[Fade through to pre-recorded aerial shots of the Hawaiian islands, a jewel in the Pacific Ocean off the west coast of the United States. Apparently being filmed from a helicopter, the shot swings over the coastline of the island and heads quickly inland over the bustling metropolis of Honolulu, and continues over towards the campus of the University of Hawaii, where a huge open-roofed stadium quickly becomes visible. Cars cram into the parking lot, and people are seen streaming towards the gates ranged around the perimeter of the facility. As the helicopter flies over the top of the stadium, the camera swings downward to show the raked sides of the building are rapidly filling with fans. Suddenly, the opening graphics explode onto the screen:] ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| | || | \ v v / | __| |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| ___________ ______ ______ ____ ___ ___ | ___/| \ | ____\| ____\ F | \ | | | | _| |___| |> /_| |____| |___ _|_|\ \ | | | | \_ ___/| < \_ ___/\_ ___/ O \_____ \| | | | | | | |\ \ | | | | | | \ \ |____| |_____ | | | || | | |____| |____ R | | \ \_____/______/ |/ |/ | | |_____/|_____/ |/ \/ \| Saturday 17 January 1998 Aloha Stadium, Honolulu, Hawaii [Cut to live interior shots of the jam-packed Aloha Stadium, more than fifty thousand fans lining the floor and raked sides of the huge open-air facility. In the centre of the arena is the raised ringside enclosure, a huge scaffolding column in each corner of the enclosure supporting the massive lighting rig above the ring, from which is also suspended a huge chain-link steel cage, and erected above which are four huge video screens, relaying the action to the fans too far away to see for themselves. Cut to a shot from a camera mounted on the rigging, looking straight down at the canvas, on which is silkscreened the Snow Brawl logo. Cut to a wide-angle camera shot, as fireworks rocket up into the hazy January afternoon, huge explosions drawing a massive cheer from the assembled fans. The shot cuts to the broadcast tables in the ringside enclosure, panning past the Japanese, Spanish, French and Guatemalan announcing tables, finally coming to rest on the duo of Tim Dross and "Soundbite" Steve Roberts, both men bedecked in tuxedos, although Roberts also sports a rather unruly and somewhat incongruous growth of facial hair.] TD: Howdy, folks, and welcome to the Free For All ahead of the first pay-per-view spectacular of 1998, Snow Brawl! I'm Tim Dross, and beside me, as always, is my broadcast colleague and tag team partner, "Soundbite" Steve Roberts. It's a balmy seventy-five degrees here in the Aloha Stadium, the sun is shining, and the scene is set for an incredible night of wrestling action. SR: I can't imagine a better place to spend January than Hawaii, Dross. While half the suits are trapped back in the beaver state by an ice-storm, here we are in the sunshine, surrounded by beautiful scenery, beautiful women... I have my biscuits, I have my beard... nothing could be sweeter, Dross. TD: Indeed, some of the IIWF's personnel haven't been able to make the trip to Hawaii for the past few days as the result of Portland's airport being closed due to inclement weather -- but here in Honolulu the conditions couldn't be more perfect. And, folks, we are now just thirty minutes away from the start of the event that will set the tone for the entire professional wrestling industry for the rest of this year. Make no mistake, if it isn't the IIWF, it's just make-believe. SR: Aw, there you go again, Dross, cashing in on the Soundbite. TD: Two matches tonight, folks, will determine the future of this sport. Two matches between four incredible superstars -- men upon whom the title of "legend" may one day be bestowed. SR: "Legend" is just a polite way of saying "has-been" when somebody quits, Dross. TD: I don't think that's entirely fair, Steve Roberts. But tonight, in just a matter of a few short hours, we will see two matches which promise to set the wrestling world on its ear. I am, of course, talking about the Submission Match pitting mat specialist, former Intercontinental Champion "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley, against the unpredictable and unorthodox -- but unquestionably brilliant -- "Sychosys" Joe Petrow. SR: Quigley doesn't even have to bring his tap shoes, Dross -- all he has to do is make like the fat lady and sing, "I Quit!" It's gonna be music to my ears, baby dolls! TD: Chris Quigley has never submitted in his entire career -- the controversial loss of his Intercontinental Championship to Duncan Macbeth a few weeks ago notwithstanding -- and he is determined that those two words will never pass his lips. To both men, you get the feeling that this match is almost more important than life itself. SR: You's always spinnin' the hype, Dross. Plain and simple, Petrow's gonna kick Quigley's ass all over the ring. TD: And in our huge main event, the likes of which we have never seen in the IIWF before, the fate of the most prestigious championship in all the world of wrestling, the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship, will be decided inside a sealed steel cage -- a cell, if you will -- which will be inhabited by two of the greatest stars this sport has seen: the champion, acknowledged as the number one wrestler in the world today, the "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder, and the man who has long been touted as the "Next Big Thing" -- the phenomenal Steve "the Fury" Kowalski. Is tonight going to be the night Kowalski takes his seat atop the professional wrestling world? SR: You betcha, Dross. Thunder's gonna be leaving on a stretcher -- and we're not gonna be seeing his sorry hide for sixty whole days. That's sixty whole days for the Fury to run wild all over the IIWF. I can't wait. TD: The stakes are certainly high in this match. Should Brody Thunder lose, he will leave the IIWF for sixty days. Should Steve Kowalski lose, he will never be permitted to challenge Brody Thunder for any IIWF title ever again. These two men have had three meetings previously -- and in one-on-one competition, there has been nothing to separate them. Kowalski scored a pinfall over Thunder in a three way dance to shockingly win the title just three weeks ago, but Thunder returned the favour seven days later to become the first ever two-time IIWF World Heavyweight Champion. And tonight comes the rubber match. SR: I am rubber, you are glue -- bounces off me and sticks to you. TD: Whatever you say, Steve Roberts. Either way, those two million dollar matches alone would be worth the price of admission -- but there is so much more coming up in just less than half an hour. This is your last chance, folks, to be a part of it live. Call your local cable operator right now to order Snow Brawl. SR: I dunno, Dross -- thirty bucks can go a long way down at the Beaver Trap. A fistful of singles equals hours of fun. TD: You're a depraved man, Steve Roberts. Folks, we'll tell you more about the action coming your way in the first pay-per-view spectacular of 1998 later in the show, and we are also scheduled to hear from not only the IIWF World Tag Team Champions, the Lost Boyz, but also the IIWF World Heavyweight Champion himself, Brody Thunder. On top of that, we have two tremendous matches for you -- so without further ado, let's get up to the ring to get the introductions. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| Steve Manning vs. "Mr. Majestyk" Maurice McArthur |_||_| \_/\_/ |_|.................................................... WRITER: Ryan Howard [Cut to center ring and Sparkplug Lee, dressed casually in a pair of large, baggy citrus orange shorts and a brilliant, multi-coloured Hawaiian style shirt. The lighting fixtures gleam their presence down onto the glossy lens of his huge, bright pink novelty shades.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, let me be the first to welcome you to the 1998 Snooooooow Braaaaaaawl! [The crowd explodes as numerous fireworks explode into the sky, bright montages of red, yellow, green, and purple, along with silver and gold streamers. "Yellow Ledbetter" by Pearl Jam begins to boom throughout the open-spaced arena, the fans cheering loudly as Sparkplug raises the microphone.] SL: Our first contest is one-fall only, introducing first, coming down the aisle accompanied by "Sychosys" Joe Petrow, standing at 6'1", weighing 230lbs, hailing from New England, "Mr. Majestyk" Maurice McArthur! [A people's champion, a man fighting against all odds, McArthur makes his down to the ring side by side with Petrow, both dressed in pant-length, Hawaiian multi-colored "Team Sychosys" trunks. Petrow playing the role of the solemn gentleman, allowing Maurice to have his moment, the spotlight focused on him only, Petrow stopping McArthur in the trek to the ring to point out a sign in the back stating "McArthir's Army", a smile and laugh shared by the duo. Upon reaching the ring, Petrow makes his way around to McArthur's corner, smiling to the crowd and pointing to Maurice with enthusiam as "Mr.Majestyk" warms up in the ring, his music soon cut off by "The Frayed Ends of Sanity" by Metallica.] SR: Okay, now that we got the Grateful Bears situated at the ring, now we get to see the man who's going to win this match come down the aisle. TD: Steve, whatever makes you think Manning is going to win? SR: Are you kidding me, Dross? There are certain things in this universe that will always remain constant! Number one, "Teen Angel" will never be a hit sitcom. Number two, even if you don't pay for the Playboy channel, you may not be able to see it, but you'll always be able to hear it. And number three, jobbers always lose. SL: And his opponent, standing 6' tall and weighing 230lbs, from Phoenix, Arizona, "Sanguinary" Steeeeeeeve Maaaaaaanning! [The crowd begins to boo loudly as Manning suddenly pours forth from about thirty feet above the wrestlers' regular entrance, strapped to a zipline, thousands of cameras flashing with the dramatic entrance. His dirty blond hair flows back as he descends to the ring, his vest rippling with the gust of air as his black trunks become a mere streak. As he nears the ring, one "L'il Soundbiter" stands and points at him, yelling, "It's Sting!"] SR: Now _that_, Dross, is the entrance of a real man! TD: Or someone masquerading as "The Crow"... [McArthur just stares wide-eyed at the oncoming Manning, or at least until he realizes it's too late. At just a few feet up and away from McArthur, Manning detaches his cord, plummeting into McArthur with the force of a charging bull. Quickly pulling his vest off and tossing it over the top rope, Manning mounts the downed McArthur, wasting no time in laying into him with a series of punches to the forehead.] SR: That was either the stupidest thing I have ever seen, or one of the greatest manuevers in the history of this sport... which it is, hell, I have no clue. TD: He was preying on McArthur's lack of experience and he pulled out with a jackpot in his gamble, and now has "Mr. Majestyk" in a very precarious position. [Picking up the still stunned McArthur, Manning wastes no time, levelling him with a pair of vicious chops to the torso and whipping him into the ropes. Showboating a bit, Manning claps his hands together and then literally crushes McArthur upon his return with a huge, tidal spinning powerslam.] TD: Steve Manning appears to be very focused in on this match, having not let one fault of his style be shown as he takes an early jump on McArthur. SR: See, any seasoned wrestler would have found a way to avoid a powerslam so easily set up as that one, but McArthur is going to need a bit more training before matching even close to Manning. [Standing, Manning turns and begins to yell at Petrow, who obviously ignores him as he slams his hand down to the mat, spitting intructions out to the downed McArthur. They apparently have no effect on the match, as Manning follows up a jumping kneedrop to the forehead with a half-Boston, a smile curling his lips as he wrenches back, McArthur scowling in pain.] SR: By the time Manning is done with McArthur, he'll have warped the poor boy's body into a human pretzel! TD: Not with Petrow in McArthur's corner. It'll take a lot to make McArthur submit with that man cheering him on. SR: What are you, soft on McArthur all of a sudden? TD: Well.. not exactly. SR: Uh-huh... well, I'll be watching the tabloids for this one, pal. [Manning continues wrench McArthur's leg back, who is slowly pulling his way to the ropes, the crowd not much behind him, but suddenly coming to life as someone makes his way down the aisle.] SR: Screw McArthur, somebody is coming down the aisle... aw, Quigley, it's Chris Quigley! He's taking a stand in Manning's corner, and look at that glare between him and Petrow! TD: That's right, because remember later tonight, here on Snow Brawl, "Sychosys" Joe Petrow and "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley will be battling it out in a special Submission Match! [Roberts mumbles something along the lines of "You make me sick."] TD: What was that? SR: Uh... I said that I heard Titanic was a pretty good flick... yeah. [Back in the ring, McArthur has already freed himself of the hold, but still under Manning's control as he lays into "Mr. Majestyk" with a series of elbows, ending the combination with lariat off the ropes. Grabbing McArthur by the foot, he drags him to the ropes, draping his foot over the bottom rope, yelling to the crowd before bouncing high off it himself, crushing down on McArthur's leg, a smile curling his lip as he repeats the act, and then again, referee Dave D'Amato making no move to stop him. Apparently finished, Manning falls down to his knees, yelling into his face, the words audible enough to be heard as "Hah, you'll never be anything more than a jobber, you piece of crap!"] TD: How degrading. Manning isn't going to be content with beating McArthur, he's making sure he humiliates the man in front of millions of viewers. SR: Kinda like that "Ellen" season finale, eh? [Slowly drawing McArthur to his feet, Manning attempts to bring McArthur up for a powerbomb, but McArthur stays on his shoulders, the crowd coming to life as he lays into him with a series of fierce punches to the face, until Manning can handle no more and falls, McArthur toppling down onto him, staying for a rather crude looking pin, life coming to Petrow's face, yelling "Yeah, hell yeah!" D'Amato only gives McArthur two counts before Manning pushes him off. Somewhat stunned, Manning rises to his feet only to be blasted in the gut with a kick, McArthur scooping up him up and slamming him down, coming to life afterwards, shaking his fists and jumping around as if he'd one the lottery or something. Manning, his eyes wide, stands, only to be slammed once more, and then again -- but the third time, McArthur hoists him up in a Gorilla Press, the crowd going ecstatic as he drops Manning onto his face.] TD: What a surge of energy from McArthur! What a rally! Who'd have ever thought we'd be seeing this kind of power on the "Majestyk" one's side? SR: Well, if you ask me, IIWF officials should be searching around backstage for Dr. Zehorian, because something tells me McArthur's doing the juice, Dross! [But as soon as it began, McArthur's luck comes to a pass as Manning counters a Dragon Screw leg-whip with a eye gouge and enzuigiri, plastering McArthur in the back of the head with a sickening slapping noise, both men hitting the mat, Manning staying down for a small breather.] SR: See! The drugs are wearing off now! There's the proof that the IIWF is giving their employees drugs! TD: You do realize, now, that you will most likely be fired? SR: See! The IIWF would _never_ give drugs to their wrestlers! Why? They don't need to, because IIWF wrestlers are a step above the rest, the cream of the crop, the... TD: [interrupting] Thanks, Steve. SR: I was just gonna say... TD: Given your track record, don't say _anything_. [The first to stand, Manning pulls McArthur to his feet in suit, hoisting him up and driving him head first into the mat with a jumping piledriver. Sitting on the mat, Manning points a finger to Petrow, shouting something to him before standing, a grin full on his lips, pulling McArthur up to his feet and setting him into a reverse neckbreaker position, but he waits a second too long, for McArthur turns it around, dropping Manning to the mat with a cravat-styled neck cutter move, the crowd exploding upon its execution!] TD: That was it! That cravat-styled neck cutter, dubbed "The Majestifier"! He could win this with a pin, now! SR: I can't believe this, Manning hit the mat hard -- this shouldn't be     happening according the rules that run this universe! [The crowd come to their feet as McArthur slowly makes his way to his feet, shaking off the cobwebs, and taking the very same crane-stance from "The Karate Kid", waiting for Manning to make it to his feet.] SR: He didn't go for the pin! What the hell is this, Dross? TD: I guess this is the special training Joe Petrow was telling us about yesterday -- this is crazy. SR: In the movie, that wicked crane kid broke the blonde kid's nose! TD: Wasn't that Sean Penn? SR: No... his nose was like that when he was born. [Manning finally musters to his feet, and McArthur snaps with the tenacity of a leopard, _completely_ missing the kick, Manning taking this prime advantage to nail him with a kick to the midsection and bury him with the Brainshock.] SR: It's over! McArthur is unconscious in the center of the ring! Count to ten million, that boy won't be waking up 'til tomorrow morning! TD: With an empty bottle of Cuervo and a stinking, wet dog sleeping beside him... alas, I know it all too well. SR: Whoa, steady there, brother Dross! [Manning doesn't take the pin, though, instead he pulls McArthur to center ring and locks on a figure four, "Mr. Majestyk" writhing in pain, submitting near instantly as Dave D'Amato calls for the bell, though Manning will not let up.] SR: We got the bell, Manning takes it by submission, but he won't let go! He's going to humiliate McArthur! [Petrow, having had enough of his future patner being abused, makes an attempt to enter the ring, but Quigley pulls him down from the apron, throwing him into the guardrail. Moving over a stunned Petrow, he locks on his own figure four as officials pour down the aisle, that crazy ring attendant ringing away at the bell.] TD: Here come the officials to break it up, they're pulling Manning off McArthur, taking them to different sides of the ring. SR: Ha! They're just now getting to Petrow, but are having a hard time getting Quigley to take off that figure four! And they have that submission match tonight too! I hope nobody backstage tells him to break a leg! [Quigley is escorted from the ring area, and as the officials move Manning along, he breaks free in a mad dash and grabs the ring bell, knocking over a few officials in his run to McArthur, still being helped up, bringing the bell down upon his lower knee, before six of the IIWF's finest tackle him to the ground.] SR: I think he just could have very well broken McArthur's leg into many fine, miniscule bone fragments with that one! Look at the anguish on Maurice's face -- he's been in more pain than ever before, and worse, he's being humiliated! TD: Poor Maurice. It's just sickening... here comes Petrow. [Petrow, apparently unhindered by the figure four provided by Chris Quigley, helps up his comrade, who recieves a loud, ultra-face pop as the duo leaves the ring area, McArthur unable to put any weight upon his injured knee. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: Well, it looks like poor Maurice has sustained a nasty injury in that match -- so his active participation in tonight's action may be over. But a surprisingly adept performance from McArthur nonetheless, Steve Roberts. SR: Once a jobber, always a jobber, Dross. How long's it gonna be before Quigley realises that? TD: Indeed, one could almost palpably feel the tension between Joe Petrow and Chris Quigley, and in just a couple of hours, they will lock up in the ring for what should be another history-making match -- only here in the IIWF. SR: Holy smoke, Dross, are you wearing your hype hat tonight?! TD: Folks, we're now just fifteen minutes away from the start of the big pay-per-view itself, and what action is coming your way. Snow Brawl, of course, wouldn't be Snow Brawl without those Lethal Lottery matches... and this year is no exception. We'll see six-man tag team action comprising randomly drawn teams -- we'll see enemies on the same side, we'll see allies face one another -- until one member of one of the three-man teams has been pinned... and thereafter the three members of the victorious team must turn on one another in elimination style until there is just one man standing. SR: My head's a-spinnin', Dross. So dizzy. TD: The three survivors of those three matches will then move on to the final triangle match, the eventual winner of which is declared the King of Snow Brawl -- and will win the right to challenge any wrestler in the IIWF throughout the month of February. The possibilities here are endless, folks. Any one of the eighteen participants in the Lethal Lottery could go on to become the King of Snow Brawl. It could be an established superstar -- Lord Byron, the Deathbringer, Serge Annis, or many others -- or it could be an up and coming talent who gets his breakthrough -- Christopher Stonebreaker, Richard "Moxy" Blue, Shadoe Rage, Charles Scheffield. SR: Or maybe the Meatguy, Dross. The Soundbite loves that crazy guy, swingin' those prime cuts and spare ribs all over the place. TD: Indeed. Any one of those eighteen men could come out of the Lethal Lottery with the guarantee of being able to challenge anybody in the IIWF throughout the month of February. And there's tremendous singles action as two long-time friends, Billy Shakespeare and Marty Warnett, square off one-on-one in a match that both hoped they would never have to wrestle. SR: Don't forget the new IIWF Cruiserweight Champion and charter member of the Soundbite Special Forces, Ronnie Paris, Dross! TD: Indeed, an absolutely spectacular match in prospect later tonight as Ronnie Paris, just seven days into his reign as the new Cruiserweight Champion of the world, faces long-time nemesis the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi in a Ladder Match for the title. This one has "show-stealer" written all over it, folks. And Snow Brawl is historically a good event for Musashi -- at last year's event, he captured the Cruiserweight Championship for the first time. Will history repeat itself here tonight? SR: No way, Dross. That crazy Laotian guy... TD: ...Japanese... SR: ...can paint himself up with as many pentagrams and symbols as he likes, but ain't nobody tougher than the Soundbite Special Forces. Paris will have those four guards and that half-ton of Samoan muscle to watch his back. TD: It's going to be a tremendous contest, that's for sure. On top of that, we'll see a battle royal featuring every single tag team in the IIWF -- although that may not now include Team Sychosys with Maurice McArthur's injury just minutes ago -- as they fight for the right to face the Lost Boyz for the tag team titles later in the evening. Speaking of the World Tag Team Champions, we're scheduled to go to an interview with them now. [Cut to the Lost Boyz standing in front of an IIWF logo. All three are wearing black t-shirts that read: THE LOST BOYZ IIWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS ACCEPT NO *&%@ING IMITATIONS Jeandra has her long hair in braids while Ramos' goatee has grown quite a bit.] JE: You people enjoy last week? You enjoy the show they put on... or should I say, the HURT we put on? Good. Glad you liked it. Because there's more of it. Lots more. That's how we get rid of unneeded aggression and frustration. AP: But Jeandra, we're the REAL IIWF World Tag Team Champions! Why in the world [winks] would we be frustrated with anything or anybody? JE: Glad you asked the question. It's because we're REAL disappointed. See, when we came here in IIWF, we started off against some real good competition. Teams like The Machines and The Prophets of Rage and Cold Spell and even the Cold Quins cut right to the chase. They all had interesting perspectives on things and honestly, some of 'em spoke a bit too much, but ya know what? It was all good. AP: But ever since we won these damn belts, the rest of the teams in the IIWF showed up, and since then have been trying to turn this damn fed into a circus. Let me tell you something, we ain't in Stamford and we ain't in Atlanta. This is supposed to be the ALMIGHTY IIWF! So tell me, all you top notch tag teams... how do you suppose you get recognition around here? Ya go around in bad outfits with ugly girls and imitate what you can't be? What you can't achieve? Really, IIWF, is that the best you can do? Is that the best this damn fed has to offer? JE: The Fabulous Ones. Every damn week it's another Japanese article claiming they're the best thing to happen that's Japanese since Honda. Every damn week it's, "The Lost Boys is our favorite movie" And let's not forget last week. Nice side show, boys. First off, the name "Fabulous Ones", real [BLEEP]ing original. Took you a long damn time to come up with that one, right? AP & ER: THE FABULOUS ONES ARE OUR FAVORITE TAG TEAM!!! JE: Yeah, right... they sucked, and so did the movie "The Lost Boys." The damn movie ain't got nothing to do with us. Get a life. AP: But it don't stop there! Then they figure, they can piss us off by imitating us! JE: If you think imitating us is going to make us take you seriously... think again. Think hard, if it's possible for the three of you clowns. I don't even really CARE if you guys are homosexuals or not, but so far you've proven that you're just stupid. AP: But let's not forget the cream of the crop. The top of the line... the BEST TAG TEAM IN IIWF, THE WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS... DAMAGE INC.! [Porteaux starts clapping while Ramos and Jeandra look at him like he is a complete idiot.] AP: My thoughts exactly. It's like I said last time, I got a sense of humor... I can laugh. Hell, when I need to laugh, I'll watch Eddie Murphy. Or better yet, I'll watch Awesome T get in front of the camera crying that his team can't get any respect... JE: ...or can't get ANY for that matter... AP: ...hey Awesome T, have you actually NOTICED what you have your team's DOING, pal?! You dress them up and have them imitate somebody else. You have them make fools of themselves every damn week. And then you wonder why they can't win? It's because they suck and, frankly, so do you. I'm so sorry to have to tell you this. But what pains me even more is, a team that is so EMBARRASSED to be who they are that they have to IMITATE someone else is a GODDAMNED RANKED TEAM IN THIS FED! JE: Is THIS what the mighty IIWF has to offer in top tag teams? [shakes head] What WERE we thinking? ER: Hey now, don't jump to conclusions. Don't forget the Natural Predators. AP: We ain't forget about 'em. Hell, I'm actually hoping they win the damn battle royal tonight. Because it's _there_ the real teams and the real athletes shine. It's _there_ all this garbage, goofy [BLEEP] stops and the fake ones get separated from the real ones. And right now, the Predators are one of the few teams we can take seriously. Down Boys and Fabulous Ones? Whatever. Now the Predators need a few personality lessons themselves but shoot, it all comes in good time, right? But face it, they're the best thing going besides us, and luckily, that's pretty DAMN good. Predators, good luck. We mean it. But for the rest of you punks, get the point right here right now: WE DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU UNTIL YOU TAKE YOUR [BLEEP]ING SELVES SERIOUSLY! JE: Honestly, IIWF, this [BLEEP] has got to stop. Enough of the circus fanfare. You teams wanna get a laugh? Watch Comedy Central. We're here to face real competition. SERIOUS competition. Any laughing boys want to get involved, watch last week's tape, so that you know what will happen to them. So keep that in mind, IIWF. Fix all this bull[BLEEP], nice and quick. And don't forget, IIWF... get a life. [The Lost Boyz walk out of the frame. Cut back to the broadcast table in the ringside enclosure.] TD: Tough words for the rest of the tag team division from the Lost Boyz there, Steve Roberts. SR: Okay, so let's see them follow it up in the ring, Dross. Just a whole buncha gay guys talking trash to one another... where's the action? TD: If it's action you're looking for, you're going to get a whole lot of action when the tag team battle royal gets underway. Some twenty or so wrestlers in the ring at once -- it's going to be a war. Two teams who will compete in that battle royal meet now to try and settle old scores. The Machines and the Fabulous Ones have been at each others' throats since the Fabulous Ones arrived in the IIWF after Ring Wars IV -- and it's all going to come to a head right now! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| SETTLING OLD SCORES: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| The Machines vs. The Fabulous Ones ....................................................................... WRITER: Andre Dec TD: What the hell...? [“Little Miss Dangerous” by Ted Nugent burst through the PA system.  Ms. Miki, likewise, bursts through the curtains wearing a Tri’Cia original, red satin oriental styled mini-dress.  The mini-dress has a high neckline, to the men in attendance chagrin, with white ties going down the middle and covered in gold dragon embroidery.  The bottom of the dress hangs down mid-thigh on her legs.  On the front left leg is a four inch slit.  She has on red satin, open toe shoes, and an ankle strap, with a gold dragon buckle.  By the applause from the crowd Ms. Miki, apparently, picked the correct outfit for this pay-per-view.  Sparkplug Lee hands the microphone to Ms. Miki.] SR: Looks like the tart du jour has something to say... watch... "Oh Soundbite, what a night we had...." TD: You are totally acidic tonight... SR: Nah... Just as base as ever. MM: Konnichiwa, Honolulu!  [The crowd lets loose a huge pop.]  I’m Ms. Miki, and I’m here to usher in a new era in the IIWF... the era of     dominance for my associates whom will be out in just a moment.     First, ladies, I’d like to give you a warning.  Yes, I know that people here in Hawaii... [The crowd roars up again with the mention     of their homeland.] ...believe themselves better than the Americans, but when it comes to the presence of these next two awesome specimens, you’ll find yourselves falling prey to what I like to call eye-candy syndrome.  [Crowd erupts into boos.] TD: Obviously she hasn't got this "Crowd warming" down pat just yet... SR: Obviously. MM: Now, ladies, you’ve got to realize that you can’t always have what you want.  The percentage of the fans that want them to the percentage that gets to be with them is very small.  They are, after all, only two human beings, though perfect in every way, yet still human. [The L'il Soundbiters laugh raucously at this, while the camera zooms in on a young man wearing a Simon O'Neal t-shirt] MM: So, don’t get rid of your overweight, non-dancing, channel-clicking king, waste of humanity husband or boyfriend, for a shot at this, because your chances aren’t good.  Instead, get your cameras ready, and at home, get those VCRs set, because here they come.  They hail from the Land of the Rising Sun, Nagoya, Japan.  They weigh in at a combined weight of 525, oh so delicious pounds.  They are every geneticist’s dream of the perfect human being.  Here are what every man wants to be, and every woman wants to be with... ”The Universal     Heart throb” Agito Nakajima and ”Sweet” Sho Satsuma, the FABULOUS ONES! [The lights go out, as half of the crowd applauds.  The other begin to boo loudly as  Dokken’s “Kiss of Death” plays.  A spotlight shines on the entrance way as Agito, wearing his black silk, oriental styled robe, with ties going down the middle, and Sho, with his black tuxedo jacket with tails, step into the light.  The crowd, mostly the women, give a huge pop to the duo.  Agito walks towards the ring, while Sho spins in a circle then stops and poses.  Flashbulbs go off from the fans near the railing. Agito enters the ring as the lights come back on.  Sho makes his way to the ring finally, only stopping once to rip up a “Machines rulez” sign. When he finally enters the ring, Agito takes off his robe, very teasingly, and starts to pose.  Sho rushes over to Ms. Miki and takes the microphone as the music stops.] SS: I saw his once on television and said to myself, if he can do it, I bet I can do it better.  So, here goes. [Ms. Miki and Agito stand off in one of the corners as Sho speaks.] SS: [smiling] I’m “Sweet”, and all the girls think I’m neat, because I’m such a treat for the eyes.  All the ladies know it isn’t a lie, because nobody’s as “Sweet” as I! [Sho laughs loudly, while slapping his knee, and handing the microphone to Sparkplug.  Ms. Miki exits the ring as Agito and Sho prepare for a war.] SR: [rapping] Watch these two act just like 'tards, victory ain't in the cards. TD: So you're actually siding with the Machines? SR: Gay Boys vs. O'Neal and Sublime. No doubt in my mind.... TD: "Sublime"? SR: # Strong if I can, but I am only a man and I'll take it as I can in     the Wong way... # TD: Ouch. [Sparkplug Lee takes the mike back, as Sho and Agito prepare] SL: And their opponents... from Denver, Colorado and Cleveland, Ohio,     respectively... weighing in at a combined 503 lbs... Paul Wong and     Simon O'Neal... the MACHINES! [The crowd begins to cheer loudly as the Mahcines sally forth to "Welcome to the Machine" by Pink Floyd. Simon O'Neal walks down the aisle, with Paul Wong a step behind.  Each man is wearing his fedora and sunglasses, and for once each man looks intensely towards the ring, without their usual arguing.  They enter the ring, and stare across the ring at the Fabulous Ones.  Simon borrows the microhpone from Sparkplug Lee, and points it at Sho.] SO: This is it.  No more games.  But you know, there's a soft spot in     my heart for Bertha.  And just between you and me... [In mid-sentence, Simon wraps the microhpone cord around Sho's throat, starting to choke him out.  Paul and Agito start brawling, and the match is underway.] TD: Obviously we have a pat in the ring... SR: No, obviously, we have a PRAT in the ring... # Sho me the way to go     home... I'm tired and I want to go to bed... # [Simon O'Neal, not content to merely choke Sho, lays a series of fierce boots to his midsection before literally dragging him off his feet by the microphone cord. Sho rolls outside the ring, O'Neal following him quickly, as Paul Wong, showing the most life he has in weeks, picks Agito up from a collar and elbow tie up and flings him halfway across the ring.] TD: The fans seem to love the Machines tonight! SR: Well, look at it this way... Hawaiians are very beautiful people,     physically and emotionally... TD: I do believe Soundbite is having a Hallmark moment... SR: When these two yapping dogs, Sho and Agitate, belittle them. Believe     me, I knew the Fabulous Ones... I wrestled the Fabulous Ones... and     these guys are _not_ the Fabulous Ones. Patsy and Edina could whoop their pretty boy asses. And Big Bad Buffalo Bertha too... TD: Wong with a press slam here, and Agito is REALLY having a hard time     in the ring... meanwhile... oh my goodness! [Dross is cut off as O'Neal, in a HUGE rage, slams Sho's head against the broadcasting table. He laughs, pointing at Ms. Miki, mimicking Sho's flexing, and hops up to his corner.] SR: That's it, Miki... bend a little lower... give Daddy Soundbite a glimpse. TD: Are you always like this? SR: Why do you think they gave me tenure? TD: Wong now tags in O'Neal, who leaps over the top rope, tackling Agito     as Wong knocks out his legs! Machines showing some of their old     fire! SR: I gotta admit, if O'Neal dragged this out of Wong, he might be ok... [Agito rams a thumb into Simon O'Neal's eye and woozily lifts him in a spinebuster. Both men are a little disoriented after this, but O'Neal is the first up] TD: O'Neal just laying into the Power man of the Fabs... SR: Don't say it like that! The AbFabs might think you were making a     proposition, sweety darling.... TD: What? SR: AbFabs, Dross... get caught up on your pop culture... Look at O'Neal     go! If he were to start hanging around Ronnie Paris, they'd be damn     indestructible! TD: As Agito hits the headbutt and rolls to make the tag here to Sweet     Sho, I have to concur... we have a lot to come tonight in Snow     Brawl... SR: Including the gay guy battle royal... think Damaged Goods, or Down     Syndrome, whoever they are this week, stand a chance? TD: They are exceptional athletes... SR: ...and tiny with it. [Sho and O'Neal stand back and watch each other from across the ring... they lock up and Sho hiptosses O'Neal, smiling to the crowd...] TD: What the hell is he doing? SR: Looks like a Flare imitation... WHOOO! Does he think he is? TD: The Nagoya Strut... and he flips off O'Neal! Lockup, and another     hiptoss here! SR: O'Neal back up... why the hell is that idiot strutting? TD: And O'Neal FLATTENS him with a clothesline... SR: Looks like Sho got shown the mat... he did a full flip from the force of that, landed face first... TD: And now O'Neal is flipping off Miki! This is terrible! SR: Even Wong not too keen on this... Wong tagged in, and he is quick to     lift Sho to his feet... Suplex? TD: Shoulder breaker here... and a pin... Two count and Miki is begging     her men to get organized here... and a small package by Sho! Two     count, and the match is heating up.... SR: Wonder how Sweet Miki likes her oil rubs... heated up? TD: No doubt. [Sho, desperate for a way out, rolls through Wong's legs, catching his hands from underneath and flipping him down with a boot... he taps his head, but as he turns is met by a running lariat from O'Neal, and soon it turns into a four man brawl] SR: Whee... another brawl... wow. TD: Looks like the referee is pushing O'Neal out... [Sho claps his hands over his head, and in comes Agito.] SR: Old trick, but a goodie... the ref didn't see it, but heard it, so     the tag takes place... and O'Neal is pissed off... TD: Wong and Agito matching strengths here, and Agito boots him in the     gut, setting him for a... snap suplex! SR: Pin, but not even a one count... Wong is too rested... [WHUNK! The sound of a steel chair hitting Sho in the back outside the ring as Simon O'Neal slams him down to the ground echoes through the arena... the referee turns, only to see Sho no longer on the apron, but Wong tackles the legs of Agito, shifting his attention back, and a single leg lock is applied by Wong... Agito, looking fresh, refuses to submit as O'Neal pulls out his glove and...] SR: Laying into the pretty boy with that glove... I think he might have opened a cut on his forehead! Bleed, freak, bleed! [As if on cue, the L'il Soundbiters launch into a chant of: "BLEED, ABFAB, BLEED!"] TD: Ms. Miki trying to restore some order here... Simon just pounding     and... SR: She just grabbed his hair! TD: This does not look good... Sho still woozy, and in the ring the     leglock still holding Agito! SR: He just shoved her down! [Crowd begins to boo O'Neal loudly, while echoes of some men thorugh the place echo "The bitch deserved it"... crowd response obviously a confused pop.] TD: What's he doing? SR: "Disgusting Gestures 101" homework... not bad, Simon, but you gotta     make sure the spread is wide enough but not too wide... make it     realistic... TD: Wong releasing Agito, telling O'Neal to stop! SR: O'Neal just following her along... Sho coming to his feet and     walking up behind him... And Wong just stops yelling. Good boy! Pin     him! TD: O'Neal nails Sho in the face again... he's grabbing Ms. Miki by the wrist, pulling her to her feet... what's he going to do? SR: Strip her! Strip her! [On cue, yet again, the L'il Soundbiters chant: "STRIP HER! STRIP HER! STRIP HER!"] TD: He just threw her back down again! He's making the move to his     corner.... SR: Damn. Though I was going to see some skank, but choice, ass... TD: You are an ass, Steve. SR: Aww... and here I thought you didn't like me... gimme a hug, big buddy! This is a Hallmark moment! TD: Enough already. O'Neal begging for the tag, Agito clutching his leg... What the...? [Baffled pop from the crowd as Paul Wong nails Simon O'Neal with a left hand, then walks out of the ring, watching him. O'Neal, confused, does not see Agito rise to his feet, unharmed, to nail him from behind with a running lariat... he then rolls him up in a reverse sunset flip! The referee drops to make the count: 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] SR: He's got the three count! TD: What a turn of events... SR: Gay Guys double teaming O'Neal! [Agito and Sho both attack with pure hatred on Simon O'Neal as paul Wong just stands and watches] TD: Why is no one coming to help him? SR: Guess Wong's got bored of him, and no one wants to risk a fine... or suspension... TD: This is brutal! [Wong finally enters the ring, grabbing Agito by the shoulder and pulling him off, soon doing the same to Sho. They look at him venomously as he tensely speaks... the words are caught by the mic:] PW: That's enough... you won. Let it go. [Wong looks down at his partner.]     I'm sorry, Simon... TD: The Fabs leavig the ring... the fans not sure what to make of     this -- half of them cheering, half booing -- and Paul Wong with them! SR: Oh, no, don't tell me he did this over a dame.... [The fabs walk up the aisle, laughing, as Paul Wong, moonstruck, walks back arm in arm with Ms. Miki.] TD: What a let-down... Simon O'Neal needs medical help here! SR: Rule one: forget dames until after the match. O'Neal didn't and it cost him a partner... Wong didn't, and it's going to cost him a bundle in insurance.... TD: What a turn of events -- only here at Snow Brawl, folks! SR: Just think... otherwise you have to wait until Monday to find out who won what or who hates who. All this for $29.95... best bargain this side of Vicki Von Edwards. TD: Oh, please, Steve Roberts. [The official helps the groggy Simon O'Neal to his feet and assists him from the ring, the crowd giving the fallen Machine a sympathetic round of applause as he hobbles up the aisle. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: Only a matter of a few minutes now separate us from the action of Snow Brawl, folks. But before we hit our huge pay-per-view spectacular, we're scheduled to get comments from the IIWF World Heavyweight Champion -- the "Lone Wolf" himself, Brody Thunder. If you'll excuse me, Steve Roberts. [Dross leaves the broadcast table and makes his way up the steps into the ring, clutching a microphone. The excited fans give Dross a big pop as he stands before them, a smile on his face. Poutine Janois also enters the ring from ringside, having just made his way down the aisle.] TD: Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you the head of the IIWF Special Concerns Committee -- Mr. Poutine Janois! [The French-Canadian waves to the crowd, who give him a polite round of applause.] TD: Ladies and gentlemen, later tonight, two men will step inside a twenty foot enclosed steel cage for a match the likes of which we have never seen in the history of the IIWF. One man is the only Triple Crown winner in this league's history -- he is the man many have called the "Next Big Thing"... [Dross is drowned out by chants of "Skull-pump! Skull-pump!". He waits for the noise to subside.] ...and the other man is the only two-time IIWF World Heavyweight Champion in history. Their rivalry has been legendary, but tonight it will all come to an end. Please welcome the IIWF Champion... please welcome... the "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder! [Thunder storms out from the curtain at the top of the aisle and heads towards the ring. He's dressed in faded blue jeans, black cowboy boots and hat, with a black button-down shirt. His trademark cigar smolders, clenched between his teeth. Slung over his left shoulder is the IIWF World Title belt. He enters the ring and slowly walks towards Tim Dross and Poutine Janois. The in-ring camera catches a sarcastic smirk on Thunder's face as he takes his place in the center of the ring.] TD: Mr. Thunder, later tonight you're going to face what many in this sport believe to be the toughest challenge you've faced here in the IIWF. In fact, _many_ people say that tonight may be the end of the "Lone Wolf's" IIWF career. Tonight you've got Steve "The Fury" Kowalski... [Big Fury pop! Thunder looks around and shakes his head with disgust.]     ...inside a twenty foot high, fully enclosed steel cage. There's only one way in -- and no way out. The World title belt will be suspended from the top of the cage and the winner will be the first man to reach it and land on his feet. It is a match which could very well end either one, or both, of your careers. I'd like to get your thoughts on this match tonight. [Thunder rubs his jaw and then dumps the ash off the end of his cigar.] BT: A cage match. A cage _fully_ enclosed. One way in. No way out. Heh heh heh... now that's my kinda fight, Dross. See, I ain't no stranger ta the steel. I've had my melon busted open from the steel. I've had the flesh torn off my back from the steel. An' tonight there's not a thing in this flamin' world that's gonna be able ta save Kowalski... [Thunder admires the cigar then looks into the camera and smiles.]     ...from the steel. [He places the cigar back between his teeth. He looks over at Poutine.]       I suppose yer out here ta take this strap fer the cage, eh? [Poutine nods and steps forward, reaching his hand out to accept the belt from Thunder. The smile widens on the big cowboy's face.]     Jus' back the hell up, hoss. I give ya this belt when I'm good'n ready. Right now though I want to address my opponent so, Dross,     I know yer the original ninety-five pound weaklin', but see if ya     can muster up enough strength ta hold that stick up here so's I can talk. If ya can't, then jus' hand the flamin' thing over ta me an' shuddup. An' don't be tryin' ta rap me up or cut me off, either.     [Tim rolls his eyes and raises the mic slightly higher to the rugged Arizonan.] TD: How's this? BT: Get smart with me an' you'll be pickin' up them chiclets ya call     teeth up offa this mat. Now hold it up here. Tanight, the Wolf is     a member o' the postal service. An' tonight I got me an important message ta deliver. A message fer you, Kowalski. [Big pop!]     Tonight ain't jus' another match. Tonight's the night I silence alla them armchair wrestlers an' critics who seem ta think yer somethin' special. I seen ya li'l video ya put together last night. Talkin' bout how ya gambled with me an' now ya got one last hand ta play. Well, like that ol' song says, ace, ya gotta know when ta hold 'em an' ya gotta know when ta fold 'em. When that cage door slams shut, it's jus' you an' me, Kowalski. No one can get in... an' you ain't gettin' out.     Least ways, not as champeen -- or conscious.     This ain't no gamble fer me. This here's the reason I got inta this business. The competition. The blood an' sweat. The feelin' o' knowin' yer the best there is at yer profession. I've worked hard ta get where I am today, ace, an' ain't no way I'm lettin' some runt with an' attitude an' a drinkin' problem waltz in an' take that away. Ya say yer in a gamble? Ya think the stakes are high? Ya think you've got the winnin' hand? Mebbe ya think yer runnin' the game? Well, friend, lemme jus' tell ya a li'l somethin' 'bout playin' cards that yer pappy shoulda told ya. Y'see, ya can't be the dealer, son... [Thunder leans into the camera. His smile disappears, only to be replaced by a cold hard stare.]     ...unless yer holdin' _all_ the cards. [Thunder pushes Tim Dross's arm aside and throws the championship belt at Poutine's feet. As he tosses it, he says to Poutine, "Take good care o' it. I'll be back to pick it up later, runt." Thunder then exits the ring, walking back up the aisle to a mixed response from the crowd, while Dross returns to the broadcast table. Janois picks up the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship belt and holds it aloft for the fans to see, and they give a big pop! Cut back to Dross and Roberts at the broadcast table.] TD: That is one determined individual, Steve Roberts -- and arguably the finest champion this organisation has ever seen. SR: Don't give me that, Dross. Thunder had better make all his little speeches now, because after his match later tonight, that jaw's gonna have to be wired shut. Count on it. TD: Folks, we are now just moments away from the pay-per-view that will blaze the trail for everybody else to follow. In the next three hours we will find out who will be the King of Snow Brawl, we will see all four of the IIWF's championships defended, we will see friends square off and enemies partnering each other. We will see Ronnie Paris and the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi battle it out in a Ladder Match. We will see Joe Petrow and Chris Quigley, two men who have never said "I quit!" in their entire careers, in a Submission Match. And we will see the number one wrestler in the world today, the "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder, and the man who would be king, Steve "the Fury" Kowalski, square off inside a cage for a match which has not only the biggest prize in professional wrestling, the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship, on the line -- but could be Brody Thunder's last match in the IIWF for sixty days. It is Snow Brawl, folks, and it is not too late to call your local cable operator! SR: Make that call, morons. Make it now. TD: This is it, folks. Twelve incredible matches -- more than forty IIWF superstars -- it is Snow Brawl, and it is less than sixty seconds away! [Sparkplug Lee is once again in the ring, making his traditional countdown to the beginning of the pay-per-view, the fifty-plus thousand fans chanting along with him, huge numbers zooming across the four massive video screens above the ring. Cut to a wide-angle view of the Aloha Stadium, the IIWF blimp hovering in the clear sky above. 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+