________ ______ __ ____ ___ __ . _ ___ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| / /\ | | || \| \ /\ \ / |\ || / \| | | | || | \ v v / | __| \__ /__\ | | ||__/| |/__\ v | \||| __|-| | |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| \ \| v | \|__/ \| | || \_|| | | __________________________/...hour one...\........|...|.......|....| LIVE! Nagano, Japan 28 February 1998 [The opening graphics fade through to interior shots of the jam-packed figure skating stadium in Nagano, Japan, only recently vacated after the Winter Olympics, 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: Welcome everybody to Nagano, Japan! Welcome everybody to the latest stop on the Road to Ring Wars V! Welcome everybody to the hottest two hours of wrestling on the planet! Welcome everybody to 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: "Bring On The Ugly Guys".] TD: Howdy, folks, and welcome to this magnificent, brand-new stadium here in Nagano, Japan, only recently inaugurated as the venue for the skating competitions in the Winter Olympics. I'm Tim Dross, and beside me, as always, is my broadcast colleague and tag team partner, "Soundbite" Steve Roberts. SR: I's all slip-slidin' away, Dross buddy. Here we are in Japan, a week late for the Olympics, and tomorrow night we're gonna be in Toronto, Canada. Unbelievable. TD: Indeed, the IIWF truly is a global operation nowadays -- and what action is coming up over the next two hours! Our main event pits IIWF World Heavyweight Champion Steve "the Fury" Kowalski up against "Savage" Shadoe Rage in non-title action -- but with a catch. If Rage wins here tonight, he will face Kowalski -- or whomever has the IIWF World title come Ring Wars V -- in the main event at that pay-per-view, with stipulations of his own choosing! SR: This is it for the Ragester, Dross. This is it for my big, black brother Shadoe. Tonight's the night where he either makes that leap into the biggest of the big time, by beating the Fury -- or he falls at the last hurdle. TD: It's certainly been quite a month for Shadoe Rage, with some truly gruelling matches under his belt... but he has chosen not to use his booking rights to take a shot at either the World or Intercontinental titles. Rage has his eyes on a bigger prize: the World title at Wembley Stadium, London, England, in front of eighty thousand screaming fans... and now only three weeks away, folks! SR: I'm not sure he's gonna do it, though, Dross. Sure, the Fury's under a heck of a lot of fire these days -- that pansy-ass Gaines, Mad Dog Watkins tomorrow night in Toronto, and Serge Annis next week right here if he makes it past Watkins -- but ain't nobody gonna come close to stoppin' the trash-talking, the tough brawling, and the Skullpumping. TD: That's very true, Steve Roberts -- but what a punishing schedule the World Champion has been keeping up since winning the big prize back at Snow Brawl. Fans, don't forget: live tomorrow night on pay-per-view, Steve Kowalski faces Mad Dog Watkins in the Skydome in Toronto, representing the IIWF in the huge inter-federational event, the IIeW. It's going to be three falls, a Progressive Death Match, and we'll bring you all the action in the next few days, but you can catch it live, Sunday night, on pay-per-view! SR: Dross, it ain't even a Double Eye pay-per-view, and you're shillin' like there's no tomorrow. TD: It should be a great event, Steve Roberts. But enough about tomorrow night: we have tremendous action coming your way tonight, not least the Retirement Match scheduled between the Subway Psycho and Tony Starks. One of these men will wrestle his last IIWF match right here tonight. Both of these men have been in the Double Eye since the very beginning, and tonight we will see the end of a legacy. SR: Ain't nobody gonna miss the Psycho, Dross. He can head back to the retirement home now and let some young blood come up. With emphasis on the word "blood". TD: No surprise there, Steve Roberts. We'll also see a non-title Champion vs. Champion Match between the man who is just tearing the IIWF apart right now, the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi, and Duncan Macbeth, who has been besieged by Simon Lebec in recent weeks -- and we're also going to hear from Lebec live tonight, here in Nagano. SR: He's one crazy sumbitch, Dross, ain't no escaping that fact. Dunkin' Donuts doesn't know what's hit him -- literally. TD: Certainly Simon Lebec has been underhand in no small measure in his overtures towards the Intercontinental Champion -- and perhaps Duncan Macbeth will have a response for Lebec here tonight. We've got lots more incredible action coming your way, folks, including a "King of Japan" Tornado Match between Japanese favourites Team Sychosys and the Fabulous Ones to kick things off... SR: Funky Like A Monkey, baby dolls. TD: ...as well as Deathbringer going up against Steve Manning, "Rocket Man" Timothy N. Turner taking on "The Intrepid" Ryan Howard, and the American Dragons facing a mystery team in tag team action! SR: I know who it is, Dross. TD: No you do not, Steve Roberts. SR: Do too. TD: Let's not argue about that, Steve... hang on. That's Mad Dog Watkins! [The massive figure of Mad Dog Watkins slips out from the mob of fans in the front row of the arena. He adroitly jumps the steel retaining barrier for a man of his size -- and age -- almost knocking the timekeeper out of his seat in the process. Watkins, dressed almost completely in black -- black combat-style wrestling boots, black full length tights, and a black and forest green t-shirt that reads "Search and Destroy" -- slides into the ring and grabs the microphone that Sparkplug Lee was preparing to use the start the night's festivities. The crowd falls silent as MDW begins to speak, a sight that has been long coming...] MDW: Ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight? I don't mean to sound contrite, but I've done nothing but that since I stepped foot back in the IIWF a few months ago. An ugly bastard... demon seed himself... Serge Annis. [The crowd responds to the name of the "Epitome of Evil" with a large reaction of both boos and cheers.] Annis. The bane of my second term of duty in the IIWF. I thought you a would be easy pickings. I get the opportunity to jump one man upon my arrival, so I look at the card and see you had the chance to dance with two men I respect more than any other in this business -- Steve "The Fury" Kowalski and the Lone Wolf himself, Brody Thunder. [Big crowd pop at the mention of the World champ and ex-champ's names.] I didn't think you deserved the chance you were afforded so I thought I'd take it away from you, like stealing candy from a baby. Turns out I was wrong -- wasn't as easy as I thought. You earned my respect my standing up to this old Dog. You dished it out even better than you took it. Put a hurtin' on my hide and got the juices flowing. Proved you deserved main event status and you were no fluke -- you had taken to step up to the top of the sport. But then you got greedy. Wanted to make yourself an overnight "Hardcore Legend" in the biggest and baddest federation on this damn planet. So you locked me up to a cage -- had me crucified and at your mercy. And then you brought the fire... you brought me hell. Well... as you can see, I'm fully recovered from that little stunt. I fact, I'm better than ever before because you helped open up my eyes to something that I hadn't seen in a long time. You let me into that dark, twisted psyche of yours and I caught a glimpse of that tortured, hellish world you inhabit. But you want to now what? It didn't work... I wasn't scared. I LIKED it!!! I liked it so much that I've decided to share it with the rest of the fellas here in the Double Eye. When I returned, I proclaimed the IIWF under siege. Today, I stand before you and proclaim that the seige is over, and the WAR has begun. Starting today, Mad Dog Watkins is starting his own little "War of Attrition" and I've got no allies, only enemies. Annis showed me Hell on Earth and I'm gonna share it with the rest of you all! Everyone out there had better hope someone survives the carnage to pick up the pieces, because if they don't, Mad Dog Watkins will bring this [BLEEP]in' fed to its knees. Consider yourselves warned. [The pounding sounds of the Rolling Stones' "Paint It Black" kicks in over the PA as Watkins leaves the ring to a huge pop from the Dogs of War, slipping back into the crowd, where he is mobbed by fans until he disappears from view. Cut back to Dross and Roberts at the broadcast table.] TD: Mad Dog Watkins, ladies and gentlemen -- an unannounced appearance to kick off our show tonight... but now we've come to the real reason we're here! SR: To see if more than the fish is raw? TD: No! We're here to put on some great wrestling matches! Let's get up to the ring so Sparkplug can introduce the combatants in our first encounter! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __|"TEAM SYCHOSYS FUNKY LIKE A MONKEY WORLD TOUR '98" |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| "KING OF JAPAN" TORNADO MATCH: Team Sychosys vs. Fabulous Ones ....................................................................... WRITER: Rusty Priske [Sparkplug Lee stands in the center of the ring with four oriental women behind him. Each one is holding a bouquet of roses.] SL: About to make her way to ringside is the ever beautiful Ms. Miki! ["Kimigayo", the Japanese national anthem, thrill the Nagano crowd. Ms. Miki comes through the curtains to the aisle way and is greeted with a huge ovation, wearing a red and black kimono, with her hair tied up in a bun. She enters the ring and Sparkplug Lee hands her the microphone.] MM: [Bowing to the crowd.] Konbanwa, Nagano! [Huge ovation] Ogenki desu ka! [The crowd cheered again, and a faint chant of "Genki Desu!"] I hope you've liked the show so far, but I'm sure the oiwai is going to get a little hotter, right now! They hail from the "Land of the Rising Sun" [huge ovation] Nagoya, Japan [another huge ovation] They're every ladies fantasy of the ultimate ecstasy of pleasure. In geneticist's circles, they are known as the perfect human beings. They're 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" engulfs the already thrilled crowd. The Fabs step out from behind the curtains and start posing, followed by twelve beautiful women dressed in white kimonos. They're carrying streamers which they pass out to the crowd. The women work their way down the aisle towards the ring. The crowd passes the streamers back, throughout. Mr. Tsuburaya, wearing a black Versace original suit, appears in the aisle way, to a monstrous ovation. He's well known for his charitable dealings throughout out Japan, as well as owning a huge movie company that's brought some of the biggest Japanese made movies to the screens. By this time the twelve ladies have walked around the ringside area continuing to hand out the streamers. The Fabs along with Mr. Tsuburaya make their way to the ring. Once there, the Fabs step into the ring as Ms. Miki steps out to stand alongside Mr. Tsuburaya who signs a few autographs for some of the fans. In the ring, Agito slowly, teasingly, strips off his black silk oriental style robe, as Sho slides off his black leather jacket with tails and tassels that run down the bottom of the sleeves. Both start posing for a sea of flashbulbs and a huge ovation. The music fades out and the twelve women walk back down the aisle way.] SL: And introducing their opponents... hailing from Tokyo, Japan and New England respectively... weighing in at a combined 457 pounds... "Sychosys" Joe Petrow... "Mr.Majestyk" Maurice McArthur... Team Sychosys! ["Let's Make A Circle And Dance" plays to a big pop from the crowd as they recognize the Snowlets theme music from the recent Olympics. Petrow and McArthur climb out of the crowd where they sit with their Sychopaths.] TD: Both of these teams are hugely popular here in Japan and... who is that? SR: It looks like the Yankee Drag-ons have decided to put in an early appearance! [Joe Scalerio and Bob Ivey have hopped over the barrier right behind Petrow and McArthur and are shadowing their every move. Finally Joe notices they are being followed and the two of them turn around to come face to face with the other team.] TD: The Fabulous Ones look poised to pounce on the Dragons but so far no one has made a move! Ivey is staring down Petrow and Scalerio has started yelling at McArthur! JS: Let me say this, pre-lim boy...you may be big stuff with "Crazy Joe" over here...but you touch us again, and I'll shove those curling brooms so far down your throat, they'll be touching pancreas. SR: It looks like the two new boys want a piece of crazy Joe! TD: Maybe so but it all seems to be ending peacefully. The American Dragons are heading back down the aisle and Team Sychosys is climbing into the ring...and streamers fly everywhere! SR: What is it with the Japanese and those stupid streamers? They throw them and clean them up...throw them and clean them up. What's the point? TD: They have done just that as the women in the ring have presented flowers to all the wrestlers. SR: Right _before_ the match! That's smart! They just have to give them back! TD: We're under way now! Remember that this is a "King of Japan" Tornado match! All four men are legal at any one time and the first decision goes to the winner! [All four men lock up, Sho and Joe, Agito and Maurice. They struggle back and forth but Sho gets the first advantage by scooping Petrow up and slamming him to the mat..] TD: Sho is doing the Nagoya Strut! What arrogance! SR: What style! Look at him flip the bird to Petrow! The crowd loves it! TD: He's so busy basking in the adulation of the crowd that he hasn't noticed Joe getting back to his feet! [Sho turns around, just in time to be turned inside out by a thunderous clothesline. Meanwhile Agito is laying out Maurice with a series of moves. A body slam, followed by a belly-to-belly suplex...and a quick two count.] TD: The Fabs almost picked up a quick win there! SR: When is Petrow going to realize what a weak link McArthur is? TD: Actually Maurice has been proving himself over and over! He totally held his own in the match with Macbeth and Turner last week! [Joe has picked up Sho and put him quickly back down with a Spinebuster. He follows quickly with a legdrop and then, as Sho tries to get back to his feet, he slaps on a backslide. Sho squeaks his shoulder up right before the three count.] TD: This time it's the Fabulous Ones who dodge the bullet! SR: Don't any of these guys work as a team? What's the point of calling yourself a team if you don't team up to pound guys? [Almost if on cue, Agito leaves the fallen McArthur to rush to Sho's aid. He knocks Petrow off balance with a shoulder block, allowing his partner to get to his feet. They hoist Joe up and...] TD: Amazing double brain buster! Agito drops for the count...but only gets two! SR: That's right! Ignore the easy guy to beat and concentrate on the tough guy! Smart move! [Sho grabs one of Joe's legs and slaps on an Indian Death Toe Hold. Maurice gets back into the act with a double sledgehammer blow to the back of Agito. All he really does is get his attention and the Fab one slaps on a bearhug.] TD: Both Fabulous Ones are trying for submission victories...the referee raises Maurice's arm...it drops once... SR: Big Joe is powering out of Sho's hold... TD: Maurice's arm has been raised again... SR: Joe is turning over... TD: His arm has dropped again! If it drops one more time... SR: Joe kicks him off! TD: He raises his arm for the third... [Sho is kicked free by Petrow and knocks into Agito, sending him and Maurice crashing to the mat...right before his arm can fall.] TD: Team Sychosys saved by a narrow margin! SR: Petrow bails Maurice again! [Both Fabulous Ones jump back to their feet and hit the ropes on opposite sides of the ring. They both fly at Petrow with clotheslines, their infamous "Panku" manoeuver, but at the last second Joe drops to the mat, allowing Sho and Agito to hit each other with the clotheslines and come crashing to the mat on top of Petrow. All three men lie in a heap.] TD: Three quarters of the men in the ring are down! McArthur rolls Sho over... and can only get a two count! What a nail-biter! What an opening match! [Petrow gets to his feet before Agito and comes face to face with Sho. He grabs him and puts him over with what looks like a spike Ocean Cyclone Suplex. He's got the bridge...] SR: There's no way the little guy is getting out of that one! TD: That's ONE! TWO! No! Agito managed to sweep Joe's legs out before the three! You can't get closer than that! SR: Joe looks stunned! He was sure he had him with that move! TD: Agito puts Maurice over with a belly-to-belly suplex! Joe is getting back to his feet but Sho has climbed to the top rope...Hotta Keki! SR: Bless you. TD: No, that's the name for that move! Agito just did a vertical suplex on Sho off the top turnbuckle right onto the fallen McArthur! Sho goes for the pin... but Petrow breaks it at two! [Agito slaps the bearhug back on McArthur while Petrow is occupied with Sho, trading punches.] TD: This is the move that nearly put Maurice out a few minutes ago...can he stand it now? [Petrow whips Sho into the ropes but the Fabulous One comes off with a flying dropkick...which Joe neatly sidesteps resulting in Sho's feet colliding with the back of Agito's head.] SR: That's one way to break the hold! [Joe picks up Agito but is quickly stopped by Sho clipping his knee from behind. As Petrow grabs his knee in pain as Agito climbs onto the turnbuckles. Sho scoops up Joe and puts him onto Agito's shoulders in position for a powerslam.] TD: It looks like a Dai Itai! This could end the match right here! SR: McArthur hit the ropes! [McArthur is grabbing the ropes and shaking them with all he has. This, combine with the weight of Petrow, throws Agito off and he falls to the mat, with Joe on top.] TD: Petrow lays across Agito so the ref is counting the pin...but Sho breaks it at two again! [While Sho starts laying rights and lefts into Petrow, Agito turns his focus to McArthur. Soon he has him in a Gorilla Press position.] SR: He's hoisting him like a big of rice! TD: Gorilla press slam over the top rope to the floor! How can anyone take that? SR: Agito thinks the same thing and he's enjoying the cheers from the fans! [Agito poses for the crowd as Petrow launches a flying clothesline at Sho. Sho ducks out of the way, much to the detriment of Agito who receives the full brunt, sending him crashing to the mat. Joe quickly rolls him up for the pin but Agito kicks out before the three.] TD: Joe nearly had him there! Sho is climbing to the top rope! Joe doesn't see him! SR: He's not going after Joe! [Sho launches himself with a dramatic flying cross body block onto Maurice McArthur on the concrete floor. Agito and Joe are pounding away at each other in the ring as Sho pulls Maurice to his feet on the floor. Sho Irish whips Maurice...] TD: Maurice McArthur goes right into the safety railing! SR: And Joe is in no position to bail him out! He's got his hands full with Agito! [Sho runs at Maurice and throws himself through the air with a full body smash...only to find that McArthur has regained his senses enough to back body drop Sho right into the crowd!] TD: Oh! Sho landed right on top off Timothy Turner's brother Tom, who is in the crowd tonight! SR: Yeah, he and his partner, Akira Saito, don't look thrilled at getting landed on! TD: We may have a confrontation right here! Maurice grabs Sho's head from across the railing... he's going to slam it into the steel! [Sho blocks the attempt...and reverses it! As Maurice's head bounces off the steel, Sho glares at Turner and Saito but hops over the railing before anything develops.] TD: Those two wrestle as a team here in Japan and I think they would love to get their hands on the Fabulous Ones! Sho has moved back to McArthur though and has layed him out on the timekeeper's table! SR: Table shot! Table shot! [In the ring, Petrow and Agito are still trading bodyslams and suplexes, without managing to get an advantage, though both men look nearly out on their feet. On the outside, Sho has climbed up on the table and...] TD: Sho kneedrops Maurice in the head and both men have gone crashing through the table to the floor! SR: Turner and Saito are yelling at the downed Sho but the Fab One is more concerned with the match! [Sho rolls Maurice into the ring with the last of his strength where Agito, just having dropped Petrow with a powerslam, awaits. Agito picks up McArthur and whips him into the ropes...] TD: Petrow steps in front of McArthur coming off the ropes...and backdrops him right onto...it's the McArthinsteiner! Team Sychosys got the McArthinsteiner on Agito! Petrow drops for the count! ONE! Sho is trying to climb into the ring! TWO! Sho has grabbed Petrow's leg! Too late! It's a three count! Team Sychosys has won it! SR: Joe is helping Maurice to his feet and and Sho is doing the same for Agito. [The four men look at each other...and shake hands to a huge ovation from the crowd.] TD: The Japanese fans really respect this show of good will between the two teams! [The two teams disengage and head back to the locker area, though not before the Fabulous Ones and the NorthPac Coalition, Turner and Saito, exchange a few choice words.] TD: What a match to kick us off here tonight -- and the "Funky Like A Monkey" tour, I am told, will continue next week in Sydney, Australia, with a Double Bullrope Match against the Machines. Folks, as you have seen, we have some special guests here in the crowd tonight -- the NorthPac Coalition, Tom Turner and Akira Saito, among them. Also present is IIWF newcomer Nick "the Schooner" McGill, and Larry Morton is down here at ringside to get a few comments from the youngster. Larry? [The camera cuts to Larry Morton who is standing front row, with Nick "The Schooner" McGill who is standing up out of his seat. McGill has short brown hair, and wears a Halifax Mooseheads hockey t-shirt, allong with blue jeans and deck shoes.] LM: Welcome to the IIWF, Nick McGill. I have to ask you just why you are out here tonight, front row? NM: Well, Larry, I'm out here to scope out all the great IIWF competition and talent. I mean, there's a huge difference to watching tapes of the guys, and to watching live and up close, in that ring. So I guess ya can say, Nick McGill's out here scouting everyone, to see what I have to look forward to. LM: Nick, you come to us from Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. Can you quickly tell us what brings you to the IIWF? NM: Well, it ain't greed. I'm here for competition. I admit, I'm a rookie and I'm still adapting to the big leagues here in the IIWF. I mean, I've wrestled small time East Coast promotions, and even a brief run in UWF, but nothing like the IIWF. The IIWF sets the standard of how good a man you can be, and I'm humbled just being here. To be signed to the IIWF is a real honour, that I think some wrestlers take for granted. LM: Well put Nick. Nick, enjoy the show, and I wish you all the best for your future in the IIWF. NM: Not a problem, I'm always here if ya need someone to talk to Larry. Thank you. [Nick shakes Morton's hand, and sits back down. Nick signs an autograph for a fan, as Larry throws it back to Steve and Tim.] TD: A fine youngster indeed, and one surely with a fine IIWF career ahead of him. Folks, we must press on with our next match, which pits the American Dragons against a mystery team who have been dogging them for the past couple of weeks, including costing them a match against the Fabulous Ones this past Wednesday when they jumped them backstage. SR: I know who they are, Dross. TD: Sure you do, Steve Roberts. Let's get up to the ring. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| American Dragons vs. MYSTERY TEAM |_||_| \_/\_/ |_|.................................................... WRITER: Joel Verlin [Cut back to the ring. The fever pitch is building for the second match of the card... the "mystery" match! Sparkplug Lee begins to introduce the first tag team... after noticing that he has a mustard stain on his tie. He shrugs and begins the introductions...] SL: And now ladies and gentleman the much awaited "mystery match up"! [The crowd gives Sparkplug a "get on with it" pop!] Introducing first... weighing in 556 pounds... here are Joe Scalercio and Bob Ivey -- they are The American Dragons! ["American Nightmare" by White Zombie plays as the Dragons come out to a very warm IIWF crowd! The Dragons high-five some fans as they head to the ring and once inside the ring they flex muscles and pump fists...getting mentally ready for what is about to come...] SR: Who is it going to be, Dross? TD: Your guess, Steve Roberts, is as good as mine. [Suddenly, "Volcano Girls" by Veruca Salt blares over the PA as a figure emerges through the wrestler's entrance that has not come through in quite a long while... and the crowd is surprised and pleased... as Asst. DA Brenda Hawkings comes down to ringside!] SR: No way! TD: Of course, Ms. Hawkings, has helped the IIWF win in some recent courtroom appearances... her legal skills are unmatched as far as I'm concerned! SR: I'll second that, Dross! She's read me my rights plenty of times! Private sessions, Dross. TD: I don't think we need to go any further down that road, Steve Roberts. [Asst. DA Brenda Hawkings now stands in the ring sucking up the cheers from the fans... and blows a kiss to Becky LaRue sitting in the front row! Hawkings then grabs the microphone from Sparkplug Lee and speaks...] BH: Ladies...and the less-enlightened gender [big pop from the female fans]...I present your latest addition to the IIWF tag team ranks. [hands Sparkplug a cue card, then addresses him cordially] Mr. Lee, tend to your duties... [Sparkplug Lee does so accordingly and...] SL: And now their opponents weighing in at 534 pounds and hailing from the Fifth Ward of Houston, Texas here is Lt. Jack Blazer and Sgt. Rey Garcia -- they are The Night Patrol! [Both Blazer and Garcia walk to the ring in their traditional police uniforms as the theme from "Dragnet" plays. Old time IIWF fans note the newcomer Garcia, replacing Lt. Keene. Garcia is a handsome Hispanic male with dark brown hair and eyes and olive complexion. The two charge to the ring and once inside, they salute Hawkings!] SR: Looks like it's Garcia, the newcomer, starting off for Night Patrol and Scalercio for the Dragons. They're back, Dross, they are actually back! [In the ring Garcia points mockingly at Scalercio who fumes and nail Garcia with a clothesline! Hawkings screams from the outside, and Scalercio tries a side suplex on Garcia... who counters with an elbow to the face followed by an uppercut. Garcia then starts choking Scalercio...] SR: The Patrol of old, back to their old tricks! TD: For those fans not familiar with Night Patrol, they were highly impressive in their first IIWF stint back in the first half of 1997, capturing the now-defunct IIWF United States Tag Team Championships, and scoring a number of famous victories over top teams - but their run came to an end when David Keene was recalled to Detroit. I guess Jack Blazer is tired of beating the streets again, and has found himself a new partner -- and Garcia is merciless in there! That's the third time he's applied that chokehold! [...until the four count as the referee warns Garcia. Garcia then hits Scalercio with several knife edge chops and powerslams Scalercio! The American Dragons are out of sync... and Garcia hits Scalercio with a DDT! Scalercio recovers quickly... and gets Garcia with a Dragon Sweep! Blazer enters the ring and pound on Scalercio. The referee sends Blazer back to his corner. Hawkings looks approvingly at Blazer. Scalercio then hits Garcia with a double underhook powerbomb...] TD: The Cherry Bomb! Scalercio's setting Garcia up and... [Scalercio locks on a Boston Crab, but Blazer again comes in and makes the save! Blazer and Garcia double team Scalercio. Garcia hits Scalercio with a standing drop kick and then Blazer follows with a sling shot brainbuster! Bob Ivey then enters the ring only to be tripped by Hawkings. Ivey gets up and glares at Hawking and starts heading over her way...] TD: The Night Patrol hasn't lost a step. [Back in the ring Ivey is standing right over Hawkings. Ivey is warning Hawkings to keep out of The Dragons' business. Garcia takes advantage of Ivey being distracted as Garcia places the stunned Scalercio on his shoulder and Blazer goes to the top rope. Blazer then executes a top rope powerslam on Scalercio just as Ivey turns around as Garcia covers Scalercio! Ivey heads back to the Patrol corner where Scalercio is being covered and is met by Blazer. Blazer nails Ivey and Garica gets 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] SL: Your winners as a result of a pinfall, The Night Patrol! [Garcia turns to the camera and says, "Predators, you're next!" Garcia and Blazer duck out of the ring and embrace, drinking in the jeers of the fans, as Brenda Hawking moves over to the barriers and gives old friend Becky LaRue a big hug. In the ring, Ivey is trying to console the frustrated Scalercio, who kicks the ropes in frustration. Soon, Scalercio breaks free of Ivey and leaps out of the ring after the Patrol, who beat a hasty retreat up the aisle, with Scalercio in hot pursuit! Big heel pop!] TD: Wild match and return for The Night Patrol! SR: I'm impressed, Dross. They are back in force and all the IIWF teams better be on the lookout. # Bad boys, bad boys whatcha gonna do when The Night Patrol comes for you? # TD: Please, Steve Roberts. Don't sing. SR: Next, I'm doing MC Hammer's "U Can't Touch This..." TD: Don't we have a commercial or something? SR: I'm Tim Dross, not only am I the President of Hair Club For Men, I'm also a client. TD: What ever did I do to deserve you? SR: Ya got lucky, Drossy! [Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: Folks, before our next match, which pits Steve Manning against the Deathbringer, we must get comments from a man who has been at the centre of a good deal of controversy recently: the so-called "Savior" Simon Lebec, who has been making the life of Duncan Macbeth something of a misery in recent weeks. If you'll excuse me, Steve Roberts. SR: Go right ahead, Dross. I can't wait to hear the latest pearls of wisdom from ol' Brother Simon. [Tim Dross leaves the broadcast table and enters the ring, carrying a microphone with him as he goes. He waits for the fans to settle before beginning.] TD: Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... "The Savior" Simon Lebec!!! ["The Theme from Flashdance" begins to play as Lebec appears through the curtain to a mixed response from the crowd, who still aren't quite sure of what to make of Lebec. Lebec is dressed in a pair of jeans and slippers. He wears a green, button down shirt to go with his minister's collar. His bald spot appears to be growing stubble, and his face shows about three days worth of hair growth. He carrys a toilet is his left arm, which gets some confused looks from the crowd. He has a newspaper in his back pocket. He smiles, shaking hands with the fans as he approaches Dross, who is waiting in the ring. Once in the ring, Lebec places the toilet down on the mat and extends his hand to Dross, who accepts it. Lebec then sits on the toilet and begins reading his newspaper as Dross begins to speak] TD: I guess the first question should be concerning the toilet. Why did you... [Lebec cuts Dross off and begins to speak] SL: It wouldn't 'cause o' no cult leader... tellin' me what ta do. An' it wouldn't 'cause o' no dog down th' street neither. [Lebec turns the page on his newspaper] Pr'haps it was all th' bran I ate, makin' m' insides wanna turn outside. Either way, I ended up here... th' pisser. A place where a man goes ta think... ponder... an' take a crap! [Lebec lights a cigarette and takes a drag.] An' it was here, that I had a vision. A vision o' me wearin' a black, lace-up, frilly dress. [Lebec turns the page] Only one other accessory though... th' IIWF Intercontinental Belt. [Lebec puts down the paper and looks into the camera] So... I went out... an' bought that there black, frilly dress, with matchin' satin shoes. Thing 'bout it was... it didn't fit. M' ass had blowed up durin' the time that I was away. [Lebec looks into the camera and grins] The belt, though? I'm purdy sure it's still a perfect fit. [Dross gives Lebec a confused look, before continuing] TD: Which brings me to my first question, Mr. Lebec. SL: That's Rev. Lebec, Tim. TD: Excuse me, Rev. Lebec. That brings me to my first question. You have most certainly been through a lot in the last eight months. Would you care to comment on that? [Lebec shakes his head] SL: That's all in th' past, Timmy. I don't wanna dwell on things I can't change anymore. I wanna dwell on m' future... in rasslin', an' in life. TD: Fair enough. Let's talk about your return to the ring. And what a return it looks to be, from an invitation to participate in the prestigous IIeW invitational tournament, next weekend in Toronto, to what appears to be an inevitable meeting with IIWF Intercontinental Champion, Duncan Macbeth. Your views? [Lebec pauses before answering] SL: What a ride! From th' nuthouse ta th' penthouse, all in th' matter o' a few months! Yeah, ol' Simon is back in th' hunt fer respect. I said it 'fore an' I'll say it again... March is MY month! Ya see this here Timmy... lemme show ya a little somethin'. [Lebec takes out two plane tickets out of his shirt pocket] Ya see, this one here is dated fer March 1st, and th' des'nation is set fer Tronna, Canada. I got me a date wit seven o' th' top stars in the world today. An' this other ol' ticket? Well, she's got a date fer March 21st, an' the des'nation set fer London. Though I don't have a date yet, I'm guessin' that ol' Macbeth will be lookin' ta take me out ta Wembley fer a match. TD: As always, you don't seem lacking in confidence. What are your views on the competitors you will be facing at the IIeW tournament, at the Skydome in Toronto? SL: M' views are quite simple Timmy. Ya got a few has-beens, some might-have-beens, an' a couple o' never-will-bes. I look down th' list, an' I see names like Creed, Otto, an' Hardin. All fine an' dandy when they were somethin'. Now, just a few guys needin' a big win so the mailman'll know where ta drop off their mail. Then ya got ol' Petrow. Only a star because others tell him so, not because o' anythin' noteworthy. He mighta been a contender, had he stuck wit singles. An' then from there, ya got a few guys that ain't nobody never heard of. Guys like Myers, LOCO, and the like... all just fillers ta put me over. Yessir... ya wonder why I got me some confidence? 'Cause dammit, I earned me this time ta shine. Fer years, I spent life makin' others look good. Makin' others laugh, either wit me or at me. An' the whole time, it didn't damn well get me to far. No m' friend. Not this here time. This here is m' time. M' time ta shine. Get a lil' respect that nobody ain't never given me. An' although nobody ain't expectin' ol' loonie Lebec ta do it, there's one person who does. An' that person is me! An' as long as that's th' case... it'll get done on th' 1st o' March. TD: I know that you're preoccupied with Duncan Macbeth right now, but are there any other wrestlers you can foresee battling in the future? [Lebec gives Dross a "What are you stupid" look] SL: Course there is Timmy! This here is th' Double Eye! I'm here fer th' same reason why everyone else is. I'm tuned in why everyone else is. 'Cause it's the best thing goin' today. There's an entire roster waitin' fer me after I take what I want from Macbeth. I got me a "Grizzly" who thinks he's th' top dog 'round, though I ain't never heard o' nothin' he's done. That kid could use some healin'. I got me guy named Petrow who thinks he's crazy. Joey, th' only thing crazy 'bout ya is th' fact that ya like curlin'. Me? I can be "Funky like a Monkey" too. TD: And how can we forget the Heavyweight Champion of the world, Steve "The Fury" Kowalski? [Lebec grins] SL: Fact is, we can't. I re'memer ol' Steve from way back. [Lebec takes out another smoke and lights it] An ol' buddy o' mine... called himself "Jersey" Jack Hoban... he told me 'bout ol' Fury way back when we first started out. Ol' Jack says ta me one day," Ya gotta come see this guy Kowalski rassle. Th' kid's got moves." So, we went on down ta th' arena, an' sure enough, th' boy had some junk in his trunk. An' then, long 'fore anyone ever heard o' Fury, I knew he'd be a star. [Lebec drags his smoke.] Pity 'bout "Jersey" Jack, though. Got syphilis off some turn-pike whore an' went mad. Ended up cuttin' off his balls wit a pair o' garden shears. [Lebec grins] Yeah, ol' Kowalski could be in th' cards, but fer now, I'm gonna learn ta crawl 'fore I learn ta walk, if ya catch m' drift. Gonna crawl all over Macbeth. Gonna crawl all over the IIeW. TD: Let's talk about your conversion to Christianity, and your time at Leaky Beaver after... [Lebec glares at Dross] SL: Told ya already. I don't wanna talk 'bout that no more. But if ya insist, I'll lay it out fer ya reall simple like. Fact is, some days, I dunno who I am. Dunno if I'm a rassler, a poet, a businessman, or some guy sellin' muffins on th' street out o' a shoebox. Some days, I don't know who's starin' at me in th' mirror. Fact is, it's a darn shame o' a life ta lead. [Lebec nods] But th' fact is... I'm gettin' better Timmy. Them head doctors tell me that I'm makin' real progress. Each day I'm discoverin' things 'bout m'self that I never knew before, or things that I had fergotten. But it's a long, twistin' road, filled wit obstacles. An' beginnin' in March, I plan on overcomin' some o' them obstacles. 'Cause should there ever be a day when I ain't quite sure who I am, all I'll have ta do is look in th' record books... an' you'll see a picture o' me wearing an IIWF Intercontinental Title belt while sipping champagne from a Deschenes Cup. Yessir, March is gonna be m' month ta shine. I know it. An' th' good Lord knows it too. An' fer th' rest o' ya, you'll soon know it. TD: Back to Duncan Macbeth, a man who has drawn your attention as of late? SL: Ol' Duncan has what I want. Not that silly ol' belt o' his......but th' respect that comes wit that silly ol' belt. That's what I want, and that's what I'll get. I been in this fed since the get go, 'fore we were #1... 'fore anybody ever heard o' it. An' I look down th' roster, an' I see guys who I'm better than. An' I see that I only had one title shot since I got here, an' even that was a triangle match fer the Cruiser belt. Yessir, th' way I see it, I got me a shot comin' due ta me. I ain't never complained 'bout nothin', an' I always did what Danny boy told me ta do. An' if that's worth anythin', it's worth a shot in front o' thousands in Wembley Stadium. Ain't nothin' personal Duncan. Ya just got somethin' that I need in order ta make me whole again. In order ta make me fresh again. [Lebec smiles] I was in a bar down there in Charlotte. An' there was this guy talkin' talk 'bout the business. Some blond guy who claimed ta "style an' profile". Believe his name was "Slick Ric", or somethin' ridiculous like that. He said ta me that night,"Ta be th' man, ya gotta beat th' man!" Well, by golly, I took that ta heart. An' Duncan, right now, yer th' man. An' I wanna be th' man. VO: Is tha' a fact, tosser? [The crowd explodes with a huge pop as "Tubthumping" by Chumbawamba pounds out of the P.A. and all eyes in the stadium, including those of Dross and Lebec, turn to the wrestler's entrance to see Intercontinental Champion Duncan Macbeth, clad in his street clothes, with the gleaming Intercontinental title belt around his waist, glaring down the full length of the aisle at Lebec. The back of Macbeth's leather jacket bears the Rising Sun emblem of Japan, rather than the usual Scottish Lion, and this draws an appreciative pop from the Japanese crowd. The Scot, however, is the picture of pure contempt as he slowly and deliberately makes his way down the aisle, ignoring the cheers of the ringside fans, and never once taking his eyes off of Lebec as he reaches ringside and climbs in. Lebec meets the Scot's gaze as Macbeth squares himself off against the French-Canadian, and Lebec responds by sitting back down on the toilet and picking up the newspaper as Macbeth glowers down at Lebec. Dross looks extremely uncomfortable with this high-tension situation, but moves in to question Macbeth, who hasn't even so much as glanced in the announcer's direction as he continues to stare a hole through Lebec.] TD: Um... welcome, Duncan. This is an certainly an unexpected... DM: SHUT IT, DROSS! [Macbeth's uncharacteristic outburst towards the popular announcer serves to quiet the shocked crowd down somewhat as well, as Macbeth yanks the microphone out of Dross' hand and steps towards the seated Lebec, tearing the newspaper out of Lebec's hands and flinging it away. Macbeth's eyes boil with barely-contained rage as he stares Lebec down.] DM: I'm no' 'ere t' wash me dirty laundry in public, wha'. I'm no' 'ere t' try an' build sympathy fer meself either, wi' some cockamammie story tha' may be true, or may be just a load o' steamin' BOLLOCKS! [The Intercontinental Champion jabs a finger in the direction of Lebec, who continues to regard Macbeth from the toilet, a smug grin crossing his face.] I'm 'ere t' say TWO things t' ye, Simon Lebec. Or should I say, "Showstopper"? After all, ye can change yuir name as many times as ye like, Lebec, like a lot o' bad actors tend t' do. Ye're _still_ th' same auld tosser ye were before. [Lebec's expression darkens at this comment, and he makes the sign of the cross across his chest, but remains silent as Macbeth continues.] DM: First of all, "Showstopper", ye come back 'ere after Jaysis kens how lang, an' ye think ye're jus' goin' t' get in me face an' get tha' title shot tha' ye believe ye deserve? Well, let me tell ye somethin', while ye've been in th' loony bin, or lyin' on th' beach in th' bleedin' Caribbean, or makin' one o' yuir God-awful no-budget pay-TV pornos, I've been 'ERE. In' th' Double Eye, Double You, F'n F, tosser. Every single day. Day after day, week after week, month after bleedin' MONTH! Puttin' me body on th' line t' climb up tha' ladder t' th' top, sweatin', an' _bleedin'_, card after card, fer THIS! [Macbeth whips off the Intercontinental Title belt and holds it high over his head, letting the television lights sparkle off of the golden frontespiece. Lebec gazes at the belt with a lascivious glint in his eye, obviously craving the belt around his own waist, but a fiery glare from Macbeth snaps him out of his reverie.] DM: THIS was me reward, Lebec! THIS was what made th' long hours o' trainin', o' studyin', o' countless stitches, an' freezin's, an' hours an' hours o' physiotherapy in between cards WORTHWHILE! THIS is somethin' tha' every single wrestler in th' bleedin' WORLD would like t' get their 'ands on, but only a very select few are guid enough t' even get th' CHANCE t' compete fer it! STUFF th' tossin' Deschenes Cup -- an IIWF title is th' ONLY prize tha' matters in this sport! [The fans respond to this remark with a huge pop, and Macbeth shows no signs of slowing down.] DM: This title recognises Duncan Macbeth as one o' th' very best wrestlers in th' game, Lebec. I didn't get t' be where I am now by doin' things halfway. I worked me bleedin' ARSE off fer this title. Jus' wha' th' HELL have YE done, Lebec, tha' makes ye think YE should be th' champ? [Lebec face flashes with anger, and he rises from the toilet, but the Intercontinental Champion cuts him off before he can respond.] DM: All ye've managed t' do t' show ye deserve a shot at this title is stab me in th' back. TWICE. Let me tell ye somethin', Lebec, tha's one time more than most tossers EVER get th' chance at. An' second, ye say ye don't jus' want me title, ye want th' respect tha' comes wi' havin' me title? If ye think tha' jus' winnin' a title brings ye respect, Lebec, ye're a bigger idiot than I took ye fer! [Big pop from the crowd.] DM: Who respected Chris Quigley, when his pet monkey-boy Manning was knockin' out 'is opponents fer 'im? Who respected Laird Byron, when 'e had Otto Verhoeven cripplin' th' number-one contenders t' 'is title? Who respected Casey James, when 'e had Tiger Claw an' Brody Thunder wipin' out 'is competition? Th' fact o' th' matter is, Lebec, is tha' th' title doesn't bring respect t' th' wrestler. "Tis th' _wrestler_ who brings respect t' th' _title_. An' righ' now, th' IIWF Intercontinental belt is one o' th' most respected titles in th' bleedin' WORLD. 'Cause I'M wearin' it. [Pop from the crowd as Macbeth fearlessly leans in towards Lebec, until he is nose to nose with the Québecois, and jabs his finger into Lebec's chest, spitting his words out through clenched teeth.] An' there's no way in HELL tha' a backstabbin' wee punk like YE is EVER goin' t' take it away from me! [The crowd pops wildly as Macbeth drops the microphone, the loud THUNK! resounding throughout the arena as the champ turns his back on Lebec and begins to make his way towards the ropes. Lebec quickly grabs Macbeth's shoulder, and spins him around, giving him a "we're not done yet" type of look] SL: I bled yer blood, an' I sweat yer sweat. Fact o' th' matter is, I been done sweatin' an' bleedin' 'fore yer momma was still dressin' ya... literally. Ya say that nobody respected Quigs, or Tiger, or Byron? Well (Lebec looks around), far as I can see, I ain't see nobody but th' good Lord in m' corner. That ain't what we can say 'bout you, an' lil' Tiny Tim thinkin' he's somethin' he's not 'cause he rides shotgun ta th' champ. An' I knocked him down on Wednesday, just like everyone else I plan on runnin' over ta get ta ya. Ya ask me what I've done that deserves a shot at that there title? [Lebec pauses, looking straight in Macbeth's eyes.] I asked ya fer one. [Macbeth starts in genuine surprise, as if that statement was the absolute last thing he would ever expect to hear come out of the mouth of Simon Lebec. The Scot's surprise slowly gives way to frustration and anger , his eyes narrowing into jade slits, and he hisses at Lebec in a voice threatening to boil over with fury.] DM: Ye malignant wee bollix... ye think tha' pourin' vinegar in me eyes, an' tryin' t' crack me head open wi' a table leg, is how ye ASK fer a title shot? Ye think tha' blindsidin' me in a television studio -- no' in th' ring, th' arena, th' locker room, or even th' parkin' lot, mind -- while I'm givin' up me precious time t' promote th' league tha's puttin' bread on me table, is how ye're goin' t' climb th' ladder t' success an' respect? Tha's wha' passes fer ASKIN' in tha' scrambled squash o' yuirs? [Lebec just shrugs, smirking at the Intercontinental Champion, who is absolutely seething.] DM: Well... fine. Fine. [Now it is Lebec's turn to look surprised, as Macbeth's concession momentarily confuses him.] DM: If tha's th' way ye ASK fer a shot... I reckon I ken how t' ANSWER ye! [The crowd pops wildly as Macbeth suddenly delivers a scything roundhouse right out of nowhere that catches Lebec flush on the jaw! Lebec drops to the canvas, clutching at his chin in surprise and pain, and Macbeth looms over him, hands balled into tight fists, looking poised to deliver another strike to the downed French-Canadian. The Scot, however, just reaches down to the mat and picks up the abandoned ring mic, fixing Lebec with a corrosive green stare as he struggles to pick himself up.] DM: I think we're speakin' th' same language now, wouldn't ye say, Lebec? But if ye're still... fuzzy on th' meanin', maybe ye should ask th' Guid Lord fer his guidance. 'Cause righ' now, Lebec, th' path ye're on leads straight t' HELL. An' when ye get there, _I'm_ goin' t' be th' one stokin' th' furnace, tosser! [Macbeth proceeds to hand the mic off to a slightly rattled Tim Dross, muttering "bleedin' waste o' time" under his breath, and apologetically pats the announcer on the shoulder before he steps through the ropes and makes his way up the aisle to a rousing pop from the fans. Lebec pulls himself up to his feet and watches the champion exit, then grabs the mic] SL: Speakin' th' same language? Yeah... [Lebec, stroking his jaw, lets out a wicked grin] ...we def'nitly are. [Lebec grins as he exits, knowing that he's got the Scotsman where he wants him. Dross waits until Lebec has passed through the curtain before he hands the mic off to Sparkplug Lee at ringside, and climbs through the ropes to rejoin Steve Roberts at the broadcast table.] TD: Well, a confrontation between Simon Lebec and Duncan Macbeth for the Intercontinental Championship seems inevitable, Steve Roberts. Will that be one of the matches for that big, big pay-per-view announced right here next week by the IIWF President? SR: Dross, have I told you yet that it's great to be here in Japan? You know, you can go to a vending machine on the street and buy a pair of used panties? TD: Let's hurry back to the ring and Sparkplug Lee! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| Steve Manning vs. Deathbringer |_||_| \_/\_/ |_|.................................................... WRITER: Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen [Sparkplug Lee once again hits the ring and bows to the fans, clutching the microphone.] SL: This next bout is scheduled for one fall! [We hear "The Frayed Ends of Sanity" over the P.A. system as "Sanguinary Steve Manning" saunters down the aisle, carrying a shovel over his shoulder and wearing a T-shirt that reads "10,000 Volts Could Wake the Dead". In Manning's other hand: the shock stick.] SL: Coming down the aisle, from Phoenix, Arizona, weighing in at 230lbs... "Sanguinary" StEEEEEEEve MANNing!!! [Manning faces the camera, pounds his chest with bravado, and says "I'm gonna bury Deathbringer for good!"] TD: Looks like Manning's next in line to try and bury the dead man, Steve Roberts. SR: I tell ya, Dross, this "Sanitary" Steve Manning guy is one fudged-up cracker. TD: That's "Sanguinary", Soundbite. SR: Whatever. Anyway, the guy's nuts. Somebody must have blown out his pilot light. But today could be his best chance to beat Ol' Rigor Mortis and make a name for himself here in the Mighty Double Eye. [The crowd remains largely quiet as the relatively unknown Manning enters the ring. A few boos can be heard from the upper reaches of the arena; otherwise, Manning receives a polite smattering of applause. Bemused, Manning does the Hulk Hogan cup-the-hand-to-the-ear schtick, drawing some mild laughter.] SL: And his opponent... [The lights go down in Nagano as Dark Tranquility's "Scythe, Rage and Rose" begins to play, which brings a collective "Oh!" of familiarity form the Japanese crowd, and an enthusiastic round of applause.] SL: From "The Dark Side", and weighing 324lbs... DEATHBRINGERRRR!!!! [Big pop as a lone spotlight descends on the figure, shrouded in a hood and cowl, making his way to the ring.] TD: Hang on... where's his manager, Blind Guardian? SR: Maybe he went mad trying to read a stuccoed wall. TD: That's truly tasteless, Soundbite. SR: Shank you very much. [Suddenly, a dull "CLANG" resonates throughout the arena as Manning's shovel strikes the back of Deathbringer.] TD: Look at that! Manning snuck up behind Deathbringer while the lights were down and just nailed him from behind with that shovel! SR: I guess "Sandinista" Steve Manning has taken up landscaping as a hobby, Dross. TD: That's "Sanguinary", Soundbite. SR: Whatever. [The lights come up to reveal Steve Manning taking the offensive against the stunned Deathbringer, connecting with a furious array of punches and kicks, then grabbing the dead man by the head and pulling him down the aisle, then tossing him into the ring steps with another dull CLANG. The ref calls for the bell to ring to start the match as Manning rolls his heavier opponent under the bottom ring rope, then climbs the turnbuckle and delivers a fistdrop onto Deathbringer's forehead.] SR: Hit first, hit hardest, and win. That's what it's all about, Dross -- the winner's purse. TD: What about the thrill of victory? SR: "Thrill of victory"? Screw that, Dross, it's about the money. "Cos first you get the money... then you get the power... then you get the women. [The Soundbite closes his eyes and smiles, slipping into a Chef-like trance.] TD: Wake up, Steve. There's a match going on here. SR: DAMMIT, Dross, I was just on a beach with Vanity, Appolonia AND Sheila E. TD: Sorry. SR: Cripes... where's the "IIWF Saturday Night" Girls when you need them? I told Spreads to set it up _pronto_. [Meanwhile, back in the ring, Manning has been dealing damage to the man from the dark side, mostly in the form of punches and kicks. The crowd does not respond much either way, seemingly waiting for something to happen. Suddenly, an oversized box appears at the top of the rampway, and is carted to ringside by two people dressed as druids.] SR: Finally... someone brought The Smooth his lunch. I hope they remembered the extra hot banana pepper pickles on his Monte Cristo burger. TD: Somehow, I doubt that this is for The Smooth. [The druids deliver the box to ringside. As the camera angle changes, we see a handle affixed to one side of the box. One of the druids begins to turn the handle to the tune of "Pop Goes the Weasel", and we realise that this is a giant jack-in-the-box.] SR: See, Dross? Jack-in-the-Box. It _is_ Smooth's lunch. [Instead of fast food, though, out pops someone dressed in a clown costume.] SR: Druids and shock sticks and clowns! Oh my! We must have travelled back in time to 1991, Dross-man. What's next? An Argentinian ex-basketball player in an ape-suit? TD: Steve, I'll bet that's the same clown that tossed confetti all over the Harlequins last week. [An astute observation, as the clown climbs out of the box, waves at the people in the front row, then reaches back inside the box and picks up a water bucket. Manning becomes totally distracted by the commotion at ringside, as the clown climbs the apron and starts waving in Manning's direction. As Manning cautiously approaches the clown, Deathbringer does the "sit up quick" spot and rises from the mat, stalking Manning from behind.] SR: That had better be confetti in the bucket, or "Sanctify Me" Steve Manning's going to put an awful hurt on that clown. TD: That's... oh, forget it. [Manning gets a little closer to the clown, who raises his bucket in the air... but Manning falls to the mat, and the contents of the bucket hit the Deathbringer square in the face, drenching his hood] TD: Uh-oh, that's not confetti, Roberts. SR: Hell, it looks like blood! That's one sick clown, Dross! I think I like him. [The clown giggles and points at Deathbringer, then hightails it off the apron as the red-stained dead man chases after him, stepping over the top rope and stalking him down the aisle.] TD: The referee is putting the count on... looks like Manning might get the winner's money after all. SR: Yes! Then he'll get the power... then he'll get the women... [As Roberts returns in his mind's eye to the beach, the referee's count hits five... six... seven... eight... Deathbringer realises he's being counted out and makes it back into the ring just before the ten count.] TD: Deathbringer seems to have been woken up by that incident... he and Manning are going toe-to-toe! [The two exchange blows in the middle of the ring, Manning getting the worst of it, but fighting back nonetheless and smiling the whole time. The crowd gets louder and louder as the two combatants continue to pound one another. Deathbringer lands a punch, but Manning goes to the back of his tights, pulls out a tongue depressor, and drives it into Deathbringer's throat.] TD: Did you see that, Soundbite? [Steve Roberts still has his eyes closed, and seems to be singing to himself an old Isaac Hayes ballad. Tim Dross leans over to the Soundbite's ear and shouts...] TD: POLICE! SR: [startled, but not yet lucid] What? Who? Hey, I swear I didn't know she was thirteen, offic... oh, it's you. TD: Manning hit Deathbringer with the foreign object, but he can't keep the dead man down! [Manning goes back into his tights for a pair of brass knuckles, and clocks Deathbringer in the jaw. Still, he cannot knock him down... so he reaches back into his tights and pulls out...] TD: A hockey puck?! Manning's got a _puck_?! SR: What else is Manning willing to yank out of his pants to stop this man? [Manning nails Deathbringer in the head with the puck. Deathbringer totally no-sells it, instead reaching up to his head to remove his cowl, revealing an old-style hockey goaltender's mask, still soaked with red liquid. The crowd pops insanely, while manning back off, frighten momentarily by the hideous sight in front of him.] TD: Deathbringer's face is a crimson mask! [pause] SR: I'm going to pretend you didn't say that, Dross-man. TD: Deathbringer was wearing that goalie mask the whole time... no wonder that puck had no effect! SR: Hey, he took one off the mask, just like Gerry Cheevers! Ah, the good old days... [Manning quickly regains his senses and gives Deathbringer a swift kick to the groin. The crowd winces audibly.] SR: [wincing] Geez, I hope he's wearing a cup, too. TD: [also wincing] Deathbringer will have to show some... well, testicular fortitude if he's going to be able to recover. SR: Dammit, Dross, that's my line. [Manning, almost thoroughly exhausted from the abuse he's been taking, staggers over to Deathbringer, who is lying in the fetal position in the corner of the ring. He picks Deathbringer off the mat and tries for an Irish whip into the far turnbuckle... but Deathbringer reverses... then Manning reverses again and whips his opponent straight into... the referee.] SR: REF BUMP! TD: The referee is down! I think Manning did that intentionally, but I can't say for sure... uh-oh, now what's going on? [Manning stumbles across the ring, then rolls under the bottom rope and, with an evil grin, retrieves his shock stick and rolls back into the ring.] TD: NO! Manning with the shock stick, and no-one to intervene! SR: [singing] He's not Da Mountie... he's twisted, he's mad, he's sick! [Manning takes the shock stick and puts the handle down the front of his tights, so that the shocking end is sticking up in front of his abdominals. He picks up Deathbringer, and applies a bearhug, which presses each of their bodies up against the shock stick and sends untold amounts of current through both men. The sizzling sound becomes absolutely sickening as the two bodies twitch in the centre of the ring, with Manning laughing insanely in the face of Deathbringer.] SR: Ya know, Dross, I really didn't need to see this. [Manning, still cackling, finally releases the hold and stumbles backward into a corner, while the limp body of Deathbringer slumps to the canvas and twitches. A second referee runs down the aisle, enters the ring, and calls for the bell.] SL: Your winner, by disqualification... DEATHBRINGERRRrrrrr!!! [An eerie silence permeates the arena as Sparkplug's words echo and fade away, then people start to mumble their disapproval to one another. Suddenly, Deathbringer does the sit-up-quick spot, and the crowd pops. Manning, in turn, slides out of the ring, grabs his shovel, slides back in, and whacks Deathbringer across the back again. Deathbringer slumps over again, and Manning raises his shovel in the air in triumph... but Deathbringer manages to sit up again. Manning ducks out under the bottom rope, picks up a pack of cigarettes from the timekeeper's table, and lights one up. He puffs the smoke in the air, then hops over the railing and into the crowd, waving his shock stick wildly and sending fans scattering as he heads out an exit. Deathbringer, meanwhile, picks himself up and slowly limps up the rampway to a big pop.] SR: Great. Manning brings his toy into the ring, embraces Deathbringer, and then lights up a smoke after. Somebody find this guy a tag team partner! TD: [staring at the table and shaking his head] Oh, _man_, are the TV execs are going to give us hell after the show... [Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: Let's get straight back up to the ring for our next match -- and this is one that's been brewing for a while, folks... since Snow Brawl, in fact, when "The Intrepid" Ryan Howard returned to the IIWF to seek revenge on Timothy N. Turner and Duncan Macbeth for putting him on the shelf back in September. Tonight, Howard and Turner meet in the ring one on one -- it should be a great match! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| "Rocket Man" Timothy N. Turner vs. |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| "The Intrepid" Ryan Howard ....................................................................... WRITER: Mike Sonby [Sparkplug heads into the ring, microphone in hand...] SL: This match is one fall, with a thirty minute time limit. Introducing first, from Vancouver, British Columbia, weighing 230 pounds, here is TIMOTHY N. TURNER! [The lights go down, and "Rocket Man" by Elton John starts up. The Japanese crowd begins to cheer as an engine is heard throughout the arena, and a single spotlight shines above the crowd. There, to the delight of the audience, Turner flies by in his je tpack. He buzzes around the stadium before finally finishing with a soft landing in the middle of the ring, next to a shocked Sparkplug.] SL: Wow... and his opponent, weighing in at 255 pounds, from Detroit, Michigan. Here is "THE INTREPID" RYAN HOWARD! ["Don't Tread On Me" begins, and Howard walks out with a determined look on his face. He walks up about halfway up the aisle before turning around, and waving someone into the arena. The curtains part, and a large figure walks out to join Howard.] TD: It's the Masked Terror! Ryan Howard has brought out the Masked Terror too watch his back during the match. SR: Makes sense. Howard still remembers Turner, Duncan Macbeth, and an iron bar. I'd bring backup. TD: Duncan Macbeth isn't at ringside, but... [The camera pans over to the front row of the audience, where Akiro Saito and "Constable" Tom Turner are sitting and encouraging cheers for Tim Turner.] TD: ...his fellow members of the NorthPac Coalition are. [The Masked Terror stays at ringside, while Howard rolls into the ring, and the referee calls for the bell. Turner is still in the middle of unlocking his jetpack when Howard jumps him from behind, nailing him with a forearm to the back of his head. Howard follows it up by ramming Turner's head into the turnbuckle several times before the referee manages to intercede and separate Howard and Tuner. Turner finally removes the jetpack, and Howard pounces again. But Turner sidesteps Howard, then nails him with a kick to the stomach, before hitting gutwrench suplex on Howard. He applies an armbar, but Howard rakes Turner's eyes, then hits Turner with a vertical suplex.] TD: A lot of early action by both men. SR: Well, gee, if someone broke my arm I'd probably want to get on their case also. I don't know what happened to Turner. He's turned into such a weenie that it's depressing. [Howard continues his assault by whipping Turner into the turnbuckles, then hitting the former Cruiserweight Champion with a series of chops, leaving welts on his chest. He whips him to the opposite turnbuckle, but Turner reversed the whip, then charges and climb on top of Howard. He starts delivering a series of punches, but only gets to five before Howard carries him to the middle of the ring and plants him with an inverted atomic drop, then clothesline him. Howard starts choking Turner right in front of the referee, only letting go at the four count. Howard jumps up, bounces off the ropes, and lands on kneedrop on the mat, missing Turner. Turner rolls over, stands up, and grapevines the leg. He falls back to stretch out the leg, then twists the ankle and applies a step-over toehold.] TD: Turner using his mat skills to slow down the match. SR: And he's working on the legs. Smart move. I always say that a lame opponent is an easy target. [Turner drops an elbow on Howard's knee, then spins him around... Howard uses his other leg to kick Turner off of Howard. Turner bounces off the ropes and Howard nails him with a punch to the stomach, then hitting Turner with a butterfly suplex. He nods to the Masked Terror, who hops up on the apron. As the referee starts arguing with the JJS member, Howard starts choking out Turner, and the referee is too busy with the Masked Terror to stop him. The crowd starts booing loudly.] SR: Great teamwork by Howard and the Masked Terror. TD: I thought you didn't like teamwork. SR: Only in tag team matches. TD: Well, the NorthPac Coalition is very popular in Japan, and they do not like this blatant cheating by Howard. [The Masked Terror finally hops down from the apron, and the referee turns around to see Howard cover Turner. Howard gets a two count before turner kicks out, and Howard straddles Turner and lays in a series of fists to the face, ignoring the referee's warnings. Turner uses his leg to grab Howard's arms and rolls him up in a sunset flip-like rollup for a two count, but Howard rolls over, then charges and nails a sitting Turner with a clothesline. Howard picks Turner up and powerslams him, then covers for another two count. Howard measures Turner and drops a leg across his throat, then covers for a third two count.] TD: Ryan Howard controlling the match, but unable to put Turner away. SR: The old TNT would have had Duncan or one of his NorthPac friends take out the Masked Terror, but the wimpy Turner just takes it. He's just lost it. [Ryan whips Tuner into the corner, charges in after him, and nails him with a high kneelift. As Turner bounces off of the turnbuckles, Howard sets him up for a DDT, but Turner reverses it into a Northern Lights Suplex. Turner stands up only to drop an elbow onto Howard, then grabs Howard's leg and turns over into a half Crab. Howard reaches the ropes, and the referee forces a break, but Turner hops up to the turnbuckle to drop an elbow onto Howard's knee. He picks up Howard's leg and jumps up to the second turnbuckle, then somersaults off the turnbuckle, wrenching Howard's knee and causing him to do a 360 degree flip. The Japanese crowd applaud the move.] TD: Great move by Turner! And Howard's holding his knee. That could have damaged some ligaments. SR: not to mention that it hurts like a moth[BLEEP]. [he pauses] Still on tape delay? {Dross nods.] Damn. [Turner grabs Howard's leg and spins around for a figure-four leglock. Howard reaches up and rolls him over for a small package, but Turner kicks out at two. Turner bounces off the ropes and splashes himself onto Howard, then kicks Howard in the head twice. He grabs the leg, and spins around into a figure-four leglock...] TD: He locks it... and has it! Howard's in the middle of the ring, with nowhere to go. SR: And the Masked Terror can't help him. He's on the other side from Howard. [Howard's shoulders are on the mat, but a two count from the referee brings them up. The Masked Terror starts to walk across to the other side, but sees the NorthPac Coalition watching him from the opposite side of the ring. So the Masked Terror hops up on the ring apron again. Not only does the referee order him down, "Constable" Tom Turner steps over the guard railing to help out the referee. The Masked Terror hops downs quickly and points to Tom Turner. As the referee heads to the opposite side of the ring to order the Constable back to his seat, the Masked Terror ducks under the ropes, grabs TNT's arms, and drags him under the ropes. The referee turns around, spots TNT under the ropes, and orders the break.] SR: That was a brilliant move! This Masked Terror is going places. He might even replace Smooth as leader of the JJS. TD: Smooth is the leader of the JJS. SR: Damn straight. No Justice like Jobber Justice, baby! [TNT releases the hold, then ducks out of the ring to have words with the Masked Terror. The Terror walks around the ring to avoid Turner, who takes a few steps towards him, not noticing Howard getting to his feet and limping up to the top turnbuckle. Terror takes a few more steps away from Turner. With a disgusted look on his face, TNT turns around to the ring... and is nailed by a plancha from Howard onto the cement floor!] TD: A nice move by a man who is not known for his aerial tactics. Howard just crashed onto Turner. [Howard slams Turner onto the floor, then ducks back into the ring. in the ring, Howard tests his leg and starts arguing with the referee, allowing the Masked Terror to set up TNT with his body half over the steel guardrail. Once set up, Howard bounces off the ropes, leaps through, and splashes himself onto Turner. Turner collapses to the floor, and Howard arrogantly throws Turner into the ring. He makes a casual cover of 1...2... kickout!] TD: Turner with a kickout. Tom Turner and Akiro Saito are ready to attack the Masked Terror, but security refuses to let them leave their seats. Japan takes a much stricter approach to attacks from the fans, even if they are wrestlers themselves. [Howard nails Turner with a chop, then whips him to the ropes. On the rebound, Howard ducks down for a backdrop, but Turner hops over Howard. As Howard stands up, Turner nails him with a dropkick to the back of the head, sending Howard sprawling to the mat. Turner covers for a count of 1...2... kickout. Turner bounces off the ropes again...] TD: And the Masked Terror grabs TNT's leg! [TNT stumbles off the ropes, trying to keep his balance. But his head is ducked down, and Howard grabs him in a front facelock, lifts him up, and plants Turner with the 12-Gauge brainbuster. He covers for a count of 1...2...3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: Ryan Howard with the win! SR: ...and the assist goes to the Masked Terror. TD: The Masked Terror certainly played an important part of the match, as he helped Ryan Howard throughout the match. [The number of security guards have grown to stop the NorthPac Coalition from jumping their seats into the ring. The Masked Terror rolls into the ring, looks at TNT, and unmasks. Turner stands up, and looks into a familiar face...] TD: It's... it's ANDREW MACBETH! The masked terror is Andrew Macbeth! Macbeth, the elder cousin of Duncan Macbeth... but why did he help Turner lose? SR: Turner and Duncan are companions. Maybe Andy's jealous. [The massive Macbeth stares into Turner, then clotheslines him, sending him to the mat. Howard stands over Turner and laughs at him... only to be caught by surprise by the roundhouse right from Macbeth. Andrew Macbeth leaves the ring to a tremendous round of boos from the crowd.] TD: Andrew Macbeth helps Ryan Howard beat Timothy Turner, a man who he teamed with along with Duncan Macbeth. Then, after the match, Andrew attacks Ryan Howard. SR: [in a terrible Scottish accent] Who knows with these Scottish lads. They're tough as hell, but a wee shy in the noggin', if you know what I mean. TD: I never know what you mean, Steve. Howard leaves the ring with the win, while TNT is outside the ring, talking with his brother Tom and Akiro Saito about what happened. I'm sure we haven't heard the last of this between Andrew Macbeth and TNT. Right now, folks, it's time to get some comments from Marty Warnett. If you'll excuse me, Steve Roberts. SR: Take your time, Dross. I's needing a nap anyway. [Tim Dross leaves the broadcast position, and grabs a microphone from a nearby table as he makes his way into the ring. He receives a polite round of applause from the fans as the spotlights centre in on him, and he raises the microphone to his mouth:] TD: Ladies and gentleman, my guest at this time, the "Party Maniac", Marty Warnett! [The crowd noise gets louder as "Just Like Paradise" starts. From behind the curtain, Marty pops his head around, grinning heartily. He steps through the entrance, pausing only to put on a battered pair of Quickstrike shades. He's dressed in trademark ripped jeans, trainers, and a leather jacket over a white T-shirt, the text of which cannot be seen yet. He slowly meanders down the aisle, pausing to slap hands with each and every fan, eventually stopping to give the shades to a young wheelchair bound boy. He hops onto the ring apron, turning and milking the pop. Marty steps between the ropes, and walks up to Dross.] TD: Marty... it's been a big couple of weeks. MW: Hell, yes, Dross, travelling here, there, every damn where and just putting a smile on many a person's face... TD: So Becky says. MW: I have my own little personal message for sassy lil' Becks. Now, whilst I was flattered to be appreciated by Mr. Bacon on Wednesday, he sure as hell does nothing for my rasher... Becks, you are the true original round the IIWF, and whilst I may not have done much for you in the past, tonight, I'll bring the chocolate sauce if you bring your sweet ass... TD: Ahem. MW: Sorry, Tim, you ain't invited. TD: A big win over Battalion, feud with Rick Williams, things are looking up for you. Interest from Ms. Miki, too. MW: Well, things will be up tonight, if Becks turns up. Okay, let's talk things IIWF. Battalion, a big silent man. I guess he'll probably be on the outs soon. I harassed Highwayman outta here without fighting him, Battalion, hell, call me the anti-bad gimmick, the master kayfaber. Again, as so many people get rudely awakened, there's a big, big difference between talking big and acting big. Acting big is working your butt off for the fed, putting butts on seats, and putting a smile on people's faces. I have endured over the past year; others would've whined about being screwed, stormed off in a huff to some Bush league whose acronym would be a killer at Scrabble. Not the Party Maniac, no sirree. Open me up, and you'll see the heart of the IIWF. [With this, Marty removes his jacket. On the front is printed the slogan "True IIWF Icon". On the back is "Worked you, Joe".] MW: Where was I? Oh yeah... the interest from Ms. Miki is... very interesting. Maybe I need people watching my back, although that's not something I'm actively looking for. She is a beautiful woman, so I guess it's only natural she'd be interested in me... and I guess I am pretty fabulous, too. So I get told... but anyway, the Fabs are building a stable, they could even be the real New Horsemen. TD: And you're in the middle of a hot feud, too. [Marty pulls another set of shades from an inside pocket, putting them on. He then peers over the top of the rims.] MW: Hot? Hell, I could pour gasoline on Annis, say Hi to Mr. Zippo and it couldn't get any hotter than it's gonna get for Mr. Abscess. Rick, you come in, yadda, yadda, yadda, you'll do this, you'll do that. Wow. Join Stetson, the Universal Powers, Reed, Quigley in the queue to join the "Talk is Cheap" Jobber squad. So far... let's just say I'm not impressed. Twice now I've played games with you... to no response. What's the matter, Rick? Realised that your natural place is lying back down on the mat? Twice now I've embarassed you? C'mon man, make it interesting for Gawd's sake. Rick, you blinded a good man. Cheap heat, Rick. How many over so-called wrestlers have entered the IIWF, performed a stunt like this then left in a hurry? Again, Universal Power, Rick, that's all you are. You hurt a friend of mine. Badly. And right now, he may never get in that squared circle ever again. The one thing in life you can be sure of, Rick, apart from Mooselips, is that if you take out a friend of mine, I take you out. I want to rip your leg from your leg... socket, so I can beat you to a pulp with it. Spreadbury, this past year the Party Maniac has killed time. Done what the suits wanted, and what the fans needed. I feel naked without that IC belt, and if I have to wait for shots, well, I've waited for a year already. If I have to win Snow Brawl and book myself title shots, then so be it. But what do I want, right now? Rick Williams. Spreadbury, sign that contract, hell, I'll forge Rick's signature since he's too yellow. Show some spine, and as Becks will tell you, there's plenty of beef on my bone -- just feel those tiny holes developing in your brain. [Dross and the crowd fall silent, Marty's remarks about Mad Cow disease and the British Government's reaction going way over the head of the non-British crowd and staff.] TD: Yes, well... strong stuff there. [Marty flexes his bicep to a crowd pop.] MW: Nah. Here's strong stuff. Rick, if I have to interfere in every single bout of yours, then so be it. On second thoughts... I have a far, far better idea. See you in the movies, pal -- I'll call you Titanic, because you're going down! [With that soundbite, Marty leaves the ring to a loud pop, "Just Like Paradise" blaring out over the PA.] SR: [over the headset] Stay where you are, morons -- I'll be back along with my little buddy Dross in a few moments for sixty more minutes of the ol' Poppa Soundbite magic. [Cut to a wide-angle shot of the figure skating stadium as Warnett makes his way back up the aisle, slapping hands with the fans as he goes.] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+