________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| |\ /| /\ |\ | | /\ \ / | || | \ v v / | __| | v |/ \| \| __| /__\ \/ |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| | |\ /| |/ |/ \/ | | \/ | |\_// /\ |\ /| | _ | / __ / __ | v | | | / \ . |\ | / \ / \ | | | | \__ | | \| | __ \__ 2 March 1998 | | | | \ | | | \__| \ .....................|..v_____/.|.|..|____|____/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Steve "the Fury" Kowalski ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [He walks out of the shower, hunched over and swollen. The spittle of blood still seeps from his spilt lip. Coughing, Steve Kowalski lurches over to the nearby bench. A towel around his waist and one on his shoulders, he is covered with welts and cuts. He pulls over a bucket of ice with his foot. After dropping some ice in a bag, he presses it against his neck.] SK: Jeez. Can I get some whiskey in here!?! [In seconds a young man in sweats and an IIWF T-shirt jogs in and drops off a bottle of dark liquid and a rolled up paper of some sort... Waiting a second, Kowalski waves him off and grabs the bottle for a hardy swig.] SK: [Gulping] Ahhh. The only pain killer fer me. What's this? [Unrolling what appears to be a poster, Kowalski eyes the next IIWF Saturday Night, stopping when he comes to the main event... IIWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: Steve "the Fury" Kowalski vs. Serge Annis Kowalski sighs heavily and drops the poster, once again applying the ice.] SK: Six days to heal... Six days. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Savage" Shadoe Rage ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Fade in: Shadoe Rage stumbles into the interview stage, holding ice to his head. He sways unsteadily on his feet. Marissa ducks under his arm, steadying him and keeping him upright.] SR: And the vultures are all gathered around trying to strip the flesh from the carcass, aren't they? The run of the Rage has ended. All the little scavengers, Mushashi, Team Sychosys. They all think they've been able to simply run in and stop me from obtaining my destiny. But Petrow, Mushashi, Kowalski... I'm here. Dammit. I'm here! And I'm the one running this all. I'm the man who will stand up and break through. I am the man who will bring the Age of the Rage shining through on the IIWF and I promise you... my era will be the greatest era in the history of the IIWF. There will be chaos. There will be blood. There will be carnage. And there will be... _DEATH_ in DARKNESS!!! [Fade out] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Serge Annis ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The camera cuts to backstage of the Nagano arena, where Serge Annis is being escorted back to his dressing room, by IIWF officials and suits. Annis isn't putting up much of a fight and he has a very cold look on his face. Poutine Janois now heads up to Annis.] PJ: What the Hell was that Serge? You nearly killed that poor boy! Dammit, Serge, you can't keep doing this! [Serge stares straight through Janois, and then spits down at his feet.] SA: Wrestle Clean? I don't think so... You thought tonight was bad? What till you see what I have in store for Kowalski. [Annis continues walking back to the dressing rooms, with the officials excorting him still. Janois just stands with his hands on his hips, baffled. Fade to black.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Mad Dog Watkins ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The scene opens up on a darkened IIWF "Monday Musings" backdrop. An eerie greyish-green glow can be seen from lights off camera. A massive figure sits on a what appears to be a folding chair. Out of the darkness, a low gravely and oh-too-familiar voice can be heard...] MDW: Hot damn, Annis...hot damn. Looks like we are all even up now, huh? Except for the fact that you've never put my shoulders to the mat. Hehehehe... I hear Spreadbury and Osterhout are already champing at the bit for the rematch. Makes for good television and good television makes for good money. We've seen a countout, a burn-out and now a good old-fashioned punk out. What are we gonna do to top it? I guess everyone will have to wait and see...wait and see the promised chaos that this Ol' Dog will bring. But right now, I've got more pressing and _IMPORTANT_ matters to deal with. Kowalski -- me and you son...tommorrow night in Toronto. By the time this hits the air, one of us will be champ and one will be chump. Last time I looked into the mirror, I saw nothing but greatness. How about you? You ready to go to the dance one more time? I know I am... [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Enigma" Takezo Musashi ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: The "Enigma" Takezo Musashi steps out into the generic IIWF interview area, mere moments after the closing scenes of chaos on Saturday night. Musashi's red pentacle paint is smudged, sweat drips from his brow, and the blood of numerous wrestlers is splattered all over his pants... but despite the apparent dissary, beneath his now familiar wild and angry stare, the Enigma actually appears enthused.] TM: Ever wider the chasm shudders and opens beneath the foundations of the IIWF... Ever greater becomes the danger for those who stumble upon its crumbling edges... Ever more numerous are those who trembling topple over and into its cavernous depths. Tonight I took my reckless daring and drove it like a pick axe through the centre of the IIWF. The ground quakes with impending doom. Tribulation has come. Ike Sampson... you became the latest example of my cause. Under my new regime of terror and anarchy, there is no place for false images or illusions of law and order. Your own weakness and hypocrisy sealed your fate in my eyes... the eyes of a man hell bent on venting his hurricane of fury on the very fabric of existence. All the cowering, weak fools who tremble before the tidal wave of violence that is the Enigma are already pronouncing my end... but it is only their fear disguised in a false hope. "He has made too many enemies" they say, though they should know that since birth I have been the enemy of the entire world. "He has angered too many powerful men" they say, but they choose to forget that the Enigma has always thrived when he has an army to cut a bloody swathe through... and power comes only from the depths of fear you are capable of inspiring. How much fear did I inspire tonight? But there is also a whispering coming from underground... a swelling cloud of anger and discontent; shadows united in the voice of the Enigma. There are some in the IIWF who understand the bloody joy in chaos; there are some who's darkened hearts are not so unlike my own. Yes... I have my allies too, but for now, their faces remain hidden. Joe Petrow... I salute you as a brother in war; a spirit unbound and free from the petty rules and conventions of the weaklings surrounding us; a man who knows well how to revel in chaos. Perhaps for a time, as we did tonight, we shall serve our common purposes well. Christopher Stonebreaker, well done, my friend. When you lashed out at me tonight, you were fully in the embrace of your konton na tamashii. Anger and madness flowed like red mist in your brain. Indeed, you shall make a worthy disciple. Icehawk... I know exactly what is on your mind right now. You still want to exact your revenge upon me, but your rash desire will be your undoing. You sent your friends after me, and they couldn't get the job done... not nearly enough. Rage still clouds your mind, and it deludes you into believing that you just might be able to hold your shattered spine togethor and get back into the ring... back into the ring with me. [Musashi shakes his head slowly]. I warn you once again, as I did before I broke your neck, of this folly. The damage I inflicted upon you before can be inflicted again and again... easilly and at will. Believe me when I tell you, Icehawk, it hurts much worse the second time. And Steve Kowalski, you have merely experienced the first tentative touch of your personal journey into hell... the hell that exists inside the tortured confines of the man standing before you right now, and only now is enveloping the entire world. My victory is not complete until I bear the King's trophy, and for now, you sit upon the throne. Your reign has been glorious, perhaps, but unfortunately for you, it can be only a brief one. A usurper lies in wait, and the time is almost ripe for him to strike... [Musashi fixes the burning intensity of his gaze on the camera, as the picture fades out.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Rocket Man" Timothy N. Turner ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Timothy N. Turner walks into the interview area, looking a little disheveled and upset.] TNT: Why? Did you forget the bond, Andrew? Did you forget that we were family? Did you forget what that means? These kinds of bonds are important to me. You've seen how I went after Simon Lebec in defense of Duncan. You've seen how I bring my brother Tom and Akira out to the matches whenever possible. These ties are important to me. If you think I was upset about Derek Mota turning his back...you haven't seen nothing yet! [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Andrew Macbeth ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Andrew Macbeth steps into the IIWF interview area.] AM: Cor, I've nae been booed like tha' in Japan since I spent two years wrestlin' as "Super Masked Tiger". Tsk, tsk. So. Timothy N. Turner. I nae ever ken that th' "N" stood fer "Nancy-boy", ya bleedin' ponce. I canna believe wot's become of ye... I came t' yer little party, ye remember that night, an' there ye were, sittin' in yer easy chair wit'yer gut hangin' outta yer monogrammed terrycloth robe, an' yer Shirley Temple with the l'il umbrella stickin' out of it... sweet Jaysis, it made me wanna retch. So I came inta this fed t' do the only decent thing ta do, an' that's t' take that silver spoon outta yer mouth anna CRAM IT WHERE TH' SUN DON' SHINE, YE PATHETIC WUSS!!! [Andrew pounds his fists on the interview table as he uncharacteristically boils over, then regains his composure.] Cor, mate, then again, the last few weeks I've been here havin' a wee bit o' fun as "Th' Masked Terror", ye seem t' be gettin' back to yer auld self, aye. I had planned t' stomp a right good mudhole in ye t'night, but instead, I saved yer hide later on. I'll give ye one chance t' pruive yerself, laddie. Ye have t' go inta tha' ring and face th' one man I can trust to give ye th' fight of yer life, an' that's ME. Ye step in there an' fight like a man, an' nae some sissy Ovaltine-drinkin' reject, an' maybe ye can gain a wee bit o' respect fer yerself. Otherwise, ye damn well best stay away from th' Clan Macbeth, or I guarantee ye'll be seein' nothin' but stars an' lightnin' bolts, aye. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Duncan Macbeth ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: It is approximately 7:30 PM the day after IIWF Saturday Night, and the Asian International Departures terminal at Narita International Airport in Japan is abuzz with activity, which is business as usual except for a large throng of media personnel who are following a large, ginger-haired Caucasian man across the expanse of the terminal floor as he weaves his way through the crowd on his way to the security gate.  As the camera moves closer, we recognise the tall man as none other than IIWF Intercontinental Champion Duncan Macbeth, and he is in as foul a mood as we have ever seen.  Macbeth strides purposefully with a brisk, loping gait, his thoughts obviously on other things than the horde of reporters.  The young Highlander makes no attempt to shake the reporters, but he's not making it easy for them either, as they bombard the Scot with questions while scrambling to keep up with the champion.] REPORTER: Duncan!  Steven Morrissey, Pro Wrestling Illustrated!  What are your comments concerning the appearance of your cousin Andrew in Nagano yesterday? DM: I have absolutely no idea wha' Andrew was doin' there las' nigh', or why.  I haven't seen th' man since 'e pulled me arse out o' th' fire against Team Sychosys.  At th' moment, I dinnae ken if 'e's been signed t' th' IIWF or no'. SM: Do you have an explanation as to why your cousin aided Ryan Howard against your... DM: [glaring] DON'T say it... SM: Um, your _colleague_, Timothy N. Turner?  DM: I haven't th' foggiest.  But me cousin doesn't go a man without a good reason.  I have no further comment on th' situation. REPORTER: Mr. Macbeth, this is Andy Roarke, Toronto Star!  Will your cousin's presence in the IIWF lead to you and he reforming as the Black Watch, the former world tag team champions, and will you go for the IIWF tag titles? DM: I cannae say.  As I said, I dinnae ken if Andrew's even under contract, but if 'e is, 'e's got a fair bit o' explainin' t' do. Especially t' Tim, wha'.  An' I'm busy enough as it is as IIWF Intercontinental Champion t' e'en consider tain' a run at another belt at th' moment. AR: If the Black Watch does reform, where will that leave your partnership with Turner? DM: [pauses] I have no comment on tha' at this time. REPORTER: Duncan!  Johnathan Marr from the Daily Mail here!  What are your comments on Ike Sampson's statements last night, accusing you of shirking your responsibilities as Intercontinental Champion? DM: Ike Sampson?  Is 'e still with th' promotion? [The throng of reporters laughs at Macbeth's barb, but the Scot's face quickly turns serious.] DM: Sampson's pretty much been a failure in th' IIWF, sae I suppose brown-nosin' up t' th' Vice-President is 'is last desperate attempt t' further 'is miserable career.  I mean, Jaysis, if Osterhout e'er came t' a sudden stop, they'd 'ave t' call th' paramedics t' pull Sampson's hied out o' 'is arse!  Me answer is tha' I dinnae really pay much attention t' Ike's whingin', 'cause I ken tha' he'll quite probably never have t' deal wi' th' pressures o'  defendin' a title in th' IIWF. JM: Champ, in the last month, no fewer than nine IIWF superstars have interfered in your matches, and attacked you both physically and verbally.  Why do you suppose you're attracting so much attention? DM: Tha's an easy one.  'Cause I'm th' IIWF Intercontinental Champion. 'Cause th' whole IIWF kens WHY I'm th' IIWF Intercontinental Champion. An' 'cause th' whole IIWF kens tha' I'm goin' t' be th' IIWF Intercontinental Champion fer a lang, lang time. Th' sneak attacks, th' interference, it's all happenin' 'cause all those tossers ken tha' one-on-one, they're no' goin' t' beat me.  No one's goin' after Musashi or Kowalski th' way they're goin' after me.  They're goin' t' have t' damn near KILL me t' get this strap, 'cause as lang as I'm breathin', they don't have a hope in HELL against me! JM: Are you 100% right now, Duncan? Are you still feeling the effects of the concussion you sustained at the hands of Simon Lebec? DM: [pauses] No comment. REPORTER:  Mr. Macbeth, I'm Mike Joyce from the Sydney Herald!  Will you grant Simon Lebec's request to face you for the Intercontinental Title at Ring Wars V? DM: 'Tis me intention t' speak wi' President Spreadbury in Sydney this week on tha' very subject. MJ: Do you feel confident that you can successfully defend the title, given the fact that you ave sustained a serious head injury just nine days ago? DM: Listen t' me -- if I was in bleedin' TRACTION, I'd wheel meself t' Wembley t' get a piece o' tha' tosser.  Lebec made a huge mistake, attackin' me in tha' TV studio.  Th' time is goin' t' come when I collect on tha' debt, mark me. [Macbeth finally reaches his gate, and is about to pass through the security check when a booming vioce rises from the throng behind him.] VOICE: One more question, "champ". When th' hell are ye goin' t' stop livin' th' "Guid Life", an' start actin' like a Macbeth ag'in? [Duncan Macbeth stops in his tracks in recognition of the deep baritone, and slowly turns in disbelief to face the hulking, grim-faced form of his elder cousin Andrew, staring down at the younger Scot as the throng of reporters start in surprise, then immediately begin buzzing around the 6' 6" Andrew with questions.  The elder Macbeth, clad in a long gray Savile Row overcoat, just glares at the reporters wth a piercing gray-eyed gaze to rival his cousins, and the reporters get the message, quickly clamming up.  The two cousins stand face to face for long seconds, neither man saying a word, confusion and anger playing across Duncan's face while Andrew's is a Calvinistic picture of stone-faced judgement.  Finally, the silence is broken by an announcement over the Narita Airport P.A.] PA: Passenger Macbeth, Passenger Macbeth, please report to Gate 42. Passenger Macbeth, please report to Gate 42.  Ladies and gentlemen, this is the final boarding call for Qantas Airlines flight 022 non-stop service from Tokyo to Sydney, Australia.  This is the final boarding call for Qantas... AM: Ye're goin' t' be late.  Away wi' ye. I'll see ye Thursday, wha'. [With that, Andrew Macbeth turns and begins making his way across the floor of the terminal towards his own gate for his flight to Melbourne. The reporters watch him go, look back to Duncan, then the whole group of them take off in pursuit of the huge Scot.  The younger Macbeth stands alone at the security gat e for long moments, trying to digest the events that have just taken place, before he turns blankly and passes through the gate to catch his flight.  Fade.]  ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Down Boys ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The Down Boys once again flank Awesome T as he smirks at the camera in front of the generic IIWF backdrop. Silent, he walks backward, allowing the spotlight to be shone directly on the Down Boys. The IIWF World Tag Team Titles shine directly against the light from the camera. Adam Peterson looks directly into the camera, unsure of his words] AP: It's...well...hell, it's great to win these tag belts in Japan. It's kinda like a second home to us, and well, I'd...well...we'd like to say a few words to a few people that may not have supported us along the way. DO: To all those who said when we entered the IIWF that we were just a regional tag team that would never win the gold...these are for you. AP: To the Natural Predators, who could only give us a title shot after we beat the hell out of them...next time you win tag gold, which, I'm sure will be in another organisation, remember to offer title shots to your top contenders, and not just to pushovers. DO: To Daniel Spreadbury, who finally gave us our title shot after beating the hell out of the Predators...we didn't want to do it, but it seemed to be the only way to get your attention. Now that you have, however, and the Down Boys are your champions, be proud. Someone might pay attention to your tag division now. AP: To Richard "Moxy" Blue... [T snickers] ...possibly our only friend in the dressing room that stuck by us through thick and thin, we thank you very much, and remember, if you ever need any help, we're right by your side. AT: If we have the time. [The Down Boys look at T, then go back to their "acceptance speech"] DO: Lastly, we'd like to mention Steve Roberts, who constantly disrespects the IIWF tag division by making "homosexual" claims. Steven, first remember that either myself or Adam could beat you in your prime. AP: What's most ironic about Steve's homosexual claims is...well...did you ever wonder how the chant "Shoot, Soundbite, Shoot" got started? Let's just say it had to do with a small indy promoter in Missouri with his mouth wide open and the Soundbite's first push. DO: Unpleasant. AP: Time to go Danny...we got the week off...I think we'll hang around for a little while...visit a few former promotions, ya know? DO: Cool. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Natural Predators ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scene comes up in the Locker room. Bear's head is hung low as he sits in front of his locker. Grey Phoenix enters, and pokes him in the ribs] GP: You losing weight, Daniel? B: [confused] What? GP: Just never expected you to be piledriven by that weakling. B: Hey, I was trying to roll with it. Not as if he could have gotten me up any other way. Besides, your stuff wasn't great tonight. GP: Right. Sure. Blame it on me. B: [getting angry] I'm not blaming anyone...just those damn backstabbers took our titles tonight. [Kuyler walks in, shaking his head] KG: No they didn't. They earned them. Face it boys, tonight, they were better than you. Tonight, only. B: So what now, hmm? GP: Relax, Daniel. We've lost matches before, and will again. A belt is just a belt, a title just a title. Like you said, Kuy... KG: Hmm? GP: When the Lost Boyz... [Cut to clip of South Park, Cartman in Africa] CM: Excuse me, I am a Lost little Boy....can you help me...? [pause] Well screw you too! [cut back to the locker room] GP: ...claimed they were the best team in the world, you said "The Title doesn't make you the best....just makes you the best at the moment." KG: Oh...I remember. Was kind of hoping that sank in. GP: So, we'll be the best again. We've beaten the Down Boys before. KG: And you boys are going to get your rematch, that's a given. Meanwhile, Michael, about Musashi.... GP: He went after Sampson and got to Macbeth last week. Someone has to stop him. Otherwise, the Horsemen don't mean anything. KG: All right. As long as it wasn't just venting. Remember what Colin taught you, Mike...better your focus is, better the end result will be. B: So, boss, what's next? KG: Well, you boys have some time off. I suggest you use it to the fullest. You've got those special education boys wanting a matchup with you.... GP: Dragons deserved better. Speaking of which, Kuy, all those challenges...? KG: [laughs] Most of them withdrawn. Seems having a high rep isn't enough unless they get a new size 68 belt buckle to go with it. B: Pity...wouldn't have minded getting my hands on some of them. KG: Easy, Strongman. Soon enough. Meanwhile, get cleaned up, go home, see your families. You've had a busy run as the champs, and you deserve a little rest. [Kuyler leaves, and the camera fades out.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Team Sychosys ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The aftercard Sychopath get-together has become a mini-matsuri featuring lots of sake, ritual chants, and even a Kodo drummer, working his craft such that the atmosphere takes on a near religious fervor. Amidst the revelry stand "Sychosys" Joe Petrow and "Mr. Majestyk" Maurice McArthur, dressed as they were during their recent run-in on Steve Kowalski, face paint half-melted off their faces, as Petrow roars over the incessant din:] JP: Looks like we leave Japan on a little happier note this time! Fabulous Ones, once again I have to give credit to our opponents for one hell of a match. It's guys like you that make the tag-team action in the IIWF the hottest action in _wrestling_ today! And next week in Australia, the Funky Like a Monkey Tour kicks into high gear, when we face those poser wannabes The Machines in the IIWF's first ever Double Bullrope Match! Tell em Mac! 4M: MaSHEEENS! You know what yew gots hea? You gots the best going today, we be FUNKY LIKA MONKAY! Dubba boorope style if ya wheeel! Paulie, Simon, this is an eye for an eye! Violence fo' the sake of violence! We comin' in there, and we gonna rip off yor heads, and dance down yor tonsils! And then we gonna look over yor bodies and sayin "WHO BE BAD NOW!? WHO BE BAD NOW!?" JP: And Down Syndrome, don't you worry! Team Sychosys ain't going nowhere until we get another shot at the belts. Now I gotta hurry up here, because I got a job to do in Toronto. [Some of the nearby Sychopaths boo and jeer loudly!] JP: Hey! Urusai na! Don't look at me like that, ain't you ever heard that old saying, "If it ain't the IIWF, it's just make believe!" Just remember that! Anyway, tonight, the world also saw the combined forces of TS for the very first time! That's right, _get_ it right! It's not "Team Sychosys and Takezo Musashi" It's _TS_, and that's all there is to it! Bringing the IIWF to it's ultimate evolutionary state! Dignity and respect for the tags, and complete and utter chaos and hopelessness for the singles. And that destruction is near complete! Kowalski, you are tired man! That was the weakest Skullpump I ever felt. It couldn't keep _me_ down, and you _know_ it won't stop the Konton no Kamisama! Forget about Shadoe Rage big guy! The REAL...the ONLY IIWF World's Champion, is coming for that belt of yours! And when he's done, he will melt down the two belts, into the size of a small green fruit, squeeze so hard as to create a nuclear blast that wipes your very SOCIETY off the face of the earth! [Petrow walks very close to the camera, and speaks in a near growling whisper:] JP: And tag team wrestling will rule the world. [Fade out on Petrow's cold, hard stare.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Machines ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Simon O'Neal stands in front of Paul Wong in the IIWF interview area. Paul has Binky the Chainsaw slung over his shoulder.] SO: Well, wasn't that sweet? The Fabulous Ones and Team Sychosys shaking hands and acting like good pals. It was wonderful. It was a tender moment... PW: It just goes to show you... twice as much crap in one wrestling ring still smells as bad. SO: [turns around and faces Paul] I thought we agreed that cheap insults were still my area. [Paul shrugs apologetically. Simon turns back to face the camera.] SO: Anyway... this week, we get Team Sychosys in a Double-Bullrope match. And I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Well, it's just the Machines. They'll fight, they'll argue with each other, they'll be easy to walk all over." PW: That was before. Now, we're on the same page. And the chapter is titled, "Hurting Team Sychosys." [Simon turns and faces his partner again] SO: You're really getting into these metaphors, aren't you? [Paul nods and grins; Simon faces the camera again] Just goes to show you what happens when you're as nice as Paul was; the bottled-up anger comes out in strange ways. PW: But, just to give everyone a taste of the "Old Machines". [taps Simon on the shoulder] Who's going to win the World Series this year. SO: The Indians, of course. PW: [shaking his head] It's Colorado's year. SO: You're dreaming. Indians. PW: Rockies. SO: Indians. [Pauses] There... is everyone happy again? We're arguing. PW: Now...[he brings Binky over his shoulder] What do we do with this? I'm all for trying out my new power tools on this thing... [Simon shakes his head. He starts to speak, but instead grabs a pen and scribbles a note on a piece of paper. He hands the note to Paul. Paul looks at the paper... looks at Simon... and breaks out in a huge grin.] PW: You are very evil. SO: I know. Ain't it wonderful? [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Fabulous Ones ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The scene opens inside of a Tsuburaya Enterprises personal jet. Inside sit Ms. Miki with the Lovely Bertha behind Agito Nakajima and Sho Satsuma. Agito sets next to the window. The sun over Japan can been seen.] AN: Team Sychosys, bravo! You squeaked out the victory. You won round one, but there will be a time when we meet again, and I promise you it'll end differently. SS: Nothing like a victory, and a narrow one at that, but I'll give it to you, you sure can take punishment. Great Caesar's ghost, I put McArthur's head through a press table and he still managed to execute that damn Frankensteiner move. [Sho looks back towards Ms. Miki.] SS: I guess next time I'll put Petrow-san's head through the concrete floor. [Sho and Ms. Miki start laughing.] AN: Now onto the next exciting instalment of the IIWF tag team pinwheel. It looks like we get the privilege of wrestling the American Drag-ons again. [Sho makes a "woohoo" sound while spinning his finger in the air.] AN: Saturday night, you'll get a shot to even the score. We beat you once cleanly and we'll do it again. No outside interference, no questionable tactics, nothing but the "Wrestle Clean" stamp of approval. SS: Man, am I getting sick of this. AN: For two guys who talk about being something special in the tag team ranks, you sure as hell make a lot of excuses. You were jumped before our last match, then you were attacked by Team Sychosys. If I'm not mistaken, the Team Sychosys attack was after the match. You talk about fair matches and the best team winning, then you make excuses when you lose...I don't get it? [Agito looks out the window at the setting sun, with his hand on his chin and index finger on his lips.] SS: Hey, Down Children! How did you like our little salute to you? [Sho starts laughing as Agito looks back towards the camera.] AN: That reminds me. How about the referee and the blind eye. One would think that the Down Children have paid them off. They've never beat Sho-san and I straight up, a now the bakayaros pin the wrong man and get away with it. If the referees aren't paid, then Awesome T must be doing them some kind of behind the scenes favours... [Sho starts laughing.] AN: ...If I were the board of directors in the IIWF I would check into this situation. Something fishy is definitely going on here. As far as the Fabulous Ones are concerned the Natural Predators are still the world tag team champions. So, run around with your fake ass hairdos, and your lame ass poser music because your nothing. That's the final word on that. [Agito gets up out of his seat and walks to the back of the plane. The camera pans in on Ms. Miki.] MM: To wrap this thing up, I'd like to say a few words. The "True Icon" is Marty Warnett. [Ms. Miki and Bertha nod their heads agreement.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ American Dragons ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [We go backstage after the American Dragons/Night Patrol matchup. Joe Scalercio and Bob Ivey stand, arms crossed, jackets on] JS: Okay, for all those sitting at home, listen up. We've got five tag teams we're going to address in this short period of time allotted to us by the IIWF crew. BI: First, the Night Patrol. Texas lawmen...two men after my own heart. Guys, welcome back....but don't expect to ever beat us again. Y'all got lucky tonight... JS: Second, the Machines. I was looking at your little hit list...and you know what I noticed? You've got a lot of the IIWF's tag team roster on that list...but you know what? I didn't see our names on there. I didn't figure I would. If the Machines are anything, they are smart...smart enough to know now to mess around with the American Dragons. BI: Third, the Down Boys. I don't know how in the hell you two partners managed to beat the Natural Predators...but you know what I've been wondering? Who calls the shots over there? Peterson and Oliver? Or are they just lapdogs of that varmint Awesome T? Hey, T? If we decide to stick our noses in your business...we'll do just that. We're not afraid of you or your two idiot savants. JS: Fourth, Team Sychosys. Petrow and McArthur, I really hope you two are taking us seriously. We don't like it when people attack us. You see, I take honor seriously...and you two, while you've got the fans behind you... ...you've got no honor whatsoever for that stunt you pulled. And guess what? If you two have COURAGE...we'll see you two in the Congo...if you're up to it. BI: And last....AbFabs...I said this wasn't over. In Sydney this week, we're going to show you just why we're the future of the IIWF... strut and pose all you want. This time, there's going to be no sneak attacks...and we'll show you two the heat of the Dragon Fire. [Bob and Joe turn around, showing the Dragon logos on the back of their jackets to the camera] JS and BI: Any team, any time... [Fade out on the logos] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Deathbringer ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: The IIWF interview area. Deathbringer, still wearing his wet wrestling attire, is alone as he stands there in front of the camera, breathing heavily. After a while, the Dark Destroyer begins to speak in his low, growling voice] DB: Harlequins... You are beginning to make me somewhat angry... When I ordered you to give me back what is rightfully mine, I was not thinking about a bucket full of blood-colored water... I was thinking about the mask, and nothing but the mask... I just wonder who this new mortal guy is who has joined your ranks... but then again, I do not really care... Anyway, let me tell _you_, clown, that the next time, you step into my way, I will take you six feet under... no one, _NO ONE_ makes fun of death himself and _NO ONE_ offends me like you did... But all of this is of no interest right now... Tragedy, I want _YOU_ in that squared circle, and I want _YOU_ to take _MY_ mask with you. Stop hiding from me, let us end this war... You cannot escape, you cannot hide, and, Tragedy, you cannot survive. But whatever happens, it was your own choice... I never begged you to step into my path... but there you are... Now stand up straight, and die like a man, not like the coward that you are right now... You, Tragedy, are finished... and I would advise you to... PREPARE TO MEET YOUR MAKER... [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "The Intrepid" Ryan Howard ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Enter the IIWF interview area, now occupied by one "Intrepid" Ryan Howard. He stands in the center of the room, as if in deep contemplation, his head tilted downwards, the only hints of his eyes coming out in slits from the small area between his stylish Gucci shades and them. He is casually dressed as usual, sporting what would most likely be Armani or some older Versace. His hands and clasped as if in prayer, held out from his waist. As if awakening from a trance, he glances upward, his eyes still hidden.] RH: How did it feel, Turner? I know how it felt, because, of course, you've done it to me a great many times, causing me to lose. The long, jagged scar of another loss on your record.. it hurts, doesn't it? [He laughs, almost cruelly.] RH: Sometimes I think you're the only person on this Earth that I have absolutely no pity for.. who I could stand kicking aside, to watch die. Oh well. More importantly, I've grown backbone, now. You can't walk around the Double-Eye anymore without a friend watching your back, so I covered my tracks, and will continue to. There's something very big brewing in the underworld of the IIWF, and I can say that I am associated with it in one way. It will change the way this federation is run. The misfits could only stay parted from each other for so long, you see... but now... ...now they are aligning. [He cackles, his head tilting back with a roar of laughter.] RH: Their way. Our way. My way. _The_ way. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Real Deal" Luke Steele ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scene: a hallway in the Holiday Inn, downtown Florida. On the wall facing the camera is a piece of paper, scribbled upon which bears a scribbling of a crude IIWF logo. Obviously it's a weak attempt at making this shot look like the IIWF interview area, but nevertheless Luke Steele, the "Real Deal" of the IIWF, saunters into the shot. He's wearing a pair of loud Bermuda shorts, a completely unmatching Hawaiian shirt and pair of black Ray Ban sunglasses. He has a grin a mile wide.] LS: Well, looks like I went against the corporate suit's demands and broke a policy. Afterall, aren't these things only supposed to be filmed in the Interview Area? Well, the Flabulous Ones have broken the damn rules so often, I'll bet Spreadbury and Osterhout are getting "favours" from Miki. Enough about that, it seems I was quite noteworthy this weekend, even without being overseas and in attendance. Stonebreaker, you've got a problem with me? Tough. You and I are through, I got the three count over you and with your lame ass sledge. And Ike Sampson, what's this? You feel the need to target myself as part of your Wrestle Sober deal? And worse yet, mention myself with that fire-breathing ass Annis? You'll pay for that crack, Ikey. And since I've broken the rules once, I'll do it again and discuss the upcoming week. Or at least... give a hint. This Wednesday, Charlie Scheffield is going to get the same treatment he got last time he stepped into the ring with me, dumped straight on his head. But then Saturday... next Saturday... [Luke starts to smile, and begins to cackle the stereotypical mysterious cackle. Suddenly he stops and looks at the camera, deadpanning.] LS: Duncan, you'd better have a seat. Next Saturday is going to be hell for you. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Charles Scheffield ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The camera fades in once again on a solitary Charles Scheffield wearing his normal attire. This week it seems he has a bit more of a jovial expression than he has for the past several weeks due to the fact that even though he has had continued success... things have been troubling him. It seems as though he has set all of those things aside... and is going to concentrate upon the task at hand.] CS: I have a lot to say... so please... bear with me. Annis... I know you haven't learned your lesson. "Wrestle Clean" is more than just a phrase... it is how wrestling was meant to be. I can understand bending the rules to a certain extent... it happens all the time... but some things just should not be done. [Scheffield ponders what he has said for a bit before he continues.] I suppose Watkins' background is about as questionable as yours... but I don't suppose he ever attempted to burn a man to death. You may not have been aiming to do so at the time... but even before the "Wrestle Clean" campaign was started... I _vowed_ that I would be the man who would go out to keep wrestling matches from getting too extreme whenever I could... and whenever no one else would. It is far too often that men get seriously injured due to misbehaviour in the ring. [Scheffield still appears to be in quite a jovial mood compared to how he is normally.] Annis... at this point it is hard for me to say whether or not I should continue to be your prime antagonist. I'd say that Watkins is a bit of a handful in and of himself to you! [A bit of a grin forms upon Scheffield's countenance.] I know you know _exactly_ what it is I am talking about. I get the feeling that by now... you are possibly exquisitely steamed at the fact that I possibly was the cause of another loss. I get the feeling that even Watkins is beginning to seem less of a threat to your existence in the IIWF than myself. The simple solution would be to wrestle clean just like everyone is saying. I doubt you will go that route. Therefore... I suppose your only choice would be to take more direct measures against me. Well, I am always prepared for a battle. I have _never_ backed down from a challenge in my life. Annis... I find you more of an intriguing specimen than I find you to be a mortal enemy. You have lived your life in such a way that would cause many to run in terror at just the thought of what you have gone through. Me... I see you and I see a man who is controlled by the pleasure to inflict pain... that is such a simple emotion, Annis. I find that it doesn't take much to set you on the edge. I am looking at this now more as a mind game than anything else... and I am beginning to feel you came unprepared. You... a man noted for brutality... up against a man noted for his intelligence? It is impossible for a brutal man to win this war at any time. You are in _my_ world, Annis... it is up to you to find your way out. I am not the nice, kind man I appear to be... after I step in the ring. I love my job more than anything... I look to do my best at all times. I try to conduct myself as a very inoffensive way. You see that... and you see a rich fool... who can be taken out very easily. The problem is... you don't see the other side... that being the fact that I can handle myself. I am not a grown child living in a man's world. I _am_ a man... and I am not so insecure about it that I have to prove it by using brute force. Annis... I know by now you must be seething with the realisation that perhaps what I am saying cannot be denied... and if that is true... that is simply evidence of the hold I already have on you. [Scheffield relaxes a bit.] That is all I have to say about you. Interestingly enough... amidst all this I still have Luke Steele to contend with on Wednesday. Steele... you probably remember me from a few months ago as we faced each other before on Wednesday War Room in fact. I remember you telling me that you were not going to cut me any breaks because none were given to you when you were a newcomer here. Well, Steele... not many breaks have been given to me. I have had to fight for everything I have received. I was a heavy underdog against Deathbringer... yet I was victorious. I was an even bigger underdog against Annis... yet... I defeated him as well. Steele... I know you are great... but if you remember... last time I did give you a bit of a wrestling lesson before you finally caught me with that floating DDT of yours. Well... this time around... I'd say we're about even. If you've been paying any attention... the man of the hour is Charles Scheffield. I have worked hard to get where I am... and I don't intend to back down. I shall be more than just the man of the hour... as I intend to make a run for the real big time here. Steele... if you think that you shall be victorious this time around... I suggest you think again. I _flat out_ say this time that you have met your match. I normally don't make proclamations such as this... but I feel... without overconfidence of any kind... that you will not defeat me again. I shall do what it takes within the rules to come out victorious. Steele... be prepared for what Deathbringer and Annis have had to suffer thus far. And Annis... I'd suggest staying out of this one if I were you. I shall be prepared for any outside disturbance... especially from you. Carry on. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Derek Mota & Richard "Moxy" Blue ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The scene is a small dingy apartment with next to minimal lighting. It seems like any furniture that was once there has most likely been sold, and the dust in the air allows the little light from off camera to be clearly visible as a beam. It shines down at the feet of a chair, the one piece of furniture that the camera can see. In it, sits Derek Mota. He is dressed in black jeans, and though he is not unshaven, he is definitely unwashed, his long black hair starting to develop an almost dreadlock look. He stares at the floor, his lips open just enough to see his firmly gritted teeth.] KNOCK KNOCK. [Mota remains silent] KONCK KNOCK KNOCK. [Mota raises his head a few inches, his angry eyes scowling into space.] RMB: [the voice of Moxy Blue is heard off camera] Diiiiiirk! Lemmme in mon ami! DM: Get the hell off my property. RMB: [still off, in Cajun lisp] But we 'afta trayeen for ours upcomeeng tahg matcheeth! Opeen dith door raheet now! DM: There won't be any "upcoming tag matches". I'd rather starve than tag with you again. The bookers seem keen on letting _you_ stay in singles. So go, do...whatever the hell it is you do. RMB: But I thought up a name for the team and everything! Catch this... BLUE SKIES! DM: Like hell. Any tag team I'm in will be called Air Mota...I mean, I'm not gonna be in one though. Not with an annoying little punk like you anyway. [Sounds of Moxy trying to break the door down...sort of. Actually it's more of a succession of meagre thuds followed by loud whimpers.] DM: Don't make me call the cops. RMB: [screaming] NO! NOT JAIL AGAIN! [Mota looks to the door, and we can see the tips f his mouth quiver...it looks like he is trying to avoid laughing. He shakes his head and the frustration of whatever it is that could possibly be running through his mind can almost be visibly seen coursing through his body.] RMB: [confused and frightened] Dirk? Dirk? You okay in there? DM: [hands quivering in tension] Just [BLEEP] off, okay! RMB: I know what this is about... [Blue finally does the impossible and opens the door... by... gasp... turning the handle. He walks in, dressed in his sequined denim jacket and green jeans, as well as a multi-patterned dress shirt. He looks down at Mota, who doesn't look at him. Blue smirks.] RMB: You can't handle sharing the spotlight with someone who's better than hogging it then you. Everywhere I've ever gone, you've become forgotten. And the hurts. It _burns_ you inside. [Derek gets up, and puts his hands on the back of the chair as he turns around. He stares at Blue, and any indication of his thoughts are lost to mortal men. In lightning quick time, he lifts up the chair and cracks it over Blue's skull before he has time to back away. Blue falls in a heap, moaning.] DM: You want to play "I can top that?" So be it. I guess I'll hafta stop having you begging for mercy at my feet. You must find that repetitive. [Fade to black] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Eddy "Flap" Jacks ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Eddy Jacks plods into the IIWF interviewing area, stogie clasped between his teeth and attired in a "Lynrd Skynrd" t-shirt and plain black jeans. He shrugs his massive shoulders and grabs a microphone.] EJ: Ya all got a taste o' me in action this week. In dismantlin' that thing the IIWF calls the Masked Terror, I got somethin' I been denied fer oh_so_long: applause. [Jacks throws his cigar onto the ground.] In a sport filled with prima donnas and over-hyped wonders, it's nice ta see the fans still like guys that put on a good show. It ain't often I'm happy...hell, my back hurts twenty-four god_damn hours outta the day and my knees ain't exactly in the best o' shape. Still, it ain't often I get a pop like I got from that crowd on Wednesday.... Chalk up another victory fer the common man. I been sayin' since day one that I'm the man the people should appreciate, the man they should cheer fer when I'm handlin' another one o' these newfangled pieces o' garbage. [The camera zooms in on Jacks' careworn, impassive face.] That's another reason I'm here in the Double-Eye. I'm here fer every fan that said, 'We lost this sport.' I'm here ta help 'em take it back. I'm here to smash the gimmicks, ta bring down this fed's freaky wonders. I'm here ta put on a show an' go out with a bang. It's high time wrestlin' got recognized as a sport 'stead o' a bloody_goddamn_circus. [Pause.] The IIWF's future is_in_the_past. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Gregg Osterhout IIWF Vice-President ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [VP Osterhout sits behind a makeshift desk in the IIWF mobile command setup. A posable rubber "Ike Sampson wrestle-action" figure sits on the desk. He puts on his best "serious" face, then addresses the camera:] GO: I'm not sure what it is about the "Wrestle Clean!" campaign that makes it so difficult grasp. Such stunning athletes as Ike Sampson, Charles Scheffield and the American Dragons have embraced it, why can't the rest of you? On one side we have Christopher Stonebreaker and Luke Steele trading bucket shots. At the extreme, the walking dime store, Steve Manning who is hot in pursuit of making a mockery of the fed by drawing cheap heat and producing the silliest item ever brought into the ring. [The VP picks up a dictionary, opening it at random and pointing his finger at a random entry.] Emu. Hey Manning, no-one's ever brought an Emu into the ring. But between the poles of extreme and absurd lies Serge Annis. Serge, I'm talking to you. Nick McGill may not ever regain consciousness. Wrestling is out of the question. I just got off the phone with his wife. She's hysterical trying to figure out a way to provide food for Little Nick Jr. and the twins: Buster and Chloe. Annis, I hope you retire from this sport before little Nick gets a chance at revenge. For your actions last Saturday night, I am fining you last night's paycheck, which will be donated to the McGill Family Educational Fund. [He shakes his head at the travesty.] Which brings me to the second prong of the "Wrestle Clean!" campaign: the actions of "the Enigma" Takezo Mushashi. I've been receiving phone calls demanding action against his transgressions. But I kept asking myself, "What makes a man so unpredictable and volatile?" Last night I got my answer in the mail. [The VP holds up a video tape. the cover bearing the legend: "Amanda: Portrait of a Teenage PCP User," an ABC after-school special starring Melissa Gilbert and Danny Bonaducci.] I fear that the ugly spectre of drug use has risen its head in the Double Eye. But I have the cure: urine tests! [The VP reaches under his desk and pulls forth a specimen cup filled with a yellow-tinged liquid.] We're all in this together, and here's mine. Pure as a mountain stream. You could drink it if you felt so inclined. See how easy it is? We'll be administering test to you all these next few weeks to identify who needs help. We appreciate your co-operation, and please, "Wrestle Clean". It's not just an award-winning slogan, it's a good idea. [He slams down his hand for emphasis, knocking over the specimen cup and spreading its contents over table and speaker. The camera cuts away before the camera can hear the VP's expletive.] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+