[A longshot of the Statue of Liberty standing proudly in New York Harbor. Suddenly the music turns dour as a computerized wrestler, wearing tights and an evil sneer, splashes through the harbor with malicious intent. Lady Liberty smashes her stone tablet over the villain's head, then lifts him for a massive powerslam.  He sinks slowly beneath the waves.  There is heard the whistle of a falling bomb and the screen explodes into flame. From the inferno spins a familiar logo:]                #####      ######    ###           ##########              ########## ########## ####       ##  ##########              ########## ########## ####  #   #### ########                #####      #####    #### ##  ##### ####                 ####       ####    #### ### ####  ####                 ####       ####    ############# #########                 ####       ####     ########### #########                 ####       ####     ####  ####   ####              #########  #########   ###   ####   ####              #########  #########   ###    ##    ####               ########   ########   ##      #    ####              =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ## =-=-=-=                            W E D N E S D A Y                /////////          +            \\\\\\\\\                            W A R     R O O M              =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=                       * LiVE! * from Ellis Island                              New York City              ----------------- 2 July 1997 ----------------- [The camera pans down the huge receiving area of the Ellis Island port of immigration.  It dances around columns and past a temporary wrestling ring.  It comes to rest on Larry Morton and Becky LaRue.  Larry wears a "New York Jets" cap, Becky wears a t-shirt bearing the logo of two green eyes, dark shadows of wrestlers serving as their pupils, the legend "Becky" scrawled below.] LM: Welcome to the War Room.  In the spirit of "homecomings" that the     Coronation Clash Crusade has been bringing you, we decided to     broadcast from where it began for so many: Ellis Island. BL: Maybe for you, but not me.  The LaRues settled in New Orleans after     many successful years ferrying unskilled labor from Africa to the     South. LM: "Unskilled labor"?!   Your family were slave traders! BL: What?  You want me to apologize? LM: I'm at a loss for words. BL: You should be used to that by now. LM: You act as if you're proud of your family's past.  BL: I come from a long line of exploiting others for maximum gain. And think of the advantages. Tony Starks would never have had a chance     to be... LM: [interrupting]  Enough!  Enough. People, I apologize for everything     Becky just said. BL: Larry, don't ever interrupt me again. LM: I understand that you spent some time on Broadway this last week. BL: I kept fearing that Billy Shakespeare would show up. LM: [Singing] # Memories... Midnight at the oa-sis... # BL: Never, never sing again. LM: Interesting shirt there. BL: Thank you.  It's from the new "Broadway Becky" collection.  This is     the other. [She holds up a shirt bearing a waifish drawing of Becky     and the legend "Les Ms."] LM: I, on the other hand, took in the sights of New York: The Empire State Building, Rockerfeller Center, Giant Stadium... BL: Macy's, Gimbals, Saks... LM: Let's recap tonight's action. BL: Did you see Jimmy Hoffa at Giant's Stadium? ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Scott Rogers vs. Scott "the Whine" Bloom ------------------------------------------------------------------------     This match was forever in getting started as Rogers took his time     coming ringside, stopping often to slap hands with the fans, sign     autographs, and at one point crawled over the crowd barrier to have     his picture taken with a baby.  Finally, due to "The Whine's"     protests, the referee forced Rogers to enter or forfeit.  From that     point on, the match was all Scott Rogers, who dealt out a variety     of power moves to his opponent, before finishing him off with his     belly-to-back finisher.  Midway through the bout, Requiem and     Highwayman looked on from the backstage entrance.  Rogers noticed     them, and made a point of displaying his power wrestling abilities,     each time looking towards Genesis for some form of approval.  The     two left before the final pin. RESULT: Scott Rogers by pinfall. LM: I'm not sure what Scott Rogers' motivation is.  Does he want to join Genesis, or just impress them? BL: It looks like a case of a "school-boy" crush. LM: We'll find out this saturday when Rogers faces the "Principal" of     Genesis, Requiem, in the Coronation Clash Tournament. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Enigma" Takezo Musashi vs. "Majestic" Maurice McArthur ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ["Sychosys" Joe Petrow and "Majestic" Maurice McArthur stand together, strangely enough, in a gym.  Both men are wearing simple tights, and sweating, apparently following a sparring session together.  Triple M is very agitated, but Petrow has a straight, almost jaded look to him.] 3M: Joe, do you believe this man, do you believe this crap?  Next to     you, I'm the hottest thing going in the IIWF, yet the biggest     tournament in history is going down without me!?  Well, Musashi,     you're gonna pay!  I'm gonna beat you to so bad you have to drop     out of the tournament, and I'm gonna take your place!  You're     gonna pay for messing with us!  Then you... [Petrow gives Triple M an icy glare, that seems to put him in his place, and his speaking stops.  Then Petrow speaks in a low monotone.] JP: Takezo Musashi, why does it have to be this way?  Take a good look.     I am not your enemy.  Everyone else is.  And we share the same     enemy.  They've stolen your spirit, and they continue to try to     take away the heart and soul [points to Maurice] of this man.  You     and Maurice are grown men;  your battles are your own.  But if you     turn to me for an answer Musashi, you might not find the answer that     you're looking for.  But it's the right answer.  I know.  And when     your journey is complete, you'll know why.     Oh, a word to our oppressors.  You got a problem with Joe Petrow,     you don't have Soundbite throw out obscure shoot comments.  You come     to us.  We ain't hard to find. [Petrow and Maurice turn to walk away, but Petrow abruptly turns back.] JP: Don't worry, prez.  We'll get the "job" done all right... [Petrow sneers and walks away. Fade.]     As could be expected, this one started off strange, and just got     weirder.  MacArthur and Joe Petrow entered the ring from where they     were watching with the "Sychopaths".   Maurice was dressed in simple     black trunks and boots; Petrow, however, was adorned in a huge grey     trenchcoat covered with literally hundreds of buckles and straps.  His face was painted grey with a series of vertical black and white     stripes.  Maurice warmed up for the fight in one corner, Petrow just     stood mid-ring staring at his right hand.  Slowly he made his way     into the aisle, hanging his head and looking at the floor.  Musashi     appeared the instant that his music began, shooting out to where     Petrow stood, dealing knife-edge blows which Petrow accepted without     retaliation.  Finally the "Enigma" delivered a scissor leg drop which buckled Petrow's knees, the whole time never lifting his eyes to his attacker.  Finally 3M couldn't take this abuse of his partner and tossed Musashi into the ring to start the bout.  From there, Musashi disected Majestic Maurice with spin kicks and high-flying moves. 3M tried to get in some offense, but his attention wandered as he continued to appeal for help from Petrow who stood ringside, but did not enter the ring.  Finally, 3M went down and the "Enigma" spun off the top rope with the Starsault Press and the pin.  Immediately after, Petrow dove into the ring, unexpectedly locking up Musashi in the "clincher," a hold seen before in his match against the Subway Psycho.  Disregarding the "Enigma"'s attempts to     escape, Petrow kept yelling, "That's it, get it out of your system!" and "Now LISTEN to me!  It's not me you want, it's them!"  Despite his orders to the contrary, McArthur took this opportunity to deliver some kicks to Musashi, and Petrow was forced to release the hold to stop his partner.  The two escaped in to the crowd of Sychopaths as security carted off the raving Musashi. RESULT: Musashi by pinfall. LM: Plenty of fireworks already from this match, and it's not even the     fourth yet. BL: Too bad that you're such a dud. LM: On a side note, "The Enigma" was locked in the dressing room with     security so that he could not interfere in Petrow's match.  That may     have been the remedy for this evening, but what are they going to on     Saturday when Musashi faces the "Cavalier" and Petrow faces Billy     Shakespeare? BL: Maybe they'll lock him in a room with Steve Roberts and let     "Soundbite's" ever-growing ego crush them to death. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Sychosys" Joe Petrow vs. El Super Gecko ------------------------------------------------------------------------     Petrow crawled out from his hoards once again, still wearing the     buckled coat and face paint.  The Gecko started the match off quickly, throwing himself off the ropes and landing the flying dropkick.  Meeting no retatilation from Petrow, he executed a headscissor take-over following with a tilt-a-whirl armtoss.  Confused by the fact that Petrow was not fighiting back, El Gecko showboated to the crowd.  Immediately Petrow was on his feet, shoving his fingers in Gecko's mouth and applying a mandible claw.  Gecko choked for a few moments, foaming at the mouth. Petrow then lifted the suffocating Lizard by the head for a Mandible Claw Slam, then covered for the count. Petrow then grabbed the ring mic: [Footage of Joe Petrow in the ring, holding a microphone, El Super Gecko flopping around on the mat behind him:] JP: Saturday night, Billy Shakespeare is the first to fight the forces     of destiny.  Billy, despite some of the comments I've heard from you     about me, I have nothing personal with you.  I hope we have a great     match.  But if a certain person shows up, I promise you that ring     will turn into a new kind of hell.  And I ain't talking about     Musashi. [He puts down the mic and exits the ring.]     It didn't take long for Billy Shakespeare to come ringside, and the     two wrestlers had a brief staredown before Petrow climbed over the     barrier and in amongst the Sychopaths.  Shakespeare reached under his shirt and there was a brief gasp as he withdrew a foreign object.  The gasps turned to musings of wonder as he took out a camera, focusing it on the Sychopaths and taking their picture.  Shakespeare then climbed into the ring and aided the gasping Gecko in his exit. RESULT: Petrow by pinfall. LM: Petrow versus Shakespeare this Saturday. BL: Becky versus Larry in about ten minutes. LM: As opposed to Becky versus the entire cast of "Phantom" last night? [There is a shriek of pain as Becky does something unseen.  Video quickly goes to the recap segment.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Highwayman vs. Bobby B. Goode ------------------------------------------------------------------------     Highwayman's entrance lacked his usual energy.  Despite the playing     of "Stand and Deliver", his demeanor  was darker, moodier and more     focused.  He entered the ring, glaring holes through the ref and     Bobby B. Goode.  At the bell, Highway went for the lockup, but     instead switched to a haymaker which spun Goode around, and positioned him for the deadly "Daylight Robbery".  After the three count, Highwayman simply walked out, no ceremony, no emotion and oblivious to the cheers of the crowd. RESULT: Highwayman by pinfall. LM: [Despite the tears in his eyes] I'm not sure how to read... BL: [Interupting]  Illiterate. LM: ...how to read Highwayman's lack of expression. Is it concentration?     Focus?  Some deep concerns about Genesis? BL: Who cares? LM: And what about his in the ring performance?  Was this a message to     Nightwing, who he faces in three days?  Or just an attempt to show     the "suits" that he is ready to become a contender? BL: Maybe he's just a man who doesn't like wasting his time with the likes of Bobby B. LM: Stop being petulant.  The floor manager will give you back your high     heels after the broadcast. BL: She better, or so help me, Morton, I'll Tyson your ear faster than you can say "Mommy". ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Otto "the Butcher" Verhoeven vs. Jumpin' Jack ------------------------------------------------------------------------    This bout was more notable for what went on after than during.     Verhoeven entered ringside with his European teammate Lord Byron.    He destroyed his overmatched clowning opponent with power moves before resorting to the "Slaughterslam" as almost an afterthought.  That's when Creed entered and things got interesting. [Cut to footage captioned, "Earlier Tonight." As Verhoeven exits the ring, the heel reaction dramatically changes into a frenzied face pop as the red-gloved rookie Creed appears from the wings.  Creed purposely strides to ringside and goes face-to-face with the European Alliance.  Byron smirkingly motions Otto aside and then tosses a microphone to Creed, whose black t-shirt sports only one blood red word, "PAYBACK."   The intense rookie gives off the sense of a man with a very tenuous grip on his ability to reason.] CREED: I...I want to give you a chance, Byron... I want to give you a chance to explain what you said on Monday.  And I want to give you that chance right now. [The crowd pops as the larger than life image of Lord Byron is now projected onto the ringside video wall.  It is a tape of the Intercontinental Champion's sneering "Monday Musings" interview...] LB: After Coronation Clash, when the dust settles and you find yourself     once again wracked in pain and staring up at the arena lights, I'll     not only have finished your career here, rookie, because I will make     sure that you never step into a wrestling ring again!     And you'll have time to go back to Oakland with your tail between your legs, rookie, you'll have to limp up that small grassy hill and knee down next to your mother's grave and tell her that you failed again, just like _your_ daddy!! [The "boos" from the crowd are enormous as the lights again rise and Creed again shakily addresses the smirking Byron.] CREED: See, I think it important to separate what go on in the ring... with what go on in my life.  And I know you maybe get a little hot, Byron, maybe your judgment's not all it could be.     So, what I need to say to you Byron is that you do whatever you gotta do with me.  You want tear my knee... cheap shot me.  You do that. You think we gotta go at the Clash... we do that.  You ready for one of us to pack up and leave the IIWF... let's go.  I am all about that, Byron.     But you ever _EVER_ talk about my momma again... you_EVER_ talk about my momma again and I will hurt you in ways you never dreamed about. [The crowd grows eerily hushed as Byron smirkingly moves only inches from Creed's face, the young superstar not taking a backstep as his left gloved hand begins twitching noticeably.] LB: Why would I soil these lips with talk of trash like your ill-bred,     ill dead mother? Even the likes of Mad Dog Watkins found little use     for her -- except for the obvious... [The crowd screams as Creed thoroughly loses control, leaping atop Lord Byron and ramming his head into the floor!  Verhoeven nails Creed with a series of tremendous forearms to the back to the head... but the red-gloved rookie seems not to feel them, continuing to batter the Intercontinental Champion into the floor! The Butcher grabs a ringside chair -- and bashes Creed over the head with consecutive resoundingly stiff shots, dropping him solidly to the floor and allowing Byron to scramble to his feet.  The blue blood angrily lays into Creed with a series of boots and then motions to Otto to finish him off. The Butcher grabs the red gloved rookie around the throat... lifting him high into the air and driving him down over the chair with a throttling chokeslam! Byron yells, "Again! Again!" and Verhoeven grabs at the rookie... pausing a moment... Otto pausing a moment to look at Lord Byron -- and then rocks Creed down again, the sound of his back snapping over the steel causing more than a few in attendance to involuntarily gag with disgust at the display. Byron points at Creed a third time... motioning for the Butcher to send him... to send him over the barriers and into the crowd!  Otto stares hard at the Intercontinental Champion, who is almost frothing at the mouth as he kicks the fallen rookie in the ribs.  The former Heavyweight Champion leans down to grab Creed... and is then blindsided by Mad Dog Watkins and Ike Sampson, the two men brawling with the European Alliance and driving them back away from Creed and then out of view. The "Pay-Back! Pay-Back!" chants fill the air as Watkins and Sampson lift their comrade and carry him from ringside.]         RESULT: Verhoeven by pinfall. LM: Amazing!  These two men are out of the tournament, and Verhoeven's match is still to come, but that doesn't stop them from getting involved in what may be the most dramatic match of them all at Coronation Clash.  Either Creed or Lord Byron will be gone from the IIWF! BL: I'm more interested in the soap opera of "all in the family".  Masked Avenger claims to be someone' s brother... Byron suggests that Mad Dog and Creed have the ultimate paternal relationship.   Now I hear that Larry Morton is secretly engaged to Duncan MacBeth. LM: It could all be true, you know.  Hey, wait, what was that last one     again? ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Machines vs. Licensed for Devastation ------------------------------------------------------------------------     The sides were even in this match of two newcomers to the IIWF.  Well-matched in size and ability, neither team was able to get the     upper hand.  Towards the end, The Nightriders came down to scout     the new teams.  After administering a cheap shot eye gouge, LFD's     Reggie Starr was thrown over the ring ropes.  Unbeknownst to him, J.P. Steele of the Nightriders looped a mic cord around his ankle,     preventing him from getting back into the ring in time to beat the     ten count.  This set off Jonathan Chaos and LFD got into a brief     brawl with the Nightriders before security could clear them. [Cut to footage subtitled, "Earlier Tonight." Starr and Chaos stand at the top of the aisle, having been eliminated by the Nightriders. J.P. Steele grabs a microphone and begins to speak:] STEELE: Hey, Johnny, how ya' like that? Feel good? Buddy, I heard the         hotline.  The Nightriders wanting out? [smirks] Man, we just got         here. The fun's only just begun. Soundbite's just tryin' to stir         the pot, and guess what -- it worked.  But let me just announce         that The Nightriders are not goin' anywhere... except all over         Liscensed for Devastation. Them, and Violence Ulimited, one of         these days. HAWK: Ya, yeah... what he said! We're here to stay, gosh darnit. All       these funky teams like Cold Spell, the Harlequins, they're not       very spiffy. J.P. and I are. [big pop] Yeah! Jimmy Hawk on the       mic. Don't you like it? STEELE: Jimmy, you're embarrassing me. Sheesh, can't you act _normal_.         LFD, I'll make it short and sweet. After Coranation Clash has         run its course, we want you in the ring. Is that simple enough?         [pop!] HAWK: Reggie... you're one nutty guy. But I'm the friggin' cashew, pal. STEELE: Oh, and Chaos... you're mine, bud. Get ready for a hell of a         tough time. [Cut back to the studio as security pour down the aisle and prevent the teams from going at it again.] RESULT: Machines by countout. LM: See... see, I told you that the tag ranks would begin to heat up. BL: What do you want, a lollypop? LM: Actually, yes.  One would taste quite nice right now.  You wouldn't     mind getting me... [Becky glares at him]  Maybe not.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Pain Inc. vs. Hollywood Bloods ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The camera opens to the Hollywood Bloods driving into the arena parking lot in a red Ford Viper. Clark Watson is driving while Doug Wayne is in the passenger seat.  The car pulls into a space and a group of reporters rush to the car.  Doug Wayne gets out and opens the trunk while Watson just sits in the driver's seat.  The reporters begin to ask questions.] Reporter #1: Bill Star, PWI. How are you guys going to attempt to defeat              Pain Inc. tonight? DW: [gives the reporter a dirty look] We aren't going to attempt     nothing, little man.  We are going to beat the snot out of those     B-movie rejects.  Attempt my ass!  The only people attempting     anything is going to be the paramedics attempting to put Pain Inc.'s     fat asses on the stretcher after we're done with them. Reporter #2: John Graham, ESPN sports. Do you have any concerns about              the Dark Disciples getting involved in your match ? DW: If those washed up has-beens want to get involved in our match,     bring it on.  We'll take Pain Inc. and the Disciples all out in one     night.  Then the suits can find another team for us to tear apart at     the Clash.  As a matter of fact, if any of their former gang members     wanna come on down and put us in the middle of a gang war, let     them.  We'll beat the hell out of all of them.  Then the IIWF can     thank us for getting rid of all the filth stinkin' up the place. Reporter #3: Mr. Watson, why are you so quiet this evening ? DW: Clark does not talk to scum such as yourselves.  He doesn't want to     be lowered to your intellectual level.  You people frankly disgust     him.  I have the unfortunate task of dealing with you losers.  Now     get the hell out of my face. Reporter #4: Hi, I'm from WXRK Radio.  Do you think that the IIWF should              bring in some midget wrestlers? DW: What kind of question is that? Wait a second, you're that stuttering     idiot from the Howard Stern show! [Doug Wayne picks up Stuttering John and bodyslams him on the concrete. He then grabs a camera from a camera man and slams it down onto his back. All the reporters and cameramen flee the area.] [fade to footage subtitled, "Earlier Tonight." Mr.Mic stands in the IIWF interview area. He is displaying a psychotic smile from ear to ear as he rub his hands together. He speaks to the camera.] MM: It's almost time. Hollywood Bloods, you are about to become the     victims of Pain Inc.'s newest hobby. Words won't do justice to     describe the tragedy that will befall you. Remember you brought this     upon yourselves, and frankly we at Pain Inc. thank you. We were     going to choose a guinea pig but you two "more-guts-than-brains"     twins offered your services. You may be blond now, but we'll turn     your hair white. Tick tock, Bloods... tick tock... [Fade]     Brawling replaced wrestling in this one.  Pain, Inc. were looking     to make an example of the Bloods, while they in turn wanted to show     that they could compete with the big boys.  The Hollywood Bloods     showd an amazing assortment of karate kicks and preferred to take their opponents outside where they could utilize chairs and the ring     barrier. Both teams worked the strategy of pinning their opponent in the corner and double teaming him.  At one such point, with Morningstar sagging in the corner and Wayne and Watson tugging     desperately at his head trying to unmask him, Mr. Mic jumped to the     apron, yelling at, and distracting, the ref.  Morningstar immediately pulled a metel thumb guard from his tights, dropping Watson with an Asian Spike.  This prompted Wayne to pull a pair of brass knuckles from his own tights, missing a swing on Morningstar.  Meanwhile, Hellraiser had maneuvered a table into the ring, hoisting Watson up for a powerbomb, Morningstar finished off the "Simply Pain" by spiking Watson off his partner and through the awaiting table.  Mr Mic was practically screaming, "Dark Disciples, here is your crystal ball! Make 'em pay, boys!"  This brought the diverted referee's attention back to the match, saw the table, and signalled for the bell. The Dark Disciples rushed ringside, locking up with Pain, Inc. Taking that time to recover, the Bloods then got in the middle of the fray, swinging the brass knuckles and clearing the ring of both teams. The Hollywood Bloods celebrated while security dragged Pain, Inc. and the Disciples backstage. RESULT: Hollywood Bloods by DQ. LM: Bad... bad blood in that ring tonight. BL: I'm more suprised at the new set of teeth that the Hollywood Bloods     have grown.  Maybe I judged these boys wrong. LM: Frankly, I think their tactics are despicable. BL: Dirty, mean and nasty, as the t-shirt says. LM: That is all for this evening Becky, and that's all for us until the     23rd of July.  Any thoughts about the road? BL: Oh, I loved it.  Staying in second rate hotels, listening to you     snoring through paper thin walls... Steve Roberts trying to pick up the teen-aged motel help... Tim Dross downing a bottle of Wild Turkey and regaling us with war stories of the "Good-old-days" of wrestling commentary. I just loved sucking diesel fumes at the back of the bus while Steve Summer cleaned his toenails with a paperclip. I'll treasure those  mind-numbing excursions to see the local sights along the way:  Gator Land... Smokey the Bear's grave... a diner where Elvis once worked... the world's biggest ball of mud... the birthplace of the ratchet... LM: Personally, I found the world's biggest ball of mud quite informative. BL: Oh, and the part I _really_ loved:  Eating waffles every morning     because Tim Dross controls the company charge card. LM: Yes, these memories will last a lifetime. BL: Thank for reminding me.  But at least this week lay off will give me     a chance to prepare my makeup for the Coronation Clash PPV on the     12th. LM: Um, Becky... I've got some bad news.  You won't be announcing at the     Clash. BL: WHAT!  You sneaking little [BLEEP]!  First you off Jackson Dewitt     and now _I'M_ out.  It is a power play you want Morton?  I'm out     of this federation as of now.  Get my agent.  Call the IHIW!  [Becky exits off camera, still ranting, her complaints echoing off the walls.] LM: This Saturday night will be a matchup that we never thought we'd see, Casey James meeting Tiger Claw in the Coronation Clash Tournament. Folks, we decided to get some thoughts directly from the source for this big inter-Syndicate match, and we have, via satellite, Brian Lau. [Lau's face appears on the big screen.] Brian? Thanks for joining us. [Brian shrugs.] LM: Brian, your two main men, Tiger Claw and Casey James, are facing each other this Saturday. Have you decided who you will favour? BL: Larry, you know, it astonishes me how the broadcasters of the IIWF can carry on their business in such bad taste. Why is it that I must     favour anyone? Why is it that I have to pick one or the other?     Pointing the finger past the broadcasters to the administration, why     is it that this match even has to take place? It's a plot to try and     break the Syndicate. It's common knowledge that the suits in the IIWF have been against me since day one. LM: What? How can you say that? The Syndicate has been one of the     strongest forces in the IIWF! BL: That is because I am _very_ good at what I do. I played their little     game, only I'm better at it than they are. They want to hold me back? Then I'll use any means necessary to get what I want. How do you think that I got Tiger Claw the IC title? How do you think I got him his rematches when he lost that title? I have had to use every little trick that I know in order to get my men ahead here, and now the suits pull this. Casey James is the former IIWF World champion, and he still has to go through the preliminaries like everyone else? Have you ever heard of such a crock before in your life? James should be placed at least in the second or third round. And then to place him against Tiger Claw? This is definitely some kind of plan to cause trouble. LM: Brian, the placements were drawn randomly. BL: Give me a break, Morton... If you honestly believe that these matches were drawn randomly, then you are truly and monumentally stupid. Have you never heard of rigging a draw? Do you have any idea what the odds are against Tiger Claw and Casey James meeting in a first round match? Believe me, they are not very good. It's this type of thing that makes me wonder why we bother. LM: We have heard rumors of you and your men leaving the IIWF. I'm     assuming this is not true? BL: It was considered, but to leave now would be like giving in to the     administration that seeks to wipe us out. No... We are staying, Casey and Claw will be at Saturday Night, and I'll have an announcement to make. LM: One last thing. Why isn't Danny Dynamite in the tournament? It would     seem that you're not making as much effort with him as with your other guys. BL: I should have known you'd turn _that_ into something that causes     friction. Why don't you sit there with that stupid tie and your blank stare and shut the hell up? All will be clear on Saturday Night. That is all. [Brian gets up and walks out of the shot, leaving Larry looking at a blue screen.  Larry sits there for a moment then draws his finger across his throat to signal off camera to end the show.  The credits begin to roll.  Becky LaRue steps in front of the camera.] BL: They better not be planning on having me shilling Official IIWF     Coronation Clash Bubble Bath!  Owens... how can you do this too me?     Even after I did that Clemson Football thing for you... [Fade] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+