C + O + U + N + T + D + O + W + N T + O ________ ______ __ ____ ___ __ . _ ___ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| / /\ | | || \| \ /\ \ / |\ || / \| | | | || | \ v v / | __| \__ /__\ | | ||__/| |/__\ v | \||| __|-| | |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| \ \| v | \|__/ \| | || \_|| | | __________________________/..............\........|...|.......|....| *******************WITH BRIAN LAU AND LARRY MORTON******************** *************************SEPTEMBER 19, 1997*************************** [The shot opens with a wide pan of the IIWF "Control Truck," used for production at the live events away from the IIWF Coliseum in Portland. A bank of video screens line one side of the unusually spacious vehicle, and underneath that bank sits a control board. Larry Morton sits at the board, watching various clips of IIWF matches... Ned Norton vs. Steve Kowalski, Super Gecko vs. Billy Shakespeare, Requiem vs. Deathbringer.] LM: Hey... I feel like Requiem... [In a deep voice] Gecko, I will destroy you! Hehe... Huh? What? We're on? Oh... Hello, folks, and welcome to the return of Countdown to Saturday Night. I'm Larry Morton, and absent, it would seem, is Brian Lau... Huh? Oh, okay... We've received a call from Brian that he'll be here shortly. Fans, we're coming to you this week from Tokyo, Japan, and what a city it is! Wrestling is looked upon in a whole different light here, and it's a refreshing change from those so-called sports broadcasters that make fun of... [The door to the truck opens, and in walks Brian Lau, flanked by two very large Japanese men who look like they could have a good career in wrestling if they could only work out how not to kill people. He is also followed by a smaller man holding an umbrella over his head.] LM: Brian... How nice of you to show up... BL: Shut up, Morton... We're in Tokyo now, _my_ house. I can do what I want. LM: I see. And these two men... Scouting, are we? BL: No... Taking precautions, is all. A guy like me needs protection when he comes home. LM: Protection? You know, Brian, most people, when they go home, visit their families and what-not. BL: Oh, I visited the family, alright. That's exactly why I need the protection. You just don't understand, Morton... See, and aspiring businessman acquires... enemies, and those enemies have the nastiest habit of popping up at the most inconvenient of times when that businessman is at the top. LM: As interesting as your outlook on life is, Brian, we do have a job to do... And it's a little crowded in here. BL: Yeah, yeah, whatever... [Turns to the two men and snaps a few orders in Japanese. They both head out the door.] There. They're posted outside. Happy now? Hey, look at all the monitors... We doing the Requiem thing now? [In a deep voice] Gecko, I'm going to... LM: I covered that one already, Brian. BL: Oh... What the hell? Trying to take all the good lines from me now, huh? Hey, how about this weather? LM: Does it rain like this all the time here? BL: Oh, yeah... That's why everyone is worried and all... Typhoon #20, Larry... The Egg Dome might not even be standing by tomorrow... LM: Are you serious? BL: No... I would be if we were talking about some second rate dome in America... But this is the Egg Dome... This is Japan. LM: Now that we've had our lesson in regional engineering, how about moving on to coverage of the Madness? We saw some great action last Saturday. BL: You could say that... New tag champs! LM: Yes, new tag champs. Those were the only belts to change hands that night, as Derek Mota retained his Cruiserweight title... BL: Thanks to that... Shamu... What's her name? LM: Shakeemah, I think. BL: Shamu... She hit Lebec with the kitchen sink! Literally! LM; Yes, she did. We also saw relative newcomer Tonnage dominate that big elimination tag match he was in... BL: So he's been upgraded from "newcomer" to "relative newcomer?" How long before he makes "contender?" LM: I think all the title holders are shaking in their boots about the thought of that day. Tony Starks was the sole survivor in his match, despite the lead pipe that found its way to several body parts that night. BL: I don't want to hear you speak of laying pipe on certain body parts, Morton. LM: Why not? I mean... Oh, wait... I see what you mean. Good call. Later on, we saw Kowalski and Thunder fight tooth and nail, only to have the match cut short by what appeared to be an attack by the same masked man that attacked Ike Sampson to get Mad Dog Watkins a shot at the IC title. BL: But we found out later that wasn't the case... LM: We'll get to that. The second hour was kicked off with another elimination tag match, this one showcasing the unlikely partnership between Ronnie Paris and Billy Shakespeare. BL: Yeah, but they were the ones left at the end... But that wasn't all... Paris belted Shakespeare after the match was done! Stylish! LM: But Shakespeare was still able to play to the crowd, and give them a good show... _That_ is stylish. BL: Bah... LM: After that match, we saw a great technical contest between Marty Warnett and Chris Quigley. Warnett pulled the win out of that one, that's for sure. BL: Out of the two of those guys, I'm glad Warnett won. Remember that feud between Casey and Quigley? Remember what Casey said about Quigley not taking losses well? Can you say "right on the money?" Did you hear what Quigley was saying on Monday Musings? Sheesh. LM: It would seem that Quigley is angry with some of the events in the IIWF. BL: Oh, yeah, it's not his fault he lost, right? It's a conspiracy, right? Give me a break. LM: Moving on, though, In the first of our main events, we saw the team of Genesis take on Mad Dog Watkins, The Syndicate, and two mystery partners... BL: Who ended up being Thunder and Kowalski! They came down wearing those happy face masks... They were acting the whole time! LM: It would appear so... Anyway, the Intercontinental title was on the line, as were the tag titles. The IC belt stayed with Watkins, but the tag titles... BL: Now belong to the Syndicate. Way to go, boys. LM: An impressive victory, that's for sure, as the team went on to defeat Genesis. That appeared to be the first strike. We then moved on to the big heavyweight title match. BL: Now this one disturbs me... That guy wearing the Outlaw mask... He ruined it. LM: That guy, huh? You mean Casey James. BL: No, I mean the guy wearing the Outlaw mask. LM: Who _was_ Casey James... It's obvious. James left, and the Outlaw returned. BL: So what...? LM: Come on, Brian, stop denying it. Look... I've got some footage here... Look. [Footage rolls on the largest monitor on the wall of "The Outlaw" stepping into the ring, Verhoeven smiling, as if expecting the man to congratulate him, and then receiving a big Cattle Buster DDT. The footage pauses, then rewinds, until a paused shot of "The Outlaw" in mid air is shown. At this point, the long grey trenchcoat has flapped open, and part of the man's upper torso can be seen.] LM: See that? BL: What? LM: The chest... Look at the pecs... Look at the musculature. There's only one man in the IIWF that is built like that. BL: Scott Rogers? LM: No! Well, yes, but we saw Rogers come down the aisle as the "Outlaw" was walking up it. No, the only man that could have been was Casey James. BL: Oh, come on. You're trying to tell me that you're using some paused segment of footage as the basis of your argument? Is that what you're telling me? LM: Well, yes. BL: Okay, here's my arguments. Number one... Casey hates Genesis, and he hates Requiem. Number two... Casey James is a friend of Otto Verhoeven's. Why would he cost a friend the title, and cause the man he hates to retain it? Number three... Casey is a member of a tag team now. Why would he go out and start picking on singles wrestlers? And why would he get involved in something when Claw is not? Answer me that, Morton. LM: I can't, but think about it. We've never seen Casey James and this masked man in the same place, and the two look to be of the same build. Casey has also been known to wear that mask on occasion. The first man that this Outlaw attacked was Dan Kauffman, and we know how Casey feels about Kauffman. As for Verhoeven... I don't know... But you have to admit that Casey James is not exactly all there. I never know what the guy is going to do. Explain why he kidnapped Kauffman's dog? BL: It was funny... Damn funny. LM: Anyway, moving on, Joe Petrow attacked Requiem after the match, seeming to snap knowing that Requiem was still champ. Petrow is a wild card. When I say that Casey James is unpredictable, Joe Petrow makes him look like a very predictable thing with a pixelboard sign over his head displaying what he's going to do next. Petrow will meet the champ tomorrow night in the ring! Can you imagine that? BL: What a champion that would be... Nutty-boy Petrow. LM: Well, he does seem to hold the best interests of the IIWF to heart. BL: Yeah, but he's looney. LM: It should be a great match. That will be only one of the matches... BL: Hold on, what about Deathbringer? LM: Huh? BL: The Outlaw... What about Deathbringer? LM: He's outta here... He went bonkers at the Madness... Apparently The Reaper took the name of the event too seriously. Besides... We saw that Deathbringer was backstage bickering with Poutine Janois while the attack was made. No Deathbringer. BL: So he's out, huh? LM: Ummm, yeah... He disappeared. BL: I bet. He's the Outlaw, I'm telling you. LM: Of course, Brian... Let's move on to the exciting card we have tomorrow night coming to all of our fans across the world from the Tokyo Egg Dome! ======================================================================== ---------------------IIWF-SATURDAY-NIGHT-PREVIEW------------------------ ======================================================================== --------------------------------------------- 1. IIWF CRUISERWEIGHT TOURNAMENT FIRST ROUND: Ronnie Paris vs. Timothy N. Turner --------------------------------------------- [The scene shakes a little.] LM: It occurs to me that broadcasting from a truck in the middle of what could be a typhoon is far from a good idea. BL: I don't think there's much to worry about... Weather forecasts have been wrong before. LM: Do you feel that? BL: Yeah, big deal... Okay, Larry... Tell you what... Why don't we go to the underground parking of the dome? We should be okay there. At least there will be less wind. LM: Okay, let's go then... BL: Hold on... [Brian opens the door, at which point a harsh wind goes whistling through the truck. He screams something in Japanese, and his valets enter the truck.] BL: Jeez... That is bad. Okay, we can go now. LM: Shouldn't we talk about this match? BL: Oh, yeah... Paris vs. Turner... Could be good. On one hand, you've got Turner, who I like, and on the other hand you've got Wonnie, who has been showing some promise lately. LM: I guess we should roll the Turner footage and then go to commercial so we can change positions. [Over his shoulder] Be ready to lower the dish to change positions, Pepe. [To the camera] And to our HQ in Portland... Let's run a commercial quick, okay? Folks, here's Tim Turner. [Timothy N. Turner is walking briskly through the airport in Tokyo, a big smile is playing over his face. He stops when he sees the camera.] TNT: What a week for the Turner family! First, I am meeting with my brother Tom for the first time in years! He has finally lightened up and recognized that there is more than one path to success! I have my old friend Akira Saito to thank for that. I've invited the two of them to attend the IIWF card here, so they can watch me take out Ronnie Paris on the way to the Cruiserweight Title! Finally I'm getting the recognition I deserve...from my family...from the IIWF...from the championship booking committee! Timothy N. Turner is bringing home the gold, baby! [Fade... Cut to some commercial in which a short guy keeps repeating "Whaddya mean Barq's has bite?" Cut to another commercial: the scene fades in on a pair of juveilles playing a video game on their Nintendo 64.  They are having a ton of fun, and laughing their heads off. The one child is selecting his character.] KID:  WOW!  This game is so cool!  I'm gonna pick Joe Petrow! [Screen shows the game select screen, which pans through many copyright-avoiding changed name federations from elsewhere, and their wrestlers, who also have different names.  The child comes upon the league titled "IIWF".  He scans through around thirty wrestlers, coming to the image of Joe Petrow.  He hits a button on his controller, and then scrolls through the six possible outfit colors using his left and right directions, and chooses the outfit where Joe wears the "Joe Petrow.  Period." t-shirt. The other child gets to choose.] KID2: Oh yeah, well I'm gonna choose Reqiuem! [Screen shows the same character select screen, as the child comes to an image of Reqiuem.  He chooses the default outfit color, one that is different from anything Reqiuem has ever worn, the "dream outfit".  It is a pair of white and blue striped tights, with a black t-shirt, and a feathered boa around the neck of the World's Champion.  Screen shows "Joe Petrow vs. Reqiuem" with a picture of each below their names.] KID:  You're gonna lose! KID2: NO WAY!  I've got Reqiuem, and he's "undestructable"...       just like the Rotunda Shopping Network says he is!  You       can't stop the forces of Genesis! [The heavy beat of guitar music accompanies further screen shots of the game, in a montage, as Reqiuem and Joe Petrow enter the cage match, a special feature of the game.  Scene shows a bloody Joe Petrow missing a Starsault Press, and getting nailed with a power bomb for the pin.  Kid #2 goes crazy.  Steve Roberts enters the room, accompanied by a dream-like fog, and chants of "Shoot, Soundbite, Shoot!"] SR: IIWF Ring Wars, The Video Game.  So close to the real thing... it's less boring than Kick-Me! [More scenes run over the theme to Coronation Clash, such as the Brutal Fighting Championship matches, Japan Pro Wrestling-style Death Matches, the Battle Royal, screen shot of a tournament screen, wrestlers such as Brody Thunder, Casey James, "Carter Temple", and Otto Verhoeven.  Screen shows tag team matches between Cold Spell and the Syndicate, and "Larger than Dollywood" and "The Good Warriors".  The kids are still having fun playing their game, as Steve Roberts joins in, cheating to beat both kids.  He uses the hidden "Steve Roberts" character... one with a tendency to hit harder than the usual wrestling world allows.  As the camera begins to fade, a picture of the Masked Outlaw making a ring entrance on the game, obviously a hidden feature, quickly flashes.  The commercial ends with a logo.]                          ________      ______                          | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|                          | || | \ v  v / | __|                          |_||_|  \_/\_/  |_|                        -==-==-==-==-==-==-==-==-                        RING WARS: THE VIDEO GAME                        -==-==-==-==-==-==-==-==-                       [Available In Stores: NOW!] ---------------------------------------------- 2. The Harlequins vs. Licensed for Devastation ---------------------------------------------- [Cut back to the truck. The reception is noticeably fuzzy, but watchable.] LM: Oh, yeah, let's go underground, right? BL: Hey, I just suggested it. You were the one who jumped at it, okay? Besides, shouldn't the signal be able to get through down here? LM: I don't know... I guess we'll have to do though... That was pretty hectic out there. BL: Hey, it happens. Get over it. LM: Alright, then. Well, we have the Harlequins locking up with Licensed for Devastation tomorrow night. The Harlequins are looking good lately, and are definitely contenders for those tag titles. Harlequin Tragedy, of course, won the match he was in along with Tonnage. BL: I have a feeling you could team Pokey the one legged dog up with Tonnage and they'd win, to be honest... LM: Are you saying that the Harlequins are not that great? BL: No, I didn't say that... I've said it before... They've got numbers. There's about four hundred of them running around the ring while about thirteen fight the actual match. How can one tag team stand up to that? You know, I don't understand why Genesis is still running rampant while the Harlequins are around. Hell, Melody could kick Requiem's ass. She'd make a neat champion. LM: Well, there's no women's division in the IIWF... BL: You sexist pig, you... LM: I didn't mean that... No, no... I'm not walking into one of your verbal traps again. Why don't we just go to some comments from Licensed for Devastation? [Reggie Starr and Jonathan Chaos, Licensed for Devastation, stand in front of a hot dog stand. Attired in ruffian outfitting, they seem anxious.] RS: Jon, man, how long ago did you order those damn dogs?! JC: [looks to his watch] About...a minute and a half ago. RS: Well [BLEEP]. That's far long enough. [Reggie hops into the hot dog stand. Jonathan stands in front of it, arms crossed, so the image is contrued. The sounds of pounding are heard. Jonathan moves, and Reggie pops up from under the counter, wearing a goofy looking paper hat.] RS: I'll go get those dogs. JC: Word... I'll keep da' cameras pleasured. So... the IIWF's back. It's been a while, hasn't it? Two weeks ago when we punked the Prophets of Rage like they stole sumtin'. Now, we get an opportunity to do it all again, yo. We gotta start from the bottom up, I see... that's fine. The Harlequins. Two average Joes, who couldn't beat the LFD the last time we wrestled... what makes 'em think they can do it now? [Reggie appears with numerous hot dogs... he drops them all on the counter.] RS: Yeah, they think that because they got a _tie_ against us that they can go and do it again... or maybe even _win_. [evil cackle] Think again, boys. The LFD have a whole new level of confidence... now we know that we can kick [BLEEP] like the old days... now we know that the Baltimore streets done us good... we know it, and we know it well. JC: Harlequins... there's gotta be ten of ya'll. Well, there better be enough of ya to deal with Reg... me... and Shock. G'night, Melody, see ya in the morning. [Reggie looks at Jonathan oddly.] RS: You didn't. JC: Yep. RS: Wow. [Both men shrug, and begin to consume the hot dogs. Fade to black.] LM: What was that innuendo referring to? BL: _My_ endo? No way... That was in _you_ endo. LM: Ha ha, very funny. BL: Seriously, though... I don't know. LM: You have to admit that LFD looked impressive at Midsummer Madness. BL: I don't actually... There's really only one tag team that impresses me at the moment, and that's... LM: Don't bother... We already know the answer to that one... -------------------------- 3. Tony Starks vs. Tonnage -------------------------- LM: Both these men walked out of Midsummer Madness with another victory under their belt. Starks was the sole survivor in his match, and Tonnage pretty much cleaned house in his. How will this match look? BL: Like a squash... And I don't mean that in some wannabe insider way, I mean that literally. Starks is going to look like a pancake after Tonnage jumps on him a few times. LM: But what about the technical submission style of Starks? BL: It won't do him much good when his ribs are broken, and the big man refuses to let up. Look at the size of Tonnage... The guy is just _huge!_ LM: You know what they say, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. BL: Which is usually said by small guys trying to make them feel better. It's just like poor people who tell you that money can't buy happiness. LM: Well, looking at this match, I see a variety of styles. Tonnage concentrates on using that weight to his advantage, and imposing his power on an opponent. He also has been known to venture into the technical realms. Starks is all business in the ring, focusing on the submission style which has become popular as of late. As big as Tonnage may be, he'll still go down to the Kata-ha Jime chokehold. BL: I thought chokes were illegal. LM: Ummm... Hey, I think... Well, the refs haven't said anything about it. BL: I'll have to remember that... LM: Well, let's take this time to get comments from Tony Starks, who comes to us along with the rest of the Age of Rage, about this match... [Scene: Tony Starks stands on the side of a building in downtown Tokyo. On his side is Unique Dirt Dog and The Prophets of Rage. Starks stands with his head covered by a white towel almost looking into forever with that 1000 yard stare. Unique is singing outloud while the Japanese people walk by quickly seeming very uneasy by the men. The Prophets just sit in the background and talk amongst themselves. The shot with Unique yelling:] UDDA: (in a near drunken chorus) SOOOOOMMMMEEEWWWHHHHHEEERRREEE OOOOVVVVEEERRRR TTTTTTHHHHHH' RAAAAAIIIIIINNNNNBOOOOOOOOO, WWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEE SSSSSSSSSSSKKKKKKKKKKKKKIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS AAARRREEEE BBBBLLUUUUUEEEE. I love all these Bruce Lee people and they loves me! [Unique tries to give a hug to a young Japanese woman but she flees the scene before he can do it. Unique just shrugs it off and goes back to his singing, this time standing on a stoop, hands outstretched and singing "Tomorrow, Tomorrow" from Annie. The shot comes down to Starks who is still in his stare. He begins to speak TS: Tonnage, big man. You been talkin' a lot bout how you lay claim to the world strap just cause you been a playa' in some other place. Well, guess what? You gonna get a lesson in Starks 103 That is keepin your damn mouth shut unless you can backup your lip. You won your match at the PPV too, just like me, big deal. You think you can run in here and ride your rep? Wrong. See, reps dont mean jack to me or these men behind me. I dont care who you beat, what you weigh and who brought you here. All that matters is that you are in line for an International beatdown Saturday night. Bank on it... You ever seen that movie Seven? You see what they did to that fat cat, Glutton? You better burn that into your skull cuz that is a taste bout what I am going to do to you. [Slowly, Starks pulls the towel off of his head, exposing his face. His eyes seem hollow.] TS: Ike, you say someone is gonna pay? The only one who is going to be doin the payin' is when you pay your doctor for tryin to fix you from the slaughter that is going to happen when you get in my face. You hear me Ike? Ike, you had it easy your whole life. You use your size to try to act bad but when it comes down to it, you are soft. You wanna front and get raw. You aint raw chump, you dont even know where raw begins. [Starks shakes his head] Tonnage, Egg Dome, IIWF Saturday Night, you and me. You bring your talk and some chump victories and I will bring the pain. Once again, Hell is gonna walk down the isle, one deep, and that is all that it needs. Hell... [Starks stares into the camera, the shot widens as people just walk down the street and Starks, The Prophets stand as Unique sings. Fade] LM: He's intense... BL: I have to admit, he's gone through some garbage to stay here... The knee, the back... That's what's going to have him taken out, though. You just don't face a guy like Tonnage without a clean bill of health, and Starks just doesn't have it. That knee is like a chicken bone, and that back is like Jell-O LM: I think that Starks has done the necessary therapy to get those areas... BL: Blah, blah... Listen, Morton, once you hurt a knee or a back, it's never the same. You might be able to get it up to the "good enough" level, but it'll never be the same as it was before the injury. LM: You say that week after week, but Starks keeps winning... How does that feel? BL: Shut up, Morton. LM: Fine. Here's some comments from big ol' Tonnage. [SCENE: Tonnage's living room.  The big man is sitting in his oversized easy chair, reading a thick book on C++ programming.  The cameraman's approach attracts his attention, and the Beast places the book on the table next to his chair.] T: Well well, you've arrived.  Thanks for stopping by.  I understand you're a busy man, so I won't keep you for too long.  Just a few quick points, and then I'll let you go.  I have a lecture to prepare, anyway. DeathBreath.  Once again, you fail to surprise me.  I really was hoping you'd gained a smidgen of courage in these, oh, six months or so.  Unfortunately, that simply wasn't the case.  You know, for a guy who's so eager to "bury" me, you have the strangest tendency to take the shortest, quickest route out of the match.  Oh, I never doubted that you'd cheat; that's about the only way you could stay even with me, in any respect. But I hoped that you'd at least _try_ to keep your composure long enough for the match to actually take place.  Pity, really... there's little I've anticipated more than finally driving your pathetic, wasted little body into the canvas at trans-light speed.  Oh well, if you feel like delaying the inevitable that much longer, I have no complaints.  I've learned to be patient; when people have learned to avoid you the way they do to me, you kinda have to learn that sort of thing.  You can be certain that I'll get you in the ring at some future date, whereupon I'll have my way with you in my typical dominating fashion.  For the time being, I don't care if you choose to revel in your little non-victory.  My team came out on top, and I single-handedly disposed of two of your Spam sucking chump partners, which is a fine bit of work, all things considered.  Oh, by the way... if you're starting to feel cocky because you managed to chokeslam me?  Just thought I'd let you know that I've been body slammed, tombstoned, and even powerbombed under the right circumstances.  I've also recovered from all of them, and come back to win for the most part.  And guess what?  I choke slam gimpy little goons like you in my sleep.  Don't lose too much of yours... you're going to need it a lot sooner than you think. Now that the past is disposed of, I can get on to more relevant topics.  It seems that I have a match on Saturday, against... hmm.  A comic book character, is it?  You used to have your own show, didn't you?  Yeah, I remember that one... [singing] # Tony Starks, makes you feel, he's a cool exec with a heart of steel! # Yeah, that was a pretty good one.  Old, but pretty good.  Kind of a shame, I must say, that the quality of said show doesn't carry over into your ring performance.  Then again, maybe it does.  Both are aimed at impressing the minds of children, and neither has anywhere near that effect on an adult.  And in both, there's a lot of hard stuff around the cranial area.  On the show, it was metal _around_ your head... this time, it's just the big ol' chunk of granite _inside_ your head. Now, I understand you're probably just the first name the bookers pulled out of a hat, and I sympathize to a certain extent.  I mean, how fair is it to be stuck in a match with a veritable force of nature, a practical juggernaut, without even consulting with you first?  It's not, really.  By the same token, however, nobody ever said life was fair, least of all me.  All my life, I've lived head and shoulders above everybody else.  Not because I was a better _person_ than them, but simply because I was a more _gifted_ person than them. I've hardly had anything to complain about, even though other people have started out with more money, or more power, or more acclaim than I have.  No big deal whatsoever, since I've got the ability to _earn_ all those things. Too bad for you, eh? Of course, there _is_ the possibility that you requested the match yourself. In that case, all I could do is question your sanity.  I mean, what would you have to gain?  You're already established in this crummy little league as it is, so you wouldn't gain recognition by getting whupped.  Perhaps you just wanted a little feather in your cap?  It's hardly worth your while, taking that kind of a drubbing just to say I gave it to you.  Sure, a great story for the kids some day, but are you really _that_ anxious to impress them? I think not.  No, I can only assume this wasn't your idea.  I give you _that_ much credit. But let's deal with the issues at hand, and leave the reasons for their occurring behind us.  What matters now isn't _why_ the match has been signed, but _what_ is going to take place therein.  And that, my poor, sad little sot, is all too painfully obvious.  Painful being the operative word here.  Agony is my specialty, and I'll be dealing it out in massive dollops on Saturday night.  In fact, after I've finished wiping the mat with your face, the fans will be calling you Streak; the canvas will seem to have left skid marks three feet wide.  Of course, they may decide to call you Stuck instead, after that bit of you left pasted on the bottom of my shoe.  Either way, the match will be over, and you'll be just as devastated. See, Streak, it's all quite straightforward.  I'm going to toss your sorry ass around the ring like a rag doll, possibly inflicting massive internal damage, before I finally squash you flatter than a brontosaurus' insole.  I certainly hope you put up a struggle prior to that inevitable conclusion, though.  I much prefer having to work for my pay, especially against a so-called star. Oh, I'm very much aware of your reputation as a technician, and find it quite irrelevant.  I've put down lots of mat wrestlers and scientists in my day, Queer Man included.  I even beat Louie, who is probably _the_ consummate technical competitor on this planet.  I've seen all the tricks you shrimps like to use, and you'd best keep in mind that I play those tricks pretty damned well in my own right.  Just another weapon in my arsenal, and one of several tools I'm going to use to dismantle you in convincing fashion.  Live and learn, Streak.  And in this case, you'll do a bit less living, and a whole helluva lot of learning. I usually have more to say, but like I said, I've got things to do.  Thanks for stopping by, chum.  Enjoy the slaughter... assuming you're into that sort of thing, of course. [Cut back to the studio.] ------------------------------------------- 4. "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder vs. Highwayman ------------------------------------------- LM: Well, Thunder made his presence known at Midsummer Madness, first in that "match" against Steve Kowalski, and then in the big main event elimination tag match. BL: I can say that at least Thunder was bright enough to choose the right side in that one. He's not the brightest bulb on the tree, if you know what I mean. LM: I don't think Thunder lacks in the intellect department, Brian. Besides, I couldn't see him joining forces with Genesis. BL: Why not? A person could be easily won over with the whole New Generation angle. One thing I'll say for Thunder is that he earned his spot, and didn't cop out and become a water boy for Requiem. He's still a bonehead, though. LM: I see... BL: Not as much of a bonehead as Highwayman, though. It's a lesser of two evils type of thing. LM: It would appear that Thunder is lending a hand to Mad Dog Watkins in taking this match. Highwayman has been gunning for that belt that Watkins holds. Perhaps Thunder is trying to take the contender out? BL: Then why's he fighting the Highwayman? LM: I don't get it. BL: It's a joke, stupid. I never viewed the Highwayman as a contender. Look at the history of that belt, and the people who've held it. The Highwayman just doesn't measure up... Okay, well, he comes close to Don Antonio, but that's about it. LM: Don Antonio held the belt for all of fifteen minutes. BL: Fifteen minutes more than the Highwayman will ever hold it. Hey, Adam, do us all a favour and go climb back into that hole and throw the dirt back on. LM: Well, that was just so nice, Brian. Let's get comments from the big ornery cowboy, Brody Thunder... BL: What the hell is "ornery?" LM: I think it's what cowboys are. Ladies and gentlemen, Brody Thunder... [Brody Thunder walks along the street in front of the Egg Dome. He's dressed in street clothes and smoking his trademark cigar.] BT: Y'know... I been here in the IIWF fer oh... nearly a year now. I've fought karate guys, actors, primadonnas an' thieves. An' now I gotta come all the way over here ta the flamin' Egg Dome ta face one o' the IIWF's boogeymen... ...The Highwayman. Well, the way I see it, spook-man... ya got two things goin' against ya tomorrow night. One is yer a cardcarryin' member o' that pack o' trash, Genesis. An' second... [Thunder stops and smiles at the camera.] ...yer facin' me. Now yer supposed ta be dead or sumpthin', right? Or ya died an' came back or whatever the hell it was. Well I ain't never been one ta believe in fairy tales an' ghost stories. Don't matter ta me what ya claim. But lemme tell ya what does matter, ace. What matters is what's gonna happen when that bell rings an' yer hookin' 'em up with a man who ain't afraid o' the dark an' ain't afraid ta prove that the legend o' the Highwayman is nuthin' but a myth. An' here's how I'm gonna do it, "boogey-man." I'm gonna kick yer dusty, dried-up dead ass from bell-ta-bell an' straight ta Hell. Plain an' simple. I ain't out there fer anything but yer hide gettin' planted an' me kickin' a little sand in the face o' that lowdown gang o' thieves, Genesis. Any chance I get ta stick the knife in an' twist 'er is one i'm gonna make the most o'. Got that, Casey? If ya show up tomorrow an' stick yer masked ass in _my_ match... I guarantee ya that the world won't have ta wonder if it's you under that mask cuz I'll tan yer backstabbin' carcass fer free an' twice on Sunday, runt. Yer little game is about ta come crashin' down with the rest o' Genesis's plans. Mark my words, James... we ain't through yet. An' Highwayman... get ready, son. 'Cuz tomorrow night... we're fixin' ta see if a legend can bleed. My money's on the red. See ya soon,amigo. [Thunder starts walking again as the camera pans up to the marquee, with the words: "SAT. NIGHT: IIWF WRESTLING ACTION! REQUIEM vs PETROW! WATKINS vs QUIGLEY! SYNDICATE vs COLD SPELL!" Fade to black.] BL: I bet when he looks up at that marquee, he thinks, "The Syndicate... That was me once... Now I'm nothing..." I bet he cries himself to sleep at night. LM: I think Thunder has only moved ahead in the IIWF since leaving the Syndicate. You can't deny that. BL: What, that you think? I sure as hell can. I've got tons of evidence to support my claim, too... Enough to fill a month of these shows... Maybe I could start that up in my editorials... LM: Please don't. ------------------------------------------ 5. IIWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: The Syndicate [c] vs. Cold Spell ------------------------------------------ LM: Alright, Brian... Go. BL: Tag team champions... You know, when I signed the contracts for these guys way back when, I thought singles belts. I thought that either on of them could be World champ, or Intercontinental champ, but I never thought about the tag titles. They're good, you know. LM: I don't think there's any doubt about that after their performance at Midsummer Madness, but this will be their first time facing Cold Spell in a controlled contest. BL: Oh, come on... The Syndicate beat Cold Spell fair and square. LM: It could be argued that they had some help from the other members of their team, though. BL: So what? To make up for it, The Syndicate pinned _both_ members of Cold Spell. Tomorrow night, they only have to pin one. LM: This is true. However, you have to also consider the possibility that Genesis might come into play here. BL: One word: Disqualification. Genesis interferes, and Cold Spell gets DQed. It's great being champ... LM: You're not a champion. BL: No, I know that... Never mind. LM: Tim Dross once again caught up with the Syndicate at their accommodations recently. Let's go to that footage. [SCENE: A spacious looking living room in an apartment with wall to wall carpeting, and Japanese style wall hangings decorating each and every wall. Near the middle of the room is a couch, and in front of that is a large screen television. Casey James and Tiger Claw both sit on the couch, Casey is eating donuts and watching something on the television. Tim Dross sits on a folding chair next to the couch.] TD: Hello, IIWF fans! Once again, I'm coming to you with an interview with the Syndicate. CJ: That's "tag team champions," Dross... Come on, get with it. You're slacking here... I mean, the donuts were a nice touch, but try and be a bit professional. Hey, Claw... [Rummages through the donut bag and pulls something out] Bear claw? Hehe... Tiger Claw with a bear claw. [Claw shakes his head] TD: Sorry... New tag team champions. I guess your new status comes with its advantages. They've got me shacked up in one of those coffin rooms at a business hotel here. How did you guys manage this? CJ: It's all about who you know... Friends of a friend, you know? TD: Ahh, I see. So why aren't you guys in training for the big title defense against former champions, Cold Spell? CJ: Ah, we did that already. This is down time. Relaxing and all, getting our heads straight. We've been working hard, working on our techniques... We've got a new one that should be fun... TD: Can you shed some light on it? CJ: Nah, not right now... I'll tell you about it after the interview so you don't ruin it right now. TD: So what's the deal right now? CJ: Claw's got me watching this movie here. I don't know, though... It's some cartoon... Look at these folks with those really big eyes and the... JEE-ZUS! Look at that! That chick is naked! What is she, like twelve? I thought this was a cartoon! [Claw snickers a little] TD: Guys, let's get back to business here. Do you have any comments for your challengers? CJ: Yeah, I guess... It's kind of funny... Everyone thought we were just some novelty act... You know, two former singles champs in a tag team. Nobody really got used to the whole thing, and they still thought of us as two singles wrestlers... Did you see our performance at the Madness? Even you have to admit that was impressive. TD: I don't think I ever said anything to the contrary... CJ: Whatever. We proved a point, though, Dross. People may think we're washed up or whatever, but you just take one look at the footage, and you see a cohesive team. More cohesive than most of the teams out there. TD: Then why is it that you're going out on your own, wearing the... CJ: Woah... I know where you're going with this. I just want to say that wasn't me in the mask, okay? Everyone's going on about how they know it's me, and how I cost Verhoeven the belt. Why the hell would I do that, huh? Just think about it for a second... It doesn't make sense. And look at the people accusing me... Thunder... Oh, yeah, there's a good source of information. The guy wouldn't know what his own daughter looked like if he didn't keep a picture of her wearing a T-shirt reading "I'm your daughter!" in his wallet. Whoever did that mask crap is tarnishing the good name of the Outlaw, I'll tell you that. TD: But... CJ: But nothing. Listen, can we get back to the tag team match? TD: Fair enough. CJ: Alright. Tomorrow, we're facing Cold Spell in a return match. We get to prove that we didn't just luck into these belts in a special circumstance. One team against the other, one pinfall, nothing fancy. Cold Spell got talent, that's for damn sure, but we're just better. No big deal... It happens to all of us. Let's face it, Cold Spell, you shouldn't feel bad. What team out there could beat us? Look at the history. The longest reigning World Heavyweight champ, the only three time former Intercontinental champ... And we move on to new territory. Who didn't expect us to dominate? TD: This brings up another point. You guys have just set another record in the IIWF... You're the only two men to ever hold both singles and tag titles. CJ: Well, of course. That's what our careers are about. See, most people set their goals for the standard. A standard that someone else could very well reach one day when they're good. We shoot for the top. We set our goals so high that the rest of the world just looks on and thinks, "Damn, that's good... I'll never be that good." Yeah, we set a record. It wasn't the first, and it won't be the last. We're the Syndicate, and everyone knows that only the best can say that. TD: Wait, are we talking the stable or the tag team? CJ: We're talking about the _legacy,_ Dross. It doesn't matter what form the Syndicate takes on, it will be the best in it's field. Nobody can top the Syndicate, and nobody... [Looks at the television] Did you see that? Damn, that guy's head exploded! [Turns to Claw] Kids watch this? Man, I gotta spend more time here. TD: So you like Japan... CJ: Well, yeah... Except it seems that every bar's got a Karaoke machine in it somewhere... I don't get that. If I wanted to see people singing badly, I'd just stay in the States and watch MTV. The wrestling here is cool too... That garbage stuff is _crazy._ Landmines and barbed wire. I should start a career here doing that... I could call myself Mr. Bung, and carry around a big ass chainsaw and cut people open with it... And in a cage with electricity and the... TD: Ummm, I'm sorry, Casey... As much as I'm sure the IIWF fans would love to hear your fantasies of participating in some violence league, we're out of time right now. Good luck tomorrow night. CJ: Yeah, whatever... Hey, next time bring some of that double chocolate... Yo, double chocolate, man, double chocolate yo. TD: Ummm, yeah... Well, back to Larry and Brian in the studio... [Fade.] LM: Nice place they had there. BL: A little something I had a hand in, I must admit... I've got connections here... Crazy connections. That's why I need the hired toughs. LM: Has it ever occurred to you that you might not be as important as you think you are? BL: What the hell would you know, Morton? How many cars do you have? How big is _your_ house? Do _you_ have a jet? I do. A jet... You hear me? A _jet,_ Larry. No lineups at the airport, because I've got my own _jet._ First class seats for every trip, because I own the whole _jet._ Excuse me, sir, may I see your boarding pass? Sure thing, darling, look for it in the gutter, along with your stewardess career, because you're fired. This is _my_JET!_ LM: What, like a plane? BL: Yes, Larry... A plane... A big, big... Do you just act like this on purpose, or did you get kicked in the head by a pro soccer player as a child? LM: Damn that Pelé... BL: Oh, for crying out loud... ------------------------------------------ 6. NON-TITLE: Derek Mota vs. Marty Warnett ------------------------------------------ LM: The Heatseeker meets the Party Maniac in a non title match! After Warnett's victory over Chris Quigley, you've got to like him for this match. BL: It makes me cringe to have to like him at all. LM: Huh? BL: Nothing... Sure, Warnett made Quigley look silly. But let's be honest, was that really a hard job? Mota is a whole different kettle of fish. He's high flying, he's got attitude, and most important is the tough little bastard quotient. Mota's particular quotient is pretty high. LM: Admittedly, Mota defended that title with style at the Madness. He's got to be in the zone after that one. BL: And he doesn't even have to worry about losing the title. He can pull out all the stops. LM: Why don't we get some comments from the champ himself? Here's Derek Mota during one of the IIWF house shows... [Cut to the Augusta High School Gym in the heartland of America, the site of the most recent IIWF House Show Tour. Nine hundred fans have gathered to watch what has to be considered a "C" grade show. In the ring, "Nifty" Ned Norton is applying a Wakigatame Arm Bar with less than stellar effect on El Super Gecko. Some guy in the front row, wearing a "Double I Double U F'n F" t-shirt, holds up a "Bring back LaRue" sign. The crowd starts chanting "Boring!" when all of a sudden Gecko climbs to the top rope, hitting a Moonsault for the three count. Gecko leaves the ring in celebration, getting a rare win, while Norton sulks and makes the long walk out of the arena. Unfortunately for him, as he makes his last step to the exit, what could be mistaken as the world's largest ghetto blaster nails him in the head, being wielded by Derek Mota. Mota steps out, forcing Norton to carry the ghetto blaster to the ring, with "Dividing Line" by Genesis playing out loudly. We see Mota threatening Norton, who isn't putting up much of a fight, already having lost tonight. Mota finally steps into the ring, house mic in hand. Norton is told to turn off the music as Mota begins to speak.] DM: Cruiserweight Title Tournament! So I wake up after Midsummer Madness, thinkin' what I'm gonna do with my life now that I'm on top of the world, then I look at the sad state of the Cruiserweight Division in the IIWF. We got Dexter St. Croix here, right off the weed, followin' me around the world, sayin' he's the next Cruiserweight Champ. Well kid, let's make this simple. Lebec beat you in the ring. I beat Lebec AND Allah at the same time. What makes you think you have ANY chance against the Heatseeker? Tell ya what. You wanna match against me? You got it. Now you wanna title match against me? You gotta prove that you're worth it. You guys all know what I think of Shakespeare. Sure, he plugs in his quotes in there every week, but it ain't William Shakespeare that's gonna win him his matches. Sure, he beat the fat slob, but the guy's so fat he can't even walk around the ring! Yeah, he beat the pudgy faced guy, but that kid ran so fast outta the IIWF, he didn't beat no one! And then there's the other guy ... the wanna-be tough guy ... ah, can't remember his name. Whatever. If you can't remember, it can't be too important, can it? So I go in and beat two guys at the same time, and what does the brass go ahead and do? They put me up against Marty Warnett! What the hell is that? Some eighties reject who thinks that putting on a little makeup and hair spray before goin' out is cool, the little glam Poison wannabe. Warnett, you may be hot off a win against Chris Quigley, but that don't mean [BLEEP] to me! Warnett, you may be bigger than me, you may be a better technical wrestler, but you know what? I want it more than you. And I'm willin' ta do anythin' ta get it. Ask Genesis. Ask Allah. Ask Lebec. And in Tokyo, Japan, home of my "favorite" wrestler Joe Petrow, I'm gonna show you all what "wantin' it" is all about. So put me up against St. Croix, put me up against Warnett, or even put me up against that fat gronk Tonnage, it don't matter ta me! Cause at the end of the night, I'm still gonna be the Cruiserweight Champ, and everyone else? Well, they're just gonna have ta be happy with #2. Norton, let's get the hell outta here. [Mota slams the mic to the ground, a devilish smile on his face, as the crowd begins booing him loudly. Norton turns on the ghetto blaster as they leave, as "Candle in the Wind" by Elton John is playing. Fade out.] LM: What an attitude. BL: What have I told you, Morton? It's that attitude that's got him winning matches. The guy doesn't care. He's got no friends, so nobody can turn on him. He sees everyone as a potential opponent. It's a great strategy. LM: He didn't show much respect for Warnett's win against Quigley. BL: So he's falling in line with the pulse of the IIWF. _Nobody_ respects Quigley. LM: Well, speaking of folks who don't respect Quigley, let's hear from Marty Warnett... Let's roll that tape. [SCENE: A crowded Portland arena, after an IIWF house show. Tim Dross stands alone in the ring, trying to dodge beer cups being thrown after a typical IIWF screwjob ending to the main event of the evening. He looks around, as a peanut rebounds from his nose.] TD: Owwww! Ladies and gentleman, at this time, it's my pleasure to introduce to you, the one, the only, Paaaarrrrty Maniac, Marty Warnett! [The predominantly young crowd pop big-time, as "Just Like Paradise" kicks in. From behind the curtains, the young Welshman appears, wearing his usual ripped jeans, a denim jacket and red bandana, as he casually strolls down the aisle, pausing only to greet the fans. He enters the ring, climbing up onto a turnbuckle, to acknowledge a particularly young, particularly female section of the crowd.] MW: Well, all right there! [crowd pop] How ya doin', Dross? TD: [after ducking to avoid a beer can thrown by a Sychopath] Not too bad if I can survive tonight. I'm sure everybody wants to know your thoughts on Chris Quigley. [Marty waits for the pop to subside before answering.] MW: Well, Tim, what can I say? Chris wrestled a great match, and I didn't expect anything else from the man. I don't like him, but take nothing away from his ring abilities. What I will say, Chris, is this. I offered my hand after the bout, as I would've done, win, loss or draw because that was a great match. I've had the honour of being in some good technical matches with Lord Byron, and Chris is definitely up there at that level. What does Chris do? Flip the finger. [crowd give a mixed pop]. What can I say, Dross? Now, I know Chris hates losing, and losing by a clean pin to me has to bug him immensely, but, Chris, if that's what you wanna do in the ring, why not shave your head and grow a goatee coz I've heard the man in the North East fed has a neck problem ... [crowd pop]. TD: Well, errr, yes, I suppose. Chris was definitely upset over the loss, and his comments on Monday night certainly indicate that; the question is, when will it end between you? [Marty looks to the crowd, who respond enthusiastically.] MW: It'll end whenever it ends, Dross. If we meet again, you, I, the whole damn world will see two top athletes give their all. TD: Okay, what next for Marty? MW: That's all up in the air. Whenever I've been involved in lengthy feuds, I've always found that there's been no visible opponent for a few weeks afterwards. Of course, this week I meet a champion ... TD: Yes, this Saturday, fans, Marty meets the Cruiserweight champion, Derek Mota. Your thoughts? MW: Mota. Tough man, taken a lot of beatings from Genesis [heel pop]. I expect them to get involved, but maybe they should keep their noses out of my bouts, and keep them around Requiem's ass! [crowd pop] TD: Will you lose weight to try to make it a title shot? MW: [smiling] No. Dross, the partyin' and all, fighting opponents is one thing, but fighting the weight is another ... TD: Finally, any thoughts on the state of the IIWF? MW: Hell, no, Dross, I've only been here for fifty bouts, it's not like I care about this place [laughs]. It seems to me that too many people don't want to wrestle, they want to brawl, use chairs, gang attacks, whatever to get the job done. Quigley and myself showed that how big, how heavy, even if you claim to be a three hundred year old tax dodger, liberating money from the rich to help your poor pocket, you can't swing a chair whilst in an STF. Dross, whilst everybody wants to join their local neighborhood Portland gang, I'll just party my way to gold. TD: The Heavyweight title? MW: If the match is made ... and don't forget, I never did get a chance to win the Intercontinental title back. My contract is open, I'll face anybody, anytime, anywhere, and Dross, I ain't gonna wear a Michael Jackson glove whilst saying that. Ciao. [With that, Marty starts posing for the crowd, who react as per usual. Cut back to the studio.] LM: I wonder where we'll see Marty going from this point. BL: I think he's got title contention coming up for him again. The suits love a money maker, and I know that there's parents around the world complaining about shelling out close to thirty bucks for every IIWF Pay Per view and house show... Particularly the parents of thirteen year old girls. LM: Not that Warnett would engage in that sort of action, of course. [Brian remains silent as Larry waits for an answer.] LM: I mean, he wouldn't get involved in any sort of relationship with them, right? [Again, silence.] LM: Come on, Brian, say it. BL: Say what? LM: Warnett wouldn't get involved with his fans, right? [Silence.] LM: Say it. BL: You know, you've singlehandedly blown that little joke way out of proportion, and will probably end up hearing from Warnett's lawyers tomorrow. LM: Evil little man... BL: That's me. ------------------------------------------------------ 7. IIWF INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: Mad Dog Watkins [c] vs. "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley ------------------------------------------------------ LM: Quigley gets a shot at the IC belt tomorrow night... BL: My god, how many title shots is this for him? I don't think there's another IIWF star alive that has had more title shots than Chris "Squeaky wheel" Quigley. LM: Well, he earns them. BL: How? By losing to Warnett? LM: Well, it's obvious the championship committee feels that he deserves it. BL: Worst decision they ever made. LM: I think this match could be rather interesting. Quigley has stated that there might be a change coming from him in the next little while. BL: Oh, yes... He's going to start whining... Oh, wait, no... He does that already. Okay, he's going to start being arrogant... No, that wouldn't be a change either... Go anti-American? No, he's done that... LM: He has not! BL: Wait, yes he has... Oh, no... That's the other guy... Honest mistake... Let's talk about the Mad Dog for a while. He's going to kick Quigley's ass. LM: Watkins has had quite a grip on that IC title since winning it. Do you think he can keep a hold of it? BL: Against Quigley? I'd put money on it... LM: How about your jet? BL: My _jet,_ Larry? What would you do with my _jet?_ LM: Never mind. We'll see that great match tomorrow at the Egg Dome right here in Tokyo Japan, weather permitting! BL: Huh? LM: Well, it might rain. BL: So? LM: Well, it's a stadium, right? BL: It's a _dome,_ idiot, hence the name Egg _Dome._ LM: Oh... Really? BL: All right, now I know you're doing this on purpose. --------------------------------------------- 8. IIWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: Requiem [c] vs. "Sychosys" Joe Petrow --------------------------------------------- LM: In the aftermath of the Madness, if there was any match to be booked, it was this one. Joe Petrow against Requiem. BL: Could you imagine Petrow as champ? Could you imagine a nut like that with the pull of a champion? LM: It wouldn't be so bad. BL: What, has he promised you a Chuck Norris wing in the IIWF Hall Of Fame? LM: No... Although that would be neat... BL: Forget I even brought it up. Anyway, as much as I talk about Petrow being an odd champion, he'd be better than Requiem. A goldfish would make a better champ than Requiem... It would probably have a better workrate as well. LM: I don't know that Requiem's workrate is all that bad, really. BL: Hello? Joke, Morton... Jeez, you're dumb. LM: I... Well... BL: Just shut up... I'm actually looking forward to this match. It should give the guy in the Outlaw mask a chance to redeem himself and shoot Requiem... You hear me, masked man? Redeem yourself! LM: What are you going on about? BL: Nothing... Forget it. LM: Okay, then... First off, let's get comments from the challenger in this match, "Sychosys" Joe Petrow... [It is just after dawn, and "Sychosys" Joe Petrow stands on the Special Observation Deck of the Tokyo Tower, hundreds of meters above the sprawling Metropolis. From where Petrow stands, the Tokyo Egg Dome is clearly visible in the distance, the overcast clouds above giving fair warning of the impending typhoon on its way. In simple t-shirt and jeans, Petrow calmly delivers his interview.] JP: First of all, I'd like to thank the people involved in the FWL awards, for naming me Best Interviewee, and also naming my Starsault Press as the Best Finishing Move of the year. I'd also like to congratulate Requiem, on being acknowledged as of the best gimmick wrestlers in the world, and commend him on once again embarrassing the IIWF, this time by getting pinned at another organizations' pay-per-view earlier this week. Obviously, he's so good at making us all look bad, that he must be actively trying to do so. Despite my so-called interviewing prowess, I'm gonna keep this brief. Requiem, I've thought over and over in my head how I would ever approach a title match with you. I thought of so many cute and clever ways of keeping your Genesis dogs at bay, and somehow, someway, wresting that belt from around your waist. Then I found out I would finally get the title shot after all. And I flushed all those plans down the toilet. Why? Because this [Petrow holds out his arms to the horizon] is my land. Tokyo. Japan. And here, we only have one way of doing things. Go out and give it everything you've got, no tricks necessary. Why don't I have to worry anymore? Because in Japan, in my land, all matches, all acts of life, are governed by the Natural Law of the Universe. It doesn't matter what you do Requiem. You can pull out every trick in the book, you can have every member of Genesis ready to jump me from behind, you can have every nuclear warhead in the world set to slam into my skull at the same moment. It won't matter. Because this match has already been decided, by a power that even whatever god you believe in must answer to. The power of destiny. And the destiny of all, the true order of the universe...is disorder. The random, chance collection of molecules that make up you and I cannot last for any measurable length of time. Ultimately, all the elaborate plans of man, all the hopes and dreams they create, last but a instant in the grand scheme of it all, before returning to its original state, never to return again. Requiem, you claim to be the Angel of Destruction? Well, Saturday Night...you will meet Chaos. Look in the mirror tonight Requiem. Look long and hard...at the true face of the Unknowingly Damned. [Petrow walks away from the set, as the camera zooms in to get a close-up of the Tokyo Egg Dome. Fade out.] LM: Joe seems almost lucid here in Japan. BL: The place has a calming effect, I can say that. LM: What, with these crazy storms and all the people and the wind and the little guy in the alley who kicks you and takes your Yen because you won't listen to him sing and the... BL: Wait, wait... Rewind there for a second... The what? LM: Oh, did I say that out loud? BL: You're a piece of work, Larry. LM: Thank you. Let's move on and get comments from the IIWF World Heavyweight champion, Requiem... [SCENE: The Cathedral of Souls, the Sanctum Sanctorum of Requiem. The vast cavern sits in blackness, the smoke of a thousand candles still squats heavily in the air, but the candles are all extinguished. The place is in darkness, save for a tiny glow in the centre of the great cavern. As the camera moves in, the glow is revealed to be the dim illumination of a circular bank of video monitors, each playing various scenes in slow motion from the Otto Verhoeven vs. Requiem match. On one, Joe Petrow launches himself into the air to come crashing down upon Genesis outside the ring, another shows Requiem guillotining Verhoeven, yet a third shows an impressive Verhoeven Slaughterslam. The fourth, the "U-bend" inverted Camel Clutch, a fifth shows the mysterious "Outlaw". The sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh and twelfth all show Joe Petrow at varying stages throughout the match. Changing focus slightly, the blur in the centre of the ring of monitors is revealed to be Requiem, dressed in plain black denim shirt and trousers, and using a remote control to wind scenes backwards and forwards. Requiem looks... strange. Though he seems to be studying the match he appears unfocused, distant. A pencil and a pad sits loosely upon his knee, upon which intricate diagrams can be seen, but not discerned:] RQ: Petrow... Petrow... Coors... Maurice... Kowalski... Kiwi... Kiwi... crap spelling... Wile E. Coyote... My Name Is Mud... "Rosebud"... VO: He's been like this for most of the week. When he's not training, he is watching this, every day for the past week or so. Ever since Midsummer Madness. If he's not careful he's going to turn into the world's strongest coach potato. God alone knows what he's doing... [The camera swivels around to reveal Gabrielle, dressed in a white blouse and levi jeans, looking on concernedly. The camera swivels back to Requiem, who is now fastforwarding one of the videos to the end of the match, until he reaches what he is searching for, and the camera zooms in close...] [SCENE: Suddenly, the crowd explodes yet again as Petrow lunges at Requiem, punching, kicking and screaming at the champion: "YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU RUINED IT! YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!" The rest of Genesis stand aghast for a moment, shocked at Petrow's assault -- and are then forced to try and drag Petrow away from their leader as he applies the Mandible Claw on Requiem! Requiem slumps to the mat, apparently paralyzed by the intense pain of the claw hold being pressed under his tongue, Petrow still screaming, "YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS, DAMMIT! THE SYCHOPATHS WILL BE AVENGED!" Finally, Genesis manage to drag Petrow away from Requiem, Cold Spell tending to the champion, while Annis, Rogers and Highwayman begin to lay one hell of a beating on Petrow.] TD: Joe Petrow attacking Requiem in a near-suicidal decision, Steve Roberts! Petrow waited until the whole of Genesis were in the ring -- and then he attacked the champion! They're going to kill him in there! SR: Good, Dross! Good! That moron made a million bad decisions in that match -- and now he's going to pay for it! [The camera moves away from the replayed screen, to focus once more upon Requiem, who appears to be staring at a point approximately 12,000 miles behind the camera...] RQ: [mumbling] Petrow! Oh, how you will pay, Joe Petrow... Joe "Barking Mad" Petrow! You need help, Joe. Oh, yes, you do. Ruined it? Ruin? Devastation... wreck... decay... ravage... damage... spoil... vandalize... destroy... [Requiem's eyes, seemingly bleary, suddenly snap wide open and stare out into television land...] RQ: DESTROY?! DESTRUCTION! Yes! I am the Angel Of Destruction! I am The Requiem! [Requiem blinks once, then slowly grins maliciously, looking out from his white eyes almost normally now...] RQ: Phew, that was close. Joe, I've been trying to figure out how that surreal little mind of yours work, and you know what? It's damn dangerous work! I could almost feel the madness rays emanating from your tiny little cerebellum... You almost got me there, Joe! But don't worry, I know the trap for what it is, and so you won't catch me like that again. I've been trying to climb inside what others laughingly refer to as your 'mind', but I prefer the more technical term "void". It's pretty tough going. So tough going that I'm not going to bother anymore. No more mindgames. No more tricks. Just honest-to-god brutality, Joe Petrow. Joe, you and I meet in Japan. Your home away from home, or whatever. Well, Joe, after my not so hot performance at Midsummer Madness, helped and hindered by refereeing from Joe "I'll work for Prozac" Petrow, I've got something to demonstrate. What? You'll see... This Saturday, Joe, it's you and me for all the marbles, even if you've already lost all yours. And that's just how it's going to be, Joe. You and me. Man versus Bedlamite. Angel Of Destruction versus Lovable Lunatic. We'll see who wins. But I'll tell you something, Joe: I may not have done too well last week, but this week I've got something to prove, to you, to the fans out there, and to me... [Requiem raises one huge fist, and smiles grimly] RQ: I'm coming for you, Joe, and I've got all the Electroshock Therapy you need right here... They used to shoot mad dogs, so you'd better hope my treatment works! Otherwise... you'll wish somebody would be merciful enough to put you out of your misery. But it won't be me, Joe, it won't be me... Why? You know why... There can be no mercy for the damned... VO: It's good to have you back to normal, Bro! RQ: Normal? Oh, no, Gabrielle. Not normal. If all goes well, Joe Petrow will discover that for himself... VO: Whatever. Better pack, we got a plane to catch. RQ: I travel light, Gabrielle. The only things I need carry with me are my clothes and a burning desire to cure the IIWF of a bad case of Joe Petrow! [Fade.] BL: That would explain the smell. He obviously forgot his toiletries. LM: Is that what that was? BL: Could be... I wonder what his cable bill is like... LM: I think that gets taken care of through the IIWF expense account. BL: You should complain, Larry... With the salary we're getting? LM: Why don't you complain? BL: Because I don't care... I'm doing this job for fun, not money. LM: Fun? It sounds like you hate being here! BL: No, it's fun harrassing you week after week. LM: Glad to hear it... Well, folks, let's move on to our next segment, IIWF Trash Talk... Apparently, Brian feels that he doesn't need to do the editorial based on some political motive or something... BL: No, I just don't feel like doing it. LM: Great... Let's move on. ======================================================================== ----------------------------IIWF-TRASH-TALK----------------------------- ======================================================================== LM: The tag ranks are heating up in the IIWF with the arrival of several new teams. Damage Incorporated, heralded by many as the best in the sport, are among them. BL: Have they fought the Syndicate? LM: No, I don't think so... BL: Then they're not even near being the best. LM: Thanks for the input, Brian. Another one of those new teams is the Natural Predators... BL: Isn't that a comic book? LM: No, no it's not. BL: You read comics, don't you? LM: What's wrong with that? BL: Oh, nothing... Nothing at all. LM: I didn't think so... Let's hear comments from the Natural Predators. [BEAR and WOLF stand in a Boston rainfall that pounds at them. Under cover at a pavilion, watching them, is their manager, KUYLER GREYSON. The rainfall is steady, and the spotlights from the camera show the intensity on both men's faces. Qkumba Zoo's "Rain" begins to play in the background. The camera slowly pans over to BEAR] QKUMBA: "Neyheho, Neyheho...." [superimposed clips of Bear in the ring, showing his strength and skill against FFPW and SAW competitors. It's easy to understand the brute strength behind the size as the song continues "Walking...Lost in the rainy season... water drips...from the vine.... I seek the places The earth tries to hide... Ancient voices... Sing to me.... Neyeha neyaho neheyo neheyo o-hay (Ti-yu! ti-yah!) Ancient voices... Sing to me.... Neyeha neyaho neheyo neheyo o-hay (Ti-yu! ti-yah!)" [The camera pans to WOLF, superimposing clips showing speed and aerial tactics against SAW and FFPW competition. A strong contrast to the overwhelming power of BEAR, Wolf's movements are fluid and graceful.] "Can you see the light in the desert? That tasted like a raindrop... (Bayate! Bayate maran...) Listen to the voice of thunder (Basa-qhuma!) And rain.... Rain..." [The camera pulls back to a wide angle shot of the two of them, kneeling in the rainstorm, superimposing images of the NATURAL SELECTION over them, as well as the moments they won the SAW TV Tag Titles and the FFPW Continental Tag Team Championship.] "Ancient voices... Sing to me.... Neyeha neyaho neheyo neheyo o-hay (Ti-yu! ti-yah!) Ancient voices... Sing to me.... Neyeha neyaho neheyo neheyo o-hay (Ti-yu! ti-yah!)" [The music fades to background as the camera pans over to KUYLER, who addresses the camera:] KG: Looks like the IIWF has opened its lovin' arms to accept us once and for all. Good thing. These boys have been with me from the start, and I built up a Dynasty around them that the wrestling world won't soon forget... [He hops down off the bench he sat upon, walks to the edge of the pavilion:] KG: Speaking of which... seems like the IIWF is in a state of crisis. A lot of people don't know what or who is worth rooting for. On the one hand, you have Genesis... dance pop band turned stable. The ideal is good, the method is bad... like shooting a dog to get rid of fleas.... [BEAR and WOLF rise to their feet, the rolling thunder in the background:] KG: Then you have backstabs, Old Gen, Age of Rage, etc. etc. to further muddy the issue. I'd guess the average fan is saying to him or herself now, "Self... who is there left? Who is someone I can get behind, believe in? Some one who knows who they are?" [He walks into the rain, between the two Native Americans, placing a hand on each of their shoulders:] KG: May I introduce the rebirth of the classic professional wrestler. Two men you can get behind... Bear and Wolf, the Natural Predators. B: [focused straight forward to the camera] The spirits call us once more to greatness. Neyho neyehe-hiyo. We shall triumph. W: [focused forward in the same way as BEAR] Let our strength be theirs...and the power of the spirits course through us to gain them greater glory. Neyho neyehe-hiyo. We shall triumph. KG- Fans...you're looking at the new blood of IIWF. What you also get with these boys is a little soul as well. The future is now...and the long road ahead may daunt some...but my boys? [shakes his head] Best of the best. [The song swells as the camera fades to black...] QKUMBA: "Ancient voices... (bayaquma, bayaquma...) Sing to me.... (basaquma, basaquma) Neyeha neyaho neheyo neheyo o-hay (Ti-yu! ti-yah!)...." [Cut back to the studio.] BL: Oh, no... Two guys for the Injuninja to play with... LM: Is there some sort of racist comment in there about Native Americans? BL: No... They're just two guys that the Injuninja can play with... With their "We are the spirit buddies," and "May the big great eagle drop a big white glob of spirit on my head," and such. LM: You just don't care about offending anyone, do you? BL: Not really... To be honest, it's actually kind of fun... [The picture starts to break up.] LM: Oh, wonderful... It looks like the brunt of the storm has hit the city, since our link to the satellite is weakening... BL: Yeah, like you'd know... Why don't you tell the people at home that someone just told you that? LM: It doesn't matter, Brian. Folks, it looks like we're going to have to bring this show to a close. Hopefully, the storm will be merciful, and not cause the cancellation of this great card. Check local listings tomorrow night for that great card! Until then, this is Larry Morton for Brian... [The screen bursts into a barrage of static, the link completely severed. Obviously, a quick thinker at the Portland studios is on the job, as a shot of Brian Lau verbally berating Larry Morton in the Countdown studio in Portland is shown with the credits superimposed over them. 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+