[Fade up on footage of the ring entrance of the Subway Psycho. The arena drops into complete darkness, and soon the only light comes from the popping of flashbulbs all over the stadium. A pinprick of light becomes visible amidst the black expanse, and it steadily grows, its growth accompanied by the rumble of steel wheels against steel tracks. The light continues to grow, until it engulfs the video wall, and fireworks explode on either side of the wall and below, a shower of sparks raining down, obscuring the entrance from view. Suddenly, a figure emerges through the fiery rain, and thrusts his fists high into the air to a huge pop from the fans. The gold of the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship glints around his waist. The shot slows and freezes as the Subway Psycho walks down the aisle, slapping hands with the eager fans. Over these scenes comes a voice-over:] VO: They say champions never die... [The frozen image fades into inky blackness once more.] VO: ...they just fade away. [Suddenly, the screen is awash with a fast-paced montage of images, cutting between in-ring appearances of the Subway Psycho and Steve "the Fury" Kowalski: the Psycho duking it out with Otto "the Butcher" Verhoeven; Steve Kowalski being dunked head-first into a ringside bucket by Brody Thunder; the Psycho being dropped throat-first across the crowd barriers by the "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin; Steve Kowalski Skullpumping Brody Thunder through the roof of the cage at Snow Brawl; the Subway Psycho executing a crucifix on Hardin and dragging him over backwards for the pinfall that won him the World title; Kowalski duking it out with Marty Warnett; the Subway Psycho performing his flipping legdrop off the ropes onto Tiger Claw; Kowalski executing a tricycle moonsault on Joe Petrow; Tiger Claw clocking the Subway Psycho upside the head with the "People's Champion" award. The montage continues, as the voice over cuts in again:] VO: Two storied veterans. Two proud champions. One last chance. The Subway Psycho has his shot at assuring his immortality... but he has to make it past Steve "the Fury" Kowalski... only tonight, _LIVE_ from Puerto Rico! [The opening graphics explode onto the screen:] ________ ______ __ ____ ___ __ . _ ___ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| / /\ | | || \| \ /\ \ / |\ || / \| | | | || | \ v v / | __| \__ /__\ | | ||__/| |/__\ v | \||| __|-| | |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| \ \| v | \|__/ \| | || \_|| | | __________________________/...hour one...\........|...|.......|....| LIVE! Juan Lubriel Stadium, Bayamon, Puerto Rico 21 February 1998 [The opening graphics fade through to interior shots of the jam-packed Juan Lubriel Stadium, fireworks shooting out from either side of the huge video wall above the entranceway at the head of the aisle and streaking up into the rafters above above the ringside enclosure, seemingly triggering further fireworks, and sending a rain of white sparks down into the ring. Finally, flames shoot up from each of the four corners of the ring from pyros mounted on the ringposts. Huge pop from the twenty thousand fans crowding the floor seating and filling the mezzanine, lining the entire arena. The shot pans down past row upon row of excited faces, young and old, many bedecked in IIWF merchandise, and most waving home-made signs. Over these scenes comes the voice of Tim Dross, his words being carried over the PA system:] TD: Recepción todos a Bayamon! Dé la bienvenida todos al estadio magnífico de Juan Lubriel! Dé la bienvenida todos al IIWF Saturday Night! [Another huge cheer goes up from the fans as the shot swings over the crowd, multi-coloured spotlights in the rigging above the ring casting their bright beams over the sea of humanity ranged over the floor of the Auditorium. Finally, the shot comes to rest on the broadcast table at ringside, at which are seated veteran IIWF announcer Tim Dross, dressed in his usual IIWF blazer, and once again sporting his somewhat conspicuous "WRESTLE CLEAN!" lapel badge, and "Soundbite" Steve Roberts, wearing his leather jacket over a t-shirt which reads: "I'm The Bad Guy!"] TD: Howdy, folks, and welcome to the beautiful city of Bayamon, just five miles south of San Juan here in Puerto Rico. This is the fourth stop on the Road to Ring Wars V -- and we are half-way through our whistle-stop tour of the world! I'm Tim Dross, and beside me, as always, is my tag team partner and broadcast colleague, "Soundbite" Steve Roberts. SR: I gots the number one wrestling organisation on my shoulders, Dross, and I's standin' tall, baby dolls! TD: Steve Roberts' delusions about carrying this company aside, we have a tremendous show for you tonight, live from the magnificent Juan Lubriel Stadium! As you saw at the top of the show, tonight's main event pits one of only two former IIWF World Heavyweight Champions still active in the organisation, the Subway Psycho, against the man currently wearing the most prestigious title in all of wrestling, Steve "the Fury" Kowalski. SR: I can hear the Furies warmin' up already, Dross. We's gonna see some Skullpumps here tonight! TD: Steve Kowalski is keeping up his punishing schedule -- two weeks ago he wrestled the Meatman, last week he defeated Shadoe Rage, this week he faces the Subway Psycho, and next weekend Kowalski will be wrestling on back-to-back nights! Next Saturday, the Fury will meet Shadoe Rage in non-title action for a second time, live from Nagano, Japan, and then on Sunday night, he will go up against Mad Dog Watkins in a three falls Progressive Death Match in the Skydome in Toronto, Canada! SR: Ain't nobody can keep up with the Fury, Dross. And there ain't no way that Subway Stinker is leaving this arena with that belt. TD: That remains to be seen, Steve Roberts. The Subway Psycho is a veteran of the IIWF and an explosive competitor -- I predict we'll see quite a match between these two later on here tonight. Another tremendous match will pit "Savage" Shadoe Rage against Steve Manning and, uh, "Team Psychosis", in a four-man over the top rope death match! SR: So let me get this straight, Dross -- "Team Psychosis" isn't Petrow and McArthur, right? TD: I believe that to be the case, yes, Steve Roberts. SR: So... who the hell are they? TD: I have no idea. But we'll find out in our second hour. The _real_ Team Sychosys is scheduled to be in action here tonight, too, on their self-proclaimed "Funky Like A Monkey" World Tour, as they face Timothy N. Turner and Duncan Macbeth, although there are concerns that the Intercontinental Champion might not be here to wrestle after the heinous attack perpetrated by Simon Lebec just yesterday evening ahead of "Countdown to Saturday Night", for which Macbeth was scheduled to be the co-host. SR: You work with Morton, and you're gonna regret it, baby dolls. TD: Simon Lebec broke into the studios and bludgeoned Duncan Macbeth with an oak table leg just minutes before "Countdown" went to air yesterday, knocking Macbeth unconscious. I understand that he suffered a serious concussion, but I have no word as to whether he will be here tonight. Injury has also struck another match on tonight's show: the Down Boys and Richard "Moxy" Blue last week challenged the Fabulous Ones and a partner of their choice to a six-man tag team match here tonight, but this past Wednesday saw both Dan Oliver of the Down Boys and Moxy injured by the Fabs and Derek Mota respectively -- and there is some speculation as to just who Awesome T has lined up to partner the remaining Down Boy, Adam Peterson, in this match. SR: Aw, I hope it's Ashley Judd and Susan Sarandon, Dross. Judd, Sarandon, and a large helping of chocolate trifle. TD: Whatever you say, Steve Roberts. We'll find out just who will be in that match a little later on this hour. Other tremendous matches we'll see tonight include Serge Annis facing former Genesis stablemate Edmund Fitzgerald in what is sure to be a hotly-contested bout, as well as the "Real Deal" Luke Steele facing off against the man who has truly been a thorn in his side these past few weeks, Christopher Stonebreaker. Plus we'll see the Saturday Night return of Billy Shakespeare, despite his visual impairment, as he faces the man who nearly blinded him at Snow Brawl, "To Excess" Rick Williams. SR: It's so sad, Dross. A promising career as an ice-cream salesman cut short in the blink of an eye -- no pun intended, morons. Makes me want to cry, truly it does. TD: On top of all that, Deathbringer will attempt to retrieve his mask when he goes up against Harlequin Tragedy, and we'll be getting comments from Gunnar Gaines, and Paul Wong of the machines. But to kick off the show, we have a very special treat in store for all of our great wrestling fans here in the Juan Lubriel Stadium, as we pay tribute to a true legend of this sport, a twelve time holder of the pretigious Puerto Rican Heavyweight Championship, perhaps the greatest athlete in the history of Puerto Rican wrestling, the Magnificient Carlitos! SR: Who? TD: You may not be familiar with the Magnificient Carlitos, Steve Roberts, but here in Puerto Rico, this man is probably a bigger star than Brody Thunder, Gunnar Gaines and Sabin Figaro combined! He's a true sporstman and a great competitor, and here he comes right now! Listen to the tremendous ovation from these fans! [The entire capacity crowd in the Juan Lubriel Stadium goes crazy as a dark skinned figure makes his way down the aisle, beaming at the adulation directed at him from all quarters. The Magnificeint Carlitos is built solidly, although not particularly imposing by US wrestling standards, standing at about 5'11" and 240 lbs. Charisma seems to fairly radiate from the man, however, as he takes his time interacting with the fans, recieving him as something akin to a demi-god, before finally climbing up into the ring and parading around with his fists raised to the heavens. Carlitos is attired in a plain red one piece wrestling costume, and trailing down his forehead, beneath his slightly receding, frizzy black hair, can be seen countless deeply grooved scars, badges of courage worn proudly by a man who has spent over twenty five years of hell in the notoriously tough Puerto Rican wrestling rings.] TD: This will be the very first time most United States wrestling fans will have seen the Magnificient Carlitos, an athlete of unparalled stature here in Puerto Rico, and a man who was probably capable of winning any wrestling title in the world during his prime. This man is a true veteran, and as you can see by those scars on his forehead, he sure knows how to mix it up. I can remember vividly, on my first travelling assignment as a broadcast journalist way back in '78, witnessing Carlitos take on the "Butcher of Baghdad" Abdul Sharikh in this very same arena, and let me tell you now, it was an encounter I'll not soon forget. SR: Adbul Sharikh... he's the guy that made his name by carving roadmaps into wrestler's heads with barbecue forks, right? TD: That's the one, Steve, a real four hundred pound monster, and although we've witnessed some bloodbaths in the IIWF's brief but storied history, I've never seen anything that quite matches the depths of violence seen here in the Puerto Rican rings. SR: I've heard the stories about these vampire Puerto Rican fans. I pray the IIWF security team has been doubled tonight, Dross man. TD: Administration might well have decided to take that safety measure, Steve. If you think the fans in New York are a tough crowd, or even if you've attended Leeds United soccer matches, I don't think you'll have seen a crowd that gets riled up quite like these Puerto Ricans. These are people that have been known to lynch wrestlers and run riot through the streets when the match results don't quite go their way. In fact, the first and only foreigner to win the Puerto Rican heavyweight title, Dirk "the Ax" Murdoch, was forced to retire from his hospital bed the very next day, after being trampled and beat upon by dozens of hostile fans. These people take their wrestling and their national pride very, very seriously. SR: Heavy stuff, Dross man. I'm just glad I got my man Smooth here to watch out for my ass. [The camera cuts to the broadcast table, where the all-encompassing presence of the Smooth stands with his arms folded directly behind Steve Roberts. Several angry looking fans struggle to see the ring from over his shoulders. Back between the ropes, the Magnificient Carlitos has procured a microphone and begins to address the crowd in his native tongue, huge cheers greeting almost every sentence.] TD: The Magnificient Carlitos addressing his fellow Puerto Ricans, and for the benefit of all our fans watching back in the United States, we'll cut directly to our resident Spanish broadcaster, Salvadore Sanchez, to provide the translation. SR: Great. Those foreign announcing guys will finally have something to do besides providing table fodder. SS: [in thick, hispanic accent] Greetings, my countrymen! I know you will join me proudly in welcoming to our nation the athletes and stars of the IIWF! It is not often that the international spotlight is turned upon us, but with this great organisation of wrestlers and sportsmen, representing not only the United States, but the entire world, taking the time to visit our country, for one brief and golden moment, our proud Puerto Rican heritage will stand tall before all the peoples of the planet! I would like to say what a proud moment this is for me, first of all, for once again have the opportunity of standing before you, my fellow countrymen, that have granted me your loyal support over the many years [to this, a huge pop] But also, I am proud to be representing my country as a part of this great international organisation, the IIWF, with its famous history of sportsmanship and athleticism. And as I have been granted the honour of representing Puerto Rico, I would like, right now, in the spirit of sportsmanship, to issue a challenge to one of the superstars of the IIWF. I would like to wrestle a match against one of your finest competitors, and demonstrate before all the world, that Puerto Rican wrestling is as good as the wrestling in Japan or the US! [big pop] I would be a great honour, if one of the IIWF wrestlers would take up my challenge, and wrestle me before all of my countrymen. Think of it not as a battle of nationalities, not as a hate fuelled feud, but as an athletic contest between two great wrestlers! I look forward to an answer for my challenge. [The crowd pops loudly for the unexpected treat of witnessing their national hero wrestle tonight, and although the majority of them are unfamiliar with the IIWF stars, many still crane their necks expectantly towards the aisle, curious to see who will answer Carlitos' challenge.] TD: Wow! An unexpected challenge there from the Magnificient Carlitos. And let me tell you this: he might be over forty five years old, he might be a grizzled veteran, but this is still a man who knows how to wrestle with the best of them. He only recently re-captured the Puerto Rican heavyweight championship for a record setting twelfth time, and this has the potential to be a great international sports spectacle! SR: That depends, Dross man. I think the only guy we've got to spare backstage is El Super Gecko, so this will probably be one huge international embarassment. TD: No wait... Someone is coming down the aisle right now! Who is it?... I can't quite make him out... SR: Oh sweet Jesus, save us. [The crowd pops loudly, in the spirit of Carlitos' speech, in the spirit of sportsmanship, obviously unfamiliar with the recent history of the man walking down the aisle right at this moment... it is the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi. The Enigma is attired in his now familiar loose fitting black pants, with red pentacles running down each leg, and identical red pentacles painted around each eye. Carlitos beams down from the ring, taking the time to hold open the ropes for his fellow wrestler, obviously unable to witness the pure psychotic menace radiating from the Enigma's eyes at this distance.] SR: Oh dear God... We're gonna have some trouble here. [over shoulder] Hey Smooth, look sharpish, would ya? [back in headset] These poor, innocent young Puerto Ricans... they don't have a clue. TD: This is... I really believe the IIWF officials should exercise a little judgement here and stop the Enigma's ring entrance before it's too late. I really believe, with the recent history of anarchic and plain outright barbaric behaviour of this man, that Musashi is absolutely the worst wrestler that could come down here and represent the IIWF in an international spectacle such as this, at this point. [The security guards lined up along the crowd barriers almost visibly appear to grow edgy and tense... obviously, they've been briefed about the dangerously volatile nature of the Puerto Rican fans, and perhaps even more worrying, they've been watching IIWF programming over the past few weeks. The camera cuts back to the ring, where a beaming Carlitos continues to hold the ropes open for the Enigma. Musashi pauses at ringside, taking a moment to survey the heaving masses of the Puerto Rican crowd, his Cruiserweight title dangling from his hand like a dead cat, and a dangerous gleam flashes in his eyes. Finally, he deposits his title strap on a nearby table, and climbs up through the ropes. Carlitos steps away from the ropes and into centre ring, where he offers his hand in a gesture of sportsmanship to the Enigma, although as he does so, the expression of proud joy on his face seems to waver for a moment, as he senses something not quite right in the gaze of the man standing across the ring from him...] TD: We're just moments away from what is potentially a very dangerous situation here, folks... Given the unpredicatable, impulsive nature of the Enigma, and the equally volatile nature of the fans here in Puerto Rico... anything might happen. I just pray that Musashi has chosen to manifest the controlled, focused side of his persona here tonight. SR: Well, that attire of his is supposed to symbolise his konton blabthingy... No wait! Musashi is accepting his hand! We're all saved from a sure lynching! [A huge pop accelerates in fervour from the entire Juan Lubriel Stadium as the Enigma apparently accepts the offer of sportsmanship from the Magnificient Carlitos. The Puerto Rican veteran warmly shakes his hand, feeling the brotherhood of a fellow competior, anticipating the classic wrestling match to come. However... In the skip of a heartbeat, in one fluid motion, so fast that the shock impact is only registered seconds after the act, Musashi has dipped into his trunks with his free hand and lashed out in the face of the Magnificient Carlitos, who now staggers backwards in surprise and horror, blood pouring from between his eyes. And in the Enigma's hand, glinting in the spotlight despite the fact that it's point now drips with crimson, is some kind of sharpened metal shiv... Abruptly, the outpouring of fan support turns into a tidal wave of jeers. Unheeding, the Enigma pirouhettes on one foot, blasting Carlitos directly in the throat with his other heel, flooring the Puerto Rican legend with a devestating spinning savate kick!] TD: Oh my goodness! What a shocking act of violence on the part of the Enigma! What a callous betrayal of Carlitos' honourable sportsmanship! Fountains of blood are spilling from Carlitos' forehead, Musashi blasting him with some kind of... of home-made shiv, and we might well require a stretcher team out here! SR: To hell with that! Listen to these fans! We need a damn army of security down here to save my bad self from a lynching! [There is a growing restlessness and discontent from the angry Puerto Rican mob, as Carlitos lies dazed down on the mat, dabbing at his horribly bloody forehead with his hand. Down by ringside, several fans are gesturing violently towards the ring, and security guards push several over eagre young men back from trying to climb over the barriers. Musashi throws his shiv aside, and picks up the microphone Carlitos discarded earlier.] TM: Ever get the feeling that things were starting to slip just a little out of control? When your best made plans come to nothing but dust, and all the bed rocks of stability and order come crashing down around you? You know all about that right now, don't you, my Puerto Rican friend? [Musashi lunges in at the Magnificient Carlitos once again, stomping away at the hands he holds to his head, then down into the bloody wound itself, and the deafening heel heat notches up another few levels across the Stadium. Abruptly, however, Musashi backs away and raises the microphone to his lips once again.] TM: There comes a time in every man's life, when his whole world comes crumbling down around him. There comes a time when the illusion of order and sanity he has surrounded himself with is ripped away, and he's faced with nothing but the chaos and bloody mayhem that lives and breathes beneath it all. Icehawk faced up to that just a few weeks ago, just as this decrepit old man is facing up to it right now... and just as I have been facing up to it for a long time now. Well, when you've been enveloped by the spirits of chaos for as long as I have, your whole life is transformed and twisted, and you find that, no matter how much pain you go through, no matter how much blood you spill, no matter how much mayhem you inflict upon the meek fools who surround you, that you never want to go back! You never want to live the illusion again! You recognise the utter worthlessness of all the petty codes of law, order and morality we restrict our lives by, and you run rampant with the fury of a million burning suns! You revel in violence and destruction! You realise that it's the only thing of worth in this blackened world! TD: [over headset] The Enigma has well and truly lost it! He's gone crazy! We've got to get him out of there! [The Puerto Rican fans appear to understand only a little English, but nonetheless, their anger at Musashi's mistreatment of their national hero is enough to stir them up into a hornet's nest of heel heat, forming a solid backdrop of jeers to the Enigma's words.] TM: And as you bay for my blood all across the Juan Lubriel Stadium, as all the sheep watching at home jeer at me for crippling Icehawk and taking the whole of the IIWF within my grip, I spit in your face, because the one thing you're really jeering at is your own cowardice; your resentment at me for having the courage to break all the rules and conventions, to take whatever I want, do whatever I please, and whip up a full force hurricane of chaos in my wake just for the sheer hell of it! Well, here's what I've got to say to you and your petty codes of law and order! [As the Enigma has been issuing these words, the Magnificient Carlitos has been gradually staggering up to his feet, a testament to his tremendous and legendary resiliency that his forty five year old body can even move after the punishing blows dealt out to him, and staggers wildly in the middle of the ring. Immediately, Musashi lunges forward, and raising the microphone, blasts Carlitos hard in the face with it, sending him careening back against the turnbuckles. The Enigma pauses and gives a faint sadistic smile, seemingly revelling in the deafening hatred directed at him from all quarters of the Stadium, which, impossibly, are growing even louder. Abruptly, Musashi grabs Carlitos by the back of his head, twisting his face upwards, so that he may rain down further blows with the microphone unnaposed. A dull <> <> <> amplifies across the Stadium as Carlitos is repeatedly bludgeoned in the face with the hard plastic of the mic, slowly battered down towards the canvas, blood now coating his whole face and trickling down his chest. Finally, with one last punishing crack, many fans turning away in horror from the sickening spectacle, Carlitos is deposited down to the mat, his arms hanging limply over the ropes, jaw sagging, nose broken. Musashi takes a step back and admires the carnage.] TD: [over headset] This is truly a horrible and calamitous streak of sadism we are witnessing on the part of the Enigma, and right at this moment, I'm truly ashamed that this how the IIWF has represented itself for the first time to Puerto Rico. Musashi must be stopped, but unfortunately, the security team is so occupied with holding back this outraged crowd, it doesn't look as if they can spare a man! SR: I don't like the sound these barriers are making, Dross. I don't think they've seen any maintenance in all the time this stadium has been in existence, and I'm thinking it might be wise to bail the hell out of here right now. [Abruptly, the camera cuts to the middle of the aisle, where two security guards restrain an angry young man, who, apparently getting too feisty to his own good, is placed in a hammerlock and marched out of the Stadium. Back at ringside, the steel crowd barriers surge ominously forward, at least a good six inches, and the security guards begin to draw nightsticks, desperately trying to push back the hostile fans. In the ring, Musashi, obviously recklessly courting a riot situation, raises the mic to his lips once again, only this time, blood trickles from the mouth piece down the handle and over his hand.] TM: What you're witnessing right now, is a demonstration of the new decree I place over the heads of the entire IIWF. Gregg Osterhaut likes to get his face on the show with his "Wrestle Clean" campaign, parading his posters and slogans around like any shallow politician, but he doesn't realise just how over his head he is when he stands in my way. What I give you is anarchy, and like a true warrior and champion, I don't need to be bound by such petty concerns as rules and sporstmanship and fairplay. A true warrior brings only his ruthlessness and killer instinct to the fields of war, and as an example of a true warrior, I stand in direct opposition to the dictates of this paper-pushing "Vice President". The face of this league will soon be radically altered, and what I'd like to do right now, is draw a dividing line right through the centre of the IIWF. All those who have the stomach to fight as a true warrior should, all those willing to take it to the extreme, all those who thrive when wading in chaos and blood, rally behind my banner! We'll cut a bloody swathe of mayhem through the rank and file of the "sportsmen" and poster boys and feeble cowards who can't even take a chair to the head without crying foul to the referee. We'll make this league our playing field, and a true symbol of war and courage. All those who choose to stand against us, all those yellow sheep who throw their lot with in with the Vice President and his cronies, I'll give you a solemn warning: Get out now while you still have the use of your legs... get out and prepare the way for the new reign of chaos that shall envelop the IIWF. Otherwise... let's just say you can't begin to contemplate the depths of violence that will be inflicted upon your hapless souls. The Enigma has spoken, and as always, his words are sealed with blood. [Musashi throws the microphone down amid the cacophonic jeers of the crowd, and turns his attention back to the Magnificient Carlitos. The veteran is horribly battered, but amazingly, still on the borderlines of consiousness, as the Enigma drags him up to his feet. Moving at a deliberately slow pace, so as to fully sink home the awful consequences of his actions, Musashi places Carlitos on the turnbuckles, facing into ring. The Enigma slips out onto the apron, then mounts the buckles himself... he clinches Carlitos around the waist, hefting him up into the air in a belly to back suplex position, then, as the crowd stands slack jawed with horror, drops down and drives his skull down into the arena floor with a pulverising Backdriver Suplex!] TD: Oh my goodness! What a devastating maneuver from the Engima! What an unnecessary act of barbarism! Carlitos might well be crippled, just as Icehawk nearly was before him, after that Backdriver Suplex! SR: I seen some crazy-ass bumps in my time, but that was sheer stupidity! [Musashi picks himself up from the floor, a bruise swelling across his left shoulder from the impact of the drop, but as the adrenaline fuelled psychosis in his eyes demonstrates, he is probably not feeling any pain right now. The Magnificient Carlitos is stretched out on the ground, blood dripping from his body and staining the concrete, motionless save for an occasional twitch of his nervous system... and his neck appears to be twisted at a slightly odd angle.] TD: The damage Carlitos must have suffered... this is a potential career ender for sure, and the fans here are positively apocalyptic over the prospect! [At the sight of their national hero, perhaps ending his magnificient career on such a violent, painful note, the fans surge forward in a frenzy, and in one section, the barrier collapses. Immediately, fans begin to pour forth from the break, right at the Enigma. The oriental devil is rapidly huddled by dozens of security men, desperately fending off the fans as they attempt to herd him up the aisle. The rest of the security team are stretched to their limits trying to contain the mass of fans trying to lynch the Enigma, and finally, pushed to their capacity, begin lashing out with nightsticks. Perhaps judging that this scene is not quite appropriate to be broadcast on IIWF Saturday night across the world, officials quickly direct the camera crew to cut to the broadcast table. Tim Dross looks shocked and horrified by the whole affair, while Steve Roberts laughs at the fans who desperately try to leap the barrier and vent mass destruction, only to be held back by the waterbed like mass of the Smooth.] TD: A truly disturbing and disgraceful scene to kick off the IIWF's visit to Puerto Rico, and I wouldn't be surprised to see us banned from ever touring this country again. Clearly, severe, severe reprimands must be served to the Enigma for his inexcusable actions here tonight, as he clearly believes himself to be "above the law" in the IIWF. What's that?... I'm just getting word now that the crowd has settled a little, and our security team are in the process of restoring order, although some two dozen individuals are to be escorted from the Stadium. We've got our maintenance crew coming down to fix that broken barrier, and apparently, the show WILL be going on... I just hope we can avoid any further disgrace here tonight. We'll be right back. [The camera cuts to a stretcher crew, carrying the unconscious body of the Magnificient Carlitos up the aisle, and many of the Puerto Rican fans are openly in tears of anger and grief. After a few moments, cut to a black screen, with a voice-over...] VO: What does it take... to be a star?! [The screen explodes into an image of Ike Sampson giving Scott "The Whine" Bloom a Deep Freeze, which quickly dissolves back into black again...] VO: What does it take... to be a champion?! [Quick exploding shot of Ike powerslamming Lord Byron, and then back to black...] VO: Drugs?! [Shot of Ike gorilla pressing Scott Rogers...] VO: Alcohol?! [Shot of Ike Deep Freezing Steve Kowalski...] VO: Dirty play?! [Shot of Ike superplexing Tony Starks...] VO: Nope. [The black screen slowly dissolves into an image of Ike Sampson, standing in the middle of a weight room, sweat dripping from his massive frame...] IKE: Hard work.  And that's the truth. [Cut to a shot of Ike standing with a group of school kids, who all shout together in unison...] KIDS: KEEP IT CLEAN!! [Slow dissolve to the "Wrestle Clean!" logo.  Fade. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside, fans heard angrily yelling in the stands behind the table.] TD: We're all still a little in shock here, folks, but the show must go on. SR: What kind of moron would run a "Wrestle Clean" promo just after seeing Musashi bludgeon some Puerto Rican old-timer into oblivion, Dross? TD: Our production team is at full-stretch here tonight, Steve Roberts... and we've not even seen our first match yet. Folks, let's get up to the ring for our opening contest, as Christopher Stonebreaker is scheduled to face the "Real Deal" Luke Steele. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| Christopher Stonebreaker vs. Luke Steele |_||_| \_/\_/ |_|.................................................... WRITER: Dave Evans [Sparkplug Lee nervously enters the ring to introduce the match, taking deep breaths and trying not to hyperventilate.] SL: Senors and senoritas, this bout is scheduled for one fall! ["A Country Boy Can Survive" by Hank Williams Jr. comes over the P.A. system as the grumbling of the crowd calms down somewhat.] SL: Coming down the aisle, from Lafayette, LA, weighing in at 265lbs... "The Rajun' Cajun"... Chris-to-pher STOOOONE-breakerrrr!! [A very mild face pop for Stonebreaker as he starts making his way down the ramp, slegdehammer in tow.] SR: Ya know, Dross, some people like to use brass knucks or salt-to-the-eyes, but for this job, he prefers to use... a twenty-pound sledge. TD: Steve, I'm a bit concerned here. This crowd is volatile, and I don't know if... LOOK OUT!! [As Stonebreaker is about halfway down the ramp, "The Real Deal" Luke Steele runs out and clobbers him from behind with a metal water bucket. Stonebreaker stumbles down the aisle to the ring as Steele continues to rain blows to his back and head. Once they reach the ring, however, Stonebreaker turns, hooks Steele around the neck, and sends him hurtling into the ring steps.] SR: Ooooh, that'll leave a mark. Nuthin' like a night in Puerto Rico, eh, Dross? This reminds me of the good ol' days... brawling outside the ring... hostile crowd... hell, even the vendors are carrying barbed-wire baseball bats. TD: Referee Chuck Saunders is none too happy with the course of events right now, and he's pleading with Steele and Stonebreaker to get in the ring. [The two combatants continue to slug their way around ringside. Steele Irish whips Stonebreaker back-first into the ringpost, then attempts a clothesline, but nails the post instead.] TD: Steele tastes the steel! [Stonebreaker responds by going to the Spanish announcers' table, grabbing a glass of water, and throwing it in Steele's face.] SR: Hey, watch it! The water down here qualifies as a deadly weapon! TD: Oh, you're a riot tonight, Soundbite. SR: Well, at least Steele can finally "Wrestle Clean" for once in his life. By the way, Dross, don't say "riot". [Indeed, the crowd isn't pleased that the match hasn't even officially begun yet, let alone that their compatriots' announcers' table is once again the site for IIWF mayhem. Finally, Stonebreaker grabs Steele by the hair and tosses him under the bottom rope and into the ring. Steele gets up, though, and stomps vicously at Stonebreaker as he rolls into the ring. As Stonebreaker lies on his back, Luke points to his boot, leaps into the air, and comes straight down with the front part of his boot in a snapping motion onto the Cajun's forehead. Steele notices the cameraman on the apron, goes over to him, and speaks into the camera.] LS: See that, Meatman? This one's for you, hamhock! [Steele goes back to Stonebreaker's prone body and continues to stomp away.] TD: Obviously still some bad feelings for the man they call Meat. SR: Steele's incensed, Dross. I think Stonebreaker might have created a monster here with his interference over the past couple of weeks in Steele's matches. TD: Here's a quick pin attempt... just a one-count, the Cajun still has plenty of fire in him. SR: Must have been the quesadillas, Dross. TD: Ladies and gentlemen, your "Chef du Jour", Steve Roberts. SR: Mucho taco. [Back in the ring, Steele continues to work over Stonebreaker with punches, kicks, gouges and a rope burn thown in for good measure. The crowd is clearly getting restless as they await some semblance of a wreslting move.] SR: Ah, yes, the rope burn. Developed by the great George Hackenschmidt in 1899, I believe it was... TD: I think you've been enjoying a bit too much of the local plant life. [Steele picks up Stonebreaker, who counters with a hard right cross and attempts a standing reverse neckbreaker, but Steele counters with a kick to the groin.] SR: [copping the "Bumblebee Guy" routine] Oya! Mes cojones! Es no bueno! TD: You know, Soundbite, you're not exactly endearing yourself to his crowd... [True enough, as fans around the English-language announcer's table are becoming noticeably sour. Then again, it's not exactly a party for the rest of the audience, who provide no heat whatsoever to this match.] TD: I'm really becoming uncomfortable in this place, Roberts. SR: Who cares about you, anyway. I lost fifty bucks betting against Dominik Hasek. Maybe I _did_ sample the local fauna a bit too much... [Stonebreaker tries to rally again with a series of punches, an Irish whip and an attempt at a powerslam. Steele responds by sliding out the back and rolling Stonebreaker up in a small package. Referee Chuck Saunders counts two, but Steele lets the Cajun up, shouting "NO NO NO!!" to the crowd, who shower Steele with boos and curse in the colourful local dialect.] TD: Steele has been on top from the get-go with that bucket-shot to Stonebreaker's head, but he's not capitalising. He wants to put a hurtin' on the "Rajun' Cajun"! SR: [bad Cajun accent] Contu-zee-ong! Abra-zee-ong! Medica-see-ong! TD: You watch too much TV, big guy. SR: Televis-zee-ong! Pabst Blue Ribb-ong! [Steele again goes for a lackadaisical cover, and Stonebreaker kicks out feebly at two.] TD: I _knew_ we should have started with a six-man luchadore match. [Steele again picks up the Cajun, but this time Stonebreaker mounts a comeback, nailing a series of punches and going for the Rockslide Suplex] TD: Here comes Stonebreaker with one of his patented moves! The Rockslide... wait, Steele slips out the back again... he goes for a kneelift... but Stonebreaker connects with a clothesline! SR: Well, it isn't exactly a top-rope Frankensteiner, but at least we've got some action now. Speaking of action, Dross, I swear I saw Selma Hayek at the hotel last night... Ay caramba! TD: Keep it on a slow boil, Steve, we've got work to do here. [Stonebreaker places Steele on the top turnbuckle and tries for the superplex, but Steele pick the groggy Cajun up and drives him hard to the mat with a spinebuster.] TD: Super Steele Tower! This could be it... one... two...thr... no, kickout! SR: It ain't over yet, Dross-man. TD: Steele thought he had him, but Stonebreaker just barely got that shoulder up. SR: Uh-oh... Steele's goin' ballistic! Who knew the guy had it in him? Maybe he can finally show me something here. [Steele boils over, slides out of the ring, and makes his way up the ramp.] SR: Or maybe not. Looks like he's going home and taking his toys with him. [Instead, Steele picks up Stonebreaker's sledgehammer and brings it back toward ringside. Referee Saunders faces Steele as he climbs the apron.] TD: Steele's lost it! He doesn't care about the victory anymore, he just wants to inflict some serious pain on the already-hurt Stonebreaker! SR: Well, Dross, you know what I say... TD: "Oh no, not another gay guy-tough guy tag team"? SR: No, the other one. TD: "Old enough to drive, old enough to drive"? SR: No, "Beating people up is good, but the winner's purse is better". TD: Here comes Stonebreaker! [Stonebreaker staggers across the ring toward Steele, shoves the referee out of the way, and gets a short sledgehammer blow to the head for his trouble.] TD: Stonebreaker is out cold! Referee Chuck Saunders didn't see it! Steele comes in for the cover... plants one foot on Stonebreaker's chest and starts posing! Good grief... [Saunders makes the three count as "The Real Deal" strikes the "Bunkhouse Buck" pose, fists on hips, chest proudly sticking out, complete with ear-to-ear grin. The crowd boos halfheartedly, not pleased at all with the overly-short match, but thankful that it's out of the way. Steele gets hit in the head with a cup of beer, which elicits a cheer from the crowd.] SL: Your winner, by pinfall, Luuuuuke STEEEEE-uhlll!! TD: Well, it wasn't pretty, but Luke gets the duke this time, Roberts. SR: At least he kept his focus for a change... if the Meatman had come out, I think Steele's short fuse would have cost him, but the Meat isn't on the card tonight. Lucky for Steele... unlucky for Stonebreaker. TD: Uh-oh... speaking of short fuse, here goes Steele again. [The tomato upside the head seems to have riled Steele up once more, as he begins stomping away on his fallen foe.] TD: Here comes Ike Sampson! SR: Oh, joy, the Thought Police have arrived. [Ike Sampson, poster boy for the "Wrestle Clean" initiative, comes out, picks up Steele in a fireman's carry, and brings him out of the ring and up the aisle, kicking and screaming, to the dressing room. The crowd pops big time. Stonebreaker eventually shakes the cobwebs and staggers up the ramp, picking up the dented water bucket along the way, and muttering "Steele....Steele..." as he disappears behind the curtain. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: I'm sure things aren't settled permanently between Luke Steele and Christopher Stonebreaker, folks, but right now we're set to get comments from Paul Wong, whom we saw no fewer than three times last Saturday Night. Eventually, he managed to inform us that he wants to reform the Machines, despite having turned on his partner and friend, Simon O'Neal, several weeks ago at Snow Brawl. Of course, that all came crashing down two weeks ago, when the Fabulous Ones turned on Wong -- and now he needs his partner back. Here he comes now. [Paul Wong walks down the aisle, without any music. He is wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, and carries the grey fedora hat in his hands. For the first time in a week, he actually looks around and sees the audience as he walks to the ring. He stops by the announcer's desk and asks for the microphone from Sparkplug Lee, then enters the ring. He speaks with a clear tone, without any of his recent stuttering.] PW: Hi. As everyone knows, I asked Simon O'Neal to team with me for the Machines again last week. And I never received any response from him. I don't blame him -- I stabbed him in the back. I betrayed everything that ever meant anything to me at Snow Brawl. My friend, my word of honor, and the fans who have supported me. I thought I was in love with Ms. Miki. Well, I guess I was wrong. The Fabulous Ones turned on me just liked I turned on them, and I deserved every bit of it. [He pauses, takes a deep breath, and continues.] PW: So I'm doing the only thing I can do. I'm retiring from wrestling. [Some murmurs from the audience.] SR: Jesus, what a wuss! PW: I can't repent for what I've done to everyone, so... [He trails off, and the crowd murmurs even louder, as Simon O'Neal walks down to ringside. He has a determined look on his face, and doesn't acknowledge anyone as he storms down the aisle. Following right behind him is a bewildered Casey C. Simon climbs up to ringside, enters through the ropes, and yanks the microphone from Paul Wong. He speaks to... Casey C.] SO: You! Keep an eye out. If any of the Fabulous Ones or Miki shows up, we're out of here. Right now, I've got to take care of business. [He turns around and faces Paul.] SO: This is where I'm either supposed to welcome you back with open arms... or attack you for Snow Brawl. Well, I'm not doing either. You want to retire? [Points out into the crowd.] The EXIT door's that way. [Sarcastically] Have a great life! [Paul Wong gets a depressed look on his face, looks down at the ground, and starts to leave the ring. He's halfway through the ropes when Simon speaks again.] SO: Here's your problem. You've got all this physical talent -- strength, speed, agility, endurance. And you're not stupid; you make some really dumb decisions, but you're not a stupid man. Hell, just about every idiot in this place would love to be in your shoes. But you've got no willpower. You pick these people to follow, and do whatever they suggest. Your family... these jackasses that you call "the fans"... me... Ms. Miki. You've done whatever anyone else wanted you to do. But you've never done what YOU wanted to do. And look where it led you. You wanted to please the fans... well, they all hate your guts. You wanted Ms. Miki to love you... so you turned your back on your me. You want to team up with me again... so you come crying like a baby, begging for forgiveness. Take a good look around you, Paulie. You've hit rock bottom! I should know -- I've been there often enough. The difference between you and me, Paulie -- and it is a damn big difference -- is that when I hit rock bottom, I got pissed. I got angry. I vowed revenge against every Goddamn bastard that helped put me there, and I went about and GOT it! But you... you cry, you moan, you whimper, you beg. You do everything except stand up for what you believe in and fight for it. I told you the second day we ever teamed up that if you would ever develop a spine that you'd be awesome, one of the most feared men in the sport. You remember what you said? [Paul nods his head] You said you didn't want to be feared. Maybe not, but it sure as hell beats pity. [Simon shakes his head.] SO: I actually pity you, "partner". I'd team with you in a second if you ever developed that killer instinct. But you won't. Maybe you can't. [Sincerely] Have a good life. Hope you find whatever the hell you want. [Simon throws down the microphone cord and starts to walk out of the ring. He starts to walk over by the ropes, when Paul starts yelling. Not a yell of agony, or sorrow... a yell of anger. He starts charging... and nails Casey C. with a clothesline that flips Casey C. into a 360 degree flip.] TD: Paul Wong's flipped! Look at him attack Casey C! [Paul grabs Casey C. by the hair, and headbutts him twice before gorilla pressing him up and slamming him to the ground. He starts choking him out, and the camera catches a wild gleam in his eyes.] TD: He's gone berserk! Casey C. is turning completely blue in the face. [Simon O'Neal steps back into the ring, hops up on the turnbuckle, and watches the carnage continue. Paul Wong whips Casey into the ropes before delivering a powerslam, then picks him up and delivers a powerbomb. He picks him up and delivers a second powerbomb... then a third... then a fourth. Casey C. is completely unconscious as Paul Wong picks him up for a fifth powerbomb, slamming his neck and back into the mat. The JJS finally reach the ring, but as one of the Barnacle Brothers starts to enter the ring, Paul Wong clotheslines him back out. He turns around, and faces Simon O'Neal. Simon hops off the turnbuckle and stares at him, face-to-face. Paul breaks out in a wide grin. Simon doesn't do anything for a moment... ...then matches him with a grin of his own, and nods his head. Paul and Simon exchange high-fives as the JJS enter the ring and check on the condition of Casey C. As a stretcher is called for, Simon stops to pick up the grey fedora hat, knocks off some dust, and places it on Paul's head. They leave the ring and start walking up the aisle, talking animatedly as the stretcher comes down to ringside.] TD: Oh my! I believe we have just seen the Machines reformed here tonight in Puerto Rico! Well, this has been intense to say the least. And we haven't even gotten to the second match! SR: Well we better! This crowd was ugly enough when we got here! TD: That's not a very nice thing to say, Steve Roberts. SR: That was the point. TD: Well up next is a rematch from a few weeks back. By now we are all aware of what has transpired between Deathbringer and the Harlequins. The end result being that Tragedy is now in possession of Deathbringer's mask. Tonight, Deathbringer and Tragedy will face each other again. This time, Deathbringer is going in this match and he's after more than a win, he's after Tragedy's head! SR: So what! Nothing will compare to the match Tragedy had with that midget Wednesday. Of course, once those idiots, The Machines, leave we can get to the match. TD: Whether they leave or not, we have to continue before we have a riot here. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| Deathbringer vs. Harlequin Tragedy |_||_| \_/\_/ |_|.................................................... WRITER: David Lawson [Sparkplug Lee is standing in the centre of the ring, being pelted mercilessly by cups and other pieces of refuse.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is set for one fall with a fifteen minute time limit. Introducing first, from The Dark Side, weighing in at 324 pounds... DEATHBRINGER! [The lights dim as "Scythe, Rage and Rose" by Dark Tranquillity plays. Deathbringer makes his way to the ring amidst the garbage being thrown in the aisle. His long cowl is pulled low over his face, hiding whatever is underneath it.] SR: Where's the Blind Guardian? TD: I don't know. I would think that with the numbers the Harlequins seem to come in, that Deathbringer would have someone watching his back. SR: Maybe that's why the Machines are there. TD: It could be, as we await the announcement of... LOUDSPEAKER: Hello little man! [The camera turns to show Tragedy standing atop the video wall with a microphone in hand.] TRAGEDY: I'm surprised that you actually showed up little man. Seeing that every time we meet, you are the one that ends up getting carried out! [Garbage starts to get thrown towards the video wall.] TRAGEDY: But you know little man, I don't think there is any more I can do to you. I think that when it comes to you, I've proven my point! So as far as I'm concerned, I'm not going to lower myself and get in the ring with you! [A huge chorus of boos erupts as more garbage strats flying towards Tragedy and the ring.] TD: Oh no! We don't need this! SR: That clown's gonna cause a riot! TRAGEDY: It's quite obvious to me that you aren't strong enough in the face of Tragedy... So we'll see how well you do in the grip of Terror! ["I'm Your Boogie Man" by White Zombie starts to play as the crowd seems to be caught in a confused silence. From the entrance, Terror comes out, flanked by Harlequins Comedy and Melody. He holds up his chainsaw "Binky" and lets out a howl.] SR: Hey! Not a bad idea from the 'Quins! TD: It appears that Tragedy is sending his cousin to do the dirty work for him. [As the three head to the ring, a large clown comes down from the crowd and dumps a bucket of confetti on the Harlequins. Terror makes a lunge for the clown but Comedy and Melody manage to hold him back.] SR: What was that? TD: Pretty big clown! SR: Maybe it's Chaos. He's about that big, and that weird. [Comedy and Melody drag Terror to the ring. Terror walks up the steps and walks right up to Deathbringer as Comedy and Melody start to head for the corner. Suddenly, Comedy makes a mad dash for the broadcast booth and Melody bolts after her.] TD: Now what's going... [Comedy sits in the empty seat next to Dross and clamps on a headset.] C: Ha! I got the chair! Nyah! Nyah! [Melody pouts as she puts the other headset on.] M: Well, I'll just find somewhere else to sit. [With that, Melody sits down in Steve Roberts' lap.] SR: Oh, I am really going to enjoy this match! TD: It appears that Comedy and Melody are joining us for the play by play as Terror is getting up in 'Bringer's face. [Deathbringer walks up to Terror and starts to pull back his cowl, revealing a blood stained goalie mask underneath. Terror takes a step back looking confused. And Deathbringer uses that momentary advantage to level Terror with a right hook. The bell rings.] TD: And we are underway as Deathbringer starts hammering Terror with right hands that seem to have little or no effect on the newest Harlequin. Deathbringer with a boot to the midsection followed by an uppercut that knocks Terror out of the ring! C: No fair! Closed fists! That's cheating! [Terror gets up and appears none worse for the wear. He places Binky in his corner and gets back on the apron. Deathbringer moves in but gets a thumb in the eye from Terror. Terror headbutts Deathbringer in the stomach then slingshots himself over Deathbringer landing on the mat behind him. Terror gets up and starts to grab at the goalie mask.] C: Go Terry! M: Get him! Get him! TD: Terror is going for that substitute mask the Deathbringer is wearing. But Deathbringer manages to throw Terror off with a snap mare and stomps on Terror's head. C: Oh, that ain't gonna do nothin'! M: Terry doesn't feel pain. [Deathbringer scoops up Terror and drops him throat first across the top rope. Terror bounces off and hits the mat clutching his neck, but soon gets up and grins evilly at Deathbringer. Terror stomps a few times on Deathbringer's knee, then grabs the Dark Destroyer's leg and starts biting it.] M: Steve, this is so scary, hold me closer. SR: Sure thing, babe! C: Slut! [The referee manages to get Terror to break away, but the young Harlequin headbutts Deathbringer's knee causing Deathbringer to go down to one knee. Terror then headbutt's 'Bringer in the face, and starts to pry back the mask.] C: You know Steve, Harlequin spelled backwards is Niuqelrah! SR: What? TD: I think she's making a reference to the late Harry Caray. He was a play by play man for the Chicago Cubs. SR: I know who Harry Caray is! M: Oh, poor Harry. Hold me closer, Steve! SR: Mel, you don't even have to ask. C: Mel, you tramp! [Melody sticks her tongue out at Comedy as Terror sticks his hand up Deathbringer's mask and shoves a couple of fingers in his mouth. Deathbringer starts to reach for the ropes, but Terror seems to pull him away.] C: Ooo! The Karen Carpenter Deathlock! TD: Karen Carpenter Deathlock? I believe it's called the Mandible Claw. C: How did Karen Carpenter die? TD: Bulimia, I believe. C: What is bulimia? TD: It's an eating disorder where one forces vomiting in order to lose weight. C: And how do they typically force vomiting? TD: By sticking their fingers down their throat. C: And what's Terror doing? TD: Okay, I see your point! C: I just hope he washed his hands after he went to the bathroom. [Terror starts to force Deathbringer down further with the Mandible Claw, but The Dark Destroyer starts to stand up again. Terror strains to continue the pressure but it seems to be in vain as Deathbringer grabs the Harlequin by the throat and throws him into the corner. Terror slumps down as Deathbringer moves in. 'Bringer starts stomping away on Terror's leg, then drapes it over the bottom rope. Deathbringer gets up on the second rope and drops down on Terror's leg.] TD: And it appears that Terror's tolerance for punishment may have run out as Deathbringer pulls him into the center of the ring. Deathbringer now clamps on an Indian Deathlock! C: No way! M: This is really scary! Hold me closer, Steve! C: If he held you any closer he'd be behind you! SR: What I want to know is, why did you send Terror in? C: Psychological warfare, Stevie! Nobody's faced Terror one on one. He's a tag team wrestler. For a former World Champion to lose to a tag team wrestler would be like, oh, anyone else losing to Edmund Fitzgerald! TD: Well, he doesn't look like he's doing to well now. Terror may tap out soon. C: Honey! Do something! [Tragedy motions behind him as he makes his way down the video wall. He is joined by Chaos who steps from behind the curtain. The two start towards the ring.] SR: Hey, if Chaos is there. Then who's the clown in the stands? C: Hell if I know. What are those Machine dorks still doing here? [The original Harlequins get to the ring. Chaos moves to where Terror is while Tragedy gets up on the ring apron. The referee turns and starts ordering the Harlequin leader to get off the apron, but while his back is turned, Chaos grabs his cousin's hands and pulls him withing grabbing distance of the bottom rope. The crowd starts to protest loudly and start throwing more garbage into the ring. Tragedy finally returns to the floor and the referee sees Terror in the ropes and calls for the break... Which only serves to rile up the already angry Puerto Rican crowd. More garbage flies into the ring and Terror gets hit in the face with a soft drink. The beverage spills into the Harlequin's eyes such that he is unaware of Deathbringer's belly to belly suplex. Terror tries to shake off the suplex and the cola, but suddenly finds himself hanging upside down as Deathbringer nails him with a Tombstone Piledriver. The referee counts the pin, but only manages to get to a two count.] TD: Okay, this is starting to get dangerous here. All this stuff getting tossed in the ring. SR: It's an impromptu audience participation match! This was a headliner once! [Deathbringer places Terror on the top turnbuckle and sets him up for the Burial. But just as he starts to climb the corner, a beer bottle from the crowd nails the referee in the head, knocking him unconcious. Seeing the opportunity, Chaos storms the ring and pulls Deathbringer off the top rope, saving his partner. Chaos then grabs Deathbringer and powerbombs him in the center of the ring. Terror regains his senses and mounts himself on the top rope. Tragedy tosses Binky up to him and Terror, chainsaw in hand leaps from the top rope. The audience is stunned as the sound of the chainsaw crashing into Deathbringer's skull fills the room... But they aren't as stunned as Terror when Deathbringer sits up after it!] C: No way! TD: Deathbringer is awake and he looks angry! SR: C'mon guys! Do something! [Deathbringer gets to his feet and Terror starts to backpedal for the corner. Chaos hits a hard punch to the back of Deathbringer, but the Dark Destroyer doesn't even flinch as he reaches out and grabs the six- foot-eight three hundred forty four pound teenager and hoists him into the air. Tragedy slides into the ring and clips Deathbringer's knee. The two brothers start to pound on Deathbringer, unaware that their cousin is in trouble.] TD: Wait! The Machines have Terror! [Almost unnoticed throughout the match, Wong and O'Niel pull Terror out of the ring. Wong grabs Binky The Chainsaw from Terror and slams him across the head with it. O'Neil kicks Terror in the back as Wong levels another crashing blow to the face of Terror. Melody bolts from the broadcast table to help Terror and Comedy follows her.] TD: We have a couple of two on ones going on, and not a referee to do anything! SR: This is getting better and better! Now if Melody would just come back here. [A storm of refuse starts to fill the ring as Tragedy and Chaos continue to put the boots to Deathbringer. But The Dark Destroyer gets to his feet and slams the brothers' heads together. Deathbringer then grabs Chaos and in a remarkable feat of strength, chokeslams the seventeen year old phenom. On the outside, Comedy swings her Happy Hammer at The Machines. Rather than duke it out with the girls, the Machines, with Binky, head to the back.] TD: There is pandemonium in this arena as Deathbringer has just laid out Chaos. Terror doesn't look to good either! SR: Kidnapping, Dross! The Machines have kidnapped Binky! TD: Binky's a chainsaw, Steve Roberts! SR: Chainsaws are people too! TD: The referee looks to be getting to his feet. I wonder what's going to happen? [Tragedy swings at Deathbringer, but the Dark Destroyer blocks the attack and hits Tragedy with a palm thrust to the face. Tragedy holds his nose and Deathbringer goes to the ropes and nails Tragedy with a big foot to the face, sending the Tragic One through the ropes and crashing head first to the arena floor. Chaos rolls out of the ring and helps his brother up. Comedy and Melody drag Terror to the back as well. The referee calls for the bell.] TD: This match is over, but I wonder what the verdict is? SR: I think the ref DQed the fans. TD: You can't DQ the fans, Steve Roberts. SR: Who else hit the referee? SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the match as the result of a disqualification... is DEATHBRINGER! [There is a huge pop from the crowd as Tragedy wipes the blood from his nose and points to Deathbringer yelling "This isn't over!" Terror on the other hand seems to be in a stupor, as Comedy and Melody carry him past the cameras all he seems to be able to say is "Binky, they have Binky!"] TD: It looks as if Deathbringer will get a moral victory in this match, though he is far from getting his mask back. SR: Alright, who's the joker with the beer bottle that got my man Terror DQed? TD: I didn't realize Terror was your man? SR: Hey, I just had Melody's chest in my face for ten minutes, The Harlequins are okay by me. TD: Security is trying to things back under control here. Hopefully we can in time for the six-man tag team match up next. We're running a long way behind schedule tonight, so let's get straight back up to the ring to find out just who Awesome T has lined up as replacements for Richard "Moxy" Blue and "Dazzling" Dan Oliver in this match. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| SIX-MAN TAG TEAM ACTION: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Down Boys & Richard "Moxy" Blue vs. Fabulous Ones & Damien "the Demon" Lestat ....................................................................... WRITER: Chris O'Brien [Sparkplug gives a nod to a fan holding a "WE MISS HARRY KARY!" sign as he raises the mic to his lips:] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the following encounter is a six man tag match, set for one fall! SR: Ah, Dross, four gay guys is bad enough, and now you assail the Soundbite with SIX? Six? TD: I heard about you and six gay guys once, Steve. SR: You say the weekend line and I'll give you a full Soundbite Press. That'll take the edge off this crowd. SL: Introducing first... [Sparkplug is interrupted as the PA kicks in, loud!] TD: Well, so much for the intros... ["Yankee Rose" by David Lee Roth plays to a packed house. Ms. Miki burst out from behind the curtains to a huge standing ovation. She's wearing a black, wet leather, vest top, and tight red velvet pants. They're tight in the rear and thighs and flare out at the calves. She has on Black high heels. She enters the ring and Sparkplug Lee hands her the microphone. With a huge smile she waves to the crowd until they finally die down.] MM: Konbanwa, Puerto Rico! [Huge cheer] I think you already know who I am! [Another huge cheer, but a chant of "Miki, Miki" goes up. Between each "Miki" a chant of "Take it off" can be heard.] Now, let me introduce to you the ultimate dream of every woman, the fantasy of ecstacy, the perfection of god's creation. Now, before they come out...[much booing]...I need to worn you, not of their hypnotic good looks but the, lack of, from their partner for this match. He's the opposite of perfection. He's hygiene isn't quite up to homeless person standards, but he can stomp a mud-hole through any wrestler in this federation. Here are everything a man wants to be, and everything a woman wants to be with. "The Universal Heartthrob" Agito Nakajima and "Sweet" Sho Satsuma, the FABULOUS ONES!!!! [Dokken's "Kiss of Death" plays on the PA, as Agito and Sho step out from behind the curtain followed closely by an Armani original suit wearing Mr. Tsuburaya. Agito is wearing his black silk, oriental styled, robe and Sho has on his black leather tuxedo jacket with tails, and tassels that line the bottom of his sleeves. Agito, and Mr. Tsuburaya continue to walk towards the ring as Sho stops and spins around, soaking in the female led cheers. He stops spinning and poses for pictures.] MM: And they are accompanied by every humans nightmare, along with his... [A voice over the PA cries "Ah, shut up!" as Awesome T steps out of the entranceway, mic in hand] SR: NO! NO! I want to know who they brought! Someone slap that man! TD: Didn't you watch Countdown? They announced who it was there! SR: Sorry, I was off sampling native culture. Who was it? TD: You'll find out... AT: Hey, AbFabs? You think you were pretty smart at War Room, huh? Thinking how now you can duck the Down Boys? Fat chance. Adam Peterson could whip up you two and whatever slob your bitch manager brought in... [Miki's jaw drops as Nakajima and Satsuma fume] AT: ...but the boss man says we need two more men. Well, I went out and got us two gentlemen who will be more then happy to stick their boots so far up your rears that they'll be hitting tonsil! SR: Speaking of that, Dross, we need to hit the bars after this... TD: Steve, please! AT: So, without further ado... [Dan Oliver, on crutches, and Adam Peterson walk out, arms crossed, hair lovingly crafted, tights glowing, flanking Awesome T.] AT: Let's bring out... [Mystical lyrics waft out over the PA: # Oh Nobly Born Let thy mind be not distracted Though the road ahead is hard and long And the journey seems without ending. And that which thou art let thy gaze be not deflected. Fix thy attention on the goal on the light shone celestial # [The fans have flipped as they recognize the entrance music...] AT: THE NATURAL PREDATORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRS!!! [Indeed, Kuyler Greyson leading the way, Bear and Grey Phoenix step from behind the curtain, as the Fabulous Ones look on in shock] SR: NOOOOOOOOOOO! NOT THEM! NOT THEM! TD: The Down Boys just got the World Tag Team champions to jump in! They beat the Ones last week... and look at Nakajima and Satsuma! [Indeed, they do not look like happy campers as the five make their way to the ring, Greyson and Awesome T on either side of Dan Olive, on crutches, while Bear, Grey Phoenix, and Adam Peterson all greet the fans warmly, shaking hands...] SR: Man, this sucks! TD: What? Steve, you've got three great tag teams... SR: But it's Down Syndrome and the Natural Bedwetters! All we're missing is the American Drag-Ons, and we'll have more gay guys them Key West on a Memorial Day weekend! Dross, they could walk out J.W. Hardin as their mystery partner, those AbFabs, and Soundbite would still be depressed! [A chant of "Smile, Soundbite, Smile!" begins somewhat from the L'il Soundbiters...] TD: ADAM PETERSON IS DOWN! He was walking up the ring steps and... SR: YES! YES! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES! [Indeed, Peterson was the last man to enter the ring... and is holding his head as Damien Lestat pounds him with Mr. Coolie!] SR: IT'S HIM! IT'S "THE DEMON!" Now maybe I can sit through this match! [At this, the Fabulous Ones charge across the ring and attack Bear and Grey Phoenix! Agito Nakajima pounds on Bear, while Sho Satsuma nails a dropkick right to the face of Grey Phoenix!] SR: The beefcakes went out and got the ugliest boy in the fed, Dross! TD: Lestat just pounding away on Adam Peterson with that cooler, while the ref is trying to get some order! [The ref manages to get the Fabulous Ones away from the Predators, and Damien Lestat makes his way into the ring. He makes a retching sound, and spits into the crowd... although most of it ends up back in his beard, a good portion hits some fans. Awesome T and Greyson manage to get their men in the corner nearest to the announcer's table, while Satsuma and Lestat stand on the apron, Sho keeping away from the cavity-stricken smile of Lestat] TD: Sho not too comfortable with his choice in partners... SR: Screw that! This rocks! The Soundbite is one happy man! [Bear and Agito start out for their teams, both men circling around each other, feeling out... and a lockup. Bear comes off with a headlock, and he goes to whip Nakajima to the ropes, but instead he spins and takes "The Universal Heartthrob" down to the mat! Pop as Bear now switches to a chinlock, and reaches over to tag in Adam Peterson!] SR: Gay guy #2 is in... [Peterson waits as Bear presses Nakajima over his head...and throws him at Peterson! Peterson waits....and catches Agito with a dropkick in mid-air! Nakajima rolls to his corner as Peterson raises his hands to a cheering crowd] TD: Awesome T and Greyson smile on the outside. You think maybe they got together earlier in the week to discuss strategy? SR: Oh, they got together alright... I'm talking in the carnal sense. Plug A into Socket B, right, Dross? TD: That is probably the most disgusting thing I've heard come from your lips, Soundbite. SR: Wait until I get my pay raise! Come on, Spreadbury, get that paperwork moving! [A tag is made to Sho, and he steps in as Peterson stands up from a quick word with Awesome T. Sho comes right in and catches Peterson with a leg sweep, knocking the Down Boy to the mat!] TD: And down goes the Down Boy! SR: Geez, Dross, that has to be the worst thing I've ever heard come from your lips. [Sho picks up Peterson, and hurls the lighter man into the corner! Sho follows up with a well place kneelift! Ms Miki claps her hands in delight... Mr. Tsuburaya looking on, stone faced. Sho then drags Adam Peterson over to his corner... and quickly slaps hands with Damien Lestat.] SR: And here comes the freak! [Lestat jumps on top of Adam Peterson and begins wailing away! No finesse here, just rights and lefts as Damien cackles wildly! Peterson cover his face...and brings his legs up around Lestat's throat! He pushes him backwards, and the ref counts: 1 -- 2 -- and Lestat kicks out! Adam Peterson stands up, and meets Damien Lestat halfway with a perfectly executed head scissors!] TD: Adam Peterson now tagging in Grey Phoenix... SR: Oh, great, more gay guys! TD: Grey Phoenix now... SR: Nope, I'm talking about them! [Just as Phoenix stomps away on the fallen Damien Lestat, the crowd buzzes as the American Dragons make their way to the ring. A few cups fly, and the fans chant a "USA SUCKS!" chant, but it doesn't bother Joe Scalercio and Bob Ivey, who carry black steel chairs under their arms] SR: I knew it! So much for WRESTLE CLEAN! TD: The Dragons victims of a Fabulous Ones' assault this past Wednesday... and here they come with chairs. SR: I knew they couldn't keep up their good two-shoes attitude! Three weeks, and they're going hardcore! [Joe and Bob split up as they approach the ring. Sho notices Scalerio and points him out to his partner! They brace for the assault... but Joe simply unfolds the chair and sits down. He crosses his arms and stares at the Fabulous Ones from over the top of his wire-rimmed sunglasses. In the ring, Grey Phoenix has tagged in Bear, and Damien Lestat is the unfortunate recipient of a double face slam from the Natural Predators] TD: And here comes Bob Ivey... [As Bear performs a HUGE suplex on "The Demon", Bob comes over to Awesome T, Dan Oliver, and Kuyler Greyson. He says a few words to all three, shaking his head for emphasis. All three nod, and Bob unfolds his chair and takes a seat in the Predator's corner, back facing the announcers] TD: The American Dragons taking an interest in this match-up... [Bear meanwhile has pressed Damien over his head....and goes for a body slam, but Damien slips down behind him and catches the IIWF's strongest man with a forearm shot! Bear staggers....] TD: GOOD GOD! DAMIEN LESTAT IS BITING BEAR! SR: Hot damn! I ain't seen a set of choppers like that since "Dawn of the Dead!" You know I was an extra in that movie, Dross? Yep, I was the third zombie who got hit by Roger's truck... TD: For God sakes! The crowd is on edge, and Lestat is chomping on Bear, and you're talking about a movie career worse then Simon Lebec's? SR: Aw, I'm wounded, Dross buddy. [Lestat reaches over and tags in Agito Nakajima, who promptly body slams Bear! He does the "Nagata Strut"... and reaches over to slap Grey Phoenix in the mouth! Phoenix blocked by the ref, and Agito takes advantage by choking Bear! Well beyond the five count, the ref turns back to see Sho and Damien holding Bear in the corner, while Nakajima works him over with kicks to the stomach. All the while, Sho keeps glancing an eye over to Joe Scalercio, who hasn't moved since sitting down] TD: A tag to "Sweet" Sho... and Agito has Bear in a press slam position! What power, Steve! SR: I ain't talking to you, Dross. You insulted me. Worse then Lebec?! You have to be kidding! [Sho has gone up top... and he comes off with an elbow to the throat of Bear! Bear goes 360 and Sho covers! 1 -- 2 -- Bear kicks out! Pop for the big man as Sho lines up and dropkicks Bear right to the back of the head] Peterson and Grey Phoenix look on as Sho now whips Bear to the ropes... Bear reverses, and Sho Satsuma is sent for the ride! Sho runs into Bear... BELLY-TO-BELLY! And a hot tag to Grey Phoenix...who tags in Adam Peterson! Bear lifts Sho up and holds him... double dropkick by the Down Boy and the Natural Predator! Bob Ivey claps at ringside, and taps Kulyer Greyson on the shoulder] BI: Mr. Greyson, that was a hell of a move. You and T got damn good teams. AT: Thanks, Bob. BI: Hey, T, we're up for a rematch any time y'all want one. And Mr. Greyson? What's up with that open contract? [Kuyler begins to answer, but he's interrupted by a hooting "Demon".] DL: COME ON, YA PIECE OF [BLEEP]! COME OVER HERE AND DO THAT TO MY FACE! [Adam Peterson has tagged back in Grey Phoenix...who obliges Lestat by hurling Sho right at him! Sho and Lestat collide and go flying to the floor... right at Joe Scalercio's feet!] TD: Well, Steve? Are the Dragons' going to attack here? SR: I said I ain't talking to you... [Grey Phoenix celebrates in the ring...but is taken from behind by a HUGE Agito Nakajima clothesline!] TD: The ref says Sho tagged in Agito while he was flying! Now that's teamwork! Huh, my tag team partner? SR: Flattery will get you nowhere but down LaRue's pants, Dross. [Joe looks at Sho, who backs away from Scalercio and Lestat. Sho climbs up on the apron, looking to see if Joe will attack...but all he sees is Lestat face-to-face with Joe.] DL: I AIN'T HAD THIS MUCH FUN SINCE I TOOK FIVE BUCKS IN CHANGE AND [BLEEP]ED YOUR MOTHER! [Joe's eyes grow cold, and his fists curl, but he remains still as Lestat climbs back up on the apron.] TD: Oh, come on, Steve Roberts! That's perfect for you! SR: Dross, you hurt my feelings... [On cue, a section of young man clad in leather jackets, bare-chested underneath, stand up and start singing "Feelings". Dross looks shocked as he motions for them to sit down! Meanwhile, there IS a wrestling match going on, as Agito has tagged in Satsuma... both men stand Grey Phoenix up in the middle of the ring... off the ropes...HIGH CLOTHESLINE! Now again... Sho goes low, Agito high, and hit the Flat Tire! Sho covers: 1 -- 2 -- and Phoenix kicks out, much to the delight of the crowd!] TD: Steve, I meant for that to happen later... SR: Oh, sure, first my acting, and then my SINGING! Dross, I've carried you for all these years, and now you turn... [Sho with a snap suplex, and he follows up with an elbowdrop on Phoenix] SR ...humiliate me on national TV... in front of all these lovely Latin ladies, all these hot chicks who want to know how Poppa Soundbite measures up... [Sho tags in Lestat, who basically headbutts Phoenix in the nose] SR: ...well, the Soundbite don't need this! I got offers! I got options! I got an upcoming guest spot on "Dharma and Greg"! I don't need you making fun of me, Dross! [Lestat goes to take Sho back in, but switches and hits Nakajima instead, an evil grin on his face. Nakajima looks stunned as Damien steps out, and "The Universal Heartthrob" not to happy about being tagged back in] SR: I can walk! There's other feds... other babes... other bars... BI: AW, SHUT UP AND CALL THE MATCH!! [Dross and Roberts are speechless as Bob Ivey turns his attention back to the match at hand, Greyson chuckling a bit. Nakajima having some words with Lestat, who cackles and spits again, almost hitting Ms. Miki. Sho tries to break the two men apart...giving Phoenix the time to get up and dive across the ring, and he tags in Adam Peterson! Agito turns around to see one very active Down Boy fly across the ring and take him down with a high cross body...and a dropkick to Sho Satsuma to boot!] TD: Peterson cleaning house as he picks up Nakajima... side suplex! And now to the second turnbuckle... falling elbow! SR: Damn those gay guys. Can I go beat them up, Dross? TD: You'll stay right there, Steve Roberts. [Steve has pointed a finger at Bob Ivey, who was watching Adam Peterson whip Sho to the ropes and take him down with a flying clothesline] SR: I'm a star! You're just some two bit hack with a slogan you ripped off from a one-eyed freak! BI: Hey, Steve? I have something to say... SR: Yeah, go ahead. BI: Naughty Nun night at the Beaver Trap. SR: What? [Bob raises his arm...] SR: What about it? I remember Sister Mary Muff and Sister Mary Munch... BI: HIT IT, BOYS! [CROTCH CAM shot on Steve Roberts!] SR: NO! NO! TD: Saluting the flag? SR: Agh! It's the right wing conspiracy, Dross, I know it! They're trying to get me to make Chelsea talk! Well, no way! [Bob turns his attention back to the match, and so do we. Bear has been tagged in, and is on his third choke on Sho Satsuma. On four, Bear breaks...only to go right back] TD: Bear looks right mad, Steve... [Bear looks up... and is caught in the face by a Damien Lestat boot! The ref tries to get Damien Lestat back to his corner, but Lestat pushes the ref away!] DL: SCREW THIS RESTHOLD [BLEEP], LET'S JUST BEAT THE HELL OUT OF THEM! [With that, Damien tears into Bear! Kicking, screaming, he lays into the big man. Agito gets to his feet as Sho comes into try to help... but he turns to look at Joe, who still sits. Sho turns back... but is hit by a Grey Phoenix elbow smash!] TD: Joe Scalercio distracting Sho Satsuma, and it allows Grey Phoenix to get a hit in! Is this the Dragons' revenge? They've been doing nothing, but the Ones are still freaked out! [The match has broken down... Sho Satsuma and Grey Phoenix are duelling, Damien Lestat is biting Bear again, and Adam Peterson is ducking away from Agito Nakajima's punches. It's chaos in the ring yet again tonight, and the fans surge against the security guards, trying to get a better view.] TD: It's breaking down! All order is gone! [Dan Oliver tries to get up in the ring, but is held back by Awesome T. The ref looks around, confused as all hell, trying to figure out what to do] TD: He needs to make some sort of decision here... [Adam Peterson has just doubled over Agito with a kick... and he's looking confused as what to do next.] SR: I knew it! They fall apart when it counts! [Just as it looks like the moment will pass by...] TD: IT'S MR. COOLIE! JOE SCALERCIO PICKED US MR. COOLIE AND SLID IT TO ADAM PETERSON! [Joe gives the camera a "Who, me?" look as Peterson goes to slam the cooler over the head of the "Heartthrob"... but it's taken away from him by Mr. Tsuburaya! He gets ready to clock Peterson over the head... but he's attacked from behind by Damien Lestat!] SR: Ah, the freak's lost it! What the hell is in that damn cooler? [Damien beats away on Tsuburaya, and the Fabulous Ones break away to pull "The Demon" off... he swings at them with Mr. Coolie, and hits the ref, who immediately signals for the bell! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: The bell has rung! SL: Ladies and gentlemen, as the result of a DQ, the winners of this match, the team of Adam Peterson and the Natural Predators! ["The Demon" clears the ring, holding Mr. Coolie and howling to the proverbial moon!] DL: GOOD GOD! THAT'S BETTER THEN SEX! [Lestat runs away, cackling. The Ones look around, seeing the celebrating team... and the American Dragons, standing outside, arms crossed, laughing their butts off.] TD: Revenge is sweet! The Dragons didn't do a thing, but they cost the Fabulous Ones the match! [The Ones figure this out, and clear the ring, walking right up to the Dragons. Luckily, security comes out and stands between the Dragons and the Ones, and both teams scream at each other as they're led backstage] TD: That's got all the makings of a good feud, Steve. SR: Yeah, yeah, gay guys ticked at each other. [In the ring, Dan has hobbled up, and is in the ring, celebrating with Adam Peterson and Bear and Grey Phoenix. All four acknowledge the crowd, who cheer in response...] TD: NO! NO! GOOD GOD, NO! [The crowd gasps... as Dan Oliver swings the crutch around and catches Bear in the back of the head! Grey Phoenix turns around... and is met by an Adam Peterson superkick!] SR: WOOHOO! The gay guys are going to town on each other! TD: Why? Why? Greyson turns to Awesome T, awe-struck... OH MY! [Awesome T has the Jay Bruhner baseball bat, and he clocks Greyson in the head with it! Greyson crumples to the ground as T screams at him!] TD: Why on earth...?! What happened? SR: Look! Dan Oliver's got Bear against the rail! [Indeed, Oliver's walking like he never was hurt...and he's got Bear outside the ring, resting against the steel guardrail with his neck on it. Dan gets in the ring... aims... measures...] TD: Oh, no... SR: YEAH! FLY, BADASS, FLY! [Oliver runs... and he planchas himself over the top rope into the front row! He slams into Bear, crushing the champion's neck between the rail and the Down Boy!] TD: Where's security! SR: Taking care of the Drag-Queens and the AbFabs! This rocks! [In the ring, Adam Peterson has been laying into Grey Phoenix with that baseball bat. Mercifully, Phoenix is out, but that doesn't stop Peterson from setting him up... and hitting the S.Y.P!] TD: Adam Peterson hits his signature move! Bear is clutching his throat on the outside, and Awesome T is kicking Greyson! AP: Hey, T? Can we? Huh? Please? AT: Oh, sure! [Dan Oliver goes up top, while Adam Peterson grabs Greyson! The fans gasp, as they know what's coming...] TD: Please! This has to stop! [Peterson smiles at Greyson... TILT-A-WHIRL BACKBREAKER! Oliver comes off the ropes with an somersault legdrop to complete the Unskinny Bop!] SR: Yeehaa! That fruit Ivey don't seem so bad right now! TD: Fans... the Down Boys have just laid out the champs! What is this? [T grabs the mic as Peterson and Oliver slide out of the ring, and grab the IIWF World Tag team belts from the ringside table! The three leave the ring, T still with the mic, and walk up the aisle:] AT: Hey, Preds? Remember when you hot-shotted us out of the title match as Snow Brawl? Call this payback. [The fans boo as T and the Down Boys approach the curtain...and T points to a nearby trash can:] AT: Guys, if we can't have the belts... no one can. Not the Fabulous Ones, not the Prophets of Rage... not those "Play Clean!" American Dragons... and definitely not these morons. [Peterson and Oliver nod as they throw the title belts in the trash can! The fans throw everything they can get their hands on as the Down Boys leave to a massive heel response, fans hurling garbage at them as they disappear back to the locker rooms.] TD: A truly shocking turn of events here tonight, Steve Roberts! The Down Boys have turned on the Natural Predators, and the IIWF World Tag Team Champions are laid out on the outside here! Apparently this was all a set-up from the beginning! Unbelievable! SR: You have to admit it was kinda neat, Dross. Even Awesome T got in on the act. TD: I think it was despicable, Steve Roberts -- and for the Down Boys to deface the World Tag Team belts by dumping them in a trash can... I'm lost for words. The Down Boys disgust me. [The huge Bear pushes his way out from under the crowd barrier that was felled on top of him, and fights his way back to his feet. He moves over to his manager, Kuyler Greyson, who is clutching at his back as he lies on the arena floor. Bear helps Greyson to his feet, and the manager lolls against the apron, apparently in some pain. The Grey Phoenix, meanwhile, is slowly beginning to stir after the shots from the Jay Buhner baseball bat. A medical team makes its way down to ringside and crowds around the tag champs, assisting them back up the aisle. Cut to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: Folks, I'm sure there will be some severe repercussions after what we've just seen -- and I wouldn't want to be the Down Boys when the Natural Predators recover from this beating. We must move on to our next match -- which pits the only two men still in the IIWF who were part of Genesis, the stable that terrorised the IIWF for the majority of last year: the "Epitome of Evil" Serge Annis, who is desperate to take home the winner's purse again after a shocking defeat to Charles Scheffield some ten days ago, faces Edmund Fitzgerald, who had such a brutal encounter with the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi on Wednesday night. Let's get up to the ring. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| Serge Annis vs. Edmund Fitzgerald |_||_| \_/\_/ |_|.................................................... WRITER: Mike Beeby [Sparkplug Lee takes his position in the centre of the ring, and looks around nervously at the angry fans at ringside, many of whom yell obscenities at the hapless ring announcer in Spanish.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a regulation time limit. SR: There's a regulation time limit? Dammit, must be that Wrestle Clean thing again. TD: Hush. SL: Introducing first, he is a member of the tag team known as Cold Spell, from Rogers City, Michigan and weighing in at 280 pounds, he has been a world tag team champion on numerous occasions, here is... EDMUND FITZGERALD! [As the stadium crowd begins to cheer, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" by Gordon Lightfoot starts to play from the PA system around the building. As spotlights hit the wrestlers' entrance Edmund Fitzgerald appears, walking out from the locker room and gazing at the crowd. He's dressed in his regular ring attire, as well as a plastic toy firefighter's hat on his head, and carries a fire extinguisher. Fitz walks down the aisle towards the ring, pretending to spray a few fans along the way and joking with the crowd.] TD: Well, it looks like in the tragedy of Icehawk's injuries, his rapport with the crowd seems to have rubbed off on Icehawk's partner Edmund Fitzgerald. SR: Once a gay guy, always a gay guy. [Fitzgerald rolls under the bottom rope and stands, leaning in the corner of the ring while Sparkplug Lee begins to announce his opponent for this evening.] SL: And his opponent... From Oakville, Ontario, Canada and weighing in at 290 pounds, he is a former UWF Heavyweight Champion and is known worldwide as the Epitome of Evil, here is... SERGE ANNIS! [The lights in the arena drop out, and darkness fills the stadium. The first few bells to "Hands of Death" by Rob Zombie and Alice Cooper ring out, and the crowd delivers a wild heel pop. As the music starts into the beginning of the song, the lights come up slightly, to an eerie crimson glow. Serge Annis walks out of the locker rooms into the head of the aisle, and the crimson spotlight follows him as he begins to walk down the aisle. Noticeably absent from the entrance is the bevy of pyrotechnics that Serge usually commands, but making up for it Serge walks with a steel chair in his hand. The chair has several strands of barbed wire wrapped around it, and Serge walks defiantly to the ring. He steps over the top rope and extends his arms in a cross position, hanging his head, and then slam his hands down, which normally sets up the six foot flames to shoot from the turnbuckles. However, no fireworks explode due to the ruling against Serge. Instead, the lights drop again, and the only visible light comes from the stands, where hundreds of hardcore Annis fans hold up zippo lighters in homage. A loud thud is heard, and as the bell rings, the lights come back up to a curious sight. Edmund Fitzgerald is out on the mat, with the steel chair on top of him, while Serge staggers around blinded, a white mist surrounding his head and the fire extinguisher dropped near him.] TD: Dear god, what happened in those few seconds? SR: Come on Dross, don't tell me you can't figure it out? It's obvious to anyone with half a brain that Sparkplug took the chair and smashed Fitz with it, then sprayed Annis in the eyes with that fire extinguisher. TD: Have you been accepting gifts of Wild Turkey again tonight? [Annis begins to rub his eyes and clear them, then takes off the t-shirt he'd been wearing in the entrance, which reads "Genesis Lives" in bloody red letters. He tosses it to the floor, and Edmund Fitzgerald slowly returns to his feet, holding his head. Annis kicks him in the stomach and throws him into the ropes, but Fitz turns an attempted backdrop into a snap DDT into the mat. Fitz rolls out of the ring with the fire extinguisher and sets it down, then takes the firefighter's hat and hands it to a small child in the front row, the young fan accepting it with stars in his eyes. Fitz tries to return to the ring and is greeted with another kick in the midsection, and a vertical suplex carries him back into the ring. Serge gets up and throws Fitz into the corner, then grabs him by the chin and begins to berate him: "Think you're good enough to leave Genesis huh?" *Smack* "You aren't good enough to lick my boots!" *smack* "You want to remember something? Huh?" *smack* "I'll give you something to remember!" *Smack* "Who's the damn man now, huh? HUH?" *smack* Fitz grabs Annis by the head and reverses positions with him, smacking him with a series of open handed chops to the throat and then delivers a front jawbreaker to jack his jaw. Annis grabs his chin and Fitz takes him down in a fireman's carry, rolling him onto his back. He grabs Annis by the arm and executes an armlock, but drops a leg across the forearm and wraps it around for added leverage, he seems to be intent on breaking the arm of the Epitome.] TD: Edmund Fitzgerald goes to work on the upper appendage of Serge Annis, but Serge gets out of it with a poke to the eye. Wait, there goes Fitz through the ropes, and Annis bounces off the opposite ropes. A PLANCHA! Serge Annis just attempted a somersault plancha, and he's flattened Fitzgerald at ringside! SR: Serge f'n Annis drops a helluva bomb on his ex-Culture Club teammate. Wow! That's gonna leave one humungous mark. TD: Indeed. Serge picks up the top section of the stairs, and throws them away. He's dragging Fitz to the stairs and lays him across the bottom section. Elevated Legdrop! [Annis tries to break Fitz's neck with a legdrop across the neck of the former tag champion, but Fitz gets out of the way and Serge lands with his leg striking the edge of the steps, half on and half off. He looks to be in tremendous pain, and Fitz rolls him to the floor and stomps on the back of Serge's neck, then grabs him and digs a knee in. Edmund rolls into the ring and breaks the referee's count, then back out to the floor and grabs Annis in a front facelock. He smashes him into the guardrail by the face and then drops him in a hotshot, again Serge's throat catching the top of the guardrail. He lies on the floor as Fitz stands over him, but Serge struggles back to his feet and leans on the edge of the ring, until Fitz grabs him and bends him over to pound a forearm into the small of Serge's back. It puts him on his knees, but Serge delivers a very evening low blow, reducing Fitz to the same position.] TD: This match has taken a turn for the worse. Both men seem to completely disrespect the other, and it's all because of Genesis. SR: Hey, Fitz believes he and Chickenhawk were sold out in that OldGen-NewGen match, and Serge was offended when Fitzy tried to make a pass at him. TD: That's a lie and you know it, Steve Roberts. SR: Prove it, Toupee Tim. [Serge is up first and grabs Fitzgerald, lifting him up for a powerbomb and slamming him down on the bottom section of ringsteps, the metal thud resounding throughout the arena. Serge now rolls into the ring to break the ten count, and then back out, reclaiming his chair with the barbed wire on it. He wedges it under the bottom rope and the canvas, then pulls Fitz to his feet and proceeds to try to smash him headfirst into it. The referee grabs it away first, and Fitz's head bounces off the mat harmlessly instead. Serge glares at the referee, who tosses the chair out to the other side of the ring, and the Epitome of Evil pushes him back into the ring and follows through the ropes. He grabs Fitzgerald by the legs and slingshots him into the ringpost, then catches him on the rebound and executes a back suplex. Fitz hits the mat and rolls, while Serge stands on the middle turnbuckles at the fans, and draws a heated response as he gives the crowd of fans the proverbial bird.] TD: Oh, that's not good, these fans are already near riot form. And being flipped off by Serge Annis won't exactly keep them from rushing the ring. SR: Aw let them try. I've got my Asai moonsault, and you've got... well, I've got my Asai moonsault. [Fitzgerald works to his feet, and as Serge jumps down he dives at him with a shoulderblock to the gut, knocking Serge into the corner. Edmund Fitzgerald rocks Serge with a series of quick forearm shots to the head, then grabs his head and bends him over for another sharp elbow to the back of the neck. Fitz grabs Serge and pulls him into the middle of the ring, sets up and delivers a piledriver. One isn't enough, and Fitz picks Annis up and does it again, this time executing a tombstone version of a piledriver. Annis lies motionless and Edmund Fitzgerald returns to his feet, hearing the cheers from the crowd as he bounces off the ropes and jumps, coming down with a legdrop. Serge gets out of the way just in the nick of time, and it's a race to see who can stand first. They actually get up at the same time, and Serge grabs Edmund by the throat and delivers a sloppy version of his chokeslam finisher, just throwing Fitz backwards to the mat by the throat.] TD: Oh my! He struck with the Epitomizer, kind of. [Serge gets to his knees, then rises to his feet with a look of determination on his face. He gets a sick grin for a moment, then pulls Fitz back to his feet by the hair and lifts him up again, preparing for the Epitomizer once more. The legs of Fitz are swept out, and Serge drives him into the canvas with incredible force, the chokeslam knocking him out. Serge covers slowly, and the referee makes the count: 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner... SERGE ANNIS! [The lights in the stadium drop once more, crimson spotlights bathing the ring in their bloody light, as Annis pulls himself to his feet, and stands above the winded form of Fitzgerald, yanking his arm away from the official as he attempts to raise it in victory. Annis moves to the corner of the ring nearest the aisle and climbs the buckles, beckoning for somebody to come out to the ring. The fans crane their necks to see who might be coming out... but the aisle remains empty.] TD: Serge Annis victorious here over Edmund Fitzgerald... and he appears to be calling out Mad Dog Watkins, Steve Roberts! To the best of my knowledge, Watkins isn't here in the arena tonight -- he's on a reduced schedule at present to try and heal his burns and injuries before he faces Steve "the Fury" Kowalski for the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship in Canada next Sunday night. SR: Aw, we's going to the Skydome, Dross. TD: Indeed we are... and Annis is still standing on those buckles. Oh my! Look -- Fitz is on his feet! [The crowd begin to cheer once more as Fitz has apparently rolled to the outside, and grabbed his discarded fire extinguisher from the floor before sliding back into the ring. He now approaches Annis from behind, wielding the fire extinguisher like a weapon. The fans cheer Fitz's approach!] TD: Oh my! Fitz is clutching that fire extinguisher again -- I don't think Annis knows he's behind him... [Fitz raises the extinguisher above his head and prepares to drive it into the small of Annis' back when... Annis turns! Annis turns around and sees Fitz clutching the big metal cylinder! Annis dives from the mid-buckle onto Fitz, knocking the fire extinguisher from his hands, and sending it rolling across the mat to the outside, where it hits the steel crowd barriers with a loud clang. Annis and Fitzgerald, meanwhile, roll around the ring themselves, each man jostling for position to be on top and thus have the advantage with the blows he is firing. The official attempts to get between the two men, but is shoved roughly to the mat by Fitz as the two men continue to wail away at one another!] TD: Oh, this is out of control! These two men could seriously injure one another right here! SR: Let 'em go, Dross! Whoo-hoo! TD: Here comes security... and Ike Sampson is leading the charge! SR: Murderer! Damn you, Sampson! Damn you and your hot dogs! [Ike Sampson dashes down the aisle, closely followed by a half dozen burly security personnel, and the Jobber Justice Squad, complete with a handful of minis, who cartwheel down the aisle, and then find they are unable to get up onto the apron. As Sampson attempts to pull Fitz and Annis apart, surrounded by a circle of security guards, the minis try to work out how to get into the ring. Their attempts to leap onto the apron fail miserably, and so too do attempts to balance on one another's shoulders. In the end, mini-Meatman has the brainwave of leaping up onto the announcers table, and jumping from there. He clambers up onto the table, but finds himself roughly shoved off by Steve Roberts.] SR: Damned midgets. What the hell is the world coming to, Dross?! TD: Ike Sampson appears to be having only limited success keeping Annis and Fitz apart here, folks, and this capacity crowd is getting more excitable by the second! [Finally, Fitz is dragged from the ring and forced up the aisle, trying to break through the human barrier of four or five security guards who try to get him away from ringside. Annis, in the ring, picks up the "Genesis Lives" t-shirt he wore to the ring, pulls out his zippo lighter... and sets fire to the shirt! Annis finally departs, giving one final shove to Ike Sampson, as officials grab the fire extinguisher and put out the shirt. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside. Behind Dross and Roberts, various fans may be seen making obscene gestures at the cameras, and yelling angrily in Spanish.] TD: A big win for Serge Annis here in... [Dross is shoved from behind by a fan. Both announcers turn to the fans behind the guard rail.] SR: Hey, moron -- leave my buddy Dross alone, capische? You understand me, moron? I'll beat your damned brains out! TD: Certainly an excitable crowd on hand here tonight, folks. That's it for our first hour, people. We'll be right back in a few short moments with more incredible IIWF action, including that big four-way match featuring Shadoe Rage and Steve Manning, and our main event: Steve "the Fury" Kowalski defending his IIWF World Heavyweight Championship against former champion, the Subway Psycho. Don't go away! [Cut to a wide-angle shot of the ringside area, a proliferation of orange-shirted security staff visible around the perimeter of the ringside barriers as they attempt to keep the crowd under control. The multi-coloured beams of spotlights play over the angry fans as the shot fades.] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+