________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| |\ /| /\ |\ | | /\ \ / | || | \ v v / | __| | v |/ \| \| __| /__\ \/ |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| | |\ /| |/ |/ \/ | | \/ | |\_// /\ |\ /| | _ | / __ / __ | v | | | / \ . |\ | / \ / \ | | | | \__ | | \| | __ \__ 6 October 1997 | | | | \ | | | \__| \ .....................|..v_____/.|.|..|____|____/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The camera fades in from black. It pans back from the black t-shirt which adorns the body of Brody Thunder. Thunder's back is to the camera as he begins speaking...] BT: Heh, heh, heh. Ever heard the story o' the scorpion an' the turtle? Seems this orn'ry scorpion wanted to cross a river. He couldn't swim an' so he asked a nearby turtle for a ride on his back across the river. The turtle be wary o' the scorpion, says " How do I know ya won't sting me when we get halfway there?". The scorpion jus' laughs an' says "If I did then we'll both drown, wouldn't we?" The turtle thought about it fer jus' a minnit an' decided that the scorpion was right an' so he gave him a ride. An' ya know what? Sure enough, 'bout halfway across the river, that scorpion up an' stings the turtle in the head. The turtle looks back at the scorpion an' says, "Why'd ya do that fer? Now we're both gonna drown." The scorpion jus' looks at the turtle an' smiles sayin' "Can't help it... [Thunder turns around an' grins an evil smile into the camera.] ...it's jus' my nature." Why'd I do what I did? "It's jus' my nature". Plain an' simple. Every time I've relied on someone else fer somethin' it never got done. From Billy-boy Shakespeare... ta Casey James an' the Syndicate... ta that egomaniac Hardin. Everyone o' ya that I left laid out deserved it. I'm thru countin' on folks ta watch my back... ta pull their share o' the load... it don't pay well. By doin' jus' what I did I know I'm gonna be wearin' a bullseye now. A target. Suits me fine. I like bein' the center o' attention. But I wanna make this crystal clear. I know the challengers are gonna start linin' up fer a shot at this here strap... but there's one man who better think twice 'fore he comes lookin' fer me. An' that's you, Hardin. I've heard the legend. But ya know sumthin', ace? Legends are nuthin' more'n exaggerations. Fantasies. The wishful thinkin' o' the mediocre. I don't believe in legends, Hardin. Yer jus' a man. Flesh an' blood. Skin an' bones. Same as me. Ya had yer fifteen minutes o' fame,sport. S'time ta move on. Cuz I'll tell ya right now... if ya come lookin' fer me... ...ya ain't gonna like what ya find, amigo. The legend's over. Learn ta live with it. It'll be a lot healthier if ya do. An' that goes fer all the rest o' ya so-called superstars. If ya wannna see how if yer any good... go wrestle Quigley, Kowalski or James. But if ya wanna see if yer the best... then come talk ta me. It's like I always say... I ain't a hard man ta find... ...I'm jus' a hard man ta beat. That's a fact. Learn ta live with it. [Thunder walks straight into the camera as it fades to black...] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: The IIWF interview area. "Nifty" Ned Norton is sitting on a stool, clearing his throat in preparation for his interview when a large hand reaches in and yanks him out of the shot. A thud can be heard before "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin walks into the picture.] JWH: A shadow ain't such a big thing, Thunder. I was wonderin' when you'd be man enough to crawl outta mine. You wanna be yer own man and soar with the eagles? Well eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines. Requiem couldn't beat you one on one, but _you_ couldn't beat him one on one either. Yer like a [BLEEP]in' Barbie doll -- so damn popular, but still have to buy her friends. Well, Thunder, yer only friend right now is the bookerman... so git good n' soapy in the shower an' bend over while you wait for him. Then wait for yer downfall... 'cause yer gonna need a blood test when you've been screwed over by the dirtiest hombre wearing a red glove. [Hardin holds a IIWF contract in front of the camera and tears it in half.] JWH: Depression ain't nothin' but anger without enthusiasm... [muttering] ...and I'm gettin' too old fer this crap. [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Otto "the Butcher" Verhoeven ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The IIWF interview area. Verhoeven, still in his street clothes and holding a pack of ice against his head, is pacing back and forth, his face red with rage.] OV: Thunder! I will NOT take this, are you listening? I will not tolerate your cheap attacks! Damn it I am the Butcher! I am the one who should bust heads and take names, not that dung-smoking cowboy! James, Claw, Hardin... damn you too! I thought we were allies. There was NO reason for that unprovoked assault on me! Believe me, I do not forget things like that. Never! Enjoy your reign as long as it lasts, Brody, buy some nice presents for Frau Thunder and your kid, smoke some havannas, enjoy your best whiskey. You made too many enemies in one night to survive in the IIWF on your own! Revenge shall be MINE! [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Chris Quigley ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Backstage after IIWF Saturday Night. An irate Chris Quigley storms through the curtain, his gear tattered, his face full of sweat and his mouth trickling with blood. As Quigley stares into the camera, Steve Manning wheels himself through the curtain, and sets himself up at Quigley's side. Manning's face brings new meaning to the phrase "pissed off".] CQ: [yelling] There's gotta be a huge problem here, when you get some crazed son of a bitch storming the ring, knocking over a _cripple_, and then cleaning house with a wheelchair! What kind of security does the IIWF have, anyway?! He could've killed Manning, he tried to kill Creed and me! But lemme tell you this, Annis! _Nobody_ does that to me and gets away with it! You ruined my first defense, but my second defense will be a different story. Your ass is grass, and I'm the lawnmower! [Steve Manning's face turns from anger to joy in a split second as he begins to speak.] SM: And Serge Anus... Annis... whatever! I'm feeling adventurous. I'll be at ringside next weekend, but don't worry your little head. I'm perfectly helpless! You don't need to watch your back. I wouldn't hurt a fly! [Just then, what seems to be a fly, perches on Manning's face, and he slaps his face HARD, killing the fly, and leaving a huge red mark along his cheek.] CQ: And Macbeth! That was just a great joke tonight. Real hilarious. Putting a dress on me. Didya think of that one by yourself? Yeah, I know who you are now, and I'm still not impressed. Seems to me that your the one taking _me_ lightly, and after Ring Wars IV is said and done, that'll be the biggest mistake of your life. You wanna add something, Steve? SM: I've had to deal with Brody Thunder's southern drawl, Creed's sloppy Ebonics, and Otto Verhoeven's German gibberish, and now it's Macbeth and whatever the hell it is he's trying to say out there. Sometimes I think I'm the only one in the IIWF who can speak english. But lemme give you a message that's pretty universal... [BLEEEEEEP] YOU!!!!!! [Manning raises two middle fingers into the screen, as Quigley glances down at Manning, shakes his head, and looks back at the camera. He looks back down at Manning, and then raises a middle finger of his own into the camera, before walking away. Manning, seemingly lost in a trance, continues to hold his fingers in the air for a few moments, until he looks back up at Quigley, realizes he's not there, and quickly wheels off after him. The squeaking of the wheels are still heard as the camera fades...] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Creed ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Moments after the shocking conclusion to IIWF Saturday Night, the red gloved superstar Creed paces across the IIWF interview area... Creed is clearly upset, tightly shaking his head back and forth while he holds his left arm very closely against a pad which covers his apparently damaged ribs.] C : Dammit, Annis. What the hell is wrong with you? You wanna go with Creed? That works. I don't duck nobody, even someone like you who ain't never done a damn thing by yo'self 'round here in nine months. And you wanna backjump me? Whatever, Annis. If I you -- I ain't comin' at me head up either. Too much man up in here, Annis. I wouldn't figure a Requiem Waterboy like you go any other way. But... damn... Annis. Not tonight, man. I waited a year for this match. This the guy I wanted to beat since I got here, Annis. I been waiting a damn year to get that punk Quigley in the ring -- and I kick his ass up and down Portland for 20 minutes... he cheapshot me... he use his crippled buddy... he use every dirty trick his phony ass know... And I still kick Quigley's ass. Cause I'll always kick Quigley's ass. Cause I better than Quigley. I better than Quigley when I got here -- I better than Quigley tonight -- and I be better than Quigley until they drag one of us clear out of the IIWF. But I don't get the win. I don't get what I waited a whole damn year of my life for, Annis -- cause your damn Water Carrying ass got to get in my business. Okay. You wanted my attention, Waterboy, you got my attention. Now you stuck with me. You stuck with Creed, Annis. Ev'rywhere you go...ev'rything you do... You gonna find Creed. You wanted me, Waterboy? You wanted Creed? You got Creed. And Quigley... stay the {BLEEP} out of my way. [Creed winces slightly as the shot fades.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Serge Annis ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scene: Genesis' version of the IIWF logo. The frame of the 6'8, 290 pound Epitome of Evil stands before it.] SA: Well well well.. tonight got many a thing accomplished. Let's start with you Marty Warnette. The party's over. I told you that you didn't want to party with the Epitome, but yet your ego seemed to get the best of you, as you came out anyway. I beat you within an inch of your life. I could have let that paramedic crew wheel you away. But I didn't, because I was not done with you. Young Marty, you served as merely an example for what Serge Annis has in store for all his opponents. Derek mota and Simon Lebec... well, you two guys got what you deserved. The new Genesis won't be walked over like yesterday's paper. If you thought you were going to get to the ring... then you obviously weren't thinking straight, because I won't allow it. Scott and Adam, I don't know what is up with you two. You have to get your heads together just like we planned. If The New Genesis are to go anywhere, it rests on your shoulders to get allong. Heh heh... or else you'll find things crumbling, at your very feet... heh heh... And lastly, I bet everyone is wondering why Serge Annis would interject himself with a Creed-Quigley match. CREED DIDN'T DESERVE TO BE IN ANY INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!!! The bugger just marches back into IIWF expecting everyone to bow down in his pressence? I just don't see things that way Creed. You can't come back and run your mouth at everyone, especially Genesis. It was only a matter of time, young rookie, before you learned that lesson. I've worked long and hard to get where I am, and I deserve an IC title shot, _Not_ you. So I took it away from you. Why? Because I had the power. Heh heh... the blood you tasted Creed, is nothing short of what I have intended for you should you get in my way. Quigley, consider yourself lucky you got by Creed on Saturday... because... you sure as _Hell_ won't get by the Epitome of Evil so easily... [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Duncan Macbeth ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Fade up on Duncan Macbeth in the IIWF interview area shortly after the conclusion of last Saturday's card, still clad in his kilt, dress shirt and sport coat, and holding the steel briefcase he used to attack Intercontinental champion Chris Quigley earlier in the evening. Macbeth is sporting a huge grin, and chuckles to himself for a moment before levelling his trademark jade stare at the camera.] DM: Quite a night, wouldn't yis agree? Tonight we saw how th' once mighty Genesis has crumbled away t' nothin'. We saw Requiem defeated in 'is first match without all 'is hangers-on at ringside t' save 'is overrated arse. No surprise there, wha'. An' we saw how Highwayman an' tha' talentless nitwit Rogers, th' last rats on th' sinkin' ship, were humbled by th' most dominant combination in th' IIWF, Turner an' Macbeth. Th' Soundbite was ne'er more right when he called us tha', an' I'm sure I speak fer Tim when I say tha' we're willin' t' prove as much t' any tag team tha' dares t' challenge us -- ESPECIALLY th' Syndicate! [Macbeth's demeanour turns more serious, and his piercing green eyes glitter eerily in the glare of the television lights.] DM: But wha' I really want t' talk about righ' now is tha' tossin' excuse fer an Intercontinental champion, Chrissie Kick-me. Ye really seem t' have a bad habit o' puttin' yuir foot in yuir mouth these days, don't ye, "champ"? Ye said ye've ne'er lost t' someone ye'd ne'er heard of, well, I think we're well enough acquainted now, wouldn't ye say? [Macbeth pats the steel briefcase, and continues.] DM: Ye say th' Intercontinental belt will ne'er be worn above a skirt? Well, seein' as how ye've suddenly takin t' wearin' skirts yuirself, tha's no' exactly true either, is it? Heh heh... by th' bye, pink's definitely yuir colour, lassie. As fer yuir last foolish statement -- how _nobody_ can get tha' belt as long as it's around yuir waist -- I'm afraid ye're goin' t' be proven wrong yet AGAIN, tosser, at Ring Wars IV. Just call me Mr. Nobody, wha'. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Timothy N. Turner ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Timothy N. Turner is standing in the IIWF interview area. He looks annoyed and is playing with some kind of papers in his hands.] TNT: Tonight you saw something unprecedented. You saw Duncan Macbeth and Timothy N. Turner bring an end to Genesis. That was the real main event on a card filled with them. Brody Thunder? ho cares? We're talking about Timothy N. Turner and Duncan Macbeth! The two biggest names in the sport today! So what happens after we beat Genesis senseless and the fans realize who the best wrestlers in the sport are? Do we get our well deserved shot at that pathetic little Syndicate? No. Duncan has to fight Luke Steele. What for? That moron couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag and he's supposed to take on the next Intercontinental Champion? Get real. Who do I get to fight? Nobody. That's right. Instead of getting the title shot I deserve, I'm getting a vacation. O'kay, fine. If that's the way it's going to be, that's the way it's going to be. I'm going home. [He holds up the paper in his hand] TNT: I've got my airline ticket right here and I'm heading back to Victoria for the week. Don't expect to hear from me again this week. I'll be back after Saturday. See you. [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Scott Rogers ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [A deserted locker room. Saturday Night has evidently drawn to a close. Running water can be heard from off camera. The camera swings to the left; the water stops. A plastic door can be heard slamming shut. Suddenly Scott Rogers' massive frame, with only a towel around his waist, opens another door and looks directly at the camera. He grabs another towel and starts drying his hair. The cameraman follows his every move. Rogers puts his bright green polo shirt on, then a pair of jeans. He removes the towel from around his waist and tosses it on the floor. He runs his hands through his hair and tosses the other towel down too. He picks up a small black rucksack and puts one strap over his shoulder. He pushes the cameraman out of his way, causing him to fall back against the locker room wall with a thud. Rogers walks out the door and slams it shut behind him.] [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Billy Shakespeare quickly passes through the interview area. He sees the camera, and is about to leave, but changes his mind.] BS: The throngs have spoken. They want Billy Shakespeare as their Cruiserweight champion. Now it's time to earn their love. [He grins slyly, executes his trademark grand bow, then exits. Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ronnie Paris ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Ronnie Paris stands in front of the Monday Musings backdrop, noticeably peeved. He's pacing back and forth, waiting for a cue from someone offscreen. Someone who it would seem Ronnie isn't too found of, as when the cameraman finally gives consent Paris shoots him a dirty look before beginning.] RP: Voice of the people, Billy Shakespeare? You know, all you did tonight was go out and prove what I've always said... that the IIWF fans don't know wrestling. Dross may try to salvage credability by saying titles aren't decided by popularity contests, but too often they are, and it really bothers me. Have you ever gotten to that point where you just can't believe how dumb everyone else is? It always eludes me just what the hell they put in Portland's water to bring out the stupid genes... The Cruiserweight title shot should rightfully be mine, if we went on talent alone, but unfortunately that's not always how success comes in the IIWF. Billy, for example, earned his Intercontinental title run on his knees, if you know what I mean. Ask your mom if you don't. Ronnie Paris doesn't do that, though, so I get screwed figuratively as opposed to the alternative. Well, Billy, put on your clownsuit and ham it up with the fans all you want while I keep getting shafted. Please, I want you to. You know why? It just makes it all the more sweet when I beat you once again, cleanly as always, and this time for the Cruiserweight Title I'm about to win. Don't think I can do it, Shakes? Don't think I can do it, Mota? Don't think I can embarass you, Weinbloom? [Paris turns to a a large staging light just barely on camera, and with a look of pure fury on his face he knocks the light over, shattering the glass as it lands into a thousand pieces.] RP: Try me. [A scrawny Hispanic man, wearing a name tag reading "Jorge: Janitor in Training" walks onto the scene and begins swearing in Spanish. Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Derek Mota ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Derek Mota walks onto the set immediately after the last match of the night on Saturday. He is wearing his street clothes, black soccer trainer pants and an IIWF T-shirt.] DM: Whoa, man. You wanna talk shakeups? Even I wasn't expectin' all that crap with Hardin and Thunder and the whole damn Syndicate. But I gotta say, the boys know their stuff ... every single damn one of 'em. And Thunder ... congrats on the win, now the IIWF can be proud of their champ. I hear the kids around here askin' me what's goin' on ... why I ain't defendin' the Cruiserweight Title every week. Tell ya what, if I could, I damn sure would do it, but with a buncha undeservin' challengers like Shakespeare walkin' around, I'd be wastin' my time ta do so. Shakespeare, you wanna title match with me? You gotta earn it! You think I care who the fans wanna have as champ? Do I think you care? Nah. Billy, you're just lookin' fer excuses. But let's face it ... You're scared. You were scared that if you entered the Cruiser tourney, that you wouldn't win. And you know what? You wouldn't win it. As much as I dislike Ronnie Paris, the man who only wishes he was as "in" as I am, he's twice the wrestler that you are. And now you think that after bowing outta the tourney, that I'm just gonna give you a title shot? Hell, if we're gonna pick losers from the first round, I know someone who deserves a title shot way more than you do, punk. His name is Timothy N. Turner, and you should take a few lessons from him. And if that man would ask me for a title shot, I'd gladly give it ta him. But you, Shakes? Nah, don't waste my time. You ain't gettin' a title shot 'til ya prove it ta me that you earned it. [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Cold Spell ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The IIWF interview set after Saturday night's show. Icehawk wanders onto the stage, still dressed in the Chicago Bears jersey and jeans that he was wearing in the stands.] IH: You know, I had forgotten how much fun it is to sit in the stands with the fans. I used to do it all the time, but then we got to be the tag champions, and we were so busy with that. And, to be honest, I don't think the fans would have wanted me sitting with them for a while there. Well, those GenGen mutants might have, but I haven't had enough tetanus shots to try that. Anyway, it was nice to see how Genesis has rallied since we left. I know that Fitz and I are certainly shaking in our boots at the sight of that awesome tag team of Scott Rogers and the Highwayman. That match would be our biggest challenge since ... well, I would have to go all the way back to our first match with the Rotundos. Maybe they could bring Serge Annis along, and we could wrestle them in a handicap match to make it more interesting. Actually, do three stooges do any better than two? They would probably start going "Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk" and poking each other in the eyes half way through the match. And then there is Requiem. He left Genesis to show that he didn't need a bunch of thugs to help him keep the world title. [chuckle] Boy, _that_ worked well. It's too bad, too. I heard that if he held the title little longer, he could have made enough money to satisfy a life-long dream and have eyeballs put in. Oh, and I don't want to forget my old buddy Tragedy. Does _anyone_ like you? And why in the world are you mad at the Machines? They screwed us out of the match, not you. It was just a matter of who was going to pin your corpse after I hit you with the Arctic Blast. Heck, you should thank the Machines - they prevented you and Chaos from losing to us yet again. [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Machines ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Paul Wong and Simon O'Neal stand in front of the IIWF Interview area, aftter their match with Damage, Inc.] SO: Cute. Very cute. We just finish with a match with Damage, Inc.- and yeah, they beat us. We'll get another chance against them in the future- but first, we have to get rid of some theater rejects. PW: Harlequins, I'm not proud of our actions in the triangle match... but at least we played by the rules. Chaos and Tragedy, you two decided to jump us from behind, after we were already exhausted from our match. SO: And why? Because you're cowards. And worse, you're stupid cowards. Sure, you jumped us from behind when we're tired. But when the damage was done, Paul and I were the ones standing, and your big boy Chaos was doing a Tiny Tim impersonation. You couldn't get the job done, either last week, tonight, or anytime in the future. PW: We were willing to wrestle you... and we'd win. But now you've made it into a fight. Fine --- we'll fight. And we'll win. [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Natural Predators ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Kuyler Greyson and The Natural Predators, Bear and Wolf, sit in the locker room follwing their Main Event Debut loss to the Down Boys] KG: Look, boys, you know this is the way things are. This is how things begin in a new league. Doesn't mater how damn good you are, sometimes you take the lumps when you should have gotten the win. That's how things are. W: [sighs] Yeah, I know. But to those two? KG: Those two are accomplished vets. This isn't a penny ante league anymore, and you can't go hotshotting around the ring. You underestimated them and they beat you fair and square. It's those Devastation goofs who are going to get theirs, that's for sure. B: Cowards. Base spirits. (craks knuckles) KG: Enough of that, Bear. You have more immediate and worthwhile goals at hand. You're signed for Wednesday Night, boys. High Plains Drifters, twice champions. I don't want to see the juvenile mistakes this time. W: Huh. Cowboys and Indians. Cute, bossman. KG: These two are NOT to be underestimated. Wolf, you get your focus going. I don't want a repeat of tonight. Bear, work on that grip of yours. Those two should not have been able to slip out. B: Don't worry, Boss. Neho neyeh hiyo. W: That's right. We will triumph. KG: Good. You've been active for two weeks, and you have a lot to prove. The best of the best are in this league, and to beat the best, you have to BE the best. Now get some rest. We got a long day tomorrow, and you will be ready. [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Licensed For Devastation ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Licensed for Devastation are standing in front of a blue IIWF backdrop, with "LFD" in spray-painted in black over the IIWF symbol.  They are attired in ruffian clothing, and are laughing hysterically.] RS: Oh man!  That was some funny [BLEEP]!  We wrecked those new guys! JC: Yo yo yo, who were those punk-asses that we took out?!  The Natural Predators and the Down Boys?!  Some punks from off of da' street!  Lemme tell ya'll sumtin'...we did dat to show you two teams who's da' boss of tag teams in the IIWF.  And we did a good job of it. RS: Yeah we did...I hope you guys ain't upset by the fact that we kicked your asses.  Think of it as a Hallmark greeting card from the LFD to you. Don't worry though, we've done it before, right Jon? JC: Word, we put ya'll in some nice company...ya'll got punked like the Harlequins, the Prophets of Rage, the High Plain Drifters, and da' Machines did.  It's just a natural selection of things in the IIWF. RS: Yeah, you come in, and you get punked...don't feel bad, it happens ta' all of ya.  Who's next? JC: Da' Prophets _again_. RS: Bring it on, sons... [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Down Boys ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scene opens on the Down Boys, sprawled out as a trainer looks them over, taping up their bruises and the such.  The camera pans over to Awesome T, who has yet to break a sweat.  In fact, he looks quite disgusted.) AT: I know I'm supposed to keep this short, and that's fine with me... I don't feel like wasting my, or anyone else's time here.  First of all, I'd like to thank the Natural Predators for giving us a damn good, albeit short, fight.  You kids ain't bad, I've seen a lot worse in this fed. [T puts his head down, laughs to himself, takes off his hat, runs his fingers through his hair, and carefully replaces his hat on his head as he looks up at the camera again.] AT: Which leads me to Licensed For Devastation.  Where exactly does one get a "license to devastate"?  The closest thing I can think of is New Jersey, which they call a driver's license, and the closest thing they come to devastation is what they do behind the wheel of a '74 Buick.  Boys, I have no idea what purpose you had to come out and attack a winning team, except maybe their winning ways might rub off on you. If you'd like a piece of the Down Boys, feel free to put your name on a contract, and feel the effects of the "Unskinny Bop." [hearing the words of his finishing move, Adam Peterson rises from his daze] AP: Unskinny bop, nothin' more to... ow!  My ribs... AT: One more point I'd like to make.  I get a phone call about 5 minutes after we get back in this dressing room from Dan Oliver's mom.  Now, Mrs. Oliver watches all of her son's matches, and has had to see him go through a lot of beatings... but none like the verbal beating he and Adam took at the hands of "Soundbite" Steve Roberts.  Mr. Roberts, with all due respect, who in the hell do you think you are, and what exactly gives you the right to criticize how my men wrestle.  I know, I know, you were a wrestler from "the good ol' days", long before any of us were born... [the chant of "Shoot, T, Shoot" comes from the Down Boys and the medical personnel looking after them] AT: ...but this is the 1990's, and although my boys don't dress like it, they sure as hell wrestle like it, and if your booking committee can't find the time to make our match long enough to show you what we can do, that that's a problem you should take up with the booking committee.  You want a shoot, Steve?  No problem... I'm pretty good at that.  But as for now, Steve Roberts, you can Sound-Bite my ass.  That'll be all... you're dismissed. [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Requiem ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The dimly lit IIWF interview area, the stroke of midnight. From afar, the faint chimings of a church bell can be heard, and then the lights momentarily flicker. When they revert to normal, Requiem stands in the centre of the IIWF backdrop. He appears calm, perhaps dangerously so...] RQ: Brody Thunder, I am going to use a word that I have never before uttered in the IIWF. That word is _hypocrite_. The basis for your challenge to me? [adopting a passable Brody Thunder imitation] "Oh, Requiem - you cheated me out of a match! Your pals interfered! Boo hoo, I wuz robbed, you big meanie!" For the past near three months, every single person in the IIWF has been on my case because I didn't "win the championship fairly" or some such nonsense. Will _you_ be given such a hard time, I wonder? Somehow I doubt it, and that to me stinks of IIWF hypocrisy also. But that is hardly surprising, as I have fairly strong evidence that this match was all part of an IIWF conspiracy to rid me of the belt. I shall present the evidence on Friday. Meantime, Brody Thunder, I give you credit. You said that you would beat me for the belt, and so you did. However, I watched your cute little interview, and I heard you claim you had beaten me one on one. Really? I seem to recall that the "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin decided to involve himself directly. I've got no problems with you claiming that you beat me, Thunder. You did. Completely and utterly true. No doubt. But if you ever claim that you beat me "one on one", or that you beat me "fair and square"? Well, we both know the truth of that, don't we? And so does an entire IIWF audience. It's a damn shame that I lost that belt, but before Steve Roberts et al (look it up if you need to) start running their mouth off about what a weak champion I was, look carefully at how that match ended. Brody Thunder had given me a boo-boo on my right knee. I on the other hand busted Brody Thunder right open, and then your pals got involved. Tiger Claw. Casey James. J W Hardin. Hell, Kowalski and Verhoeven also got involved in that match at one point. I can live with that. I can't complain about people using the very tactics I used to become champion. But don't claim to have won 'fair and square' because we both know that just ain't so. Oh, and Thunder? Yeah, you said that after this match I'd be nothing more than a "Fallen Angel"? How right you are. Those words _will_ come back to haunt you, Thunder. But, while _I'm_ remembering _those_ words I'd like _you_ to remember these: "Better to rule in Hell than be ruled in Heaven" Ringing any bells? That's right. They belonged to the _first_ Fallen Angel. His name was Lucifer. I _will_ have my vengeance, Thunder. Against you and everybody who involved themselves in that match. And _I_ will make Lucifer Morningstar seem an amateur by comparison. 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