________      __ ___                           | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|                           | || | \ v  v / | __|                           |_||_|  \_/\_/  |_|                         __ __       __ _______   __                  |    //_  / | /| //_ /__   / | /__|\__/                  | / //   /  // |//      \ /  //   /  /                  |/|//__ /__//  //_______//__//   /__/                        ___  ___      ___   ________                  |    //__| /__\     /__\  /  //  //|/|                  | / //   //   \    /   \ /  //  // / |                  |/|//   //    /   /    //__//__//    |                  --------------------------------------                  War Memorial, Fort Lauderdale, Florida                        Wednesday 11 February, 1998 [Scene comes up on a beach, mostly empty, in the fair but not overly warm weather in Sunny Florida. Dave Bacon sits in a deck chair on the beach, dressed in a casual shirt and jeans, while Larry Morton is dressed in a full length, 1890's style swimsuit. Larry looks over at the cameraman, smiling, while Dave shakes his head and flips through a few papers.] LM: Welcome to the special swimsuit edition of the War Room... I'm your host, Larry Morton, and... DB: Co-host. Face it, Morton, you don't have any sort of pull here. LM: ...and my co-host... DB: The host. Dave Bacon. Look, Morton, I got something to say before we start. First off, Morton, I'm tired of playing to your theatrics, thanks very much. And for the fans, these are my scouting reports, the stuff I toil hours and hours over to know these guys inside and out. [Tears the papers in half.] You don't wanna hear about it. You just want to see big guys beating each other up. So that's the sort of info I'm gonna give you from now on. And this show is perfect for that, since you'll see lots of guys who deserve being rammed into a steel post more often than not. [A familiar female voice is heard in the background.] BL: Really, Bacon? And here I thought you were just worried that I was back. [Dressed, despite the weather, in a dental-floss like bikini covering the essentials but not much else, is everyone's favorite absentee announcer, Becky LaRue. She enters behind Morton, tipping him out of his chair, and stretching luxuriously.] DB: Well, well, if it isn't Steve Roberts in drag. LM: I wouldn't say anything to rile her up, Dave. DB: Of course not. You're spineless, Morton. And I give as good as I get. BL: Really...? Well you got no talent, no skill, and no fan following. What can you "give" to me? DB: Well, certainly not a seafood dinner. For $12.95, any guy can go out with you and have all the crabs he can eat... LM: Er...let's go straightaway to the matches... -------------------------------------- Simon O'Neal vs. The Masked Terror (J) -------------------------------------- Simon O'Neal's debut as a singles wrestler set him to face the masked representative of the JJS. O'Neal was no less than vicious throughout the match, levelling the Terror with angry chokes, clotheslines, rope garrotes and piledrivers. Surprisingly, the Terror made a strong comeback, with reverse knife edge chops and a series of corner bulldog manuevers. In the end though, Simon O'Neal landed a solid kick to the midsection and hit the spinning Neckbreaker for the three count. WINNER: Simon O'Neal, by Pinfall, 4:23 [Cut back to the beach, Becky sitting on the sand, pouting:] BL: O'Neal did well for his first solo match. He always looked better in the ring... and out... than Paul Wong. DB: O'Neal had trouble though from a resurgent Terror. This means one of two things. He's either not as good as he thinks, or the Terror has been spending more time analyzing the wrestling styles of the IIWF superstars. BL: Terror is a loser... why are you taking his side? DB: Because he could have beat O'Neal in a day that proved to be rather surprising all around. BL: Blow it out your airhole. [Bacon and LaRue look on the verge of blows as Morton motions for the camera to follow him.] LM: Let's go to the next clip while these two try and argue it out... -------------------------------------------- "Demon" Damien Lestat vs. El Super Gecko (J) -------------------------------------------- This match was a strange one. Lestat from the start didn't seem to care whether or not he won the match, so long as he made an impression. After defeating Richard "Moxy" Blue in his debut match, this match was just plain violent. The saying "You can't hurt the gecko" proved true, though stunning him with chops, throat shots, eye gouges, and face rakes. Mr. Coolie, the cooler of LeStat  came into play in more than one way in this match as the action tumbled to the outside after a Lestat cross body bock carried both men over the top rope. Lestat DDTed the Gecko onto Mr. Coolie, and the 4,000+ crowd collectively screamed as he opened the cooler to reveal it filled with El Super's namesake. After flinging Hugo Hugo aside, he proceeded to try and force feed the Gecko a gecko, while the others ran free through the auditorium, before security was able to pull him away. The sight of an unconscious El Super with a gecko lizard sitting confused in his mouth explained the match. WINNER: El Super Gecko by DQ, 3:13 [Cut back to Larry, standing alone in his ludicrous suit while Becky and Dave continue to argue in the background:] LM: I guess the best... uh... way to describe this would be a shock... yeah, a shock... Lestat seems to want to hurt more than win... and that, well... that might make him a name here... but I dunno. We had a surprise win for the JJS member, El Super Gecko, who unfortunately was speechless afterwards due to a lizard tail caught in his throat... he will be fine... but there's no doubt he won't want to face Lestat anytime soon. ---------------------------------------------- SIX-MAN TAG TEAM ACTION: Harlequins Tragedy, Chaos & Terror vs. The Barnacle Brothers & "Nifty" Ned Norton [J] ---------------------------------------------- Nifty Ned arrived to the ring first, before the Barnacles, whose smell was exceptionally ripe this evening...Ned insisted on starting merely to get away from the decaying duo...when the Harlequins arrived at ringside, they did so en masse, with all five (Tragedy, Comedy, Melody, Terror, and Chaos) posturing to the crowd. The family atmosphere and skilled teamwork off the brothers and cousin showed no discord whatsoever, and Ned Norton was overwhelmed from the start. Tragedy made a big deal out of wearing Deathbringer's mask, and parodied the former champion by wrestling Bluto with the mask on backwards. After each man was dealt with one by one, Terror nailed the Harlequin Havoc against Nifty Ned (who had the only offense of the JJS when he recovered by the Barnacle's smell, like smelling salts) for the pin. After the match, while the Harlequins started laughing, the lights cut out and throughout the arena, the images of Deathbringer's eyes were plastered on every wall and monitor. WINNERS: Harlequins by pinfall, 5:21. [Cut back to Larry, Dave bacon and Becky laRue now standing beside him, looking at him angrily.] DB: Why the hell did you pull camera from me? BL: That's obvious enough, Porker...the IIWF paid me a lot of money to make sure my face, and my perfect body... DB: HAH! BL: ...was here and not with some rival promotion. And here you go, pulling camera from the two stars of this show for what? LM: [sheepish] ...to continue the show...? DB: Don't forget, pal... I'm the host here. _I_ call what goes on. Right, the Harlequins... [Cameraman speaks out] CM: We did that already... BL: Ha! You're so pathetic you don't know what's going on... DB: Fine, Pop Tart... commentary. BL: The Harlequins have shown tremendous skill and teamwork to us, showing the start, perhaps, of a new dynasty in the IIWF. DB: But Kuyler Greyson has already hinted at re-forming Flare's Horsemen. BL: Oh, yeah, Moose and Squirrel, and the Wreck and the Edmund Fitzgerald. There's a foursome. DB: Something to fire those two neurons of yours over, LaRue... LM: Let's go to the next matchup. This is going to be a long day. ----------------------------------------------------- "Blacklight" Billy Shakespeare vs. Bobby B. Goode [J] ----------------------------------------------------- This was a sad match to watch, as Billy Shakespeare, still blind, faced Bobby B. Goode with reckless abandon. Shakespeare hit a series of low impact manuevers, including tossing Goode over the top rope from a fallaway slam. Goode, however, was not blind, and was able to capitalize, nailing Shakespeare with a series of European uppercuts, slams, and clotheslines. In the end, Goode countered a wild swing by ducking and hitting a German Suplex, holding on for the pin. WINNER: Bobby B. Goode by Pinfall, 2:33 [Cuts back to Morton, who has had the top part of his swimsuit ripped off and stuffed in his mouth as a gag. Bacon and laRue stand facing each other, dusting off their hands.] DB: Right, LaRue... go ahead, "babe"... I know you want to tear Shakey apart. BL: Thank you. Billy Shakespeare... DB: [interrupting] ...will no doubt find his way one way or another in the ring... [LaRue places her ahnds on her hips, glaring at him. She finally steps on his foot, driving the wedge of her heel into him. He hops in pain] DB: AAAAAAAOOOOW! BL: And speaking of other leagues, thanks for the transition, "babe"... The IIWF's newest import, Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines, faced my male alter ego's prodigy, the Smooth... ------------------------------------------------------ Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines vs. The Smooth [J] ------------------------------------------------------ This "match" was hardly even a match. Gaines marched to the ring and pointed at Smooth as he came to ringside with Steve Roberts. As soon as Smooth entered the ring,  he charged at Grizzly Gaines, who, in a display of amazing power, caught him in a belly to belly suplex and pinned him for the win. Afterwards, Steve attempted to revive the unconscious Smooth and praise him for his valor... WINNER: Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines, by pinfall, 0:06 [Back to Becky, who shifts her body to allow the viewers to watch her wriggle and jiggle.] BL: Why is it all the big horkin' guys wanna be "Grizzly" or "Bear"? I tell you this... he's no Otto Verhoeven... but he can go far in the IIWF. And... [Dave Bacon appears in shot to her right, scooping her up into his arms. Camera focuses on Larry Morton, who watches in silence, hearing her demand to be put down. She suddelnly screams and Morton's eyes go wide. Bacon walks back on Camera] DB: "She's the host" my ass. Roll the clip. ------------------------------------------ Christopher Stonebreaker vs. Subway Psycho ------------------------------------------ The watchword for this match was "Boring". Both men showed little interest... and a tremendous amount of distraction in a match that the fans could not really get behind. In the end, a reversed small package from the Subway Psycho proved to be enough to hold Stonebreaker down. After the match, both men shook hands and walked out to a tepid response. WINNER: Subway Psycho, by pinfall, 8:13 [Cut back to Morton and Bacon, Bacon untying Morton.] DB: You know who the boss is now, yes? LM: [through the gag] Yemph... DB: Good... hold this. [Dave tosses something down into Morton's hands. As he holds it up, we see it's Becky's top. In the background, Becky can be heard screaming] BL: [off camera] LET ME GO! I'll rip out his bladder with my teeth! DB: Both men rather lackluster tonight... the Psycho in dire need of focus in the rising tensions between him and Tony Starks. Right, Larry? LM: Right! DB: Good. You're learning. ---------------------------------- Serge Annis vs. Charles Scheffield ---------------------------------- DB: These two have a possible feud a-brewin'. I think we should go to pre-recorded comments, don't you, Larry? LM: Right! DB: Excellent.... [Scheffield standing wearing only his wrestling tights and boots. He looks once again to be extremely focused.] CS: Annis... I know many are looking at this match as myself being led unavoidably to the slaughter. I know I look like an absolute fool for challenging the likes of you. That matters nothing to me.  Tonight I intend to show you just what a man can do without the aid of such a brutal instrument as fire. I shall show you what pure rage combined with focused determination can do to break a man in ways previously unheard of. Annis... tonight you shall pay dearly for your reckless endangerment of more than just Mad Dog Watkins... but possibly everyone who was present on Saturday Night. [Scheffield curtly leaves the stage. The shot spins to footage of Serge Annis standing before an IIWF backdrop:] SA: Listen up rich boy. You claim to understand where I am coming from. Let me tell you something money bags, you don't know a damn thing about the horrors I went through as a child! About the never ending abuse that has ceased to stopp. You like to brag about never committing an "ultra-violent" act in your life. Well when you're being attacked by a pack of hungry wolves, your instinct is to fight back. Defend yourself. That is what I have done.  I have fought back against everything that the IIWF and its wrestlers have thrown at me. Chuck, I guarantee you that one day you shall commit an "ultra-violent" act, and you will love it! Frightened little man or not, I stand at six eight. I am two hundred and ninety pounds. I'm a bigger man than you Charlie. You want to parade yourself around like a gentleman and show me how a gentleman deals with scum like me. First of all, I never asked to be a gentleman. I do what I have to do to survive. Second, I take great exception to the use of scum. I am far above mere scum... [Annis flashes a sick smile.] SA: I am vermin. Heh heh... and well, I am evil. 'Tis in my nature. Life isn't fair and from now on Serge Annis is making his own luck, and his own breaks. Let me tell you something, rich boy... there are no rules inside _my_ ring... and look where you're going to be standing tonight. [Annis smirks.] SA: You claim to be a "fair fighter"... a "gentleman" at all times. Heh heh... let's see if that's true Sheffield. Tonight, I'm gonna break you... in your mind, and every bone I can set my hungry teeth on. Heh heh... prepare for Hell, Chuck... Annis' march to ringside was without his standard Pyros, though his loyal following held up their lighters in effect making the room look more like a Styx concert than a wrestling arena. As the match began, both technically skilled men traded off holds, each move Scheffield countered, being re-countered, and then reversed again. Annis and Scheffield treated the fans to a remarkable contest of wills which left Annis on the wrong end of a bow-and-arrow submission hold for nearly 1 minute and a half before Annis escaped. Annis then lost all control, turning wil and abusing Scheffield with a series of Piledrivers and nearly scoring the pinfall several times himself. In the end, near the fifteen minute time limit, Annis held Scheffiled up too long in the chokeslam, allowing Scheffiled to plant a boot, and nail the fieldplex for the upset victory. WINNER: Charles Scheffield, by pinfall, 14:02 [Back to Larry and Dave, with Becky, soaked and shivering, wrapped in a towel, standing behind, glaring at Bacon.] DB: Bacon bit of the day... BL: ...drop dead... Scheffield got lucky, right Morton? LM: Right! DB: No, Morton... you agree -- and _only_ agree -- with _me_. LM: Not while she's standing over me. DB: [sighs] I'm working with morons... LM: No, it's Morton... DB: I KNOW! [Shakes his head] Charles Shceffield made a mark against Serge Annis here...our main event was a winner though, as the master of the Floating DDT, Luke Steele matched up against Mad Dog Watkins. Watkins was silent... But Steele had this to say. [SCENE: somewhere on the beach in Fort Lauderdale.  Amidst a sea of scantily clad people walking up and down the sandy shores, one man captivates a crowd of women.  "The Real Deal" Luke Steele is working out, pressing a dumbbell overhead.  A small trickle of sweat beads on his forehead, his biceps straining.  Just as he looks like he's about to have a heart attack, he returns the weight to its holster and sits upright.  One of the women drapes a towel over his shoulders, and Luke takes a deep breath before speaking.] LS: There's no better place in the world to be than Fort Lauderdale. It's not quite spring break yet, but the college chicks are out in droves year round.  It's a beautiful sight, really. [Luke wipes away a mock tear.] LS: And Mad Dog Watkins, if you'd have been born in this century, I'm sure you'd agree.  Nobody's seen you since Serge "I wanna be a firecracker" Annis beat your ass in that cage match and then turned up the heat, literally.  Mad Dog flambe, they called you.  Isn't it about time you hung the boots up? Watkins, with those burns of yours, I wouldn't step outside in this temperature.  You're liable to combust before our very eyes.  I tell you what, Bad Doggie, I'll bring a gift for you this Wednesday, just to show there's no hard feelings after I slam your head into the mat.  Later, doggy doll. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------- MAIN EVENT: "Real Deal" Luke Steele vs. Mad Dog Watkins ------------------------------------------------------- Steele made his way to the ring first, taunting the former IC champ mercilessly, arriving dressed as a firefighter with full gear. Watkins, enraged, took the match to Steele for the first few minutes, meeting him head on, raging in full force, and the fans got a glimpse of the mad Dog of old as Luke Steele was battered from ringpost to ringpost. Several attempts to land the Floating DDT were met with failure as Watkins dominated the match until Watkins knocked Steele out of the ring. Upon following him, Serge Annis emerged from behind the curtain, smiling a wide grin as Watkins threw the battered Luke Steele into the steel steps. Watkins yelled as he got back in the ring for Annis to "Come on!" only for referee Hugo Hugo to attempt to chase Annis out in the aisleway, giving Luke Steele the chance to roll into the ring with the fire extinguisher. Spraying Watkins in the eyes with the foam and nailing him in teh stomach with him, the former IC champ soon became another victim of the floating DDT. WINNER: Luke Steele by pinfall, 11:35. [Cut back to Bacon, LaRue, and Morton, all smiling, though LaRue and Bacon both look extremely forced.] LM: A tremendous victory for Luke Steele, who is well on his way to a title shot... he's become a tremendous young talent here in the Double Eye, and accompanying his rise in the ranks is this announcement from President Spreadbury. Dave, Becks, why don't you read it for me? BL: Bite me. DB: You could only wish. BL: Shut up, or I'll dump you in the ocean.... DB: You want some more, huh? LM: [while they argue] Apparently, President Spreadbury is glad I've been as devoted as I have been -- and he has named me _the_ host of the show. BL/DB: FOR NOW! LM: Which means I finally get my own starring role. [grins] Life is good! Good night! [While the Bacon/LaRue argument threatens to get ugly, the camera crew wanders off muttering, with Larry, in his stupid swimsuit, smiling widely.] CM: We'd be better off with the two fighting... [Fade to black.] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= I * I * W * F =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+ | President: Daniel Spreadbury | Vice-President: Gregg Osterhout | | univ0322@sable.ox.ac.uk | ghost@frii.com | | iiwf@sisko.demon.co.uk | | +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- http://www.sisko.demon.co.uk -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+