________      ______              | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| |\ /| /\ |\ |   |  /\ \  /              | || | \ v  v / | __| | v |/  \| \| __| /__\ \/              |_||_|  \_/\_/  |_|   |   |\  /|  |/  |/    \/                                    |   | \/ |  |\_//     /\                               |\ /|    | _  |     /  __ / __                               | v | | | /  \ . |\ | /  \ /  \                               |   | | | \__  | | \| | __ \__              13 October 1997  |   | | |    \ | |  | \__|    \              .....................|..v_____/.|.|..|____|____/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Camera opens with a shot of Brody Thunder standing in the IIWF interview area pacing back and forth a bit as if pondering some deep thought. His bald head is splashed with his own blood as a result of reopening last week's wounds. His chest is also a stained crimson and the IIWF title belt is slung over his left shoulder. As he stares into his blood tainted hands the silence is broken as his cold raspy voice begins to speak.] BT: Three seconds. Three seconds, Otto. That's what separated superiority from mediocrity. Ya took yer head outta the match fer three seconds ta go play kissy-face with yer skirt an' in that three seconds ya blew yer shot at the big money, big man. [Thunder now shifts a sideways glance at the camera and grins that devilish smile.] I told ya ta leave 'er at home, ace. I'll give ya yer due... yer a scrapper. Y'look at my squash an' that's pretty obvious. But scrappin' ain't all it takes, hoss. Ya gotta have the gray matter. T'be able ta think on yer feet. Ta act an' react without hesitation. Ya hesitated, Otto. I reacted. You lost. An' all it took were... three... simple... seconds. [Thunder wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, then flicks the blood to the floor.] The same fate that awaits anybody else that wants stare 'cross that ring at me. Runts like Highwayman, Kowalski, James, an' especially you, Requiem. D'ya think that lil stunt ya jus' pulled out there changes anythin', ace? Yer still jus' a punk an' quotin' scripture ain't gonna get the job done. T'get_this_back... [Thunder grabs the belt from his shoulder and holds up for the camera.] ...yer gonna hafta come down ta that ring an' face me man-ta-man. An' if ya ever _do_ pony up the guts ta get _that_ far, I'll be sure an' remind ya jus' why you're a former champion, amigo. Alla yer smoke an' mirrors don't mean _squat_. Ya got outsmarted... ya got outclassed... an' ya got outwrestled, big man. Don't get angry. Get used to it. An' one more thing... Hardin... it ain't over, amigo. They say yer leavin' the IIWF. They say last Saturday night pushed ya over the edge. They say that yer outta here. Well... y'know what I say? Bull[BLEEP]. Now I know yer alotta things, but one thing you ain't... is a quitter. An' I ain't stupid enough ta leave my back open fer the bullet. I know somewhere, sometime, you'll make yer move. An' I'm gonna tell ya straight up, my friend... I'll be ready. This ain't done an' we ain't through. Believe it, hoss... or it'll be yer end. [Thunder spits to the floor never taking his gaze off the camera. He then walks off camera as it fades to black...] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Requiem ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Requiem enters the IIWF interview area, moments after IIWF Saturday Night has left the air, dressed in a black duster, black shirt, black jeans and black sunglasses. He wears a back-to-front black baseball cap, and is carrying a British Airways flight bag over one shoulder. The big 6'10" Requiem has an uncharacteristically big grin on his face, seeming to be in ecstatic mood...] RQ: Well, I've just got back from a lightning tour of the Land of The     Rising Sun, and let me tell you people watching out there...     The Angel Of Destruction had a great time!     And, more importantly, The Herald Of Damnation showed the world what     he could do in a special cage match laid on by the MLWO! Oops! Er, I     mean "rival organisation"...     But, after my little busman's holiday to Japan... [Requiem's smile suddenly is wiped from his face, and once more the menacing coldness of Requiem stares out onto the TV screens of the world...] RQ: Brody Thunder, I know you got my message. Was it supposed to scare     you? Was it supposed to change anything? No. It's a reminder,     Thunder. It's a reminder that it's not just J.W. Hardin you've got     to watch out for.     Seems that the IIWF, in its wisdom, very rarely lays on a championship rematch. Old champions seem to be expected to just fade     away and die...     Requiem don't play that game.     The IIWF _will_ give me the rematch I deserve, or it will regret it.     Thunder, I want that belt for a second time. I don't care if I have     to beat you to get it or Hardin, though frankly I'd prefer it to be     you, if only to make you suffer for what you did to me. The Angel Of     Destruction WILL regain the belt, and I will leave you a broken and     bitter man...     No matter what it takes, Thunder. No matter where. No matter when.     No matter who I've got to go through. I want my pound of flesh for     what you did to me, and there's nothing on this Earth that can stop     me.     Oh, and Thunder? You call _me_ a punk? Irony of ironies! Well,     Brody, let me tell you something... People may hate me, but the     simple fact of the matter is this...     Don't laugh...     People could trust me.     When you're my enemy, you can trust me to do my utmost to beat the     crap out of you, no matter what it takes, no matter how down and     dirty I have to be. When you're my friend, you can trust me to treat     ya right. I've never betrayed somebody who thought me a friend,     Thunder. Can you say the same?     No.     And to me, that makes _you_ the biggest punk of all. [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Real Deal" Luke Steele ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Fade up to the IIWF interview area, with the brick wall partially covered by the giant IIWF logo hung up. The set is quiet for the first few seconds, but then Luke Steele comes walking in, a displeased look on his face. He has a slight limp, and isn't nearly as steady on his feet as usual.] LS: Alright baby dolls, listen up. I've got one thing to say, and     that's to Timothy N. Turner. I knew your little speech was nothing     but a load of bull, that's all I expect from you Turner. Well     congratulate your little friend Duncan, that's a hell of a move he     got. Did you put your head's together to come up with it?     Afterall, it'd take half a brain to come up with it, and even less     to apply it. Quigley, you're damn lucky all you have to face is     MacBeth, you should have no trouble holding on to the belt     against him.     Genesis, more importantly Annis, obviously I'm not as done with you     as I thought. Look Epitome, I've seen you muscle your way in and I     don't like you. Rogers, Highwayman, spare me your attempts to save     me, I don't need 'em. Annis, I want your ass in the ring as soon as     the committee can get together on this subject.     But Turner, you're first. I challenge you to a match, any type of     match you want. Lumberjack, death match, iron man, I don't care at     this point. You've been an annoying thorn in my side for too long,     and I want to get you in the ring for a man to man encounter, even     if it would be the first time you met an enemy head on instead of     from behind. Let's see if TNT has the firepower to accept, or if     he's just shooting blanks. [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The IIWF Interview Area. The Saturday card is underway, but here behind the scenes stands Chris Quigley, clad in his wrestling gear, obviously ready to fight. Next to him sits Steve Manning, his face contorting in what we can only guess dissapointment.] CQ: Y'know, I'm not trying to say the IIWF has it in for me. What?     It's bad enough I come out here week after week and slander the     Federation's greatest so-called superstars, but when I come out here     week after week and prove myself right by beating those so-called     superstars, it's just too much for them to handle! I was prepping     for the match with Serge Annis, and I get some fat idiot in a suit     knocking on my door saying, "I'm sorry, but due to circumstances     beyond our control, your match is cancelled tonight."     Beyond our control? Like hell! I don't care if Serge Annis was too     damn scared to show for our match tonight, put me in against someone     else! _Anyone_ else! I'll fight Kowalski! I'll fight Warnett!     I'll fight Shakespeare or Starks! Damn, stick Steve Roberts back     into his frilly little wrestling tights and lemme beat the snot out     of him. I don't get bumped off a show. It just doesn't happen.     Next week, I want Serge Annis, and I don't care what other matches     are on the card. I want it as the MAIN EVENT! The MAIN EVENT of     next IIWF Saturday Night. Quigley vs. Annis. It better happen. [Manning now wheels up close to the camera.] SM: Serge! My pal! My friend! I wasn't gonna really hurt ya.... that     bad! You didn't need to go wandering off to God knows where, in     hopes that the "Quickstrike" wouldn't hunt you down and batter you     into oblivion! But... it kinda works out in a weird little way.     Y'see, I only had 7 short days to think about what I was gonna do to     you as soon as your back was turned. Now I have 7 more. If you     never believe anything anyone tells ya ever again...     Believe this. You're going to be sorry you ever crossed my path.     _Extremely_ sorry! [Manning does the kinda laugh you only hear from evil villains on cartoons, as Quigley just shakes his head and glares at the camera, as if disgusted with the entire Federation. Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Scott Rogers ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scott "The Fop" Rogers stands before a backdrop which, a la a TV weather map, has had his name in special typeface super-imposed on top. Rogers looks directly into the camera and has a wry smile on his clean shaven face.] SR: Macbeth, count yourself lucky, _pal_. Tonight, Serge Annis saved you and, hey, if I were you, I'd be pretty damn grateful. You see, me and Highway, like it or not, when we put our minds to it, yeah, we're the best team in this federation. Last week you and Turner beat us... and I ain't gonna forget it. Ever. Even when me and Highway've got the belts around our waists, that match'll be on me mind. And the only way a man like me can get ridda these thoughts is to eliminate the guy, or guys in your cases, who're the cause. Like I said, Annis saved you tonight. But next time, buddy boy... [Rogers grins and fiddles with his hair.] SR: Simon, I got an idea, mate. Since Shakespeare rejected me offer to join us, why don't _you_ come in? And I even got a new nickname for ya... how does Simon "Second Fop" Lebec sound?! [Rogers looks to walk off set but then, with a look of thunder on his face, turns back to the camera.] SR: And Malone, what's the problem, _pal_? I heard this rumour you're scoutin' us to team up with Bundy. Or him to team up with us -- which is what it'd be. It ain't no secret we're lookin' for a coupla short-asses to join us. And it ain't no secret Annis and Highway think Bundy's Genesis calibre. But I gotta say... this guy lost to Saint Croyks. You say it ain't in our interests to be against him? Well that ain't the way it looks from here. We were gonna offer him a place tonight live on air, Malone, but now it looks like it's gonna hafta happen in private if it's gonna happen at all. The ball's in your court, buddy. [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Billy Shakesepeare stands backstage, obviously a wounded man, both physically and mentally despite what should have been a glorious moment. His voice rasps form the armbar inflicted moments earlier.] BS: "The attempt and not the deed, confounds us", Macbeth. Now Scott Rogers joins my fan club. Take a place in line. This glory defends but one reason: you all have come to the cold sweat inspiring realization that I am the Cruiserweight Champion... but for the     belt.     The people have spoken... and the wrestlers have confirmed. Now is the time for the deed to be done. And Rogers... you have not been forgotten. You have struck me not once, but twice. Three strikes and you're out. [Billy starts a rasping cough and quickly escapes from the camera's view. Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Duncan Macbeth ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Duncan Macbeth lopes into the IIWF interview area backstage at the Coliseum shortly after his match with Luke Steele earlier in the evening. The big Scot hasn't even broken a sweat after his quick victory in the brief contest, and his piercing jade eyes glitter with confidence as he focuses his gaze on the camera.] DM: Well, Steele, how're ye feelin' NOW, tosser? Not ridin' sae high or     feelin' sae fine after me Highland Hammer driver, I'd wager! I told     ye that yuir win o'er me a few weeks back was a fluke, an' I think I     proved tha' beyond a shadow o' a doubt tonight.     I reckon I've STILL got yuir number, Steele. Ye'd be wise t'     remember tha'. 'Nuff said about ye.     Now, fer these soddin' has-beens, Genesis. Yis lot are th' most     pathetic bunch o' misfits I've ever seen! Never in me life have I     ever seen three men, _three_ mind, come down t' ringside t'     interfere in a match, an' absolutely NOTHIN' happen 'cause yis     couldn't agree on who t' jump! 'Tis plain now that t'was only Boy     Rectum an' Cold Spell that made yuir wee club worth payin' attention     to, an' without them, yis're leaderless, aimless, an' worthless.     Yis should really do yuirselves, an' th' IIWF, a big favour, an'     disband while yis still have th' faintest shred o' dignity left t'     yuir miserable careers...     But I really doubt yis're that smart, wha'.     If yis're all still sore at Tim an' I fer slappin' yis around like a     pair o' red-headed stepchildren a few weeks back, then allow me t'     make yis a proposal.     Tim an' I are willin' t' take on all THREE o' yis in a handicap     match, as soon as yis work up th' bollocks t' agree t' th' match.     That way, we'll drive th' final nail in th' coffin o' Genesis, an'     show th' IIWF that Turner an' Macbeth are th' most dangerous     combination in this fed, bar none.     Yuir time is over, lads, an' everyone kens it but yis... but keep     stickin' yuir mongrel noses in our affairs, an' Tim an' I'll be more     than happy t' enlighten yis. We've got th' talent, th' drive, an'     th' teamwork t' beat any three bickerin' midcarders any day o' th'     week -- an' any day yis'd care t' name. So name it, tossers, an'     we'll be there.     Oh, an' Chrissie... I've no' forgotten ye, lassie. So, ye think I'm     insecure? I'm no' th' one hidin' behind a cripple, am I? Ye call     yuirself a "wrestlin' machine"? Well, there's ne'er been a machine     built tha' didn't break down, especially when someone takes a hammer     to it, wha'. YUIR breakdown's goin' t' happen at Ring Wars IV,     tosser, an' after I take me Hammer t' ye, th' "wrestlin' machine's"     goin' t' be ready fer th' scrap heap! It took me about five minutes     t' put Luke Steele away tonigh' -- how long d'ye think I'm goin' t'     need t' put YE down?     Th' only thing that'll be sweeter than strappin' tha'     Intercontinental Title 'round me waist will be th' fact tha' fer     weeks after Ring Wars, everyone's goin' t' talk about how     "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley got the [BLEEP] pounded out of 'im by a     man who wears a "skirt".     Tha's goin' t' be bleedin' _magic_. [Macbeth chuckles confidently to himself as the shot fades...] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Timothy N. Turner ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Timothy N. Turner strolls into the IIWF interview area, clearly not his usual jovial self. In fact, he looks downright annoyed.] TT: It seems that Duncan and I have aroused the ire of that pack of     second rate losers, Genesis. Here I was at ringside, minding my own     business, when Rogers and Smith attack me for ne reason! I mean, I     was only going to give Steele a nice pat on the back for luck...and     look what happens! I can only assume that Genesis wants to ride the     coattails of the fastest rising stars in the IIWF! At Ring Wars,     Duncan will become the best wrestler ever to hold the IC belt. As     soon as President Dan signs the match with Derek Mota, I will become     the best wrestler ever to hold the Cruiserweight belt. This says     nothing of the Syndicate, who may have run off as soon as they heard     Duncan and I making overtures in thier direction! The IIWF is just     heating up and Timothy N. Turner is riding the hot air right to the     top! [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Derek Mota ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Derek Mota walks onto the IIWF Interview Set after the action on IIWF Saturday Night. Mota is looking just as arrogant as ever as he whips not one, but two titles over his shoulders. Over one shoulder lays the coveted IIWF Cruiserweight Title, and over the other ... the ESWP TV Title.] DM: Paris ... Shakespeare ... I think we gotta put some sense into ya.     Ya gotta realize. Whoever makes it to Ring Wars IV has ta fight     me. And you know what?     That ain't a good thing, boys. Just ask Lebec. Just ask Allah.     And just ask St. Croix, who's obviously got a little Mota in him,     who took the beating of his life and just got back in line for     more.     Luke Steele found out that when Derek Mota's on his game, there's no     one that can stop him. But Steele, you put up a good fight for this     here ESWP thingie, and I gotta give ya some credit there. You're     the true class of Wednesday War Room.     So that's enough of the past, let's talk about what counts ... where     Derek Mota is going next ... seems that the whole world is watchin'     these days. I just gotta say ... it's about time. I was gettin'     damn tired of havin' the damn spotlight shined on no-talent hacks     like Genesis all the time ... oh yeah, Rogers ... if you thought     that was the decidin' match, you gotta be kiddin'. The future of     Genesis is on the line here ... do you want a leader who can take     you into the next century, or do you wanna fall apart before you     even make it to Ring Wars? Let me reissue that challenge, Rogers,     cause it seems that you're too scared ta take it.     You and me, boy ... we meet on the 18th, the 25th, whatever. But we     meet in the ring ... in a Steel Cage. You win? I'll admit that I'm     a Scott Rogers wannabe ... that I just wished I was a steroid junkie     like you are ... that I wished I had ta rely on my Genesis buddies     to get in the win column. But if I win ... I'm the leader of     Genesis.     Come on, boys, what's the best thing for ya? We all damn well know     that the wrestling world revolves around Derek Mota. So you might     as well get on the right side of the fence while you still can. Or     are you afraid that you can't keep up? Take the challenge, Rogers.     Take the challenge.     One last thing. [Mota looks off stage and gives the finger to someone off camera.]     Yeah, I know it's your turn next, Paris, but who cares what you have     ta say anyways?     Billy Shakespeare thinks that he can just back out of the tournament     and still get a title shot against me. Well, Shakey, I'm the champ,     and I call the shots here. And who's a bigger contender for the     title right now than you? That's easy. His first name starts with a     T. His last name starts with a T. And his middle name is Norm. If     there's anybody who's worked his butt off, actually FIGHTING in the     ring for title matches, it's good ol' Normy.     Turner, you're a good pal of Macbeth, and just there that means that     I like ya. But it also means that I can't pull any punches against     ya. Cause any friend of Macbeth's gotta be one of the toughest     little buggers in the league ... just look at me. I know you think     you're the best, and that's fine, cause that's the way you gotta     think ta make it big in this sport. You and me, kid, we're gonna     put on the match of a lifetime. Count on it.     And Shakespeare, you got a problem with this? Talk to my lawyer.     He'll have a full report on Friday... [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ronnie Paris ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Ronnie Paris stands resolutely in front of the Monday Musings backdrop, silently holding up the ring, middle, and index fingers of his right hand. The camera zooms in on those three fingers as Paris begins to speak.] RP: Three. It's all about three. Good things come in threes... like the     three men I'll be beating this Wednesday in the Ronnie Paris     challenge. Like the three seconds away I always am from a victory,     or the three men I have left to beat before I get the Cruiserweight     title. The number three has always been kind to me before, lads. And     besides, I'm just so damn good I don't need luck to beat you anyway. [The camera now pulls back out, showing a slightly grinning Paris with sweat still rolling down his brow from the encounter with Derek Mota.] RP: Mota, I'll give you one thing. For a Canadian, you sure as hell know how to brawl. You also know how to wrestle, which makes you     dangerous. But the thing that makes you very much a target is about     a dozen pounds of gold strapped around your waist, and I'm aiming to     hit the target before Billy Shakespeare can even reload. I'm not     sure how fast Little Willie can reload, but I'm sure Spreadbury     would know. [Fade out slowly as Paris chuckles, obviously pleased with the interview he has done.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Machines ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Standing in the IIWF are Paul Wong and Simon O'Neal. They are ignoring the camera, and bellowing at each other] SO: I don't believe it! We had that freak Tragedy under control, and he     somehow cheated to get Icehawk to team with him, and they... maybe     you had some more killer instinct. PW: Killer Instinct? I wasn't the one who let Icehawk tag in. SO: No, but the were the guy who got pinned. PW: I'm sick of hearing this garbage. SO: Fine. I'm getting sick of carrying you in our matches. Maybe I     should find a better partner. [Paul stares silently at O'Neal, then turns around and walks off the set. O'Neal mutters something, then flips off the camera and walks off the other way. Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Prophets Of Rage ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Derek Rage stands before the camera, his eyes hard and cold] DR: Shadoe, I don't know what the hell got into you. We had something     nice going. I can't believe you're blaming me for me getting     bushwhacked by Damage Inc. We ain't gonna go out like that. We're     the best damn team on the planet. Come on, let's get it back. The     Rages ain't about fightin' each other. It's about beatin' down     others. Bruh, come on back. We got business to finish. We got     Damage Inc. to eliminate. C'mon, man. You know the right thing to     do. Bruh, I'm waitin'... [Fade out] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+