________ ______ __ ____ ___ __ . _ ___ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| / /\ | | || \| \ /\ \ / |\ || / \| | | | || | \ v v / | __| \__ /__\ | | ||__/| |/__\ v | \||| __|-| | |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| \ \| v | \|__/ \| | || \_|| | | __________________________/...hour two...\........|...|.......|....| LIVE! Nagano, Japan 28 February 1998 [The graphics fade through to interior shots of the jam-packed Olympic stadium in Nagano, Japan, the sea of fans cheering and waving their signs as a volley of fireworks erupts in the rafters high above the ring. The shot eventually cuts to Larry Morton, standing in the middle of the ring with a microphone. The crowd begins to buzz with anticipation as to what is about to take place...] LM: Ladies and gentlemen...Geisha girls and Samurai...heh heh, little joke there... [The reserved Japanese fans offer Morton no response, and he shuffles nervously...] LM: Ahem...My guest at this time had the most successful first tour of Japan of any American star since the Cleveland Scorpion's legendary undefeated tour in 1983... [Good crowd pop at the mention of the Hall of Famer. Morton smiles a little, feeling more comfortable...] LM: Let's take a look at some highlights, shall we? [Morton motions towards the giant video wall, which begins showing various highlights of Ike Sampson's recent tour of Japan: Slugging it out with Akira Hashimoto...Powerslamming Mitsuhara Konaga...Clotheslining El Dorado...Deep Freezing Hiro Nogami...The crowd pops big-time for this video.] LM: All right, here he is...making his return to Japan... ["Kiss" by Prince cranks up, and the crowd goes nuts.] LM: The poster boy for the Wrestle Clean campaign...The Big Dog... IKE SAMPSON!!! [The crowd crescendos even higher, if that's possible, as Ike comes out from the locker room. He is wearing blue jeans with a nice flannel shirt, along with a baseball hat from the Nippon Ham Fighters. He pauses at the top of the aisle, turning around, completely absorbing the adoration of his international fans. Satisfied, he comes down the aisle with a big grin on his face. He climbs into the ring, slapping Morton on the back so hard he nearly knocks him over.] LM: Tremendous ovation for the--WHOA!! [The crowd explodes again, as Ike picks up Morton, and playfully press-slams him over his head a few times, before setting him down gently back on the mat. Morton takes a moment, brushing out his suit while regaining his composure.] LM: Well...that was...fun. OK, on to the matter at hand. You had requested some time to come out here this week and get a few things off your chest. IKE: That's right. First of all...it's great to be back in the Land of the Rising Sun!!! [Big crowd pop. A small "WE LIKE IKE!" chant from the upper deck starts, and quickly grows to engulf the entire arena. Ike pauses a moment to allow the chant to die down before continuing.] IKE: You know, when Mr. Osterhout came to me with this "Wrestle Clean" idea, the first thing I thought of was you people: This is the way you like your wrestling over here, so it's got to be all right with me!!! LM: Well, the campaign to clean up the IIWF is not going so well. Just last week in Puerto Rico, there were several incidents of... well, I hate to use the term _extreme_, but it was _extremely_ violent! IKE: And that's why I got involved. Men like Serge Annis, Luke Steele -- I had to stop 'em!! It's a real shame what this sport has become -- no longer a great sport pitting two men against each other. Now it's become two men, a steel chair, a table, and a fireball. That's not what this sport is about. And as long as people like Annis continue to make a mockery of my sport... [Ike points to the crowd.] IKE: ..._Your_ sport... [Big pop.] IKE: I will continue to be there, to make sure that doesn't happen. And that's the truth... [Big pop.] LM: Well, I'm sure you heard the comments from "Enigma" Takezo Musashi last week, as well... [Mixed reaction for the mention of the native son, some happy to see him find success in America, others appalled at his new-found lack of respect for the rules and tradition of the sport.] LM: ...after his barbaric assault on the legendary Magnificent Carlitos! [Big pop for the Hall of Famer, nearly as popular in Japan as he is in his home country, thanks to his legendary feud with the hated Hiroshi "The Butcher" Takanami in the early '80s.] IKE: You know, when I was a kid, the only place I ever saw Carlitos was in the wrestling magazines I would pick up at the grocery store. And then, when I was 14, I was lucky enough to be in the fifth row when he had that famous match in Minneapolis with Bruno the Sandman at March Madness. And then, last week, when I got to shake his hand before the show, it was like a dream come true. I couldn't have been any happier than if I had met Chocolate Thunder himself! [Big pop for the legendary manager of the independent supercard days.] IKE: And then I sat there and watched as that -- that _evil_bastard_ Musashi destroyed a wrestling legend. I tried to get out there and help, but I couldn't fight my way through that crowd. They were going crazy!! And for what?!? Why did this loon attack an innocent old man?! All in the name of being _hardcore_. And then he draws a line in the sand, so to speak... [Ike reaches in the pocket of his pants, producing a can of spray paint, with which he then paints a red line on the center of the ring.] IKE: You're choosing up sides, huh, Musashi, rounding up the "hardcores"?! Well, I'll round up the other side. [Ike slowly and dramatically steps over the line, producing a rousing pop from the crowd.] IKE: I've crossed your line. And let me tell you, buddy -- they don't come no harder than me!!! I don't need _any_ weapons -- I'll beat the everlasting hell out of you with my BARE HANDS!!! [Big pop.] LM: Well, the Enigma will be here, later tonight, as he takes on Duncan Macbeth in a non-title match-up. IKE: And that's the other thing I wanted to talk about. Ever since MacBean won that belt, he's been going on and on about being a fighting champion. So, Larry, when's the last time he defended that belt?! LM: Uhm... IKE: That's right, you can't remember. And I can't, either. Seems our Intercontinental Champion is too busy trying to be a tag-team wrestler with that fairy TNT. C'mon, MacBean, where you hiding that belt, up your _skirt_?!? [Big pop.] IKE: It's about time he defends that title, and who better to take it from him than ME!!! He's been ducking me for weeks now, saying that the Future Bowl was a fluke. If you're such a man, MacBean, if you're such a fighting champion, then all I'm asking for is a chance to prove it wasn't. Put your name on the dotted line, wee laddie [in a terrible Scottish brogue]. Let's give the fans out there a champion they can be proud of. [Big pop, and "Kiss" starts up again. Ike hops out of the ring, circling the entire ringside area for some high fives before heading to the foot of the aisle, where he pumps his fists to the air for one last time before turning to head backstage... But suddenly and almost unperceptably, a shadowy figure has slipped from beneath the ring and up behind Sampson, attired in plain black loose fitting pants, with his face blackened up like an SAS trooper, trailing in his hands a good length of cable gathered up from the arena floor. The fans pop in shock as the cable is quickly looped around Sampson's throat and yanked backwards furiously, causing him to gag and splutter. The shocked pop quickly turns to jeers as the man is suddenly recognised beneath his blackened face paint, a national hero of the Japanese people now turned sour... it is the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi, and he has struck once again. Ike Sampson gags violently, struggling to draw in air as his hands scrabble at the cord wound tightly around his neck. Musashi is too nimble to be thrown off, however, and relentlessly chokes away at Sampson's thickly muscled neck.] TD: Oh my goodness! It's started to become a staple of IIWF cards of late, and you start to wonder over the course of the night, it's only a matter of time before the Enigma commits another atrocity! Musashi is choking the life right out of Ike Sampson before our eyes, and once again, we have a crisis situation on our hands! SR: You can almost see the steroid resaidue seeping through the pores of Sampson's neck while the Enigma puts on the squeeze. I'm gonna go bottle me some of that and sell it to Moxy Blue right after the card. The little twig could sure use it. TD: I don't think you recognise the gravity of this situation, Steve Roberts! [Musashi keeps up the squeeze, cries of horror emanating from the fans as Ike Sampson's struggles begin to slacken off, and his face turns slightly blue. Abruptly, Musashi changes tactics, and loosening up the pressure a little, uses the slack on the cord to bodily whip Sampson's forehead across the steel crowd barriers! There is a resounding smash as Sampson is knocked for a loop, but Musashi is quickly back upon him, gathering up the cord and using it to tie Sampson up against the railing! Sampson, in his choked out, groggy state, offers little resistance as his arms are fastened in place. Satisfied that the Big Dog is sufficiently immobile, Musashi seizes up a ringside mic.] TM: Yes, Ike Sampson... I am evil. That's one thing the bible always lied about. The meek won't inherit the earth. The pure of heart are offered no reward. The good people -- what I like to call the weak and stupid people -- merely get trampled beneath the feet of those strong, ruthless and clever enough to take the whole world in their hands and shake it up into violence and mayhem. Well, poster boy, no matter how many steroids you pump into your veins, you'll always be the weak and stupid man; maybe not physically, but always in your heart and in your will. I'm the strong man, Sampson. I'm the ruthless man, the violent man, and the world is all mine for the plundering. You'll never be anything more than the average joe who gets screwed over by those smarter than himself, because you don't have the courage or the imagination to break free from the shackles of law and order and do whatever the hell you please. But don't worry, poster boy... all "good puppies" eventually go to heaven. [At this comment, the Enigma flashes a malevolent, sadistic grin, and begins to drive big punishing stomps into the head and chest of the incapacitated man before him. Ike Sampson, too groggy to be paying much attention at this point, merely shudders under the impact, his head lolling on his chest.] TD: I sincerely hope the Enigma will not go so far as to end another career here tonight... No wait! Here comes the Jobber Justice Squad! Ike Sampson may have been saved in the nick of time! SR: He's not nearly out of the frying pan yet, Dross man... [Musashi catches sight of the Jobber Justice Squad charging towards him, and quick as a flash, dips into his tights and whips out his now familiar sharpened metal shiv. Rapidly, he presses the tip to Ike Sampson's throat, and yells at the Squad to "Get Back!". The jobbers stop dead in their tracks; having never dealt with such a situation before, they are uncertain as to what to do. Musashi presses the point of the shiv down harder, right over a pulsing vein on Sampson's neck, on the verge of breaking skin, and yells at them to "Get Back!" once again. This time, the Justice Squad, fearing the recklessness of the Enigma, begin to back slowly up the aisle, expressions of concern on their faces.] TD: This is... this is just insane! Could the Enigma really be capable of murder? [Musashi grins madly, drops the shiv, and picks up the mic again.] TM: That's right... the mayhem is over when _I_ say it's over, not by the decree of these laughable agents of law and order. You see this pathetic pile of splintered bones at my feet? This is a man who has allowed himself to become nothing more than a tool of a manipulative organisation. The "Wrestle Clean" campaign? It's nothing more than a shallow image; an attempt to disguise the true amoral nature of those who govern the IIWF. What sanctions have been put in place to curb the rule breaking and back stabbing that goes on in the arena and behind closed doors? Which wrestlers have been punished for their crimes and misdeeds? Have we seen even one small increment, even one small shift towards the good, clean wrestling Osterhout preaches? I'm here to reveal to you all that the "Wrestle Clean" campaign is nothing but a sham; a farce designed to garner the IIWF some cheap, favourable publicity. And this man Ike Sampson, who has allowed himself to be the poster boy for this joke of a campaign, has now become nothing more than a farce, an image, a sheep manipulated by his employees... a god damn Uncle Tom. And let me tell you now... that sickens me to the core of my very being. [Musashi grimaces and lashes out, kicking Sampson across the chops.] But something is growing in the underworld of the IIWF. Something is seething beneath the bowels of the Coliseums and the arenas; unbeknownst to all the officials and the promoters, but steadily expanding in strength and might... and it's threatening to smash through the illusion. I'm the only man who offers you something REAL in this federation! And I don't need to play around with any images to tell you, that it's going to catapult me straight to the top of the wrestling world! Nothing and nobody can stand in my way... not with the feldging forces of chaos gathering in my stead. Dare to cross me, and you'll know the fate of Icehawk, Carlitos, Ike Sampson, and all the other feeble cowards destroyed in the wake of my fury. I give you the three hallmarks of a true warrior and champion: Suicidal coruage. Unbridled chaos. And most important of all... blood soaking, bone breaking, glorious violence. Soon, you will all know these things very well... [Musashi throws down the microphone, fury and madness like a raging fire in his gaze, and seizes up the nearest ringside table. Musashi pushes it up into the air, bits of equipment spilling across the floor, and then topples the hard wood down across the body of Ike Sampson. The table lies horizontal, propped up over the crowd barriers, and shuffles slightly as Ike Sampson, starting to revive somewhat, struggles to free himself from his bonds beneath. The Enigma, however, is unheeding as he leaps up onto the apron, nimbly springboarding off the ropes, curling his body into a tight ball, and somersaulting back through the air towards the table, smashing through it and into Ike Sampson with incredible velocity. The crowd pops in shock and horror, splinters settle on the concrete, but Takezo Musashi stirs amid the table wreckage, climbing free and raising his fists to the air to a deafening level of heel heat. Sampson remains trapped against the barriers, apparently unconscious, blood trickling down his forehead.] TD: And there goes Takezo Musashi, once again leaving the arena with a scene of carnage behind him... although I expect he'll be back for his hotly anticipated match against Duncan Macbeth shortly. SR: Unbelievable, Dross old buddy. This Luxembourgian guy has just been going loco over the past few weeks... Breaking Icehawk's neck; ending the career of some Puerto Rican relic; and now this. Heh... the "Wrestle Clean" campaign sure seems a little deflated now doesn't it? TD: I'm sure that our esteemed VP will enforce his new policies to the full, Steve Roberts, and I, for one, still have faith in the IIWF and sportsmanship, even if a great deal of athletes around here clearly no longer do so. [Musashi disappears backstage, as several members of the maintenance team work at freeing Ike Sampson from the crowd barriers. As Sampson's arms are freed, the bloody Big Dog hauls himself up onto his knees. The fans give a huge pop as Sampson forces himself groggily up onto his feet, lolling dangerously against the barriers and unable to see for all the blood in his eyes.] TD: Oh my! Ike Sampson is on his feet! Unbelievable! Listen to these fans, Steve Roberts! SR: Sampson's in a bad way, Dross. He got his ass handed to him by the crazy Belgian guy. TD: He's Japanese, Steve Roberts -- but Ike Sampson is still standing! He is a three hundred pound powerhouse, and it seems that not even the Enigma's brutal assault can stop him! [Sampson receives a standing ovation as he is helped to the back, walking more or less under his own steam, but rather unsteady. Cut back to Dross and Roberts at ringside.] TD: Yet again, Takezo Musashi brings his own brand of chaos to the IIWF. Folks, we're now running somewhat behind schedule, but we have some tremendous action coming up this hour -- we will see that big non-title match between Shadoe Rage and Steve Kowalski, we will see the Retirement Match between the Subway Psycho and Tony Starks, we will see Musashi back out here to face Duncan Macbeth... and we'll kick it all off with a big, big IIWF World Tag Team Championship Match pitting the present holders, the Natural Predators, against the Down Boys, who turned on them so brutally last week! Let's get up to the ring! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| IIWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Natural Predators vs. Down Boys ....................................................................... WRITER: Mike Sonby [Sparkplug Lee enters the ring and bows to the fans, drawing a round of applause, before beginning.] SL: This match is for the IIWF World Tag Team Titles! [Applause, led by Team Sychosys] Introducing first, the challengers. Weighing a combined total of 457 pounds, led by their manager, Awesome T, here are "Superstud" Adam Peterson and "Dazzling" Dan Oliver, THE DOWN BOYS! ["Down Boys" by Warrant begins, and the Down Boys head towards the ring. But the Down Boys are not dressed in their normal ring attire. Their normally hairsprayed hair is slicked back, and they wear black leather jacket and black tights with Japanese writing on the backsides. Black sunglasses complete the ensemble. Awesome T leads the charge, but his Jay Buhner baseball bat is conspicuously missing. The crowd responds with a surprising amount of cheers.] TD: The Down Boys, who wrestled for years in Japan, are warmly received tonight. I'm told that the inscription on the... SR: Asses. They've got stuff on their asses. It's like they sat down in some ink. TD: Regardless, the writing is Japanese for "Dog Eat Dog". [As the Down Boys enter the ring and stand on the turnbuckles, Sparkplug finishes his duties.] SL: And their opponents are the IIWF World Tag Team champions! Weighing a combined total of 625 pounds, led by Kuyler Greyson, here are Bear and the Grey Phoenix... THE NATURAL PREDATORS! ["Destination Eschaton" starts up, and the champions file down to ringside. They also receive a warm response from the Japanese fans. They shake hands with the Japanese fans as they walk down to ringside, but always have an eye on the ring, watching their opponents.] TD: Two weeks ago, this would have been a tremendous match between two teams with a lot of friendship between them. But after last week's actions by the Down Boys, this match... SR: ...is still boring as hell. Gay guys fighting gay guys... wake me up when the Fury arrives. TD: You can't go to sleep, Soundbite. The Predators are in the ring, and hand referee Earl Alfonso the belts. [The bell rings, and Adam Peterson steps into the centre of the ring. Instead of the larger Bear, the Grey Phoenix starts off for the champions. They lock up in the middle of the ring, and the Phoenix armdrags Peterson over. Peterson gets back to his feet, they lock up again, and this time Peterson takes Phoenix over with a hiptoss. Phoenix kips up and attempts to clothesline Peterson, but the Down Boy ducks under Phoenix's arm, then attempts a superkick that Phoenix sidesteps. Just before they lock up again, a voice is heard... The crowd becomes pretty animated as they look over towards the entrance way. There stands Agito Nakajima and Sho Satsuma of the Fabulous Ones. They're in their wrestling outfits. Agito has a microphone.] AN: Ogenki Desu ka, Nagano! [The crowd lets loose with a homeland style ovation. In the ring, the Down Boys and the Natural Predators stop wrestling to look at the interrupting intruders.] AN: Hey, Down Children, you hear that? That's the sound of our fans. Sure you've wrestled here in Japan, but that doesn't mean the Japanese people like you. [Sho makes an "X" over his groin, gesturing towards the ring. The Down Boys seem to get pretty angry over that gesture.] AN: Now, I realise that there's a tag team championship match going on, but since the IIWF wants ratings, we felt that our presence was necessary for this reason. Double Eye, you're welcome! [Sho dashes off behind the curtain and brings out a slim square object. It looks like thick paper.] AN: As a gift to our homeland fans, we thought we'd unveil a new product from Tsuburaya Enterprises. [Sho hands the object to Agito.] AN: It's an eighteen month long Fabulous Ones calendar. Yes, every woman can now own a little piece of the Fabulous Ones to have when their lonely at night, or because their man can't get the job down. This is it. Take a peek. [The Down Boys want to do something about the duo but must stay in the ring or get counted out. The Predators also seem very upset by the Fabs presence as well. They would do something but they're fighting champions and want this match with the Down Boys. Sho grabs the microphone as Agito opens the calendar, showing different months. The jumbotron kicks on to show a close up of the pictures inside for the rest of the crowd.] SS: Now, look at this beautiful piece of wrestling brilliance. [Sho points to a picture of himself leaping from the top turnbuckle about to land on Awesome T, the manager of the Down Boys. This doesn't set to well with Awesome T who looks on with anger.] SS: All the ladies will like this one. [It's a picture of Sho and Agito posing with Ms. Miki by their side.] SS: Oh, I really like this one. [It's a picture of Paul Wong being gorilla pressed by Agito before he throws him over the top rope to the floor.] SS: And, did the men think we'd forget them... hell no! Check this one out! [Agito flips to the centre of the calendar. It's a two page picture of Ms. Miki lying on her stomach on the wet sand of a beach wearing a red bikini bottom. A huge cheer rises from the crowd.] SS: Yeah, I thought you'd like that! Now, not to give everything away, but let's show one more. [It's a picture of Sho doing his "Nagoya Strut".] SS: Domo arigato! [They both turn around to leave, but Sho stops, spins back around. At that point the Down Boys are ready to get the match back on with the Predators only to be interrupted again.] SS: Oh, damn -- I almost forgot. [Sho shows the back of the calendar, it's a picture of the Down Boys mooning the Fabulous Ones.] Check this out, it's like a Mad magazine. [Sho bends the picture in half and it changes into a new picture of Peterson kissing Oliver's ass. The crowd unleashes a monster applause as Sho laughs hysterically. Awesome T has had enough and starts walking towards Sho, shaking his head. Sho wisely retreats, waving and laughing.] TD: The Down Boys are certainly upset with the antics of the Fabulous Ones, but don't want to waste their shot at the tag team titles. It looks like the Fabulous Ones are leaving, so hopefully this match will continue. SR: I was hoping the AbFabs would actually interfere in the match. TD: I'm going to regret this, but why? SR: Two reason. First, I get to check out Miki some more. And also, the match might be over then. [Peterson and Phoenix lock up again, and Peterson grabs Phoenix in a headlock. A shove from Phoenix sends Peterson to the ropes, and as Phoenix attempts a backdrop, Peterson somersaults over Phoenix and lands on his feet. Both men turn around, face each other, and attempt a dropkick on each other. Both men get up, and Phoenix charges... into a deep arm drag by Peterson, who reaches up and tags in Oliver.] TD: Lots of early action by both teams, Steve. SR: Give it up, Dross. It's tag teams. No matter how you sugarcoat it, it's still a damn tag team match. [Oliver hops up to the ropes and drops an elbow across the chest of Phoenix, then goes back to the headlock. Phoenix gets to his feet and lifts Oliver up for a back suplex, but Oliver reaches out and tags Peterson back into the ring as he hits the mat. Phoenix grabs Oliver in an armbar, but doesn't realise he's the illegal man until Peterson bulldogs Phoenix to the mat. Peterson immediately tags Oliver back into the ring and whips Phoenix into the ropes. As Phoenix rebounds, Peterson takes Phoenix down with a legsweep, and Oliver leaps off the ropes to drop a leg across the back of his head. Oliver turns Phoenix over for a cover, but gets a two-count.] TD: Excellent teamwork by the Dow... SR: That does it... I'm sick of the tag teams. I'm taking a nap. TD: No, you're... SR: Yes, I am. I have many plans checking out the seamy underside of Japanese nightlife after this card, and I need my rest. And what better to lull me to dreamland than a tag team match? [Oliver whips Phoenix into the ropes, and leapfrogs over Phoenix on the rebound. However, Phoenix stops in his tracks, turns around, and delivers a "Ghetto Blaster" spinwheel kick to the back of Oliver's head, sending him crashing to the mat. Phoenix quickly covers for a one-count. An elbow stuns Oliver, and Phoenix picks up Oliver and nails him with a snap suplex for another two count. A whip to the ropes is reversed and re-reversed, and After Oliver hits the turnbuckle, Phoenix follows up with a dropkick to Oliver in the corner... and another two-count.] TD: The Grey Phoenix with a flurry of moves... Steve, open your eyes! ["Soundbite" Steve Roberts is leaning back in his chair and has his arms behind his head with his eyes closed.] SR: [still with eyes closed] No... can't make me. TD: You could be fired for this! SR: Oh, all right... Best weekend of my life... Shoot, someone, Shoot!... Me and Chelsea doing the horizontal tango... There. I fulfilled my obligations for this match. Now lemme get my beauty rest. [As Dross shakes his head, The Grey Phoenix whips Oliver towards the other corner... but in mid-ring, Oliver stops, pivots, and whips Phoenix back into the Down Boys' corner. Oliver follows up with a tag to Peterson and a monkey flip, and Peterson hops up to the top turnbuckle and drops a fist onto Phoenix, then covers for a two count. Peterson picks Phoenix up, kicks him in the stomach to double him up for a DDT... which is turned into a Northern Light Suplex by Phoenix. Phoenix picks up Peterson's leg and drags him over to the corner to tag in the Massive Bear.] TD: Bear's in the match for the first time... he has such a huge size advantage over the Down Boys that they need to keep moving. Being caught by him is serious problems... Steve, wake up! SR: [mumbling between loud snores] ...No... can't... make... me... [Bear steps into the ring and drops an elbow into Peterson's stomach, then picks him up and uses a gutwrench suplex to take him over. Bear covers, but gets a one count. Bear kicks Peterson twice, then whips him to the ropes, and plants him with a powerslam on the return. He covers for a 1... 2... Dan Oliver enters the ring and pulls Bear off of Peterson, breaking the count. Peterson tries to head over for the tag, but Bear picks him up by the hair and stands behind Peterson, before delivering four head butts to the back of Peterson's head. Bear applies a full nelson, then drives Peterson into the mat, falling on top of him.] TD: That's the Hibernation! Peterson's in the middle of the ring... [But Daniel Oliver hops up to the turnbuckle and moonsault legdrop onto the prone Bear, freeing Peterson. As Phoenix enters the ring to even the odds, Peterson trips up Phoenix, allowing Oliver to deliver a DDT to Phoenix. Oliver helps Peterson up, and they whip Bear into the ropes, then deliver a double hiptoss to bring the big man to the mat. The referee orders Oliver and Phoenix back to the corners, and Peterson applies an armbar to Bear.] TD: Peterson trying to keep Bear on the mat, which I think is a mistake. Bear is going to... [looks over at Soundbite, who is still resting his eyes. Dross shakes his head.] BLOOD! SR: [snaps his eyes open, and looks into the ring.] We've got blood? All right! Maybe now... [he looks into the ring, then stares at Dross.] You are a mean, spiteful person, Dross. TD: Welcome back. [Peterson drops a knee onto Bear's elbow four times, but Bear makes it to his knees, then to his feet. Peterson reaches out and tags in Oliver, who climbs up to the turnbuckle. As Peterson keeps Bear from moving, Oliver leaps off the ropes with a hurricanrana into a cradle and covers for a one count. Oliver reaches up and tags in Peterson again.] TD: The Down Boys are relying on very quick tags, while the Predators have only made one tag the entire match. SR: Yeah, yeah. How could you do that to me, Dross? [Peterson hops up to the turnbuckle and leaps off with a clothesline onto Bear. Peterson follows it up by picking up Bear and whipping him into the Down Boys' corner, then tagging Oliver back in. Peterson uses his body to block Bear, allowing Oliver to grabs Bear's head and driving it down with his knee. He covers for a count of 1...2... kickout! Oliver whips Bear into the ropes, knees him in the gut, and lifts him up for a ugly-looking but effective piledriver. He covers again for a 1...2... kickout!] TD: Bear is in real trouble. If he doesn't tag out soon... SR: You mean if he doesn't get out of tags soon. A guy that big shouldn't be wasting time with partners. [Oliver drops a leg, then nods to Peterson. As Oliver hops up to the ropes, Peterson flies off with a kneedrop. Then, Oliver springs off with a moonsault to complete the "Fly To The Angels" while Peterson tackles a charging Phoenix. Oliver makes the cover... 1... 2... Bear benchpresses Oliver off of him, lifting Oliver three feet in the air. As Oliver gets to his feet, he is met by a very angry Bear. He attempts an armbar, but Bear grabs him in a waistlock and plants Oliver with a sudden belly to back suplex. The referee orders the other men out of the ring again while Bear picks up Oliver for a vertical suplex, then plants him with a gorilla press. Bear makes his hand into a claw shape...] TD: I've heard that Bear was working on a new finishing hold, the "Bear Claw". This may be it. SR: Gee, I wonder what made you think that? His fancy spastic motions with his hand? TD: Boy, you get snappish when you don't get your sleep. [Bear drives the claw into Oliver's stomach, causing Oliver to yell in pain. The referee asks for a submission, but Oliver shakes his head no. Bear steps over and picks Oliver up in a sidewalk slam style, driving him to the mat and applying the claw even further into Oliver's stomach. Peterson enters the ring, but Grey Phoenix enters the ring and uses Bear to vault himself into a dropkick on Peterson. With Oliver's shoulder's on the mat, the referee makes the count... 1... 2... Daniel Oliver shoots his right arm out and reaches the ropes! The referee sees the action, and forces the break. Alfonso gets to four and a half before Bear reluctantly releases the hold.] TD: This match has been surprisingly clean so far. SR: Don't remind me. Not only is it a tag team match, but there hasn't been a rule broken yet. It makes me sick. TD: I never understood why you hated tag teams so much. SR: I had a partner once... TD: Did he turn on you? SR: No... I turned on him. But it taught me that you can't trust anyone. [Bear drops an elbow onto Oliver, then reaches up and tag Phoenix in. While Bear picks up Oliver in a vertical suplex, Phoenix hops up to the turnbuckles. Bear holds Oliver upside down while Phoenix leaps off the top ropes with a picture-perfect high-cross bodyblock, sending him crashing onto Oliver! The crowd counts along with the referee... 1... 2... Peterson gets into the ring and pulls Phoenix off of Oliver! Phoenix drives Peterson into the corner while the referee orders Bear out of the ring. Phoenix nails Peterson with a superkick and covers... but Earl Alfonso points out that Peterson isn't the legal man. Phoenix walks over to Oliver, picks him up, and whips him to the ropes... as Oliver rebounds, Phoenix leaps up and goes for the Wolf Maul corkscrew hurricanrana... but Oliver holds onto the ropes, then delivers an inverted powerbomb onto the Grey Phoenix. Oliver is too exhausted to cover, and just rolls over onto his back. The referee starts a double count.] TD: Both teams have given a tremendous match, one that the audience obviously appreciates. SR: Hoo-ray. Yip-pee. I'm so excited... and I just can't hide it... [At the count of four, Oliver rolls back over and covers Phoenix... 1... 2... kickout! But Oliver grabs him in a headlock, heads over to his corner, and tags in Peterson. Peterson picks up the Grey Phoenix into a shoulderbreaker, then covers for a 1...2...kickout! Peterson tags in Oliver, then whips the Grey Phoenix... who reverses the whip... Phoenix bends down for a backdrop, but Peterson leaps over into an attempted sunset flip. Phoenix braces himself, and pushes his weight forward to keep from being hit with the sunset flip, not noticing that the legal man is on the top ropes...] TD: Daniel Oliver with a hurricanrana... into a cradle! [The referee counts... 1.... 2....] TD: Three! Phoenix kicks out... but was it too late? [Earl Alfonso looks over... and orders the timekeeper to ring the bell. DING! DING! DING!] TD: New champions! New champions! SR: Calm down, Dross! It's just the tag teams, for crying out loud! [Sparkplug Lee enters the ring with the belts while Earl Alfonso raises the hand of Daniel Oliver and Awesome T embraces Adam Peterson.] SL: The winners of this contest... and _NEW_ IIWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS... THE DOWN BOYS! [The Down Boys rush out and grabs the belts from Sparkplug, then raise them above their heads. The Japanese crowd cheer their adopted wrestlers. A crushed Grey Phoenix looks ready to jump them, but Bear and Kuyler Greyson hold him back.] TD: A fantastic win by the Down Boys. Both teams had a tremendous match, but the Down Boys had a hometown advantage, and used it to win the IIWF belts. SR: Great. Last week, these guys looked ready to kill each other. This week, they wrestle, and not ONE steel chair is used! TD: I don't think the Predators and the Down Boys are friends, Steve. But both teams wrestled a clean match, trying to impress the Japanese audience. SR: "Wrestling a clean match" is a code phrase for "Don't want to win the match." TD: Both teams wanted very much to win. And the Predators almost pulled off a successful title defense. They have nothing to be ashamed of. But the Down Boys put it together and beat the champions... so they are the new champions. [The dejected Natural Predators leave the ring while the Down Boys celebrate in the ring.] TD: Our next bout pits two of our singles champions against one another, as Intercontinental champion Duncan Macbeth takes on the Enigma, Cruiserweight champ Takezo Musashi. SR: I've got a question about this one, Dross. TD: What's that? SR: If Macbeth manages to win, how in the world can he be the Cruiserweight champion? He's a little big to be playing with the little guys, isn't he? TD: This is a non-title match, Steve. SR: So all three of our champs are wrestling in non-title matches today? TD: Right. SR: We really don't think much of our Japanese fans, do we? ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| CHAMPION vs. CHAMPION NON-TITLE MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| "Enigma" Takezo Musashi vs. Duncan Macbeth ....................................................................... WRITER: Dave Hogg [At that point, the Dynamic Duo is interrupted by Sparkplug, who clears his throat into the mic, then drops it when the sound echoes throughout the building. He picks it back up, and starts the introductions.] SL: The next match is a Champions versus Champion match! The first competitor, from right here In Japan, the Cruiserweight champion of the world, the Enigma, Takezo Musashi! [As the Enigma's music kicks in, he is greeted by loud jeers, in recognotion of his brutal assault on Ike Sampson earlier in the evening. Once again, he is dressed in his black karate pants, and has pentacles on them, on his bare chest and around his eyes. While he is making his way to the ring, a man in a very expensive suit catches his attention, and hands him an envelope. The pair bow to each other, and Musashi stops to open the gift.] SR: What's going on? It's a little late for Christmas cards. TD: No, Steve. It is a tradition in some parts of Japan for rich patrons of a sport to show their appreciation of top athletes with a gift. That envelope probably contains a note and a check. SR: Wow! Bonus time for the Mongolian! TD: He's Japanese, Steve. SR: The rich guy? Yeah, Dross, I knew that. TD: Never mind. [At this point, the Enigma has opened up the envelope, and looks puzzled by the check. Next, he reads the note. Instantly, his face contorts in rage, and he flings both the check and the note to the floor. He looks into the crowd in an attempt to find the delivery man, but he has vanished into the throng of fans.] SR: Hey, he's throwing away money. Has he lost his tiny Korean mind? TD: Somehow, I think there was more to that than a gift. We are going to try to get ahold of that discarded note to see if we can figure out what just happened. SL: His opponent, from Scotland, the Intercontinental champion of the world, Duncan Macbeth! [Again, a respectful pop from the crowd, although Duncan is obviously a huge hit with the young women present, who are wildly dancing to "Tubthumping". Macbeth looks perfectly healthy and composed. As a matter of fact, he looks much better than his companion, Timothy Turner, who pauses every few strides to cast a nervous glance over his shoulder.] TD: Well, Steve Roberts, we still have to find out if Duncan Macbeth is fully recovered from the severe concussion that he suffered just over a week ago at the hands of Simon Lebec -- an injury he aggravated the next time in a tag-team match. SR: And it looks like TNT is running scared of Duncan's big brother. TD: Indeed it does, Steve. Obviously, there is some kind of problem between Turner and wrestling legend Andrew Macbeth. Of course, TNT has some backup available with the NorthPac Coalition seated in the front row. [While Turner takes a place at ringside, Macbeth enters the ring. But before he even gets completely through the ropes, he is jumped by a still-furious Musashi. The Enigma lands several chops and hard kicks to Macbeth's abdomen and head, never giving the big Scot a chance to defend himself.] TD: Look at the fury written on the face of the Enigma. Right now, with this anger added to his already amazing range of skills, he must be the most dangerous man in the IIWF. Hang on, I'm being told that our intern has retrieved the note that so angered Takezo Musashi. [pause] Oh my. SR: What is it? TD: Listen to this note: "Dear Enigma, A wise man once said that whatever does not destroy you makes you stronger. You have made me stronger than you can ever dream. Prepare for your doom." And the note is signed with a picture of a glittering bird of prey carved out of ice. SR: Great! TD: Great? I wouldn't have thought that this was good news for you. SR: Are you kidding? This means that the Enigma is going to be attacked by that great Indian wrestler -- Frigid Owl! TD: No, Steve Roberts, I'm pretty sure it does not mean that. SR: No? TD: No. I'm almost positive that it means that Icehawk intends to come back and take revenge for the injuries he has sustained at Takezo Musashi's hands. SR: Icehawk? Not Frigid Owl? Are you sure? TD: I am. SR: Damn. I hate that gay guy. [Back in the ring, Musashi has continued to dominate a dazed Macbeth, but that changes as he springs off the ropes and gets caught in a chokeslam! Pop! Macbeth shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs, then scoops up the Cruiserweight champion for a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker. Next, he locks in a Boston Crab, putting pressure on the Enigma's spine, while TNT taunts Musashi from outside the ring.] TD: The Boston Crab! Remember, that's the move that won Duncan Macbeth the Intercontinental Title! Wait... I'm being told that someone is coming to the ring! SR: Hey...hey...we don't need him out here! TD: Ladies and gentlemen, Christopher Stonebreaker is making his way down toward ringside, and he's got the bucket that "Real Deal" Luke Steele used against him last week! SR: He's got no right sticking his nose here where it's not wanted. Shouldn't he be off picking those peppers or playing with those snakes or whatever it does he does back in Louisiana. [Christopher Stonebreaker, with the water bucket literally dragging behind him, makes his way down toward the ring, a near glazed look over his face, not paying attention to any of the Japanese fans, as he never takes his eyes off the ring. What he sees is Musashi slowly and painfully dragging himself to the ring ropes. He reaches them, draping his right arm over the bottom strand, only to have TNT immediately knock it off. Unfortunately for Duncan Macbeth, referee Dave D'Amato was paying attention, and forces him to break the hold. ] TD: What does Stonebreaker want? I mean, he's obviously still upset over the loss to Luke Steele. SR: Upset over a loss to Steele? Who would have thought that possible? [Musashi makes his way to his feet just in time to be charged by Macbeth. The Cruiserweight champion ducks under a clothesline, and as Duncan comes off the rope, the Enigma levels with with a spin kick to the head. Just as the Scot drops like he was shot, Stonebreaker dives under the bottom rope, pulls the water bucket up, and slams it into Musashi's back, sending the wrestler sliding across the ring. Stonebreaker then pushes the referee out of the way, sending him through the ropes out to the floor.] TD: What in the world is Christopher Stonebreaker doing? He's attacking the Cruiserweight champion of the world with a water bucket. [As both Musashi and Macbeth make their way to their feet, Stonebreaker continues to advance on the Enigma. Duncan Macbeth grabs him by the shoulder, but Stonebreaker swings around into a discus punch, catching the bigger man right on the jaw and sending him back to the canvas. That gives Musashi an opening, and he charges, only to be caught by a boot to the chest from a spinning Stonebreaker.] TD: Christopher Stonebreaker has gone insane and is fighting off both Duncan Macbeth and Takezo Musashi. [As Musashi gets back up, Stonebreaker gets into what looks like a baseball batter's stance.] SR: Hey, batter, batter, swing! He's going for an Enigma home run! [Musashi however, has no plans on meeting the steel bucket, and immediately leaps over the top rope and to the floor. As he glares, Stonebreaker grabs the ring microphone away from Sparkplug, who was apparently going to announce Dave D'Amato's decision.] CS: That's right, Musashi. How the _hell_ does it feel? [The crowd is sitting fairly quietly, not exactly sure what is happening.] CS: You know something? When I came to the Double Eye, everyone told me that that was the place where a man could prove himself. Well, first off... [The cajun drops the water bucket down to his feet, before nodding to Macbeth.] CS: Mac, I'm going to apologise to you here and now for what I did.... [Chris then points completely around the arena to all the Nagano fans] CS: And I know this ain't want you all came to see tonight between these two men. But.. [Musashi immediately tries to climb back up in the ring, but Stonebreaker picks up the waterbucket, and Enigma immediately hops back down to the ring floor.] CS: But there is something that I have to get off my chest. And I'm going to get it off right here right now. When I first signed up, I was told I was going up against the world's best athletes. They put me up against _you_, Musashi. That's right, you do remember. One warrior against another. But it seems like every time I turned around, good ol' Ronnie was right there in the way. And then... well then Enig... let me put this bluntly... _YOU in' snapped_!!! [Chris waits as the crowd pop dies down at the assumption of Musashi having "lost his cool" in the sport. Musashi again tries to climb up in the ring, but again comes up short, as Chris waves the bucket overhead once again.] CS: In the past two weeks, Musashi, I've had a damn shockstick driven in my ribs... and I've been nailed not only by a hammer, but also this... SR: [over headset] What's he complaining about? It was his own hammer. [Stonebreaker holds up the water bucket so that the camera gets a clear shot of it.] CS: Now, my argument with Steele sure as HELL ain't over with yet. But I'm blaming one man for all the [BLEEP] that's going on around here. [Chris immediately points a finger directly at Musashi, who sneers back at Stonebreaker.] CS: Personally, I could care less what kind of grudge you have with Osterhout, Enigma. But you started this little routine that I've had to deal with incessantly since I first walked in these doors... SR: [over headset] Hell, if he can't deal with it, why don't he just walk out? CS: And that means I will be coming after you, Enig. You see, the first thing I'm going to do is I'm going to take out those festering breeding grounds that just seemed to pop up wherever you went. First... Steele is going to pay for... [Chris again holds up the waterbucket.] CS: ...for this! And I don't care what it takes, Musashi, and personally I don't care if I get thanked, hated, or reviled for what I'm going to have to do to you, but you personally are going to pay. You are going to pay when you turned on these fans, when you turned on me, and when you turned on the _IIWF_, and you are going to pay _DEARLY!_ You want to ignore this new slogan of the offices, Musashi, well, you, son, until I convince you to take a good hard look at what you've become, you get your wish, you son of a bitch. [Musashi just smiles his eerie grin at Stonebreaker, and mouths something in Japanese, when Chris suddenly tosses the microphone to the ground, and dives out under the bottom rope right at Musashi, but the Enigma immediately retreats back out of the way of the larger Cajun.] CS: [just heard by the camera] You started this... and I'm going to [BLEEP]ing finish it! TM: [as he walks away] You are not finishing anything! Except maybe your career, you stupid fool! [Musashi makes his way toward the back of the arena, and the referee is trying to keep Christopher from going after the man, as the Enigma heads back up the ramp towards the curtain... but a figure emerges behind him!] TD: That's the Grey Phoenix! What is he doing out here? [The Phoenix waits as Musashi backs unknowingly towards him, then spins him around and gives him a DDT on the steel ramp! Shocked crowd pop! The Phoenix then flings sweat onto the downed Enigma, using the same four-figured gesture that Bear used when he did the same thing to the Cruiserweight champion two weeks ago. He then turns and walks to the back, leaving Musashi laid out on the ramp. But after a few moments, the Enigma jumps to his feet, and charges into the back.] TD: Obviously the Grey Phoenix is still angry about losing the tag-team belts! And with that gesture, he makes it obvious that the attack was a revenge for the injury suffered by his Horseman colleague. SR: Are you telling me that the so-called New Horsemen are going to the Natural Predators and Cold Spell? My god, four gay guys. Flare must be turning over in his grave. TD: I'm pretty sure that Flare isn't dead, but who else could the Horsemen be? We know that Edmund Fitzgerald has allied himself with the Natural Predators, and that makes Icehawk the obvious fourth member. And now there have been two attacks on the Enigma. And that would also explain the delay in any kind of official announcement -- they are waiting for Icehawk to recover. SR: [moans] TD: Well, I have just been informed that since Christopher Stonebreaker [shown being escorted to the back by IIWF security] attacked both men, the match has been ruled a no-contest. [The camera picks up Duncan Macbeth and Timothy Turner in the ring. Macbeth, obviously still dazed from the effect's of Musashi's spin kick and Stonebreaker's discus punch, is leaning against the ropes, trying to regain his equilibrium. Suddenly, both men are flattened by a pair of attackers who charge in from out of camera range.] TD: It's Team Sychosys! Joe Petrow and Maurice McArthur are attacking Turner and Macbeth! [Macbeth immediately goes down from a Petrow enziguiri, leaving Turner to try to fend off both men. For a few moments, he is able to do that, but is quickly overwhelmed. After a short beating, Petrow hoists TNT onto his shoulders, setting him up for TS's Spike Syclone Suplex. But before 4M can leap off the top rope, he is flung across the ring by Andrew Macbeth, who has come charging out of the back. Macbeth then goes after Petrow, and while Joe tries to get rid of TNT, throws him over the top rope. As TS retreat to the back, Andrew walks away without a word to Turner or his brother. TNT watches him leave, then shrugs and helps Duncan to the back.] TD: What a wild, wild match! Half of the IIWF is after the Enigma, Team Sychosys attacks Duncan Macbeth and Timothy Turner, and Andrew Macbeth saves his younger brother then leaves without a single word. SR: And Duncan Macbeth is being helped out of the arena once again. TD: That's correct -- we must start wondering if he needs to take some time off before his head injuries become even worse. [The arena lights drop to blackness. A huge heel pop emanates from the crowd. A gong is heard, followed by the intense drum beat of "Hands of Death" by Rob Zombie and Alice Cooper. A red crimson spotlight creates an eerie setting, as Serge Annis makes his way from behind the curtain.] TD: What's Annis doing out here? He wasn't scheduled. SR: Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll set that mop on yer head on fire. [Annis is wearing black boots and jeans, and his new IIWF shirt which says the words "Napalm Enema" on the front in bloody red lettering, and "Evil" on the back, with the same style font. A fan reaches out to touch Serge's shoulder, and Serge spins around to face the fan. Annis stares into the young boy's eyes for a moment, the kid grinning at him. The icy look on Annis' face doesn't change, and Annis actually spits at the kid, before turning around and continuing on his way to the ring.] TD: He just spat on a fan. That is hideous. SR: I have feeling that he just doesn't care. [Annis makes his way into the ring, and stands in the centre, extending his arms, and hanging his head like a crucifixion, without the cross. The red crimson glow bounces off Serge's white flesh and creates an eerie and spectral feeling. Annis slams his hands down, which is the normal set up for his trademark fireworks, but much to no avail, as Operation: Wrestle Clean has taken away his fireworks. Instead, the lights of the arena all drop to black, including the red crimson glow. The hardcore, Serge Annis fans all pull out their Zippo brand lighters and raise them high to the sky. A sea of small one inch flames spreads over the arena.] TD: The kind of power this man holds over these fans is very uncomfortable to me, Steve. Here is a man that almost killed Mad Dog Watkins by setting him on fire in the cage, yet they still come out here in hordes to cheer him on. SR: They are all a bunch of sick teens, Dross. Somehow, some way they relate to Annis and nothing he does can be wrong in their eyes. It's very similar to the bunch of goofs behind me. Ain't that right idiots? [The Steve Roberts fans all jump up and collectively shout "Oh hell yeah!" Roberts smirks.] SR: See, what'd I tell ya? TD: Now if only you could tell me why Serge Annis is out here. [The lights return to normal, and Annis is handed the microphone as the music cuts away.] SA: Last week, I came out here and put an end to the train wreck called Genesis, when I defeated Edmund Fitzgerald square in the centre of the ring. In December, I was the closest thing to IIWF World Champion, that you could ever get, when it was down to me and Kowalski in the triangle match. About six months ago Serge Annis took care of some chump called the Subway Psycho, and Creed. In August, Serge Annis main evented against Otto 'The Butcher" Verhoeven. What's my point? My point is Serge Annis has been kicking ass here in the IIWF for a damn long time. [The crowd releases a loud heel pop. Annis doesn't change his expression, and stares at the camera.] SA: Several weeks ago, I faced Mad Dog Watkins in a steel cage match, and I gave a finish that no one would ever expect to see happen in the IIWF. Everyone always feared it... what if Serge Annis ever snapped in the IIWF. Well, there's your answer. People get hurt. I came out of that match with a victory. But I don't mean the kind of victory that you get your arm raised for. No... I mean a moral victory over an injustice, that was long overdue. Mad Dog Watkins cost me the world championship, and I've been a very bitter man since. But raising the fires of Hell unto you Watkins was payback. Then you came out here and burned my face! [Members of the crowd release a loud face pop, no pun intended, for Watkins' mention.] SA: Strike one was when you cost me the match. I got even. That was strike two. And now it is -my- turn to swing. So what I'm doing out here is real simple. Mad Dog Watkins, drag your ass out here and meet me in this ring here tonight... one on one, face to burned, charred face. I know you want it too Watkins, so come on out here and face me. SR: Serge Annis against Mad Dog Watkins here tonight! This is what the IIWF is all about Dross! [Annis looks down the isle for several moments. The crowd's anticipation of Mad Dog Watkins slowly dies down, as after a minute, they realise he isn't showing up. A shot shows a very angry Serge Annis in the ring.] SA: Where the Hell are you Old Dog? Come on out here and beat the psycho! I'm calling you out Dog! So stop doing your business out back, and come out here and meet me man to man! [The crowd erupts as the lights drop in the arena and the PA system begins to blare the haunting opening guitar riff of "Paint it Black" by the Rolling Stones. Annis just stands... prepared... angry... staring at the entrance way to the aisle. The crowd rumbles in anticipation as the curtain is thrown away and out from the darkness of the back steps the massive ebony figure of Mad Dog Watkins. Watkins is literally dripping sweat from his thick head and shoulders, the light from the spotlight bounces and dances off the beads producing an eerie effect. Watkins is all business but does not approach the ring. He instead pulls a microphone from one of the IIWF sound crew and raises his massive paw to point at Annis. Simultaneously, the crowd and music fall silent as Watkins begins to speak in a low, gravely voice...] MDW: Man to man... How about fist to face? You wanna be a casualty, Annis? [Annis is now leaning on the ring ropes, shouting at Watkins to bring his old rear into the ring and fight like a man. Watkins smirks and looks to the crowd.] MDW: [pointing at a group of Watkins' fans in the front row near the aisle] What you boys think? [The group explodes, leading the crowd in a huge crowd *POP*!!! Someone holds up a recently made sign that reflects Mad Dog's comments from earlier in the night that reads "We are the Dogs of War. Lead the siege, MDW."] MDW: So be it... Annis... let's rumble. Hit the damn music. [The crowd erupts, but MDW's familiar theme song does not play. Instead, "Natural Born Killers" by Dr. Dre and Ice Cube thumps from the PA and the Dogs of War erupt, surprised by the change in music from the eerie Stones guitar rift to the intense thumping bass that now fills the arena. Watkins drops the microphone and runs head long into the ring, sliding in and tackling Annis. The two behemoths begin to pound each other unmercifully. Referee Joey Patrick shrugs his shoulders and calls for the ring bell. Ding! Ding! Ding!] ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| UNSANCTIONED MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Serge Annis vs. Mad Dog Watkins ....................................................................... WRITER: Steve Carmichael SR: Hot damn, Dross! We've got a first class battle of the badasses going on the ring and it wasn't even advertised on the card! That's like going to the Beaver Trap and finding out it's two-for-one lap dance night! TD: Looks like we've got a slobber-knocker erupting here, folks! SR: And listen to that music, Dross. "Natural Born Killers"...perfect for a knockdown, drag out fight like these two love. TD: The only question is who's going to be the killer in this one, and who's going to end up being the prey? SR: Watkins promised us a war earlier on in the show and I think the old Dog's ready to back it up! Hot damn! I'm taking 5-1 on who bleeds first, Dross. Are you taking? [The unannounced and unplanned match begins as both competitors wail away on each other, with neither man getting a clear advantage. Watkins manages to place a well aimed fist to Serge's mouth, which causes the Epitome of Evil, still clad in his 'Napalm Enema' t-shirt, to stagger back a step. This opens Annis up for a football tackle from Watkins, whom knocks Annis over and pounds on him some more. Annis covers up, trying to protect himself from this onslaught of fists. Referee Joey Patrick yells at Watkins to let up on Annis. Mad Dog Watkins gets up off of Annis, and yells to the crowd. They respond with a huge pop... which is quickly followed by a round of "boo"s as Annis sees the opportunity to hit Watkins with a very well placed European uppercut to the lower midsection. The pain on Watkins' face is apparent, but he still does not go down. Annis is up to one knee. and swings a knife-edge chop to the back of Watkins' knee. Again, Watkins won't go down. Annis is up to both feet now. Serge bounces off the ropes and connects with a lariat clothesline, sending Watkins over the top rope, to the floor. Watkins manages to do a 360 as he falls, and lands on his feet on the arena floor. The look of shock on Annis' face says it all. Serge takes a big breath of air and runs towards the ropes leaping over the ropes and hitting a weak plancha onto Watkins down on the arena floor. Both men are down, after they both strike their skulls on the metal retaining barrier.] TD: Serge Annis with a suicidal leap to the floor! He may not be one the most technically sound wrestlers in the IIWF, but the man will take a risk. SR: I like it, Dross. It's better than those Cruiserweights. When they fall on top of you, there isn't much there because they are all so scrawny. But when a two hundred and ninety pound man does it, bam, it's gonna hurt. TD: Yes, but the unfortunate aftermath I believe is that Annis may have hurt himself on the landing. [Annis is the first one to stir, and whips Mad Dog Watkins into the ringpost, after shaking off the cobwebs. The crowd jeers at the sickening thud of flesh on metal. Annis rolls into the ring to break the Joey's count, then rolls back out only to be met with a boot to the gut, and a whip into the other ringpost. Annis smashes face first into the metal, and once again as Watkins rushes Annis back into it with a kneelift. Annis' nose begins to trickle a few drops of crimson red blood.] SR: Whoo-hoo! It's a fight now boys! There's blood out there! [Watkins rolls Annis back into the ring, and follows him in. Mad Dog hammers on Annis a few times, and sets him up for a vertical suplex. Instead of dumping him on the mat, Watkins moves to drop Annis over the top rope. However, the 6'8" Annis manages to land his feet on the ring apron, and jams a thumb into the eye of Mad Dog. Watkins steps back, and Annis ascends the top rope and comes down with a flying clothesline. As Annis falls to the mat, Mad Dog Watkins catches Serge and turns it into a powerslam. A huge pop is heard as Mad Dog gets back up to his feet. The red blood from Serge's nose is being painted on the mat in small sections. Watkins hits Serge with a big legdrop to the face and covers him, but only manages to snag a two count. Watkins rises to his feet, and helps Serge to his. Watkins hooks Serge's arms up in a tiger driver, but Annis lunges forward, smashing Watkins in the breadbasket with a hard headbutt. This time, Watkins releases and slumps over to the mat. The Japanese crowd does not take kindly to Serge's low blow, and boo him loudly. Annis flips the crowd the finger, and then pounces on Watkins, hammering him with elbows, fists and headbutts. Annis scoops up Watkins and slams him to the mat with a bodyslam, followed by a diving headbutt from the second rope. Annis lifts up Watkins into a running powerslam position, and begins to tear across the ring. However, Annis doesn't stop to powerslam the Dog, but instead runs into the ropes, launching Watkins off of Serge's shoulders, through the air, and crashing through the Norwegian broadcast team's table at ringside. Watkins breaks through the table, and Annis extends his arms out posing for the crowd, expecting the usual appreciative hardcore pop. But he doesn't get it.] TD: I think Serge just may be forgetting that we are in Japan, and hardcore wrestling isn't quite as popular here as it is over in North America. SR: What are you talking about, Dross? Have you seen some of the matches they get over here? Bed of nails matches? Exploding mine matches? Jeezuz, I wish Spreadbury would let us do some of that crazy stuff! TD: Shh... quiet, Steve, the committee may hear you. [As Mad Dog begins to pick himself up out of the mess, Annis climbs through the ropes to the apron. Annis points to Joe Petrow and 4M at ringside and shouts, "This one's for you psycho-boy!" With that, Annis takes a running leap off of the apron and flies through the air with a big elbowdrop to the Norwegian broadcasting position, where Mad Dog Watkins once lay. However, Watkins quickly rolls out of the way, and Annis lands through the remnants of the table. Both wrestlers lay hurt on the floor for a few moments, until Mad Dog walks over to Annis to roll him to the ring. Annis has other plans, and jabs a piece of wood from the broken table into the ribs of Watkins. Annis lunges at Mad Dog and hits him across the face with the stick, shattering it in two, and busting open Watkins' forehead in the process.] SR: Woo! More blood! Give it to me, baby! TD: Steve, have you ever seen a doctor about your fixation for blood? [Watkins staggers back several steps, and Serge rolls back into the ring, to break the count and take a breather. Annis wipes the remaining blood from his nose and smears it over the official's back as he passes by. Mad Dog makes his way onto the apron and Annis steps up and sets up Watkins for a suplex. Mad Dog finds the strength to block the attempted suplex, and proceeds to reverse it, suplexing Annis over the ropes, and dumping him onto the floor. As the ref makes the count, Mad Dog gets back into the ring and raises his hands in the air, receiving a big pop. On the floor, Annis scrapes himself off of the mat, and pushes a ring attendant out of his chair, and sets it up against the ringpost. Annis slowly rolls in right as the ref counts nine, and is met with a forearm by Watkins. Annis is set up to be sent into the turnbuckle by Mad Dog, but Serge reverses it and instead whips Mad Dog into the opposite turnbuckle, and square into Joey Patrick, knocking him down and out.] SR: Here we go Dross! No ref, foreign ground, two of the world's baddest asses, something is about to give here. TD: You are so very right, Steve. Look at Annis, he's going for that steel chair! It's almost as if Annis intentionally threw Mad Dog at the ref. SR: What do you mean, "almost"? [Annis picks up the chair from ringside and sets in the ring. But before he can use it, Mad Dog lunges at Annis with a kneelift. Annis darts back, into the turnbuckle. Mad Dog climbs the buckle and begins to hammer into Serge's skull. The crowd counts up to ten in Japanese as he hammers the Epitome of Evil with punches. As Annis is being punched, a look fires up in his eye, and a sick and evil grin is plastered across his face.] TD: Look at that Steve. Watkins is wailing away at him, and he's enjoying it! [As Mad Dog stops at ten, Annis immediately drives forward, lifting Mad Dog off of him, and driving him down to the mat with a vicious spinebuster! Annis gets up, and looks over to the still downed official, and then looks at chair. The sick grin on his face intensifies, and Annis reaches down and lifts up the chair, ready to strike his enemy. Mad Dog is slow to get to his feet, and Annis waits for him to rise, grasping that steel chair high above his head.] TD: Charles Scheffield! It's Charles Scheffield! SR: What the hell is that punk doing out here? [Scheffield darts to the ring and hops up onto the apron, and makes a mad grasp for the steel chair placed high above Annis' head. Annis goes to swing the chair, unaware of Charles' presence. When the chair doesn't swing, he spins around to see Scheffield. A look of incredible anger smears the face of Annis as he drops the chair and grabs Scheffield by the neck, screaming at him.] TD: Charles Scheffield got the upset win over Annis a few weeks back and some would say it really hurt Serge's momentum, and no one believes that more than Serge Annis himself! [As Serge grabs a firm hold of Scheffield's neck, Charles can be heard saying the words "Wrestle Clean", which make Annis' eyes explode with anger. Mad Dog Watkins is up to his feet now and notices that Annis has his back turned. Watkins lifts up the steel chair and waffles it across Serge's back. Annis lets go of Charles, whom falls down to the floor. Watkins drops the chair, and immediately kicks Annis in the gut doubling him over. Watkins places Annis in line for a powerbomb.] SR: Damn that Charles Scheffield! He just ruined a great match! I want my chair shot! TD: But you saw Watkins hit Annis with the chair! SR: Oh yeah.... [As Annis is amazingly lifted up into the powerbomb, Watkins instead falls backwards, dropping Serge not only face first to the mat, but face first into the steel chair that is in the ring. The crowd jeers as Annis' skull smashes into the steel. Watkins kicks the chair out of the ring, and shakes the ref to wake him up. Mad Dog pounces on Annis' limp body and hooks the leg. One... two... three. -DING DING DING-] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the match, Mad Dog Watkins! [The ref holds up Mad Dog's hand, as Annis slowly begins to stir, and Scheffield makes his way back up the aisle. "Natural Born Killers" plays again as Mad Dog thrusts his arms up in victory. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: Well, Serge Annis' challenge has ended in defeat here tonight, folks, and we are really behind schedule now. Let's get back up to the ring for our next huge... wait a minute... look out on the floor! [The camera cuts back to the ring, where Serge Annis is awake, and is on the floor standing. His eyes look deranged. He is very irate, and he begins shouting obscenities to the crowd, and in the direction of Scheffield and Watkins. Annis cups his head in his hands as he tries to collect himself, but cannot. Serge makes his way backstage, but stops in front of Nick "The Schooner" McGill, who is still sitting at ringside. McGill has a big grin on his face, and pats Serge on the back and says...] NM: Better luck next time, Sergey. You may as well go back to UWF. SR: Oh man... that is not a good thing to say to Annis, angry or not. TD: Both these men have competed in UWF, and I am unaware of any rivalry between the two. But I do... OH NO! LOOK OUT! [Annis grins at McGill and suddenly lunges out his arms and wraps his hands around McGill's neck. Fans around ringside scream as Annis begins to hammer away on McGill. and eventually grabbing him by his shirt, lifting it over his head and sucker punching him repeatedly. Annis grabs McGill and yanks him over the retaining barrier. A demented look spreads across his face as he throws McGill into the ring.] TD: Serge Annis has snapped, ladies and gentlemen. [Annis rolls in and immediately stomps on the disorientated Maritimer. Annis lifts up the much smaller man, whom is still tangled in his own shirt, and drives him to the mat with a vicious DDT Joey Patrick rolls back into the ring, and tries to pull Annis off of McGill, but Annis screams at the official and shoves him down. Annis lifts McGill up again and wraps his paw around his neck again, and lifts him up into the air for an Epitomizer chokeslam! The crowd jeers as McGill's skull crashes to the mat. McGill's body jerks slightly from the trauma to his neck and back. Annis picks McGill up again, and lets out a primal scream as he grabs McGill's neck again... again he hoists him up... and again he brings him crashing down to the canvas!] TD: Two Epitomizer chokeslams, Steve Roberts! This is carnage! SR: And Annis isn't done yet, Dross! Here comes another one! [Annis yet again picks McGill up, this time barely letting go of his throat in the first place, dragging the unfortunate Maritimer up to his feet again, his eyes clearly rolling back in his head, and hoists him up in the air a third time... and a third time, brings him crashing down to the canvas with a vicious chokeslam! Huge heel pop! Annis stands over the fallen McGill for a few moments, his chest heaving from his rage.] TD: Thank goodness, Steve Roberts. Serge Annis is rolling out of the ring. We need some medical help out here for McGill. SR: Aw, no, Dross -- don't speak too soon. Annis is trying to dislodge those crowd barriers! TD: Oh, this is ridiculous! Look at Annis, tearing away at those barriers! These fans are beside themselves! [Annis does indeed rattle the barriers as fiercely as he is able, trying to dislodge a section, and sending the front row fans scattering for fear of their own safety. At last, Annis manages to grab an eight-foot section of barrier, and hoists it above his head... before throwing it over the top rope, into the ring! The barrier crashes down on top of the still motionless McGill! Huge pop!] TD: Oh my! This is awful! We need help out here! Where the hell is security?! SR: Probably singing along to the Soundbite's album down in the Karaoke bars, baby dolls. TD: Annis now, climbing back to the apron -- and up onto the top turnbuckle! [The fans continue to jeer as Annis stands on top of the turnbuckles. He raises his arms, his face a macabre picture of drying blood streaked with sweat, flashguns illuminating him as he stands, poised... and then he launches himself, crashing down onto the crowd barrier with a frog splash!] TD: Oh my! Serge Annis weighs close to three hundred pounds, and he just peformed a frog splash onto that barrier -- with poor Nick McGill underneath it! This is terrible! SR: Annis hurt himself, Dross! Look at him roll off that barrier, he's hurt -- but he's getting back to his feet! TD: McGill was just squashed... squashed like a bug! Heaven only knows what kind of injuries McGill has sustained here... is Annis finished yet? SR: Not on your life, Dross man! He's pulling McGill out from under that barrier! [Indeed he is, Annis tossing the barrier aside and dragging McGill out. Again, Annis, limping slightly now from the impact with the barrier, wraps his huge hand around the throat of the now totally unconscious McGill, having to use his other arm to stop the dead weight from dropping back to the mat... and again, Annis hoisting McGill up... and again, Annis bringing McGill down with a brutal, brutal Epitomiser chokeslam _onto_ the crowd barrier in the ring! There is a horrible *CLANG* as McGill's head hits the steel with the force of a three hundred pound man driving him down into the barrier! Huge, huge heel pop!] TD: Oh... oh, this is bad. Here comes a medical team -- and at last, here comes security! This is outrageous! [Annis does not resist as security staff shepherd him out of the ring. He backs slowly away from the ring impassively, watching as the medical personnel gingerly brace McGill's neck and place him on a back board, before lifting him carefully onto a ringside gurney. The medical team slowly begin to roll McGill up the aisle, as a hush falls over the crowd.] TD: I have a feeling that the career of Nick McGill may well be over before it has truly begun, Steve Roberts, thanks to the actions of that man, the despicable actions of Serge Annis. SR: Aw, my heart bleeds, Dross. Like we need another damned Canadian around here anyway. TD: Nick McGill may have suffered serious internal injuries -- broken bones -- he is certainly completely unconscious... and as Serge Annis stands in the aisle, surrounded by security personnel, there is no emotion on his face... he has no remorse for his actions. What a disgusting... well, I'm loath to say "human being". [Suddenly, there is a huge heel pop as Annis makes a break through the human wall of security personnel in front of him and careens down the aisle towards the medical personnel!] TD: Oh no! Stop that man! Stop that man! SR: Whoo-hoo! He ain't done yet! [Annis knocks over one paramedic with a kick to the groin, and fells another with a hard right hand, sending the other four members of the stretcher team scattering. Annis lets out another scream as he topples the stretcher, knocking it over. McGill is still strapped on, and his head lolls dangerously as he hangs from the stretcher... and Annis pounds away at him with kicks, kicks to the head, kicks to the torso!] TD: Come on, security! Stop that man! He's insane! [Security again descends on Annis, but the damage is done. Serge Annis is hauled away, kicking and screaming, to the locker room, while the paramedics pick themselves up and right the stretcher, rolling it back towards the locker room. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: I cannot believe what we have just seen, Steve Roberts. Serge Annis has gone completely over the edge -- he has half-killed Nick McGill here tonight, and undoubtedly ended his IIWF career before it even began. What kind of punitive measures can the IIWF take that could possibly address the full extent of this disgusting attack? SR: How about a pat on the back, Dross? More power to Annis! Wrestle Clean? You have _got_ to be kidding! TD: I am simply speechless at what we have seen, folks. But we must move on -- and we move on to what is a sombre occasion for us all.  Originally planned as a retirement match, loser leaves the sport, last Friday Subway Psycho stunned us all by announcing he will retire regardless of the match. Yes, folks, this is the last time you will see the Subway Psycho in the squared circle. SR: Wants to feel how it's like to be pinned one last time. TD: No Steve, it's more than that.  Subway still has a goal.  I believe     that he plans to rid the IIWF of the menace that is Tony Starks.  SR: As much as I justifyably hate the sewer rat, you gotta admire a     wrestler who wants to take as many men with him as possible as he     sinks down the drain. TD: Quiet, Steve, here's Sparky. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| RETIREMENT MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Tony Starks vs. Subway Psycho ....................................................................... WRITER: Gregg Osterhout [Sparkplug takes his usual position centre stage. He fishes in his pocket, withdrawing an official tube of Subway Psycho eyeblack. He applies the makeup, tossing the tube to a cheering audience.] TD: Both these men are charter members of the IIWF, coming to us from the IHIW, a half hearted organisation that in spite of itself gave us superstars such as: the Subway Psycho, Tony Starks, Billy Shakespeare, Deathbringer, Flare, Jack Haley, Brad "Bodybag" Kinder, the Masked Outlaw, The Atomic Destroyers, and the High Plains Drifters. RA: Introducing first, from Staten Island, New York... ["C.R.E.A.M." by the Wu-Tang Clan begins to play] RA: ...at six foot six, and weighing in at 269lbs, here is... Tony Starks! [The towering African-American, one of the most vicious men in the sport, enters, his black t-shirt, only partially covered by his towel, reads simply: "The Syndicate". He is unmindful of the fans who stretch over the railings to try and touch him. A faint grin crosses his face as he enters the ring] RA: His opponent...from the Subways of New York City.... [Sparkplug is drowned out by the cry of "Alll abooard!" followed by Ozzy Osbourne's maniacal laughter. The opening lick of "Crazy Train" explodes from the sound system] RA: ...six foot five, 255lbs... here is... the Subway Psycho! [The single headlight of an approaching subway train severs the darkness of the video wall. The train moves closer... but something is wrong... sparks kick up from its wheels and explode across the video screen. Suddenly the subway train careens out of control, striking the walls and flipping over. A cascade of sparks explode out into the arena, and through this electric waterfall strides the form of the unknown savior once dubbed by the media: Subway Psycho! The crowd explodes into frenzy.] TD: What is Subway carrying with him? It looks like some sort of...hot plate? SR: It is, Dross! It's the electric third rail plate... this match is going to be an electric third rail match. We haven't seen a third rail match since Otto Verhoeven became Otto Sauerbraten. TD: Wait, it looks like referee Chuck Sanders isn't allowing the rail into the ring. SR: Look at Starks! Look at Starks! He's waving his hands to "bring it on"! TD: Sanders is letting it in. But what is Starks doing now? SR: HE'S UNTYING THE CORNER PADS! The internet will be buzzing for a week over this match! [Psycho tosses the electric plate in the centre of the ring and stands stoically waiting for Starks to finish removing the pads. Technicians scury about, hooking up one half of the electric voltage and leaving the second electrode sitting in the corner. The two gladiators stare at each other, dark eyes meeting dark eyes. Slowly they circle, measuring each other inch by inch. Subway offers his hand in a test of strength, Starks takes it. Muscles strain, and slowly Tony Starks begins to buckle. Subway twists his hands, Starks drops to a knee, flipping Psycho over his back and down hard on the mat. Starks quickly displays his technical brilliance, grape-vining the arm and wrenching on it. Sanders asks for the submission, Subway gets his foot to the ropes, and Sanders forces the break.] TD: These men have known somewhat different careers in the Double-Eye. Subway is a one-time Heavyweight belt holder. He what seemed to be a never-ending feud with Brian Lau and the Syndicate. Perhaps it was just coincidence, but ever since the kidnapping and betrayal of his companion Mistress Sasha, he wasn't the same man. SR: Hey, whatever happened to Sasha? She had a heck of a pair of legs. Remember that mud-match she had against Nurse Heidi? TD: There was no mud during that match. SR: I know, it's just more fun to imagine it that way. [Starks throws Subway hard into the corner, the man from the underground coming hard against the exposed buckle. Starks immediately presses his advantage, but Subway keeps him from striking his head into the ringpost. Subway lifts Tony away, delivering a forward spinebuster. Starks hops away. The crowd explodes as Psycho climbs the ringpost... and walks the ropes! Starks spins, looking for his opponent, Subway suicide dives. Both wrestlers collapse in a heap. Starks tries for a quick roll up, but can't stop the kickout.] TD: Tony Starks has had a somewhat more difficult career. Just as he was beginning a slow rise to stardom, a tragic plane crash took him out of action with a broken back. It was thought he would never wrestle again. That plane crash also took the life of promising youngster "The Machine" Hunter Robinson. SR: It should also be noted that Tony Starks forced Billy Shakespeare to submit in the "Spotlight"'s first ever match. TD: Surprisingly, Tony Starks has never worn a belt in the IIWF. SR: To Becky LaRue's chagrin. TD: Did Becky ever make good on that bet to Larry that she'd go out with him if Starks won a certain battle royal? SR: A bet's a bet. TD: But did she? SR: Of course not. [In the ring, neither wrestler seems to have the upper hand. Subway strikes hard with a double axe handle blow to the back of the head. Starks staggers, ducks a clothesline, steps under and hoists Subway with a full nelson suplexslam. The two hit the ring hard and the crowd begins a chant of "Sub-way...Sub-way". Despite the chant, Starks is first to move, sitting on Subway's back and twisting the knee in a submission position. Psycho cries out in pain.] SR: Show's over, Dross. Ended like we thought. TD: Cool your heels, Steve. It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings. SR: Your wife is here tonight? [Slowly, painfully, Subway reaches up and behind him, getting a hand under Starks chin and hauling back on it. Starks releases the hold. While Subway agonises, Starks goes for the terminal connector where it lies in the corner, hooking the clamp onto the electric plate. Subway seizes the advantage, delivering a series of knife edged chops to the neck. Starks recovers his wits, throwing his opponent to the ropes, felling him on the return with a running suplex. Subway bounces to his feet, throws himself to the ropes and back at Starks. Tony ducks and Subway rebounds on the return, catching the Staten Islander with a running clothesline that drops Starks dangerously near the electric plate. Starks nearly takes down Subway with a quick toe hold. Starks tries for an elbow drop and misses. Psycho heaves him over with a belly to back. Starks drives a shoulder into the midsection then a knee lift. Starks quickly manoeuvres for a standing abdominal stretch. Again in the agonising pain that only a technician like Tony Starks can inflict, Subway backs him hard into the corner, one, twice and again. Starks lets loose as a small cut opens on his shoulder. Subway snap mares him over, Starks is quick up with a snap suplex. Psycho lands near the plate, a spark momentarily jumping through space and striking him. The crowd gasps at the sound and smell of ozone.] SR: A foot more to the left next time, Starks. Have I got to do everything myself around here? TD: With the exception of work, apparently. SR: They pay me for my good looks, Timmy. [The men circle each other once again. Starks strikes for the arm, but Subway flips him over with a surprise flying headscissor takedown. Psycho is too the turnbuckle.] TD: It's looking like time for the "De-Railer"! SR: Ain't gonna happen. [Steve's words prove prophetic as Starks, in an amazing burst of athleticism, bounds up to join Subway on the turnbuckle. The two men jockey for position, all the while teetering on the post. Finally, Starks gets a grasp of trademark grey tights, lifting the tunnel dweller high in the air. A thousand flash cameras provide for a strobed moment as Starks holds Subway high for a vertical suplex. The two crash down on the mat. Psycho comes down hard across the electric plate... but nothing happens. The terminal has become disconnected. Starks crawls over to his downed opponent, dropping an arm across his chest. Sanders drops to his knees... 1... 2... KICK OUT!] SR: Slow count, Dross! Slow count! Someone is paying off Chuck. I want names! Search the dressing rooms! Dross, you check out Kowalski's, I'll check on Miss Miki.... TD: Sit down, Steve. That was no slow count. That was just amazing athleticism and determination. SR: Perhaps I'd still better check on Miss Miki's dressing room? TD: From what I hear, you already did. SR: Moi? You jest. It was Marty Warnett in a Soundbite jacket. Honest. [Almost resigned to the impossible, Starks moves for the Fugiwara Armbar. Subway delivers a blow with the flat of his foot, rolling away and using the ropes to stand. Starks too gets to his feet, and the two warriors stare a moment of silent respect. Subway closes for the lockup, Starks fires out with a fist to the gut, then a roundhouse forearm to the back of the head. Starks with the Dragon Screw legwhip quickly into the step-over toe hold. Subway pounds the mat in frustration. The "Sub-Way!" chant begins anew and Starks uses it as incentive to winch on more pressure. Subways grasping arm grabs ahold of the terminal where it sat disconnected.] SR: Tony Starks is kneeling on the hotplate...and Subway Stinker has the electrode. Starks is about to look like Godzilla crashing through the high tension wires. [There is a scream from a woman in the front row as Psycho is moments away from hooking up the plate. This is enough to distract Starks, who sees the circuit on the verge of closing and drops the hold. Psycho locks on the clamp, but Starks has cleared the area.] SR: Damn. That was going to be the biggest explosion in Japan since Hiroshima. TD: Steve, you have the unfailing ability to turn a very unfortunate bit of world sorrow into something even worse. SR: I hire out for funerals. [Psycho catches Starks with a German suplex. There is a sickening thud and Starks. Subway climbs the turnbuckle setting up for the moonsault. Starks gets to his feet, hitting a dropkick to the back of Subway's knees. Starks covers... KICKOUT! Psycho unloads with a succession of fists to the midsection, tossing him into the corner. Attempted plash, and subway hits the metel turnbuckle. Starks hooks on the Katahe Jime, Psycho drops out of it! Starks takes a bulldog, Subway covers...NO! Psycho climbs the turnbuckle again, forward flipping legdrop... THE DERAILER... and a cover! 1... 2... STARKS LIFTS HIS SHOULDER!] TD: Great action like only two vets can provide. SR: Quite, Dross. I'm actually watching this one. [Psycho rises to his knees, Starks rolls out of the ring. Both men pant heavily, the ten count slowly rising. Subway points to the ring, and Starks makes his way through the ropes. Starks offers the test of strength, Subway takes it. Both men try for a toss, striking heads and knocking them both to the mat. Starks rolls over...and hooks on a judo hold.] TD: That's the same choke manoeuvre that Starks has been inflicting for the past month! SR: Chokehold-shmokehold. Every time a guy comes up with a good new finisher, you people keep wanting to outlaw it. TD: No. The front office made the declaration this morning. That hold is illegal! SR: Looks like Sanders didn't get the memo. He's allowing it! [In the ring, Starks is using his last ounce of strength to choke out Subway Psycho, who, despite the black makeup, is showing signs of turning blue. Chuck Sanders looks around quizzically, hoping someone will back up his judgement that this cannot be right. With a showing of strength that comes from either desperation or true psychosis, Subway rolls himself and Starks over...and onto the electric third rail. There is a pop and the lights in the arena short out. For one dramatic moment both grapplers can be seen through the darkness outlined in sparks, but that ends to leave total blackness. There is a scream and a woman's voice shouts out Subway's name. The emergency lights come back on to find the two wrestlers laid out in the centre of the ring. The professional that he is, Sanders begins the 10 count. The figure of a woman, familiar to most as Mistress Sasha sprints down the Aisle. She is intercepted by a small, scraggily man: Mench the Lawyer.] SR: Sasha and Mench. Who knew they were in town? [Sander's continues: ...4...5...6... Neither man appears ready to stir.] TD: I'm not sure, but I believe that a double countout would mean a double loss... [...7...8...9... ] TD: And if both men lose.... [...10!] TD: ...then both men must retire! Oh my! Fans, I'm shocked. We have just witnessed the last wrestling match in the IIWF for both Subway Psycho AND Tony Starks! [Starks rolls to one side, sitting up in the corner, surprised and confused. Med-tecs have the gurney out, and with Mistress Sasha at his side, they lift Subway Psycho onto it. Subway stirs, the whisper "no" escapes his lips. With great difficulty, Psycho crawls off the gurney and heads towards the ring. The fans are hush with excitement.] SR: This isn't done! Subway is going back for more! He won't stop until Starks has broken every one of his bones! TD: Shut up and watch. [Starks rises to meet his opponent once again. The two square off again, eye to eye. Subway reaches out his hand... and Starks clasps it. The two men embrace to the enthusiastic cry of the crowd. Mench lifts Sasha through the ropes, and she joins her man in the ring. Subway climbs the turnbuckle, the crowd a roar in his ears. Slowly, Sasha at his side, he heads back stage for the final time. In the ring, Starks, as stoic as always, slowly climbs through the ropes. He stops half way down the aisle, turns around to face the masses and thrusts his hands in the air. The appreciative crowd explodes, a chant of "To-ny...To-ny..." beginning and not ending 'til well after he leaves the arena floor.] TD: [Sniffing slightly] What we have seen right here is the ultimate in class and sportmanship. I know I speak for a lot of people when I say: Subway Psycho...Tony Starks...there have been good times, and some bad, but thanks for every one of the memories. You've left an indelible impact on this promotion forever. Steve, are you crying? SR: [Stiffling a tear] No... no. I just put too much tabasco on my fugu. [Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside, where Dross shakes his head in disbelief.] TD: What a night it's been here in Nagano, folks -- but we're not done yet. One more match to come... and it's tonight's main event! Shadoe Rage has simply torn through the IIWF in the past four weeks, and tonight marks the last night of his booking rights for the month of February. For his final match, he's chosen to face World Champion Steve "the Fury" Kowalski in non-title action, with the proviso that should he be victorious he will face the Champ again at Ring Wars V in three weeks -- with stipulations of his own choosing! This is going to be quite a match, folks, so let's get straight back up to the ring! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| NON-TITLE MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Steve "the Fury" Kowalski vs. "Savage" Shadoe Rage ....................................................................... WRITER: Shawn Kilpatrick [Sparkplug Lee climbs into the ring, and proceeds to sneeze several times in succession. Lee wipes his nose on the sleeve of his tuxedo, drawing embarrassed winces from the fans at ringside, and he is beginning to look very pale indeed as he pulls out the lineup card for the next match.] TD: Looks like that nasty Olympic flu bug may have gotten to Sparky as well, Steve. SR: Serves him right for staying out all night with those girls from the Albanian women's biathalon squad, Dross. Hell, I felt sick just watching 'em on TV -- every one of those ladies made Scott Rogers look like Steve Summer. And that ain't a pretty sight, baby dolls. SL: [sniffling] Ladies and gentlemen... the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is a non-title match, with one added stipulation. Should Shadoe Rage score a victory over IIWF Heavyweight Champion Steve Kowalski tonight, either by pinfall, submission, countout, or disqualification, he will win the right to face the IIWF Champion _again_ at Ring Wars V for the Heavyweight title, and may also name any stipulations he wishes for that match! [The Japanese fans respond to this statement with polite applause, as Lee clears his throat, fights off another sneeze, and continues.] SL: And so, introducing first, accompanied by his manager, Marissa Monet, he hails from Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada, and weighs in at 248 pounds, here is... "SAVAGE" SHADOE RAGE! [The eerie strains of "The Death March" echoes throughout the arena as the curtains in the entranceway part and Marissa Monet appears in the runway, strutting slinkily a few yards down the ramp towards the ring and then gesturing towards the entrance in anticipation of the appearance of Shadoe Rage. Monet stands there for long seconds, her expression of confidence slowly giving way to one of confused apprehension.] TD: Well, there's Marissa Monet, but what has happened to Shadoe Rage? SR: He better not have pulled out of this match, Dross, not after all the big talk Rage has been throwing at the Fury in the last couple of weeks. Rage has a chance to write his own ticket at Ring Wars here, and if he blows it, he's gonna be a laughingstock. TD: I hardly believe that Rage would just not show up for this... hold on a minute, I'm getting a report from backstage! Oh my goodness, they're... SR: Never mind, Dross! We can see what's going on right now! [Suddenly, Monet is forced to dive wildly for cover, nearly toppling off of the ramp in the process, and the crowd lets loose with an incredible pop as Shadoe Rage and IIWF Champion Steve Kowalski burst through the curtain, firing wild haymakers at each other! Rage and Kowalski are going at each other tooth and nail, making no attempt to block the others' punches as they go for broke, hammering away with rights and lefts as they brawl their way down the runway towards the ring!] TD: Oh my goodness! This match has already started backstage! Rage and Kowalski look like they're trying to kill each other! SR: I love it, Dross. Do away with all the tired, time-consuming traditions -- the introductions, the strut to the ring, the posedowns -- just let the animals loose and watch 'em fight! This is great! [Kowalski and Rage continue to trade punishing shots halfway down the aisle, with Monet following behind at a safe distance, until the two men lock up momentarily, and Kowalski manages to grab one of Rage's arms and whip him down the runway, sending him caroming into a steel guard rail! Pop! Rage bounces back from the impact and lands face-up on the runway, and Kowalski takes advantage of this by whipping off his IIWF World title belt and driving it hard into Rage's forehead as he lies on the ramp!] TD: Steve Kowalski is incensed, Steve Roberts! We still don't know what set off this backstage brawl, but the Fury is hot, and he is giving Rage no quarter out there, and they _still_ haven't reached the ring yet! SR: Kowalski's just plain tired of being harassed by Rage, and he's gonna be all over Rage tonight like Tommy Lee on Pam. And I'm willing to bet that a broken fingernail will be the least of Rage's problems, Dross. [As Rage rolls on the runway in pain, Kowalski lays the World belt down on the ramp and scoops up Rage, walking him over to where the belt is lying. Kowalski points to the belt and bellows at Rage "Take a good look at that belt, boy! This is as close as yer gonna get to it!" before he hoists Rage up and drills his head into the belt with a savagely-executed Tiger Driver! Big pop from the crowd!] TD: Rage has been busted open with that move, Steve Roberts! The bell hasn't even rung yet, and Shadoe Rage has been cut badly over the forehead! SR: Red means green, Dross! Call the neighbours and wake the kids, folks, we're gonna see a bloodbath here! That Priske guy must be salivating all over the studio right now! [Finally, Kowalski hauls up Rage and runs him down the aisle towards the ring, and the match appears as if it is finally about to get underway. But at the last moment, Rage digs his heels in and gets an arm around the Fury, and suddenly it is Steve Kowalski who is sent careening into one of the ring posts! Incredible pop as Kowalski crumples in a heap at the base of the post, and Rage collapses against the apron, wiping blood out of his eyes as he struggles to catch his breath!] TD: What a turnaround by Shadoe Rage! Kowalski went into that post at incredible speed, and he is not moving, but Rage is looking no better! SR: And the bell _still_ hasn't gone, Dross! We're getting two matches for the price of one here! [Finally, it is Shadoe Rage who slowly makes his way over to the downed IIWF champion, grabs him by the hair, and shoves him into the ring, and Rage rolls under the bottom rope as referee Earl Alfonso finally is able to signal for the bell to start the match -- Ding! Ding! Ding! Rage and Kowalski struggle to their feet and rush at one another once again, any strategy involved clearly giving way to reckless abandon, and it is Shadoe Rage who rocks the champion with a scything lariat that nearly takes Kowalski's head off! Big pop! Rage, gaining momentum now, wipes away more blood from his eyes and waits for Kowalski to rise, before bouncing off of the ropes and launching himself at the Fury with a flying double-axehandle strike that catches Kowalski flush in the back of the head, sending him sprawling across the canvas!] TD: Look at Shadoe Rage! He has seemingly shrugged off the effects of that pre-match brawl on the ramp, and he is taking the fight to the IIWF Champion! SR: Kowalski maybe got a little careless off the top, Dross. He knows this is a non-title match, and he probably couldn't give a damn who he's gonna fight at Ring Wars, but he doesn't want to give Rage too many openings, 'cause he can hurt you if you get sloppy. [Rage is beginning to hit his stride, and Monet cheers him on from ringside as he picks up Kowalski and sends him into the ropes. As Rage sets up for a clothesline, the Fury sees the move coming and ducks under Rage's outstretched arm! Pop! Kowalski hits the opposite ropes and hurtles back, hoping to catch Rage on the rebound, but the Canadian is ready, and scoops up the champ and plants him into the mat with a superb tilt-a-whirl piledriver! Rage quickly covers as Alfonso drops for the count -- 1 -- 2 -- Kowalski just kicks out!] TD: What an intense, concentrated attack by Rage, and he nearly got Kowalski there! SR: C'mon, Fury! You're not just making yourself look bad -- you're making _me_ look bad! Get up! [As Rage pulls Kowalski up to his feet again, there is a buzz from the crowd as "The Enigma" Takezo Musashi dashes down the aisle towards the ring! The Japanese star manages to slip down to ringside unnoticed by either Rage or Kowalski, and as Rage rocks the Fury with a succession of forearm shots, Musashi takes up a position underneath the ropes and waits.] TD: Takezo Musashi has appeared at ringside! What in the world can he be thinking of doing now? SR: That crazy Cambodian has got to be stopped, Dross. You can bet that this ain't good news for the Fury. [However, as Rage hits to ropes, hoping to deliver another double axehandle suicida to Kowalski, Musashi leaps up and grabs the top rope, causing Rage to tumble over the rope and crash to the floor outside! Pop! As Rage slowly gathers himself up, Musashi whirls and delivers a crushing spin kick to the side of Rage's head, sending the Canadian sprawling into a steel barrier, then he quickly vacates the ring area as Marissa Monet dashes over to Rage's side.] TD: Unbelievable! Rage seemed to have a firm grasp on this match, before Takezo Musashi intervened, and it looks like all the wind has been taken out of Rage's sails! SR: That little Burmese bastard looks like he wants to take on the whole world, Dross, and I'm not sure I like his odds. MacBean, the Fury, Turner, and now Rage... Musashi sure doesn't know much about winning friends and influencing people. [Alfonso begins to count out Rage, but the cut over his forehead has opened even wider, and a fresh flow of blood has started running down his face. Monet, realising the opportunity tat is slipping away, drags Rage to his feet and as Alfonso's count reaches eight, rolls the disoriented Haligonian under the ropes into the ring, where a refreshed Steve Kowalski is waiting. Kowalski is quick to grab Rage and pull him to his feet, sending him into the ropes, and on the rebound, the Fury presses Rage up and launches him across the ring, hotshotting him on the opposite rope! Big pop!] TD: Look at the power of the Fury! He sent Rage almost twelve feet across the ring with that move! SR: Just goes to show ya, Dross -- you can never count out the Fury. That's why he's wearing the gold, baby dolls. [Shadoe Rage lies on the mat, clutching at his throat, and Monet pounds the canvas on the outside as Steve Kowalski stalks him like a panther, then delivers a big flying elbow to Rage's neck that sends the Canadian bouncing across the canvas, wheezing! Pop! The Fury is on a roll now, and he pulls up the gasping Rage and sends him into the ropes again, but as Rage flies back on the rebound, he summons up his reserves and launches himself in the air in a desperate dive at the surprised Fury!] TD: High cross body! SR: NO! Kowalski's got him! [Incredibly, Kowalski catches Shadoe Rage in mid-air, and as Marissa Monet groans on the outside, the Fury converts the momentum into a huge fallaway slam, sending Rage crash-landing near the ropes! Rage does not move as Kowalski dashes over and goes for the pin.] TD: Alfonso covers... and Marissa Monet drags Shadoe Rage out of the ring! Look at Kowalski, he is absolutely furious! SR: He ought to be, Dross. He had Rage dead to rights there! [Kowalsi pounds the mat in frustration, eyes blazing, and quickly scrambles through the ropes in pursuit of Monet and Rage. Shadoe Rage is on his hands and knees by the ring, shaking his head, and as Kowalski approaches, Monet turns and squares off against him! The Fury begins jabbing a finger in Monet's direction, warning her to stay out of the way, but incredibly, the tall valet stands her ground, and beckons to the IIWF Champion to bring it on!] TD: What is Marissa Monet doing? She could get seriously hurt down there! SR: I kinda doubt it, Dross. Look at the size of her! Hey, I wonder if she's got any Albanian in her? [Kowalski balls his right hand into a fist, and begins to advance towards Monet, who cooly stays put, but before Kowalski can act, "The Enigma" Takezo Musashi appears around the corner, and lays out the IIWF Champion with the ring bell! Huge pop from the fans!] TD: Musashi just attacked the Fury with that bell! "The Enigma" has now attacked _both_ opponents in this match! What is he hoping to accomplish here? SR: Beats me, Dross, but I'd guess that the Laotian is trying to get into the Guinness Book Of Records as the victim of the biggest mass punking in history! He's pissing off the whole IIWF! [Kowalski crumples to his knees, holding the back of his head as Shadoe Rage finally pulls himself to his feet and wobbles over to the downed Fury, grabbing him by the trunks and hair and heaving him into the ring, then rolling back in himself to beat the ten count. The exhausted Rage sends the Fury into the ropes, and catches him on the rebound with a sloppily-executed but still effective powerslam that reverberates throughout the arena! Rage covers for the pin -- 1 -- 2 -- Kowalski drives a shoulder up! Pop!] TD: Both of these men have absorbed an incredible amount of punishment in this match, and they're still going strong! What a battle! [Rage pounds the mat, and looks over to Monet, who draws a finger across her throat, signalling to Rage to finish as quickly as possible. The Haligonian pulls Kowalski to his feet, and lashes out with his right arm, seizing Kowalski's face in a piercing clawhold!] TD: He's going for the Hammer Of God! It could be all over! SR: No! Kowalski just booted Rage in the jewels! He's singing soprano now, Dross! [Rage doubles over in intense agony as Earl Alfonso barks a warning at Kowalski, but the champ just brushes him off as he lines up Rage and lays into him with a vicious knee lift to the head that sends Rage cartwheeling into a corner! Pop!] TD: Kowalski just managed to escape that finisher with some... dubious offense, and he seems to be back in control of the match now! SR: I smell a Skullpump coming up, Dross. You can see that the Fury's starting to get chippy in there, he sure he wants this match over so he can go out and grab a can of whatever passes for Mooselips here in Nagano. [Indeed, as Rage slowly begins to pull himself up, Kowalski is upon him, and hooks the Canadian's arms, setting him up for the Skullpump! However, before the Fury can execute the move, Marissa Monet is on the apron, hurling abuse at the champion. Kowalski sees red, and begins to advance menacingly towards the tall valet, who is motioning to the champ to come on over! Alfonso quickly intervenes, and shoves Kowalski back before turning to Monet and warning her to get off of the apron. Meanwhile, behind the champion, Shadoe Rage has regained his footing, and sees the Fury with his back turned! Seizing the opportunity, Rage dashes to the ropes, and prepares to launch himself at the IIWF Champion with another high-flying attack, but as he hits the ropes, "The Enigma" Takezo Musashi appears under the apron again, and lashes out at Rage with a heavy metallic object, sending Rage collapsing to the mat, unconscious!] TD: Oh my goodness! Takezo Musashi just cold-cocked Shadoe Rage with the IIWF Heavyweight Title! Rage is out! This is chaos! SR: I don't get it, Dross! Whose side is he on, anyway? [Kowalski whirls at the commotion behind him, and sees the unconscious Rage lying in the middle of the ring, and then looks down and sees Musashi holding his title belt in his hands, grinning madly up at the champion! The Fury's blood boils at the sight of Musashi, and he strides over towards the ropes, hurling epithets at the Enigma. As Kowalski approaches, Musashi's grin widens, and he flings the belt at the Fury, who instinctively catches his prized title just as Marissa Monet, who has seen everything, smiles and drops back to the floor! Earl Alfonso turns back to the action, sees both the stunned Rage and Kowalski holding the title belt in his hands -- and calls for the bell! Ding! Ding! Ding!] SR: Aw, for cryin' out loud... TD: He's been disqualified! Steve Kowalski has been disqualified! SL: Ladies and gentlemen, [sniff] here is your winner as a result of a disqualification, and the recipient of an IIWF World Title match of his own stipulation at Ring Wars V, "SAVAGE" SHADOE RAGE! [Kowalski is absolutely livid, and he screams at Alfonso, trying to explain what happened, but Alfonso is not convinced by the Fury's expletive-filled argument, and he turns to Shadoe Rage, who has been helped to his feet by Monet, and raises his arm in victory! Rage and Monet waste no time with celebrations, but quickly vacate the ring, slowly making their way up the ramp to the exit, Rage still rubbing the back of his head as Monet helps to guide him out. Kowalski, meanwhile, is cursing a blue streak at Musashi on the outside, and he bolts towards the ropes to get to the Enigma on the outside, but before he can climb through, the crowd pops wildly as two men with painted faces suddenly charge into the ring on the opposite side, and begin laying into the Fury from behind before he can get out! SR: Who the hell is that? TD: What the... IT'S TEAM SYCHOSYS! Joe Petrow and Maurice McArthur are attacking Steve Kowalski! This is absolute chaos! [Petrow and McArthur, their faces painted with chaotic black and white Japanese designs similar to those worn by Musashi himself, pound away at Kowalski with reckless abandon, hammering at the back of the Fury's head with crushing lefts and rights! Takezo Musashi climbs into the ring, observes the chaos being wreaked on Kowalski by Team Sychosis for a few moments, then weighs in himself with a lightning-quick superkick that snaps the defenseless Fury's head back!] TD: Oh, this is terrible, Steve Roberts! The IIWF Champion is being brutalized in there! SR: You're damn right this is terrible, Dross! That's Steve [BLEEP]in' Kowalski in there! The Fury must not be punked, especialy by a couple of loons like Petrow and the Indonesian and a freakin' jobber! This is a tragedy! [As the three apparent allies continue to put the beatdown on Kowalski, the champion somehow finds an opening, and desperately seizes the arm of 4M, heaving the surprised JJS member arond and sending him crashing into Takezo Musashi, sending both wrestlers crashing through the ropes! Big pop! Petrow scrambles to take on Kowalski one-on-one, but he is met with a boot to the abdomen from the now-furious champion! The Fury quickly locks the arms of the doubled-over Petrow, and screaming with rage, heaves him high into the air!] TD: SKULLPUMP! SKULLPUMP! Where did Kowalski find the energy for that, after that gruelling match with Rage and the beating he took from Musashi and Team Sychosys? SR: He's called "The Fury" for a damned good reason, Dross! Don't piss him off, baby dolls! [McArthur scrambles to pull Petrow from the ring before Kowalski can inflict any further damage, and helps the disoriented Petrow to his feet on the outside. McArthur stops to look for Musashi, but the Enigma is already on his way up the ramp and out of the arena, his personal mission apparently accomplished. Petrow shakes the cobwebs from his head and calls out to Musashi, but the Japanese star either doesn't hear or doesn't pay attention as he passes through the curtain and out. Petrow just shakes his head and allows 4M to assist him as he wobbles up the runway towards the exit. In the ring, Kowalksi watches the three wrestlers exit, too tired now to shout after them, and he staggers across the ring to where his IIWF World Title belt still lies on the mat.] TD: What an incredible turn of events, Steve Roberts! Shadoe Rage will battle Steve Kowalksi for the IIWF World Title at Ring Wars V, and has the right to set the stipulations for that match, as a result of his controversial disqualification victory here tonight! We have also seen the first signs of a possible alliance between "The Enigma" Takezo Musashi and Team Sychosys, who united to attack the champion after the match, and we have also seen Musashi's attempts to plunge that match into utter chaos by attacking _both_ competitors during the bout! Musashi has certainly been a destabilising force in the IIWF as of late, and it appears that Team Sychosys intends to add to Musashi's efforts to throw the IIWF into disarray. SR: We also say one more thing, Dross. We saw Steve F'n Kowalski show why he's the toughest S.O.B. in the Double Eye. After the punishment he took tonight, to finish it off with a Skullpump just proves why he's the IIWF champ, baby dolls. Shadoe Rage better have taken note of that, 'cause if he thinks he had a hard time tonight, he ain't seen nothin' yet. TD: Indeed. As usual, we'll have the very latest updates on all the exciting action and controversy here tonight in Nagano, Japan on this Tuesday's "Inside The IIWF"! So, for my broadcast colleague Steve "Soundbite" Roberts, this is Tim Dross in Nagano, saying: sayonara, everybody! [Cut back to the ring, where Kowalski has collected the gleaming IIWF World Title belt from the canvas, and as the normally reserved Japanese crowd gives him a rousing cheer, the Fury raises the belt high over his head, his piercing eyes sparkling as brightly as the golden plates on the leather strap as a chant of "SKULL-PUMP! SKULL-PUMP! SKULL-PUMP!" resounds throughout the arena. The battered champion shows the belt to all four sides of the ring, the chant growing louder and louder as the Fury, bloodied but still unbowed, breaks out into a huge grin as the scene fades to black.] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= I * I * W * F =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+ | President: Daniel Spreadbury | Vice-President: Gregg Osterhout | | univ0322@sable.ox.ac.uk | ghost@frii.com | | iiwf@sisko.demon.co.uk | | +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- http://www.sisko.demon.co.uk -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+