##### ###### ### ########## ########## ########## #### ## ########## ########## ########## #### # #### ######## ##### ##### #### ## ##### #### #### #### #### ### #### #### #### #### ############# ######### #### #### ########### ######### #### #### #### #### #### ######### ######### ### #### #### ######### ######### ### ## #### ######## ######## ## # #### =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ## =-=-=-= M + O + N + D + A + Y M + U + S + I + N + G + S =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 28 July 1997 ----------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Requiem ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: The IIWF interview area. Requiem enters, wearing an immaculate -- and expensive -- black three-piece suit, the IIWF championship belt draped over one shoulder.] RQ: How is Gabrielle, Phoenix? She is well. She is very well. You can ask her yourself soon enough, for I have received word that she is coming home. You know all my "weaknesses"? Clearly the addition of the "Phoenix Spirit" has addled your mind.         Little warrior, it is clear to me that I did not know you as well as     I thought, but it is clearer still that you do not know me at all.         Doubtless, after Saturday, you and all the other IIWF superstars     expect me to swear eternal vengeance or some such. That will not     happen. Saturday night was an irrelevance, for Genesis stood to lose     nothing, save for the IIWF Tag Team belts, which were always in good     hands. Saturday was a pleasant diversion, but by no means of     consequence.         As for my match? I said it before Saturday, and I'll say it again:     The money, and so the victory, meant _nothing_, Genesis is all. Creed, I went into that match hoping for nothing more than the opportunity to get my hands on you...         Mission accomplished. Creed, I have tested your mettle. Be sure that     what I have learnt will be passed along to Adam Smith...    [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Creed ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Mere moments following the wild conclusion of the brutal Champion vs. Champion vs. Champion ladder match which concluded IIWF Saturday Night -- the red-gloved Intercontinental Champion, Creed, stands in the IIWF interview area.  A mixture of perspiration and blood flows freely from his body in a manner seen only in the holiest of Roman warriors... and from superstars in the IIWF.] CREED: I know I gonna take heat for this... but hell, anyone who paying attention over the last eight months know if there anything Creed about -- Creed about heat... Hey Gimmick!  Hey Gimmick!  Last time I met you -- you a good guy.  This time -- you a bad guy.  But there one thing that don't change, Gimmick -- one thing that don't never change... It always good to kick your ass, Gimmick.  It's somethin' I never get tired of. You and your crew enjoy your little dance... you enjoy being the barkingest dogs on the porch... And you enjoy wearin' what is now the number two belt in the IIWF!  And everybody know it. Unique... you all right, bra.  I send you the other half of this check. You earned it. Oh, Gimmick... one more thing... that ripoff finishing move of yours -- the flying bomb.  You can keep usin' it -- don't matter to me none at all.  Jus' do me a favor and learn the name, Gimmick.  Learn the name. Goodnight.  Farewell. Amen. Got it, Gimmick?  And if you ever need another 'minder...I ain't tough to find.  But I am impossible to stop. [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Dirt Dog Unique Allah ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Fade in: The wild shot of Derek Rage tossing Unique Allah up to the ring and him grabbing the cheque.  Cut to Unique dropping to the canvas, cheque in hand and winning the match.  Finally, the scene ends with Unique giving "half" the cheque to Creed.  Cut to Dirt Dog, half-dressed before his interview stage.] DDUA: Thank God somebody woke me up!  I won the lotto, muhfuhs!  And I didn't even have to pick no numbers!  Yeah, y'all think the Dirt Dog ain't a fightin' champion?  Gimme somebody to fight!  Please!  I mean what good is being the zaniest, craziest brutha in the biz since the era of Blowfly! [singing to the tune of Roberta Flack's "The First Time"]  The first time ... ever you sucked my ... [BLEEP] ... I felt the Earth tremble under my [BLEEP!]  Hey, who keeps ringing that bell?  I done told you once I done told you twice.  You thought y'all wasn't going to see me as the champion of this here?  I'm the greatest performer every since James Brown.  And I don't hit no woman neither.  Ain't that right, Chrissie Quigley?  Wasn't you some Injun hockey player anyway?  I just gotta know. But that's all right.  I don't gotta know now.  I don't gotta know about nothin' but the state of Tony Starks!  The Age of the Rage needs a Iron Man!  And I can't see it being me.  'Cause you know I'm kinda soft and squishy inside.  I gotta question, though.  Somebody who watches TV picked this match?  Why?  You got Pizzazz and Medusa ... the Harlequins and all that.  You don't say nothing about mud!  You don't say nothin' about jello or oil or topless ish, man.  You don't say nuthin' about none of that. What's the deal wit you, dog?  What is you, dumb?  I tell you, dogs.  I done be looking after my brothas.  Creed.  We make better friends than enemies.  And Tony Starks, you're my man.  You know all you gotta do is give me some kind of sign.  I want you in the crew, Tony.  I need you to be you.  I need you to be the man for me.  Please!  I'm beggin' you! Please!  Anyway, I think it's time that I took offence at my portrayal in this ish.  I ain't nobody's sleepin' dog!  I'm a bad muhfuh!  That's right!  A bad muhfuh!  And y'all'll see how bad I can be.  Y'all'll see. I promise.  Goodnight!  Farewell!  Amen!  Yeah, boyyyyyyyyyy!! [Fade out] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Timothy N. Turner ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Timothy N. Turner, dressed in an impeccable Giorgio Armani Colliozone suit, is pacing back and forth in the IIWF interview area.  He stops when he gets his cue from the cameraman.] TNT: Christiansen!  How dare you!  HOW!  DARE!  YOU!  You have turned down a position which other men would kill for!  I always knew you were a little slow on the uptake but this takes the cake!  You are now on the list, Christiansen.  My list.  THe list belonging to the sexiest, most-talented, most dominating force in the sport of wrestling.  I am hereby announcing that you are black-balled!  I not only will beat you, but I will beat anyone who dares to stand beside you!  Don't think for one second that you have a chance against the one, the only, Timothy N. Turner! [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Scott Rogers ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: Scott Rogers stands before an IIWF backdrop with his tanned body covered in globules of sweat. He wears only a towel around his midsection; evidently this was taped on Saturday Night after his team's loss in the six-man falls count anywhere contest. His face is almost expressionless.] SR: Phoenix, you're a marked man, baby. I kinda liked the idea of you and me maybe doin' a bitta taggin'. The big and beautiful with the short and ugly. But you had to listen to the fans didn't ya...? Had to become some kinda nobleman, or some crap like that. Wrestle by the Great Phoenix Spirit whatever the hell that is. Well, Phoenix, we'll see what that Spirit does for ya when we step into the ring together, 'cause let me tell ya, _no-one_ gets one over on Scott Rogers. [Rogers walks off set but stops, suddenly. He speaks, sarcastically.] SR: Oh Christ, I nearly forgot. I gotta wrestle Luke Steele Wednesday. How'm I gonna cope? [Fade out -- Rogers can be heard whispering "How can I get outta it?"] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Tony Starks ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: Staten Island, near high noon. There is an odd mix of street beats and sirens in the air. A few kids are playing in the streets running through the water coming from a busted fire hydrant. Tony Starks stands with Raheem Coles on the street, leaning up against his Toyota Landcruiser. Starks stands with baggy camouflage pants on, both legs rolled up, and no shirt on, but that white towel on his head. The camera focuses in on Starks who speaks with an intense calm: TS: Everybody is asking me "what is up wit you Starks?", I got one     thing to say about it, don't worry 'bout it. Look at the title     rankin's here: all the bucks who hold gold here, they "new gen."     [BLEEP] the "new gen". Forget them young bucks. I been here almost as long as anyone. Do I get a title shot? Hell no.         I got one against Casey a long while ago. See, Casey was a real man, he fought me. So did Byron. But I had to campaign for them shots. Then comes the tournament. My shot. I go down to Thunder. Know what I see when I look at you? That damn Outlaw. You had better stay out my way son, cause I will make it real easy for you to depart this earth.     Ev'body wants to know what was up when I left the Saturday show.     To hell wit "Big Bad" Brody Thunder. That's why, that match ain't     gettin' me no title shot. Them cats is all in a ladder match. You     just don't worry about my tactics, worry 'bout if I got you in my     sights. RC: No doubt... TS: All these announcers talkin' bout me joinin' the Age? Do you see     me chillin' wit them cats? No. The only brothas I trust is the     ones down since the foundation. That is who I trust. If I am wit     them or whatever, you gonna find out when I want you to... RC: Word baby... TS: One last word, I seen that what you want, you gotta take. I am     gonna take what is mine. Hell is back in me, know that. _Anyone_     who gets in my way, you gonna get your wig split... just ask     "Nifty" Ned Norton... RC: [he cracks an evil grin] Word. TS: I got one last question to ask the IIWF:     Do you believe in God? You do. Better ask him to save you...     ...'Cause I am gonna slay you. [The camera focuses in on Starks' strange, intense gaze. Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Serge Annis ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The scene is the locker room of the IIWF Coliseum. Serge Annis sits at a bench looking rather upset.] SA: Serge Annis' big chance to prove to the world that I belong in Genesis. To prove to Steve Roberts that I am not an over-rated hack. And the chance to show Deathbringer just how big a fool he is. AND LOOK WHAT HAPPENS! I can not even take care of that puke, Luke Steele, or even the Genesis tearaway, Phoenix. Sometimes, I don't really think I belong in Genesis. Or don't I? When you look at it, I have been screwed over by the IIWF more times than most... with the exception of that cry baby, Chris Quigley. But unlike he, I am not out for sympathy. What I am out for is revenge. I'm so damn sick and tired of being Genesis' downfall. No one thinks I can make it in Genesis, let alone the IIWF. If that's the way people want it, so be it. I promised I'd show the IIWF just what "The Epitome Of Evil" is all about... and my word is my bond... I intend to just do that. That's why I am making this challenge: The only way I can prove my worth to Genesis is this: I have to defeat the Phoenix. There's no damn way around it. And that is exactly what I intend to do. Phoenix, I know you know how Genesis works, HOWEVER you have no clue how Serge Annis works. Phoenix, I want a match with you -- this Saturday or next, I don't care! You ignore my challenge, I'll make you regret it. My intent is to make one thing clear: I BELONG IN  GENESIS... AND I BELONG AT THE TOP! And that path... goes through you, Phoenix. I promise, Genesis will not interfere. I guarantee it. You want to leave the best thing going in wrestling Phoenix... well, you'll have to pay the cost, and that is defeat at the hands of Serge Annis. And I will not fail... [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: IIWF interview Area, where "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley stands in his wrestling attire, hands on his hips.] CQ: Ya know, when I heard about this Ten Man Tag Match, I wasn't too thrilled to be a part of it!  There's no doubt in my mind, or in anyone's mind, that here in the IIWF, Chris Quigley is wanted dead or alive... preferably dead!  So I had nine guys who I had to keep an eye on at all times tonight, and I did just that.  But wait, it gets better.... [Quigley runs his hands through his hair.] They told me I'd be getting a mystery partner.  I racked my brain, and I knew that most likely, this guy wouldn't be my best friend, but never did it cross my mind that it'd be that walking condominium, Tonnage!  But I'll say this right now, Tonnage!  The past is the past, you've beaten me, and I've beaten you!  We had no problems during the tag match, but that was to be expected anyway.  I know full well you want another shot at me, and personally, I'd love another chance to take you apart, and trust me, it'll happen.  You name a time and place, and I will _be there_!  As for you, Brody Thunder -- payback's a bitch, ain't it? [Quigley gives an uncharacteristic smirk into the camera as the scene fades...] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Real Deal" Luke Steele ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Fade up to Luke Steele, standing in the middle of the IIWF Interview area. Steele's got his ribs taped up, with an "IIWF is Steeletown" t-shirt wrapped around his head like a bandana.] LS: Score one for the good guys tonight.  Genesis, you boys have had your fun, and now the end is slowly coming.  Myself, the Deathbringer, and the Pheonix defeated the turncoat, the pyromaniac, and the big silent one tonight, and that loss is going to carry me through this Wednesday night when I get my hands on Scott Rogers, one on one.    Scotty, you useless plug.  You've proven just one thing since you arrived in the IIWF, that the value of your word is about as good as Steve Roberts' wrestling career was -- completely horrible, and barely worth mentioning.  You swore up and down how you hated Genesis, how you were there to back Ronnie and me up, etc.     Then came the Clash.  Was I surprised that you joined Genesis? Hell, yeah.  Was I surprised that you eventually turned on the fans, not to mention us?  Not a damn bit.  I figured you'd someday decide that we weren't good enough to be your friends, but I never figured you for a fool. Because that's exactly what you are, my former friend, for joining the Crap Pack, you are a fool.     Do you honestly believe that Requiem gives a damn about you?  Or Cold Spell?  No.  As long as _they_ win matches, and _they_ keep their titles, then you're a member of Genesis.  Once _you_ slip up, and believe me, according to them you will at some point, you'll be history.     But when that happens, don't think about crawling back and asking for forgiveness.  'Cause it ain't gonna happen.  See you Wednesday, Scotty. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Billy Shakespeare sits backstage in his street clothes.  He watches the Requiem/Creed/Dirt Dog bout on a backstage monitor.  He waves the camers over.] BS: Yeah, yeah.  New generation.  No respect for the wrestlers who came     before them, not respect for the belts which bear the IIWF name,     unable to appease the fans with anything besides simple gimmicks and     slight of hand.  Once again, I have to show them how it's done, let     us see if they can follew in the footprints I'm about to make? [Slight smile.]   "By the pricking of my thumb", something _truly_ wicked this way comes.     [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Duncan Macbeth ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Duncan Macbeth bursts into the IIWF interview area, drenched in sweat, several welts marking his chest area after his backstage brawl with Otto Verhoeven, and a wild, savage expression on his face augmented by his disheveled, ruddy mane and new, scraggly growth of beard.  He paces back and forth a few times, running his hands through his hair and chucking to himself, before lasering the camera with a blistering green stare.] DM: I've got a couple o' problems I'd like t' address RIGH' NOW.  First off, this great German kindergarten failure, Verhoeven, tryin' t' make me out as some sort o' bad guy 'cause he did no' have what it takes t' beat me, fer th' SECOND time, mind, at Coronation Clash.  'Cause despite 'is back-alley tactics an' 'is Deutsche harlot runnin' about playin' silly buggers, 'E COULDN'T BEAT DUNCAN MACBETH.  No' at MY game, an' no' at 'IS game.  Now all I'm hearin' from this whingin' wanker is "Duncan Macbeth must pay, Duncan Macbeth ruined me pay-per-view, Duncan Macbeth is a naughty man, Duncan Macbeth gives me bad dreams an' makes me wet me bed."  Well, I've yet t' see ye DO somethin' about it, except suckin' yuir thumb an' cryin' t' yuir nursemaid.  Looks like ye went cryin' t' Spreadbury too, since 'e was quick t' set ye up with yet ANOTHER chance at th' World belt.  Maybe ye can intimidate th' figurehead, but dinnae be so foolish as th' think ye can intimidate ME, Mistkerl.  Tha' bit o' slap an' tickle back there in th' hallway was child's play - when ye're ready t' play a MAN's game, ye'll find THIS man in th' ring, waitin' fer ye, an' 'twill no' be a pacifier I'll use t' stop yuir bawlin', wha'. Now 'ere's somethin' else tha's gnawin' on me.  Th' Teutonic Tosser spends th' better part o' this year gettin' 'is arse kicked by everyone short o' th' Gecko, doesn't even get past th' Sweet Sixteen at th' Clash, an' righ' away, 'e's got another World title match, just like tha'.  Meanwhile, I tear apart everyone they put in front o' me, take everythin' tha' blowhard media darlin' Creed can throw at me an' STILL put th' bollix down, an' who becomes th' number one contender fer th' Intercontinental title? Highwayman.  HIGHWAYMAN!  What a bleedin' FARCE!  Th' way I see it, either those Genesis morons have some pretty interesting polaroids o' Spreadbury in their possession, or Creed's pickin' saps t' defend 'is belt against, just like 'is predecessor.  Highwayman's just a redundant retread who's no' fit t' carry me boots, an' if Creed thinks tha' "Requiem's roadie" is goin' t' be' 'is toughest challenge, 'e might as well just hand tha' belt t' ME, righ' now. So, I've addressed me problems.  An' now I'm goin' t' DEAL with 'em. [Macbeth's eyes narrow ominously, and he chuckles to himself once more before turning abruptly and stalking out of frame.  Fade.]  ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Kevin "the Cavalier" Christiansen ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scene opens in the locker room after the show.  Kevin Christiansen is sitting on a bench, holding an ice pack on his ribcage, a nasty purple bruise visible from under the edges of it.] KC: Well-fought, to the others who participated in the match on this night.  'Twas an honor to be in the ring with the likes of many of thee... [Christiansen winces as he readjusts the ice pack.] KC: ...although being in the ring UNDER the likes of thee, Tonnage, is an experience I should hope not to repeat in the future.  Mine congratulations go to the victors. [The Cavalier takes the ice pack off, looks down approvingly at the area, and continues to speak.] KC: However, TNT, thy arrogance became visible once again. Shouldst thou care to fight me, face to face like a man, and not waylay me from behind like a cheap brigand, I should welcome the opportunity to put thee in thy place.  In fact, methinks perhaps 'twould be best if we WERE to settle this... lack of communication at the earliest possible instance.  I look forward to hearing thy response, coward. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Prophets of Rage ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [FAde in: Shadoe Rage spins around to face the camera.  He's clearly upset.  His eyes are sharp and intense.] SR: Violence Unlimited!  You were about to learn the real meaning of the word until some idiot fell from the sky on me.  That's all right.  Because we wiped out the field.  And you know you were pinned.  You know your biggest guy still lost out in the muscle game with big Derek.  Yeah, I want to see.  I want to see this happen one-on-one.  Team on team.  I was the first man in and I would've been the last man standing.  Don't think the Machines and that little salt-and-pepper unit, Licensed for Destruction, aren't gonna pay the price for their idiocy!  Because I swear to you they will.  This I vow.  The Prophets of Rage are the greatest tag-team ever to walk the face of the Earth.  Seems everybody is trying to push us down.  Push us back and out.  We don't go down so easy.  We don't go down without a fight.  I promise you.  Each and every one of you, the Prophets of Rage throw down the gauntlet.  Each and every damn week, we're going to face one of you.  And we're going to wipe you out!  Tell 'em, big man. [The shot pulls back to show Derek Rage, arm in arm with Pizzazz.] DR: See, all the crap is unbelievable.  We've got the best record in the whole of the IIWF and now people want to screw with it.  Yeah, we know wrestling is a game of spurts.  We know what goes around comes around. It's part of the job.  But I promise you it won't be that easy.  It won't be that easy to keep us from accelerating again.  Everybody in the IIWF, you're all on notice.  The flashiest, baddest unit in the business is ready to wreak havoc again.  We promise. SR: Fade to black.  Before you Die in Darkness! [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Licensed For Devastation ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Reggie Starr and Jonathan Chaos are seated in the very ring which they lost in on Saturday.] RS: Harlequins, this Wednesday we're gonna get our first win. JC: [BLEEP] the people that doubt us.  I guess that's the Machines. Fine, we're paying attention to you backwards-assed nobodies... and you've crossed the wrong two mercenaries, sucka. RS: That's all, I don't feel like talking. [Fade to black.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Violence Unlimited ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Hollywood Bloods ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The camera opens to the Hollywood Bloods with a simple IIWF backdrop behind them.] DW: Well, another week, another opponent.  Pain Inc., We've seen ya before so you know what we are about. More important matters. Last Resort, don't forget about us, boys.  Everywhere you look we are gonna be right in your faces... We are like the disease you can't quite cure and we are spreading.  And if that loser manager gets in our way, we are gonna stomp his ugly ass.  You have made enemies for life in us. I would suggest you pack your bags and head on back to Mexico before you get hurt very badly.  Tell about Watson. CW: The Masked Mexican Jumping Bean and "El Don't Forget to Wash Your Hands After Serving the Tacos" days are numbered. Some say you guys are a thorn in our sides. I'd say more like a stupid housefly. And what do you do with Houseflies? You squash them. Get the picture guys. DW: It seems that Last Resort is trying to go for a rougher new image. They think they are all of a sudden some bad hombres now. The only bad thing that ever came out of Mexico is the water and the only bad thing to come out of you two is your stinking, burrito breath.  CW: [laughingly] So after we destroy, dun dunna na, The Masked Avenger, El Diablo, and Mr. Friday -- or better known as Mexico's answer to the Three Stooges -- I think we might have to whip up on the Harlequins.  By the way, how many Harlequins are there now?  Three? Four? Five? DW: They keep adding them on every day.  Those guys need all the help they can get. Their day will come. Boy, will it come. [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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+