________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| |\ /| /\ |\ | | /\ \ / | || | \ v v / | __| | v |/ \| \| __| /__\ \/ |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| | |\ /| |/ |/ \/ | | \/ | |\_// /\ |\ /| | _ | / __ / __ | v | | | / \ . |\ | / \ / \ | | | | \__ | | \| | __ \__ 16 February 1998 | | | | \ | | | \__| \ .....................|..v_____/.|.|..|____|____/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Steve "the Fury" Kowalski ------------------------------------------------------------------------ SK: Put up that sucker! Yers truly is gonna drown his aches an' pains with a few pints. If ya hurry up I'll by ya guys a few. [There is a collective "Yes! Steve's the man!" yell as the IIWF Monday Musings background is set up. Workers moving speedily as possible, trying to collect their frothy reward from the champ. Within seconds it's up and the cameraman is yelling...] CM: We're operational, Champ! She's all yours! [Making his way into view, Steve Kowalski walks in. The glistening IIWF Heavyweight Championship belt is tucked neatly around his waist. A fresh set of jeans and brand new work boots are complimented by the Fury's newest T-shirt: "Dan Spreadbury...High Maintenance Bitch!" With his sideways smile comes his wisdom.] SK: Three weeks, three matches. That's a schedule that even Brody'd be proud of. I'm one busy little bee. Meat had the first run... not bad... cut short by Gunnar -- buuuut... we all know what happened to him. Next was my main man Rage! Far's I'm concerned, he's got balls takin' everyone on but I wasn't feelin' charitable. I wasn't gonna give'em a rest, not that Shadoe would ask fer one. I'm sure we'll meet up 'gain an' that should be a party. Now then, what we got this week? The first defense I let the committee call. Dan probably thinks he made a good call. Yer wrong, [BLEEP]stain. This is 'nother one of yer weak ass decisions to bring down the New Jersey Nightmare, with one of the sorriest excuses fer an IIWF strap holder in history. But what the hey. Any guy that hangs in the [BLEEP]ers of NYC can't be too much of a priss. [A quizzical looks crosses the Fury's face.] What's yer deal anyways, Subway? We've hung in a few of the same joints. Ya ain't ever bought me a drink. Ya don't 'vite me to yer side of the bar. Hell, a man that drinks alone all the time, ain't happy with the world. The world's a big fuzzy [BLEEP] fer me right now. Yers must be a real [BLEEP]er. But don't worry, junior. Come Saturday, ya get 'nother shot at the most bad ass belt in the nation. Be nice to be in the spotlight 'gain, huh? One more fer the big time? What the hell. Who's ready fer the bar? [The crew sounds a resounding "Yes!" as Kowalski walks off.] CM: That's a wrap. Let's get a beer. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Savage" Shadoe Rage ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Fade in: Shadoe Rage is supported by Marissa Monet in front of the interview stand.  His legs are rubbery, one eye is swollen nearly half-shut.  He seems exhausted as he sways in her grip, barely able to stand.  Shadoe beckons the camera close with one finger.  The lens zooms in, getting right up into his face so the intensity of the wrestler is not hidden.] SR: Steve Kowalski ... kaff ... kaff ... wheeze ... you took this one.  [He holds up one finger.] SR: But it ... kaff ... kaff ... took TWO Skullpumps to finish the job when I'd already wrestled two of the IIWF's champions.  Kowalski, enjoy your win, because now I'm in your skin.  Now I know you and I know what you're about.  And you know that I am the indestructible man.  I'M STILL STANDING!!!  And believe me, I'm still ready and willing to mix it up with anybody and everybody.  But you and me ... we're going to meet one on one, Kowalksi.  The Fury is going to meet the Rage and we'll see which emotion is stronger, which burns hotter ... which burns LONGER!!! That IIWF Heavyweight Championship.  That symbol around your waist is going to be mine.  I'm going to strip it all away, Kowalksi.  I am the most dangerous man alive in the IIWF.  Don't fool yourself.  I am the most dangerous man. And you and me, we've got a date on February 28, 1998.  The final day of my booking rights I challenge you.  Non-title.  I win.  I face you in a match of my choosing at Snow Brawl.  Kaff ... kaff ... goodbye Fury.  It is time for the Nightmare in New Jersey to end.  You will die ... in ... huff ... puff ... kaff ... kaff ... _darkness!_ [Fade out as Shadoe slips from Marissa's grip and collapses in a heap on the floor.]  ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: IIWF backdrop. Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines is sitting in a folding chair, his elbows on his knees, his face is buried in his hands and a tangle of his long, brown hair. A white bandage is wrapped around his neck, with the ends dangling down in front of his checked, red and black logger's shirt.] GGG: [sadly] Oh, Mr. Fury ... I'm so sorry ... I didn't _realize_ the bumps were so much harder here. I didn't know. Oh, if I could only take back the horrible day I signed my contract here ... [sniff, sniff] ... [His head starts to rise out of his hands. He wipes a tear from one eye... then a smile starts to creep across his face. Now in full grin, he starts to shake his head side to side. He sniffs, with a contemptuous smirk on his face.] Kowalski ... [sharply] ... _Give me a break_, son. You're the world's leading authority on how hard the bumps are in the EWA ... and you ain't never been there. And to be honest ... yeah, that hurt a little. Maybe a little _more_ than something from that fed down in L.A. -- maybe a bit less. I actually kinda liked it, son.      But what you, and the suits in the publicity department DON'T realize ... is that I _ain't_ here to represent the EWA -- so get over it. I did.      Son ... I'm here to represent Gunnar "The Grizzly" Gaines.      And Kowalski -- what you did in Palm Beach was enough to PUT the Baddest Thang Running down -- but it wasn't enough to KEEP him down. [scratching his beard]      Hell. If _that_ was the Devil _himself_ dishing out payback ... then you're looking at the next man in charge of Pandemonium City and the REST of the God damn underworld! [He smiles]      Fury ... you'll have to try harder next time. Hell ... I hope you do. Because the more you dish out to me ... the more I'll feel justified in giving back to _you_. If you think I kinda like _feeling_ the pain, then take one of my beatings and _really_ watch me smile. [Grizzly Grin -- his trademark smirking, squinting smile, pearly white teeth all a-gleaming]      It's Grizzly's Law, "Fury" ... and you best look over your shoulder      for it. At _every_ turn, kiddo.      Because the Baddest Thang Running -- is still _running after YOU_. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Sychosys" Joe Petrow ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Aboard a jet returning Team Sychosys to the IIWF World Tour sits "Mr. Majestyk" Maurice McArthur and "Sychosys" Joe Petrow, looking much better one week after his most recent Saturday Night wrestling.  Despite his U.S. Curling team's 4th place overall finish, Petrow appears happy, yet slightly subdued, as he addresses the camera.] JP: Y'know, I'm not sure what everybody is expecting me to say about my     week in Karuizawa.  If you want to just look at the cold, hard     facts, we just couldn't get it done in the end.  But the way I     prefer to remember it all was the match on Saturday morning.  Skip     Somerville takes my ridiculous suggestion and makes it happen, and     pulled off what the American media was calling "Miracle on Ice '98"     And I looked around the crowd, at that little pocket of American     supporters, at that guy way at the top of the stands in the short     hair and glasses, pumping his fists, screaming "U-S-A!" at the top     of his lungs... 4M: Boy, what a wacko! JP: Yeah, wasn't it great!  For all the hardships we had to endure, we     had that one moment in time.  Where we were more than we thought we     could be.  When all of our dreams were a heartbeat away, and we     brought a piece of the Olympic spirit to everyone who witnessed it.     When it comes right down to it, success in the Olympic Games is     really all about meeting and exceeding your goals, and coming away     with pride in what you've done.  In that since, maybe the Canadians     were a bigger failure than us, eh? [Joe leans back and strectches his arms and legs as far as they'll go before continuing] JP: Anyway, it's back to the nine to five job again.  And just like we've done over here, it's time for Team Sychosys to prove themselves to the world.  And it seems that the only way to gather our respect is [Joe squishes his face to produce bags under his eyes, and speaks in an Old Man's voice] the auld-fashioned way.  We'll aaarn it. [returns to normal]     And on the big Team Sychosys "Funky Like a Monkey" World Tour '98,     we'll start with the very people who caused all this.  Tim Turner,     you wanna say that TS doesn't belong in the tag ranks?  Well, be     sure to bring on your throw-together partner Macbeth, and let us     _show_ you just what the tag team specialists of the IIWF are all     about!     See, everyone already thinks about our strengths.  But we ain't     gonna worry about those.  Instead, we're gonna show everyone our     _weaknesses_.  And once they see that, they'll realize just how     weak we AIN'T! [McArthur breaks down into near sobs] 4M: Aw, c'mon Joe!  Come out and say it!  It's me!  We suck because     of me!  I've always sucked, and I always will suck!  I suck, I     suck, I suck! [Mr. Majestyk holds his head in his hands...] JP: Good, that's great Maurice!  Lead 'em on!  That's what everybody     thinks!  Your past is our greatest asset, pal!  But I know     something they don't know!  I chose my partner for a reason,     we've stayed together for a year for a reason, and we'll continue     to function as a unit for a reason.  And when we funkys like     monkeys all the way to Ring Wars V...maybe the more intelligent     fans out there will finally figure it out. [Petrow leans down in his seat, but continues talking] JP: And to our first victims, Macbeth and Turner, get ready... [Petrow comes up, holding a curling stone] JP: ...because we WILL rock you! [McArthur looks up from his hands, stares at Petrow, and lets out a large groan as he slumps back into his seat. Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Rocket Man" Timothy N. Turner ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ["Rocket Man" Timothy N. Turner walks into the interview area with a fire extinguisher in hand] TNT: Earlier tonight I finally put out the flame of Ryan Howard. Between myself, Duncan, and yes, Derek, we have left Howard a fraction of the man he once was. [Turner drops the extinguisher.] TNT: This week Duncan and I get to face Team Sychosys. This is the team that won the right to face the tag champs at Snow Brawl but blew the opportunity. Duncan and I were unfairly excluded from that Battle Royal so now we are going into this match to prove that we would have won it. Then it's on to the Predators. Petrow! It looks like you did in Nagano the same thing you do here... lost. You are always right near the title picture but never quite in it... isn't that right, Joe? Well, on Saturday you are facing two wrestlers who know what it's like to win the gold. Remember what it was like to lose to Mike Harris at the Olympics because this is another Canadian who is going to whip your ass! [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Duncan Macbeth ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Duncan Macbeth enters the IIWF interview area backstage at the West Palm Beach Auditorium, already changed into his street clothes, his equipment bag slung over his shoulder.  The Intercontinental Champion is obviously in a foul mood, no doubt aggravated by the pounding headache caused by the interference of Cruiserweight Champion "Enigma" Takezo Musashi, but in Macbeth's case, the pain of losing is far greater than any physical pain he may be suffering from.  Macbeth's emerald eyes flash with barely-contained fury as he fixes the camera with his trademark corrosive stare.] DM: Bad move, Takezo-san. Ye ken, ye're no' th' most popular o' people around th' IIWF these days, Musashi.  Lately, ye really seem t' have picked up th' knack o' pissin' people off, an' wi' every day tha' passes, it seems there's more an' more blokes linin' up t' get a piece o' th' "Enigma". After tonigh', ye can count one more, wha'. I remember a few months back how ye went on an' on about how ye an' I were sae similar, Takezo-san.  True warriors, ye said, men o' valour... an' honour. [Macbeth rubs the back of his head, recalling the blow dealt to him by Musashi, and continues, his expression darkening, and his voice dropping to a gravelly baritone.] Wha' a great steamin' load o' bollocks THA' was. Ye can stuff all yuir mystical mumbo-jumbo an' talk o' honour now, wee man.  Wha' ye did tonigh' was nothin' short o' cowardly, an' th' fact tha' ye had t' reduce yuirself t' tha' kind o' nonsense jus' shows wha' a great fraud ye've become, how far ye've fallen, despite tha' shiny belt ye're wearin' now. An' jus' in case ye think ye're goin' t' get away wi' tha', talk t' Ryan Howard, or Ike Sampson, or Simon Lebec, an' ask THEM if Duncan Macbeth is th' kind o' man who'll forgive an' forget. But I reckon ye'll have th' answer t' THA' question sooner than ye think, wha'. [Macbeth turns to leave, but then he suddenly turns back to the camera, spitting his words out through clenched teeth.] An' Rage -- I would no' go shootin' off yuir mouth about tonigh', tosser.  Everybody in th' IIWF saw wha' happened 'ere tonigh'.  All ye proved was tha' ye can hold yuir own against a cruiserweight. An' nothin' more. [The Intercontinental Champion strides out of the picture, slamming the door of the studio behind him with a loud bang.  Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Enigma" Takezo Musashi ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: The "Enigma" Takezo Musashi steps out into the IIWF's backstage interview area, just moments after his disqualification loss to Shadoe Rage on Saturday Night's show. The feral gleam in the Enigma's eyes is accentuated by a faint, yet unmistakable grin of madness, casting his red painted features in a devilish hue.] TM: I've got you now, Edmund Fitzgerald! I've got you right where I want you, and that means you'll never be the hero to your crippled friend you truly desire to be. You came out here tonight, took the law into your own hands, jumped the Enigma from behind, and took for yourself a little measure of revenge. Tell me the honest truth, Fitzgerald: is that the example you wanted to set for all those sheep in the crowd you call your fans? Is that the ideal you set for yourself when you were still in the training camps, dreams of glory floating in your giddy brain and naivety like a green light in your eyes? Did you ever think, all those years ago, that the time would come when you'd be up in the ring, cradling the broken body of your tag team partner with his neck snapped in two? I got to you real bad, didn't I, Fitzgerald? Well now you've "stooped" to my level, and I say stooped instead of elevated, because your actions tonight were motivated only by fear, pure and simple. Fear for your friend's life and career. Fear for the raging fury that is the Enigma. Fear of what will happen to you once you step into the ring with me. When I kick the crap out of somebody, I'm motivated only by courage. The desire to be the best. By the will and the strength to go up against any man in the world and overcome him like a true warrior and champion. That's the difference between you and me, Fitz, but now I've got you truly within my power, because you've only got one avenue left. Wrestle clean? Try that against me, and you'll be lying up in a hospital bed right next to that snot nosed kid you call a friend, right after I snap your spine over the crowd barriers. Run away from the IIWF? You know I don't need the ring to exact violence upon those who have stood in my way. Wrestle dirty? Wrestle violent? Wrestle extreme? That's the only chance you have against me, but you've got to break your ideals to do it. You've got to throw the rule book out of the window and travel down the road of madness I've already been walking on for miles. You've only covered the first few yards Fitz, and I don't think you've got the mental fortitude to go down all the way... But that's how it's going to be for all my opponents from now on! You've got no choice but to let the darkness envelop you when you step into the ring with me! I've made the IIWF my personal kingdom, and each and every one of you is now a subject of my will! Duncan MacBeth found that out last night when I busted him in the head with his title strap. Do you really think, that if he comes after me he'll be able to exact revenge within the rulebook? The one decree in my kingdom, the one law I lay down before you all, is no law at all. I give you only anarchy! Survival of the fittest! Let us make this battlefield truly one of glory and bloodshed! Let us test the mettle of the so - called IIWF superstars, and seperate the warriors from the cowards. Fitzgerald, your test will be up on Wednesday night. I pray for your sake that you have prepared for it well. And Luke Steele, Timothy Turner... all the other yellow, squeamish women who have voiced their dissaproval over my treatment of Icehawk... it won't be long before I deal with you all on my own terms. It's easy for you to mouth off in the locker room when you don't have to stand face to face with the Enigma. It's easy to spout your vows of vengeance and shallow honour when you believe that you won't really have to contend with me. Well let me assure you, my rash friends, your foolhardy words will not soon be forgotten by the Enigma. Sooner or later, whether it be next week or next year, you will have to step in the ring with the me. When that time comes, make sure to remember all that you have said about the Enigma, so that your regret may be felt as fully as possible each and every day you wake up in your hospital bed, tubes sticking out of your body. I will surely remember, and I'll relish in every moment of your agony. The Enigma's time has arrived, and there is no man in hell who will stand in my way... [Musashi slowly draws his hand across his throat, menace almost physically manifesting from his gaze, and then turns and walks out of the shot. Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Edmund Fitzgerald ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: The IIWF interview set after Saturday night’s show in Florida. Edmund Fitzgerald makes his way onto the set, smiling.] EF: Did you enjoy that, Enigma? Did you like the feeling of being helpless and powerless to stop a beating? It isn’t as much fun when you are on the receiving end, is it? And if you want to tell yourself that it only happened because it was a 3-on-1 attack, that’s fine. You will find out the truth on Wednesday. [Fitz starts to turn away, then remembers something else.] EF: Oh yeah. I almost forgot about my old buddy Serge Annis. You know what, Serge? I don’t care about how you torched Mad Dog, and I don’t care that you got left out when everyone was swapping the World Title belt around. All I care about is the good old days when we were both part of Genesis. You remember those days, don’t you, Serge? When you spent eight hours a day kissing Requiem’s butt? And when you helped sell out Icehawk and I because Requiem was terrified of big, bad Casey James? If you don’t remember... you will on Saturday. Count on it. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Real Deal" Luke Steele ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Fade up to the IIWF interview.  A loud crashing sound is heard, and the "Real Deal" Luke Steele walks into view of the camera.  His expression says it all, a look of rage and desperation.  He trembles before the camera, obviously mad as hell, and he struggles to get the words out.] LS: Stonebreaker... before you were just an annoyance...     Then... you became a problem... and a disappointment... at Snow     Brawl...     Now... now, you're a dead man... you cost me a match against the one     man I truly despise... and next weekend you're going to regret it...     heavily... [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Richard "Moxy" Blue ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The scene is the traditional IIWF banner interview area set up for Musings. A hyperactive hand waves from the lower camera area, and the grinning, loveable face of Richard "Moxy" Blue pops up soon after. His blonde roots are showing a little more underneath his blue hair this week.  He still wears his Duncan Macbeth mock up outfit, and yes, he still looks a few cookies short of a bag of Oreos, but unfazed at the attack by Derek Mota.] RMB: [Mr. Hankey voice] Howwwwwdyyy ho! Whoa, this place feels a little weird, kids. I'm usually not inclined to grant my... hehe... wisdom from the normal mediocre places, but I'm usually a man of action, and right now I'm a hyper lil' guy with a lot to say. [Blue pulls a pair of spectacles out of the front pouch of the kilt, and places them on the end of his nose. He looks down into the pouch in surprise and pulls out a large amount of licorice.] RMB: Wahoo! Hidden snack! I love it when that happens. [Blue sticks the licorice in his mouth, and sticks out his lower lip. This may be his idea of looking "dignified".] RMB: [now soundling like Robin Leech] Now for my first ohdah of business. YAY DOWN BOYS! OH YEAH RIGHTEOUS! They finally acknowledged that we were cut from the same cloth! Rest assured, I will help you kick some Machine booty! We _are_ facing the Machines, right? Are they still around? We could be facing the queen of Zimbabwe and her Redneck sidekick Zeke for all I care! Three way Fly to The Angels! Yahoo! And best of all, it'll shut up old Dirk for the night. [Blue bites the end of the licorice in an attempt to look macho. It, of course, fails miserably.] RMB: Dirk, I don't know how many times you beat the livin' hoobajoobs outta my award winning ass. In fact, it's been a hobby of yours ever since the beginning o' my career. So has denyin' authority. But now, as much as it may hurt you... heeehee, you gotta play by the rules! I'm your partner whether you like it or not, and that's the only rasslin' you'll be doin' fer awhile! [Obviously, Blue finds this all VERY amusing] RMB: Ahhhh... this is sweet! And if you forfeit these matches, you get to go in under-500-ville with all the OTHER losers! [Blue makes the "L" hand signal on his forehead] You _know_ Richard Blue is the best thing that ever happened to ya! [Cajun lisp slipping through] Dirk, ya deed do thum bad teengs, mon amie. Ya mayid Duncan Macbeth mad aht meh. Ahnd heem, heem ith a good guyee. 'Eh knows 'ow to partay! 'Eh knows 'ow to have fun! 'Ey knows 'ow not be a downair all da ty-eem! Duncan, jutht because mahthelf ahnd yer leetle buddee don't geet alongg tho well, it don't me-ahn way cahn't bay frands! Let uth... uh... buree da 'atchet, oui? Ah can undeerthtand 'ow you don't like Motah, so no 'ard feelangs, mon amie? Fantastique. Dirk, 'e is just a leetle meethundairstud. [Blue becomes slightly contemplative. His eyes flash with that strain of intelligence we all know hides underneath his childish exterior, the mind of tactitian... or a madman. He looks directly into the camera and you feel as if he is looking right at you.] RMB: [his voice clean and clear] Dirk... I think you need a friend. [Richard refuses to show too much of the innerworkings of his brain, and returns to a happy-go-lucky state.] RMB: We're gonna be BEST buds from now on! Just like Laverne and Shirley! Hey! Do you remember the Laverne and Shirley cartoon? I do! They were on some boot camp with a talking pig! What the hell was up with THAT?! I mean, a talking pig, I could understand, but a talking pig drill sergeant? It was just plain WEIRD! Not that it gave me... nightmares or anything. I'm Moxy Blue, and I only have beautiful dreams! YAYAYA! [Blue goes off camera humming "Beautiful Dreamer", his "tartan" flapping madly. Cut to next segment.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Sanguinary" Steve Manning ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: Backstage at IIWF Saturday Night, amid utter chaos and confusion, as a throng of security guards and IIWF executives surround the area. Suddenly, a figure busts through the crowd, heading in a beeline towards the camera.  Steve Manning yells into the camera, as a number of the officials grab at Manning, tugging on his black t-shirt reading "The ICON.  The Main Event.  The ShowSHOCKAH!"] SM: [screaming over the background racket]  It looks like I'm going to have to make this short n' sweet!  Christopher Stonebreaker, congratulations!  Ya caught me completly off guard!  Although it's my own fault, I s'pose...  I've heard far and wide about your renowned "small package". [Manning laughs as he continues fighting off security.] SM: Oh, and of course, how could I forget, little Charlie Scheffield. [Manning does his best Fran Drescher impression, with the squawking New "Yawker" accent.] SM: Mistah Scheffield, I know my actions may have shocked you tonight, but I think there were two lil' lessons to be learned for all of us tonight... firstly... [Manning returns to his normal voice, screaming at the top of his lungs.] SM: DON'T [BLEEP] WITH THE PSYCHO! [Manning takes a deep breath, smiles sweetly and says in almost a growling whisper...] SM: And Wrestle Clean. [Manning begins laughing into the camera, his wild eyes telling tales of things he would like to do to anyone who dares get in his face again, as security finally manages to drag him away, with Manning yelling a large string of profanity to no one in particular.]   ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "The Intrepid" Ryan Howard ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [An angry looking Ryan Howard storms into the IIWF interview area, blood still fresh on his face, dripping down into stinging eyes, along his cracked lips, and down his neck, a few dots of crimson strewn across chest, which still heaves from the hard fought battle he just completed. Drawing up his right hand, he brushes the back of his forearm along his brow, wiping away from blood from his eyes, a small chuckle passing past his lips.] RH: Another week... another head wound, eh? Ain't I just the luckiest son-of-a-bitch on the damn block, getting a trashcan _and_ a fire extinguisher thrown into my head within half an hour? [His lips crack into a sadistic smile, his pristine canines peeling past his lips.] RH: Ikey, sorry if I wasn't as... "lively"... as I could have been, in fact, I doubt you even broke a friggin' sweat. Well, I take that back, since I did lock and load, shoving your head into the canvas. [He places his hands on his waist, shaking his head side to side.] RH: First, Macbeth. Bugger-boy, I'm really starting to get sick of these little attacks you're striking against me. As a matter of fact, I'm dip-diddly-daffled by it, to quote everyone's favorite psycho-Catholic. [He raises his eyes and his hands to the camera, knifing the fingers of each hand, and then easing them forward with a snap of his wrist.] RH: Listen, McDipshit, first off, I noticed you're pretty scruffy, there. Maybe a shave, a haircut possibly? I mean, seriously, I got scratch marks on my back from your knappy hair, and I'm sure Timmy's thighs are none better. So maybe what I'm saying, is that how about you stop hiding backstage, and get your bitch-ass out in the ring, so "w'kin mix it up a wee bit, like d'sheep back home?" [He sneers.] RH: And then we got Two-Bit Timmy. Li'l Timmy. Timmy mother [bleep]'ing Turner! You like the way I dumped your ass on the back of your head backstage. You like the way this [bleep]'ing Bunny Rabbit beat your head like a drum? A trashcan in the face, a piledriver on the cement, a wanna-be Skullpump, and a fire extinguisher on the head, and I _still_ put you to rest. [Grinding his teeth, the camera focuses in on his eyes, blood encrusted along the pair of openings, the dark stare cold and steady.] RH: And it's a only a matter of time before I come to tuck you in. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Down Boyz ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Awesome T sits on a table as a physican works on him.  The Down Boys sit and watch, as T looks away from the doctor and towards the camera.] AT: They used to call me Crazy Joe... but now... they'll call me Batman! [The physican gives T a needle, and T falls back, under sedation.  The Down Boys take the opportunity to get a few words in.] DO: Um... they call us dumb... but we... um... we... AP: At least when we do stuff... it's original.  It looks good, even though we may not look good doing it.  Last I checked, this was still about wrestling, and the two Japanese kids should know that by now.  We busted our asses for many years in Japan, and we've got the wrestling knowledge to show for it.  What are the Fabulous Ones, but sad, unoriginal ripoffs of sad, unoriginal wrestlers.  I mean, we managed to get rid of Scott "The Fop" Rogers in an effort to try to rise up the competition level of the IIWF, and lower the creatine level... but then Spreadbury, desperate for competition for teams such as ours, gets these rejects.  Jealousy doesn't become you, Fab Ones... finally, Saturday, we get to finish you off, once and for all.  Just because the Prophets beat the living hell out of you and we had them pinned... doesn't mean you can't be happy for us.  Hell, look forward to Saturday... after we beat you... we won't be wrestling you anymore... maybe you can muscle up a winning streak... DO: That was pretty good, Adam. AP: Thanks, Danny... is T okay? [T is still laying back on the table, holding his head and singing the Batman theme.] DO: Yep... he's just fine. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Fabulous Ones ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Inside Gold’s Gym, West Palm beach, Florida, “The Universal Heartthrob” Agito Nakajima and “Sweet” Sho Satsuma work out.  Agito is on the weight bench, doing incline barbell flies, Sho is spotting him.  Both Agito and Sho are wearing black sweat pants, with the words “Wrestle Clean, kande kure!”  Sho has on a white tank top and Agito is shirt less.  His shredded muscles contort under the weight.] SS: Fourteen!  Come on Agi, one more! [Sweat rolls down Agito’s chest, arms and forehead.  He strains under the pressure of the weight.  Slowly he pulls the barbells upwards.   Agito lets out a loud groan of pain.] SS: Fifteen!  [Agito drops the barbells and exhales.  He sits up, and a towel is thrown to him from off screen.] AN: Arigato. [Then, the person who threw the towel to Agito is seen, it’s Franco Columbo, former Mr. Olympia and Mr. Universe.] FC: No problem.  Way to kick out that fifth set. AN: Do you mind spotting Sho, while I do this interview? FC: No prob. [Sho lays down on the bench and starts to do the same exercise Agito was.] AN: I’ve got a few things to say, to a few people.  First of all, Ike “Wrestle Clean” Sampson-san, I don’t get you.  Am I to believe that because you “Wrestle Clean” you gained a half way decent physique?  Well, I got news for you, take a look at this! [Agito does a double bicep pose.] AN: Sho-kun and myself don’t always wrestle clean, but you better believe we hit the gym harder and longer than you have ever dreamed of, so kande kure! [Sho finishes a set.  He gets up and Franco lays on the bench while Sho spots him.] AN: Now, let's talk about the Down Boys. SS: [shouting] Down Children! AN: Whatever.  You want a six man match, you’ve got it, but you’ll have to wait to find out who our partner will be.  [Agito and Sho chuckle.] AN: However, we’re nice guys, we’ll try to help you deduce who it may be. Roll the footage. [The scene is replaced, and now depicts a classroom interior.  Ms. Miki is dressed like a teacher, in a conservative blouse and skirt with heels, looking very sexy.  Her hair is tied up.  She is writing on the chalkboard. The camera pans around to the class.  The seats and desks are filled with beautiful beach women.  You know the kind, bleach blonde hair, blue eyes, huge fake breasts.  In the middle of all them seated is Agito and Sho.  Ms. Miki finishes writing and starts talking, the camera swings back around.] MM: This is tag partner deduction 101.  We will attempt to help the less fortunate Down Children, by showing them who the Fabulous Ones partner may or may not be.  Let's start. [She grabs a pointer and points to the stuff she wrote on the board.  The camera gets a closer look and reveals names of IIWF combatants and such.] MM: The first name on the list is Takezo Musashi, the Enigma? [Agito holds his hand up.] MM: Yes, Agito-kun. AN: It could be him since he's from our homeland. [Sho raises his hand.] MM: Yes, Sho-kun. SS: However, I don’t think so, because he’s kind of renounced his heritage. MM: Good answer.  Let's try this name... Marty Warnett? [One of the blondes in class.] B: He would be great!  But I bet you wouldn’t want him because his partying might affect his in-ring skills. MM: Very good! [The whole class applauds the blonde who sits and giggles.] MM: How about the Real Steele of the IIWF, Luke? AN: Don’t know him, won't happen. MM: What about Serge Annis? SS: Too crazy!   I couldn’t trust the guy.  He could snap and try to snap us. [Agito shakes his head in approval.] MM: Uum... maybe, Paul Wong? AN: Maybe not! SS: He can’t even speak, much less wrestle.  What a wuss.   I wonder what or who turned him into the no speaking fool he is today? [The whole class laughs.] MM: What about the Fury? AN: He’s the champ, he has bigger fish to fry. MM: How about a member from the Lost Boyz? SS: That’s one of my favorite movies, how about we go watch it?  Is it recess yet? [The bell rings, and everybody gets out of their seats and leaves.  The women are hanging all over the muscular duo.  The footage ends.  The scene resumes in the gym.  Sho is performing leg lifts while Agito continues on.] AN: I hope that helped you, Children.  Please bear with me, I only have two more things to address.  American Drag-ons, I heard what you had to say, and I find it interesting that you believe to be like a dragon because you have the same characteristics.  Just answer me one simple question, then I’ll drop the whole thing.  Why did you leave out honor when you listed your characteristics?  It’s the greatest characteristic of the dragon.   If you don’t have great honor, then you’re not worthy of that status.  Wait, one more question.  What about the Asian people who you have dishonored by associating America with their sacred mythical beast? [Sho stops for a breather than starts his next set.] AN: Lastly, the Natural Predators.  We had you beat, and what happened? The referee of the Double-Blind-Eye, somehow overlooked the foreign object you used on Sho to get the win.  Obviously, you're not quite as clean as you claimed to be.  What’s it going to take to get these worthless referees to officiate properly?   Maybe, a little money? [Sho stops, as Agito walks away from the camera.  Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Paul Wong ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Paul Wong walks up to the IIWF Interview area.  He looks at the ground as he speaks.] PW: I, uh... said my piece.  I don't want to talk anymore. [He turns around, and walks off.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Harlequin Tragedy ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Darkness. A candle on a table provides the only light in the room. Deathbringer's mask sits next to the candle. Tragedy sits in a chair next to them. His hands are folded in front of him.] HT: Well, little man, it appears that you still haven't coped with your loss. [Tragedy picks up Deathbringer's mask from the table.] It's hard to imagine that a simple piece of cloth is so important to you, that your life starts to fall apart the moment it is taken away. You have turned into a mockery of yourself since I took this from you. And now that I have it, I'm never going to give it back. You, Deathbringer, are my stepping stone to startdom in the IIWF. And this mask is the key to it all. [Tragedy throws the mask back on the table.] Like I said, little man, I hold a lot more power than you can ever imagine. Someone as limited as you, will never be able to compete with someone like me. [Tragedy reaches over and extinguishes the candle flame with his fingers. All goes black.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Simon O'Neal ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The camera pans down, where Simon O'Neal is sitting Indian-style on the floor.  He has several piece of paper on the floor, and is reading them.] SO: Harlequin Tragedy...  maybe.  Of course, he's busy with the big dead guy, but that might work in my favor.  "Moxy" Blue...  I hate taking on nutcases.  Besides, he looks like he's getting in tag teaming. [Shakes his head].  Marty Warnett... that could work.  He's been around forever, so a win could help.  Besides, I like beating up pretty boy rocker types.  I think my first wife left me for one of those... [He looks up into the camera.] SO: I'm looking over the other cruiserweights in the Double Eye.  Now that I've started my singles career, I figured I should start targeting some of these men, if I want to get into contention for The Enigma's Title.  [He stands up and starts gathering the slips of paper.] SO: After all... what else am I going to do? [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ American Dragons ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [We open on a shot of two dragons... the dragon logos on the back of the leather jackets of Joe Scalercio and Bob Ivey, aka the American Dragons. The two men are walking along backstage, and the camera follows behind them as they talk:] JS: Two teams.  One who proved tonight just how overrated they are. BI: One who proved tonight how damn good they are, and how fickle Lady Luck can be. JS: The Fabulous Ones.  Gee, guys, I thought you two were supposed to be good? BI: The Down Boys.  The Prophets got damn lucky tonight. JS: Ms.Miki... ugly?  Us?  Nah... you just don't know good looks when you see them... unless you're looking in the mirror at yourslef. BI: Awesome T.  Hey, you signed a damn good match for this Wednesday. JS: AbFabs... go away.  We've got much more important things to do this week then deal with you two morons. BI: Boys... get ready.  We'll wrestle you clean and fair... because we know how damn good you two are.  Real good. JS: Oliver, Peterson... you're the top contenders.  But get ready to be knocked off. BI: Nothing personal.  Just business.  We'll give the fans a show to remember. JS: And Predators?  We're waiting... BOTH: Any team, any time... [Fade out on the back of the jackets, the logos going away in the distance.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ? ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Two blacklighted shillouettes fill the screen, one markedly larger than the other.] VOICE: [deep baritone, possibly African-American] American Dragons... You say any team, any time? 2nd VOICE: [slight Hispanic accent] All right then, little punks. How about us, Feb. 28? VOICE: Prepare to get jacked... [Fade.] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+