that leg and make you see that I not some little street thug. You are moaning about how I put out that lady you run with? Give me a break. She wants to hit me, she can get beat down too. She should be used to it, I heard you picked her up on 125th street a few years ago when she was getting beat down by her pimp. Be warned Otto, it is no more Mr. Nice Guy here, it is all business, 24-7. I am not going to be so easy on you next time. You really do think you are indestructible, don't you? You got all those people telling you that you are a German Superman. You actually believe it huh? Well, Supe, you and that Sucker you run with -- Byron -- can get the hell out of my way before you aren't able to use your motor functions. Byron, that Aristoclutch, what is it, a modified STF? Pretty clever, well, Euro Champ, IC Champ, those belts don't mean jack as far as I am concerned. I don't care who you beat, cuz you ain't beat me. The European Alliance? Yeah. Same thing goes for you Otto, these suckers on TV keep talking about how you are the former champ. Let it go, Otto. You lost, remember? Or are the 'roids getting to you, Supe? You had better get out of my way Otto or I am going to cripple you, Byron, _and_ your nurse and send you back to Europe sipping applesauce out of a damn straw. Get ready sucker, it's on... same thing goes to the whole IIWF, no more Mr. Nice Guy. Get in the ring with me and take your chances... Peace... nah, to hell with that. Things ain't peaceful no more. [Starks just stares into the camera with an intense gaze. Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Tony Starks is a man on a mission, just like the Subway Psycho. Not only was he betrayed by Tiger Claw at Ring Wars III, but last week Creed -- his former tag team partner -- left him laying a victim in the ring for the Syndicate. BL: But like you, Larry, the Psycho smelled so bad that the Syndicate couldn't do _too_ much damage. LM: Well the Psycho _will_ do some damage when he gets his hands on Creed and Tiger Claw: [SCENE: A dark stretch of highway, far from the city. It is a rainy night. A distant street light provides the only illumination. Wearing a long black trench coat and a black fedora is the Subway Psycho.] SP: Well, I'm out here on this long, lonely road. Far from my domain, but yet so close to what I feel inside. You see I may not be completely accustomed to these surroundings, but I know my own intestinal fortitude, I know my boundaries, and I know what I can count on. Right now this ride is symbolic of my IIWF career... I am alone and the road back to the top, the road to the IIWF Championship is a long and hard one. That is a trip I am determined to make and see through to the end... no matter how many road kills there are on the way. Creed... you're road kill number one. What type of a man are you? Not much of one by my estimation. I'll prove that on Saturday Night. I've never tried to hype myself as a role model, but there are things I take very seriously, such as trust, honor, and respect. I though we had those things between us. I guess, like many times before, I made an error in character judgement. Did you think you were tough attacking me when I didn't expect it? Is this the way you're trying to earn a name for yourself? By leaving me to those jackals? You little punk. I'VE BEEN IN BATTLES SO HORRIFIC THAT YOUR MOTHER WOULD MAKE YOU GO TO BED BEFORE SHE'S LET YOU WATCH! You crossed the wrong man, and now it's payback time. [Subway Psycho turns as if to walk off down the road. He stops, as if remembering something. He turns slowly, with a wicked smile on his face. The camera pulls in tight.] Tiger Claw... don't think I've forgotten about you. If I were to take my feelings for Creed and multiply that by a hundred you wouldn't come close to my hatred for you. I'm biding my time... letting this seed of hatred and rage germinate and grow. Creed will be an example. When I take you down it will be an event of historical brutality and redemption. Count on it. [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: It may be difficult for the Psycho to actually get to Claw because of the men Claw is surrounded by. BL: The Stinker knows all too well what the Syndicate can do. They've been the biggest thorn in his side in the IIWF. LM: Speaking of a thorn in the side, Steve Roberts was invited to interview the Syndicate this week. BL: Was that nice? And after Stevie spoke so highly of you this week. LM: Errr... sorry, Steve. I'll get you some biscuits. Anyway, here is the report he filed: [SCENE: "Soundbite" Steve Roberts stands in front of the camera in the lobby of the Dojo. Sounds of impact come from behind a door in the far wall.] SR: Hey there, you primitive screwheads. Now I'm coming to you from the headquarters of the Syndicate. Yeah, that's right, the most powerful group of men in the IIWF today. I have the honour of actually coming into their training facilities and getting an interview with them, and as you know, The Syndicate doesn't let just anyone do an interview with them. I, of course, was actually requested by Brian Lau to come here today. Ya got that? Me... Brian Lau wants _me_ to interview _him._ Well, let's get this thing going. [Steve opens the door, and everyone in the gym beyond turns to look. Upon seeing Steve Roberts and the camera crew, they all yell out greetings and begin to come forward. Brian Lau, Tiger Claw, Brody Thunder, Casey James, Don McQueen, Kane, and Wulf all walk over.] CJ: Hey! Steve! How's the hand? SR: Ummm, what about my hand? CJ: Ummm... Nothing, never mind. SR: Okay, guys. Well, let's see... What shall I start with? Oh, yeah... What's the deal with that nutbar Nightwing? BL: Steve, your guess is as good as mine. None of us have so much as even talked to him, let alone get into any altercation with him. His bursting into our dressing room was as much a surprise to us as it was to anyone else. As far as I'm concerned, though, he's got to have a death wish. I mean, everyone in the Coliseum knew that we were all there, so why would he come in alone? I mean, he's have a hard time beating one of these men, but five of them? Not a chance. I'm just surprised he was able to participate in a match later on in the evening. SR: From the sounds of it, it's some wahoo Injun thing. BL: It's some insane thing, if you ask me. SR: Well, I for one was happy to see him lose a few tail feathers, and there's no better team than the Syndicate to have done it. Now let me move on to the title scene. First, Don, what are you feeling after the titles were stolen from your men? DM: Well Steve, I've had enough time to let off some steam and now we're ready to get down to business. I'll admit that losing the titles to Pain Inc. was a setback, but it was only a small setback, and one we will soon overcome. Do you think a manager of Mr. Mic's incompetence can keep his men on top for long? The very idea makes me laugh my ass off. Listen up Mickey boy! You and your talentless punks got a lucky cheap shot in, that's all. My boys just needed a little rest from holding those titles, but we'll be back for your hides; and our belts soon enough! KANE: Pain Inc! It seems to me, you meek simpletons, that you are in possession of something that belongs to us. You let your pitiful quest for glory cloud your judgement, and you stole our World championships away from us. I question the wisdom of such a rash act; do you not know the evil depths that the vengeance of the Dark Disciples reaches? Have you not experienced the affliction of our wrath first hand? Obviously we have not revealed to you the full extent of our savagery; now you must be punished by every despicable cell of it. I assure you, our tormented souls take no greater delight than exacting punishment on the weak and stupid. A warning to every other team in the IIWF; our business is now with Pain Inc., if any of you other weaklings meddle in our affairs, or get in our way, prepare to pay the consequences. And believe me, they are very dire consequences indeed. [evil chuckle] [Wulf's eyes dart around the room like a psychopath's, and his voice sounds strained and tortured.] WULF: Right now the cold fuel of rage is flowing through my bones. Right now my hatred of every living being is at its peak. Our playthings have been taken away from us, and I see no alternative but to crush, stomp and maim every tag team I can lay my hands on. I don't care who handed us the defeat, every tag team is to blame, and all will face my particular brand of pain. The voices inside my head are spurring me on, they will not let me in peace! They are saying "Wulf! Wulf! Your symbol of domination has been wrenched from your grasp! You must take it back, you must crush the pretenders to your throne! You must see rivers of their blood flow from the ring!" I must do what the voices say, for they will not let me rest until I have fulfilled their purpose. Pain Inc., you are that purpose! You will be those rivers of blood! [Wulf coughs up a big, green gob and spits it onto the floor. His eyes continue to rove around the room like he is about to jump somebody.] DM: Oh, and by the way Night Patrol; that Brenda Hawkings was really great if you know what I mean! [Don winks at the camera]. It's a shame I had to give her over to the tender mercies of the Dark Disciples! [Kane and Wulf cackle insanely]. Listen up, Prophets of Rage! If you guys know what's good for ya', ya' won't be getting in the way of the Dark Disciples ever again. Since 'yer kind of new around here, we'll go easy on you this time, but never again. Take that beating you took as your final warning! CJ: But rest assured, guys, we're all going to work together to get those titles back. If we've got to steal them, we will... Isn't that right, King of Thieves? [Casey nudges Steve] SR: Huh? What are you talking about? CJ: Nothing. Forget it. SR: Well, Casey, what about your defense against Creed? CJ: Pretty good, I must say. We all worked well together. I don't think I can remember a time when the Syndicate has been so strong. Creed is a good kid, that's for sure, but he forgot one thing. The Syndicate is family. You want a piece of one of us? Then you're getting a piece of all of us. Creed, you'd better call up your CEO and get him to watch one of our tapes, because he needs some pointers on how the Syndicate works. We can't be beaten by just one man. You need an army to get past us. SR: So I guess it's on to your next defense, and so on until you get to Mr. Kick-me. CJ: Heh... Yeah, Quigley. Mr. "I can't live if I'm less than number one." I don't know about Quigley, you know? I wonder if he realizes that by putting me down, he puts down every person in the IIWF. Of course, I really don't give a damn about everyone else... Just the people right here. Quigley, it's one thing to say that you're the best, but it's another thing to be it. It's easy to write in on your application that you're number 1, but it's another thing to actually accomplish it. And if you lose against me, Quigley, then your little fantasy world would come crumbling down, and then you'll end up in the Man Of Steel Clinic. Quigley, I'm the one with the belt, and I'm the one who needs to prove absolutely nothing. Good, bad, I'm the guy with the gun... [Casey nudges Steve] Huh? Huh? SR: What are you talking about? CJ: Never mind. SR: Now, speaking of titles, Brody, now that you're with the Syndicate, one of the things you're looking for must have been found, and that's money. What are your plans for titles? BT: Jus' like I said from the start an' it ain't changed. There's plenty o' belts here in the IIWF that're jus' waitin' ta be taken. An' I plan on takin' one _real_ soon. BL: Brody, let me just say that I'm very happy with the work you've done with us. Any title you want, just name it, and I'll get you the shot. BT: Thank ya kindly, Mr Lau. I'll keep that in mind. SR: Now I just have one more thing to address. Tiger Claw, I'm quite glad that you're back with the Syndicate, and that whole thing with the Psycho was, well, a ruse. TC: Thank you Steve, although I do remember some comments you made that were directed to me that were less than... complimentary. SR: Well, you know, I mean... The Subway Psycho? I was fooled by the clever scheme you guys came up with... TC: It's okay, Steve. The comments made by both you and Becky really helped everyone believe that I had left the Syndicate. Of course, that ruse has once again twisted the thorn in my side enough to become an annoyance again. The Psycho cost me my chance to hold the title again, and for that he will pay. I'm still waiting for his answer to my challenge, and I hope he will accept. I'd like nothing more than to finish this once and for all with the Psycho broken and bloody in the ring. SR: I'd love to see that myself! Well, guys, I'm afraid that we're out of time. It's been a pleasure, and I hope that you guys will have me back. BL: Of course, Steve. SR: Groovy. Anyway, for the Syndicate, this is Steve Roberts saying... CJ: Shop smart... Shop S-Mart. SR: Ummm... Whatever. [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Newcomer Derek Mota [a loud squeal erupts from a certain female member of the audience] made a storming debut last week, winning not one but TWO matches on "Wednesday War Room". BL: I understand Randy Acorn wasn't too happy about being locked in his dressing room during one of them. Of course, it WAS Randy's match, so he may have had a point. LM: Acorn and Mota have clearly had past problems in another federation and it seems to have spilled over to the IIWF. We received the following tape from Mota a few days ago of him and alleged broadcaster Mike Burton... or something like that. BL: Everyone wants to be a IIWF broadcaster. Remember kids, we are paid professionals. DO NOT try this at home. LM: Let's go to the tape: [Cut to a scene subtitled "Earlier This Week". Derek Mota is sitting in a director's chair alongside Mark Braxton, television journalist. As the camera shot focuses in on them, they both stop talking and look at the camera. Mota is wearing his shoulder length black hair slicked back in a pony tail, and is wearing a Sychopath T-Shirt.] MB: Welcome Derek to the show. I wish I knew how you convinced me to do this, I'm not on the IIWF payroll. DM: Hey, thanks Mark, and you just remember who got you on this show if you get your big break someday. MB: The first thing I'd like to do tonight is go right to the beginning. How did Derek Mota become a wrestler? DM: I guess it was about five years ago, me and my brother Dan were still living at our parent's place. They owned a manufacturing business, and we worked there part time. We were both pretty big guys by an average person's standards, I guess we can thank my dad's genes for that, and the fact that we were always working at the plant since we were kids. MB: Not everything went well with the business, I hear. DM: It was going great at the beginning. But costs were going up, so they moved the business to Mexico, where labor was lower, and they could take advantage of free trade. It started off great, they were making pretty good money until the peso crashed. All the money my parents had invested was going fast, and it was a pretty depressing time. MB: And that's when you got into wrestling? DM: That's when I got into wrestling, that's right. Me and my brother used to go to the Lucha matches there, we'd hang out in the dressing rooms with the wrestlers and talk trash. Eventually we got in a few matches, we were both jobbers, but we had a great time. MB: I don't recall ever seeing you in any of the federations there. DM: Well, we were wearing masks, and we didn't go under our real names. But it was a great start. That's where I perfected my wrestling style. MB: Eventually you moved back to your hometown of Toronto in Canada. What happened then? DM: My parents ran out of money, and there really wasn't anything for us there. So we moved back to Canada, where my parents got regular jobs, and my brother and I moved out and started wrestling full time. MB: Your start was in the UWA then. DM: Yeah, about four years ago. I started off in tag teams there without my brother, I was teaming with a guy called Ben Wright. He was okay, but it was obvious we had no future together. So I brought in my brother. Together we wrestled some of the top talent there, the Apocalypse, the Brothers of Chaos, Gods of War, and we held our own. MB: What are your greatest memories in the UWA? DM: Definitely winning the UWA North American Tag Team Titles. We fought together for at least a year before we won any titles, and this one will always be special. MB: What caused you to leave the UWA? DM: The money just wasn't there. They used to be big, one of the tops in wrestling, but lost a lot of talent in the past few years. They just couldn't afford to pay their wrestlers like they did in the golden years of wrestling. So I jumped. I've got things going in the NLWP, and now I'm in the big time, the IIWF. MB: What has caused you to be angry at the world like you are? DM: The system. Everything's geared toward failure. My parents' business went down. They came back, now they're working crappy jobs just to pay the bills. You can't even walk down the [BLEEP] streets at night anymore without having to pack a gun! My education, I went to college for four years, and what did I have to show for it? I was working at my parents' plant, I couldn't even get a job! So that's why I changed my view on things. The whole world's just falling apart, there's nothing we can do about it, so we might as well just help it go out with a blast! MB: I'd have to say that it's an attitude like that that's making the whole world go down in the first place. DM: Hey, who's payin' ya tonight? MB: Actually, no one. The IIWF people aren't looking like they're going to pay me for this, like you promised! DM: I'll buy you a beer after we're all done here. MB: [looks at Mota sarcastically like everything will be fine now] Anyways, let's get to the IIWF. You've taken your vendetta with "Badboy" Randy Acorn into the IIWF. Any comments? DM: Yeah. Acorn, next Saturday. You and me will get it on. Then I put you right out of the IIWF. Next question. MB: You've already put down some of the biggest names in wrestling in your two weeks here, Derek. Aren't you worried that you may be burning your bridges too quickly? DM: Derek Mota is all about messing it up with the best. Sure, I'm gonna tick some people off. Sure, some of these guys are gonna beat me. But I'm gonna beat some of them. I'll make my way up to the top, and I'm gonna raise some eyebrows on the way there. Just trust me on that one. MB: You made your debut last Wednesday along with two other newcomers, Ike Sampson and Duncan Macbeth. Do you have any comments about these wrestlers? DM: Not yet, Mark. [Mota then flashes a cunning smile at the camera.] But maybe sooner than you think. MB: Okay, thank you Derek. I'm Mark Braxton, reporting for the... uh, I'm Mark Braxton, and I'll see you again sometime! [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Good job there Mike! BL: I thought his name was Don. LM: Whatever. BL: Hey, I thought we only ran those long "Up Close and Personal" segments on "Inside the IIWF". LM: Apparently, Derek Mota wanted us to know about the obstacles he and his family have faced. BL: Obstacles? What about poor lil' Creed out there with no family at all. Just a big, strong... rich... CEO man to keep him company. Oh... the humanity. LM: You're all concerned, I can tell. BL: Uh-huh. Go get me a biscuit, homeboy! LM: Let's turn our attention back to the tag team scene, where the race is on to see which team will be the first to reach the coveted 20-win mark. BL: The Armed Forces are just one win away, but they're only one win ahead of the High Plains Drifters. Josey Wales isn't one to let another team get the better of his boys. LM: Both of those teams have held the IIWF World Tag Team Championship, which is still their ultimate goal. However, the 20-win mark is certainly attractive to both teams. Just ask the Forces: [SCENE: NavCom stands in the IIWF interview area.] NC: And so the IIWF has bowed out of the "Superstar" Summit. President Spreadbury, I applaud this decision. A pay-per-view involving bush leagues would never live up to the standard set by the IIWF. However, we still expect to face the High Plains Drifters... and come at them with all that we have. For months now, we've battled Easy and Pale to some great contests. We defeated them for the IIWF Tag titles, they defeated us for a title shot and eventually won the belts, we beat 'em like dogs in a three-way, but never got the belts. There's no doubt that there is great history between the two teams, but come Birthday Bash or Saturday Night or whenever we meet for the first team to twenty wins... that'll be us baby. See you in the ring, Riderboys. [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: Another team that has held the IIWF World Tag Team belts is the Zodiac Connection. They debuted a new team member Wednesday night, a rather large individual known only as Cancer. BL: The Crab. Just like you, 'Lar. Hehe. LM: Oh, I think YOU probably know a thing or two about crabs, Becky. BL: [threateningly] What's that supposed to mean? LM: That... uh... er... that is... that you like seafood. Yeah, that's it. BL: Uhhhh-huh. LM: Let's go to the tape... quickly: [SCENE: The Zodiac Connection stand in the IIWF interview area.] TAURUS: Ladies and Gentlemen, you have seen the final piece of the puzzle added to the Zodiac entourage. You can be assured that he will not waste his energy ranting and raving like some other bodyguards. He is here for one reason and one reason only... to serve as a protector for the Gemini twins as they give us instructions during our matches. SCORPIO: Yeah we heard about how the suits are concerned about the rise of non-wrestling personnel. Well I got news for them... Cancer is very willing to step inside of the ring at any time. He is an expert in the moves of submission. Until then, he is here with one intention... protection of Gemini. As far as Night Patrol is concerned, we will watch very closely to see if your supposed turn is more than just a fluke or if you are truly prepared to walk down that aisle and show the people what the true meaning of justice is! And Pain, Inc., we knew that you clowns weren't finished with us just yet. Come on and play with us! [Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: The fallout from Night Patrol's turn on Pain Inc. is just beginning to be felt here in the IIWF. Some teams would like to pair up with Brenda Hawkings' men, while other are very leery of them and steering clear. BL: Everyone loves a man in uniform... especially anyone wearing "Sparkplug" after shave. LM: After the trouble Cold Spell had with Harlequin Comedy Wednesday night, they seem to be among those who are ready to form a partnership: [SCENE: Cold Spell's workout complex on the shores of Lake Superior. Even though it's April, it's snowing. Steve Summer shivers and looks around.] SS: God, is it ever warm here? Plus that little twit is probably waiting with a bucket of ice water or something. [he looks around nervously] [After a second, Edmund Fitzgerald comes up behind Steve and taps him on the shoulder.] SS: Aieee! Oh, it's you. Where's Icehawk? FITZ: He's not in the mood to talk right now. SS: What's the matter? Didn't he enjoy his _hot_ date with Comedy? FITZ: [glaring] Shut up. SS: Ummm, yes sir. [Fitz grabs the microphone out of Steve's hand and faces the camera.] Okay, we know the rules now. We came to the IIWF to prove that we were one of the best tag teams in the world. And we've done that. But in the IIWF, two guys who come to the ring alone and wrestle a clean match aren't going to get anywhere. Icehawk and I talked this over earlier in the week, and we had decided that we were going to see about an alliance with the Harlequins, since they seemed to be fighting the same teams we were. And he's always been worried that someone would hurt Comedy. Obviously, that all changed after that red-headed bitch burned him Wednesday night. So we're back to square one... and although it seems strange to say this, I'm here to offer Cold Spell's support to the one team we respect -- Night Patrol. I still don't like the way they beat us, but no one has given us a tougher match than they did, and I do like the way they are talking these days. Brenda, I know you call the shots. I'll be at the Coliseum Saturday night. Let me know what you think. [The camera starts to pull back, then pans to a shot of Icehawk walking down the beach. He's wearing jeans and a Chicago White Sox jacket, with a matching Sox cap covering his singed hair. As the camera zooms in, you can see that he is picking the petals off a flower. As the picture fades, you can just hear him saying: "She loves me, she blows me up, she loves me, she blows me up ..." Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] LM: As the tag team action continues to heat up here in the IIWF, top teams from all over the world are trying to get into the picture. BL: Those gawd-awful United Nations people aren't coming back, are they? LM: No, but a team called the Last Resort has already arrived. Under the management of Mr. Friday... BL: My name's Friday... I'm a manager! LM: ...whom we met on Wednesday... BL: Just the facts, Ma'am! LM: ...they could be a team to be reckoned with: [SCENE: Cut to a taped interview in the IIWF Studio. Tim Dross is seated along with two masked wrestlers and a very imposing African-American.] TD: I'd like to welcome the IIWF newest tag team the Last Resort and their manager Mr Friday. [Mr Friday gets up and shakes Tim's hand.] MF: Nice to meet you, Mr Dross, or is it okay if I call you Tim? TD: [rubbing his hand, in obvious pain] Tim... is... fine. MF: Sorry about that sometimes I forget my own strength. [Mr. Friday laughs, very loudly] TD: Yeah, sure. So then, Mr Friday, I believe that this is the first time that these two individuals have teamed up, can you tell us a bit more about them and how they came to team up? MF: Certainly, this is El Diablo. [He points to the wrestler wearing the red and black mask ] We have been friends for a long time. He's had many years of wrestling experience down in Mexico and when I phoned him up and told him that I was forming a tag team that was going to participate in the IIWF he jumped at the chance. TD: Yes, I've heard of El Diablo, I believe he was once dubbed the _unluckiest_ wrestler in Mexico. MF: That is true, but I believe that El Diablo would prefer to say how he came to be called that himself. ED: Is true, I have thee most bad luck over thee years, many times I come close to winning a title but every time something it goes wrong. Like my tag partner breaks his leg on eve of championship match. I also have my share of injuries. I now coming to the end of my career and would not like to be thought of as failure. It is honour and privilege to come to IIWF and I hope now that my luck it will change. TD: What about the mysterious Masked Avenger, his tag partner? I have never heard of him before. MF: Well Tim, I have a confession when I first approached President Spreadbury I hadn't found a partner for El Diablo, but I knew that once I had got my foot in the door then I would be able to scout the talent that existed within the IIWF. And it didn't take me long to find the ideal man. TD: So you're saying that the Masked Avenger is an existing wrestler in the IIWF? Who is he? [Mr Friday grins.] MF: All that I am prepared to say is that he is a talented young wrestler with limitless potential. TD: So where do you go from here, and what's your impression of the tag team situation here in the IIWF? MF: From what I have seen so far, it is very competitive and there are many good teams out there. One thing does concern me though, and that is that amount of run-ins and sneak attacks that go on here in the IIWF. I get the impression that if you don't have any friends then you don't get very far. There is one team we would like to pit our talents against though. TD: Who's that? MF: Well we'd like to go up against the... ED: High Plains Drifters. Yes I have seen them in action many time before, even fought dem many year ago in Mexico and would like to go up against again. Will show them what we made of and hand them another loss. TD: That remains to be seen. Well, thank you for joining me gentlemen and I'm sure we will see you in action soon. [As the shot fades Dross can be seen once again rubbing his hand. Fade. Cut back to Larry and Becky in the studio.] ************************************************************************** ------------------------- IIWF SINGLES RANKINGS ------------------------- ************************************************************************** ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Name F/H Fought W L D Win% Ranking (old) new ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Casey James H 36 21 13 2 61% (WC) WC Lord Byron H 21 16 5 0 76% (IC) IC The White Phoenix F 21 14 6 1 69% (CW) CW ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Creed N 14 11 3 0 79% (1) 1 Deathbringer H 30 22 5 3 78% (2) 2 Steve Kowalski H 17 13 4 0 77% (3) 3 "Enigma" Takezo Musashi F 28 21 7 0 75% (4) 4 Highwayman F 8 6 2 0 75% (5) 5 Mad Dog Watkins H 10 7 3 0 70% (6) 6 Requiem F 5 3 1 1 70% (7) 7 Subway Psycho F 32 21 9 2 69% (8) 8 Chris Quigley F 24 16 7 1 69% (9) 9 Billy Shakespeare F 36 24 11 1 68% (10) 10 "Sychosys" Joe Petrow N 11 7 3 1 68% (11) 11 Otto Verhoeven H 29 19 9 1 67% (12) 12 Marty Warnett F 36 22 14 0 61% (13) 13 Brody Thunder H 20 12 8 0 60% (15) 14 Nightwing F 10 6 4 0 60% (18) 15 Dirt Dog Unique Allah N 16 9 6 1 59% (14) 16 Mr. Damage H 28 16 12 0 57% (16) 17 "Real Deal" Luke Steele F 7 4 3 0 57% (17) 18 Tiger Claw H 43 22 19 2 54% (19) 19 Cheshire H 13 7 6 0 54% (21) 20 The Sandman F 32 16 16 0 50% (20) 21 Serge Annis N 11 5 5 1 50% (22) 22 The Hangman H 17 6 7 4 47% (23) 23 The Cell H 21 9 12 0 43% (24) 24 Ronnie Paris F 12 5 7 0 42% (25) 25 "Badboy" Randy Acorn H 10 4 6 0 40% (26) 26 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Duncan Macbeth N 1 1 0 0 100% (28=) 27= Ike Sampson F 1 1 0 0 100% (28=) 27= Derek Mota H 3 2 0 1 83% (27) 29 Tony Starks F 3 2 1 0 67% (30) 30 Spur H 4 1 3 0 25% (31) 31 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ************************************************************************** ------------------------ IIWF TAG TEAM RANKINGS ------------------------- ************************************************************************** ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Name of team F/H Fought W L D Win% Ranking (old) new ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Pain Inc. H 21 12 8 1 59% (WT) WT The Harlequins N 8 6 2 0 75% (US) US ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Prophets of Rage H 7 6 1 0 86% (1) 1 Night Patrol H 6 5 1 0 83% (2) 2 Cold Spell F 7 5 2 0 72% (3) 3 Domination F 10 6 2 2 70% (4) 4 Rising Sun Revolution F 16 11 5 0 69% (5) 5 The Armed Forces H 29 19 9 1 67% (6) 6 High Plains Drifters H 30 18 11 1 62% (7) 7 Dark Disciples H 15 8 6 1 57% (8) 8 W & W Express H 7 4 3 0 57% (11) 9 The Hangmen H 20 10 8 2 55% (10) 10 The Zodiac Connection F 22 11 11 0 50% (12) 11 G.W.R. N 14 7 7 0 50% (9) 12 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Last Resort F - - - - - (-) - ------------------------------- on leave ------------------------------- The Players' Club F 14 6 8 0 43% (-) - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ************************************************************************** ---------------------- UPCOMING IIWF PROGRAMMING ----------------------- ************************************************************************** LM: Fans, we know you'll be with us tomorrow night for what promises to be a great card. Call the IIWF Hotline on Sunday for the latest news and rumors, and don't forget to tune in Monday for "IIWF Monday Musings." "Inside the IIWF" comes your way on Tuesday, and then "Wednesday War Room" heats up the middle of the week. As always, it will be followed by "IIWF Classics" on Thursday. BL: Best of all, someone else will have to smell Larry for the next week. LM: So for Becky LaRue, this is Larry Morton saying... BL: Hasta la vista, Gunther! [The remote camera zooms back up the aisle as the fat broad makes kissy faces and chants Derek Mota's name. The other fans wave their signs and t-shirts as the credits roll past too quickly to read. Fade.] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= I * I * W * F =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+ | President: Daniel Spreadbury | Vice-President: Steve Owens | | univ0322@sable.ox.ac.uk | sowens@admin.presby.edu | | iiwf@sisko.demon.co.uk | IIWFadmin@aol.com | +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- http://www.sisko.demon.co.uk -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+