[Fade up on footage captioned, "IIWF Saturday Night: Last Week", accompanied by racing, pounding music. The shot flash cuts through scenes of the title match between Requiem and "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder... Tiger Claw appearing from the crowd and freeing Casey James... the "Outlaw" hitting the Cattle Buster DDT on Requiem... Thunder hitting the DDT a second time and making the cover... the new Syndicate celebrating in the ring... Thunder attacking Steve Kowalski... the "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin unmasking... Cut to Thunder's post-match speech, cast in monochrome reduced-frame footage, giving it a jumpy, unsteady look:] BT: I said by hook or by crook it was my destiny ta wear this strap. I told y'all I was the best in this sport today an' this proves it. An' I couldn't done it without these men right here. There's a new era 'bout ta be born in the IIWF. An era o'martial law. An era o' survival o' the fittest. An era... led by the best this sport has ta offer. An' that new era starts right here tonight. Right here in _this_ ring.     Right... now! [Explosions are heard as Thunder hits both Casey James and Tiger Claw with the World title belt... before dropping the "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin with a Cattle Buster DDT. Cut to more of Thunder's comments, again set in monochrome:] BT: A new era begins here tonight. Right now. An era that serves notice on alla y'all... the era o' the Wolf. Ever since I came ta this flamin' fed I been screwed over... by Spreadbury... by     Shakespeare... by Requiem an' his pack o'idjits... by James an'     the Syndicate.     Well... no more.     I told everyone tonight was payback time. Well, I got ya all. [The frame freezes, the huge pop for Thunder echoing into silence. Cut to 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. [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. [The opening graphics explode onto the screen:] ________ ______ __ ____ ___ __ . _ ___ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| / /\ | | || \| \ /\ \ / |\ || / \| | | | || | \ v v / | __| \__ /__\ | | ||__/| |/__\ v | \||| __|-| | |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| \ \| v | \|__/ \| | || \_|| | | __________________________/...hour one...\........|...|.......|....| LIVE! Charlotte Coliseum, Charlotte, North Carolina 11 October 1997 [The opening graphics fade through to interior shots of the jam packed Charlotte Coliseum, the seventeen thousand strong crowd clearly very excited by their opportunity to catch live IIWF action on the Road to Ring Wars IV. Cameras flash all over the arena, from the floor to the mezzanine, with such rapidity as to almost create a strobe effect, briefly illuminating one area of fans, then another, then another... In the midst of the darkness is the beacon of the ring area, a huge rigging erected over the squared circle, many coloured spotlights spinning over the crowd and the canvas. Suddenly, the Coliseum itself seems to shake as huge volleys of pyrotechnics erupt in the rafters, rockets streaming up to the rafters from the head of the aisle. The crowd is now brought alive, the fans shouting their approval as showers of sparks fly as a path of fireworks explodes in turn down the aisle, finally reaching the ringside area -- and the four ringposts are together seemingly ablaze as brilliant white flame shoots up from each corner! As the smoke in the ringside area clears, the voice of Tim Dross is heard over this footage:] TD: Welcome everybody to the home of the IIWF! Welcome everybody to the jam-packed Charlotte Coliseum in the great wrestling capital of the south! Welcome to IIWF Saturday Night! [The shot cuts closer to the fans, many of whom wave signs and IIWF merchandise. Red-gloved fists wave hysterically, foam fingers point to the rafters, and the fans clamour to be caught on camera. Cut to the broadcast table at ringside, at which are seated Tim Dross, wearing his familiar IIWF blazer and a tie which bears the Ring Wars IV logo, and his partner, "Soundbite" Steve Roberts, who is wearing his trademark leather jacket over a "No Love. No Learnin'" t-shirt.] TD: Howdy, folks, and welcome to another IIWF Saturday Night, at the end of one of the most controversial weeks of the federation's existence. I'm Tim Dross, and beside me, as always, is my broadcast colleague, "Soundbite" Steve Roberts. What a week it's been, Steve Roberts. SR: I don't want to talk about it, Dross. TD: Indeed. That appears to be the attitude of many in the fall-out of last week's breathtaking series of events -- a spectacular championship victory for Brody Thunder, as we saw at the top of the hour, which has since been overshadowed by wranglings in the front office regarding the "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin, who has torn up his IIWF contract, and the Syndicate, whose status at the present time is still unknown. SR: I still can't believe that no-good cowpoke Thunder managed to outsmart the Syndicate, Dross. I just can't believe it. And the more I hear about it, the less I like it. TD: Last week's blockbuster events are something of a hard act to follow, Steve Roberts, but we have a great line-up here tonight. We'll see huge tag team action as the Prophets of Rage face Licensed for Devastation, and the last match in the first round of the tournament to crown the #1 contender for the Cruiserweight Championship, as Dexter St. Croix takes on the "One Man Army" Dakota Bundy. SR: That's a whole lot of ugly in the ring right there, Dross. Parental discretion is advised, baby dolls! TD: Bundy may not be the world's best-looking wrestler, Steve Roberts, but he is rapidly proving himself to be a very dangerous competitor. In other action, we'll see Duncan Macbeth, the #1 contender to the Intercontinental Championship, face the "Real Deal" Luke Steele, who defeated him just days before his huge battle royal victory to secure his shot against Chris Quigley -- perhaps spurring him on to succeed in that huge match. SR: I'm comin' around on this Macbeth guy, Dross. Sure, I still can't understand a word he's saying, but the big man can go. TD: We'll see a battle of the IIWF veterans later on tonight when "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare takes on the crazed Tony Starks, who has really been devastating this past few weeks -- it was he who put Mad Dog Watkins on the shelf. Billy had better be on his guard in this match, Steve Roberts. SR: Starks has gone berzerk, Dross -- and I like it. TD: Our main event tonight pits new IIWF World Heavyweight Champion Brody Thunder against one of the men he attacked last week in his shocking coup, one of the men whom he indirectly caused to lose his own shot at the IIWF World Champoinship, the "Butcher" Otto Verhoeven. It's sure to be a hard-hitting donnybrook, Steve Roberts. SR: Verhoeven's gonna carve that cowpoke up, Dross. You can't survive in the double eye without friends... no love, no learnin', baby dolls! TD: And, of course, we are also scheduled to see hometown favourite, the Phoenix, do battle with the "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin, but as of this moment, I have no idea where Hardin is. He has not been spotted since last Saturday Night, when he tore up his IIWF contract in disgust during a post-match interview. SR: It was all too much for Hardin to take, Dross. Why should a legend of the IIWF simply lay down for a lucky punk like Thunder? TD: Well, we're perhaps better off not discussing that situation on air, Steve Roberts. In fact, let's get up to the ring for our first match of the evening: Dexter St. Croix is going up against "One Man Army" Dakota Bundy. SR: I've got high hopes for Dakota Bundy, Dross. My father alw.. TD: You knew your father? SR: Aw, cut it out, Dross. We're gonna be here for a good few hours and you don't want to upset me too early on!  Yeah, not only did I know him, Dross, but I actually had one -- whereas your ma honked you up after a drunken binge with a gang of Alabama Rednecks, you jealous?  Now as I was saying, my pappy only gave me two words of wisdom: "women are like carrier bags, use them once and throw 'em away, but be careful you don't rip 'em... TD: What possible relevance has that statement got to this match, Steve? SR: I won't warn you again, Dross!  Quit your interrupting!  The _second_ lesson he taught me is: "never trust a man named after a State. Avoid playing cards with 'em, don't touch their girls and never fight 'em." TD: A wise man, your father -- two valuable lessons for us all there. SR: Damn straight, Dross! TD: So, you're not going to be completely impartial in this one, Steve? SR: Only if you can prove to me it's possible to be totally partial, Dross! TD: I.. er.. That is to say, erm, let's go down to Sparkplug. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| IIWF CRUISERWEIGHT TOURNAMENT FIRST ROUND MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Dexter St. Croix vs. "One Man Army" Dakota Bundy ....................................................................... WRITER: MB [Sparkplug Lee, already in the ring, takes a deep breath and begins:] RA: Our first match of this evening is scheduled for one fall and is an IIWF Cruiserweight Tournament First Round Match!  [Pop!]  Introducing first, accompanied to the ring by his manager "The Mouth" Matt Malone, weighing 228lbs, and hailing from York, Pennsylvania... The "One Man Army" Dakota Bundy! ["Climbatize" by The Prodigy hits the speakers, loud and hard, as Malone, in an Italian blue suit, steps out of the curtains and holds them apart for the arrival of Dakota Bundy.  The crowd show their displeasure with an awful chorus of boos as the heavily scarred Bundy appears and flashes them an evil-looking toothless smile.  The two men make their way casually down to ringside where Bundy steps through the ropes into the ring while Malone makes a pretence of brushing clean the arms of his jacket, and checking his cufflinks, before taking issue with a ringside fan that is trying to start a "Freddy Kruger" chant, displaying a plastic clawed glove from the film.  In the ring, Sparkplug Lee is more than a little intimidated by the bald scarred man, and stutters into the next announcement:] RA: And his oppon.. opponent, weighing 220lbs and hailing from Kingston, Jam..  Jamaica... Dexter St. Croix! [Lee darts out of the ring in a desperate attempt to escape from the fearsome looking wrestler, as "Exodus" by Bob Marley and the Wailers drowns out the strains of the Prodigy across the arena.  Dexter pushes the curtains back with authority, looking extremely focussed he walks down the aisle to a great reception from the 17,000 fans in attendance! Dexter, uncharacteristically without his Posse, takes little notice of the crowd as he climbs into the ring, other than to shed his green vest and toss it into the crowd, where it is caught by a group of eager fans.] TD: Dexter is really fired up for this one, Steve.  I think we're going to have a real slobberknocker on our hands! SR: Remember what my pappy told me, Dross. TD: What?  About the carrier bags? SR: Dross, you're trying my patience already tonight -- and we haven't heard the first bell yet! [Is if on cue, the referee assigned to this match, Joey Patrick, signals for the bell and this match is underway!  Pop!  Dex and Bundy, both with the same idea, charge at each other driving kicks into each other's stomachs, Dexter recovering first and dropping Bundy to the mat with a stiff clothesline as he straightens up.  Pop!  Dexter is on the York native immediately with a fist drop and a sharp elbow drop before pulling him up and whipping him hard into the corner, where Dexter follows in with a great avalanche, which leaves Bundy, gasping for breath!] TD: It's all Dexter so far, Steve. SR: Give him time, Dross.  Now go get my biscuits. [The crowds cheer as Dexter climbs to the second rope, and begins to pound on Dakota's scarred head, the crowd beginning the age-old count; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - Dakota grabs Dexter around the waist, takes three steps forward and drops backwards, hot-shotting Dexter across the top rope! The crowd's displeasure is obvious as the roar of disgust fills the arena, while Malone slaps the mat with undisguised joy, shouting unheard insults at the young man from Jamaica.  Bundy takes a moment to get his bearings before he goes to work on Dexter, pulling him into the middle of the ring and dropping a couple of vicious knees into the small of his back.  Pain is etched across Dexter's face as bundy sits on his back and, with a struggle, hooks both arms into a Camel Clutch.  Malone barely takes a breath as the insults and jeers almost manage to drown out the sound of the crowds heel pop as Bundy applies even more leverage.] TD: Malone is living proof that people who know the least, know it the loudest! SR: Hey Dross, that's smart, coming from you!  It carries about as much weight as Becky LaRue calling Lady Dewinter "cheap." [Dakota beams an ugly smile at the fans as he leans back, bending Dexter in two, which succeeds in making Dexter yell out in pain and incense the crowds.  Bundy, revelling in the pain of his opponent, begins to dig his 4 inch long fingernails into the underside of Dexter's chin, making him shout in pain again, and giving him the impetus to begin to fight back! With Herculean effort, Dexter begins to sit up, pulling his knees under him to relieve the, by now, immense, pressure on his spine!  The crowd see what he is doing and begin to get behind him, a chant of "Dexter" starting to fill the arena as he slowly fights the pain and the weight on his back!  "Dexter", "Dexter" seems to spur the young man on as he slips his legs under him and pulls his arms free.  Bundy, seeing his opponent almost breaks free, leaves go and jumps into the air, coming down ass first on his back...] TD: Oh My!  That's got to hurt!  Look at the expression on his face! SR: He should be disqualified!  Blatant low blow if ever I saw one! [As Bundy jumps, Dexter spins onto his back quickly and raises his knees, leaving Bundy to crash down, groin first onto the knees and jump twice as high back off again!  Pop!!  Dexter crawls painfully to his feet, holding his back, while Bundy holds his jewels, almost breaking into tears, while the crowd cheer.  Dexter walks slowly over to the York native and staggers him with an open-hand slap, followed by a forearm and a great European uppercut, that drops him to the mat.  Malone jumps up the ring apron, shouting at Patrick who, up until this point had been completely un-needed in a relatively cleanly contested match.  Patrick shaking his head slowly, marches over to Malone, asking him to get down while Malone's mouth motors  in overdrive.  Behind the ref, Dexter pulls Bundy up, and hooks him for a Belly to Belly Suplex, but at the last instant, Bundy lifts a knee, clipping the Jamaican below the belt and returning the favour!  Heel Pop!  As Dexter doubles up, Bundy double underhooks the arms and drives him viciously to the mat with a stunning DDT!  Malone drops down as quick as a flash and Bundy covers the unmoving Dexter.  Joey turns and drops to the mat: 1 - 2 - Kickout!  Pop!] TD: Phew!  They don't come much closer than that, Steve! SR: Close only counts in horseshoes and Larry Morton's love life! TD: Pardon? SR: Have you ever heard him?  [Imitating Larry Morton's voice] "I _nearly_ slept with her...", "I _almost_ met Chuck Norris." TD: Lord help us. SR: Byron?  Is he here too? TD: [sigh] [Bundy is a house of fire, pulling a barely conscious Dexter to his feet, and dropping him back to the mat, via his knee, in a nasty backbreaker that leaves Dexter remembering the pain he suffered there earlier.  The crowd show their displeasure, but Bundy is immune to the jeers and covers again: 1 - 2 - kickout!  Pop!  A frown crosses Bundy's face as once again he pulls Dexter to his feet, and dropping him back again with a Suplex: 1 - 2 - kickout!  Pop!  Bundy slaps the mat in frustration and once again Malone jump to the apron, distracting Patrick, who orders him to get down with such passion, Malone is left momentarily speechless as he drops to the mat, slack-jawed!  Pop!] TD: Heh! So that's how you close his mouth! SR: Who does that ref think he is?  That's the first time I've heard the crowd pop for a ref too! [Bundy pulls the severely weakened Dexter back to his very shaky legs once again, lifting him up and laying him across his shoulders, hanging on to him for a Samoan drop.  Dexter struggles violently, shifting his weight back and forth and raking his fingernails across Bundy's face as Patrick recovers from his sudden outburst and realises the crowd are cheering him!  Bundy fights the shifting 220lbs on his back with vigour, but Dexter seems to have the advantage, hooking one arm with his own and hooking the other with his legs, he topples Bundy...] TD: Good Lord!  He fell forward, onto his face! SR: There's not much to damage there really, is there?  He probably won't even feel it! [220 pounds of muscle, draped across the back of his head, drives Bundy into the mat with such force that blood spurts out of Dakota's nose from the impact!  The crowd issue a great pop, and Malone discovers his voice again!  Dexter weakly rolls Bundy onto his back with little resistance and covers... Patrick dropping to the mat... 1 -- 2 -- 3!  Patrick signals for the bell!  The crowds erupt, deafening noise from 17,000 fans make Sparkplug Lee's announcement almost inaudible:] RA: Your winner in this match and the man going through to Round two of this tournament... Dexter St. Croix! [Outside the ring, Malone is furious, screaming his anger towards anyone that will listen, slapping the apron with undisclosed fury.  Dexter, with the aid of the ropes, pulls himself to his feet as Bundy begins to stir, spitting the blood from his mouth and looking around at Malone's ranting.  Bundy gets to his feet and sees Dexter stood against the ropes, the referee holding his arm up and the look on Malone's face tells him all he needs to know.  Malone points at Dexter, screaming "Do him!  Do the stinking Rasta!".  Not needing that much prompting, Bundy charges at him, knocking Patrick clear as he tries to step in the way, then dragging his long nails down Dexter's face, drawing blood, then, almost faster than the eye could follow, his forearm whips up and catches him under the chin, lifting him off the mat and over the top rope!  Huge Heel Pop!] TD: Oh my, that was his finisher, the Firearm! SR: Oh, you have to believe he deserved that! [Bundy looks down on the prone figure of Dexter, smiling one of those evil smiles, then he leaves the ring with Malone, abuse from the crowds pouring down on him all the way up the aisleway until he passes through the curtain.  Dexter gets slowly to his feet once again, acknowledging the support of the fans and making his way up the aisleway, slowly. Joey Patrick helps St. Croix to his feet and assists him up the aisle. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: The Cruiserweight contenders tournament continues in two weeks, folks, with both semi-finals taking place in Colorado Springs. We'll see our four semi-finalists -- Ronnie Paris, the Dirt Dog Unique Allah, "the Showstopper" Simon Lebec, and Dexter St. Croix -- in action on the same night to establish just who will be fighting in Disneyland on 1 November for the right to a match with Derek Mota at Ring Wars IV. Now we are going to see the man who will get a shot at the Intercontinental Title at that very same event take on the last man to pin him. SR: I like MacBean's style... not his diction or his enunciation... but his style. On the other hand, Lukie has been running with the big dogs of late! TD: We also have to wonder what kind of role Timothy N. Turner will play in tonight's match. SR: Haven't you been paying attention, Dross? Is that ferret stapled on too tight? Turner is on vacation! He's far, far away! TD: Luke Steele doesn't believe that -- and I'm not certain that I do either! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| Duncan Macbeth vs. "Real Deal" Luke Steele |_||_| \_/\_/ |_|.................................................... WRITER: RP [Sparkplug Lee steps through the ring ropes, only to land chin first on the mat as his leg hooks the bottom strand. The crowds pops uproariously as Lee turns a bright beet red.] SL: Um, uh, this next match is, uh, to one fall. Introducing first... from Glenfinnan, Scotland... and weighing in at 270 pounds... Duncan Macbeth! ["Scotland the Brave" plays as the big Scot strides down to ringside. His kilt displays the true tartan of a warrior born and his leather jacket displays... well... the fact that he likes to wear leather jackets!] SR: I wouldn't normally care one way or another about who wins a bout like this but I'm pulling for haggis-breath in there. Anybody who has a chance to beat the snot out of Chris Kick-me is okay in my book. TD: Macbeth is on a roll with the big win in the battle royal followed by a victory with Timothy N. Turner over Genesis. SL: And his opponent... hailing from Cleveland, Ohio and weighing in at 275 pounds... "The Real Deal"... Luke Steele! [Luke Steele has just started walking the aisle when "Black Cat" is cut off and replaced with Timothy N. Turner on the big video screen. He stands in from of the Empress Hotel in beautiful Victoria, B.C. He is wearing a snazzy ash grey Saville Row suit and has a cocky grin on his face.] TD: That's Turner! What is going on here? SR: I told you that Turner was on vacation, Dross! TNT: Hi folks. I'm really enjoying my week off here in the most beautiful place in the world! I just sent in this video so that I could congratulate Duncan on his victory over Luke Steele. Yes...yes...I realize that I am filming this before the match has even happened but isn't it a foregone conclusion that Duncan is going to win? Steele doesn't have a chance! Anyway, congratulations, Duncan, and I'll see you on the next leg of the tour! [Video wall switches to the IIWF logo as Duncan Macbeth gives a mock salute towards his comrade in arms. Steele, looking justifiably annoyed, resumes his trek to the ring when who should come out of the curtain behind him but...] TD: It's Turner! I knew he wasn't in Victoria! SR: Maybe you figured it out -- but Steele is still going to get a butt whipping, baby dolls!! [Turner is walking behind an unaware Luke Steele when the curtain parts again.] TD: It's Scott Rogers! It's the Highwayman! Genesis is looking for a little payback! [Macbeth starts motioning dramatically towards Turner who picks up the signal and dodges Rogers' axe-handle blow. Steele notices too and spins around to join the fray.] SR: What is this? Three against one? Come on Macbeth, get out there! TD: He's doing just that -- but Serge Annis has also just come from backstage. This is turning into a war out here! [Macbeth grabs Steele and throws him in the ring. Turner sprints around to the other side of the ring as Annis stops his pursuit.] TD: What's Serge Annis doing? He stopped his partners from attacking Turner! SR: It looks like those Culture Club morons can't get it together! It looks like they're arguing about who to attack! TD: All the while Macbeth and Steele are going on with the match! [And go on the match does. After Macbeth threw Steele into the ring and climbed in after, he was welcomed by a kick to the head. Now Steele is following up with a further stomping.] TD: It looks like Steele wants to repeat his victory over Macbeth. That victory came after interference by Turner but this time there are four men outside of the ring! SR: I only see one. Oh, you're counting Genesis! [Steele goes for one stomp too many as Macbeth grabs his ankle and sweeps his leg out from under him. He then hits the ropes running and catches the rising Steele with a flying clothesline! He the whips off his kilt, throws it over Steele's head and starts pounding away at him!] SR: Old Macbean is really showing Puke what for! TD: Both of these men are underrated technicians because they like a good brawl. SR: Who doesn't? TD: Yes, but you just watch them. SR: So who's smarter? [The four outside participants circle the ring, with Turner making sure to keep his distance from Genesis. Though it would be easy for them to cut him off, Annis keeps them focused on the match. In the ring, Macbeth whips Steele into the ropes in order to perform his tilt-a-whirl suplex... only to taste shoe leather as Luke comes off with a devastating flying dropkick!] TD: I just heard Genesis as they circled by our table! Apparently the schism is exactly what we thought. Annis thinks that they should pummel Luke Steele while Smith and Rogers are still angry at Macbeth and Turner for the match last week! SR: I know what's coming later! A good old fashioned pier sixer! [Steele puts Macbeth over with a textbook perfect slingshot suplex and then hooks him up in a bow and arrow.] TD: The pressure here is excruciating! I don't know if Macbeth can hold out! SR: That Scotsman has taken worse than that on dates! [Just then Scott Rogers jumps up on the ring apron, distracting Chuck Sanders. The Highwayman then throws a cheap shot into Macbeth's back, exacerbating the pain from the hold. Turner comes flying around the ring and nails Smith with a spinning leg lariat! Rogers heads over to help his partner and Annis drives Steele in the head with a thunderous right hand!] TD: Genesis is attacking both men! SR: That got the Culture Club off of Turner's back as he scooted away while Rogers and Smith yell at Annis! TD: Macbeth has reached his feet first and his drops Steele with a flying bulldog! He's hoisting Steele into a vertical suplex... look at him hold him up there! SR: That's no cruiserweight he's got above his head, baby dolls! That's 275 pounds of stupid! TD: A hush has fallen over the crowd as... oh my god! Did you see that! [Rather than finishing the suplex, Macbeth lets Steele go so that he is dropping headfirst to the mat. Before he reaches, Macbeth grabs him, belly to back, and follows through with a piledriver. The crowd pops in a big way as Sanders makes the count: 1 - 2 - 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] SL: Your winner, as the result of a pinfall... Duncan Macbeth! SR: Steele won't see straight for weeks! TD: That move was devastating! Its like getting a piledriver from the top rope... or higher! SR: Look at what Macbean is doing now! [Macbeth scoops Steele up and throws him over the ropes onto the collected Genesis. He then scoots out the other side and he and Turner quickly leave the ringside area, TNT holding Macbeth's arm up in victory while Duncan uses the other to motion to the non-existent title belt around his waist. Meanwhile, Genesis looks down at Steele, as if deciding whether to beat him up.] TD: It looks like Genesis has decided to leave Steele alone as they also head for the backstage. SR: They're probably afraid he'll still get up and pound them! TD: I doubt that. Steele is finally stirring -- but he's certainly the worse for wear after Duncan Macbeth's new move. [Luke Steele refuses the help of the official as he heads back to the locker room, clearly frustrated with himself. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: I think we're about ready for our next match. We have the Machines facing off against the Harlequins in what should be a real barnburner. SR: A barnburner? What the hell is that? TD: A good match, Steve. SR: Then why don't you just say that, instead of adding your little backwoods twang to it? TD: Let's get to the ring, where Sparkplug's ready to go. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| The Harlequins vs. The Machines |_||_| \_/\_/ |_|.................................................... WRITER: RR [Scene cuts to the ring, where Sparkplug Lee is standing. His left sleeve is rolled up, and he is proudly displaying a tattoo he has of a teddy bear in a luchador mask to some adoring fans in the front row. Seeing the camera on him, he rolls his sleeve back down, clears his throat, and starts the announcements.] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, this match is a tag team event, and is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, at a total combined weight of 503 pounds, here are Simon O'Neal, Paul Wong... THE MACHINES! [Pink Floyd's "Welcome to the Machine" blares over the loudspeaker as the Machines make their way out from the back. Wong is slapping peoples' hands and smiling at the fans as usual, while O'Neal simply strides to the ring, climbs in, and raises both his arms above his head, basking in the crowd reaction.] SR: [over the headset] I'll say it again, Dross. O'Neal should dump that loser partner of his and go solo. TD: [over the headset] Nonsense. These two, no matter what their problems, have been a tight tag team for quite a while now. SR: [over the headset] I'm sure that if O'Neal wasn't such a tough little bastard, they'd be tighter in other ways too. Wong's the gay guy on the team, remember? TD: [over the headset] Do you mind, Steve? SR: [over the headset] Not at all, baby dolls. Not... at... all. RA: Ladies and gentlemen, we have an announcement concerning the Machines' opponents for this evening. Harlequin Chaos will not be allowed to wrestle tonight, as a result of a medical examination by the IIWF physicians determining that he has a detatched calf muscle in his leg. As a result, harlequin Tragedy has been allowed to find a replacement partner for this evening's match. [The Machines stand in the ring looking at Lee with a look of total confusion on their faces.] SR: [over the headset] What's he talking about, Dross? TD: [over the headset] Exactly as he says, Steve. There's going to be a replacement wrestler for Chaos tonight. RA: Therefore, introducing their opponents... THE HARLEQUINS! ["My Lover's Box" by Garbage starts up over the loudspeakers as the Harlequins are announced. Harlequin Tragedy steps out of the locker rooms, followed closely behind by Comedy... and nobody else. Sparkplug Lee opens his arms, as if to ask, "Where's the other person?", to which Tragedy simply points to himself and continues to the ring. Wong starts protesting to Lee about this, but is pulled back by O'Neal, who tries to convince him that it'll be okay and that the two of them should be able to handle the lone Harlequin.] TD: [over the headset] It looks like Tragedy's going to take on the Machines alone! SR: [over the headset] Points for balls, none for brains. Kill the mime, O'Neal! [Sparkplug Lee steps out of the ring as the timekeeper rings the bell, and Paul Wong opts to start for his team. Tragedy stands in his corner silently, looking on, then advances to the middle of the ring as the start of the match is sounded.] TD: This should be interesting... do you think Tragedy will be able to play the parts of both members of his team? SR: Who knows how many personalities they have? For all we know, Tragedy himself outnumbers the Machines, five to two. [Tragedy and Wong lock up in the center of the ring, with Tragedy being picked up quickly by the larger man and dropped down onto the mat with a body slam. He rolls quickly back to his feet, and locks up again, only to be met with the same result. On his feet a third time, Wong tries for the slam again, but Tragedy slips up and over his opponent's shoulder, landing nimbly on the mat behind him. When Wong turns to face him, Tragedy hooks his arm and spins, arm dragging him across the ring and back into his corner. Both men stand again and look at each other, then advance to the middle of the ring, with Wong ignoring his partner's pleas to get in the ring and face the Harlequin.] TD: Smart move by Tragedy... he's going to need to utilize his speed here against the much larger Paul Wong. SR: He's going to need to utilize a bulldozer against Wong. [Both men lock up again, and Wong pushes the Harlequin back into the corner, where he backs up for a clean break. Tragedy decides to capitalize on this and, as Wong backs up with his arms up signalling the break, the Harlequin lunges forward with a forearm that catches Wong in the forehead and sends him stumbling backwards. Tragedy is off and running at this point, hitting the ropes and coming back with a cross body block that knocks the staggered Wong onto the mat in a pinning predicament. Wong kicks out at two, and the Harlequin grabs him by the hair and drags him to his feet, then sends him back to the canvas with a well-placed dropkick. Wong rolls over to his corner quickly, tagging out to his partner, who enters the ring with a smirk on his face and the hand motion of "bring it on" to Tragedy.] TD: So far, so good for Tragedy. SR: Yeah, but now the brains of the team is in the ring. The one who knows how to cheat. [O'Neal and Tragedy circle each other for a moment, then lock up again, but Tragedy is quickly doubled over by a knee lift from the Machine. O'Neal slams a forearm down into the small of Tragedy's back, dropping him to one knee, then connects with a hard left hook to Tragedy's jaw that sends him sprawling (and was conveniently shielded from the referee's view by the Machine's body). O'Neal looks over to Comedy and winks, then picks Tragedy up and spins him around into a swinging neckbreaker. He rolls over nonchalantly onto his prone opponent, getting a two count before he yanks the Harlequin's shoulders from the mat. Wong starts berating his partner from the corner, which only garners an expletive-laden retort from O'Neal, some of which the seven-second men were totally unprepared for.] TD: Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to apologize for Simon O'Neal's language in this match. SR: Damn [BLEEP]in' straight we do. Okay, they seem to have their act together down there now. Just checking. [O'Neal pulls Tragedy to his feet and pulls him over to his corner, where he tags in Wong again. O'Neal quickly drops Tragedy to the mat again with a scoop body slam, and Wong steps through the ropes and drops a leg across Tragedy's chest. O'Neal steps between the ropes, "inadvertently" kicking Tragedy as he does so, then watches as Wong picks his opponent up again and sling him into the ropes. On the rebound, the larger man spins around Tragedy as he runs past, and clamps on a bear hug, pinning both of Tragedy's arms down next to his sides.] SR: Danger Will Robinson! Danger! Gay guy from behind! TD: I wish you'd stop referring to Mr. Wong as "the gay guy," Steve. He is most decidedly heterosexual. SR: Did you try picking up on him or something? Dross, you swinger, you! [Comedy looks on helplessly as Wong continues applying the pressure to Tragedy in the center of the ring. Suddenly, Wing takes a step forward, and lurches backwards into a belly-to-back suplex that leaves Tragedy laid out on his stomach on the mat. Comedy apparently can not take any more of this and rushes away from the ring towards the back. Tragedy weakly reaches out to her from the ring as she runs off, but is reminded of his current situation by Wong jerking him to his feet again.] SR: [chuckling] So much for "Stand by your man." I guess it doesn't apply if your man's a painted up freak of a clown. [Wong drags Tragedy to the center of the ring and doubles him over with a kick to the stomach, then lifts him up and drops him onto the mat with a thunderous powerbomb. He hooks the leg and watches as the referee dives into position to count the pin attempt. One... two... and Tragedy barely manages to get his shoulder up before the three count! There is a huge pop from the crowd for the Harlequin's tenacity, and the pop doubles again as two figures emerge from the locker room a moment later.] TD: Comedy's back! And it seems she's dragging somebody with her... SR: Where? Oh... oh, great. TD: It's Icehawk of Cold Spell! She's bringing Icehawk to the ring! SR: Just what this match needed. Another gay guy. [Comedy is pulling Icehawk down to the ring by his wrist, pleading with him to help Tragedy out. Icehawk seems to be shaking his head insistently, and can be seen mouthing the word "fireball", then pulls free and starts to walk back to the locker room. Comedy grabs him by the shoulder and turns him around to face her again, then drops to her knees and starts pleading and apologizing for the incident, enough so that a single tear starts running down her face. Icehawk looks down at her, nods wordlessly, then walks past her down to the ring to the huge ovation of the crowd. He strides up to the timekeeper's table, says a few words to him, then hops up onto the apron in Tragedy's corner, leaning over the top rope and shouting for him to make the tag.] TD: Icehawk seems to have designated himself as Tragedy's partner for this match! SR: Too little too late, I say. Tragedy's already been beaten to a smudge in the ring. [Wong has pulled Tragedy to his feet again by this time, shaking his head in amazement at how he could kick out from the powerbomb, then pulls him back to the Machines' corner to tag to O'Neal. After the tag is made, O'Neal clumbs the turnbuckles as Wong holds Tragedy up in another bear hug, then levels him with a clothesline from the top, rolling quickly on top while the referee counts... and is amazed again when Tragedy kicks out at the last second! O'neal, enraged, rolls onto Tragedy's chest and starts peppering him with hard shots to the head, drawing another warning from the referee about closed fists, then picks Tragedy up and chops him back into the corner. A moment later, he whips him to the far side, but as he runs in and picks Tragedy up for a spinebuster as he stumbles back out of the corner, the Harlequin twists around quickly and drops O'Neal into the mat with a spinning DDT! Both men lie motionless on the canvas for a moment, then roll over and start crawling back to their corners for tags. O'Neal makes it to his, bringing the larger Wong back into the ring, and the Machine sprints across the ring to try to stop Tragedy... ...and arrives a moment too late.] TD: Icehawk is in the ring! Tragedy has managed to tag out to Icehawk! SR: Gay guy on gay guy. That does it. I'm leaving. TD: Get back here, Steve. [Icehawk leaps into the ring, ducking under a forearm from Wong, and peppering the larger man with quick jabs as he dodges and weaves around him. He finally just ducks under a wild swing by Wong, and plants a dropkick right between his shoulder blades, sending him sprawling forward and finally falling through the second and third ropes to the outside of the ring. Icehawk sees a chance to capitalize on this and makes a running start towards the turnbuckle. He leaps onto the second one, vaults backwards onto the ropes, then flips over the top to the outside, landing squarely on top of Wong.] TD: Asai Moonsault! Asai Moonsault by Icehawk! SR: Friggin' amateur. [Simon O'Neal runs around the ring to try to help his partner, but is intercepted by Tragedy, who has gained a bit of a second wind. Tragedy and O'Neal start brawling as Icehawk rolls Wong back into the ring. He climbs to the top rope and vaults off, turning a spectacular flip into the air before crashing down onto the prone Machine with a somersault splash. The referee slides over and counts... one... two... three!] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of this match... THE HARLE... ummm... COLD SP... ummm... TRAGEDY AND ICEHAWK! [Icehawk rolls from the ring to join Comedy just as O'Neal slides under the ropes in a too-late attempt to break the pin. Comedy and Tragedy hug quickly outside the ring, but Icehawk shies nervously away as Comedy goes to hug him.] SR: Yep, he's gay. No problems about pouncing on the big, muscular man, but when a girl goes to hug him, he's all shy. TD: Please, Steve Roberts. There is no need for these comments. [The victorious Harlequin/Cold Spell entourage leaves ringside, leaving the Machines in the squared circle to rue their misfortune. The inflammatory O'Neal tries to leave the ring to jump the group in the aisle, but he is held back by a recovering Wong, who receives a shove for his trouble.] SR: Trouble in paradise, Dross. TD: No, Steve Roberts, I believe what we are seeing here is the competitive spirit which drives these two young men -- they are disappointed with this result, but they must be fair on themselves: they couldn't have expected a partnership like Tragedy and Icehawk would be formed on the spot. [The Machines finally leave ringside, Wong apparently trying to calm O'Neal. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: More tag action coming right up, Steve Roberts. SR: You're kidding, right, Dross? TD: No, Steve. The Prophets of Rage and Licensed for Devestation ready to meet once again in competition here in on IIWF Saturday Night. SR: Where the hell's my blanket? Looks like we're in the "Groundhog Day" realm here, Dross. We've seen this matchup so many times already.... TD: Let's go to Sparkplug Lee for the introductions. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| Prophets of Rage vs. Licensed for Devastation |_||_| \_/\_/ |_|.................................................... WRITER: AD [Sparkplug steps into the ring -- without falling over -- and makes the introductions:] SL: Introducing first, from Halifax, Nova Scotia... accompanied by their manager, Pizzazz, at a combined weight of 573lbs, here are Derek and Shadoe Rage... The Prophets of RAGE! [Heel pop as the entourage makes its way to the ring -- the huge, goateed 7'2" Derek, his black basketball uniform visible under his boxer's robe, the stocky, muscular Shadoe, flamboyantly dressed in his glittering attire, and Pizzazz, smoking a cigarette in a long holder. "The Death March" throbs over the PA.] TD: The crowd seem somewhat more favorable to the Prophets than usual. SR: That damn song keeps coming on at this time... TD: The Funeral March? SR: No. "I got You Babe"... you know, how Bill Murray keeps waking up and... [The Prophets climb into the ring and remove their surplus gear. They do not appear to be talking to one another.] SL: Their opponents... from Baltimore, Maryland, weighing a combined 530lbs... Reggie Starr and Johnathan Chaos... LICENSED FOR DEVASTATION! TD: LFD, who have been making their presence known to the new teams lately, facing an old enemy here in the Prophets. SR: You ever wonder how that Groundhog drove that truck? [Reggie Starr and Jon Chaos enter the aisle, confidently strolling into the aisle with their characteristic air of arrogance. Starr clutches a small piece of animal skin, and Chaos is holding a square of acid-washed denim up into the air.] TD: Looks like LFD are sending out a message to the Natural Predators and the Down Boys, Steve Roberts. [LFD continue down to ringside, and place their supposed "trophies" down in one corner. They appear almost unmindful of the Prophets as they climb the ringsteps, step through the ropes and... Shadoe Rage attacking Reggie Starr before the bell! Nailing Chaos with a high clothesline and knocking him out of the ring! Shadoe with a kneelift close to the groin, sending Starr to the mat, where he stomps and kicks him mercilessly.] SR: Whoa, look at the Rage guy go! TD: This is a totally dominating performance from Shadoe thus far. [The brutal Shadoe rams Starr's face over and over again into the mat. Shadoe picks up Starr, throwing him across the ring and meeting him with a snap huracarana, follwed by a snap elbowdrop.] SR: I love it! Two rough and tumble teams going at it! [Outside the ring, Derek Rage grabs Johnathan Chaos and a chokeslam on the mats! Meanwhile, Shadoe climbs to the top turnbuckle, and hits the rising Starr with a double axe-handle. Derek moves back to his corner, and yells to Shadoe to tag him in... but Shadoe simply ignores him!] TD: We could be seeing more of the same dissention we saw on Wednesday night, Steve Roberts. The Prophets don't appear to be getting on at all well at the moment. [Shadoe lifts Starr to his feet, and is hit by a thumb to the eye.] TD: Cheap escape. SR: No move is cheap against the Prophets, Dross. The LFD needs to just survive in there. [Slam by Starr, and he tags in Chaos. Together, the two members of LFD hit a double stomachbreaker on the stocky Shadoe.] TD: Chaos now, with an advantage, but still shaken outside the ring... looks to me like he's favoring his back, Steve. SR: Andie MacDowell. TD: What? SR: Well, she was in "Groundhog Day", wasn't she? [Chaos hits a headbutt, which drops Shadoe to his knees. Derek simply stands in his corner and shakes his head, watching his partner be worked over. Chaos then puts his boot into the small of Shadoe's back and wrenches back on Shadoe's arms, yelling all the while at Derek to come in and help his brother before he snaps him in two. Still Derek simply stands there, apparently impassive. Jonathan Chaos lifts Shadoe to his feet and whips him at Derek. There is a collision, and Derek enters the ring.] TD: Is that a tag? SR: I guess so! TD: Oh my! Derek blocks the right hook -- Derek chokeslams Chaos again! And a chokeslam from a seven foot giant is one heck of a drop! But it looks like Shadoe doesn't want out! SR: Derek with a belly to back suplex. He's just cold and calculating in there. TD: And LFD? SR: I don't know if they can get up the wind to make a comeback. [Derek grabs Chaos' legs and begins a giant swing, only to slam Chaos back down to the mat. Derek turns his back to the official, and goes to his tights stealthily. Shadoe yells at Derek, who turns back to the action and makes a cover. The referee counts: 1 - 2 - Chaos gets a shoulder up. Chaos pulls himself to his feet -- and Derek blasts him with a right hand... opening up a cut above Chaos' eye!] TD: That wasn't with his fist, Steve Roberts. What kind of foreign object does Derek Rage have in there? [Derek tucks something back in his tights, ignoring the yells of his angry partner from his corner -- until something Shadoe says apparently draws his brother's attention. The two Rages stand face to face, Derek in the ring and Shadoe on the apron -- and chew one another out!] TD: Not a good sign, Steve. SR: They have a definite advantage here... and Chaos gets to his corner to tag Starr. That was just a stupid, stupid move by the Prophets. TD: Starr with a shoulder tackle to the small of Derek's back. And the big guy goes down! SR: In his corner! Shadoe just smacks him to make the tag! [Shadoe leaps over the ropes with a dropkick to Reggie Starr's face. Kicking at him, until Derek grabs his shoulder and starts yelling at him.] TD: What is this? SR: Still waters run deep, Dross. TD: Starr rolling out of the ring, And Shadoe off the ropes, catapults himself into a corkscrew plancha! SR: Reggie Starr is out of it! TD: Shadoe uncovering the cement, what is he doing? [Shadoe jumps on top of the steel barricade, springs back, and catches Reggie Starr in a hurricanrana that slams his back onto the concrete.] SR: I like this new fury with them... but the Prophets gotta stay focused... [Derek distracts the referee, while Shadoe grabs a steel chair and drives it, edge first, into Starr's back.] TD: This has got to be it for Starr. Thrown back into the ring, and Derek Rage with a faceslam! Shadoe in and arguing with him! SR: This isn't good. What the hell's the matter with the Prophets in there? TD: Hang on -- here comes another member of the Age of the Rage! Here comes Dirt Dog Unique Allah, making his way out of the stands! This is crazy out here -- Dave D'Amato is trying his hardest to break the Prophets away from each other! [Dirt Dog Unique Allah produces something from his tights -- and attacks Jonathan Chaos, who was slumped by the ropes. Chaos flies back a few feet, his body apparently convulsing briefly, before he becomes motionless again. The camera gets a good shot of what Allah had in his hand...] TD: That's a taser! Good grief, Steve Roberts -- those things have been outlawed! SR: I guess that must be Shock Senior, Dross! The Dirt Dog just zapped Chaos with Shock Senior! [Derek shoves Shadoe away from him, and the smaller of the Rage brothers turns around to see Chaos motionless on the canvas. He makes the cover while D'Amato scrambles into position, and Derek ensures that Starr is in no position to interfere. D'Amato makes the count: 1 - 2 - 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: I can't believe this, Steve Roberts! Licensed for Devastation displayed superior wrestling and teamwork in this match -- but thanks to the Dirt Dog, the Prophets escape with the win! SR: That there is black justice, brothers gotta stick together, Dross. TD: I think that is a somewhat questionable... oh my! Derek just blasted the Dirt Dog! [The Dirt Dog tries to keep Shadoe and Derek Rage from attacking one another, but he is simply felled by a hard right hand -- and now Derek and Shadoe go at it, trading punches and kicks in the ring! Starr drags Chaos from the ring, and the two men collect themselves at ringside while Pizzazz climbs up to the apron and tries to calm down her two charges.] SR: Here it goes! It's all breakin' loose, Dross! All we need is for the chicks to get involved, and I'll be in Soundbite heaven, baby dolls! TD: Are we witnessing an end to an era? [Allah once again tries to interject himself -- but this time both Prophets turn their attention to the former Cruiserweight Champion, slingshotting him across the ring and then knocking him to the outside before continuing to attack one another, yelling, punching and kicking. Medusa Rage runs down to the ringside area, and leaps up onto the apron next to Pizzazz.] SR: Here come the ladies, Dross! [Pizzazz and Medusa look at one another -- and then flip over the ropes into the ring. Medusa pulls Shadoe away from Derek while Pizzazz tries to calm Derek down... suddenly the women whip their charges into the ropes, and drop them with flying headscissors! Insane pop from the crowd!] TD: This is incredible, Steve Roberts! I know that both Medusa and Pizzazz are fine wrestlers in their own right, but this is just crazy! SR: I hope all you morons have your VCRs rolling right now... you're not going to see this again in a hurry, folks! TD: And Damage Inc. are coming out here! Alex Porteaux and Eddy Ramos coming out here -- to join in? [There is carnage in the ring as the men now begin to attack the women, and various debris is hurled into the squared circle by the fans. Security head down to the ring as quickly as possible and try to contain the situation. Medusa whips Pizzazz into the ropes, and then ducks down, allowing Pizzazz to launch herself off her back for a flying hurricanrana which manages to take down the huge Derek Rage! The Dirt Dog continues to be beaten down by Shadoe, bewailing his lack of understanding at what is going on. A hard right hand uppercut sends the Dirt Dog sailing out of the ring over the ropes and down to the hard floor outside. Porteaux and Ramos, dressed simply in their street clothes, stand at the foot of the aisle and survey the scene, knowing grins on their faces.] SR: Medusa and Pizzazz are putting the Prophets to shame here, Dross! We got to let these girls wrestle here more often! TD: Indeed -- more impressive teamwork here by the managers than we saw from their team in the match... Oh my! A double scoop slam on Shadoe! Incredible! SR: I love it! Four letter words, partial nudity, injury, blood, weapons, flying fists. A sudden meltdown -- and nobody knows why it happened. [Security now descends on the ring, trying to break things up. Debris continues to be hurled by the crowd, and the Rages continue to beat on one another for no apparent reason, while Damage Inc. simply look on.] TD: Folks, we have to cut away to a commercial right now, but we'll be back in a moment with our second huge hour of action! Don't go away! [Cut to a wide-angle shot of the jam-packed Charlotte Coliseum. 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+