[Fade up on monochrome footage captioned, "IIWF Saturday Night, 4 October 1997." Brody Thunder has just won the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship from Requiem, and stands united in the ring with his allies, Casey James, Tiger Claw, and Steve "the Fury" Kowalski. Suddenly, Thunder turns on Steve Kowalski, and blasts the fury with a hard clothesline, rocking the stunned New Jersey Nightmare. In a flash, Thunder, Claw and the masked man are beating viciously on the Fury, while the crowd looks on in shock! The original soundtrack crackles in over the footage:] TD: What?! What in hell's name is going on here?! SR: Those sons of bitches! They double-crossed the Fury! They set him up, Dross! I got to go in there and help him out! TD: You stay right where you are -- these men are like a pack of dogs! They have turned on Steve Kowalski... this was all just a huge set-up! Thunder has played that man like a violin, Steve Roberts... This is unbelievable! [Thunder lays the gold belt on the canvas, and then grabs the woozy Steve Kowalski, kicks him in the gut, doubling him over -- and then hits a vicious Cattle Buster DDT right onto the World Championship belt! Kowalski's head bounces back off the hard metal, and he appears to have been busted open. Thunder stomps on Kowalski's bleeding forehead, attempting to open up the wound further. The trio drag Kowalski to his feet again, Thunder holding him in place -- and Claw hits him with a vicious reverse crescent kick, catching him flush under the jaw! Meanwhile, the man dressed as the Masked Outlaw has gone to the outside and grabbed the steel chair Kowalski was using to beat on the Highwayman, and returns to the ring.] TD: Casey James now, with that chair... Kowalski is bleeding, he's hurt bad, Steve Roberts. I cannot believe what we are seeing! SR: I can't believe the Fury fell for this, Dross! He's getting beaten like an animal in there! [The Masked Man whacks Kowalski repeatedly with the chair -- on the back, forcing Kowalski down to his knees, again on the back, laying him out on the canvas. Kowalski battles back to his knees, trying to fight back to his feet -- and is clobbered over the head again with the steel chair. His eyes roll back in his head as he slumps back to the canvas, blood pouring from the nasty gash on his forehead. Claw, Thunder and Casey brutally kick Kowalski to the edge of the ring, and out to the arena floor.] TD: That looked bad, Steve Roberts -- I think the Fury may have suffered a severe head trauma in that attack... he is out! And these three men are absolutely gorging themselves on their heinous actions! [The screen flashes as if struck by lightning, and the crack of thunder is heard. The shot now depicts Steve Kowalski being helped to the back after the broadcast that fateful night had gone off the air. A voice over plays above the footage:] VO: The first strike took him down. [Thunder and lightning crashes once more, and the shot now depicts the chaos after Brody Thunder's match against the "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin, captioned, "IIWF Ring Wars IV, 8 November 1997". The ring is full of wrestlers, a huge brawl having erupted around ringside. Again, the original soundtrack is heard:] TD: Good grief! We have utter chaos here, Steve Roberts -- the ring is slowly emptying... Deathbringer and Otto Verhoeven have taken their fight to the outside... Hardin and Quigley are still going at it... they're leaving the ring... they're leaving Thunder in the ring. Whoa! [Suddenly, the lights in the arena go out, and only the occasional momentary illumination from nearby camera flashes, instananeous sparkles of light flickering around the huge one hundred thousand strong crowd, provide any clue as to what is going on... the brawls continue around the ringside area... in the aisle... And then comes the huge pop as the lights rise once more, to reveal...] TD: STEVE "THE FURY" KOWALSKI! SR: Hot damn, Dross! It's the Fury! TD: It's Kowalski -- and he has Thunder... oh my! [As the lights rise once more, the figure of the New Jersey Nightmare, Steve "the Fury" Kowalski, is revealed in the ring, standing with Brody Thunder's head between his legs, and both arms hooked, hooked in preparation... Kowalski jumps into the air, and sits down sharply, driving Thunder's head into the mat with a...] TD & SR: SKULLPUMP! [Huge, huge pop! Even those brawling around the ring pause as they hear the crash of Thunder's head hitting the canvas, Kowalski standing and raising his arms to the crowd, who greet him with a near ecstatic reaction!] SR: The Fury is back! Whoo-hoo! TD: Hang on -- Kowalski has a microphone... the brawls continue on the outside... this is just chaos. The Fury has a microphone, folks. [Kowalski grins as "Don't Fear the Reaper" kicks in over the loud speaker. As the crowd of wrestlers around the ring stand stunned, the New Jersey Nightmare, backs up and rolls out of the ring. Kowalski makes his way up the aisle, brandishing a cordless microphone:] SK: Did ya think I was dead? Did ya think Brody was man 'nuff to take me out? I don't [BLEEP]in' think so! I just wanted to tell everyone that I'm back... back fer my belt... back fer some SKULLPUMPIN'... back fer _ya_, Brody! So when ya wake up an' ask what happened to ya... _I_ happened. It's time to pay, Cowpoker. Ya know why? 'Cause hell hath no... [Kowalski doesn't have to finish his statement, as the berserk crowd does. Chanting "FURY! FURY! FURY!" over and over. Thunder is left lying in the ring as Kowalski backs up the aisle, cockily waving to the wrestlers left in his wake around ringside. The shot freezes on a shot of Kowalski retreating up the aisle, a grin on his face. Again comes the voice over:] VO: But that first strike did not take him out. [The screen again explodes as if hit by lightning, and now the shot depicts the various conflicts that have occurred since Ring Wars IV between the IIWF World Heavyweight Champion, Brody Thunder, and Steve Kowalski: Kowalski costing Thunder the Champion vs. Champion vs. Champion Triangle match; Thunder and Kowalski battering one another at the Contract Signing for Snow Brawl; Thunder, disguised as Santa Claus, smashing a candy cane over Kowalski's head, revealing that the cane was in fact a candy-coated crowbar.] VO: The war between Brody Thunder and Steve Kowalski is just beginning. [The screen flashes, and then footage of Steve Kowalski's two inconclusive matches with Serge Annis erupts into view, cutting between many of the more brutal moments from the encounters: the Skullpump on the announcers' table, slams onto the railings, barbed wire steel chairs, each man's head running with blood...] VO: But now comes a man -- by his own admission, _the_ man -- who has the power to change the battlefield... forever. [Cut to footage captioned, "IIWF Saturday Night, Last Week". It is the climax of the No Disqualification bout between Steve Kowalski and Serge Annis. Kowalski batters Annis unmercifully, the table leg breaking clean over the head of Serge.  Kowalski tosses away the shards of splintered wood, reaching over into the crowd to grab a chair... and throwing it directly to the face of Annis! Kowalski grabs a second chair... and throws... and a third... and a fourth... and Steve Kowalski is a man possessed!  The crowd roaring their approval as Steve Kowalski begins peppering Serge Annis with every chair in the building!] TD: This place has gone nuts!  Steve Kowalski has thrown ten, fifteen... look at all those chairs!  Steve Kowalski is burying Serge Annis under every chair in the IIWF Coliseum!  Oh My God -- it's Annis!! [Serge roars back, literally roars back, diving through the hailstorm of chairs to a crossbody of the Fury... Annis and Kowalski crashing into the retaining barrier... and toppling it over!  The barrier falls over and the IIWF fans crumble to the floor!  The fans begin streaming out to ringside, the chants of "I-I-W-F... I-I-W-F...I-I-W-F..." roaring through the night as security hits ringside. Fans have gotten into the ring... fans are grabbing at the broadcasters...] SR: Hey, Hey, leave my buddy Dross alone!  Hey, Hey... I'll kick your mother... TD: We've got chaos!  We've got absolute, absolute chaos!  Steve Roberts, sit down!  Steve Roberts... is swatting away fans... Where the hell are Annis and Kowalski?! Where the hell are Annis and Kowalski!! [Joey Patrick calls for the bell -- Ding! Ding! Ding! -- brown shirted IIWF security forces stream forward from all four corners of the building, driving the fans back. An enormous roar goes up as Annis and Kowalski are spotted in the second deck, each throwing wild lefts and rights... security now coming to break them up as the bell -- Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! -- continues to ring and Sparkplug Lee takes the mic.] SL: The referee has counted _BOTH MEN_ out the ring. This match is officially ruled... A DRAW!  A DRAW! [The "boos" then begin to fill the Coliseum, both because a number of fans are being led from the building and that the match has been stopped. Cut finally to a composite image of Thunder, Kowalski and Annis, standing as if they were the three points of a triangle, the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship between them.] VO: Three men. Two rivalries. One championship. One match -- tonight, _live_, on... [The crack of thunder is heard one last time as the screen is engulfed in the bright flash of lightning, clearing to reveal the opening graphics:] ________ ______ __ ____ ___ __ . _ ___ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| / /\ | | || \| \ /\ \ / |\ || / \| | | | || | \ v v / | __| \__ /__\ | | ||__/| |/__\ v | \||| __|-| | |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| \ \| v | \|__/ \| | || \_|| | | __________________________/...hour one...\........|...|.......|....| LIVE! IIWF Coliseum, Portland, Oregon 27 December 1997 [The opening graphics fade through to interior shots of the familiar IIWF Coliseum, the twenty thousand strong crowd as excited as ever to witness live IIWF action. Cameras flash all over the arena, from the floor to the mezzanine, with such rapidity as to almost create a strobe effect, briefly illuminating one area of fans, then another, then another... In the midst of the darkness is the beacon of the ring area, a huge rigging erected over the squared circle, many coloured spotlights spinning over the crowd and the canvas. Suddenly, the Coliseum itself seems to shake as huge volleys of pyrotechnics erupt in the rafters, rockets streaming up to the rafters from the head of the aisle. The crowd is now brought alive, the fans shouting their approval as showers of sparks fly as a path of fireworks explodes in turn down the aisle, finally reaching the ringside area -- and the four ringposts are together seemingly ablaze as brilliant white flame shoots up from each corner! As the smoke in the ringside area clears, the voice of Tim Dross is heard over this footage:] TD: Welcome everybody to Portland, Oregon! Welcome to the home of the world's hottest wrestling organisation! Welcome to the IIWF Coliseum! We are coming at you live and loud with another action-packed edition of IIWF Saturday Night -- and here comes Ronnie Paris! [The shot continues to pan past row upon row of fans, many waving signs and bedecked in IIWF merchandise, eventually coming to rest on the aisle, as "Simply the Best" by Tina Turner kicks in over the PA. Ronnie Paris walks into the aisle in street clothes. He wears a pair of loose fitting black jeans, a denim jacket under which the ever-present "Property of the Soundbite Special Forces" shirt can be seen, a pair of dark sunglasses and a subdued Western style hat. As soon as he's made it into the aisle, of course, he begins to be booed, especially with chants of "Ronnie Sucks!" Paris ignores the fans largely as he walks slowly towards the ring, and without the presence of his security guards. For the moment, he seems to be in "serious mode", not cracking insults at his detractors as usual and more emotionally focused than we've seen him in weeks. Finally, he's made it to the ring, and rolls in under the bottom rope to find that a thoughtful ring attendant has left a mic lying in the middle of the ring. Upon getting up, Paris strides over to pick it up, still not indulging any of the fans' taunts.] TD: [over headset] An unusually calm Ronnie Paris... he must have something important to say. SR: [over headset] They wouldn't give him interview time otherwise. It's called ratings. With the exception of any tag match or Quigley appearance, we don't air crap in the IIWF. [Paris raises the mic to mouth level, tapping it a few times with his free hand to make sure it's "live". There is feedback, and thus assured he begins to speak, not even having removed his shades.] RP: Hello, Portland. Hello, TV-Land. As you all well know, I've been     having somewhat of a, I suppose you'd say difference of opinions with Takezo Musashi lately. Well, before I get into anything else, let me just say this: if I have said or done anything to offend any of the fans out there, or Takezo himself... I meant every damn word! [Paris breaks out in a wide grin and runs a hand casually through his hair as the boos start to rain down, his "apology" apparently very not convincing. He looks over to Steve Roberts, who gives the fellow Texan a thumbs up, and turns back to the section of the crowd he'd previously been facing to continue.] RP: You know, some people ask me how I can, and I quote, "hide behind     hired goons," and still respect myself. Well, they way I look at it, I'm not hiding from anything, I'm just saving myself an inconvenience. I mean, sure, the manager of a K-Mart probably could kick your delinquent son's ass when he steals a slotted screwdriver, but why would he bother wasting his time on trash like the kids of IIWF fans? [LOUD, loud boos.] RP: The same thing applies to me. Why would a wrestler of my calibre     waste time with a martial artist wannabe like the Enigma? Quite simply, I have so much God-given talent as a wrestler I'd start to lose skills just by wasting the time pounding him into the canvas! So, I get a few cadets to do it, put them through some basic training... I tell ya, those guys are gonna be good wrestlers some day. You just see, they'll rank right up there with the Bradley Reeds... am I allowed to mention his name anymore? Oh well, like I care. The worst they could do is fire me.     But enough for now about the Enigma. The real mystery is why anyone     would give a damn about him. I'd like to talk about the guy who     somehow thinks he ranks close enough to my level to meddle in my     business... Chris Stonebreaker. The Aging Cajun. Chris, I gave you the best Christmas present I could think of, and that's not sending your ass home in a sling for meddling with Ronnie Paris' business. Please, man, don't make me return that gift. [Finally figuring out how to rag on Paris, the guys in the nosebleed seats have started a chant of "Where's Your Cab?" that seems to be catching on. Paris is getting quite annoyed by it, hopping around in every direction to yell at fans to shut up. This, of course, makes them louder.] RP: You know, I almost forgot to talk about this hokey ladder match I'm     signed up for at Snow Brawl. The thing I like about it is that finally, _finally_ someone in the Towers sees my potential to be up around the main event level. Hell, second match announced for the card... that ain't bad. I'm thankful. But, and like my pal Dross out there this is a big _but_, a ladder match? Do you have any idea how bullshit ladder matches are? Firstly, they don't prove anything. Secondly, having to wrestle Musashi all the time is going to have a bad influence, all that suck is going to rub off. And another thing... [Paris stops in mid-sentence as, out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement from the front row. As he and the camera look that way, we see a man in his early fifties, but still in fairly good shape, making his way through the crowd and towards the ring. The man wears fairly generic suit and tie type clothing and has sandy brown hair which is cut short, probably to make the beginnings of his baldness less noticeable. He looks vaguely familiar.] TD: [over headset] Do you recognize that man, Steve? SR: [over headset] You can't have grown up a wrestling fan in Texas and     not recognize him... it's Kevin Paris. That's Ronnie's father! [Ronnie looks at his father in astonishment as he enters the ring, holding a mic of his own. The fans fall quiet, some as they recognize who the elder Paris is and some to find out who he is. The patriarch points a finger right at his youngest son as he begins to speak.] KP: Ronnie, I've been watching you for the last couple of months and the     direction you've been taking. All of it leads me to just one     conclusion... You're above this! [Loud pop, as more fans are recognizing Ronnie's father. Ron tries to speak, but is still somewhat shocked to see his dad there and can only squeze out a stammering voice.] RP: But Dad... KP: [interrupting] Don't say anything. I need to talk to you, and you're just going to stand there and listen. You see, I've been watching you here in the IIWF and the way you've handled this Musashi feud, and I don't like it. You're at the same career crossroads both your brothers were at, but they went a different way. The right way. The Paris way.     Let me tell you what the Paris name means. It's a legacy. It means     you get a guy who works his rear off, a guy who refuses to take     shortcuts, a guy who's never done anything _but_ put in an honest day's work. You get a guy that faces his enemies like a man and respects his friends more than anything. Every Paris that's ever wrestled has kept that legacy... and that means in a 23 year career I never once swore in front of a fan, I never once attacked a man backstage, I never once cracked jokes about a man's sexuality like you seem so fond of doing... I never did anything beneath myself.     Now, I'm ashamed to admit this, but this Musashi character your     fighting with knows a heck of a lot more about being a Paris than you do right now! He stands his ground, he tells you to your face what he's going to do to you, he is what a man should be. You... [Ronnie lowers his head, at which his father pauses for a moment.] You have a choice. [Ronnie's head perks up, and he looks at his father with a quizzical look about him.] RP: A choice? KP: It's simple. You can walk across this ring and shake my hand, and     you've proven you respect the Paris name. Or you can turn around and walk out of here, and prove to everyone... especially yourself... that you aren't half the man you claim to be. The choice is yours. [Kevin holds his hand out to shake, and briefly the camera zooms in on it. It then pans back out, and shows the younger Paris staring at his father's hand, not moving a muscle either way. The fans shout out encouragement to go for it as he seems undecided... then he takes a step forward, a tentative second step... the crowd begins to cheer... And then Ronnie turns away. Without a second look back, he jumps over the top rope to the outside and briskly walks away from the ring, his father still standing there with his hand out, his head bowed in shame as he son walks away from him. The fans begin to boo Ronnie mercilessly.] TD: Ronnie Paris is walking out on fifty years of tradition! He's just throwing it all away! [Ronnie disappears through the entrance curtains, still never having looked back. In the ring, his father finally gives up and makes to head back through the crowd to wherever he'd came from. Even in absentia, the jeers for Ronnie are deafening. Cut to the broadcast table at ringside, at which are seated Tim Dross, wearing his traditional IIWF blazer, and "Soundbite" Steve Roberts, who wears a t-shirt bearing the legend, "On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...", the remainder of the message unseen under his trademark leather jacket.] TD: Howdy, folks, and welcome to another live IIWF broadcast. I'm Tim Dross, and beside me, as ever, is my broadcast colleague and tag team partner, "Soundbite" Steve Roberts -- but what a scene we have just witnessed here, folks. Ronnie Paris has turned his back on his father, turned his back on his family name, turned his back on... SR: [interrupting] Aw, can it, Dross. Paris just showed everybody why he's been earning the Soundbite Seal of Approval week in, week out recently. Who the hell's gonna listen to a guy called "Kevin," anyway? TD: Well, Ronnie Paris may find out in three short weeks whether he has taken a short cut to a success or a short circuit to his career, when he faces the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi in a Ladder Match at Snow Brawl, coming live from the Aloha Stadium in Honolulu, Hawaii, on Saturday 17 January. We'll have more big news on that spectacular show here tonight -- but there's plenty of action coming your way in the next one hundred and twenty minutes on this special holiday Championship Saturday Night! SR: Grab your turkey sandwiches, knock back some egg nog, set fire to the Christmas tree -- four titles are on the line tonight, baby dolls! TD: Yes indeed, folks, all of the IIWF's championships will be defended right here tonight! As you saw at the top of the show just moments ago, IIWF World Heavyweight Champion Brody Thunder will defend against both Steve "the Fury" Kowalski and Serge Annis in what is sure to be one of the most fiercely competitive, hard-hitting, high-impact matches of the year, right here on the last show of 1997. Plus Intercontinental Champion Chris Quigley defends against Derek Mota... SR: [interrupting] ...who is determined to wrestle despite a broken ankle. Gotta love the tough little bastard. TD: ...while the "Rocket Man", Timothy N. Turner, defends his Cruiserweight Championship against Icehawk, formerly a three-time co-holder of the World Tag Team Championship but now striking out on his own in the singles ranks, and the Lost Boyz defend the World Tag Team Championships against Licensed for Devastation. A huge night of Championship action is coming your way in the next two hours! SR: And we'll also see two other former co-holders of tag team gold square off as "Savage" Shadoe Rage, formerly of the Prophets of Rage, meets Tragedy, formerly of the Harlequins, and now just some sad loser. TD: Now, Steve Roberts, Tragedy is a second-generation athlete with tremendous technical and submission skills. That could be tonight's show-stealing match, folks. Plus we have more tag team action as the Machines square off against two mystery opponents -- could tonight be the night they finally meet the Fabulous Ones in the squared circle? Joe Petrow returns to active duty here in the IIWF to meet his age-old nemesis, the huge Mark Destructo, later on tonight, and the Deathbringer will meet the Meatman at the top of our second hour. We've got some tremendous, tremendous action coming your way over the next two hours, so let's get straight into it with our first match of the evening. SR: Maybe. It might be stupid and pointless. It could be the return of the Alphabet Boys. It could be the latest editions to the fray from some pissant little promotion that thinks its got the stuff! TD: On the other hand...it could be the return of the Syndicate! SR: Why didn't you say so, Dross! Let's get up for the announcements! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| The Machines vs. Mystery Opponents |_||_| \_/\_/ |_|.................................................... WRITER: RP [Sparkplug Lee takes a quick hit from his breath spray so that he doesn't offend... the microphone... and launches into his introductions.] SL: The first match is a tag team affair with a fifteen minute time limit. Introducing first, hailing from Denver, Colorodo and Cleveland, Ohio...and weighing in at a combined 503 pounds...Paul Wong...Simon O'Neal...the Machines! ["Welcome To The Machine" by Pink Floyd plays as these two men head down to ringside. They are noticeably ignoring each other and clearly don't look like the happiest team in the world.] SL: And thier opponents...hailing from in and around New York City...weighing in at a combined 524 pounds...Tony Starks and the Subway Psycho! [A very confused pop erupys as Ozzy Osbourne's "Crazy Train" fills the arena. The two combatants head down the aisle, focused on the Machines in the ring.] TD: Tony Starks and the Subway Psycho! What an amazing turn of events! SR: First these guys hate each other, then they like each other, then they hate each other, and now...what the heck is going on? TD: I can only assume that the combined forces of the IIWF Tag division hopes that this is temporary! [In the ring, Wong and Starks start off the match for thier respective teams. Suddenly Starks drops down and sweeps Paul Wong's feet, sending him crashing to the mat.] TD: Starks has the kneelock on Paul Wong! Wong is already in pain! SR: Look at the pansy cry! Get that putz out of the ring and let's see O'Neal take on these crazy bastards! [Wong forces himself to the ropes where Chuck Sanders calls for the break. Tony Starks' voice can be picked up by the microphones.] TS: Break? You want me to break? TD: Oh my lord! That was a massive knee drop onto Paul Wong's injured leg! Look at this! Wong is reaching for the tag but Simon O'Neal isn't paying attention! SR: He's got the tag now, but that king of concentration can't be good in a match like this! I guess O'Neal doesn't really care whether Wong gets beaten on! Smart guy! TD: How can you say smart guy when...O'Neal has gone right to the chokehold! Sanders is putting the count on him...no need! Tony Starks broke the hold himself by introducing his knee to O'Neal's lower abdomen. SR: Abdomen? He kicked him in the jewels! [Starks tags in the Subway Psycho and then sanps O'Neal to the mat with a DDT.] TD: Moonsault! The Psycho just did a moonsault onto Simon O'Neal! SR: If these Machines don't get thier minds on the match, the New York Nightmares are going to eat them alive! TD: Is that the new name for this duo? SR: I don't know. I just made it up. [Psycho picks O'Neal up and then puts him over with a thunderous belly-to-back suplex. He goes to pick him up again but O'Neals' hand lashes out and Psycho crumples to the mat.] TD: What was that? O'Neal pulled something out of his boot and leveled Subway Psycho but we couldn't see what it was! He;s going for the cover...kickout at two! SR: Now as long as he doesn't tag in Wong, they might have a chance! TD: Simon O'Neal with a big spinning neckbreaker on the Subway Psycho! The tide has definitely turned in this match! SR: Ah no! He's tagging in Wong! TD: Wong hops in the ring and immediately drops the Psycho in a backbreaker! Subway Psycho is clearly in trouble in there! SR: Now things will get interesting! Here comes the Fabulous Ones and the delectable piece of ass! TD: Paul Wong just dropped Psycho with a devastating Powerslam! He hasn't noticed Ms.Miki and the Fabulous Ones at ringside but SImon O'Neal sure has! SR: That gesture was just rude! TD: Miki is on the apron! Wong has spotted her and just drops the Subway Psycho! SR: I'd drop the sewer rat for Miki. She's a dish! TD: O'Neal is yelling for the tag! He know s that he has to get Paul Wong out of the ring but Paul isn't paying attention! Starks tags in though...he grabs Wong by the leg! Dragon Screw Legwhip! SR: Look at O'Neal! He's disgusted! TD: Simon O'Neal just jumped off the apron and is heading for the back! The Fabulous Ones are leaving as well! Paul Wong is all alone facing two very tough individuals! [Starks tags in Psycho who hits the ring from the top rope with a double fisted axe handle blow. He then levels Wong again with a running clothesline.] TD: Paul Wong is completely out of it! They could put him away at any time! SR: A troop of girl scouts could put him away at any time! [Starks is tagged back in and quickly applies the...] TD: Kathe Jime! Wong has no chance to get out of this and he knows it. Paul Wong has tapped out! SR: Look at that crazy Starks! He won't let go! TD: The Subway Psycho is keeping Chuck Sanders at bay while Tony Starks pours on the pressure! Where is Simon O'Neal? Why doesn't he come and help his partner? SR: I don't think he cares! [Finally Tony Starks releases the hold and he and his new partner leave the ring area to a mixed pop. An equally mixed pop occurs when Paul Wong refuses aid and heads down the aisle himself. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: What is it going to take, Steve Roberts, for the Machines to put their differences behind them and get out of this slump? SR: I'm not sure, Dross, but I'd start with a couple of bullets to the head. TD: Well, be that as it may, Steve Roberts, I'd start by suggesting that the Machines and the Fabulous Ones should meet in the squared circle as soon as possible. Until they settle their differences, Paul Wong and Simon O'Neal are simply destined not to get on. Okay, folks, our next match features two men who have given up successful tag team careers to try their luck as singles -- Tragedy and Shadoe Rage. SR: I don't like this, Dross. TD: Why? SR: Well, Shadoe is okay in my book, but Tragedy is just another gay guy. We need to be keeping those guys in the tags, so they don't pollute the real belts. And, God help us, his partner in the most frightening tag team of all time is getting a title shot tonight. TD: For those of you just joining us, Steve Roberts is referring to Icehawk, who teamed with Tragedy as the short-lived, but very successful, Cold Quins, and who is wrestling Timothy Turner for the Cruiserweight title later in this hour. Just think, Steve. By night's end, both Icehawk and Chris Quigley could hold singles belts. SR: You are a sick and twisted man, Dross. TD: Let's go to Sparkplug. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| "Savage" Shadoe Rage vs. Harlequin Tragedy |_||_| \_/\_/ |_|.................................................... WRITER: DH [Cut to Sparkplug Lee in the ring.] RA: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and has a regulation time limit. The first contestant, from Sleepy Hollow, Illinois, weighing 220 pounds, this is Tragedy!! [Good-sized pop as Tragedy comes down the aisle to "#1 Crush" by Garbage. The pop increases tenfold when Comedy appears behind him in a cute, but skimpy, Santa suit. She's wearing fluffy white mittens and is carrying a bag of toys over her shoulder. As the pair make their way to the ring, she hands out foam Happy Hammers to the fans. While Tragedy climbs into the ring, she greets Terror, Chaos and Melody, who are sitting in the front row, dressed in street clothes.] SR: You know, if I thought that would come down my chimney, I would start believing in Santa Claus again. SL: His opponent, weighing 248 pounds and hailing from Halifax, Nova Scotia, I give you "Savage" Shadoe Rage!! [The "Death March" starts to play, but there is no sign of Rage in the aisleway. The crowd starts to murmur, but that quickly turns to a gasp as Shadoe flies down from the upper deck on a zip line. Before Tragedy even sees him, the ex-Prophet has wrapped his cape over his head. While the Harlequin struggles to get free, Rage drops off the line and sends him flying out of the ring with a running kick to the head. Shadoe then dives onto him with a breathtaking somersault plancha over the top rope. Pop!] TD: My god! Tragedy doesn't even know what hit him! He's just lucky that the force of Rage's plancha knocked that cape off his head! SR: I don't think it matters -- I think he thinks he is back in Psycho Land with the rest of the family. [Tragedy slowly gets  to his feet, but is immediately whipped into the guardrail by a vengeful Rage. As he staggers forward, favoring his back, he walks right into a powerslam! This time, while the Harlequin tries to regain his senses, Shadoe grabs the ring bell off the timekeeper's table. He turns just as Tragedy gets to his knees, and smashes it onto the top of his head. Tragedy falls back, blood pouring down his face.] SR: Yes! We have blood! I'm really starting to like this Shadoe Rage kid. He can really go. TD: This isn't a wrestling match, Steve Roberts! This is a public maiming! Tragedy hasn't had a chance! SR: Dross, you say that like it is a bad thing. TD: It is! And look what Shadoe is going to try now! He's back in the ring to stop Dave D'Amato's count, but he's still got that the ring bell. He's going to dive onto Tragedy with the bell! This could end Tragedy's career! SR: Shadoe! Shadoe! Shadoe! [Rage bounces off the far ropes for momentum, then launches himself in a spectacular dive over the ropes. Sadly, for him at least, the only thing he crashes into is the bare floor, and after one sickening bounce, the steel guardrail.] TD: Comedy pulled Tragedy out of the way! She might have just saved her husband's life right there! SR: [sadly] I thought Santa was supposed to bring you what you wanted for Christmas, not ruin the whole thing. TD: And I think Shadoe's problems are about to get a whole lot worse! [Indeed, while Comedy is screaming at the referee about Rage's illegal tactics, Chaos has reached over the railing, grabbed Shadoe's head, and slammed it repeatedly into the steel rail. When he finally stops, the camera picks up that Rage is now bleeding as well.] SR: Double blood! I love a juicefest! [While all of this has been going on, Tragedy has finally gotten back up, and he now tosses the stunned Rage back into the ring. He then climbs to the top rope, and launches himself into a beautiful Shooting Star Press, smacking full force into Shadoe. He then hooks in an Indian Deathlock, drawing a groan from the semi-conscious Rage.] SR: Tragedy is crazy if he thinks he is going to get a warrior like Shadoe Rage to submit to an ancient move like the Indian Deathlock. That move has been out-of-date since the Neanderthals invented the figure-four. TD: Well, Steve, even if he doesn't get a submission, he probably thinks that, at the moment, Shadoe doesn't have the strength to power his way out of this. So he's looking to do some damage so that he will have the advantage when he goes for the Tragic Ending later in the match. [The camera pans in for a tight shot of Shadoe's bloody face as he tries to regain enough of his wits to figure out a way out of this. While this happening, the crowd starts to cheer for no apparent reason.] TD: Someone is coming out of the back... I can't quite see who it is... it's Edmund Fitzgerald! I guess he hasn't left the IIWF after all! SR: Oh great. Another ex-tag loser. Is this a convention? [The camera switches to Fitz, who looks awful. He apparently hasn't shaved since Cold Spell's loss to the Prophets a week ago, and he is dressed in a Detroit Red Wings jersey (#24), torn jeans, and work boots. He's carrying a wooden object in his left hand as he approaches the ring.] SR: Let me guess. He's wearing a hockey jersey, so he must be carrying a hockey stick, right? And then he will change his name to Sergei Fedorov. TD: Actually, I think that's a large oar, like the ones they use in the lifeboats of freighters on the Great Lakes. SR: Well, that makes sense. After all, his career is going down faster than the ship he is named after. TD: Steve Roberts, show some dignity. He took that name in honor of his father, who was on that ship when it sank. SR: Good. They will be togther soon... Damn! TD: My God! [During this chat, Fitz has entered the ring, and slammed the oar down on Dave D'Amato's unsuspecting head. Shocked pop! Tragedy, hearing the referee hit the mat, turns around, and is greeted with the edge of the oar's blade crashing directly into his gashed forehead. He drops like a rock, blood gushing onto the mat.] TD: What in the hell is he doing? Why in the world would Edmund Fitzgerald be helping Shadoe Rage? SR: I have no idea. But I like it! Apparently, getting rid of Icehawk was exactly what this guy needed. [Shadoe Rage slowly gets up, favoring his right knee. He looks at Fitz, expressions of appreciation and confusion playing across his face. But that quickly turns to one of agony as Fitz takes a baseball swing and crunches Rage's ribs with the oar. He then drops the doubled-over Rage with a shot to the back of the head as the crowd goes silent.] SR: I haven't seen people laid out like this since my last visit to Disney World. Best weekend of my life. TD: You know, Steve, I think I have figured out the symbolism of this attack. Obviously, Fitz is furious about the tactics of tag teams that have caused him to split up Cold Spell, right? SR: Right. But, actually, I don't remember anyone beating Icehawk with an oar. TD: But that's the point. Who better to attack than two men who represent the two teams that Cold Spell had the most trouble with -- and the most success. Don't forget that they won the tag titles twice -- once by beating the original Prophets, and once by beating the Harlequins. As a matter of fact, it goes deeper than that. Shadoe Rage and Tragedy are the men who Cold Spell pinned to win the belts. This is a very symbolic attack. SR: [awaking with a start] Oh, I'm sorry, Dross, did you say something? [Terror and Chaos have come over the railing, but Fitz points the oar at them, halting their advance. But that quickly changes, as it is grabbed out of his hands! Pop!] TD: Comedy has the oar! SR: But Fitz has Comedy! [Indeed, Fitz has scooped up Santa's little helper, and in one motion, he flings her over the top rope and right into Terror and Chaos! As Comedy sails into them, the oar slams into their heads, knocking them to the floor. Comedy crashes into the railing and lies twisted and motionless. Melody screams and jumps over the railing to attend to her fallen friend.] SR: Strike! He just took out all of the Harlequins with one shot! [Fitz turns back to the men in the ring, a sort of sick smile on his face. But as he does...] TD: Superkick! Shadoe Rage has somehow made his way to his feet, and just hit that kick right on the point of Fitz's jaw! [While Fitz staggers back into the ropes, Shadoe charges at him and hits a bulldog over the top rope and down to the floor. Both men are able to somewhat break their fall, and they start brawling at ringside. Within moments, though, they are sent flying as Tragedy slams into them with a dive off the top turnbuckle. Huge pop as all three men start throwing haymakers at whoever they can reach.] TD: This is insane! The referee is unconscious, and we have three men trying to kill each other on the floor. SR: Dross, you keep saying things like that. Shut up and enjoy the carnage. [A nasty clothesline by Shadoe leaves Fitz sagging against the railing, but as Rage turns back to Tragedy, he gets a taste of his own medicine as the Harlequin shows off his superkick! Shadoe is spun back by the blow -- right into a Shipwreck Slam spinebuster by the quickly-recovering Fitz. The former Cold Spell member gets up, only to find himself face-to-face with three very angry Harlequins. In the background, the IIWF medical team has come out, and is helping Melody try to revive Comedy.] TD: Edmund Fitzgerald is in big trouble now! Terror and Chaos have recovered from the earlier blow, and the three Quins look like they are out for blood here! [The three men advance on Fitzgerald, who just stands and watches them with no expression on his face. Before anything can happen, though, two figures come racing onto the scene and jump in front of the Quins.] TD: It's Icehawk and Duncan Macbeth! It looks like Icehawk must have been getting ready for his match, because he has his wrestling outfit on, but he's barefoot! Now he and Macbeth are literally dragging Fitzgerald away! [Icehawk stops as they pass the spot where Comedy still lies. The microphones pick up him asking Melody if she is OK, but she just looks up, tears streaming down her face, and tells Icehawk to "get that the hell out of here!". Meanwhile, Macbeth is shoving Fitz toward the back, asking "what were ye doing, lad?" Fitz's reply is almost too soft for the microphones to pick up, but viewers can just make out his sad reply: "They kept asking for bloodbaths. I just wanted to give them what they wanted."] TD: What a strange, strange scene. Icehawk looks genuinely worried about the woman who he has had such an odd relationship with, and Edmund Fitzgerald looks like he is about to cry. SR: Even the alliance of Macbeth and Icehawk is odd, since Icehawk is about to get stomped by Duncan's best friend. [With the intruders finally gone, Tragedy has gone over to check on Comedy, who is finally starting to regain consciousness. However, the IIWF medical staff insists on strapping her to a backboard and taking her for treatment. Melody goes with her, and after some prodding from Tragedy, so do Terror and Chaos to serve as guards. Tragedy watches them go, then turns back toward the ring... only to be grabbed by Shadoe Rage!] TD: Tilt-a-whirl piledriver on the floor! And now Shadoe is rolling Tragedy back into the ring! Tragedy is out! [Rage grabs a folding chair at ringside, then climbs into the ring. He sets Tragedy on the top turnbuckle, sets up the chair nearby, and then climbs to the top rope.] TD: My God! What is Shadoe Rage going to try here? SR: I don't know, but I'm going to enjoy it. [Shadoe falls back, grabbing Tragedy's head with his legs, and flips over into a huracanrana that spikes the Harlequin into the chair! Massive pop! Rage then covers Tragedy as Dave D'Amato painfully drags himself over to count. One... two...] TD: THREE! He got him with a rana into a piledriver on the chair! SR: I _really_ like this kid! SL: Your winner, "Savage" Shadoe Rage! [The ring starts to fill up with the fish that Shadoe's fans are throwing at the beaten Tragedy. In the meantime, Rage takes the ring mic.] SSR: I want to introduce my new valet, the greatest female wrestler in the world, Marissa Monet! [A stunning African-American woman appears in the aisle, wearing a leather coat, tight pants and high boots. Even without the boots, she would tower over most of the men in the IIWF. With them, she looks more like an NBA power forward. As she reaches the ring, she picks up one of the fish and lightly slaps Tragedy with it, then takes out a lipstick and scrawls "FWLI... this is your fate" on his chest.] TD: What a terrible scene, Steve Roberts! Tragedy had this match well in hand until the bizarre interference by Edmund Fitzgerald. And then Shadoe Rage took advantage of his concern over his wife's health to win the match. What kind of justice is that? SR: That's street justice, Dross. And that's the law of the land in the IIWF. TD: Well, once we have this mess cleaned up, next we have the big world tag team title match, as the Lost Boyz go up against Licensed For Devastation. SR: Great Dross, just great.  The tag champs du jour defending against a couple of sub .500 jobbers.  Is that what the tag ranks have been reduced to?  What happened to the real teams, Dross? Like Potato Famine and the Barnacle Brothers? TD: Let's send it off to Sparkplug Lee for the introductions. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| IIWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Lost Boyz vs. Licensed for Devastation ....................................................................... WRITER: JP [As the ring crew depart with several buckets full of fish, Sparkplug is momentarily mesmerized by a fan's laser pointer, before snapping to attention.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, your next match is scheduled for one-fall,     and it is for the IIWF World Tag Team Championship! [Moderate pop from the crowd] SL: Introducing first, the challengers... ["Down" by 311 begins to play] SL: At a total combined weight of 530 pounds, Licenced for Devastation! [Reggie Starr and Jonathan Chaos come to the ring wearing long brown trenchcoats, wearing sunglasses, walking confidently to the ring. Once inside, they remove their trenchcoats to reveal the new Licensed for Devastation t-shirts:  plain black on front, "LfD: IIWF Tag Team Champions" in red letters.  Starr and Chaos act like they own the ring, while trying to force the referee to wear one of thei t-shirts.] TD: Well, LfD is looking very confident tonight, Steve Roberts. SR: I bet you'll be able to get one of those t-shirts real cheap in     about a half hour! SL: And their... [Sparkplug's introduction is interupted by the appearance of the Down... er, Damage Inc. coming down the aisle.  They are continuing their Damage Inc. impersonation, flexing and posing for the crowd, Dan Oliver especially going at it as if his life depends on it.  They also carry cardboard cutouts of the IIWF tag title belts, with "Temp. IIWF Tag Champ. Belt" written on them with magic marker.] TD: It looks like we've already got a team trying to make a statement     during this match. SR: Yeah, it's the Damaged Boys! [Peterson and Oliver enter the ring, appearing ready to face off with LfD.  Chaos looks ready to go, but Starr holds him back, trying to keep his team focused.  Dan Oliver goes over to Sparkplug Lee, forcibly taking the mic to address the challengers:] DO: YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO FEEL THE TOP ROPE POWERBOMB?!  HUH?!     SOME MOTHER[BLEEP]ER IS GONNA DIE! [Oliver throws down the mic, while Peterson throws down the "belts", ready to get it on.  However, referee Chuck Sanders comes over to tell them that they are not the "champs" who are supposed to be involved in this match.  Upon hearing this, Oliver and Peterson leave the ring and enter the stands, and sit in two roped-off seats and put up a sign that reads "Autographs of Damage Inc., RSPWF Tag Team of the Year - 1996, #13 in RSPWF Tag Team 200, IIWF World Tag Team Champions, $20"] SL: Ahem... and their opponents... at a total combined weight of 628     pounds, the IIWF World Tag Team Champions... The Lost Boyz! ["Ambitions of a Rider" by 2Pac blares out, as Porteaux and Ramos stalk to ringside with Jeandra, both men grasping their belts by the straps in their right hands, barely noticing their imitators as they drop the belts on the ground and slide under the bottom rope into the ring.] TD: And the world tag team champions are ready for action tonight! SR: If Jeandra was ready for action, I might be interested.  As it is,     it might be too much to ask for me to stay awake.  Hey Dross, which     one was the gay guy again? [Sanders gets both teams back to their corners, as it appears that Porteaux will start off against Chaos] TD: And we're ready to go! SR: You know what, Dross?  You know all those times when the color     commentator says something, and the play-the-play guy says, "What     match are you watching?"  You know what Dross?  I'm gonna have some     fun.  I'm gonna call a different match tonight! [Chaos moves quickly into a lockup with Porteaux.  Despite Porteaux's strength, Chaos comes out ahead with a big shove that sends the title co-holder to the mat.] SR: An Asai Moonsault out of NOWHERE by Chaos!  Wow Dross, that was     almost as good as I do it! TD: Steve Roberts, please don't confuse matters for our listeners. [The Lil Soundbiters all crowd towards the broadcast table, trying to listen to Roberts' play-by-play.  Meanwhile, Porteaux has rebounded with an armringer on Chaos, who reverses and sends Porteaux to the ropes, taking him down with a big shoulder block.  LfD looks more focused than usual tonight, as Chaos picks up Porteaux by the hair and throws him outside the ring by LfD's corner.  Chaos makes the tag to Starr, who mounts the turnbuckles, and turns to face his opponent.] TD: Missle dropkick to floor, and Porteaux goes down hard! SR: Ramos is over there with a fork or something, going to work on     Chaos's head!  Blood is flowing like red rain, Dross!  I'm getting     a little verklempt now, talk amongst yourselves! TD: Steve Roberts, please... [Ramos DOES try to make his way over to his partner, but Sanders jumps out of the ring to keep him away, allowing Chaos and Starr to work Porteaux over with a series of punches and kicks.  Meanwhile, from the aisleway, Bear and Grey Phoenix of the Natural Predators make their way to ringside, as Porteaux begins to come to life, battling off both members of Licensed for Devastation.] TD: And now the Natural Predators try to... SR: IT'S "SYCHOSYS" JOE PETROW AND J.W. HARDIN!  These two maniacs are     going nuts, Dross!  Look at that Cattlebuster Asspump!  Shocked pop     from the crowd! [As if on cue, the L'il Soundbiters listening give a "shocked pop", as Porteaux and Starr make their way back into the ring.  Starr drops Porteaux with a spinning back kick out of nowhere, pointing back to his shirt and yelling out "Read it and weep, baby!  And get your wallets ready to buy your own!"  Starr reaches back to tag Chaos back into the ring.] TD: Licensed for Devastation is putting on quite a performance tonight,     they just might be ready to take the gold! SR: Chaos with some kind of funky armlock here, Dross.  He's starting     to pull... [Chaos picks up Porteaux, sending him to the ropes and landing a thunderous spinebuster!  Chaos stands and speads his arms out, saying "It's time to end this!", and getting a decent pop from the crowd. Chaos tags in Starr, then goes back for Porteaux...] TD: They're going for the Breach of Contract!  Starr is going up,     and they're trying to put the Lost Boyz away early! SR: AND CHAOS RIPPED OFF PORTEAUX'S ARM!  PORTEAUX HAS A BLOODY STUMP,     WHILE CHAOS BEATS HIM OVER THE HEAD WITH HIS OWN ARM!  Now THIS     is hardcore, Dross! [Knowing reason is hopeless, Dross ignores his partner completely, while the L'il Soundbiters, lost in Roberts' fantasy match, are frothing at the mouth.  Meanwhile, Starr is on the top rope while Chaos sets up for the powerbomb, when Eddy Ramos reaches the breaking point, jumping into the ring, past the referee, and over to attack Chaos. Ramos lands several stiff blows to Chaos, but fails to notice the incoming Reggie Starr, who nails Ramos from behind with a low blow concealed from the referee's view.  Chaos then throws Ramos out of the ring, near the watching Natural Predators, and returns to the still fallen Porteaux.] TD: Well, they stopped that threat, and Starr's going up... they're gonna try the Breach of Contract again!  Chaos got him up... they hit it!  Starr's going for the cover, we could have new tag champs right here! ["Damage Inc." are seen laughing their heads off in the stands, as Reggie Starr makes the cover... but there is no count.  Outside the ring, Ramos has taken issue with the Natural Predators, and he and Jeandra have a heated confrontation, which has grabbed the referee's attention.  Jeandra turns her attention to the referee, in a flimsy attempt to distract him from making the count... which appears to be working.] TD: Oh my, Starr's had at least a five count here!  Somebody tell the referee to turn around! SR: Wait a minute Dross!  Who's that coming down from the rafters!? It's a bird, no, it's a plane, NO!  It's... [After nearly a ten second cover on Porteaux, Starr can take no more, and in fury, heads over to the referee.  While complaining, Porteaux, who may have been playing a little possum, gets up and attacks Starr from behind.  Chaos tries to interfere, but is met with a superkick from Porteaux for his trouble.  Ramos has made his way back to his corner, and Porteaux lunges out for the hot tag...] TD: And finally Eddy Ramos is legally in the ring, and he is a house of fire! [Eddy Ramos is going wild, taking both members of Licensed for Devastation down with a series of hambone right hands.  Big pop from the crowd, as Ramos picks up the larger Chaos, _gorilla presses_  him over his head, and tossing him onto Starr, sending both men down! Chaos jumps onto both men with a legdrop, as Porteaux shouts from the outside for Chaos to finish things.  With that, Ramos digs Starr out from the pile, and sets him up on the top rope.] TD: Just like that Ramos has changed the complexion of this match, and he's looking to put Starr out with the Dog Collar top rope powerbomb! SR: And some crow-like guy from the rafters is beating everyone in sight with Porteaux's arm!  OH MY GAWD! [Almost effortlessly, Ramos raises Starr up and drives him into the canvas with a top rope powerbomb.  Chaos has come to and tries to make the save, but Porteaux intercepts him, and send him down with The Flush!] SR: And a Bullet Train to Hell by Porteaux!  How the hell did he do that with one arm, Dross?! TD: Ramos with the cover... One... Two... Three! And the Lost Boyz retain their titles! SR: Wow, a successful title defense!  That makes for a dynasty in the tag ranks! [2Pac's music kicks up, as Chuck Sanders hand the champs their belts back, while the Natural Predators just stand there, taking it all in.  From the stands, Peterson and Oliver hold their cardboard belts up and taunt the champs, as Oliver pours a can of Mooselips over his mouth, smashing the can against his head as he pours.  Porteaux and Ramos make their way to the floor to confront them, but security forces keep them separated. Meanwhile, the vanquished challengers have come to, and stand in the ring looking over Natural Predators, screaming at them for costing them the titles.  They appear ready to come to blows, but the Jobber Justice Squad and additional security quickly move to defuse the situation.  After many tense moments, the teams are finally escorted back to the locker room.] SR: Wow, that was a great match, Dross. TD: That's the only sort we have here in the IIWF, Steve Roberts. Although one of the participants doesn't seem to think so, we have     one heck of a match coming up -- it's for the Cruiserweight Title. SR: Now, I kinda like Tim Turner. He has style and some raw talent... he     can get things done. I think you also know I don't like IceFreak, he's always been lucky to stay out of the JJS. Normally I'd be deriding the IceFreak for thinking he had a chance, but the great thing is he knows he doesn't! TD: Now, I'm sure if he just shows a little confidence this will be a     great match. SR: It's a tune up. Squash City. Another 30 days Turner can dodge real     contenders. Even if Icey did have confidence he's heartbroken over     the lost of his significant other. TD: I'm not even going to get into that. SR: Who's gonna wear the pyjama bottoms now? You know, they should make a kids' show about that, "Tag Wrestlers in Pyjamas" or something. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| IIWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| "Rocket Man" Timothy N. Turner vs. Icehawk ....................................................................... WRITER: JdW [Our intrepid ring announcer steps up to the job, his mic just a tad close to his mouth as he tries to begin the ring introductions.] SL: Ladies and [SQUUUUUEEEEEEEE!], would you [SCREEEEEEECCCHHHH!] as we... [Sparky soon gets the hint to shut up and try again as he sees 20,000 wrestling fans covering their ears in pain. Smiling meekly, he inspects the microphone with an untrained eye and lies, mouthing that it "must be broken". This time as he tries using the mic he holds it at a respectful distance, and the feedback is cut to a minimum.] SL: The following contest, which is scheduled for one fall, is for the     IIWF Cruiserweight Championship! Introducing first, the challenger, he hails from Oulo Finland and weighs in at 220 pounds... a former     three-time World Tag Team Champion, Icehawk! [A respectful, but not earth-shattering pop breaks out as the Olympic fanfare that marks Icehawk's entrance begins to play. Sure enough, Icehawk does burst through the curtains as usual, but he seems not to have as much energy as usual. It's tough to totally subdue this guy, but he is moving a little slower towards the ring, is hopping around a little less, and is greeting a few less fans. As he walks to the ring, with a look something near self-pity on his face, he spies an "unfriendly" seated in the front row.] TD: If you'll follow Icehawk's gaze... SR: [interrupting] No comment. TD: You'll notice Akira Saito, the good friend and former tag partner of     both Tim and Tom Turner. I still recall that great interview cum docudrama I hosted with the NorthPac Coalition... if you're interested in ordering a copy call 1-900-IIWF-VID and ask for Cheryl. SR: Selling about as well as those Christmas albums, right? TD: Damn straight. [We now return to a man fortunate enough not to have to shill dignity reducing merchandise, though dignity may not matter to a guy in a powder blue tuxedo.] SL: And his opponent, the IIWF Cruiserweight Champion of the World, he     hails from Victoria, British Colombia, Canada, and weighs 230 pounds, he is the "Rocket Man" Tim Turner! [Elton John's "Rocket Man" cues up, and the champ everyone loves to hate makes a trademark ritzy entrance, what with rocket-like fireworks exploding to the roof, and then the man himself stepping into the aisle in his elegant, no, ornate robe. Icehawk is unable to lock eyes with him, just staring at his feet as the champ slowly walks down towards the ring, showing off the little jewels on his robe to anyone who looks even remotely interested. Finally, referee Chuck Sanders gets tired of waiting, and motions at Turner to hurry up his entrance. The Canuck does so, but not happily as he semi-jogs the rest of the way to the ring, slides in under the bottom rope and pops back up to see Icehawk extending his hand.] TD: Icehawk is looking for a handshake, although it might be better to     say hoping for. SR: Look into that, uh, "man"'s eyes, he knows he isn't an equal to Tim     Turner. You can see it in the way he's asking for a shake... almost like he's in awe. He must be confusing Tim with me. TD: Quite. Well, Turner does grant the handshake, although in a somewhat     condescending manner, and now he's disrobing. SR: If only we could get those Von Edwards sisters disrobing. Each other. [Turner now had his robe off, and his jet pack almost off, while Icehawk was hopping around his corner, but not nearly as much as he would normally. Finally, as Turner drops his jet pack to the mat and a swift ring attendant picks it up, the bell is rung.] SR: [in a bad Cuban accent] You watch dis jet pack, chico... if anything     'appen to dis jet pack... TD: I don't think you're allowed to say that, Steve. [Turner moves a little slowly off the gun, not expecting much resistance from Icehawk. He seems to be wrong, however, as the Finn immediately runs at him with a clothesline, catching the champ off guard and knocking him off his feet. Icehawk runs straight for the ropes, building up momentum as Turner is rising to his feet in surprise, only to see 'Hawk rebounding back off the ropes into a spinning heel kick, clipping Turner on the jaw. Realizing now that Icehawk's humility had just been a ruse, the fans start loudly cheering him on as he again runs off the ropes for momentum to keep the pace fast, returning to blast an off guard TNT with a dropkick that forces him to stumble back... back... and over the top rope to the outside!] TD: Icehawk is dominant so far, and he used Tim Turner's ego against him     to do it! SR: He'll screw it up somewhere, he'll probably try to make a tag or     something. [Turner shakes his head upon landing (fortunately for him on his feet) and heads over towards Akira Saito to discuss strategy, we presume. Icehawk doesn't seem interested in letting the pace slow down, so he starts making a beeline for Turner on the outside. Neither of the old partners have seen Icehawk as he flies over the top rope into a suicide dive, firing himself right at Turner's back... but then the champ moves! Without even looking back, he moves out of the way and allows Icehawk to fly past him into the security railing! Sympathetic pop as his head hits the steel.] SR: How's that for mind games? Turner knew the idiot was coming, but he     didn't let it show and he suckered the freak in! TD: I never denied that Turner was a great athlete. [Turner moves over the fallen Icehawk with a smile on his face, and picks the former Olympian up to his feet somewhat roughly, only to smash his head back down over the railing. He holds onto 'Hawk, and whips him towards the steel ringpost, but the move is reversed and Turner goes careening towards the steel. He tries to get his hands up in time, but it's too little and too late to stop him taking a header. Icehawk is understandably dazed, but he walks slowly over to Turner and hauls him up to roll him back into the ring. The Finn decides to follow him in with a somewhat less than conventional method, leaping to the top rope and then springboarding right off into a splash. Icehawk stays where he is and hooks a leg to cover: for 1 - 2 - and Turner gets a shoulder up! Unperturbed, Icehawk waits for Turner to struggle a bit and stand up, and then knees him in the gut to double him over. He clasps his hands under Turner's gut, and lifts up into a power bomb... but brings him down hard into a pin!] TD: We might have a title change... but Turner kicks out at two again! SR: Icehawk better not win on a fluke pin or anything. It was bad enough     having him as a tag champ, but could you imagine having a _second_ gay singles champ? TD: I'd ask who you think the first one is but I probably already know. [Still not frustrated, Icehawk holds onto Turner's legs out of the pin and pulls back, flinging Tim back with a slingshot towards the corner. Turne does little to try and stop his momentum, hitting the buckles hard and even flipping up over the turnbuckles, making a shaky landing on the apron outside with one arm hooked around the top rope, and is flipped back in facing the other way to walk right towards Icehawk. A right hand from the slightly smaller man floors Turner, who'd been on shaky footing to begin with, and Icehawk takes the opportunity to head over to the corner. He jumps quickly to the second turnbuckle, and then pulls himself up to the top as Turner is starting to get up. Icehawk gets a gleam in his eyes and jumps around on the top to face ther other direction, and then leaps off with a moonsault bodyblock attempt. Turner steels himself for impact as Icehawk comes flying in... but then grabs him about the waist in mid-air and drives forward, slamming 'Hawk's back into the mat!] SR: See what happens when these jumping beans try to bounce around too     much? Turner's using a wise strategy, just let the freak beat himself. TD: I wouldn't count out Icehawk after just that move. [Turner doesn't pin right away, instead deciding to wear down the high flyer with submission holds. He grabs both of Icehawk's legs around the knee, and then simply turns over into a Boston Crab, keeping a lot of pressure on the back. Icehawk screams in pain, trying vainly to inch his way forwards despite being several feet from the ropes. The only effect this has is to cause Turner to lean back harder, putting even more pressure on.] TD: People may think of him as flashy or showy, but never forget that Tim Turner is first and foremost a great technical wrestler. SR: But he can't do an Asai moonsault. TD: Or a Soundbite Stall? [Roberts just shoots a dirty look at his colleague, declining to reply. Meanwhile, back in the ring Turner sees that Icehawk isn't prepared to submit, so he suddenly let's go of the crab. He hasn't given up on punishing his challenger, though, as he waits for Icehawk to get back up, crouched in a three point stance. Icehawk makes it to his feet, and Turner charges without any particular move in mind, just hurling his body towards the gymnast. Icehawk, nimble as always, is ready to duck out of the way and at the same time trip up Turner with a drop toe-hold. He then shucks up to a half-nelson, but Turner's training in freestyle wrestling kicked in and he slipped the move into an armbar on Icehawk. Tim stands up to get more leverage, bringing Icehawk to his feet with him. He isn't prepared, however, when an elbow comes flying in at his nose. Turner stumbles back, and Icehawk runs towards the far ropes yet again to get momentum, keeping up his ping-pong ball style of bouncing around.] TD: Icehawk cannot be held down for long, he just keeps this match so     quick that Turner's having trouble setting up a rythym. SR: I set up a rythym once... best weekend of my life. [Turner regains his footing to see Icehawk running full bore at him, so he sets up for a standing dropkick. Things look bad for Icehawk... until we realize that he's held onto the ropes, and Turner isn't going to connect with anything but mat. Turner lands on his side, and Icehawk moves to capitalize before he can get back up by going to the second rope. He leaps off with a kneedrop, but Turner starts to roll away on instinct and the Hawk crashes his knee down to the mat. He rolls over immediately, clutching at the knee, and Turner sees it as a target. He fires a thrust kick right at the injured knee, and the pain is immediately evident on Icehawk's face. He tries to get up... a huge grimace apparent... and the knee fails him. Turner draws his thumb across his throat, signalling the end, and makes his way towards the turnbuckles.] SR: Here comes the TNT, baby dolls, this is gonna be it! TD: We have to believe Icehawk is in some serious trouble here, and if     Turner hit this elbowdrop it should be enough to win. SR: I know what I'm talking about here, Dross. It ain't "should be enough to win", it's "enough to win". [Turner makes his way a little slowly to the top rope, but Icehawk seems no threat to get out of the way with how hurt his knee is. He stands on the top buckle and starts grandstanding a bit, raising his arms to the air and taking a second to aim before flying into the air... flying towards the downed Icehawk... The downed Icehawk who is suddenly no longer downed. Who is well out of the way as Turner crash-lands on the mat. Almost before Turner has hit, Icehawk is running at top speed towards the ropes, getting there and bounding off them into a summersault splash. Turner sees it coming but is in no condition to move as Icehawk crashes onto him, covering one more time to try for a win.] TD: One... two... new champion! Wait, Chuck Sanders is saying that was only two. it's awfully close if you ask me. SR: Too damn close. Anyone can win on a fluke and this IceFreak seems     determined to give me a heart attack by doing it. [Icehawk still keeps up the lightning pace, taking Turner to his feet and picking him up for an atomic drop. He doesn't follow through, though, instead carrying Turner over to the corner and setting him up on the buckles. He follows up soon after, hooking the arm of a still largely listless Turner and setting up for a snap superplex. Saito on the outside yells for Turner to block, but to no avail as Icehawk snap back into the move, hitting it dead on with minimal impact to himself.] TD: That has to be enough to put Turner away! Icehawk with a cover and... where's Chuck Sanders? SR: Akira Saito has him distracted! He's started yelling, he's trying to     get up to the ring apron... because he knew his pal was in trouble.     What a great strategist! TD: Cheater. SR: Whatever. [Icehawk doesn't realize that no count was forthcoming, so he continues to cover, while some fans begin an informal count. 1...2...3...4...5 still no sign of Sanders... 6...7... finally, Icehawk gets up to find out what's going on. He sees Sanders distracted, and gets his attention to turn around as Saito finally stops trying to be a distraction.] TD: Sanders paying attention to his job again... SR: And just in time, here comes Turner with a Victory Roll! I think he     has him! And.... and... he does! [Loud boos, to say the least break out as Turner's hand is raised, and he quickly dashes to the outside to meet up with his former partner and be handed his title. Icehawk, meanwhile, just lies motionless as the announcement is made.] SL: The winner of this contest, and _still_ IIWF Cruiserweight Champion,     Timothy Turner! [Icehawk gets to his knees, still disbelieving, and stares blankly at the mat as the fans start to cheer for him. The noise level grows, getting louder and louder as the fans demonstrate who they think the real champion is. With this, Icehawk is able to get to his feet, his amicable old self. Turner, of course, is long gone.] TD: I really think Icehawk was robbed tonight... still, he made a     fantastic singles debut here in the IIWF, and he'll be knocking down a lot of people's doors soon. Give that man a rematch, he's the rightful champion. SR: I don't think I could stand seeing another match like that. The freak had a talent like Turner working with him and the match still ended up being duller than a Tim Dross fan club convention. TD: We had six people last year. Plus a few Hare Krishna's that got lost. SR: Just shill the video. TD: The number is 1-900-IIWF-VID, get that NorthPac Coalition video while they're still in stock! Hang on... here comes Billy Shakespeare! [The crowd explodes into cheers as "Little Willie" by the Sweet kicks in over the PA system. The lights in the arena drop to almost total darkness, until a single spotlight suddenly casts its beam towards the head of the aisle. The entrance curtain is swept aside, and out walks "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare to a huge pop, taking his deep, trademark bow, and casting a long shadow in the bright spotlight as he begins to make his way down the aisle towards the ring, slapping hands with the eager fans as he comes.] TD: Here comes the man who, together with Marty Warnett, drove Bradley Reed from the IIWF last week -- and it looks like he has something to say. [Shakespeare, now in the ring, signals for the microphone.  Sparkplug quickly shuttles it over.  Billy holds the mic, concentrating for a silent moment, before finally finding the words he was looking for.] BS: Marty, I must congratulate you on a job well done.  No one enjoys a     twist of the story line more than I:  Iago betraying Othello... Brutus backstabbing Caesar.  But it costs to sit in the front row at a performance.  I paid dearly, Marty.  I kept my faux smile going as you shattered that crutch over my back.  True, the support was naught but splintery wood that would have shattered in a babe's hands, but as pointed out in Macbeth, "The attempt, and not the deed, confounds us."         A man like me has a lot of pride.  And a lot of fans.  What does Mommy tell little Johnny Jones when he asks why his hero, Billy     Shakespeare, is getting hit with a crutch?  What does she tell Johnny when he asks why Billy doesn't stop Marty?  Why Billy doesn't come back the next week and beat Marty up?   What can be done to appease Johnny's tears of sorrow and confusion? Well, for one, he can kick Marty Warnett's butt. [The crowd, which had been cheering appreciatively, now quiets to a murmur of whispers.]     I'm sorry Marty, you're the closest thing I've got to a friend left in this fed.  But what have you done to deserve getting in a free shot at Billy Shakespeare?  You once claimed that I've been holding you back... taking the face push that you so richly deserved... what have you done to deserve the glory?  So you beat Quigley... who hasn't?  So you wore the IC belt... so did I.  Here's your chance to make or break your reputation: beat Billy Shakespeare.  You haven't done it yet. You put out a contract on me for Snow Brawl.  Bradley Reed was to be your hit man.  If you've go the bullocks, I've got the contract. [The crowd explodes as it realizes that its two favorite wrestlers might meet at the Pay-Per-View.]     I leave you with one thought... from Hamlet... "Foul deeds will rise. Though the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes." [Billy hands the mic to a confused Sparkplug Lee.  Shakespeare straightens Sparky's tie, gives another grand bow to the crowd, and exits to a big pop.] TD: Billy Shakespeare has challenged Marty Warnett to a match at Snow Brawl, folks! How will Warnett, who is supposedly retired from active competition due to injury, respond? Will he pull on the tights one last time to answer the call of his friend? SR: Warnett's not even here tonight, Dross. He's on convalescence leave. TD: Absolutely right, Steve Roberts -- we won't get an answer from Marty Warnett tonight... but we'll do our very best to bring you Marty's response just as soon as we can! Warnett vs. Shakespeare at Snow Brawl -- will we see that match in just three weeks' time? Folks, we've got to take a short break, but we'll be right back in just a few moments with another sixty minutes of hard-hitting action. [Shakespeare has reached the head of the aisle, and he takes one last, deep bow before disappearing back to the locker room. Cut to a wide angle shot of the arena as fans cheer and wave their banners. 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+