________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| |\ /| /\ |\ | | /\ \ / | || | \ v v / | __| | v |/ \| \| __| /__\ \/ |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| | |\ /| |/ |/ \/ | | \/ | |\_// /\ |\ /| | _ | / __ / __ | v | | | / \ . |\ | / \ / \ | | | | \__ | | \| | __ \__ 12 January 1998 | | | | \ | | | \__| \ .....................|..v_____/.|.|..|____|____/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The doors to the IIWF interview area opens abruptly amidst a great commotion. Brody Thunder, dressed in street clothes, backs through the doors, restrained by members of the brawny IIWF security team. Thunder is obviously angry and shouting at Steve Kowalski, whom, just moments ago, he'd just been nose-to-nose with in the ring. The mic picks up Thunder's tirade.] BT: ...yer flamin' cage match! Ya think that changes anythin',runt?! I'll plant yer ass in there jus' the same! Ya'll have no place ta run, Kowalski! Ain't no one gonna save yer hide when the door shuts. Got it?! _No_one_! [A large burly guard muscles Thunder back from the door so they can shut it. Thunder begins shaking off the man holding his arms. The others exit the area in an attempt to restrain Kowalski, who was not far behind Thunder in the hallway.] Get the hell offa me, punk! I ain't one o' them ticket-buyin' idjits ya can jus' push around! I'll lump yer squ... hey! Ain't you the same guy I planted in that table few weeks back at the contract signin'? One o' ol' Danny-boy's "bodyguards"? [The guard gnashes his teeth in humiliated anger but says nothing.] Yeah... that's you. How's the head feelin', pal? Hehe. [The guard stands behind Thunder now, facing the camera with his arms folded across his chest. Thunder wheels around and sees the camera. The devilish grin disappears from his face to be replaced with a clenched teeth and an angry fury in his eyes.] Kowalski... ya want a cage match? No problemo,amigo. I ain't no stranger ta them. But I don't think ya realize jus' exactly what you've done, hoss. Ever try an' cage a wolf, Kowalski? They don't much care fer it. In fact, they downright get nasty about it. An' now ya locked yerself in there with the toughest Wolf o'em all. [The guard stares at Thunder, sporting a slight sarcastic smirk while shakes his slightly as Thunder speaks, but remains standing with his arms crossed.] Let's cut the horsespit right here. This ain't jus' some match the promoter signed ta fill seats. This match ain't about the flamin' world strap. This match is about bein' the best there in this business. You think it's you. I think it's me. There ain't but one way we're leavin' that match, my friend. An' that's on a gurney ta the hospital. That's jus' a fact. But we both knew that when we signed fer this match. It's the price ta pay fer bein'the best. It's the way we both are. Scrappers ta the end. I said if ya beat me then I'll leave this flamin' federation an' that's the truth. Ain't no bull[bleep]. You win... I walk. But lemme tell ya, ace, beleivin' it don't equal acheivin' it. See, I don't plan on leavin'. Not now. Not ever. Period. I got two predictions fer Snow Brawl so don't bother callin' some psychic hotline. One is I'm gonna walk outta that cage the same way I'll walk in... as the IIWF World champeen. An' two... [Thunder wrings his hands together with a wide grin, as if in anxious anticipation.] It's gonna be one _helluva_ fight, son. An' I'll tell ya this, "Fury"... I've come ta respect ya. _Respect_ ya... not _like_ ya. Big difference. I'll give ya credit. Ain't no one in this business 'cept Hardin ever go tooth an' nail with the Wolf like you have. I do respect that. But now it's time ta fight, not talk. One week. One week, amigo... then I put you on the shelf fer good. Get yer affairs in order. Name yer beneficiary. Tell 'em where ta send the flowers. 'Cuz come January 17th the sweat's gonna pour, the bones are gonna snap... an' the blood's gonna flow, ace. An' when it's all said an' done, ain't but _one_ man gonna be able ta say he's the best in the flamin' world. That man's name... is Brody Thunder. Hope ya paid attention. See, that ain't jus the name o'yer _opponent_, Kowalski. [Thunder leans into the camera accentuating his point.] It's yer epitaph. [Thunder turns around and sees the guard still standing there. The burly man motions the Cowboy to exit out the back. Thunder stops and quickly raises his hand to his head, startling the guard, who jumps nervously and falls backwards, tripping over a chair and falling to the floor in a spastic frantic heap. Thunder laughs out loud. The man scrambles to his feet, embarrassed, as Thunder walks toward the exit. The big Arizonan is overheard saying, "Hell, if ya moved that quickly before, son, I wouldn't have put yer ass through that tab..." The door slams shut, cutting off the last of the statement. The camera pans up to the IIWF banner on the concrete wall for a close-up. As it pans in the screen fades to black.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Steve "The Fury" Kowalski ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The majesty of the first Snow Brawl ’98 poster is being put up, outside of the IIWF arena. The matches would be main events in any other federation, but at Snow Brawl there will be one main event: IIWF Heavyweight Championship - "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder vs. Steve "The Fury" Kowalski. That same Fury walks out to the parking lot, watching the IIWF employees finish pasting up the billboard-sized advertisement. As the New Jersey Nightmare is lost in thought over the upcoming events, President Spreadbury walks over. First admiring the new poster, Spreadbury then comments to Kowalski...] DS: It’s going to be the biggest Pay Per View in the IIWF’s history. Our buyrate will go through the roof. [Pausing for a second, Daniel Spreadbury makes a move few would dare to do. He puts his hand on Kowalski’s shoulder and smiles. Even the men putting up the poster turn and stare in disbelief. ] This will be the main event to shake them all, Steve. I always felt that you were the man to... SK: Ya got a second to move yer hand or I pull arm from its socket. DS: Uh... Right. [Disaster has been avoided. Six days and counting...] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Sychosys" Joe Petrow ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Cut to footage of Team Sychosys walking back to the locker room, Petrow not even noticing the Sychopath holding a large banner that reads, "The Truth Is At http://www.sisko.demon.co.uk/archive/thursday_sycho.txt" Once inside the curtain, Petrow releases McArthur.] JP: You go back to the locker room. I got something to take care of. [With that, Petrow stalks off down another aisle, as the camera chooses to follow him. After a couple of odd twists and turns, Petrow busts through an unmarked door. Inside, the referees for the night are changing out of their clothes. Instantly, Petrow bursts towards a shirtless Earl Alfonso, puts his hands on his shoulders, and backs him against the locker. Petrow shoots a quick glance at another referee who appears to be heading for the door.] JP: I WOULDN'T DO THAT IF I WERE YOU! Besides, we're all brothers, we can police ourselves! Alponso, are you the referee for my submission match next week!? EA: Well, I... JP: ANSWER ME! EA: I don't know! It hasn't been decided yet! JP: Well you're all here, so you can all listen! I know what Quigley is like! You know what Quigley is like! You know he gave up last week don't you!? EA: Hey Joe, you were there, you made the call! JP: Damn right I did! I been in every kind of situation you can think of as a referee, and there ain't ONE time I haven't called it right down the middle! Hell, if I didn't, I'd be banned from the IIWF! And he says if he ever submits in a match, he'd retire! Who the hell was that I wrestled tonight!? Who the hell is the liar in all this!? EA: Joe, what do you want? Whoever it is, we're going to call for the submission the second we hear it! JP: THAT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH! He'll have an excuse! He ALWAYS has an excuse! Somebody had to tell me it was Scott Bloom in Manning's corner on Wednesday; I sure as hell thought it was Quigley! But I'll tell you what. I'll make it really easy on whoever refs the match. I don't want any of you making the call! I don't want any of you stopping the match over an unconscious wrestler, and I don't want any of you stopping the match after hearing a whisper that may or may not sound like "I Quit!" All I want you to do, is stick a microphone in the face of the guy in pain, and wait for 50,000 people to hear somebody tell the world the world loud and clear, "I QUIT!" Just like Magnum and Tully! Because we have too much at stake in this match to worry about somebody getting screwed, and I'm not having ANYBODY take away ANY of the satisfaction I'll get from making Quigs hold true to the time honored tradition! [Petrow releases Alfonso and storms off. The camera holds on Alfonso massaging his shoulders, and the picture fades out.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley & Steve Manning ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: Backstage of IIWF Saturday Night, moments after the main event was completed.  A sweaty Chris Quigley enters the scene, followed by an irate and exhausted Steve Manning, who lights up a cigarette as Quigley begins to speak in a somewhat raspy voice, from the pounding his throat took in the match.] CQ: I just don't know how you do it, Petrow.  How in the hell did you manage to persuade the referee to stop the match?  I gave you every opportunity to for you to show me what you were all about, and you failed every single time!  Without your little buddy, McArthur, the match would've been over as soon as I put that anklelock on you in the first minute of the match. [Quigley shrugs and looks away from the camera, as Manning emits a trail of smoke from his mouth before speaking, or actually, yelling...] SM: Tapped out?!  _I_ tapped out?!  That's complete and utter _bull[BLEEP_! I don't know what the IIWF's financial state is, but you'd think they could at least afford a good exterminator!  I was in that relaxing leg stretching excercise that Joe Petrow performs so well, when all these damn cockroaches started crawling towards us!  Petrow screamed like a little schoolgirl who just got shot with a 9mm silver pistol, and so I started to slap the mat a few times, to kill all the nasty little critters!  Next thing I know, the referee rings the bell and says I gave up.  I just don't understand how anyone would think the Sanguinary One would submit.  It's mind-boggling! [Quigley shoves Manning to the background, and points into the camera.] CQ: I've got four words for you, Joe Petrow... [Manning, unable to resist, leaps forward and screams out.] SM: SUCK MY [BLEEP]in' [BLEEP]! [Quigley grabs Manning and literally throws him out of the way.] CQ: No, that's not it.  The four words I have for you are quite simple. Snow Brawl.  Submission Match.  That's all.  Really, that's all you need to think about.  That, and the fact that you are wrestling in this submission match with "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley.  A submission artist, and someone who has never, ever, _once_ given up in his entire career.  Think about that. [Quigley almost gives a faint smirk.] CQ: Just think about it. [Manning crawls back into the picture, as Quigley glares at the camera.  Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ronnie Paris ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Open to the usual Musings backdrop. Ronnie Paris stands alone, obviously tired and reeling from his earlier battle, and wearing his newly-won Cruiserweight Title around his waist. The belt looks like it's already been polished about half a dozen times. A wide grin breaks out onto Ronnie's face as he looks down on his title, regarding it as lovingly as if he were a father looking at his newborn child. Finally he is able to tear his gaze away, and he looks back up into the camera starry-eyed, beginning to speak.] RP: The so called "Paris Curse" is over. You know why it is? Do you know why I was the first man in my family to win a major title in a national American promotion? Because, instead of whining about the way booking goes or fans cheer, I just went out and earned it.     The Ronnie Paris of two years ago... heck, of two months ago would be getting all high and mighty about how a "real wrestler" finally had the title, how he could restore his credibility. But all I really care about is keeping this thing [Paris is gesturing down to his waist], and the cash and prestige that goes with it, as long as humanly possible. That means turning Takezo Musashi into a human pretzel in seven days. That means walking up a ladder while he writhes in pain and reclaiming my belt. That means defending American soil, my homeland, where I _fully_ expect to hear some goddamn USA chants for a change! You can take the Enigma's side all you want, but this is not going to be a Pearl Harbor repeat... think Okinawa. Think blood, guts, fighting until one man can't fight anymore. [Paris suddenly reaches to the floor to pick something up just off camera. He brings it up to eye level to reveal a miniature American flag, one of the original design bearing 13 stars in a circle. He waves it as only a patriot can, all the way grinning like a fool.] Of course, just like last time, that one man who can't fight any more won't be American, he'll be Japanese. This one's for you Uncle Sam! [Screaming at the top of his lungs as he points down to the title around his waist.] I DID IT! I DID IT! I DID IT! USA! USA! USA! [Fade away as Paris continues to hop around, shouting out jingoistic slogans.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Rocket Man" Timothy N. Turner ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Timothy Turner wanders into the IIWF interview area. He no longer carries the IIWF Cruiserweight strap but he still has a bit of a grin on his face.] TNT: Well, it had to happen sooner or later. I was beaten at my own game. I manipulated contracts and made demands so that I wouldn't have to defend my title. Spreadbury one upped me though. I asked for a tag match. I got one. I was weaseled into a defense fair and square and then I was pinned. There is one small problem though... [The smile vanishes from his face.] TNT: I WAS NOT THE LEGAL MAN! I never should have lost my title! This is all the fault of one man. [The smile starts to creep back.] TNT: Before I get into that I want to talk about somebody else... Brody Thunder. It seems you've added a little stipulation in your match that you won't wrestle for sixty days if you lose. I guess that's because you'll be too busy hanging your head in shame and crying in your Jack Daniels. Well I've got two words for you, Thunder... don't lose. I never forget, Brody. You challenged the Rocket Man. You've dodged and dodged but I'm still here. Lace 'em up, Brody. I'm ready to rocket to the stars. [The smile vanishes again.] TNT: Speaking of Snow Brawl brings me back to Derek Mota. I no longer have a title because of you. I extended my hand in friendship and you took a bite. You tried to cost Duncan his strap. You did cost me mine and the three of us team up on Saturday. I'm going to work with you Mota. Not because I need you. Duncan and I can handle Annis, Watkins, and Williams without you. No. I'm going to work with you because if you advance to the next faze with Duncan and I... I'm going to make you wish you had never been born. I'm going to beat from buckle to buckle... from bell to bell. You never should have messed with us. You never should have turned your back and me. You never should have been at ringside last week. [Turner turns to go but then stops.] TNT: Mota... expect to hurt. What happened on Saturday is merely an appetizer. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Derek Mota ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Cut to the dressing room area immediately following the Turner/Macbeth vs. Paris/Enigma match. Mota comes limping in several minutes after Turner has given his thoughts, his ankle re-injured once more.] DM: Macbeth... Turner... what are you, a bunch of idiots? I come in to make amends for my mistake, and you beat on me with an iron bar? How many times did I save your titles tonight, huh? Face it Macbeth, you wouldn't be the IC champ anymore if it wasn't for me. And Turner... Well, I tried. I did save ya once, but how many times am I expected ta bail you out? Listen, I'm sorry you lost the title. I made it my mission to make sure I protect my _friends_ from losing their titles this week, and I guess I failed. Ya just gotta think of one thing, boys. Snow Brawl. Do you wanna win it? Do you really? I'm goin' out there on Saturday, and I wanna take it all. When I get into that ring, I'm gonna put out my hand... and you're gonna shake it... and after we've beaten those three losers, I'm gonna put out my hand again... and you're gonna shake it. And then we're gonna fight a clean match, as friends, and the winner's gonna go to the triangle match. And if one of you guys win? There ain't gonna be no bad feelings. But if I win? I want you to understand that I will never do anything... ANYTHING to undermine our friendship. And that's all that matters in the end, isn't it? Yeah. Turner, Macbeth and Mota... For Life... [Mota flashes the camera some sort of screwed up hand signal and then limps off the stage, a look of sadness on his face.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Serge Annis ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The scene shows the backstage of the IIWF Colisseum, during IIWF Saturday Night. Officials race everywhere, trying to get things done in as little time possible. We see several referees standing around a water cooler, taking a breather. "Simply The Best" by Tina Turner is heard very faintly in the background, and the crowd is obviously displeased with something. Sparkplug Lee can barely be heard announcing Ronnie Paris as the new IIWF Cruiserweight champion. The camera pans around to a hallway leading down to the paramedics' section. The 6'8" frame of Serge Annis is seen walking down the hallway, towards the camera. Annis walks by the camera and looks down into it as it passes. Serge does not stop and the camera follows.] SA: Well, Old Dog, in many ways, you got what you wanted. You wanted to piss off Serge Annis. Well, you did that very well. You wanted to start with Serge Annis as a stepping stone on your way back to greatness. You had the chance. But most importantly, Dog, you had one hell of a match! No one else will carry your ass through half the things I did. Because that's the way I like it. If you aren't bleeding by the end of the night, then you obviously didn't do a good job. If you end up being carried away by paramedics... well, then either you just aren't very good... or it means that you are one of the best in what you do. But tonight, Dog... tonight, we didn't need the stretchers. Us both are just too damn stubborn for 'em. [Annis walks around a bend and knocks over an IIWF attendant. Annis doesn't even appologize, or change his look to the camera, as the attendent shouts profanities at Serge.] SA: But you didn't do it. You didn't do what you intended to do. You didn't beat Serge Annis. Now, I will admit, a countout isn't the way I'd like it to end, but a win's a win. But I still hate you, Dog. I can't just forget the things that you said about me. And come Snow Brawl... seven short days away... I'm going to finish the score with you. Sure, we may be on the same side... but sooner or later, we'll have to turn on each other to survive. That's what's it is all about... survival. And Dog, I've had to fight for my right to survive all my life. And now, here in the IIWF, I am not only surviving... but I am thriving. Snow Brawl... one way or another, I'll see to it that you get your neck snapped. I didn't quite finish the job tonight... but you won't exactly be so fortunate at Snow Brawl. [Annis stops, and looks at a dressing room door. The name "MAD DOG WATKINS" is pasted on it. Annis snickers.] SA: You enjoy your little rest dog... you earned it. But at Snow Brawl, The Epitome of Evil is going to put the Dog to sleep... permanently. Heh heh... [The camera man decides that is enough comments from Serge, and stops in front of the door, and does not continue to walk down the hallway. It fades to black as Annis walks down the hallway, laughing an evil, sick laughter.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Mad Dog Watkins ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scene: The shot opens up as usual -- the IIWF Monday Musings backdrop, lights dimmed low, waiting for the appearance of Mad Dog Watkins following his match with Serge Annis. Suddenly, a commotion is heard off camera and the shot cuts to the door leading to the hallway. Yelling and sreaming can be heard, growing louder as if heading this way. Without warning, the door erupts -- the victim of a dented red fire extinguisher that has just been thrown through it. Following the projectile comes the battered, bloddied figure of Mad Dog Watkins. Watkins is still bleeding from a nasty gash on his forehead. The IIWF trainers are trying to get him to come with them, but Watkins is having none of it. "Back away or you'll look worse than me!!" he growls at the men who instantly heed his command. Watkins stumbles across the room, finds a folding chair, and sits it in front of the IIWF banner. Exhausted, he sits down in the chair... chest heaving... and begins to talk...] MDW: Serge Annis... thank you. Thank you for reminding me why I came back to this damn federation. I want a good brawl and you stepped up a delivered. Not bad for a midcarder. I just had to push you...prod you...probe you until I found all of the right buttons to push to make you angry enough to give me what I wanted. It'd be easy to come back to the IIWF and take a squash win in my first match back but that ain't my style. [Watkins reaches up to his forehead and wipes a trickle of blood that was running down his face. He looks at the blood on his fingertips and even stops to lick a little off.] Ain't nothing like the taste of blood to get the predator going. You played right into my hands, Annis. It doesn't matter that I came away with the loss tonight. You see, because even though it'll read an L in the loss column, it's a win for the Mad Dog. Not only did I test you...find out what you were made of...I found out that the Mad Dog's still got it. Hell...you even unleashed a fire that I hadn't felt in months. Too bad for you... [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "To Excess" Rick Williams ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scene opens to the IIWF interview area, where "To Excess" Rick Williams stands, waiting to speak. Gone is the gum-chewing, and the arrogant smirk is nowhere to be seen. Clearly enraged, Williams spits on the floor and attempts to compose himself before he begins to speak.] RW: Is that your idea of a joke, Billy? Jesus Christ, I thought the last thing I'd have to worry about in a match with the IIWF's choirboy would be having the match turn into a farce... How wrong I was. [He shakes his head, and smiles slightly, almost in disbelief.] "The spotlight"? Damnit, _that's_ a great pun... one that perhaps even "King Lear's" Edmund would be proud of, huh Billy? Or maybe he wouldn't care... Maybe he'd be too concerned with the fact that _he's_ undoubtedly the play's most interesting and enjoyable character, yet is forced to endure watching the sad, ageing and pathetic characters of Lear and Gloucester steal more of the _spotlight_ than they deserve. Sound familiar, Billy... You too Marty? [Williams raises a questioning eyebrow, as if to invite a response. With his anger now almost visily subsiding, and arrogance once again rising to the surface, he proceeds.] And what of the Welsh rarebit, himself... Marty Warnett. I know we've never encountered each other before tonight, Marty, but I wanna give you one small piece of advice, which I _know_ you'll find useful... Never interfere in a poker game when it's the Devil's deal... That's one situation you just can't win. And Marty, here's some more advice, no extra charge... Make sure Billy agrees to become your little companion again... because believe me, you might need sombody to watch your back real soon. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Reggie Starr ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Reggie Starr is standing in front of a black IIWF backdrop. Jonathan Chaos is absent.] RS: [laugh] Good job, guys. Good win. I hope you had fun... I did. Say hi to each other... 'cause I sure can't say it to my partner. You'll see. [Fade to black.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Fabulous Ones ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ----------NAGOYA SUN---------- G1: Sports section "FABULOUS ONES battle the Machines at Snow Brawl" by Hirohashi Honda January 17th is the date. The Fabulous Ones do battle with the Machines. In this reporter's opinion it’s an easy victory for the Fabs, however, in the sport of wrestling anything can happen. The Fabs match up pretty well with the Machines, who before the Fabs arrived in the IIWF, were the best team in that area. Now, they seemed to have lost their focus, due to the unbelievable beauty of Ms. Miki, the Fabulous Ones' valet. Is it a match for supremacy of the IIWF tag team division, or a match for Ms. Miki’s charms? The question will be answered at Snow Brawl. On the same night at Snow Brawl the Fabs have a chance at the World tag team champions the Lost Boyz, but unfortunately, they first have to go through the other teams in the IIWF, in a battle royal. The winner of which will get a title shot at the champions on the same night. The problem is, with the hottest feud going in the tag team division happening the same night, after which, can the Fabs withstand the other teams to get a title shot? And, should they do so, will they have enough strength and stamina to go the distance with the Lost Boyz? In this reporter's opinion they can win it all in a marathon night of matches. They have the skill, the ability, the management, and the brains for just such an arduous task. They’re the best that the IIWF have, and they will rise to the occasion. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Machines ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Paul Wong and Simon O'Neal stand in front of the interview area.] SO: The shoe's on the other foot now, Fabs. For once, WE cost YOU the match. Can't blame you, though. Bertha was ready to jump into my lap and take a ride on the O'Neal express... [Paul rolls his eyes and looks disgusted.] PW: Enough, Simon. The Fabulous Ones lost the match. SO: Of course, if the IIWF had any brains, they would have put us on one of the teams in the first place. Let's face it; the Fabulous Ones have the looks, the bodies, and the women. What they don't have is talent. Unlike myself, who has the looks, the body, the women, AND the talent. Oh... and Paul's all right, himself. PW: Gee, thanks for the compliments. SO: Always glad to help you with your little self-esteem problem, buddy. And during Snow Brawl, we're going to take Sho and Agito apart. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Natural Predators ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Standard IIWF backdrop, with the Predators and Kuyler Greyson standing in standard wrestler/manager poses. All are in their trademark outfits, as we know them.] KG: Keep your head in the middle of a war. That's the strategy to stick to in matches like Snow Brawl. B: Or Saturday Night. KG: See, Soundbite, you may tear me down...call me "Jackass" if you like. But my boys had the presence of mind to take a war... GP: And turn it into a win. KG: Now, Snow Brawl coming up...and these two aren't rookies anymore. And one week from today, you'll be looking at new champions and their championship manager. Forget the Lost Boyz. Snow Brawl, you're gonna see that the IIWF is where the Wild Things rule.... [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Charles Scheffield ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The screen fades in on a finely dressed Charles Scheffield. He doesn't seem to be very content.] CS: Well... I'd say Saturday Night showed us just what can be expected at Snow Brawl. I figured from the start we shouldn't have trusted Jim Steele. Optimism is something that normally I learned not to have. For some reason I decided just this one time I would give the Meat a chance... and I have come to the conclusion that we cannot really trust the man. At Snow Brawl, we are just going to have to let things happen as the happen. I do not trust Steele... he may decide that his brother deserves to win over us. I just don't think he can be trusted. Byron, we have to watch our back. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Awesome T ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Camera shot of the locker room. Awesome T steps into camera shot, not in trademark fashion; he has a towel around his waist, and he wears a new IIWF Snow Brawl PPV t-shirt. His hair is wet, and pulled back. Once again, the Down Boys are nowhere to be found.] AT: I'm not going to make excuses tonight, because there's no reason to. When Adam and Danny went out there tonight, they did their job. They fought to the best of their abilities, which for them is pretty high, and they put up a good battle. But remember, Adam and Danny only weigh 457 pounds combined...that's not exactly enough weight to carry some of the biggest stiffs in wrestling. [T pauses for effect] AT: But to be damn honest, I really have no inspiration to speak to y'all tonight. Spreadbury's little joke of a tag team match sucked as bad as I thought it would, but that's okay...the cream will rise to the top at Snow Brawl. [Camera 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+