[Footage from a civil war documentary begins to play, fife and drum accompany.  Slowly, blue and grey clad warriors march across an open field.  A cannon barks and its ball lands among the combatants with an explosion.  Suddenly the fife and drum change to a grinding guitar rendition of the same marching theme, the civil warriors replaced by IIWF wrestlers.  There is the whistle of a falling bomb and a mushroom cloud of flame.  From the inferno emerges the IIWF logo:]               #####      ######    ###            ##########              ########## ########## ####       ##  ##########              ########## ########## ####  #   #### ########                #####      #####    #### ##  ##### ####                 ####       ####    #### ### ####  ####                 ####       ####    ############# #########                 ####       ####     ########### #########                 ####       ####     ####  ####   ####              #########  #########   ###   ####   ####              #########  #########   ###    ##    ####               ########   ########   ##      #    ####              =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ## =-=-=-=                            W E D N E S D A Y                  /////////        +         \\\\\\\\\\                             W A R  R O O M              =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=               *LIVE* From Bourbon Street, the French Quarter                        New Orleans, Louisiana [The camera pans along cobblestone streets.  It glides past wrought iron railings and the Mississippi delta where a paddleboat is docked.  It spins and cuts to Larry Morton and Becky LaRue in the middle of a barricaded street where a temporary ring is set up.  Revellers wave to the camera and expose parts of their anatomy. A young African American tap dances for change and a one man band tries to catch the attention of the camera.  A two year-old with red hair and a sequined jumper gnaws on the table.] LM: Welcome to the War Room!  New Orleans is the next stop on the     Coronation Clash Crusade Tour. BL: Did you say... the Coronation Clash Crusade Tour?  [aside] That ought to make the suits happy. LM: We're coming at you from the french quarter, Bourbon Street to be     precise. [singing] # Oh, when the Saints... Come marching in...# BL: I thought you'd recovered from the brownies. LM: Brownies? BL: Mexico?  Friday Night?     LM: I did the broadcast and went to bed early.  I don't remember a thing. BL: [Cocks an eyebrow at Larry] LM: Well... Becky, New Orleans. BL: About time.  After two sink holes in a row we get sent somewhere worth going. I got sand in my bra at that damned monument. LM: I didn't know you wore one.     BL: I've noticed your attempts to find out. LM: [uncomfortable for a moment]  Soooo.  The Coronation Clash Crusade     Tour. BL: Okay.  You've said it twice.  Veep Jim will be happy.         LM: Ever since I saw "Angel Heart", New Orleans has given me the creeps. BL: Just because we're at sea level and we have to bury our dead above     ground.  It gives the place atmosphere.  Personality.  Something, you, Larry, are obviously unacquainted with. LM: [mumbling] Deathbringer might like it here. BL: Hey, this is my home town.  It is also the home of the Southern Bayou Wrestling Federation.  I got started here.  My first bout was a victory over Katy the Krocodile Kween. LM: Yes, well, I'm sure it was a great bout.     BL: You're jealous.  Some day I'll let you reflect on your first broadcast job.  [Immitating]  This is Larry Morton with the weather... LM: Becky, who is the young child gnawing on the table?  She looks a     little too familiar.         BL: [lifting up the child]  This is my precious niece Vicki LaRue.  Say     something for the camera, dear. VL: Soundbite me! LM: Isn't that, um, cute. VL: [BLEEP] LM: I can't believe she said that! BL: I taught her everything I know. LM: But that? BL: Better she should learn it from her loving Aunt than on the streets. VL: Dior! LM: I'm at a loss for words... BL: Honey, give the man a word. LM: NO! NO! VL: Quigley! LM: Quigley? BL: [Suddenly stern]  You know I told you to NEVER say that word in     public! LM: But... BL: Shut up Larry, and let's get to the action.  I've got a lot of old     friends to see and only three days left to do it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Marty Warnett vs. Scott "the Whine" Bloom ------------------------------------------------------------------------     Warnett started the night by taking the microphone and announcing to     Chris Quigley that he would put on a wrestling clinic for Quigley's     benefit.  He did just that, announcing the name of each of his moves     from an armbar to knee lift to waistlock takeover.  Bloom did     his best to complain about the situation, but to no avail.  Bloom went for his finisher, the devastating "Late Card", but fell victim to Warnett's new hold.  With a cry to Quigley that he was applying the "Powerchord", Marty applied an abdominal stretch, ignored his     opponent's complaints for a while then swiftly repositioned for a     chokeslam.  This left the downed "Whine" open to the "Hangover" and     the pin.      No sooner had the ref counted three than Chris Quigley entered     ringside, unimpressed.  Warnett called for him to enter the ring but     Simon Lebec answered the call instead, clotheslining Quigley before     cheapshotting Warnett.  The three had only just locked up before Billy Shakespeare entered the fray.  Lebec immediately made his escape loudly proclaiming he couldn't fight three men at once.  Quigley and Warnett stared off briefly before "Quickstrike" dismissed Warnett with a wave of his hand and exited.  Warnett offered to shake Shakespeare's hand, but Billy merely exited, ignoring him.  Warnett showboated for the crowd, which was squarely on his side. RESULT: Marty Warnett by pinfall LM: It appears that... BL: Hey, Lar, where's the little "Point of View" banner? LM: It seems we can't afford to use it anymore.  It seems someone got     HERself a raise somewhere between here, and Four Corners. BL: Always my fault. LM: It seems that the four-way dance between Warnett, Quigley, Lebec and     Shakespeare may get even hotter.  But who is on what side? BL: Any chance we could schedule a "All Four Can Lose" match? ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Tiger Claw vs. Jumpin' Jack ------------------------------------------------------------------------     This one was over before it began.  Tiger Claw came ringside without     the Syndicate, but a look of determination on his face.  Jack started the match leaping of the ring ropes and directly into a spinning shin kick which not only allowed Tiger Claw the unopposed pin, but also broke the unfortunate clown's nose.  Claw wouldn't let paramedics come ringside until he had grabbed the ring mic and uttered the short phrase:  "Fossil, huh?" RESULT: Tiger Claw by Pinfall LM: Once again, Tiger Claw assum... [The one-man-band begins to play,     drowning out most of Larry's words] ...fight...im...kill....Derek     Motta. BL: I...w...poli...massive...in the art of...up! LM: ...when...with...child here! BL: But...unf....vasoline....violins...nort...Owens...[The one-man-band     stops playing] ...and that's the real reason that they call the city     'Bangkok'. LM: You sicken me. BL: But you still belong to my fan club. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Luke Steele vs. El Super Gecko ------------------------------------------------------------------------     Steele struggled at first with Gecko, matching up poorly against     the agile wrestler.  Shortly into the match, Otto Verhoeven came     ringside, exclaiming in a thick German accent that Steele really can't hurt the lizard.  Steele jumped the ring ropes and chased the big German.  Gecko might have gotten the countout, but chose to plancha dive the retreating Steele.  Gecko missed, and Steele dragged him into the ring, powerbombing him, them covering. RESULT: Luke Steele by pinfall LM: Steele meets Verhoeven on saturday. BL: You think I care?  ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ike Sampson vs. "Nifty" Ned Norton ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Ike Sampson passes a camera on his way towards the entrance curtain. He stops and says a few words:] IS: Byron, Otto, be ready for Saturday Night.  You get involved with the     Mad Dog again, I'm watching his back.  You mess with Mad Dog, you're     messing with the Big Dog!!  I'm comin' for ya! [Fade]     Norton chose to meet Sampson head on, but was taken by suprise when     Ike wrapped up a full nelson, abdominal stretch combo before bridging for a two count.  Sampson kept up this unorthodox mode of attack throughout the match, resorting to power moves when it became obvious that he couldn't think of a technical move to suit the situation. After a series of suplexes and takedowns, Sampson twisted his massive legs into a sloppy figure four and "Nifty" submitted. After the match, none other than Mad Dog Watkins came to the ring: [Cut to footage subtitled, "Earlier Tonight." "Kiss" by Prince blares out following Ike Sampson's vicotry over El Super Gecko.  Ike stands high above the crowd on the second turnbuckle, soaking up the great crowd reaction for all it's worth.  As he pumps his fists in the air to a group of fans at ringside, the crowd grows rumbles with uncertain anticipation as the figure of Mad Dog Watkins slides into the ring behind Sampson.  Watkins, clad in a new black Mad Dog t-shirt which reads "I'm not New Gen... I'm Old School!" and a faded old pair of blue jeans, abruptly rises to his feet, walks over to Sampson, and pulls him down from the turnbuckle.  Watkins and Sampson exchange a few words as the crowd falls silent in anticipation of what might happen next...] LM: [over the headset]  What in the world is Watkins doing out here? BL: [over the headset] Maybe he came to get revenge on Ike for the cheap     win on Saturday.  Allegiance means nothing to a man like Watkins... [Watkins can be heard to say "Just shut your mouth and listen", and then he turns away from Sampson and asks for the ring microphone.  Sparkplug Lee is quick to throw the mic to the veteran, who catches it adroitly and raises his hand to signal to the crowd that he has something to say.] MDW: The "Big Dog"... Not quite as angry as this old man, but damn      near as tough. [The crowd pops in appreciation of Sampson and his skills.] MDW: Bear with this ol' dag for a minute, if you will, 'cause I wanna      tell all of you a story...I was about to leave Olympic      Stadium last Saturday when I received word from Tim Dross that I got my shot at Byron come this Saturday Night. [The crowd pops at the announcement of the IC title matchup.  Watkins smirks a little, but raises his hand to calm the crowd.] MDW: And you know what -- I couldn't have been happier.  But as we hit the road to come down here to N'awlins, I got to thinkin'.  Thinkin' back to 1981 when I was a rook...wet behind the ears. I didn't know a whole hell of a lot except there was nothing like getting into the ring and going at it.  Course I got my tail kicked most nights, but that was part of it.  Back then if you were new blood, you were treated as fresh meat. The newest punk on the block who thought he knew too much and had to be taught otherwise.  And the lessons came in the ring courtesy of too many stiff right hands and shots to the head with steel chairs.      I didn't have no Steve Summers to hype me...Hell, I didn't even have anybody looking out for me to make sure that I survived through the night. Ain't like that no more... that's for damn sure. [Sampson places his hand on Watkins' shoulder and looks at him questioningly, trying to ascertain just what exactly Watkins is getting at.]      Men like Creed...Ike... they've got a great career ahead of them. They ain't gotta spend their prime years working their asses off just to get to the spotlight.  But it ain't that easy - there are things that they ain't gonna learn unless they get in there and scrap. My ol' tag partner Buttercup Ray Jones took me aside back in the day, kicked my ass, and then made me his partner.  Taught me everything I needed to know.  He took a chance on a young pup with nothing going for him but determination, put me in a World title match with him, and - lord knows how - we came home with the belts. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here today. Now I wasn't too keen when the pup and little doggie came askin' questions and seeking answers.  But driving here reminded me of Buttercup and what he did for me, and put everything in perspective. The pups want answers that I know, but can't give them... So Saturday...I get my first shot at gold here in the IIWF...      ...but I ain't taking it... [The crowd grumbles in a mixture of shock, surprise, and general confusion.] Nope.  I ain't ready.  I left the ring in Juarez staring up at the lights and with another "L" in the loss column.  That title shot don't belong to me... It's yours, Ike. [Sampson drops his jaw in shock, and begins shaking his head no.  His protests are cut off short by Watkins however, who shakes his head and continues.] Ain't nothing you can say gonna change my mind.  Paperwork's all complete and it's a done deal.  You...Byron...and the IC gold.  It's a make or break moment, kid.  All I can tell you is what Buttercup told me... Don't screw it up. [With that Watkins steps through the ropes, tosses the microphone back to the announcers' table, and heads for the back.  The crowd murmurs in confusion, and the shot fades out on a bewildered, yet excited Sampson who leans against the ropes watching Watkins pass throught the curtain and out of sight.  Fade.] RESULT: Ike Sampson by submission LM: Sampson showed, or at least tried to show, that he is more than just a powerhouse.  The arrival of Mad Dog proves that Steve Roberts' "Black Pack" is a myth.  Byron doesn't look happy about Sampson getting the title shot. BL: Please Larry, African American Alliance is a much more proper term. LM: You, a champion for civil rights? BL: Of course.  Some of my favorite sales help are African American. LM: What is your opinion on this match? BL: Just give Byron back his belt and be done with it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Pain Inc vs. Barnacle Brothers ------------------------------------------------------------------------     Pain Inc. had the match well in hand, toying with the sailors     and prolonging the bout longer than needed when Cold Spell came     ringside.  Pain Inc. braced for interference which never came as     The Zodiac Connection neatly intercepted them, brawling with Icehawk and Fitzgerald and giving Morninstar time to wrap up the pin.  At the three count, Cold Spell exchanged a few heated words with the Zodiacs before exiting backstage.  The Zodiacs only sent a glare the     celebrating Morningstar and Hellraiser's way before leaving. RESULT: Pain Inc by pinfall BL: What is that all about?  I can barely remember which tag team is which without having the Zodiacs defending Pain Inc, of all teams. LM: It's getting wild with the tag situation in the IIWF.  But maybe these words from the Zodiac Connection will make some sense of the matter. BL: I doubt it. [The Zodiac Connection return backstage:] TA: Gemini has instructed us to take our talents to an entirely new     level We are known as the greatest tag team champions to have ever     walked into an IIWF ring and now we are the greatest rap artists to     have wrestled as well. SC: Others have tried to do what comes naturally to the Zodiac     Connection.  Against Cold Spell, you will all see what else comes     naturally for the Zodiac Connection... winning! TA: And if some of you losers don't like the way we do it... we don't     care any more! [Fade] BL: They're talking about you again, Larry. LM: Um, Becky.  Would you stop your niece from going through my suit     pockets? BL: I think she has a crush on you, Larry. LM: [momentarily flattered]  She's taking all my spare change! BL: Shhhh!  Don't stifle her creativity.  She's developing valuable     skills she'll need later in life. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Violence Unlimited vs. High Plains Drifters ------------------------------------------------------------------------     Between the non-existent tags, the brawling outside the ring and     the illegal moves, referee Chuck Sanders was exhausted.  Violence     Unlimited stayed in constant motion, with quick tags and constant     attempts to distract the ref.  The Drifters countered by double     teaming and the attempted use of a chair.  At one point the crowd     began a chant of "rookies... rookies" which appeared to annoy     Jaguar and Mutilator.   Finally, the High Plains Drifters got the     upper hand, stunning Jaguar long enough to set for the "Hang 'em     High" clothesline.  But at the last moment, Jag was able to tilt-a-     whirl off Easy's shoulders and Pale crashed onto his partner.     Mutilator covered his partner while Jaguar made the pin.     Immediately thereafter, Violence Unlimited left for the dressing rooms only to be confronted by Cold Spell in the aisle.  Icehawk grabbed the house mic and suggested Violence Unlimited showed some guts and sign a contract for a _real_ match:  No back-jumping, no outside interference, no one else at ringside. RESULT: Violence Unlimited by pinfall LM: The only way Cold Spell will get a fair match from VU will be in a     cage. BL: Excuse me?  Cold Spell should talk.  Aren't they the ones who pal     around with *ahem* Genesis? VL: [BLEEP]s! BL: That's right, dear. LM: Rumor has it that Violence Unlimited is getting tired of being lumped in with the "New Generation" and want to prove themselves on their own merit. BL: Beating the Drifters will do that for you.  Hey, what's up, big guys? Don't follow RSR into oblivion!  Do you need Becky to come around and inspire you? ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Duncan Macbeth vs. Edmund Fitzgerald ------------------------------------------------------------------------     Fitzgerald came ringside with Icehawk, but his partner took a seat. Fitz opened the match by shaking hands, and Macbeth accepted.     Macbeth, slightly smaller than his opponent, kept the pace constant,     attempting to wear down Fitzgerald's tremendous endurance and picking his spots.  Macbeth kept his attacks low, knocking Fitz to the mat, working the knee, then breaking clean.  Fitzgerald worked his standard stratagy, waiting for the Scot to make a mistake, which he finally did by diving off the ropes only to be caught in a bearhug.  Only the ring ropes broke the hold.  The two wrestled for 13 minutes, Fitzgerald starting to wind and Macbeth suffering a variety of mat burns, when Duncan landed a missle dropkick which propelled Fitzgerald over top rope.  Fitz landed rather loudly only ring steps and could not get his bearings before the final ten count.  Fitzgerald again offered his hand to Macbeth, who again accepted.      RESULT: Duncan Macbeth by countout. LM: Afterwards, Macbeth whispered something to ring announcer Sparkplug     Lee who, despite his own protests, made the following announcement. [Cut to footage subtitled, "Earlier Tonight." Sparkplug stands in the ring with Macbeth, a throng of cheering fans surround the ring and fill the New Orleans streets.] RA: Here is your winner...[Lee glances nervously at Macbeth, who     stares him down]... and... the NEXT Intercontinental Champion...     Duncan Macbeth! [The crowd pops and Macbeth saunters off.] BL: If he's the next IC champ then I'm a virgin.  [There is a loud pop     from the overwhelming number of cross-dressing Becky LaRue fan     club members.]  And what is with Duncan Macbeth of the Clan Macbeth?     That's three times in three weeks we've seen him, and again on     Saturday.  FAN CLUB:  Shoot Becky, Shoot! BL: I'd rather you just shot Larry. LM: Hey! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Showstopper" Simon Lebec vs. Danny Dynamite ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The "Showstopper" Simon Lebec stands in the locker room in his wrestling attire ahead of his match with Danny Dynamite] SL: Danny Dynamite?  What the hell is this?  Pal, you're gonna need all     the dynamite in this world in order to pin my shoulders to the mat!     I've proven to the world that I'm a winner, and I don't necessarily     have to be sober to do it!  Quigley knows what I'm all about.  I     gave that little brat Warnett the spanking of his pathetic life!     And Shakespeare... he'll be quoting Willy's tragedies all night long     if he ever steps near me again!  And Dynamite... you'll be no     different from the others.  Maybe just a little easier, that's all.     $100 says I don't even break a sweat!  $200 says you'll be crying to     mommy, begging the rotten whore to tell the bad man not to pound you     anymore!  And $300... heh... $300 says I'll be pounding on mommy     after the match... once she falls under the spell of "The     Showstopper"!  Make way, Danny Boy, 'cause step-daddy's back in the     IIWF, and he's coming home! [Fade]     There was more posturing than wrestling as the two self-proclaimed     God's gifts to women circled the ring.  Dynamite finally spotted a buxom blonde, yelling out his hotel number to her.  Lebec claimed priority, then added a comment about Danny's mother.  Dynamite launched with a number of spin moves and kicks.  Lebec fought back with suplex variations.  Lebec finally managed 'The Antagonist' step over toe hold.  The referee never saw Simon leveraging on the ropes, and Dynamite surrendered. RESULT:  Lebec by submission. LM: Lebec, unfortunatly, backed up his claims.  Surprisingly, neither Warnett, Quigley nor Shakespeare made an appearance. BL: Hey, Dynamite, are you in this federation? LM: Do you think little Vicki would mind if I picked her up? BL: I guess it's okay.  But if you offer her candy you'll be singing     falsetto. LM: She IS potty trained, isn't she? BL: Of course. LM: Our next match was...[Larry comes to an abrupt stop as he realizes     what that warm feeling is running down his leg.  He lifts the child     and grimaces.  He hands Vicki to Becky]  I thought you said she was     potty-trained! BL: What makes you think that was an accident? ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Sychosys" Joe Petrow vs. Harlequin Tragedy ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: It is late and all of the lights are out. Tragedy can be seen only because of the moonlight shining from outside.] HT: Joseph, there are a lot of reasons why I don't like you. [Clip of the Petrow/Kowalski match at Birthday Bash flashes by.] HT: The fact that you are in part responsible for Steve's suspension. [Clip of Petrow nailing Melody with her boom box.] HT: The fact that you assaulted one of my own. [Clip of Maurice McArthur being put through various acts of degradation.] HT: The fact that you have no respect for human life or dignity. [Clip of Takezo Musashi joining up with Petrow.] HT: And the fact that you have turned a man I once respected into a     mockery of his former self. All of these are good reasons for me to     dislike you but there is one thing. One single solitary reason that     I despise you, Joseph. And that's the fact that you are still     breathing. But not for long. [Fade]     The mind games started well before the combatants entered the ring.      Tragedy came ringside acompanied not by Comedy, but rather Melody, who sported a boombox and wore a t-shirt reading "Joe Petrow, Question Mark?"   Tragedy dressed all in black, not decked in his familiar face and showing the scars on his face.  He never once removed his sunglasses of trenchcoat, even when the match began.  Petrow stepped from where he reclined all night in the crowd equally dressed in black.  Similarly attired was "Majestic" Maurice McArthur who accompanied Petrow to the ring, all the while fondling a small     container which he kept hidden.  As soon as they began their approach, the Sychopath With The Boombox began to play "Melody" by "Weird" Al Yankovic, and the match got underway. Tradegy dictated the pace of the match, applying submission holds to counter the suprising number of oriental kicks and tilt-a-whirl combinations that Petrow attempted.  Both men threatened aerial maneuvers, but never attempted one.  The turning point came when Tragedy tried to Skullpump a suprised Petrow.  But Petrow got in a DDT which stunned the Harlequin and broke his glasses.  Melody took that opportunity to play "Don't Fear the Reaper" on her boom box. Distracted, Petrow tried to grab the box, only to have the electronics smashed over his head.  McArthur immediatly stepped in, revealing the canister in his palm and delivering Melody a face full of Mace.  The crowd went wild, and Harlequins Chaos and Comedy rushed ringside only to be maced in turn.  Through his tears, Comedy managed to deliver a Happy Hammer blow to between 3M's legs, and he droped to the apron in pain.  Meanwhile, in the ring, Petrow managed a hanging figure five around the ring post, both men yelling in pain outside the ring as the ref made the double count out.  Petrow quickly escaped through his fans. RESULT: Double count out. LM: An unusual amount of violence in this match. BL: You mean "the usual amount of wrestling"? LM: I meant what I said. BL: Your fly is open. LM: Huh? Where?  Oh, it is not.  Next week we'll be coming at you from     somewhere on the east coast.  Even we don't know.  Washington D.C.     perhaps? BL: Vicki, would you like to say goodbye? VL: Aunt Becky needs a raise! BL: Good girl. LM: Good night. [A giant Mardi Gras head appears in the crowd.  Larry sees it and begins to break out in a cold sweat.  The technicians begin to dismantle the set, slowly prying Larry's fingers away from the broadcast table.  Becky's fans lift her up on their shoulders and spirit her off into the night.] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= I * I * W * F =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+ | President: Daniel Spreadbury | Vice-President: Jim Jividen | | univ0322@sable.ox.ac.uk | brokeback@webtv.net | | iiwf@sisko.demon.co.uk | | +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- http://www.sisko.demon.co.uk -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+