[Fade up with slow motion monochrome footage of "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder and the "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin brawling in the aisle surrounded by baying fans at Disneyland. Interspersed are short segments of the brawls between Lord Byron and Otto "the Butcher" Verhoeven. Over these scenes comes a voice over:] VO: Someday... in a perfect world, men of storied honor, of ferocious pride, of legendary determination will be able to forever ride together as champions... as friends. [Mix through to clips of the battles between "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley and Duncan Macbeth, clips of Derek Mota and Timothy N. Turner facing one another in a shoving match, clips of the Harlequins turning on Cold Spell as they have their arms raised together in victory, leaving them lying in the ring as Harlequin Chaos steals Icehawk's World Tag Team Championship belt and head up the aisle.] VO: Someday... in a perfect world, the ultimate prize in all of human endeavour will not be gold, it will not be a championship belt that is the measure of a man's soul... but his capacity to utilize his every potential to the best of his ability... [Mix through once more to clips of the epic brawl between the Prophets of Rage and Damage Inc., spilling into the stands and into the rides at Disneyland, even the valets, Pizzazz and Jeandra, brawling viciously. Cut to clips of the constant running battles between Billy Shakespeare and Ronnie Paris.] VO: Someday... in a perfect world, the crucible of athletic competition will not turn those who are natural rivals into sworn, bitter enemies, incapable of anything but the blackest of desires: complete annhilation of the other... [Cut to clips of Requiem playing his jetblack guitar in the glow of a pale spotlight at the head of the aisle, clips of the Angel of Destruction raising the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship belt above his head, clips of him executing the Reqbreaker gorilla press slam and the Retribution rocker dropper... replaced by clips of Creed standing on the mid-buckle, his gloved left fist thrust into the air while the fans beneath him go wild, clips of the red-gloved wrecking machine hitting the Goodnight Farewell Amen flying superbomb on Mad Dog Watkins from the outfield wall of the Toronto Skydome at Ring Wars III, clips of Creed standing proud, the IIWF Intercontinental Championship belt around his waist...] VO: Someday... in a perfect world, we would never have to say goodbye... [The screen fades to black, the voice over continuing over the darkness:] VO: But this is not a perfect world... this is the IIWF. And this is not someday... this is today. And this... is Ring Wars IV. [The opening graphics explode onto the screen, shattering the inky silence:] ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| | || | \ v v / | __| |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| ________ ______ ______ | | \ \ / / _______ | | \ \__ ___ / / | ____ \ _____|_ __ |____ \ | | | | / __ / _____ _____ | | \ \/_ _| \ | |/ ___\ \ | | __ | | / / \/ | __ \/ ____| | |___/ / | | | \| | / __ \ | |/ \| |/ / /\ \ | |_> | /____ | ____ < | | | \ \ |/ /_ \ \ | / /\ \ | / ____ \| __ <\____ \ | | \ \_| |_| |\ |\___\ \ \| / \\ |/ / / \ \ | \ \____\ \ |_| |_|____/|_| \_|______/ |_/ \\_|\/ / \/_| |_|______/ | | \ / | | \ / |______| \______/ ________________________________________________________________________ \ / \ L I V E! Los Angeles Memoral Coliseum, Los Angeles, CA L I V E! / / Saturday 8 November 1997 \ /______________________________________________________________________\ H + O + U + R O + N + E [Fade up on a reverant 100,000 strong crowd as the final strains of an acoustic version of "America the Beautiful" are belted out from the IIWF ring by recording stars Indigo Girls. Their finish is met by a roaring, thunderous swell of applause and then a tremendous... a brobdignagian volley of fireworks which eminates from the very summit of the historic Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. Quick cuts of the 100,000 plus capacity crowd are seen, fans of all shapes and sizes, all genders and and races, all age demographics from 7 to 77, are shown wearing the merchandise of their favorite IIWF superstar and waving signs with a fervor indicating their tremendous excitement to be attending such an event. An enormous BOOM is heard... followed by the release of hundreds of white doves, circling around the perimeter of the massive Coliseum and bring a huge cheer from the fans as their exit from the building cues the collected to begin turning over a series of orange and black flashcards -- each and every fan flipping over a posterboard sized flashcard -- and as the camera pans back, taking in the totality of the 100,000 plus crowd, the flashcards shown clearly spell out the message of the day: DOUBLE EYE DOUBLE YOU F'N F RING... WARS... FOUR! The shot zooms in to the ringside area, past a number of the international announce tables, Spanish, French, Japanese... and to the official IIWF broadcast team of Tim Dross and Steve "Soundbite" Roberts.] TD: Welcome everyone to the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum! Welcome everyone to the largest American crowd in the history of professional wrestling! Welcome everyone to pay-Per-View as only the _mighty_ IIWF can bring it to you! And welcome everyone to Ring Wars IV! I am Tim Dross alongside my tag team colleague, Steve "Soundbite" Roberts, and we are standing in the middle of some 109,000 fans in the Los Angeles Coliseum, where earlier today the hometown USC Trojans defeated the Stanford Cardinal 45-21... and they are ready for action! SR: You want to talk action, Dross?  You are talking about me last night here in LA LA Land up at the Playboy Mansion with Hef, Jimmy Caan, Scott Baio and a collection of pliant, nubile nineteen year old women who all wanted to see the Soundbite "Shoot," baby dolls! TD: We have twelve big, big matches in what is being called the "Mother of All Pay-Per-Views", Steve Roberts. We are gonna see that big Main Event, Cowboy vs. Cowboy, IIWF World Champion Brody Thunder taking on the legendary "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin! SR: Master of the Triple Cross?  Master of the disloyal backstab is more like it, Thunder.  And you are gonna find out about frontier justice first hand when Jay Dub takes it out on you! TD: The European Alliance will Collide when friends turned bitter rivals Otto Verhoeven and Lord Byron meet in the ring for the very first time! SR: And for the last time, Dross!  Lord Byron's gonna find out why they make gold watches, rocking chairs, Matlock and Social Security checks. When you're retired... stay retired! TD: We are going to see not one... not two... but THREE... three big IIWF World titles on the line tonight!  Intercontinental Champion Chris Quigley will meet the Scotsman, Duncan Macbeth! SR: I don't know what the hell he's saying... and I don't care, Dross... but that damn Macbeth don't need to know the Queen's English to beat the hell out of Queenie Quigley tonight! TD: Cruiserweight Champion Derek Mota will take on the "Rocket Man", Timothy N. Turner! SR: I think it's gonna be a long long time before we get two of the midgets as good as Timmy and the Crazy Canadian Bastard to hook it up in the Double Eye again! TD: ...and in the strangest World Tag Team Title tilt of all time... Icehawk and Tragedy, the Cold Quins, are set to tangle with their former -- and perhaps future -- partners, the team of Harle-Spell... Chaos and Edmund Fitzgerald! SR: Friend vs. friend.  Foe vs. foe... dogs and cats sleeping together... it almost makes me misty, Dross! TD: We are going to see what is being called a "Bragging Rights Match," perhaps the two greatest tag teams from anywhere in the world, the Prophets of Rage and Damage Inc., are going to meet inside the confines of a massive steel cage to determine once and for all: who is best? SR: Well, we just have to check the record book to know that the guy who's best is standing right here, Dross -- but there ain't nothing wrong with either of these teams that a little Steel Cage Juice won't cure! TD: If it is violence you want... if it is extreme, unrepentant hardcore action you want... then look no further than Ring Wars IV and the definitive hardcore test... the Barbed Wire Elimination Match! SR: Psycho, Annis and the last ever match for that punk kid Creed... this one's got the Soundbite Seal of Approval, Dross!  I hear it's gonna be Juice-Fest '97! TD: We've got a two out of three falls match between Billy Shakespeare and Ronnie Paris... we've got a Submission Match between Tony Starks and Ike Sampson... we've got the shocking announcement that former World Champion Requiem will be leaving the IIWF immediately following his match against the mysterious Blind Guardian... we've got the Genesis Explodes match when Scott Rogers teams with Dakota Bundy against his former stablemate Highwayman and Richard "Moxy" Blue... and to kick it all off we have the "Party Maniac" Marty Warnett taking on the newcomer, "The Brat" Bradley Reed! Twelve big matches over three big, big Hours. Pay-Per-View excitement like no-one but the IIWF can bring you! SR: Who the hell are the foreigners, Dross? TD: We will be joined not only by this record crowd of 109,000 screaming, lunatic IIWF fans -- but by a world wide Ring Wars IV pay-per-view audience... we have our Spanish Announce Team, "Here Comes" Hernandez and the Latin American Sensation, Hugo Hugo! [Cut to the fast talking Hernandez and Hugo... the words "Outlaw Hardin" clearly discernable.] SR: Stay away from the nose candy, "Here Comes". TD: We have our French announce team, Mr. Gerard LeTorte and the legendary Ousmanne DuFault! [Cut to the French announce table where LeTorte and DuFault are speaking in rapidfire French, the only obvious English words being "Lone Wolf Thunder".] TD: Finally from the Far East, our friends from Japan, Charlie Innamoto and the Master of the Giant Swing, Tio Tiiaolo! [Cut to the Japanese announce table, where the commentators appear to be seriously discussing the card... the only clearly English words being, "Shoot, Soundbite! Shoot!] SR: J-A-P-A-N!... J-A-P-A-N!  We oughta use these guys to call that barbed wire match, Dross... or at least to bring their sisters to walk on our backs! TD: It is an international audience... it is the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum... it is Pay-Per-View like only the IIWF can bring you... and it is coming your way... right now! SR: And what better way to kick off three fulls hours of action than with Marty Warnett getting pounded into paste? TD: I wouldn't go counting out Warnett. We know very little about Bradley Reed but we do know how tough Marty is! He is a former Intercontinental Champion and a great competitor! SR: So what does being an IC champ mean? Think about it... the current holder is Chris Quigley! TD: Quigley has been a worthy champion and he will defend his title against Duncan Macbeth later tonight in a no disqualification match-up! SR: You can stop the heavy sell, Dross! Anyone who can hear you has already bought the thing! It looks like Sparky wants to say a few words. TD: Indeed -- let's get up to the ring. It all starts here, folks! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|................................................... | || | \ v v / | __| Marty Warnett vs. "The Brat" Bradley Reed |_||_| \_/\_/ |_|..................................................... WRITER: RP [Sparkplug Lee stands in the ring gazing through the stands, as if trying to spot somebody. Finally Steve Roberts throws a wadded up piece of paper at him to get his attention.] SL: Oh, uh, yes. The first match if IIWF's Ring Wars IV is set for one fall. Introducing first... hailing from Chicago, Illinois... weighing in at 230 pounds... and accompanied by his bodyguard Stone... here is "The Brat" Bradley Reed! ["Self Esteem" by Offspring blares over the PA system as the massive Stone steps out from behind the curtain. Stone starts his long walk to the ring when Reed finally appears at the runway -- but not alone. The dastardly Reed has a young girl, no older then six years, holding his hand while he skips with her down to ringside. Reed makes sure he lets his presence be known by agitating several fans with distasteful comments. He even takes a soda from one fan and pours it on his head. This peeves off the male fan, taking a swing at Reed who ducks out of the way. This catches the attention of Stone, who pulls the fan over the ring barrier and lands three sharp kicks on the fan's chest. Security move quickly to quell the disturbance and force the undemonstrative Stone away.] SR: Boy, that Stone sure is protective of Reed! TD: That was despicable. I know wrestlers have a right to protect themselves from fans -- but Reed initiated that. [Stone then enters the ring and hold the ring ropes open for Reed and the young girl. Reed prances around the ring to a huge heel pop and then grabs the mic from the hands of Sparkplug.] BR: Warnett! I've decided that I have been enough of a pain in your side and since you have been such a good sport I thought I would reward you with a gift before the match. I've decided I would give you a beautiful girl for the night [points to the six year old]. Now, this isn't exactly something I relish in, but I hear this is the type of girl you prefer, so have fun. She's a virgin, you know. [Reed laughs uncontrollably] All right, Warnett, let's rock! TD: Bradley Reed is a twisted individual! How can he... Steve Roberts! Stop laughing! This isn't funny! SR: I... ha ha... I... ha ha... he he. [Sparkplug Lee, having recovered the mic from Reed, finishes his introductions:] SL: And his opponent... hailing from Cardiff, Wales... weighing in at 245 pounds... it is "The Party Maniac" Marty Warnett! [As "Just Like Paradise" kicks in, Marty strolls out, wearing a Miami Dolphins cap backwards, a ripped Marilyn Manson T-Shirt and his usual wrestling attire underneath. He carries a bag in one hand, a microphone in another. He turns to the crowd, smiles, and starts to talk.] MW: Whoa, there... halt that funky music, the Party Maniac has something to say... [The crowd pop stops, as a silent air of expectation occurs.] MW: Now, I don't know, Reed, what your problem is, son, but it seems to me that maybe, just maybe, you should look to the future to find your smile, because the past is the past, and tonight, the present is going to be damned painful! [The crowd pop big-time, with a chant of "Juice the Goose!" starting.] MW: You have two advantages over me, Reed; surprise, and that big mute friend of yours. [Marty looks around, and a big grin appears on his face.] MW: Now, I've been around the IIWF long enough to know how to deal with gang attacks, Reed, and right now, tonight, I have with me two friends watching my back. Two people with no incentive to create trouble. Two spiritual men. Two men who'll watch my back. Come on out, guys ... [Some Tibetan mantra plays over the PA system, as two largish men appear, clad in brown hooded cloaks. Their heads are bowed, hiding their features. The only tell-tale sign is the the man of the left giggling, the man on the right slapping him, and Marty dropping the bag and removing several bags of sugar... The hoods are thrown back to reveal...] TD: It's the Alphabet Boys! SR: This is who Warnett has to watch his back?! TD: Warnett is leading Abie and Zed down to ringside using the sugar bags! [Warnett puts the sugar bags in his corner as Dave D'Amato ushers the young girl and Stone out of the ring.] TD: That poor young girl is being taken back to the dressing room and the Alphabet Boys are crowding around the bags in Marty's corner. SR: The Brat has the mic back... I think he wants to say something to Marty... TD: I'll say he does! Look at this -- Reed jumps Warnett before the bell! [Warnett tries to climb through the ropes and Reed pounces, pounding him with the mic. The two men go at it tooth and nail!] SR: Look at these two pound on each other! You'd think they were fighting over the right to buy Soundbite's dinner! TD: The anger in both of these men is incredible for people who have hardly met each other! [Warnett starts gaining the upper hand but Reed stops that by punching Warnett directly in the groin.] TD: What was that? Why isn't D'Amato stopping this? SR: This is Ring Wars, baby! No one paid to see a thirty second match! Let them fight! [Reed throws Warnett through the ropes and follows him to the outside. The brawling continues with Stone distracting D'Amato every time the count gets close to ten.] TD: Marty Warnett's head just bounced off that ring barrier! Bradley Reed is an animal! SR: It looks like Walnutt's head doesn't hold anything important since he's getting right back up! TD: What a feat of strength by Marty Warnett! Despite just getting his head smashed into the steel railing, he has just hoisted Reed up into a military press! SR: Not for long! Here comes Stone! [Warnett sees the big body guard coming and heaves Reed at him...only to have Stone catch him and throw him right back!] TD: A cross body press by Bradley Reed! Marty Warnett's power just backfired! SR: I'm liking this Reed more and more! He just introduced Warnett's head to the ringpost! TD: This has gotten way out of hand! Why doesn't someone do something about it! SR: Someone is! Reed is up on the apron and getting lectured by Dave D'Amato. TD: It's about...oh! Stone has just leveled Warnett with a steel chair! How can Warnett be expected to face both of these men? SR: Hey, he's got two guys in his corner! TD: Yeah, but they're just standing there! [Stone rolls Warnett into the ring where Reed is there to meet him. He lines Marty up and climbs to the top rope.] TD: An amazing moonsault by Bradley Reed but Marty Warnett wasn't there! SR: Walnut still had enough going on in that dented head to avoid the move! He's leaving the ring! What's he doing?! TD: Marty Warnett is admonishing the Alphabet Boys for not watching his back! Stone has been able to interfere freely and Marty's back-up have done nothing about it! [Warnett, as of yet unable to take Abie and Zed's attention form the sugar bags finally resorts to desperate measures.] SR: Warnett just shoved one of the bags down his trunks! What is that pervert doing? TD: He's trying to get the attention of the Alphabet Boys... and he's got it! SR: He's got Stone's attention too! Stone just added another Warnett-shaped dent to that Steel chair! TD: Bradley Reed kept Dave D'Amato's attention away from the action outside of the ring but why aren't the Alphabet Boys doing anything? SR: They are...they're arguing! [Abie and Zed are seemingly arguing about whose fault it was that Warnett got clobbered as Stone rolls Marty back into the ring.] SR: The flakes are leaving! The only enemy of these two morons is each other! TD: I don't think Marty is any worse off without them than he was with them! [The Alphabet Boys head up the aaisle, fans on both side of the aaisle clamouring to touch the two old IIWF favourites as they leave -- although Abie and Zed appear to be ready to beat one another up rather than accept the adulation of the fans. Meanwhile, in the ring, Reed connects with a superkick and follows it up with a spin wheel kick as soon as Warnett gets back to his feet.] TD: Warnett is barely conscious! No one could withstand this kind of assault by Reed and Stone! SR: Other than yours truly, of course...and J.W. Hardin! TD: Reed has put Warnett up on the turnbuckle and is climbing up on the outside... he's going to superplex him to the outside! SR: Do it, Brat! Let's go hardcore, baby dolls! Owwwww! [Reed does just that as he and Warnett both come crashing down through the French announcers' tables!] TD: That was unbelievable! SR: If that's too much for you, Drossie, you better leave before Hardin gets here! TD: Bradley Reed is getting up slowly... SR: That's a damn sight better than Warnett! He's not getting up at all! [Reed climbs into the ring and Dave D'Amato starts a verbal assault on him. Reed steers D'Amato to the other side of the ring as Stone approaches the wreckage where Warnett lies.] SR: Isn't that nice of the big guy, to pick Marty up! TD: Stone just brought one of the monitors from the ruins of the announcer's table down on Marty's back! This is more punishment than one man should take! Punishment like this put the Phoenix out of action! SR: Whoa now, Dross! As much as I am impressed by the Brat and his big friend, they are not J.W. Hardin! [Stone rolls Marty back into the ring at Reed pulls him too his feet. He then whips him into the ropes and takes him down with a Hurricarana.] TD: The force of that move sent Marty Warnett's legs right into Dave D'Amato! The referee has been knocked clear out of the ring! SR: He wasn't really doing anything, anyway. TD: Stone is going and trying to revive D'Amato. I guess Reed wants to put Marty away. Wait! Who's coming down the aaisle? SR: It's Stud Stetson! What does this loser want? TD: He's not happy about Bradley Reed appropriating his persona! [It certainly is Stud Stetson but he looks very different. His long hair has been cut down to a crew cut. His goatee is also shaven off. He is wearing black jeans, a black tank top, and a black leather jacket.] SR: What's with all the black? Is he in mourning for his career? TD: Reed is sure looking warily at Stetson. Stetson has a chair and is throwing it inside the ring! SR: The Brat's no dummy! He's scooting out the other side! What gives this guy the right to interfere in a match? TD: You can't be serious? After what Reed and Stone have done to Marty? This stopped being a match less than a minute after it started! [Stetson goes over to check on Warnett. He helps the groggy wrestler to his feet and then...] SR: DDT on the steel chair! Stud Stetson has just DDT'd Marty Warnett on the steel chair! TD: This is despicable! Reed is climbing up onto the turnbuckle as Stetson holds Warnett down! There is no real need... I don't think Marty is conscious! [Stone climbs into the ring in front of Reed and the smaller man climbs from the top turnbuckle onto Stone's shoulders. He then leaps...] TD: A frog splash from over seven feet in the air! Marty Warnett has taken more punishment in this match than many wrestlers do in their entire careers! SR: That's the Paramount Splash, baby dolls! This match is over! [Stone and Stetson climb out of the ring and help D'Amato in. The count is slow from the injured ref, but he could probably count to twenty: 1 - 2 - 3! Ding! Ding! Ding! Huge, huge heel pop!] SL: Your winner... "The Brat" Bradley Reed! TD: This is a travesty! There is no way that they can get away with this! SR: They already have! [Stone and Stetson climb back into the ring and Stone hands Reed a spray paint can.] TD: Isn't the beating they have given this man enough? SR: Look at that! They painted "Reed's Bitch" on Walnutt's back! This guy is going places! TD: I hope they're going as far away as possible. This is disgraceful. [The three perpetrators head back to the dressing rooms, with Reed and Stetson laughing all the way. An EMT unit is brought out and they put Marty Warnett onto a gurney and take him away from ringside.] TD: We can only hope that Marty's injuries are not too serious... SR: Speak for yourself! TD: I can guarantee that Marty Warnett will not let this ride! He will want a return match, that's for certain! SR: He'll just get more of the same! TD: We'll try and get an update on the condition of Marty Warnett later tonight, folks -- but I have a feeling that Reed and Stetson would be best advised to leave the Coliseum right now! Okay, folks, we must move straight on to our next match tonight -- in which Genesis will explode! Former stablemates Highwayman and Scott Rogers will team up with Richard "Moxy" Blue and "One Man Army" Dakota Bundy respectively... and it's going to be a wild, wild match. Let's get up to the ring! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|................................................... | || | \ v v / | __| GENESIS EXPLODES: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Highwayman & Richard "Moxy" Blue vs. Scott Rogers & "One Man Army" Dakota Bundy ........................................................................ WRITER: SC [The crowd begins to quiet down a bit as Chuck Sanders rolls into the ring to officiate the next match. Next to enter the ring is Sparkplug Lee with microphone in hand. Sparky waves to the crowd as the camera shot switches to one from the lighting rig set high above the ring, down into the ring. The bell sounds, signifying the next contest is about to start, which draws quite an excited cheer from the crowd.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen. The following contest is a tag team attraction, set for one fall! First, making their way down the aisle... at a total combined weight of 525 pounds... Hailing from York, PA and Hurricane, Utah, accompanied by "The Mouth" Matt Malone, here are the team of "One Man Army" Dakota Bundy and his partner, Scott "The Fop" Rogers! [The crowd are quick to release their disapproval for the team, even before Dakota and Scott find their ways out of the back. "Climbatize" by The Prodigy begins to pump its way through the speakers, as the camera pans up the aisle from the lighting rig to show an over-head view of the wrestlers. Matt Malone is out first, followed by the "One Man Army" Dakota Bundy. The camera does a quick close up of Bundy's scarred head, and black square face paint covering his face, with a red and gold rim. Bundy flashes a smile to the camera, to expose his near toothless smile. Bundy is wearing his traditional black trunks and boots. Several cameras flash as he and Malone walk by, and Malone tries to tell the fans, "no flash photography!"] TD: What is he talking about? Of course they can use flash photography if they want to. SR: Yeah, but we're outside, Dross. There's no need for the flash. TD: Good grief. It's just a picture. Dakota Bundy looks ready for a rumble here, and I have the feeling that is exactly what he's going to get. [Following behind Bundy now, is Scott "The Fop" Rogers. Rogers is dressed in his dark blue trunks and boots with red laces. Rogers is quick to flash a "warm-hearted" smile and poses for the camera as a chant of "Steroid Freak! Steroid Freak!" begins to be picked up by the one hundred thousand plus in attendence. Scott becomes annoyed and shouts a few profanities to the crowd, before hitting the ring with Dakota. The two stand in the ring as they each raise their arms, totaly confident in each other's abilities.] TD: Confident looks on the faces of those two men, Steve Roberts. SR: I think you have confidence mistaken with ugliness, Dross. SL: And their opponents... weighing in at a combined weight of 470 pounds... [Suddenly the Prodigy are cut off by "Stand And Deliver."] SL: First, hailing from Leeds England, here is Adam Smith... The Highwayman! [Smith makes his way out from behind the curtains, looking right ticked off. Smith is just wearing his ring attire, consisting of grey leather trousers, and black knee high leather boots. Smith makes is about half way down the aisle, when "Oh yeah, RIGHTEOUS!!!" suddenly crashes out over the PA, followed by a heavy metal/slide guitar version of the classic "Blue Moon." The crowd begins to pop loudly.] SL: And his partner, formerly from Bayonne, Louisiana, now residing in Chester, Nova Scotia... here is Richard "Moxy" Blue! [The crowd continues to cheer as the curtains burst apart, and we see Richard burst out on a little blue clown scooter! Blue's ring attire consists of blue tights and a singlet, which are iridescent blue, as they reflect light in unique and unusual ways. They also feature the words "OH YEAH, RIGHTEOUS!" in a spiral pattern running down the right leg in pink neon letters. Blue's face is painted up to mock Dakota's face paint, as it is a blue square, with a happy face on it. Blue wears no shirt, but features the words "I need no catchy shirt!" written on his chest in blue marker. Blue zooms past an unsuspecting Highwayman, on the scooter and nearly causes Highwayman to lose his balance and fall over. Blue chuckles to himself as he scoots around ringside, clapping some hands. He stops in front of Dross and Roberts and hops off.] SR: Oh great, what's this kid want now? TD: It looks like he just wants to have a good time, Steve. [Indeed, "Moxy" is looking to have a good time as he climbs up onto the commentator's table and begins to shake his booty. The crowd roars in delight as he continues. He points down to his pants and begins to bring his hands to the top of his tights.] SR: Geez, Dross, looks like's about to have too much of a good time! [Moxy reaches in an inch and pulls out a pair of his blue sunglasses shaped like waning moons and puts them on. Moxy continues his dance and mutters some nonsense to Dross, then hops down and jumps up onto the apron. He points out to the crowd as he seems ecstatic to be out in front of such a large number of people. Dakota and Rogers stand in their corner, unimpressed by Moxy's antics, as Matt Malone gets out of the ring. Moxy hops up to the top rope and begins to shake his buttocks once again, and waves his arms up and down to roar up the crowd. A blue spotlight lands on Blue as he shakes around on the buckle.] TD: Richard "Moxy" Blue is clowning around here, and the capacity crowd loves him! SR: What the hell is with those pants? And the scooter? And the face paint?! I thought they made it illegal to be a wrestling clown?! TD: What? I've never heard of any law! But I'm sure Larry Morton would be relieved if it were true. To change topics, who are you going for in this one, Steve? SR: I just don't know who to cheer in this. I mean, The Ugly Guy's teaming with the steroid freak, while the side-show clown is with the un-dead cave man! There's just too many insults here! I don't know who I hate more! TD: Why don't you call the match down the middle for once, then? SR: What the hell's got into you tonight, Dross buddy? [In the ring, Blue continues his antics, when suddenly The Highwayman drops off the opposite trunbuckle and connects with a flying double bulldog onto Bundy and Rogers, driving them down to the mat. The crowd releases a big cheer as the lights raise and the bell rings.] TD: Highwayman! No one was watching Highwayman! We were distracted by Blue! [Highwayman begins to pummel Rogers with axe handles and forearms, not allowing the Hurricane resident to his feet. Blue spots the action and immediately follows up with a flying dropkick off the top rope that connects with Dakota, knocking him back a few feet and over the top rope. The crowd continues to pop like crazy as Highwayman lifts up Rogers and clotheslines Rogers over the top rope, on top of Bundy! Huge pop from the excited crowd! Blue hops around the ring soaking in all the cheers, as Highwayman stares at Rogers on the floor.] TD: The intensity here is thick tonight Steve. Look at Smith stare a hole right through "The Fop". SR: I don't buy it. I smell a set-up here somewhere... TD: For Pete's sake, Steve, will you give it up? SR: I don't plan on it any time soon... [Blue walks over to his partner to discuss a little last minute discussion about the match. Smith merely nods his head, approving Blue's plan. "Moxy" responds with a mile wide grin and then proceeds to reach out and actually hug the Highwayman! Highwayman's staredown with Rogers is broken as he is quick to shove the much smaller "Moxy" down to the mat, saying, "What are you doing?!"] SR: Hehe. Look at Smith! That got his attention! TD: And Rogers is quick to capitalize! Look! [Indeed he is, as Rogers sees Smith break away from his stare and quickly proceeds to reach under the ropes and trip down the Highwayman and pull him out to the floor. There, Rogers and Bundy begin to pummel Smith with fists and kicks until Highwayman is down on the mats. In the ring, Blue gets up and pulls Dakota Bundy up onto the mat, and ropeflips him in.] TD: I guess Blue and Bundy are the legal men to start this. [Blue runs to the ropes and fires off with a flying forearm, but is caught and powerslammed by Bundy. Bundy follows up with a series of elbows, followed by a leg drop. Bundy covers but only snags a one count. On the outside, Rogers finally becomes satisfied with the beat down of Highwayman, and returns to his corner. Bundy scoops up Richard Blue with great ease and brings him down with a backbreaker, onto his knee. Bundy holds it however, pressing down on Blue with a torture rack styled move.] TD: This is a move Bundy tends to favor. He calls it the Bundybreaker, and it appears to be breaking the will of young Richard Blue in the early stages of this match! [Bundy keeps the hold on Blue for a full minute before letting go. Outside, Highwayman is stirring as he makes it up to his knees. Rogers sees this and positions himself to lunge at Smith when his hand is slapped and Bundy tags out. Rogers looks confused at Dakota, and then decides to get into the ring. Rogers goes to drop an elbow on Blue, but telegraphs it and Blue rolls out of the way at the last minute. Smith is up now, and proceeds to make it back to his corner. Rogers is up first and swings a wild punch at Blue, who ducks it and places his hands on Rogers' shouldersa, leaping up to perform a hurricarana -- but Rogers simply latches on and pushes up, launching Blue up into the air. Blue is carried over the ropes and accidentally collides with Smith standing on the apron. Smith falls back with Blue and the two crash down onto the floor.] TD: Oh my! These two are not getting off on a good foot. It would appear that Highwayman wasn't very appreciative of Moxy's hug, and paid for it -- and now he collides with him! SR: Bundy and Rogers have it together, Dross. They know how to act as a team, and I think it's apparent that Blue and Smith don't have a clue as to what they are doing. [Smith is surprisingly the first to his feet and is soon followed by a woozy Blue. They both return to the apron. Blue tags Smith's hand making him the legal man. Smith gets into the ring and runs straight into a clothesline from Rogers -- but Highwayman does not go down. Rogers follows up with another. Same response. The crowd begin to chant "Steroid Freak!" again, as Rogers runs to the ropes again and lunges at Smith with a flying clothesline. Highwayman catches him and drives him down to the mat with a sidewalk slam!] TD: That's a near 300 pound man that Smith caught with ease and dropped down! Amazing! [Smith follows up with a knee drop to Rogers' temple. Smith covers and manages a two count. Smith is quick to pounce back on Rogers, hitting him with chops and then a big punch which rocks "The Fop" to the buckles. Smith follows and climbs the buckles and begins to hammer away on his former stable mate. The crowd counts with the punches: "ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE!" Smith points up to the clear, cloudless sky and yells as he connects with a tenth. Chuck Sanders threatens to disqualify Smith if he hits him any more, but doesn't have much to worry about as Dakota Bundy runs over, climbs the buckles, and shoves off Smith. Bundy climbs down and is forced back to his corner as a dazed Rogers stumbles over to his corner and tags in Bundy. Matt Malone shouts some words of encouragement to Bundy, who charges Smith. Smith side steps, sending Bundy crashing face first to Blue's corner buckle. Highwayman follows up with an avalanche splash, ringing Bundy's face into the buckle once more. Matt Malone jumps up onto the apron to protest and Sanders struggles to get him off. In the mean time, Richard proceeds to yank Bundy by his head into the buckle repeatively. After Bundy's head has been rung several times, he walks back, woozy right into the arms of the Highwayman, who proceeds to swing around and hit the Daylight Robbery neckbreaker!] TD: There it is! This one is over -- cover that man, Highwayman! [Malone shouts even louder, but hops down as Highwayman leans down to make the cover, but on the way down, Blue slaps his hand and is tagged in. Highwayman still makes the cover, but Sanders doesn't count and begins to order a confused Smith out of the ring. Blue jumps to the turnbuckle again and jumps off with a flying splash. He covers, but by now Bundy's had enough time to figure out where he is, and places his foot on the ropes thus breaking the count.] TD: Bundy looks like he's in trouble here, Steve. SR: Why do you keep saying my name at the end of every sentence you say? Do you think I _want_ to talk to you, let alone sit next to you? Let me do the talking. TD: Fine. In that case, I'll just let the master go to work. SR: Good boy, Dross. Remind me to give you a biscuit later. Okay... we got the Blue guy protesting to the ref that it was a three count. I saw three. The ref must be an idiot or something. TD: But his foot was on the ropes! It breaks the pinfall! SR: Look, didn't I tell you I'll do the talking? [As Blue argues, Bundy yanks Blue by his tights over and cradles for a pin, near Blue's own corner. Chuck Sanders counts one, two before stopping the count as he hears a tag made. Highwayman looks at Blue in confusement, since he didn't reach for a tag.] TD: It would appear Highwayman didn't know he was tagged. To be honest, I didn't even see the tag. SR: That's cause there _was_ no tag, Dross. Moxy pulled the "clap your hands" tag trick! And it worked! [Indeed it did as Highwayman jumps into the ring and begins pummelling Bundy with kicks and kneelifts. Blue rolls out, and slaps Smith's hands tagging himself back into the match. Smith holds open Bundy as Blue flies off the top turnbuckle with a flying dropkick that would knock out Bundy's teeth if he had any. Blue picks up Bundy and whips him to the ropes, only to be reversed and dragged into a vicious forearm to the temple which drops Blue to the mat.] TD: Firearm! Bundy just knocked out Richard Blue with a firearm! Both men are down! [Chuck begins to count down both wrestlers, as they lay on the mat. Both of their face paint has begun to wear off, and Steve Roberts notes that it literally is making Dakota Bundy uglier by the minute. Dakota finally lunges forward as Chuck's count reaches eight, and makes the tag to Scott Rogers. Scott walks in and whips Blue to the ropes and fires a big boot. Blue ducks it and fires off the rebound ropes with a clothesline, but Rogers drops to his belly and Blue jumps over him. Rogers gets right back to his feet as "Moxy" bounces back once more, and connects a hip toss. However, Blue lands on his feet and leaps up into the air and wraps an arm around Rogers' thick and muscular neck and attempts to drive him down with a DDT. However, Blue simply doesn't have the weight to drop Rogers and Scott stands with Blue hanging in his arms. Rogers shoves Blue into the turnbuckle and fires a stiff elbow, but misses and connects with the ringpost! A large pop occurs as Blue pushes Rogers back into the buckle and connects his head with the top buckle.] TD: It seems that Rogers and Blue are adapting to each other's styles very well. They seem to know each other's counters and weaknesses. I think those two probably have done the most homework in this match. SR: Maybe, but Bundy doesn't need to do his homework! He has Malone! Also, Dross, don't forget that Rogers and Highwayman are still secret members of Genesis. They know each other well too! TD: Will you give it up? SR: How many times do you ask me that? And the answer is always no! [Blue reaches out and tags in Highwayman who whips Rogers to the ropes and hits a running kneelift. Smith scoops up Rogers and slams him down to the mat hard as the crowd cheers on. Smith hammers away on Rogers with punches, kicks and even a headbutt! Smith sends Scott to the ropes yet again, and uncharacteristicly tries a dropkick. Rogers is wise to this and holds on to the ropes, causing Smith to land on the mat. Rogers reaches out and tags back in Dakota Bundy. Bundy gets in and cradles Smith for only a one count from Sanders. Dakota yanks Highwayman up and scoop slams him back down. Dakota scrapes back up Adam Smith and plants him down yet again with a double arm underhook DDT.] TD: He calls that the DBT. SR: You mean DDT, Dross. TD: I meant what I said, Steve Roberts. [Bundy pounces for the pinfall: 1 - 2 - but is stomped on by Richard "Moxy" Blue, who saves his partner from defeat at the last second. Bundy takes offense to this and gets up and into Blue's face. Blue backs off, but stalls enough time for Smith to drag himself over to the corner. Bundy drops an elbow drop, but misses and Smith makes the much needed tag. Blue comes in and wails away on Bundy with kicks and chops and finishes off the series with a savate kick. Bundy, however, absorbs it all and does not go down, against Blue's knowledge. Blue waves out to the crowd and is clotheslined by a still standing Bundy. Scott Rogers now hops down from the corner and picks up Blue's scooter, left in front of Steve "Soundbite" Roberts. He returns to the corner, concealing the little scooter behind his back, and signals to Bundy.] TD: Uh-oh. I knew it would only be a matter of time before things got out of hand here. SR: Yes! At last, this is finally getting interesting! [Bundy sees Rogers, nods, and goes to whip Richard Blue into the scooter. However, Blue sees his scooter and holds on to Bundy to reverse the whip, and ends up whipping Dakota into the buckle! The crowd feels let down though, when Bundy puts on the breaks right before he smashes into the buckle and Rogers' scooter. Bundy and Scott flash big smiles as Bundy taps his head, saying he's too smart for that.] TD: Great teamwork there by Bundy and Rogers! They knew what was happening, and narrowly avoided it. OH MY! [Rogers smiles and proceeds to smash the scooter down over Bundy's head anyway. Bundy drops down to one knee as Blue hits a DDT into the mat. Rogers drops the dented scooter and gets into the ring and begins to stomp away at Dakota Bundy, with Richard "Moxy" Blue! Shocked pop!] SR: Heh. So much for great teamwork, huh, Dross? TD: Scott Rogers has turned on his own partner! Look out! Here comes the Highwayman now! [Highwayman walks over to Bundy who is still being kicked by Rogers and Blue. Scott stops and looks up at Highwayman. Smith stares at Rogers, emotionless... and then begins stomping away on Dakota too!] TD: Oh my! This was a set-up the entire time! I don't believe this! SR: I told ya, Dross! Genesis never broke up! It was all a work! Where's Annis and Requiem?! [The three men continue to stomp away on Bundy. Matt "The Mouth" Malone quickly jumps up to the apron yelling at Rogers for betraying them. Rogers simply shoves Malone down off the apron to the mats below. Highwayman drags Dakota to the center of the ring, as "Moxy" Blue climbs the ropes and jumps off with a Righteous Revival which is like a vaderbomb, but with a front somersault in midair and landing on his back. Bundy is hurt on the mat as the three, Scott "The Fop" Rogers, The Highwayman, and Richard "Moxy" Blue slow down in their attack, and begin to space it out, having more fun with it. All three men sport huge smiles, as the crowd gives a mixed reaction.] TD: Come on, we need some help out here! [Out rushes the Jobber Justice Squad to break up Genesis' party. However, Moxy cuts them off from the ring, as he swings the scooter around in the air, threatening to hit them. Dakota Bundy is laid out in the center of the ring, barely moving as The Highwayman and Scott Rogers raise their hands in victory. The ref finally decides he has lost total control of the match deciding to ring the bell. Ding! Ding! Ding! Rogers kicks Bundy's ribs once again, as Highwayman asks for the mic from Lee. He is given the mic and goes to the center of the ring once again, and stands next to Rogers.] HWY: It looks like everyth.... [Highwayman's words are cut _very_ short by Richard Blue who strikes Smith, from behind, in the back of the head with the scooter. The mic falls as does Smith. Rogers stands back as Blue rams the scooter once more against Highwayman's skull. Moxy then climbs the buckles one more time and flies off with a True Blue springboard somersault senton backsplash. The move has its effect on the tired Blue, who has some difficulty getting right up. Rogers looks pissed and goes and pulls up Richard "Moxy" Blue and raises his fist.] TD: Blue double-crossed Genesis! This is unbelievable! [Rogers then connects... with a high five! A huge shocked pop from the crowd is heard as the two embrace over the fallen Bundy and Highwayman!] TD: Oh my! This was another set-up! It was Blue and Rogers working together the entire time! This is unbelievable! SR: Well, screw my Genesis theory. It seems that Rogers has found himself a new friend in Richard "Moxy" Blue. SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has declared this match... a NO CONTEST! TD: And the two raise their hands in victory! This is disgusting. [The two decide they've done enough, and allow the JJS to slip in. Rogers and Blue head back up the aisle, raising their arms and yelling out to the crowd. Some fans throw garbage in the duo's direction, but fail to connect. In the ring, the JJS approach Smith and Bundy and drag Highwayman out to the floor. Ned Norton attempts to help up Bundy, but is hit with a Firearm forearm for his troubles. The wounded Bundy rolls under the ropes and heads for the back, with Matt Malone shortly behind him. Highwayman similarly drags himself to his feet, rubbing the back of his head and kicking the ringsteps in frustration as he too makes his way back to the locker rooms. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: It's about time for our next match here, and what a match it's going to be! SR: Two pissed off guys, fighting until one of 'em gives up.  Trying to injure, cripple, or maim their opponent.  Now _this_ is entertainment. TD: Both Tony Starks and Ike Sampson have a long history of bad blood. And it's all going to come to a head here tonight, right now, at Ring Wars! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|................................................... | || | \ v v / | __| SUBMISSION SHOWDOWN: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Tony Starks vs. Ike Sampson ........................................................................ WRITER: RR [Scene cuts down to the ring, where Sparkplug Lee is dancing to the melodic sounds of "Tusk", as played by the USC marching band.  He notices it's time for the next match and, like a conductor, quickly stops all the music with a wave of his baton... er, announcer's mic.] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, this next match is scheduled for one fall, and can only be won by causing one's opponent to submit!  No countouts, no disqualifications, not even pinfalls!  Introducing the first combatant now... he hails from North Carolina, and weighs in at 306lbs... here is the "Big Dog"... IKE SAMPSON! [The crowd pops as "Kiss" by Prince kicks in over the PA, and Sampson makes his way out from the back, striding down to the ring with a grim look on his face.  A battered chair rests on his shoulder, which is laid down next to the ring when he reaches it.  He climbs in, raises both his arms above his head, then tests the ringropes as he waits for his opponent.] RA: And his opponent, hailing from Staten Island, New York, and weighing in at 269lbs... here is... TONY STARKS! [Starks pushes aside the curtains to the backstage entrance, a towel draped around his neck.  He stares straight at Sampson the entire length of the aisle, tosses his towel aside to the timekeeper, and climbs into the ring.  As he does so, however, Sampson charges him and catches him with a knee as Starks steps between the second and third ropes, then pulls him into the ring.  Lee scrambles out of the ring as the timekeeper rings the bell, as Sampson continues stomping away at his opponent.] TD: And Sampson is wasting no time taking the match to Starks! SR: Yeah, but in the entire time I've been here, I don't think I've EVER seen Sampson use a submission move.  Granted, what he's doing now is pretty effective, in stomping Starks into paste, but unfortunately it won't win the match this time. [Sampson grabs Starks by the back of the neck and picks him up, spinning him around and locking a full-nelson on, using his strength to shake Starks back and forth.  The referee follows Starks back and forth, trying to see if there's a submission, to which Starks responds by reaching back, grabbing Sampson by the back of the head and sitting down into a Jawbreaker.  Ike lets go and staggers around the ring, clutching at his mouth, while Starks slowly gets to his feet, rubbing at his shoulders.] TD: Good strategy by Sampson, but Starks managed to reverse it. SR: Thing is, Sampson's hurting Starks' arms.  That's what he needs to lock that Katha Jime on you.  No arms, no Jime.  No Jime, no win.  No win, no paycheck.  No paycheck, well... let's just say the rest of the brothers get pissed. TD: Once again, I want to apologize for my colleague's racially insensitive remarks here. [Back in the ring, Starks and Sampson have squared off again.  Ike fires out with a hard right that catches Starks in the jaw, then unloads with a body blow to the ribs that crumples Starks.  Sampson, sensing this weak point, picks Starks up into a bear hug and squeezes, forcing the referee to check for a submission again.] TD: And Sampson wisely going after Starks' ribs, which may not have healed totally yet from Otto Verhoeven's attack. [As the referee asks, Starks jabs a thumb into Ike's eye, forcing him to drop his opponent.  Starks touches his ribs tenderly for a second, then lunges forward and grabs Sampson's wrist.  He throws all his weight forward, hitting the mat next to Ike and twisting his arm back into an armbar submission hold that has Sampson shouting in pain.  Ike reaches for the ropes, missing by a fraction of an inch, then pulls himself over slowly until he can just barely grab a hold of it with his fingertips. The referee breaks the hold, forcing Starks away, but Starks is right back on top of Sampson, pushing him back into the corner and laying into him with brutal chops and punches.  He grabs Sampson to whip him to the far side... but Sampson stops dead in the middle, swings around, and throws Starks back-first into the opposite corner, causing him to stagger out.  Ike lurches forward, slamming his forearm right into Starks' throat in a lariat that flips him over 360 degrees and plants him on the mat.] TD: NOW we're seeing why Sampson can be so dangerous.  That brute strength of his tends to overpower an opponent quickly. SR: You got a point there, Dross, but... hey, what's Sampson doing? [In the ring, Sampson is looking down at the prone Starks, chuckling.  He kicks him in the ribs once or twice, just for good measure and, when he is convinced that Starks is not getting up under his own power anytime soon, slowly draws a thumb across his throat.  He picks Starks up, turns him around, and...] TD: Katha Jime!  Ike Sampson has just applied the Katha Jime to Tony Starks, and is choking him out with his own finishing move! [Sampson wraps his arm around Starks' throat, and pulls him backwards towards the center of the ring to make sure he can't reach the ropes.  He picks Starks up for a moment, off the mat, by his throat, then leans back for more leverage... but Starks whips back with an elbow, catching Sampson right in the temple.  Sampson eases up on the pressure for just a moment, but that is all the veteran Starks needs to shift his weight enough...] SR: And he reversed it!  That tough little SOB reversed the move! TD: And Ike Sampson is in trouble now, as Tony Starks has just applied... has just LOCKED the Katha Jime on Ike! SR: Woo-hoo!  Ike's feelin' a bit of Brotha-ly love! [Sampson flails about, but Starks falls to the mat with Ike in the Katha Jime, the referee diving to the mat to check for a submission... then jumping to his feet and waving at the timekeeper to ring the bell!] TD: He got him! RA: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match, as a result of a submission... TONY STARKS! SR: Woo-hoo!  Right on, Tony, my man!  Ummm... Tony, you can let go now. Tony? [The referee is attempting to raise Starks' hand in victory, but Starks is having nothing of it.  There is a wild look in his eye as he refuses, once again, to break the hold, regardless of the referee's prompting. Ike Sampson is starting to turn a rather discomforting shade of blue, and after a few seconds the other officials hit the ring, but none are able to remove Starks from his opponent's back.  Suddenly, the referee points to the timekeeper, waving his finger in a circle and prompting yet another announcement.] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, as a result of Tony Starks refusing to cooperate with the officials, the decision has been reversed!  The winner of the match, as a result of a reversed decision... IKE SAMPSON! SR: I thought the only way he could win was by submission?  I don't remember seeing Starks submit. TD: This is a very bad situation we have here, folks.  Tony Starks has apparently snapped completely, and is refusing to break the hold.  Ike Sampson has been in that chokehold for over a minute now and... [Dross' words are drowned out by the crowd's shouting as a figure races out of the locker area and down to the ring.  He has long blond hair and white wrestling tights, and the picture of a longsword on the left leg can be seen as he sprints down the aisle.] TD: And Kevin Christiansen has hit the ring!  The Cavalier is in the ring and... SR: I'll be damned.  He just bodily pulled Starks off of Sampson! [In the ring, the officials swarm around Ike Sampson, trying to get him out of harm's way as Kevin "The Cavalier" Christiansen shouts down Tony Starks.  Suddenly, Starks lashes out with a right hand, catching Christiansen in the jaw and staggering him... and the Cavalier fires back!  Both men start exchanging blows, with Starks at one point being knocked from the ring, but then slamming the chair at ringside into the Cavalier as he follows him out.  Punch after punch is thrown, and the two brawl the entire way back up the aisle and back into the locker area, while the referees in the ringside area tend to Ike Sampson and assist him to the back.] TD: Well, it's a victory here for Ike Sampson -- albeit not one of the kind he would have liked. Tony Starks is simply ruthless... and thank goodness for Kevin Christiansen, coming out of the back and saving Sampson from severe injury. SR: Aw, screw the Cavalier, Dross. Last thing we need is some good guy running around breaking up vicious, unnecessary attacks. The Soundbite's got needs, baby dolls! Needs! [Sampson manages to raise his arm in the air to a big pop from the crowd as he groggily heads up the ring, shrugging off the help of the officials. He receives a big ovation as he disappears behind the curtain at the head of the aisle under his own steam. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: We're now almost through the first hour of Ring Wars IV, Steve     Roberts, and if it's possible this thing is going to heat up even     more! We have our first title match of the night coming up... SR: Hasn't there been enough Canadian on Canadian violence, Dross? TD: I'm not sure I want to know where you're going with that one. Derek     Mota will be defending his Cruiserweight Title against a man who, pardon the pun, had really seen his career blast off in the past few weeks, Timothy N. Turner. SR: That was bad, Dross, even for you. I think I need a drink. TD: You can't just get up and go for a beer in the middle of a Pay     Per View broadcast! SR: Hmm? Oh, I was just going to take a sip of water from my canteen, but that beer idea sounds good. Back in a few. [With that, Roberts gets up quickly and in one motion takes off his headset. With the speed of someone who's obviously ducked out of some pretty awkward situations to get a beer, Roberts has disappeared, last seem heading in the general direction of a vendor. Dross has no time to complain before he's left alone.] TD: Well I... that is to say... it seems like Steve Roberts may be     missing in action for a few moments while he "taps the Rockies", so     we'll just have to go on without him. Sparky, you have the honours. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|................................................... | || | \ v v / | __| IIWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Derek Mota [c] vs. Timothy N. Turner ........................................................................ WRITER: JdW [Cut to the ring, where Sparkplug has apparently heard his cue for a change. He gives a thumbs up to Dross, and then jumps into his work with the passion of a man about to get a week's vacation.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with _no_ time limit, and it is for the IIWF Cruiserweight Title! [Massive pop, registering about 3.2 on the Richter scale.] I was scheduled for one fall once... best weekend of my life. [The fans respond very well to Sparky's improvising to fill the "Soundbite Gap", starting an instantaneous "Sparky Rocks!" chant. That's pretty impressive when 100,000 people are doing it.] TD: Good grief! SL: Introducing first, hailing from Toronto and weighing in at 224     pounds, he is your IIWF Cruiserweight Champion of the World... the     "Heatseeker" Derek Mota! [Pantera's "Great Southern Trendkill" kicks in, but for a change it sounds oddly quiet as compared to the screaming fans. Mota's receiving a mixed reaction from the LA fans, some cheering and some booing but all making noise. Even the usually cocky Mota seems a bit affected by it all as he brushes the hair from his face, trying to keep a poker face on.] TD: This man really has set himself above the Cruiserweight crop lately,     and that's why he wears the gold belt you see around his waist right     now, folks. Certainly appearing in front of this many people must be     unnerving even for a veteran, but that works both ways. [Dross stops chattering in disappointment, almost as if he misses someone poking fun and disagreeing with him. Mota heads right to a corner to limber up, pausing only to unstrap his title and hand it carefully to the ring attendant... who goes to give it to the as yet unseen official. Unseen because he was sitting in the front row, his person obscured from view by larger fans. Lee turns to notice a diminutive Mexican man being handed the title, and doesn't seem too disturbed by it.] SL: Allow me to introduce the official for this match, Hugo Hugo! [Respectable pop as the world's smallest referee enters the ring, clutching the title.] And now, to introduce the challenger, hailing from Victoria, British Colombia, at a weight of 230 pounds... Timothy N. Turner! [A little bit of a flashback, as Tony Bennett's "The Good Life" starts to play, and Turner walks out sans jet pack paraphenalia. Instead he's wearing a terribly ornate robe, with sequins and fur sticking out all over the place. TNT is written in calligraphic letters on the back, and overall his costume looks either elegant or garish, depending on your point of view. Turner is sauntering more than walking to the ring, soaking up the atmosphere and for a change actually getting some fan support, despite the fact that many fans are disappointed not to see the jet pack. Suddenly, as Turner has made it about half way into the aisle, he turns around and beckons to some unseen persons backstage, and then motions to Sparky.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, accompanying Tim Turner to the ring are     Victoria, Britanny, Constance, Candice, and Ruthanne... the Von Edwards sisters! [With that, five beautiful young women who fit the term "Southern belle" to a tee walk out into the ring, all smiles as is Turner. We understand Turner's jubiliation, and we also like the way he does match. Five plus one equals fun, as they say.] TD: How about that? Tim Turner is determined to make a big entrance here, and I think he has what with bringing these five gorgeous women to the ring with him. [At this point, a familiar voice chimes in.] SR: Did someone say five gorgeous women? TD: Welcome back, Steve Roberts. Somehow I knew if anything would bring     you back, it'd be of the feminine persuasion. How was the trip? SR: Awful! What kind of a place are they running here, they don't even     sell Mooselips Ice! I had to get some of this generic Mexican pi- TD: [hurredly cutting in] Turner sees those five ladies to ringside seats which have been thoughtfully provided... you have to figure part of this is designed to psyche out Mota, sort of like icing a kicker in football. [Turner finally rolls under the bottom rope to enter the ring, getting up just in time to see Hugo raise the belt into the air, or at least as close to the air as he can get it. Both men are looking on with clear desire in their eyes, greedly staring at the ultimate prize for cruisers. Hugo lowers the belt, preparing to hand it off into safe-keeping, so Turner proceeds to disrobe... revealing the "Rocketman" tights and the jet pack itself, strapped to his back! Big pop from all involved except Mota, who begins to protest loudly to HH. Turner then points to one of the sets of turnbuckles, which is apparently the cue to set off a series of fireworks, shooting up into the sky from each corner.] SR: TNT knows how to play the mind games, Drossy! He's the other crazy     Canadian bastard! TD: Yes, well... oh my, he just jumped Mota from behind! This match is     underway! [Still wearing the jet pack, Turner's pounced while the champ was preoccupied with all the hoopla, and has started to wail away on his back. With Mota stunned from the early assault, Turner has time to struggle with the straps, trying to take the jet pack off. Finally he's got it free, but by now Mota is more aware and he just fires with a thrust kick, hitting the pack dead-on and driving it into TNT's face! The pack skitters towards a corner where an alert ring attendant removes it, while Mota moves towards the fallen challenger only to be intercepted by referee Hugo, who's threatening disqualification. Mota ignores the warnings with some difficulty and hauls Turner back to his feet, proceeding to whip him back first into a corner. He charges afterwards and nails a jumping splash that has Turner stumbling around, trying to regain his balance. Mota grabs hold again and sends Turner careening to the other corner, but doesn't charge right away. Tim thinks he is charging, so he grabs Hugo out of instinct and pulls him into the way of where he thinks the impact is coming. Bad move, as Hugo takes matters into his own hands by spinning around and smacking Turner with a backhand!] SR: Hey, that's unfair! Isn't there some kind of referee bias involved in slapping one of the wrestlers silly? TD: He got what was coming to him for pulling a cheap stunt like that. SR: It doesn't matter _how_ you stop a guy from connecting, only that you do. [Turner's really hamming it up, holding his check and screaming his lungs out at the mini-Mexican. Hugo's prepared to yell right back, and with such authourity that Turner backs up... backs up right into the corner and starts shrinking down, trying to cover up!] TD: What a coward. SR: You're not allowed to hit an official, right? So why bother with 'em     at all? Just pretend to agree with them and cheat when they aren't     looking anyway. TD: It's people like you that make me think we need a second referee for     most matches. [Meanwhile, back in the ring... Turner's finally got back up from his chewing out, only to be dropped on his can by a Mota right hand as soon as he turns to face him. Turner goes with the momentum, rolling out under the bottom rope to the floor, and as he does he's trying to call a timeout the whole way. Mota doesn't acknowledge the timeout, of course, as he's busy getting up momentum to try for a plancha. Turner continues to call for time, apparently confused by the setting and thinking he's at a football game, but instinct takes over as he sees Mota flying at him. The Victorian ducks, allowing the champ to fly overhead and into the security railing, knocking it somewhat askew. Mota lands in a heap, not looking in too good shape as a few fans near ringside scramble to stay out of the way. Fortunately, the Von Edwards girls are on the other side of the ring.] TD: That looked like a very nasty fall taken by Derek Mota, and we could     be seeing a turning point of the match here. SR: Three words: What... a... bump! [TNT gets up rather quickly and heads straight for Mota, knowing an opportunity when he sees it. He whips Mota straight towards the ring post, and the champ must be out of it a bit as he's making no move to defend himself. WHACK! Mota bounces off the steel to the floor, prompting TNT to flash a thumbs up to the Von Edwards sisters, who giggle in the way only debutantes can. He then moves in to pick up Mota and rolls him back into the ring just as Hugo's count has reached "Eight!". Turner jumps out to the apron himself, and then leaps again to the top rope before coming off with a big splash! Turner covers, attempting to be the new champ...] TD: We have one... two... and a kickout! SR: You don't pin Mota that easily, Dross. He's like the national debt,     you can never get rid of him. [Only a bit frustrated, Turner quickly whips the champ to the ropes, preparing for his arrival. TNT's a bit cocky about it, though, so he pays when his hip toss is blocked, and Mota rolls him over in a funky armdrag type move that must have roots in the Greco-Roman style. He holds on only briefly to an armbar before hooking up the Western challenger's leg and driving back... into a Russian legsweep! No cover from the champ, who instead goes to the outside. Mota seems a man possessed as he heads right towards Tim's five lovely ladyfriends, each of whom seem more than a bit concerned with his intentions. He stares intently for a split second, then says only "Get up!" They all do without thinking, and he starts to grab their folding chairs, hurling whatever he has his hands on at the time as he does towards the ring. TNT by now has made it to his feet, but when he sees flying steel chairs he heads for the relative safety of the timekeeper's table. The chairs continue to fly into the ring, one by one, until Hugo steps up and grabs one of them, inforcing the law by throwing it right back at Mota!] SR: What the hell is this guy on? And where can I get some? TD: Hugo Hugo is a proud man, he won't take anything from anyone, and     he'll occasionally take the rules into his own hands. It's good to see the wrestlers get a taste of their own medecine for a change. SR: Maybe you could do an in-depth interview on him too. TD: That's right, recently I conducted an interview with Tim Turner, his     brother Tom and longtime partner Akira Saito, collectively the     Northpac Coalition. Check your local listings. [Fortunately, it doesn't seem as if anyone's been hurt by the chairs, so Mota just gives it up and re-enters the ring about as Turner is doing the same. The two charge from opposite ends of the ring towards an inevitable collision in the middle, but TNT gets the idea of flying in with a spin kick. Mota gets the even better idea of ducking, so both men keep going with their momentum for a second pass. This time, Mota takes the intiative by flying off the ropes with a forearm that... that connects, smashing Turner in the mush and dropping him to the mat. Derek stays right on the job, dropping first one quick elbow, hitting, then firing a second in.] SR: You know, yesterday was the eightieth anniversary of the Bolshevik Revolution. TD: Is that relevant to the match? SR: I dunno, just felt like mentionning it. TD: Who ever heard of Bolsheviks in pro-wrestling anyway? [Mota's heading up to the top, apparently not interested in a revolution of the proletariat enough to stop trying to retain his title. With all his usual dexterity he gets to the top rope and flies off, barely taking time to aim as he's backflipping through the air into a tremendous summersault splash! A cover is made, and Hugo energetically dives into place to count: 1...2... kickout by Turner! TNT somehow gets a shoulder just up, so Mota hauls him up by the scruff of his neck only to be waylaid by a Golota-like blow. Hugo missed the shot, even though it's at his eye level, so Mota just slumps to the mat and Turner struts around the ring, satisified with himself.] TD: One has to wonder what Tim's brother, Constable Tom Turner, would     think about such blatant cheating. SR: He's not a Mountie. TD: I knew that. [Finally deciding to get back to work, TNT grabs Mota's legs as if setting up for a Boston crab, but then out of nowhere just drives his head down! Mota's in pain and every man in the zip code lets out a groan. You've never heard so much sympathy pain. TNT then starts dragging the champ towards the corner, knowing he won't put up much fight. He slides under the bottom rope, keeping a hold of one leg, and pulls Mota into position, straddling the ringpost. A fan yells out his name, so Tim turns to show off for a moment, and that's a moment longer than you should ever lose your concentration in a title match. Mota capitalizes, pulling his legs sharply in, the momentum of which drives Turner face first into the post! Mota gets up a bit gingerly, starting to pull his way back to the top rope. Turner, meanwhile, grasps at his face on the floor, obviously concerned he might have messed up his attractive features.] SR: What's he gonna try from up top, Dross? TD: Derek Mota takes chances like no one else... remember that match     against Billy Shakespeare when... SR: [butting in] Is Blitzsphere still with the promotion, Dross? [Mota's taking a bit more time this go around to steady himself on the top buckle, facing outward. Turner, meanwhile, is finally starting to stir, but he's turned arpund the wrong way and can't see what Mota's doing as he's getting up. The champ for his part times the jump, then flies off into a summersault... Turner oblivious until he hears about 100,000 people collectively hold their breath... Huge pop!] TD: I don't believe it, a summersault into a flying bulldog! I don't     think I've ever seen that move done before, and it was devastating! SR: Actually, there's a guy in a hick promotion up in Canada who uses     it... makes sense for Mota to pick it up, that promotion is run out     of Toronto and he lives there. TD: Wherever it comes from, it's effective! Both men are out cold on the     concrete! [Hugo again gets to prove the value of the Mexican educational system by counting to ten, while neither title hopeful moves for the moment. Finally, Mota starts to stir, his fall having been somewhat broken by Turner. He shakes his head out to clear the cobwebs, then picks up Turner into a suplex position, changing the momentum somewhat by slingshotting him off the ropes. By now, the fans recognize a Body Plex and start to mark out, especially when they realize that Turner may get dumped on the Spanish announce table if Mota leans into it. He does. Papers go flying, a monitor topples to the ground and is smashed, and a rotund Hispanic man dives out of the way, followed by a man looking quite familiar, as if he were a former IIWF star whose name we just can't think of. The table cracks a bit, but does not break as Mota takes no time to admire his handiwork before scrambling into the ring to break the count.] TD: Do you believe it, Steve Roberts? Do you believe the intensity, the     insanity of this match? SR: Hey, folks... I get paid to watch this! And you spent $29.95! TD: Now, for under thirty dollars the fans are seeing fourteen great matches, I think that's a fair price. SR: You don't have to keep selling the show, it's too late for anyone     else to order it. TD: What about the encore presentation? Wait, Mota is going right back     upstairs, he's going to try and put Turner through that table if it     kills both of them! [Indeed, Mota's drawing a huge reaction for yet another chance at going up top. Turner still hasn't done anything more than moan, so Derek leaps off with an elbowdrop, flying straight and true like a missile towards the target. Unfortunately, live targets occasionally move, as Turner does by rolling off the table to the ground. Mota's still flying, unable to stop, unable to redirect. He hits the table with a sickening thud, then a loud crack. The table collapses about him, sending debris flying in every direction. The front row fans all are forced to duck as a headset skitters towards them. It's now Mota's turn to lay motionless, while Turner lies somewhat less motionless.] SR: This match has everything, Dross! Broken tables, jet packs, five     incredible women... I think I even see a small cut on Mota's head,     Dross. I think I see the red stuff! TD: Only in the IIWF will you see this kind of a war, this kind of animosity. SR: Well, maybe also at a Clinton-Jiang trade meeting. Anyone wanna put     that match together, President vs President in a steel cage barbed wire exploding baseball bat thumbtack of death flag match? All cabinet ministers barred from ringside? No countouts, no dq's, loser faces trade sanctions? TD: Bill takes it easy on interference from Hillary. [The only action going on now is Hugo Hugo's count, as the crowd looks on to see if anyone can make it. The count's already made it up to five, with Turner finally showing some signs of life by crawling back towards the ring. Meanwhile, Dross and Roberts are reliving a scene from the Simpsons by arguing over who the greatest British Prime Minister of all time was, so even they can't distract from the drama. Turner slowly pulls himself up and towards the ring as the count goes on... six... seven... eight... he's in! Suddenly, however, a flash of realization crosses his face, and he dives right back out to break the count.] TD: That's a smart move by Turner, he cannot win the title on a countout. SR: You're an idiot. TD: What are you talking about? The rules clearly state you must win a     title by pinfall or submission. SR: No, I mean the other thing. William Pitt the Elder, my ass! [A still somewhat groggy Turner goes out to recover the champ, who's just barely shaking his head to signify he has any idea what's going on. Turner picks up his limp body and, like a riot policeman dragging away a protester, pulls Mota bit by bit to the ring. Finally at about seven, he throws Toronto's favourite son into the ring and follows him in. Assuming a pin would be easy now, Turner makes a lazy cover for: 1 - 2 - huge pop as Mota kicks out! Unbelieving, Turner jaws off at Hugo for a moment before turning back to Mota, who's getting to his feet. A chop slows down the champ's advance, and then TNT tries whipping Mota to the corner. The ever resilient Mota reverses, and TNT goes careening towards the corner... and Hugo Hugo.] SR: Referee down! More than usual, that is. TD: This could get ugly. We had fifteen minutes of insanity _with_ an offical, what will we have without one? [Turner stumbles out of the corner, realizing he's knocked the ref out, so he pays more attention to that then Mota. Derek makes him pay for it, jumping up as high as he can and latching around Turner's neck with his legs... twisting back into a hurricarana! Mota declines holding on to cover, instead heading to the outside and making a beeline for the ring attendant who so long ago took Turner's jet pack. The smallish man is no match for an angry Derek Mota, so he makes little effort to stop him from taking the pack and heading back towards the ring. Turner sees it coming by now, but is too far away to do anything as Mota rolls into the ring with his possession. He charges anyway, so Mota drops the pack and levels him with a boot to the jaw. He then sets the pack up hastily in position, and yanks Turner over it, driving TNT's head between his legs.] SR: Uh-oh... Mota's gonna take Turner to school! Here comes an underhook... and the other arm... we're gonna see a Skullpump onto the jet pack! TD: Actually, it's funny you'd mention Mota going to school, because his     home province of Ontario is in the midst of the largest teachers' strike in North American history. SR: Oh, shut up. TD: Here comes that Skullpump and... he connects! Turner's head has     dented his own jetpack, and he has to be out cold! [Massive chants of "Skull-Pump" start up throught the crowd, showing that although Steve Kowalski is gone he's not forgotten. Mota moves over the absolutely cold-cocked Turner and covers, waiting for Hugo to get back up and into position.] SR: All we have to do now is wait for the midget to wake up, and this     thing's over. Successful defense. TD: It might already be considered succesful... Turner's been covered for three... four... five seconds and counting. [Hugo's finally starting to show a bit of motion, as he crawls towards the pin position. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he's ready to start a count: One... Two... did Turner just open his eyes?... Thr- wait, Turner, on instinct, grabs Hugo and yanks his ankle, breaking the count! Mota gets up, livid, and yells at the top of his lungs for a dq as the ref gets back to his feet. The champ then turns around to see TNT trying to stand up, so he grabs a handfull of hair and starts yanking upwards. Turner sees a chance, maybe his last, and cradles with all the strength he was left. The crowd collectively gasp, and Hugo goes down to count yet again. One... Two... can he hold it?... THREE! Ding! Ding! Ding!] SR: Un-be-freakin'-leavable! TD: New champion! New champion! We have a new champion! [Sparky, as surprised as the rest of us with the flash pin, gets up quickly to make it official.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this bout, and NEW IIWF     Cruiserweight Champion... Timothy N. Turner! [The LA Coliseum lets out a pop the likes of which have never been heard before, and won't be heard again until at least the Byron-Verhoeven match. Some thoughtful soul turns on Elton John's "Rocketman" as fireworks go off from every concievable direction. Hugo Hugo walks up to a battered but happy Turner and presents him with the title in one hand, his dinged jet pack in the other. Turner then smiles to his five ladies, and straps first the title on, then moves into getting the jet pack on. Mota hasn't moved through all this, as he stares at the mat in total disbelief, finally just rolling out of the ring and starting up the aisle, as disgusted as he's ever been.] TD: Is the IIWF ready for Timothy N. Turner's reign? SR: Maybe yes, maybe no, but it's gonna be one hell of a ride! [Speaking of a hell of a ride, Turner flips the switch to turn on his pack, and is relieved to find out it's still working. He starts slowly, gliding towards the adoring Von Edwards girls, and he holds each arm out as he's approaching them. The arms as soon filled, as the girls scramble to be the first to meet him. Victoria and Candice get the honours, each being scooped up in his arms as he slowly, then speeding up a bit rises into the cloudless sky, tens of thousands of screaming fans chanting "TNT!".] SR: You said this guy knew how to make an entrance... well, he's not too     bad on exits either. TD: Anything clever to say as Turner flies off into the sunset with two     lovely ladies? SR: Yes, two things. Number one, that jet pack is what's known in Greek     drama as a "deus ex machina", or machine of the gods. Many Greek plays would end with a character fining salvation from a machine from the sky... look at Woody Allen's "Mighty Aprhodite" and the helicopter that picks up Mira Sorvino at the end for further reference. TD: What's number two, oh, wise one? SR: Remember, say "hi" to a vet if you can this week. The official Soundbite message for the off week is "Lest we Forget". TD: Well, an unusually thoughtful and respectful Steve Roberts, ladies     and gents. Ready for hour two? SR: You line 'em up, I'll knock 'em down. TD: Folks, we'll be right back with the World Tag Team Championship match, the final match of Requiem's career against the Blind Guardian, Billy Shakespeare and Ronnie Paris in that three falls encounter -- and that huge, huge barbed wire match. All that coming up in the second hour of this spectacular event! Don't go away! [Cut to a wide-angle shot of the stadium as spotlights probe the sky, which is now beginning to darken a little. The IIWF blimp circles slowly overhead. 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+