________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| | || | \ v v / | __| |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| ______ ______ \ \ / / _______ \ \ __ /__ / | ____ \ _______ __ \____ \ | | /| | / __ _____ _____ | | \ \/_ _| \ | |/ ___\ \ | | _/ | | / / \ | __ \/ ____| | |___/ / | | | \| | /\__ \ | |/ \| |/ / /\ \ | |_> | /____ | ____ < | | | \ \ |/ /_ \ \ | / /\ \ | / ____ \| __ <\____ \ | | \ \_| |_| |\ |\___\ \ \| / \ |/ / \ \ | \ \____\ \ |_| |_|____/|_| \_|______/ |_/ \_|\/ \/_| |_|______/ \ / \ / \______/ T + H + E R + A + G + E A + N + D T + H + E F + U + R + Y ________________________________________________________________________ \ / \ Saturday 21 March 1998 / / Wembley Stadium, London, England \ /______________________________________________________________________\ H + O + U + R O + N + E [The opening graphics fade through to interior shots of the jam-packed Wembley Stadium, fans stretching into the distance across the floor of the stadium as far as the eye can see as many-coloured spotlights in the lighting rigging above the ring cast their bright beams over the clamouring masses. The shot pans past row upon row of fans, waving their home-made signs, and then pans upwards, showing the raised platform which houses the ringside enclosure, the huge lighting rig lighting up the area as if it were midday, not midnight. The midnight chimes of Big Ben are piped over the PA:] * BONG! BONG! BONG! * [Huge pop as a volley of fireworks rockets into the air in time with the striking of the famous bell in the Westminster clocktower in the heart of London. Sparks of many colours tumble down towards the fans below, vanishing just inches above their heads.] * BONG! BONG! BONG! * [Searchlights wildly probe the sky high above the stadium, catching the metallic hull of the IIWF's chartered helicopter, which now hovers overhead, trailing a large banner underneath, reading "IIWF Ring Wars 5", picked out by the spotlights from below. Big pop!] * BONG! BONG! BONG! * [Another volley of fireworks screams into the night sky, rockets flying in cascades into the deep purple high above, exploding with deafening report hundreds of feet above the floor of the packed stadium.] * BONG! BONG! BONG! * [The capacity crowd chants along with the final three chimes of the bell, and then erupt into nearly hysterical cheers as the voice of Tim Dross resounds around the arena:] TD: Welcome everybody to London, England! Welcome everybody to Wembley Stadium! Welcome everybody to Ring Wars 5... the Rage and the Fury! [Huge, huge pop as a large wire-frame pyro, which has been lowered from the lighting rigging above the ring as Dross speaks, explodes into bright white flame, picking out the form of the letters: "RW5"! The shot eventually pans down past the broadcast tables at ringside: the Spanish, the French, the Japanese, the Antiguan, all the various announcers jabbering away excitedly in their respective native tongues... and the shot finally comes to rest on the familiar duo of Tim Dross and "Soundbite" Steve Roberts at their own broadcast table. Both men are bedecked in tuxedos, but Dross' appearance still jars slightly on the eyes: his head is completely bald. Beside him, Roberts wears a ridiculously gaudy bow tie, a gold lapel pin shaped like a microphone adorned with the words "The Best"... and a large grin.] TD: Howdy, folks, and thanks for joining us here tonight on pay-per-view as only the number one wrestling organisation in the world can bring you! I'm Tim Dross, and beside me is my tag team partner and broadcast colleague, the hardest working man in the rasslin' business, the two and a half Grapple Award winning, "Black Jesus"... "Soundbite" Steve Roberts. SR: Thanks for the buildup, Dross, buddy. Whoo-hoo, am I ready for action tonight, brother. Somebody find me a nubile young President's daughter, a collection of silk scarves and a gallon of maple syrup -- let's eat! TD: Let's not, Steve Roberts, because that way we'd miss all the incredible action set to come our way over the next three hours! We are talking a Ring Wars like no other before it -- we are talking no fewer than twelve unique matches, featuring no fewer than forty different athletes, and every match with special stipulations! SR: Exploding rings, buckets, ladders, cages, scaffolds, freezers, mountains, penguins. Well, all except for the penguins, of course. Damn gluttons. TD: I cannot begin to describe the three hours of action we have for our fans tonight... three hours as only the IIWF can provide it. SR: Three hours of garbage matches. As close to a wet dream as a man can get and still be awake. TD: I think that we could use less graphic terms. SR: Graphic is what tonight is all about, Dross. Flesh and blood running head-first into steel and stone. TD: Maybe in some of the matches, but the rest is just muscle against muscle. Honour against honour. SR: Oh yeah. Some of that too. TD: It's the mighty IIWF in all it's glory coming at you from jolly old England. SR: I learned something here, Tim. TD: You actually got culturally broadened? SR: Indeed I did. I realised that it wrestling were cuisine, all the other feds would be English cooking: boring, flavourless and don't make any sense. Bubble and squeak? Toad in a hole? Blood pudding? What the heck is blood pudding? TD: Steve, I think... SR: I was in this restaurant. A pretty little nymph of an English bird slides up and asks me for my order. I ask if I can bang 'er...she brings me a sausage. What's with that? TD: Coming up in hour one... SR: Soundbite don't do that food stuff. Unless whipped cream is considered food. TD: Our lead off match will be a Four team tag team war. Yes, war, Steve. The reformed Machines, back together and nastier than ever, face the hardest working team in the biz in the American Dragons. The Am-Drags have brought in special help to train for this brawl. Also in the ring, returning legends Night Patrol. Two men who won a championship knocking heads in a match like this one. And lastly, the ever Annoying Fabulous Ones. It's not a matter of if, but when will they wear the belts. Thoughts, Steve? SR: Are these tag teams? TD: Yes. SR: Then I politely decline. TD: Another IIWF first: following that match will be the rough and tumble "King of the Mountain" Match. A progressive match where the remaining man takes on a fresh one until all wrestlers have appeared in the ring. SR: Here's where the fun begins. We've got mad-men like Steve Manning, "The Demon" Damien Lestat, and "Moxy" Blue. You got bad-asses like Eddy Jacks and Ryan Howard. And you've got some pansies for them to pound on in the figures of Charles Scheffield, and Ike Sampson. TD: You're predicting a winner? SR: The Smooth in an upset. TD: He's not wrestling. SR: Damn suits. I don't respect you, boookermen. TD: The action continues with "Rocket Man" Timothy Turner against Andrew Macbeth. SR: Wasn't A-Mac until recently called the "Masked Terror". Sheesh. The Ol' Double Eye is really scraping for talent these days. TD: This is the first time that many of the IIWF's international fans will get a chance to cheer some of their local talent. Both the Macbeth boys are in action, as is Welshman Marty Warnett. SR: Don't forget Musashi. Doesn't he come from an island around here? TD: After that we bring you a "Waterbucket" match. A steel bucket will be suspended from a pole at ringside and Luke Steele and Christopher Stonebreaker will battle for control of it. SR: This is the Soundbite's kind of match, even if it does have "About to Eat Steel" Luke Steele in it. I understand that Stonebreaker is at a bit of a disadvantage, having entertained the masses last night at the local pub by draining Guinness harp out of that same bucket. TD: I'm sure he wasn't doing that. SR: Page one of "The Sun," Timbo. Why would "The Sun" lie? TD: This brings us to hour two and Deathbringer battling Tragedy in a ladder match for 'Bringer's stolen mask. SR: And the winner of this match will be the fans once Deathboy covers his ugly mug. TD: But if he doesn't win, Deathbringer has to do Tragedy's bidding for a month. SR: "His bidding"? The man has Comedy and Melody just a whistle away and he wants 'Bringer? That's just wrong, Dross. Just wrong. TD: Following that comes Marty Warnett facing "To Excess' Rick Williams in a... SR: Don't tell me, a blancmange match? TD: No. A blindfold match in recognition of the damage Williams did to Billy Shakespeare's eyes. SR: Do they take the masks off after the match? TD: Yes. SR: Damn. TD: Then... SR: Y'know, Dross, after hearing talk of 'Bringer "doing bidding" and blindfolds, Poppa Soundbite is getting some serious "Pulp Fiction" visions... and I can say he don't like it. Not one little bit. TD: Then you'll love this next match. It ends only when one man has been slammed in a steel cooler. Will that man be Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines or Jimmy "the Meatman" Steele? SR: Dross, now I hates kids as much as the next man. But even the Soundbite gets a little ill thinking about what Jimmy Steele did to Gaines's wife. That little child could have grown up to be the daughter of a president. And Soundbite doesn't look too kindly on having his options limited. TD: To round out our second hour we have Serge Annis facing Mad Dog Watkins on a scaffold. This match should end their feud, and could a career or a life. SR: I wouldn't have it any other way. TD: Hour three brings us all the titles on the line. First up is the Cruiserweight championship between Takezo Musashi and Icehawk. SR: Walking chaos versus the walking wounded. In an act of total altruism, Steve Roberts will officially begin the Icehawk memorial fund. Here, I'll even make the first donation. How much, exactly, is "Tuppence," anyway? TD: The tag title will be on the line as The Down Boys, Team Sychosys and The Natural Predators will face off in a Seven Tables match. The team to smash the most tables takes the titles. SR: I want to go on record as having said there is nothing wrong with the tag division that a few tables couldn't cure. TD: I understand that there is some stunning commemorative artwork on them this time. And remember, if you like that artwork, it can be yours on an attractive set of glass coasters available through IIWF marketing. SR: What? Are you on commission here? TD: Some of us are. _Some_ of us don't get a featured part in Madonna's newest video. SR: Some men got it... other men have to rent it on video. TD: Following that, we'll go out to Larry Morton on location next to the Thames River where Duncan Macbeth and Simon Lebec got at it in a no holds barred bout on a barge. SR: What is with that river anyhow? They pronounce it "Tems". T-h-a-m-e-s don't spell "Tems" in my book. TD: What about the match? SR: It'll kick butt. Ropes, boat hooks, bells, harpoons. Someone's gonna flood. TD: When VP Osterhout started the "Wrestle Clean!" campaign, I never thought we'd see the next match. SR: Family entertainment as it should be. TD: I'm not sure how to describe this World Heavyweight "Death in Darkness" match. Blackouts... landmines... no interference. Steve, you wanted to know what "blood Pudding" is? I'm afraid you'll probably see it here. SR: Entertaining AND educational. Isn't the IIWF a thing of beauty? I want to cry. But I won't, cause only nancy-boys and Larry Morton do that sort of thing. TD: There could be some tears shed by the men in the ring too. Someone will finish this bout as the champion, and there is every reason to believe that Shadoe Rage could be that man. SR: Dross, Dross, Dross. There is only one name in a match like this: Steve Roberts. When Steve R. isn't there, go with the next best thing, Steve "The Fury" Kowalski. He grew up in New Jersey. This isn't a match for him... this is reliving his elementary school days. TD: Folks, all that incredible action coming your way right here tonight -- so let's kick it right off with our opening contest! ________ ______ ..........................| || |\ \ /\ / /| __|......................... | || | \ v v / | __| |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| FOUR-WAY TAG TEAM WARFARE: The Machines vs. Fabulous Ones vs. American Dragons vs. Night Patrol ........................................................................ WRITER: Mike Beeby TD: And here we go fans, Ring Wars V is about to get underway! SR: Bigger than the World Cup, bigger than the World Series, and dammit, we only need one night to show the best. TD: Well said, Steve. Let's go to the ring for the opening contest, with Sparkplug Lee making his way into the arena. [As the massive crowd around the stadium cheers for the entrance of the near-legendary Sparkplug Lee, the diminutive ring announcer emerges from the locker rooms in the back, and comes right down the rampway into the aisle. Around him, the usually warring fan factions unite in one solid cheer, and Sparkplug stops for a few seconds to shake some hands. The Furies, the Sychopaths and all the other groups explode over and over again with cheers, until Sparkplug enters the ring.] SL: Hello Wembley, and hello world! This is Ring Wars V, and we are _LIVE_! Are you ready to see Steve Kowalski and Shadoe Rage rumble? [The crowd responds overwhelmingly with a mighty chant of "Yes!"] What about Duncan Macbeth and Simon Lebec? Is Duncan Macbeth going to keep that Intercontinental Championship? [Mountainous pop] Or is Simon Lebec your saviour? [Tremendous shift in the fans' response, as the entire stadium lets loose with a heel pop to shake the building supports. The crowd eventually begins to die down, and the timekeeper rings the bell three times. Sparkplug takes a deep breath, and then launches into the introductions for the match.] Ladies and gentlemen, this first match is a special top contenders match. It will be fought under tornado rules, and all eight men will be legal at any one time. Elimination may be by pinfall, submission or by ejection over the top rope, and when one member of a team is eliminated, so too is their partner. There are _no_ disqualifications or countouts. Whichever team is victorious will receive a shot at the IIWF World Tag Team Championship in the near future. ["Welcome to the Machine" screams out over the PA system in the stadium.] TD: This should be an interesting entrance, we're not even sure if that brawl we saw earlier has been broken up yet. We last saw the Machines and Fabulous Ones attacking one another in the parking lot. SR: Whole lotta fun goin' on, baby dolls. Four gay guys goin' at it. Scratch that; three gay guys and a woman beater. TD: Steve Roberts, you may be more apt than even _you_ realise. [The crowd begins to get restless as the Machines don't appear when their music plays, and it goes all the way through once with still no appearances. It starts up again, and this time Sparkplug does the intros anyway.] SR: From Cleveland, Ohio, and weighing in at 227 pounds, SIMON O'NEAL! And from Denver, Colorado, weighing in at 276 pounds, PAUL WONG! Together, they are the MAAAAACHINES! TD: The Machines are not coming out, and I have a feeling that the Fabu... Whoa, here they come! All four of them! [Simon O'Neal appears in the entraceway, and Paul Wong can be seen seconds later. But they are not alone, as "Sweet" Sho Satsuma and "The Universal Heartthrob" Agito Nakajima are with them. Sho grabs a dishevelled Wong by the tights and throws him back into the entranceway opening, while Agito grabs O'Neal and bodyslams him on the stage.] SR: Sweet mother of Moses, they've been fighting all that time? Give them a pay raise and a push! TD: Believe it or not, fans, this is only half of the match. There's two other teams who are scheduled to be involved, the American Dragons and Night Patrol. Here come the Dragons! [Bob Ivey roars out of the locker rooms and ploughs into Sho Satsuma, attacking from behind with a clubbing forearm shot to the back. Paul Wong rakes the eyes of the Fabulous One while Ivey grabs his arms, and Wong rears back with a roundhouse. Sho ducks and Wong strikes Ivey, but doesn't appear to be remorseful. Agito Nakajima meanwhile catches Joe Scalercio with an elbowsmash, but leaves himself open to a low blow from Simon O'Neal. Three of the four teams are in the aisle, and the fourth, Rey Garcia and Jack Blazer, rushes out to join in the melee. The crowd erupts, eager for action of any kind, and the eight men go to work battering each other and using the retaining barriers as assistance as they slowly move down the ramp towards ringside.] TD: Sho Satsuma is focused only on Paul Wong, he doesn't really care about anyone else. Agito Nakajima and Bob Ivey are trading punches with each other, but both members of Night Patrol with a clothesline! Ivey is down, and the Patrol is working over Joe Scalercio double time! Four arms working him over with sledgehammer blows, and Scalercio is just covering up! [All of a sudden Scalercio lets loose a wild yell, and begins to nail both members of the Night Patrol with chops and kicks, sending both men stumbling backwards. He nails Rey Garcia with a clothesline that sends him flying out into the crowd, and Bob Ivey tackles Jack Blazer to the ground. Garcia gets up, and dodges a flying shouldertackle by Scalercio. Meanwhile Agito Nakajima takes control over Simon O'Neal and delivers a nasty lariat that flips O'Neal 360 degrees. Paul Wong meanwhile is doubled up by a kick to the groin, and a double underhook piledriver out on the steel ramp dazes Wong. Then the lights go out. The lights return, as the wrestlers continue to fight. "Sweet Emotions" by Aerosmith plays to the packed arena. The Lovely Bertha strolls out from behind the curtains and down the aisle way towards the ring, with an intense look. She ignores the applause from the fans that recognises her from the AEWA, as well as the wrestlers pounding on each other in the ramp. She's wearing black heels, black jeans, and a white vest. She has her hair tied up in a bun. She enters the ring, and quickly grabs the microphone out of Sparkplug Lee's hand, nearly yanking him to the mat.] LB: Fans, sorry for the rudeness, but I'm not a happy camper about doing this! TD: Not happy about doing what? SR: Being associated with the AbFabs. LB: I'm not angry about introducing the Fabulous Ones... TD: Introducing the Fabs? They're already out. SR: Whoa! Where did that come from? LB: ...I'm unhappy about Ms. Miki not being here to do this! Paul Wong, your ass is going down! And, Simon, you make me sick! I can't believe you'd let Wong do something like that to a woman. The next two gorgeous individuals would never do something so heinous to any woman. They're every bit of a woman's fantasy of a real man. They'll fulfil every woman's dreams, unlike you, Simon. They're everything a man wants to be, and everything a woman wants to be with! Here are "The Universal Heartthrob" Agito Nakajima and "Sweet" Sho Satsuma, the FABULOUS ONES! ["Kiss of Death" by Dokken plays over the PA, the Fabs standing over the Machines while the Night Patrol and American Dragons continue to square off.] LB: It's ShoTime! TD: No, it's a little late for that is what it is. [A huge explosion goes off that rocks the arena as the lights go out.] TD: What on earth? SR: If some fat guy leads a one-eyed freak out, I'm leaving. TD: Creed? I didn't know he had a manager. [Twelve red lasers shine from the entranceway above the ring lights. The words "Fabulous Ones" are shown. They start to spin around, faster and faster, until they're nothing more than a red haze. The haze turns into a new set of words, "Machines -- Dead Men Walking", followed by another loud explosion. When the lights come back on the Fabulous Ones are in the ring. The other teams are still at the rampway, and the Fabs are calling them on and posing for a sea of flashbulbs from the crowd. The Lovely Bertha and Mr. Tsuburaya are ringside. "Kiss of Death" fades out as Agito and Sho prepare for the 'start' of the match, while the Night Patrol and American Dragons now start to move their brawl towards the ring.] TD: Quite the display of mind games, I would say. The Fabs ruin the Machines' entrance, and then make sure they get their own entrance in. SR: The AbFabs are showmen. Excuse me, they're Sho-men. Good god that's tired already. [Scalercio and Ivey reteam and begin to work Jack Blazer over, doubling him up and hitting him with an inverted atomic drop into a lariat out on the floor. The Machines begin to rise, and Simon O'Neal breaks into a sprint, diving into the ring headfirst and right into a kneedrop from Agito. Sho comes off the ropes with a somersault legdrop to further the damage, and Agito grabs an oncoming Paul Wong by the head and tries to bulldog him into the mat. Instead, Wong lifts him up over his head and drops him with an atomic drop, before sending him into Sho with a knee to the back.] TD: The Fabs collide! SR: Just like at home. And just like at home, there's women watching but unable to get in on it. [Finally we get a bell, but by this time the match is already minutes old(at least in the fans' minds). He springs over the ropes with a jacknife splash and comes down onto O'Neal, but Wong enters the ring as well and drops a knee onto the back of Sho Satsuma's head. Agito Nakajima remains on the floor and sends Bob Ivey headlong into the steel ringsteps, then proceeds to kick him several times while he's down.] SR: Those Machines are startin' to become my favourite tag team, or at least they would if I liked tag teams. You know my motto... TD: I know them all, Steve Roberts. SR: Damn, since you wised up you're no fun anymore, Dross. TD: Just another perk. [Wong and O'Neal double-team Sho Satsuma in the ring, as Wong whips the Fabulous One straight into a missile dropkick by O'Neal, who was waiting on the top rope. Wong then picks his partner up in a gorilla press and looms over Sho, pausing long enough to insult him once more and then drops Simon straight down, into a pinning position. The referee slaps the mat, but to thunderous applause Sho kicks out. Wong looks angry and nearly smacks the referee, but Simon grabs Sho by the legs and turns him over into a camel clutch. Wong prepares to use a legdrop now, but Agito enters the ring from behind and grabs him just in time to halt the move, executing a back suplex in the process. O'Neal releases Satsuma, and takes a paintbrush across the face. Meanwhile outside the ring, Joe Scalercio and Jack Blazer are tied up, while Bob Ivey has Rey Garcia in position for a tombstone piledriver out on the floor.] TD: Oh my lord, piledriver! Rey Garcia is out like a light! Bob Ivey over with his partner now, and both men are pounding away on Jack Blazer. Blazer with a double eye poke, and smashes the Dragons' faces on the guardrail. SR: Now Night Patrol have some potential, especially if their only challengers are the American Drag Queens. TD: Ah, a new one. Now this pay-per-view is truly complete. [Blazer grabs Scalercio in a front facelock and throws him into the ring, then sends Bob Ivey into the guardrails with a standing spinebuster slam up against them. Ivey in la-la land, Blazer waits for Brenda Hawkings to revive Garcia, and then the two members of Night Patrol begin to set up for their finisher, Police Brutality, while Agito Nakajima grabs Paul Wong by the hair and throws him into the corner. Lightning quick jabs to the stomach is followed up with a kneelift, and outside Jack Blazer stands on the ring apron, preparing for the elevated powerslam. At the last second, Joe Scalercio grabs Blazer and flips him over the top rope by the head.] SR: You idiot, you're supposed to throw him out the other way. What a moron, he sullies the name of America. TD: I've never seen you so patriotic. [Rey Garcia pitches Ivey into the ring and climbs in after him, while his partner suffers numerous mounted punches at the hands of Scalercio. Across the ring, Simon O'Neal ducks a swinging punch from Sho Satsuma and kicks him in the groin, then delivers a snap suplex that smashes Satsuma's legs into the corner. O'Neal takes full advantage with an STF, weakening both the leg and arm of his foe. Lady Bertha is flanked by Mr. Tsuburaya on the left side of her, while across the ring Assistant D.A. Brenda Hawkings glares at the temporary manager of the Fabs.] TD: It wouldn't appear as though the ladies at ringside are too pleased that the other is present. SR: Hot damn, Dross, catfight! TD: Oh, joy. [Simon O'Neal releases the STF, and tries to pull Sho to his feet, only to be caught in a small package for a near count of three. Rey Garcia grabs Joe Scalercio from behind and wheels him around into a clothesline, putting the Dragon on the mat. Garcia then gets to his feet and helps Blazer up, and is then powerbombed onto Scalercio by the other Night Patrol member. He almost gets a pinfall there, but at the last second Bob Ivey pulls him off, and takes a kick to the stomach from Lt. Blazer. Blazer pulls Ivey to his feet and tries to get him scooped up for a powerslam, but Ivey responds with a kneelift, atomic drop, and football tackle straight into the corner. Ivey attempts to throw Blazer over the top rope, but is unsuccessful in his attempts on the 6'8 Blazer. Agito Nakajima and Paul Wong are tied up in the corner with Wong delivering repeated palm shots to the Universal Heartthrob's chest, then swinging uppercuts in succession. Wong grabs Agito in a side headlock and runs across the ring into a bulldog, but is tackled to the mat instead by Rey Garcia, taking the knees of Wong out.] TD: The force of that hit has left Paul Wong on the mat, and it might have damaged those knees of his. Hand it to the Fabulous Ones, they know how to take advantage quickly, as Sho Satsuma comes over and gets Wong into a scorpion deathlock. SR: That tough little bastard O'Neal doesn't like it, he's got "Sweet" Sho with a headlock and is pulling him off Wong. DDT! Lights out, sweet thang. [Simon goes for a pinfall, but Sho kicks out in time. Bob Ivey of the Dragons picks Simon up by the hair and bodyslams him, but Paul Wong makes him pay with a sleeperhold from behind, lifting Ivey off his feet and swinging him around like a rag doll. Ungrateful for the help against his featured opponent, Jack Blazer catches Wong in the back with a shoulderblock, causing Wong to drop Ivey. Blazer clamps Wong in a standing surfboard, and holds him while Rey Garcia springs to his feet, comes off the second rope with a missile dropkick to put Wong down. Joe Scalercio and Sho Satsuma grapple not too far off, and Scalercio attempts to drop Sho with the Dragon Strike. But as he jumps up to midbuckle, Sho turns it into a powerslam, and both men are down for a long period of time. Their partners, Bob Ivey and Agito Nakajima, get involved in a fistfight that is ended with a double clip of the knees by Simon O'Neal. O'Neal then goes over to Paul Wong and helps him up, then the unified Machines charge at the Night Patrol, almost eliminating them by tossing them over the ropes. Garcia puts the breaks on and hangs onto the ropes, and Jack Blazer manages to shove both Machines back.] TD: Uh-oh, we've got an uninvited guest! Here comes Harlequin Terror! [Harlequin Terror sprints down the ramp to ringside, as a loud pop rises for the unexpected distraction. He enters the ring and grabs Bob Ivey by the arm, yanking him to the mat and pulling him into a crossface. He releases, and takes care of Rey Garcia with a diving clothesline, and then drops him again with a reverse neckbreaker. Terror is kicked in the thigh from Jack Blazer, but Agito Nakajima levels Blazer, only to be trapped along with him in a double front facelock. Terror snap DDTs both men, and turns his attention to Joe Scalercio. Joe attempts to take Terror down with the legs, and manages to get Terror in a grapevine. But Terror grabs the ropes and snaps out of the move, then kicks Joe square in the face, knocking him unconscious.] TD: Terror has hit the ring, and he's decimating everyone! Here comes Sho Satsuma, who runs at the Harlequin, but he's caught and thrown up into mid-air, and comes crashing down! Sho hit face first. [That leaves Paul Wong, who stares at Terror before attacking, and the two lock up. Wong starts to bring Terror down with his power, but a kneelift leads into a rocker dropper, and the Grip of Terror leaves Wong sputtering. Another Harlequin, Chaos, comes down and pulls on Terror, eventually pulling him from the ring, though the damage is already done.] DR: That freak just laid everyone out! Are they gonna stop the match and make us happy? TD: No such luck for you, Steve Roberts. [Inside the ring, the first man to rise is Jack Blazer of the Night Patrol, and he goes over to Bob Ivey, trying to get the pinfall. Ivey kicks out, and is brought to his feet with a headlock. He tries to lift Blazer off the mat with a back suplex, but Rey Garcia smashes into the back of his legs, clipping them. Ivey goes down, and the Night Patrol go to work on him and Joe Scalercio, but on an Irish whip into the ropes, Scalercio ducks a double clothesline, and comes back to rock them each with elbowsmashes to the face. Scalercio keeps working on Blazer and uses his off-balance to get him to the ropes, until-] TD: Jack Blazer tumbles over the ropes, and Night Patrol is eliminated! SR: Aw, the one team I was rooting for! TD: Rey Garcia isn't taking it well, and... wait a second, he just threw Joe Scalercio over the top rope! Is that legal? The referee apparently is letting it stand, ladies and gentlemen, and we're down to two teams! [The other members of the Night Patrol and American Dragons leave the ring, and all four get into a brawl that carries them up the ramp and to the locker rooms. As they brawl up the ramp, more bodies rush out and down towards the ring, and the noticeably pungent smell of fish starts to waft around the stadium.] TD: It's the PROPHETS OF RAGE! [Unique Allah hits the ring first, and just as Simon O'Neal begins to get to his feet, he's hit with a dropkick to the knee, and then locked into a kneelock submission. Derek Rage towers over the ropes and then grabs both of the Fabulous Ones for a double chokeslam in the middle of the ring. Paul Wong tries to shove Derek Rage, but he takes a kneelift and then piledriver, laid out right next to the Fabs. O'Neal is screaming out in pain, and Allah lets go, then lifts him up and sets him in the corner, dusts him off, and apologises for being better than the Machines! O'Neal swings and misses at Allah, and Allah taunts O'Neal. Rage meanwhile has set the other three barely conscious guys in the other corners, and the Prophets leave as bizarrely as they came in, apologising to everyone. Walking up the ramp, the fans around the PoR begin to throw fish at Allah and Derek Rage, and chants of "Prophets Rule! Prophets Rule! Prophets Rule!" are heard.] TD: Utterly amazing, but there is still a match taking place. SR: Any more teams wanna come out? It's free shots on three gay guys and a woman beater. [O'Neal, despite a limp, walks across the ring to his partner, and a discussion starts. Wong shakes off the cobwebs and digs into his boots, pulling something out.] TD: What is that? SR: Their true nature is shining through, baby dolls. Those are handcuffs! [Wong produces two pairs of handcuffs, and gives one to Simon. Each of the Machines begin to stomp a Fab, and then uses the handcuffs- on themselves! The Machines are locked to the ropes, and as Wong tries to grab Sho, "Sweet" Sho rocks him with a kick to the gut. A clothesline sends Wong over the top rope, but the handcuffs prevent his feet from hitting the floor.] SR: That's brilliant! I'll give him that, he's found a way to cheat! TD: Looks like Simon's version of the Soundbite Stall became outdated. [Simon headbutts Agito Nakajima and then tries a one handed punch, but Agito easily blocks it, and cracks Simon in the head. Wong gets back in the ring and moves close to Simon, as the Fabs combine for a double dropkick. Sho then whips Agito straight into the Machines, but Wong and O'Neal each lower a shoulder, and then straighten up to send Agito falling. Falling out over the ropes, and down until he hits the floor with a thud, the bell ringing at the same time.] TD: It's over! The Machines win! SR: Bondage fans unite! SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of the match... THE MAAAAAAAAAAACHINES! [Wong and O'Neal hi-five each other, but Sho Satsuma continues to pound on them, the Machines helpless and tied to the ropes. He delivers low blows on both men, and Agito slides into the ring with a chair, delivering a wicked chairshot to the head of Wong and O'Neal. The crowd explodes into cheers, and the Fabs are led away by Lady Bertha and Mr. Tsuburaya, up the ramp. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: Oh my! I don't think the bad blood between the Fabulous Ones and the Machines has been ended here tonight, Steve Roberts. Hold on... I think we have a camera backstage with the Harlequins. [Cut to backstage. Harlequin Chaos has Terror slung over his shoulder. Terror is kicking and screaming.] TERROR: I WANT MY BINKY! I WANT MY BINKY! I WANT MY BINKY! [Chaos throws Terror on the ground. The newest Harlequin gets up and grabs Chaos by the vest.] TERROR: They have BINKY! I WANT BINKY! [Chaos grabs Terror by the face with one hand and slams him against the wall.] CHAOS: GEt a gRIP! why IN The WORld aRE You hELPing THEm? TERROR: THEY HAVE BINKY! CHAOS: You ARE makING thiNGS difFICult! TERROR: I WANT MY BINKY! CHAOS: TerrOR! TERROR: I WANT MY BINKY! CHAOS: TErroR! TERROR: I WANT MY BINKY! CHAOS: TERROR! TERROR: What? CHAOS: I THink I HAve a PLAn. TERROR: To get Binky back, yes? CHAOS: Yes. YEs I dO. [The two Harlequins make their way into their locker room and slam the door. Cut back to ringside.] TD: Well, folks, an incredible match to kick things off here tonight at Ring Wars 5 -- and it's only going to get more chaotic right now as we go straight into our unique "King of the Mountain" match. SR: Let me get this straight, Dross: we start off with two guys, and the match goes to a single decision, and then the winner stays on to fight the next guy? TD: That's right. But if there's no decision within a five minute time limit for each bout, both wrestlers are eliminated from the match. SR: And the winner of the whole shebang gets a shot at any IIWF championship? TD: Absolutely. SR: _Any_ championship, Dross buddy? TD: That's my understanding, yes. SR: So we could have Eddy Jacks or Ike Sampson wrestling for the Cruiserweight title -- or one guy challenging for the World Tag Team titles? TD: Anything can happen in the IIWF, Steve Roberts. It's going to be a wild one, that's for sure. Let's get up to the ring -- but first, let's hear from one of the participants, Ike Sampson. [Cut to backstage. Ike Sampson stands in his locker room, in full ring attire.] IKE: Well, well, well, it's time. Time for me to stake my claim as the King of the Mountain. But first, I'd like to introduce you to my cornerman for tonight... [Ike turns towards the left, motioning for someone to join him. A man comes out in a wheelchair, both legs in casts. He also has his left arm in a sling, and a neckbrace on. Barely visible under all that plaster is a black "WRESTLE CLEAN" t-shirt. Ike goes over and stands next to the man, putting his hand on his shoulder.] IKE: My Main Man... One of my childhood heroes... The Magnificent Carlitos!! [Carlitos tries to raise his right arm -- the one _not_ in a cast -- to wave, but drops it back down, groaning with the pain. Ike pats him on the shoulder.] Musashi... take a good, long look. This man is what the history of this wonderful sport is all about -- and look what you've done to him. You're gonna pay... someday soon. But first things first... tonight, I'm gonna be King of the Mountain! TMC: Rey Del Monte! IKE: You said it. And with a man like this -- who's climbed more mountains in that ring that most people have ever _thought_ about -- in my corner, and 80,000 fans behind me, how can I lose?! TMC: Viva La Ike! [Cut back to ringside.] ________ ______ ..........................| || |\ \ /\ / /| __|......................... | || | \ v v / | __| |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| KING OF THE MOUNTAIN PROGRESSIVE MATCH ........................................................................ WRITER: Mike Sonby [Sparkplug Lee enters the ring and begins his introductions.] SL: This is the "King of the Mountain..." VOICES: CASTLE! [Sparkplug is shocked by the voices, loud enough to be heard throughout Wembley Stadium without the use of a microphone. Sitting in the first few rows are over two hundred large Scotsmen. Some of them are carrying signs supporting Duncan and Andrew Macbeth. Sparkplug accidentally speaks into the microphone.] SL: Excuse me? [The two hundred men all begin saying in a singsong voice...] SCOTSMEN: # King of the Castle / Get down you dirty rascal! # [Sparkplug looks completely astounded at the sight of two hundred burly voices chanting this child's song, and just stands there with a shocked expression on his face, his mouth wide open.] TD: Our ring announcer appears lost. SR: He is lost. He just picked the worst time to demonstrate it to the world. [Finally, Sparkplug shakes out of his reverie, and begins again.] SL: This is the "King of the..." [he looks over at the Scotsmen] "...Castle..." [The Scotsmen start cheering loudly, and Sparkplug shows a relieved smile.] SL: ...match. Nine men have drawn numbers before the match. The first two men shall enter the ring and wrestle to one fall. There is a five minute time limit. The winner will move on to face the next contender. If the time limit expires, both men are eliminated. The last man standing will receive a title shot of his choice! [Cheers from the crowd. Sparkplug pulls out a sheet of paper, with the list of wrestlers on it.] SL: Introducing first, drawing number one... [An unnamed IIWF official heads over to the ring and signals for Sparkplug to head over. Sparkplug walks over, but brings the microphone, and some of the words are broadcast throughout Wembley Stadium.] SL: Change of order... He traded positions... Traded to WHERE?... All right... [Sparkplug pulls out a pen. Using the turnbuckle as a makeshift desk, he scribbles a couple of notes, then heads back to the centre of the canvas.] SL: Introducing, first, drawing... _with_ the number one slot... "SANGUINARY" STEVE MANNING! ["The Frayed Ends of Sanity" by Metallica starts up, and Manning starts walking down the ramp to the ring. He is wearing a t-shirt of Hank Hill from the FOX TV show "King of the Hill" and wearing a broad grin. A half-smoked cigarette dangles from his lips, and he is carrying a water bottle. He walks up to ringside... and starts looking around. He walks around the ring as the music plays, occasionally stopping and peering at an object like the corner post or a ring rope. Every once in a while, he just nods his head. Finally, he rolls into the ring, and waits for his opponent.] SL: And, drawing number two... "THE INTREPID" RYAN HOWARD! [Metallica is replaced with... Metallica, as "Don't Tread On Me" starts up. The rugged Howard walks down the ramp. There are several cheers from the fans, mainly because they consider his opponent much worse. He rolls into the ring, and referee Earl Alfonso starts the match. Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: Manning and Howard, the first two men in the King of the Mountain match. It sounded like Manning traded to get the number one slot! He might be as crazy as he acts. SR: Hell, if I hung around Quigley, I'd go nuts too. Maybe this is his way of going Kevorkian; trying to get eight other wrestlers to put him out of his misery. And if he had a hot dog, I'm sure Sampson would do it. [Manning and Howard lock up, and Howard applies a headlock. Manning lifts him up in an atomic drop, then bulldogs Howard to the mat. He covers for a count of one. As Howard gets to his feet, Manning goes for a dropkick, but Howard catches his feet and just throws him to the mat. Manning lands on the back of his head, and Howard cinches in a reverse chinlock.] TD: Howard trying to slow down the match. SR: Now that's just dumb. Not Larry Morton dumb, but almost. He's got five minutes to pin Manning. Now is not the time for pretty weardown holds. [Manning gets to his feet, and yells at the referee that Howard is choking him. As Alfonso examines the chinlock, Manning mulekicks Howard, doubling him over. Manning spins around and piledrives Howard, then covers for another two count. He bounces off the ropes and legdrops Howard for another two count. He chokes Howard until Alfonso hits the four and a half mark, then covers again. Two count.] TD: Manning might be making the opposite mistake. He's going for the pin too early, and giving Howard a chance to recover. SR: Manning's not the brightest bulb in the flashlight drawer, either. But at least he's got the right idea. [Manning then picks up Howard and starts to go for a DDT. Howard blocks it by kneeling down, then muscles up and lifts Manning up in a Northern Lights Suplex. As Manning gets to his feet, Howard lashes out with a haymaker, sending Manning sprawling to the mat. He then signals for the Ragnarok.] TD: Ryan Howard going for his finisher... SR: One President of the Quigley fan club gone. [Howard locks on the full nelson, but Manning again lashes out with his feet and nails Howard in the crotch. Howard doubles over, and Manning snaps on the DDT. Instead of going for the cover, Manning places Howard on the top ropes, then climbs the turnbuckles himself. He hooks up Howard...] TD: SuperFishermanbuster! Manning sent Howard crashing to the mat, and has him locked up... [Alfonso drops to make the cover: 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding! Howard pounds the mat and starts to go after Manning, but Alfonso orders him to the back. Manning exaggerates waving goodbye to Howard, then yanks the microphone from the entering Sparkplug Lee.] SM: One down, seven to go! Who's number three? [To answer his question, "Fur Elise" by Beethoven starts up, and Charles Scheffield enters the Stadium. The crowd gives a tremendous response as Scheffield walks down regally. He stares at Manning with a determined look on his face. He enters the ring and immediately locks up with Manning.] SR: Oh, wonderful. A Quigley wannabe and a Lord Byron wannabe. This is almost as exciting as a tag team match. [Scheffield turns a lockup into a waistlock into a German suplex, then whips Manning into the ropes and hits him with a sidewalk slam for a one count. As Manning gets up, he pokes Scheffield in the eyes, then throws him out of the ring. As Scheffield gets to his feet, Manning leaps over the ropes into a high-cross bodyblock, sending both men crashing outside the ring.] TD: Manning rams Scheffield's head into the steel guardrail. Now he picks up Scheffield and bodyslams him to the floor... Steve Roberts, what are you doing? SR: I'm ordering a pizza... or some Mooselips... or some biscuits... TD: ...or anything but paying attention to the match at hand. SR: Hey, I'm a simple man in my wrestling tastes. A little blood, a little Skullpump, a little Melody sitting on my lap. This match has none of those. [Manning walks over and throws a photographer out of his chair, then picks up the chair and raises it over his head. He slams it down, but misses Scheffield, who stepped out of the way. The steel chair comes crashing onto the guardrail, and Scheffield hits Manning with a belly-to-back suplex on the floor. Scheffield throws Manning back into the ring, then drops an elbow onto Manning. He covers for a two count. As Manning gets up, Scheffield dropkicks Manning's knee, then trips him up and applies an STF.] TD: Scheffield with the STF applied in the middle of the ring! We still have three minutes to go in this match, and Manning is trapped in the hold. SR: Oh, sure. Scheffield's got all these fancy holds, and he can apply any of them. But he's not cold enough. TD: Cold enough? SR: Sure. If he really wants a submission, if he really wants someone to say "I quit!" -- and any friend of Quigley certainly knows the words -- he has to try and take the leg home with him as a souvenir. But Scheffy's too nice. [Manning struggles for the ropes, but can't reach them. He tries to reach around and grab Scheffield's head, but Scheffield deftly avoids it. Manning does manage to grab Scheffield's arm, and a wild gleam appears in his eyes, as he pulls the arm towards him...] TD: He's biting Scheffield's hand! SR: And clamping down, too. You see, Steve Manning wants a Scheffield handburger. [Scheffield hollers in shock and pain, and releases the STF. The referee immediately counts Manning, who releases the finger sandwich from his jaws. As Scheffield pulls his hand to check the damage, Manning picks Scheffield up in a bodyslam...then drops him on his head.] TD: Brainshock! Manning with the cover... [Alfonso makes the count: 1 -- 2 -- kickout!] TD: Scheffield kicks out! There's only a minute and a half left in this bout. [Steve Manning looks at the referee with surprise that the Brainshock didn't put Scheffield away, then shrugs his shoulder and starts climbing the ropes. He turns around to give the Wembley fans the finger, then leaps off with a moonsault... ...that connects. He covers, and the referee again reaches two before Scheffield weakly kicks out. Manning gets another gleam in his eyes, and rolls Scheffield out of the ring. He slaps Scheffield, who is unable to defend himself, then places Scheffield on top of the steel railing, with his upper torso on top of the railing. Scheffield is unable to move as Manning sets him up, then climbs into the ring... and towards the top turnbuckle.] TD: This is dangerous. If he hits Scheffield, with his body over the steel railing, he could break several ribs. SR: Scheffield's... or his? [Manning gets to the top rope, smiles, and leaps off... Scheffield finally recovers enough to move out of the way, and Manning ends up splashing the steel railing. Manning goes into convulsions, while Scheffield is sitting on the floor, recovering from the earlier assault.] TD: Manning is insane! SR: You know, most of the time I think that little SOB is just putting on an act. But a move like that... that's Derek Mota nuts. TD: So you're becoming a "Sanguinary" fan? SR: Fan? [laughs out loud] Hell, no. He might be a nutcase, he might do a couple of risky moves... but there's a fine line between being a risktaker and being an idiot. When it comes down to it, Steve Manning still thinks Chris Quigley is better than... a piece of Dog Quigley. That puts him firmly on the "idiot" side of the line. [He pauses] SR: Besides... what the hell is a "Sanguinary", anyway? TD: We have just about twenty seconds left in the match, and Scheffield is just now getting to his feet. Steve Manning is still on the mat, clutching his ribs in complete agony. [Scheffield throws Manning into the ring, then rolls under the ropes himself. Noting the time remaining, he picks up Manning to suplex him, but Manning rolls him up in a small package... 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: Scheffield kicked out too late! Steve Manning gets by Charles Scheffield, and moves on to face his third opponent. SR: Maybe now he'll actually face someone with a little killer instinct. ["The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" starts up, and Edmund Fitzgerald steps out.] SR: Then again... [Fitzgerald looks at the ground as he walks towards the ring, and seems very distracted. Manning spends the time recovering from his battle with Scheffield. But when Fitzgerald gets up to the ring apron, Manning slips back into attack mode and dropkicks him back down to the floor, then rolls out of the ring and locks up with Fitzgerald on the outside of the ring. Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: Manning taking the fight to the much larger Fitzgerald. SR: Yeah, but so what? Fitzgerald is obviously worried about ChickenHawk getting into the cage with that Madagascaran nutcase Musashi. I'm not even sure he realized who he was fighting. TD: Well, the guy he's fighting just clotheslined him. [Manning starts choking Fitzgerald blatantly. Fitzgerald gets to his feet, scoops up Manning, and slams him to the floor. Manning lashes out with his foot, and catches Fitzgerald in the stomach, then leaps up and DDTs him on the ground. Somehow, a group of fans have started cheering for Manning, and a makeshift sign reading "I'M A SANGUI-KNIGHT." Manning gets to his feet, and one of the fans hand him a lit Marlboro. Manning takes a long drag on the cigarette, then blows some smoke rings, sending the group of fans into a frenzy. Manning calls for something from the fans.] TD: A group have fans have taken to admiring Steve Manning, "Soundbite". SR: Well, the Troy fan club needed to have someone new to lavish their attention. What's he getting now? [Some of the fans empty their sodas of liquids and hand him the cups. Manning reaches into the cups and scoops out the large pieces of ice, then bashes them in Edmund's face.] SM: Ice, captain! We've hit ice! TD: Wrong ship reference by Steve Manning. SR: Yeah, but the Titanic let us see Kate Winslet in all of her glory. All the Edmund Fitzgerald gave us was a long, long, LONG song by Gordon Lightfoot. [Manning lifts Fitzgerald up and suplexes him on the floor, then rolls into the ring to break the referee's count. He rolls back out, and heads over to the Spanish Announcer's table. With a large sweep of his arm, he knocks off all of the announcing equipment from the table and sends the Spanish Announcers scattering.] TD: Why do the Spanish announcers always have so much trouble at our Pay-Per-Views? SR: The more important question is why don't we hire bodyguards for them? [Manning rolls Fitzgerald onto the table, and picks up for a Brainshock through the table. Fitzgerald struggles and kicks, and with his weight, he topples Manning over. Both fall off the table, but Fitzgerald gets to this feet first, picks up Manning, and powerslams him to the floor. Fitzgerald rolls him into the ring, and covers for a count of: 1 -- 2 -- kickout!] TD: Manning still with some life left in him. SR: Yeah... and Fitzy still had that "lost like Sparkplug" look about him. Someone send in Mitch Gaylord to help the sailor boy shake out of his doldrums. [Fitzgerald picks up Manning, takes a few steps back, and runs forward for a powerslam. He covers again for a: 1 -- 2 -- kickout! Fitzgerald picks up Manning, and grabs him in a Bearhug.] TD: Manning's ribs are already weakened from crashing into the steel guardrail earlier. He is in serious danger of losing right here. [Manning's eyes are closed, and he flails around as Fitzgerald shakes him from side to side. The referee raises his arm once... it falls. He raises it a second time... it falls again. He raises it a third time... Manning's arm stays up, and he opens his eyes. With a wild gleam in his eyes, he reaches into his trunks, while the referee's view is obscured by the massive Fitzgerald, who still has the bear hug locked in.] TD: Steve Manning's got some brass knuckles! SR: Nice, shiny ones too. Orson brand -- very durable. I have to give him credit for quality foreign objects. [Manning takes the brass knuckles in his right hand... and shoves them in Fitzgerald's trunks. with both hands, he viciously rakes the eyes of Fitzgerald, forcing Fitzgerald to drop him to the mat. The referee goes over to admonish Manning, but Manning looks at the referee with innocent eyes and points to Fitzgerald's trunks, where the brass knuckles are sticking out. Earl Alfonso spots the knuckles and calls for the bell. Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: What's the decision here? [Fitzgerald finally regains his sight just as Alfonso calls him for the disqualification. Manning starts laughing hysterically... until he is nailed by Fitzgerald with the brass knuckles. Alfonso heads over to stop Fitzgerald, but Edmund shoves Earl Alfonso out of the way, whips Manning into the ropes, and nails him with the Shipwreck Slam. He starts viciously stomping on Manning's ribs.] TD: Fitzgerald was framed by Manning, and the Cold Spell member is taking it out on the "Sanguinary" One. SR: First rule of cheating, bub. Never give the opponent a weapon unless you have one of your own. That's in my new book, Zen and the art of rulebreaking. Chapter 12, page 154. Manning should have read up. [Earl Alfonso finally manages to separate Edmund Fitzgerald from Steve Manning, but Manning is in bad shape. The bruises on his ribs are very visible. Edmund storms out of the ring, while Manning just crawls over to his corner and sits up. From the audience, one of the "Sangui-Knights" toss a package of cigarettes and a lighter into the ring. Manning winces as he grabs the cigarettes off the mat, opens the package, and lights up. The bell rings again, signaling his next opponent... and "The Great Southern Trendkill" by Sepultura starts up.] TD: Derek Mota! Mota is opponent number five in the King of the Mountain. SR: Manning's luck just ran out. Manning thinks that he's a tough and crazy SOB? No one is as tough, as crazy, or as much of an SOB as this Canandian bastard. [Mota runs down the ramp, and spots his weakened opponent stuggling to get to his feet. A wide grin appears on Mota, and he dives under the ropes and immediately begins assaulting Manning. Manning swings back, and connects a few times. But Mota whips Manning into the ropes and nails him with a Japanese arm drag, sending Manning flailing out of the ring. Mota doesn't pause as he bounces off the ropes and dives through with a plancha onto Manning, then rolls Manning into the ring. Mota hops up to the apron, measures his opponent's position, and does a springboard legdrop onto Manning that connects solidly. Mota makes the cover... 1 -- 2 -- Kickout!] TD: Manning kicks out! Steve Manning is a disgusting, certifiable nutcase... but he has outlasted three opponents, and still is trying to keep fighting. He has to earn your respect for that. SR: He's earned nothing. He's a Quigley lover. TD: But Manning has... SR: Let me repeat myself. He's... a... Quigley... lover. Those people should be shot just on principle. [Mota positions Manning on the top turnbuckle, and lifts him up for a superplex. But Manning grabs the ropes to hold on, then shoves Mota off the ropes. Mota crashes to the mat, and Manning jumps up and leaps off with a somersault legdrop, catching Mota in the chest. The Sangui-Knights go nuts as Manning covers... 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! Manning slaps Mota, then whips Mota into the ropes. He leaps up for a hurricanrana on the rebound. But Mota is still too fresh compared to Manning, stops himself, then drops down and powerbombs Manning into the mat. Mota covers... 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: He got him! Mota got him! Steve Manning is finally out of the contest, Soundbite! He was the first one to enter, but he lasted until the fourth battle before bowing out. SR: [sighing] One last time, Dross... Steve Manning thinks Chris Quigley is better than pond scum. Ergo and therefore, Steve Manning is nothing more than a pathetic piece of Quigley-come-lately. TD: Derek Mota now moves on to face the person who drew number six in the contest. [Manning heads to the locker room with a delirious grin on his face and the pack of cigarettes still in his tights. Derek Mota smiles smugly as Manning leaves, until the three words he dreads the most are broadcast throughout Wembley Stadium...] "OH YEAH! RIGHTEOUS!" [The doctored version of the Joan Jett classic, "We Love Rock'N'Roll" -- now "We Love Moxy Blue" -- starts up, and Stone comes out, pulling an oversized red Radio Flyer toy wagon. Sitting in the wagon is one Richard "Moxy" Blue, the partner of the unwilling Derek Mota. Stone quietly pulls Blue towards the ring as Blue tosses tennis balls to all of the nearby fans.] TD: Derek Mota's next opponent is his supposed tag team partner. SR: Well, Mota doesn't want to get stuck in tag teams, so he's going right for the breakup. I like that; it saves a lot of steps where you actually have to team up with someone. [Stone finally reaches ringside, and Blue hops up to the apron and over the ropes. He walks over to Mota with his arms open, attempting to hug his "partner". Mota decks him with a right fist, and the match begins. Ding! Ding! Ding!] Mota straddles Blue and begins pounding him continuously, then grabs Blue's hair and starts ramming the back of his head into the mat. The referee finally forces Mota to release the hair, allowing Blue to thumb Mota in the eyes. Blue gets to his feet, then legsweeps Mota and follows it up with an elbow to Mota's throat. Blue makes a cover, but doesn't get the one count.] TD: Mota is against one of the more unorthodox competitors in the IIWF in "Moxy" Blue. SR: Blue really is a strange little bird. Mota is tough and crazy. Even that Quigley freak Manning keeps trying to hurt you with his insanity. Blue's... he's just weird. [Blue gets to his feet, and whips Mota into the ropes. On the rebound, he lifts Mota up and nails him with a Hotshot. He drags Mota over to the ropes and wraps Mota's arms up into the ropes. As the referee tries to free Mota, Blue signals to Stone. The massive seven footer reaches into the wagon, pulls out a stapler, and tosses it to Blue. Blue catches it... looks at the stapler... and throws it back to Stone, shaking his head. Stone starts to pull another object out of the wagon, but Mota is freed, and catches Blue with a bodyslam. The crowd starts murmuring as a new figure appears.] SR: [sarcastically] Oh, look! What a surprise -- it's Luke Steele! Gee, I wonder what Luke is doing here? TD: Luke Steele has been trying to get Stone to join him lately, but Stone has seemed torn between working with Blue and working with Steele. SR: Oh, yeah. Give him a few beers, and Stone will talk your ear off about his problems. [Mota starts kicking away at Blue, then picks Blue up and tries to tie him in the ropes. Blue starts kicking in an attempt to escape, and Mota backs up a few steps, only to charge and clothesline Mota, sending both men over the top rope. Both men flip completely over and land on their feet, and begin slugging it out on the outside of the ring. Meanwhile, Luke keeps talking to Stone, who stands impassively while Luke is trying to lead him back to the locker room.] TD: Mota and Blue brawling all over outside the ring. The King of the Mountain has had several battles out of the ring, but there hasn't been a countout yet. SR: Hey, Alfonso's no dummy. Well... actually, he is. But even he isn't going to eliminate two of the wrestlers by countout unless he has to. [Mota and Blue continue to move around the outside of the ring, exchanging punches, kicks, and Irish whips to the guardrails. A vicious headbutt by Mota sends Blue sprawling... right next to the red wagon. Moxy reaches into the wagon, and as Mota pulls him up, Moxy lashes out and hits him with a ping-pong paddle upside the head. Mota is stunned long enough for Blue to uncork a dropkick onto Mota. He then turns around and starts screaming at Steele about Stone. He starts to head towards Steele, but seeing that Stone isn't leaving, Blue heads back into the ring and onto the top ropes.] TD: Blue can't worry about Steele. Even if he beats Mota -- and he only has just over two minutes to beat him -- he still has three other men to fight. SR: You're assuming Blue wants to win the match. I don't. I think he's just searching for the perfect Hollandaise Sauce. TD: [sighing] All right, I'll bite. What does wrestling have to do -- in any way -- with Hollandaise Sauce? SR: Well, I didn't say Blue was taking the direct route to get the recipe. [Blue is perched on the top turnbuckle, and as Mota gets to his feet, Blue launches off. He does a somersault and a half before crashing into Mota, sending both of them crashing into the red wagon. The referee lays in a count, and gets to four before Richard "Moxy" Blue gets to his knees, and gets to six before Blue is on his feet. Blue picks up Mota and rolls him into the ring, then slowly climbs up to the ring apron, then to the top turnbuckle. He leaps off with a corkscrew moonsault the solidly connects with Mota's upraised knees. As Blue rolls around in immense pain, Mota gets to his feet, picks up Blue, and plants him with a piledriver. He goes for a cover... 1 -- 2 -- kickout!] TD: Close, but no dice! [Mota grabs Blue by the hair and starts blasting him with fists. On the fifth blow, Blue escapes from Mota's clutches, and rolls out of the ring, towards Steele, Stone, and the wagon. He starts screaming at Steele again, telling him to leave, but Steele just grins and curses at Blue. Mota, seeing Blue distracted, starts to climb the turnbuckles. Blue keeps hollering at Steele, Stone stands impassively, Mota looks down at Blue and leaps... Blue steps to one side, and Mota comes down with a splash on the wagon!] TD: "Moxy" Blue set Derek Mota up! He played possum perfectly, and let Mota hurt himself with that risky maneuver. I guess Blue is smarter than he appears. SR: That doesn't take much. ["Moxy" Blue rolls Mota into the ring. He hops up to the apron and delivers a springboard splash before covering his tag team partner... 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: It's over! Mota has been eliminated! [Richard "Moxy" Blue raises his arms and starts hopping around like a ferret on crack as he advances to the ring. Derek Mota limps noticeably as he leaves the ring, but makes it to the back under his own power, muttering about Blue as heads back.] TD: Blue advances to face number seven. His last match was a wild affair... ["Hell's Bells", by AC/DC starts up, and "The Demon", Damien Lestat, starts walking down with Mr. Coolie under his arm.] SR: Ah, yes. Now things will get back to normal. [Lestat talks to Mr. Coolie as he heads down the ramp towards ringside. As he nears the ring, he spots Luke Steele, and the two men start hollering at each other. Luke Steele dares Lestat to hit him, and Lestat looks more than willing. This gives Richard Blue an opening, as "Moxy" dives off the ring apron and hits Lestat with a corkscrew plancha to the back. Lestat tumbles over, dropping Mr. Coolie in the process. Moxy kips up off the ground, then grabs Lestat's head and bulldogs him into the cement. He pauses a second to make sure Stone is still standing by his side, then grabs Lestat's head and rolls him under the ropes into the ring.] TD: Two of the strangest wrestlers in the IIWF facing each other right now. [Moxy goes for a pinfall, but Lestat gets a shoulder up, then grabs the much smaller Blue around the throat as he gets to his feet. He shoves Blue into the corner and rams his shoulder into Blue, then hits three reverse knife edges on Blue. A whip to the opposite corner is followed by an avalanche, and Blue collapses to the mat. A cover leads to a one count, and Lestat rolls out of the ring.] TD: Lestat going for Mr. Coolie. SR: And Stone is heading over to the red wagon. He'd be a great manager if he'd just shut up. [Lestat grabs Mr. Coolie and begins talking to him, asking for ideas. Stone is methodically moving items around the wagon, searching for something. Finally, Lestat opens up Mr. Coolie and pulls out a handheld mirror, then rolls into the ring.] SR: Lestat is going to show Moxy how bad his fashion sense is! It's the Mr. Blackwell Bomb! He's going after Blue with the Mr. Blackwell Bomb! Oh, the humanity! [Lestat grabs the mirror with one hand just as Stone tosses something into Blue's hands. Lestat rears back to nail Blue with the mirror... and Blue hits him with a clipboard to the throat. Lestat clutches his throat and gasps for air, giving Blue an opening to deliver a leg whip across Lestat's face. Blue bounces off the ropes and does a somersault flip onto Lestat, then covers for a count of: 1 -- 2 -- kickout! Blue stars to picks Lestat up, but "The Demon" knees him in the abdomen, then picks him up for a powerbomb... takes two steps towards the ropes... and just drops him over the ropes, onto the floor.] TD: "Moxy" Blue just powerbombed from ten feet in the air! He could have a broken back... SR: Nah. No force behind the blow. Lestat could only drop Moxy... he could slam him down. [Indeed, "Moxy" Blue is already rolling around on the ground. But he is in bad shape from the fall, and Lestat is quick to capitalize. Lestat climbs over the ropes onto the ring apron, measures himself... and leaps off with a legdrop onto Moxy. He rolls Moxy back into the ring, then climbs back in himself.] SR: "Moxy" is in trouble. Lestat's getting ugly on him, and I mean that in all senses. The way Lestat is hurting him, not even Prudential is going to cover Blue after this match. TD: Prudential covers everyone... they don't pay any claims, but they'll cover anyone. SR: I take it you're not happy with the IIWF medical health care plan. TD: You know anyone who is? SR: Shoot, Dross! Shoot! [The Soundbiters begins a "Shoot, Dross! Shoot!" chant, along with a "Prudential Sucks!" chant. Bitter ramblings about HMOs aside, Lestat whips Blue into the corner, charges after him... and misses a splash as Moxy drops and sits down, watching Lestat sail over his head and into the turnbuckle. Blue reaches over and lifts up Lestat's legs, and tosses the nearly three hundred pound Lestat over the ropes. Lestat manages to land on his feet... and is immediately sent to the mat with a plancha by "Moxy" Blue.] TD: Blue doing a tremendous job using his speed to nullify Lestat's size advantage. SR: Right now... but a big nutcase will always beat a little nutcase. [Moxy heads over to where Stone is standing, still careful to avoid Steele, and grabs Mr. Coolie. He opens up the cooler, and pulls out... a Polaroid camera. He walks back over to the groggy Lestat, screams "Cheese!" and takes his picture. Lestat swings wildly, but misses, and Moxy hits him with a superkick on the floor.] TD: Damien Lestat is blinded by the flash from the Polaroid. SR: I was blinded by the flash of a Polaroid once. TD: How was it? SR: Best weekend of my life. [Pauses] I've still got the photos... [Moxy rolls Lestat back in the ring, then enters himself. He whips Lestat into the ropes, and on the rebound lifts him up and hotshots him across the throat. Moxy covers... 1 -- 2 -- kickout! Moxy picks up Lestat by the hair again, pauding to wipe the grease on his trunks... and Lestat nails him with the mirror. Moxy falls to the mat, and Lestat tosses the mirror out of sight of the referee. Lestat picks up the minute Moxy, and piledrives him into the mat. He then points to the top turnbuckle, and starts climbing.] TD: He's signalling for the Hoof! SR: The hoof? He named his finsiher after the secret ingredient in Jello. TD: Yes. [Pause] There goes another sponsor. [Lestat gets to the top rope, grins at the entire crowd, leaps off with the flying elbowdrop... and connects squarely in Moxy's chest. He hooks the leg: 1 -- 2 --- Foot on the rope! And there, standing at ringside with a broad grin, is Luke Steele. TD: Steele just placed Blue's foot on the ropes! He broke the pinfall, and I don't think Blue would have kicked out. SR: Oh, goody. Luke "What's the Deal?" Steele just helped out Moxy Blue. TD: I think he was more interested in stopping Lestat than helping out Blue. [Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: What happened? Did Earl Alfonso disqualify Blue for Steele's interference. SR: It's Alfonso. Of course not. [Alfonso meets with Sparkplug for a quick conference. Then...] SL: Ladies and Gentlemen, the time limit have expired! Therefore, BOTH men are eliminated from the match! TD: Both men are gone! Both Moxy Blue and Damien Lestat ran out of time. [Lestat rolls out of the ring and immediately begins screaming at Steele, who grins at Lestat. That just infuriates "The Demon" even more, and he immediately tackles Steele. Blue gets to his feet, spots the brawl, and shouts "I want to play, too!", then launches himself out of the ring onto the other wrestlers.] TD: Luke Steele probably cost Damien Lestat the win. That leaves just our final two wrestlers to face each other, with the winner receiving the coveted shot at any title! SR: Whoop de doo. Waffle House takes on that murderer... TD: Ike Sampson is an outstanding representative of VP Osterhout's "Wrestle Clean!" program, and Eddy "Flap" Jacks has potential to become a huge superstar in the IIWF. SR: I'll give them this: it beats having Manning win the thing. [Alfonso decides to ignore the three-way brawl between Moxy Blue, Damien Lestat, and Luke Steele, as they have moved away from the ring. He signals for Sparkplug to announce the final contestants.] SL: Drawing number eight, hailing from North Carolina and weighing 315 pounds, here is IKE SAMPSON! ["Kiss" by Prince starts up, and Sampson walks down the aisle, pushing the wheelchair in which is seated the heavily bandaged Magnificent Carlitos. Huge, huge pop! He has a WRESTLE CLEAN! button on his jacket, and enters the ring ignoring the brawl, which is now far from the ring.] TD: Here's Ike Sampson -- and it's great to see the Magnificent Carlitos out here at ringside! SR: I can't actually see the old guy for all the bandages and casts, Dross. Musashi really did a number on him, didn't he? TD: Let's not talk about that, Steve Roberts. Dreadful, just terrible actions on the part of the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi. SL: And his opponent, drawing number nine weighing 398 pounds and hailing from Ottawa, Ontario... here is EDDY "FLAP" JACKS! [The "Dance of the Sugar-Plum Fairy" by Tchaikovsky begins, and the massive Eddy Jacks walks down to ringside. He steps up through the ropes and immediately begins assaulting Sampson. Ding! Ding! Ding! Jacks throws several punches at Sampson, who responds with some fists of his own. A right by Sampson misses, and allows Jacks to hit him with two quick lefts. But a haymaker by Jacks goes wide, and Sampson steps up and hiptosses Jacks to the mat, then applies an armbar.] TD: These are two of the strongest men in the IIWF. But Sampson cannot last exchanging fists with the former boxer; he has to outwrestle him. SR: Hell, he already did one move, which is more than Jacks can do. If he can three more, he'll confuse Waffle House enough to get the win. [From the outside, Carlitos does his best to shout encouragement. Jacks gets to his feet, and tries to move out of the armbar. But Sampson keeps the pressure and leverage on, and Jacks finally reaches over to the ropes to force the break. On the outside of the ring, Lestat and Steele are struggling over Mr. Coolie, while Moxy Blue is sitting on Stone's shoulders. He's borrowed some popcorn from some of the ringside fans, and seems to be cheering on both men brawling right in front of him.] SR: I'm surprised. We've got a halfway decent match going on now. Of course, it's not the one in the ring... but it'll do. It's better than most Luke Steele matches. [Sampson whips Jacks to the ropes, and shoulderblocks Jacks... who takes a step back but doesn't fall. He dares Sampson to try it again; Sampson bounces off the ropes and shoulderblocks Jacks, who again remains standing. He dares Sampson to do it a third time, and again Sampson bounces off the ropes. This time, Jack surprised him with a kick to the stomach, and follows it up with a massive powerbomb. He covers for a one count, then picks up Sampson, whips him to the ropes, and delivers a textbook powerslam on the rebound, then covers for another one count.] SR: Hey Drossie... what happens if these two hit the five minute mark? TD: The match would continue until there is just one winner. SR: Oh, goody. Just when I thought this might end soon. [Jacks puts his boot over Sampson's throat and stands on Sampson with all of his weight. The referee gets to a four count before he releases Sampson. Jacks lumbers off the ropes and jumps up to kneedrop Sampson, then covers again for a one count. Jacks drags Sampson over towards the corner, then steps up to the bottom rope. He bounces up once, then jumps off for a splash. Sampson rolls out of the way, and Jacks hits the mat. Sampson rolls over and applies a sitting full nelson on Jacks, but Jacks uses his foot to get to the ropes and forces a break. Jacks and Sampson each get to their feet, and Jacks raises his hands and dares Sampson for a test of strength. Sampson slowly raises his hands to meet the challenge, watching closely for any sign of treachery from Jacks.] TD: Two of the strongest men in the IIWF are about to lock up. SR: Oh sure, they both have muscles. But IHOP hasn't proven he has what it takes to be a champion. And Sampson has proven that he DOESN'T have what it takes... unless you're a poor woman in the subway system. Murderer! Murderer! [Sampson and Jacks faces each other, and slowly lock fingers, Jacks' right hand with Sampson's left. They go to lock up the other hand... and Jacks pulls back with his left hand, then rakes the face of Sampson. Three quick lefts from Jacks and "Flap" Jacks turns the locked hand into a armbar. He drives Sampson to the mat, then drives a knee into Sampson's shoulder, pulling back on the arm. Sampson hollers in pain, but gets to one knee and shakes his head when the referee asks for a submission. Jack picks up Sampson and slams him to the mat. An "Ike! Ike! Ike!" chant starts from the crowd of 80,000. On the outside of the ring, "Moxy" Blue and Luke Steele have formed an unlikely team to battle Damien Lestat, with Steele holding back Lestat to give Blue a free shot.] TD: Sampson's in trouble. Jack slaps on a sleeper hold, and Ike has almost four hundred pounds of pressure behind that sleeper. [As the "We Like Ike!" chant continues, the referee raises Ike's arm once. Ike keeps it up, and elbows Jacks once, twice... Jacks releases the sleeper only to pull Sampsons' beard and drives him to the mat, reapplying the sleeper. Ike immediately gets back to his knees, but this time a look of fury is on his face. Ike elbows Jacks four times to break out of the sleeper, then picks up Sampson and powerbombs him. Sampson gets to his feet and starts pounding Jacks with both fists.] SR: He's going to kill again! Jacks, get out! Sampson is going to kill you, then eat a hot dog, just like he did to that woman in Japan! Run! TD: Sampson has snapped! He's pummeling Jacks with a viciousness that we don't normally associate with him! [Sampson keeps hitting Jacks, then picking up Jacks' head and ramming it into the mat repeatedly. The referee tries to order Sampson off of Jacks, but Sampson ignores the referee. Sampson finally relents from the assault when the referee physically pulls Sampson off of the man. Sampson stares at Jacks as the referee admonishes him for his fists.] TD: Sampson just brutalized Eddy Jacks. I see blood coming from a cut over Jacks' eye, and he looks like he's been in a car wreck. [Sampson finally steps over to Jacks and makes a cover... 1 -- 2 -- kickout!] TD: Sampson waited too long to make the cover, and Jacks kicked out. SR: Guess who's coming back. [The brawl outside the ring, which has continued unabated throughout the match, heads back to ringside -- and now with the IIWF World Tag Team Champions, the Down Boys, embroiled in the battle! Big pop as the crowd notices Peterson and Oliver mixed up in the fight!] TD: Oh my! The Down Boys are out here! SR: What the heck are _they_ doing in this fight? TD: I guess you could call the Down Boys and "Moxy" Blue friends, in their way... and the World Tag Team Champions are out here to lend their support! [Damien Lestat picks up Moxy Blue and rams him into the guardrail, then drops him to tackle Luke Steele, who is wielding Mr. Coolie. Inside the ring, Ike Sampson gets Eddy Jacks to his feet, then lifts him up in a gorilla press slam.] TD: Ike Sampson has almost four hundred pounds above his head! That's incredible! [Sampson is struggling with the weight, though. He takes a step to keep his balance, and tries to slam Jacks, but instead Jacks falls on top of Sampson, and ends up in a pinning position... 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! Sampson kicks out, but both men are nearly exhausted. Sampson and Jacks both get to their feet at about the same time Moxy Blue climbs up to the ring apron to dive onto Lestat and Steele, who are fighting over Mr. Coolie. As the referee goes over to Blue to order him down, Jacks charges at Sampson with a clothesline. Sampson ducks, and Jacks charges into the corner. Blue dives off the ropes onto the other wrestlers, causing Mr. Coolie to fly in the air... ...and hit the head of Eddy "Flap" Jacks. Jacks stumbles out of the corner, and Sampson doubles him over with a kick, then picks up both arms...] TD: Deep Freeze! Sampson just drives Jacks into the canvas! Here's the cover... [Alfonso drops to the canvas and makes the count: 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding! Huge pop as "Kiss" kicks in over the PA once more! Earl Alfonso raises Sampson's arm as Sparkplug Lee makes it official.] SL: The winner of the "King of the Castle" match... IKE SAMPSON! [Sampson raises both of his arms, clearly exhausted but soaking in the cheers from all of the fans. Jacks rolls out of the ring, spots Mr. Coolie on the floor, being picked up by Lestat... and immediately jumps Lestat.] TD: Jacks attacking Damien Lestat for costing him the "King of the Mountain" match. Both men are brawling with each other. Lestat is much more tired than Jacks, but he is using Mr. Coolie as a weapon. [Jacks and Lestat continue to brawl as they fight up the ramp and head towards the locker room. Ike Sampson walks around the ring, pushing Carlitos' wheelchair, and slapping hands with several fans as he walks back to the locker room to celebrate.] TD: A great win for the spokesperson for the "Wrestle Clean" program, Ike Sampson. SR: Great. Now let's just clean up the debris. [He points to ringside, where Richard "Moxy" Blue sits on the ring apron and Luke Steele slowly stands after their brawl with Lestat. Stone stands to one side impassively, as always. Blue, battered and slightly bleeding over his left eye, slumps over the commentators table in a fit of frustration and exhaustion, obviously fighting to prevent passing out.] SR: Get Moxy Vomit outta my site! I'm too young for bifocals! [Blue stumbles around the table as the five men, now in the ring, continue to brawl, not seeming not to care who they hit. Blue falls to his knees, and grabs Tim Dross's coat tails, a look of anguish in his normally ecstatic eyes, as he attempts to regain his footing.] TD: Mr. Blue, please... [Blue plonks down on the table and grabs a microphone. He falls into a semi-seated position, microphone to his lips, and tears in his eyes. The camera can still hear the grunts and slams from the ring as it focuses on Blue's slightly bloodied face, as internal struggles seem to wage war between his young eyes. His emotions become harder and harder to read, but one soon becomes able to determine a clear emotion. An emotion Blue has never shown in his wrestling career. He has been many things, from crazed, to happy to confused to downright depressed....but he has never been truly... Angry. Blue eyes flare like a man of war, his body tenses and the noises surrounding him of pain, hate and cowardice finally get under his skin and right to his soul as he bellows the word that seems the least likely to have any effect right now:] RMB: STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPP! [Steele continues to wail on Mota while the Down Boys hold Stone down and pound on him, Awesome T brandishes his Jay Buhner autograph model baseball bat...] RMB: [anger receding, intensity not] STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP! SR: Stop yelling in the mic! My beautiful ears! TD: This is crazy. [Mota gets to his feet and throws Steele onto the DB/Stone pile... crowd pop! Awesome T gets in the ring with the bat, ready to defend god knows who...] RMB: [Sheer anguish, almost crying] STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP! [Adam Peterson crawls out from underneath the pile and rolls out of the ring, looking at Mox in concern. Mota stops and stares with contempt at Mox, now lying on the cold concrete, yelling over and over again into the mic. Steele pulls Stone away from Oliver.] RMB: [Almost hoarse] St-st-stooooooop...... [All five men finally calm down to look at what they've done to the young Cajun. The Down Boys and Stone look especially upset, while Mota and T are slightly disgusted. Steele still wants to fight, and makes a move towards Mota. Mota blocks him off.] SR: This is pretty weird stuff, Dross. TD: I think that's the only way to put it, Steve. SR: Damnit, stop agreeing with me. You know how I hate that. [The crowd, who had previously been all for this chaos, are slowly falling deadly silent.] TD: This has been building up for awhile. Whatever it is, I have no clue... RMB: [Almost a whisper] St-st-st-stooop.... SR: Aw, kick him, will ya, Dross buddy? Get him off our table. [Peterson goes over and brings Mox to his feet, taking the mic from him and helping him regain his composure. Mox motions for him to take him in the ring. Peterson obliges and rolls him under the bottom rope gingerly. Moxy gets up and sits in the corner, motioning for Peterson to return the mic, who does. Peterson goes back to Oliver and they exchange unheard words of concern. Awesome T joins the pow-wow, not looking pleased. Steele finally calms down, and shouts out "What's wrong, little boy Blue?", and Mota goes and sits in the opposite corner, staring intently at Moxy.] TD: Look at Derek Mota... what could possibly... [Blue interrupts, panting. He runs his fingers through barely blue hair.] RMB: Guys... we can resume this carnage later if you want. All I ask is that you let me speak. I'm not a talkative guy. It won't take long. But this is important. I've been thinking about it for a long time. A _long_ time. And now it's time for you to hear it. SR: I knew it. He's gay. RMB: This is what they all want. This is what Spreads wants. This is what Petrow wants. This is what Musashi wants. This is what the fans want. Or is it? [Steele throws Stone a confused yet apathic look. Stone obviously doesn't return the look, and Steele walks towards the ropes, looking down at Moxy with eyes more inquisitive than angry.] RMB: Look at us! Do you know what we are? Have you ever really, I mean REALLY thought about it? In this ring right is ninety-nine per cent of the true talent in IIWF. The other one per cent is Sparkplug Lee... and what do we do when we get together? We fight. And fight. And over what? Who guards who? Who hates who? Who is tagging or managing who? What direction everyone is headed? Who gives a [BLEEP]?! [Crowd gasps! The fans follow the gasp with a HUGE pop! The contingent in the ring looks incredulously at Moxy, none more surprised than Luke Steele, who's rarely sworn on camera himself.] TD: I've watched this lad since the beginnings of his career, and the most uncouth thing I ever heard him say is "poopy". Either he's dead serious or he's really trying to relate to these misfits. SR: My gosh... the l'il guy swore! [Across the ring, after a month of doing noting but beating Blue... Mota finally cracks a smile. His first smile in a very very long time. He quickly hides it...] RMB: Follow me on this, guys... [Blue, feeling a bit better, uses the ropes to get back on his feet.] RMB: The entire Double Eye is a danged hurricane right now. We can be swept away by it... or we can live in the eye. For the eye of the hurricane is the only safe place. TD: I'm not sure I like where this is heading. RMB: We can continue to fight like this... [Mox pounds the top of his fists together.] RMB: Or we can fight... like this. [Blue places his fists side by side and makes punching motions. Steele catches on and nods, starting to crack a smile a little. Still, he glares at Moxy from in the ring, and taps his thigh as a reminder of the baseball slide waterbucket dropkick from last week.] RMB: I mean, if you guys want, we can pretend I never said anything... [Blue's eyes gleam with mischief... or is it cunning?] RMB: ...no pressure. But look. [Mox goes over to Steele, walking slowly, and diligently. Steele crosses his arms in opposition, and he can be heard saying "Don't take another step, Ritalin boy". Mox obliges, raising his hand in an "okay okay" fashion.] RMB: Luke. You want my buddy Stone. SR: There's a mental picture for ol' Quigs at home. TD: Steve Roberts, ladies and gentlemen. RMB: If we work together, then we don't have to fight anymore. You get Stone and me. LS: What makes you think I'll go for that, Blue? Why, when I can simply beat the hell out of you and claim Stone on my own? I'm the hottest damn wrestler in the IIWF, South Laredo, New Jersey and Baltimore. Hell, make that round the world [the crowd boos]. I've already kicked your ass, Moxy Blue. What incentive is there to carry you on my back? And I mean that literally, considering your entrances. [Heel pop!] RMB: Luke, I'm not saying you need us... I'm saying we need you. If I hadn't felt the floating DDT myself, I wouldn't give a frag about who you hit with it. Here's some more incentive... [Blue beckons with his finger for Stone to approach. Stone agrees and stands imposingly behind Blue.] RMB: Stone's services are not something to be bought and sold like bubble gum cards. He is a man, contrary to his monstrous nature. So I'll ask him... Stone... who would you rather work for, me or Mr. Steele? [Stone says nothing, not even acknowledging with a single movement.] RMB: Can't decide. How about both? Does that sound good? [Stone does the incredible... and nods.] SR: Moxy swears, Mota smiles and Stone communicates! This is insane! TD: I think he had a crick in his neck. Or maybe a nervous tic. RMB: Well, if you want him, Steele, ya got two options. Kill me -- or join me. [Moxy sticks out his hand. Crowd pop, many fans saying "Do it!" as this might mean a possible Steele change of heart. The DB's and T talk amongst themselves excessively, and Mota remains stoic in the corner. Steele thinks for awhile, and almost looks poised to use his now famous Floating DDT on Moxy rather than shake his hand. But as the crowd senses what he's going to do and starts to rock the stadium with boos, Steele smiles, and grabs the mic instead.] LS: Nah, you ain't worth the effort of killing. Doubt I could find it in my schedule, Moxy doll. You want to walk along side the "Real Deal"? You want to walk alongside the hottest damn wrestler on this or any side of the planet? As long as the Real Deal doesn't have to give up his first born, shave this damn good looking head and dye it blue, or start giving a damn what Roberts over there thinks, then count me in. SR: You hear that, Dross? That no-talent, one-move wonder tried to insult me! TD: He _did_ insult you, Steve. [Steele grabs Moxy's hand in a firm handshake! Moxy winces as the crowd pops madly!] TD: Luke Steele and Richard Blue! This is... oh, wait! [Blue, feeling alot better, walks defiantly over to the Down Boys, shoving Awesome T out of the way! Crowd pop! T shoves Moxy back!] RMB: This doesn't involve you. This involves someone who appreciates these guys. AT: You got another thing coming, Blue Boy. You know your theatre. You don't consult an actor... you consult an agent, 'cause sometimes the actor doesn't know what's best for him. And I know what you're going to ask -- and the answer is "no". The Down Boys don't need you. [Peterson and Oliver get upset at this and move to the mic.] DO: Hey, T, maybe the Moxman needs us. AT: He just wants the prestige of the tag team champions at his back. AP: Mox was behind us all the way, no matter how low we sank! AT: Mr. Blue, I needed you for something to obtain our goal, winning the IIWF World Tag Team Championships. We did that, and now... now, you're no longer useful to us... RMB: [interrupting] Maybe not. But you guys are targets now, and it ain't safe to be a tag team no more. I want to see those belts around your waists 'til a team that is beyond all doubt better then you comes along. I've yet to meet one. [Crowd pop!] DO: What about what we want, T? Let's go back to your agent analogy. You don't put Oscar winners in porn movies. AP: Well, except maybe Sharon Stone.... RMB: Did she ever win it? [T looks extremely annoyed.] AT: Focus boys... the analogy is rotten anyways. RMB: No, but they are right... don't you respect them enough to allow them at least decide what _direction_ their careers go? Or are you just living out broken dreams through them? AT: Broken dreams, huh? Heh... you see this? [T pulls up his right leg of his baggy jeans to reveal a large knee brace.] AT: I was the top student in the dojo... the gaijin wasn't supposed to amount to anything, but I worked my ass off and if it weren't for _this_, I'd be whippin' your ass from pillar to post right now. Hell, I could still deliver a shooting star press right now if I wanted to. [Blue just stares at T as the manager angrily looks back at Moxy.] AT: I could, ya know. [Blue continues to stare. Both Down Boys look at Awesome T, who has yet to respond to Moxy's underlying question. Peterson and Oliver glare with a "Well?" look. T shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair. Looking at the mat, he responds.] AT: Give me one good reason why I should. [Blue gives T a look of absolute sincerity.] RMB: Because I may be a man with alot of emotion, but I'm not a thinker. I'm not a planner. We need a thinker. You said you wanted to manage a singles competitor. How about three? [Moxy looks to Stone. Steele starts to nod his head in agreement, and gives the universal sign for "I should be wearing a belt, dammit".] RMB: Or four? [Long pause, Moxy finally extends his hand.] TD: I can't believe what's happening here. SR: Moxy swore! Mota smiled! Film at eleven! [Awesome looks down at Moxys hand, and back to the Down Boys, and back to Moxy's hand. Peterson moves forward and shakes it, Oliver follows suit. T looks at the Down Boys again, shakes his head again, and shakes Moxy's hand! HUGE POP! Moxy walks over to Mota in the corner, a look of near sorrow in his eyes.] RMB: Say what's on your mind, Dirk. [Moxy drops the mic in the seated Mota's lap. Big pop! Mota just stares at the mic for a moment, and then picks it up to speak.] DM: [Looking at the ground] I don't like you, Blue. [Heel pop!] DM: I never did. Both of us are men who live in the spotlight. But you... you taint it. You make me sick. As long as I'm forced to be around you, I'm gonna make your life hell. Count on it. I've been doing it since you first stepped in a wrestling ring. And I'll keep doing it. [Mox looks away, saddened. He goes and retrieves the mic, about to say something, deciding rather to toss it aside. He looks down at Mota, who, taking objection to the symbolism, arises and looks down on Blue in a staredown of intimidation vs. empathy. Blue steps back and extends a hand in what may be unrelated to all his rants. Perhaps a hand of friendship. Mota replies with a slap in the face that can hardly be heard, though the emotional impact rips through the audience. HUGE HEEL POP!] TD: I have to commend Blue on this, but Mota just broke Moxy's hopes to bits with that one slap. [Blue shakes his head and, to a large confused pop, points to... his other cheek.] TD: Blue is turning the other cheek, like some biblical martyr! SR: I hear he turned some cheeks at Leavenworth. Can we get on with some wrestling now, Dross? Can we do the soap opera later? [Mota looks at Mox, who now has his eyes closed in anticipation of being beaten again. Blue's hand trembles as he continues to point to his left cheek, biting his lower lip. Mota, for some reason or another, is affected by this. He looks at Moxy as if staring at himself at a young picture of himself in a photo album. The crowd is just going quiet when Mota quickly grabs Mox's unlifted hand and shakes it for the BIGGEST pop yet, letting go as soon as possible and turning around in disgust at himself!] TD: I never thought I'd see that! This is just... just. I can't describe it. SR: It's "The Days Of Our Lives," Dross. I saw this episode once. Next, Moxy's gonna get shot. [Mox opens his eyes. He picks up the discarded mic in the middle of the ring. Mox stares at vast unknown, a look of contemplation and hope in his eyes. Through all of this, his personalty underwent a vast change, but suddenly, he cracks that wild smile, that happy posture... as if nothing had happened. Luke Steele is the only other man in the ring moving other than Moxy, and he's now standing behind Moxy the same as Stone, towering over Moxy like a middle child protecting his family and younger sibling. The Down Boys look at T and smile, and after some thought... T lets out a smirk of his own.] RMB: So, I guess that's it! OH YEAH, RIGHTEOUS! We live in chaos! We thrive on entropy! We are the big ol' bag of marshmallows staining the antique fireplace of tradition! We are the harbingers of discord! [Dan Oliver struts up to Mox, soaking up cheers that are gradually developing and sticks his head in the range of the mic. Peterson saunters up after him. T watches his cohorts go to work:] DO: [In his famous Dusty Rhodes Impression] Discordiacs, if you weeeeel. RMB: Discordiacs... I like it. WHAT DO YOU GUYS THINK?! [CROWD POP with a near unanimous "YEAH!"!] RMB: DISCORDIACS IT IS, AND DISCORDIACS WE SHALL BE! SR: As I said... this is pretty freakin' weird, right here. TD: The Down Boys, Luke Steele, Derek Mota and Richard "Moxy" Blue? The implications of this are unthinkable! RMB: HIT DA MUSIC! ["Super Bon Bon" by Soul Coughing starts up and the rag tag group leave the ring, the crowd going nuts! Blue leaps around, slapping fans' hands with gusto, leading the way into the, well... future! Steele makes a "bring it on" motion, getting more positive reactions then he's used to and seemingly enjoying it for the first in a long time. The Down Boys and T revert back to their usual wacky selves, pointing to the crowd, while Mota and Stone walk without emotion, without betraying their thoughts, though they seem to acknowledge the fans.] TD: I... I... guess we have to go to the next match. Discordiacs... good heavens. Who knows what this development means for the future of these competitors, Steve Roberts? Perhaps we'll get a better idea as the night goes on -- we'll see Luke Steele in action in just a little while when he battles Christopher Stonebreaker in a Waterbucket Match, and the Down Boys, of course, will be defending their IIWF World Tag Team Championships in the Seven Tables of Fear match later tonight! SR: Discordiacs? Sounds like a Saturday morning cartoon show. TD: Regardless of the name, there's quite some talent assembled in that unit, Steve Roberts -- and the rest of the IIWF may well be set on its ear by this alliance! Folks, later on tonight, we'll see Deathbringer in action in a Ladder Match, as he attempts to regain the coveted mask that was stolen from him several weeks ago by Harlequin Tragedy. I understand that Dave Bacon is backstage, and will try to get a few words with Deathbringer. Dave? [Cut to a darkened corridor. The crowd noise coming from the arena sounds as if it is miles away. Dave Bacon stands in the foreground of the shot, cast in long shadows.] DB: Thanks, Tim. I'm here in the deepest recesses of the locker room area. Deathbringer requested his own locker room as far away from the rest of the athletes as possible -- but I'm hoping to get some comments from the former IIWF World Champion ahead of his match with Tragedy. Take a look at this. [The camera moves over to a door which has blood-stained writing on it, reading, "DEATH IS JUST THE BEGINNING".] DB: Pretty chilling stuff. Let's go in. [The door swings open and the camera enters the room, where Deathbringer himself is sitting in front of a monitor which shows various scenes from several matches in which Deathbringer had participated and in which he was jumped behind from someone. The scenes include the "Outlaw" J.W. Hardin bashing Deathbringer with a chair during the Casket Match against Otto Verhoeven, Requiem and his comrades battering down the Dark Destroyer with fire-extinguishers, and the Coroner and the Masters Of Pain putting the motionless body of Deathbringer into a casket in the mortuary. The scenes repeat again and again, faster and faster, as Deathbringer suddenly jumps up, throws the monitor to the floor and turns around. He notices the camera and makes a threatening, growling noise which causes Bacon the camera man to leave the locker room as fast as possible.] DB: I'm getting out of here! Back to you at ringside! [Bacon hurriedly leaves the shot. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: Oh my! Deathbringer clearly looking to the past to prepare himself for tonight's huge match, Steve Roberts. It's time for our next match, folks -- and what a match it is. Timothy N. Turner is scheduled to meet Andrew Macbeth in a wild, falls count anywhere Highland Brawl! What can we say about this one? SR: Easy, anything and everything that can happen will happen. Especially with the family here. [On cue, the camera view changes to show the Glenfinnan crowd standing, cheering for themselves as they realise they're being shown on the jumbotron, before it refocuses on Dross and Roberts.] TD: Well, Andrew will have his cheering section here tonight, but as we all know, it looks like Turner is in this one alone, as the Northpac Coalition were ambushed as they came into Wembley Stadium just a short while ago, as we showed you on the Free For All. SR: And now the Rocket Man has to prove that he can do this all on his own. TD: Indeed, and what a challenge to do it with. In the Highland Brawl match, and one that definitely has to favour the big man. Let's get up to Sparkplug Lee for the introductions! ________ ______ ..........................| || |\ \ /\ / /| __|......................... | || | \ v v / | __| |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| HIGHLAND BRAWL: "Rocket Man" Timothy N. Turner vs. Andrew Macbeth ........................................................................ WRITER: Mark Stone [The camera then changes the view up to the ring, where Sparkplug Lee is standing by with the microphone in his hand.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, this match is scheduled for one fall, and it is a HIGHLAND BRAWL match. There are no disqualifications, no countouts, and a pinfall may be registered anywhere within the stadium! [The crowd pops at the thought of a hardcore matchup.] TD: The crowd definitely ready for more fighting, you have to wonder how much they're going to see. SR: Well, if Turner's smart, none. But then again, this is Turner we are talking about. SL: And now, hailing from Victoria, British Columbia, Canada... and weighing in at 230 pounds... Tim Turner! [The expected Elton John song doesn't boom forth from the speakers. There is a pause as many fans look upwards trying to spot the flying figure of the Rocket Man. Finally all speculation is put to rest as Tim Turner strides through the curtains with a confident demeanour that has not been present in weeks. Turner is wearing rugged looking denim jeans and work boots. This is accompanied by a plaid Mackinaw (lumberjack) shirt with a white t-shirt peeking out from underneath it. The fans loudly express their displeasure towards the fallen Canadian.] SR: What the hell is this? Doesn't Turner know that this is the big show? Where's the rocket pack? Where's the theme music? Where's the Von Edward sisters? TD: You heard the announcement, Steve Roberts! We're not seeing the Rocket Man here tonight! We're not even seeing TNT! We're seeing Tim Turner! Maybe for the first time! SR: And the last. What is he honestly thinking? [Turner continues his walk down toward the ring along the metal walkway and he just glances around at the crowd, as they continue their negative response to the Canadian.] SL: And his opponent, hails from Glenfinnan, Scotland, and weighs in at 316 pounds, ladies and gentlemen, this is ANDREW MACBETH!!! [The English crowd pops, but even more so from the Glenfinnan contingent, and out of the back steps the figure of the big man, who comes out with his hands over head, and the camera returns to show a shot of one of the Glenfinnan clan, former CRL tag champion and colleague of the Macbeths, Black Angus Macbeth waving a Scottish flag overhead.] TD: The nationalism is running high for this matchup, and it's all on the shoulders of Macbeth. SR: They should be broad enough to carry them, I suppose. [The camera then returns the shot to Macbeth who makes his way down the ramp, and the blue-tighted Scotsman makes his way to the squared circle, and after glancing around the ring, steps over the top rope and into the ring to face off with Turner, and Sanders gets between the two men as the bell sounds.] SR: Just get out of the way, and let them go at it. TD: Your sentiments probably match quite a few people's around here right now. SR: It's a civilised country, that's why. When Soundbite talks, he talks for all of England. [Turner circles around the ring, circling his arms as if he's setting up what to do, but finally decides to attempt a lock up with the big man. Turner is shoved off by Andrew, and rolls himself over and back up to a crouched position. Turner looks at Sanders, but doesn't say anything to the official and goes back for the lockup. Andrew, set for another collar and elbow tie up starts to oblige, but Turner catches the man with a quick knee, before driving the man headfirst into the turnbuckle padding, but Macbeth just stands himself back up, and smiles at Turner, and the crowd lets out a huge pop for the Scot.] TD: Big mistake there by Tim. [Andrew then grabs Turner by the head and fires him off face first into the padding, and unlike Turner's attempt, this one has much more effect, as the Canadian drops to one knee back in the centre of the ring. Macbeth follows up behind the man and spins him around, and scoops the man up, holding him over his shoulder, as the crowd pops once again. Andrew literally tosses Turner off the shoulder, and right into a shoulder breaker over the knee of the Scot before dropping him the remainder of the way to the mat. Macbeth drops down for a simple cover, as the official falls into position.] TD: One! Two... No. Easy kickout by Turner. [Macbeth gets up to his feet, and brushes his hands off, before pulling Turner up to a vertical stance, and Macbeth fires off a headbutt that draws another pop from the crowd. Macbeth however, refuses to release Turner, and fires off a second headbutt that wobbles the Canadian, before the big man finally releases him. Turner remains on his feet, though, until Macbeth floors the man with a short lariat. Andrew then pulls Turner up to his feet, and drives the man toward the ropes, and fires him through the cables out to the platform, and the crowd immediately erupts at the first sign of the match taking a turn toward the extreme side. Macbeth steps over the ropes on the ring apron, and as Turner struggles to pull himself up, the big man drops a hammering axehandle down on the man's head. Macbeth pulls Turner back up to his feet once again, and nails the man with a vicious soupbone of a right hand, staggering Turner yet again. However, after he wobbles for a moment, Turner comes right back and nails the big man with a shot of his own to the face. The blow is less than effective however, as Macbeth grabs Turner by the hair, and drives him face first toward the steel pole.] Turner has other plans it seems, as he gets a foot up on the pole to stop the attempt, and Timothy reverses the drive, and it's the Scot who goes hard into the cold metal. Turner repeats the manoeuvre, sending Macbeth into the material yet again, before launching the man under the ring ropes and back into the squared circle. Turner heads up the steps, and begins to climb the ropes as Andrew gets back to his hands and knees, trying to shake off the impact of the actions of Turner. Turner gets to the top rope as Macbeth gets up to a standing position, and as the big man turns around, Turner connects with a flying forearm, dropping the Scot down to the canvas.] TD: Turner with an early high risk manoeuvre, and a cover! One... Two... And Macbeth using some power to kick out of that one! [Macbeth is able to kick out, nearly tossing Turner all the way across the ring, and Andrew sits himself up. Turner, already back up to his feet bounces himself off the ropes, and as Andrew turns around to rise all the way up, he is met by the work boot of Turner right in the jaw. Andrew is then pushed up to his feet by the smaller wrestler, and a trickle of blood can be seen coming out from the busted lip of the Scotsman.] TD: Oh my! Macbeth is busted open early on here in this one! SR: Yeah! We gots the juice, baby dolls! Freshly squeezed! [Turner fires Andrew off across the ring, and another shot from his boot, this time to the midsection bends Macbeth over, and Timothy locks in a front face lock, and tries to pick the big man up in a suplex. Macbeth however, has no desire to go over, and he blocks the suplex attempt, before responding by lifting Turner up himself in a suplex, and then drops him gut first on the top rope, straddling the man there. Macbeth then rebounds himself of f the ropes and as Turner pulls himself up to look up, he is met by a hard clothesline that takes both wrestlers right back out of the ring to a huge pop from the crowd. Turner and Andrew struggle to get up to their feet, but it's Andrew first who gets up, and the Scot grabs the head of turning and drives him face first into the platform. Macbeth rolls Turner over and lands across him for a cover, as Sanders dives out of the ring to start a count.] TD: One! Two! Thr... Kickout again by Turner! Turner just refusing to go down here. [Macbeth pulls Turner right back up to his feet, and drives the man along the walkway, before scooping him up and dropping him head first on the railing there at the ramp, before turning to the Glenfinnan crowd, and roaring something at them in the Celtic tongue. Turner pulls himself over and the blood can be seen running down his forehead and he tries to wipe away some of it before pulling on the railing to get to his feet.] SR: Aw, Dross, a double helping! Whoo-hoo! TD: Turner is badly busted open here, folks. A very nasty cut, by the looks of things. [Andrew turns himself back around, and pulls Turner back out to the centre of the ramp by one leg. The big Scot then attempts a step over toe hold, and pushes down to force Turner's shoulders to the walkway. Sanders, right there to start the count, doesn't even get to begin the attempt, as Turner reaches up and thumbs the man right in the eye to break the hold, and Macbeth staggers back to the far railing.] The blood is pouring out of the forehead of Turner, and the Canadian is forced to wipe even more of it away, brushing it against his shirt. Turner pulls himself up to his feet, and tries to push Andrew over the walkway railing to the ground down below.] TD: He can't...I mean.... [Macbeth, however, decides not to go over, and stops the attempt with an elbow to the forehead, and Turner stumbles to the centre of the walk once again. Macbeth turns himself around, and tries to bring down a big axehandle to the back of Turner, but Timothy catches the big man with a forearm smash to the midsection, and plants the Scotsman with a quick DDT. Timothy looks around at the crowd who are roaringly loud at the moment, obviously wanting more violence, and Turner decides to oblige as he rips off his flannel shirt, and wraps it around the throat of Macbeth from behind and begins pulling away on the material to a surprisingly good pop from the fans.] TD: Turner pulling out all the stops now! SR: Anything goes as I recall. That is what we read in the contract, right? [Turner continues to choke away with the shirt, as the Scotsman tries to pull himself up with the walkway railing. Turner allows Macbeth to get up to his knees, but refuses to let the chokehold with the shirt go. Andrew even tries grabbing at the official to force some kind of break, but the referee manages to stay out of the big man's reach. A quick stomp to the back of the leg of Andrew follows by Turner, followed by a second and a third, but Macbeth, struggling for air, seems to take no notice, and the big Scot out of desperation, grabs Turner and connects with a quick jawbreaker to the head, forcing the man to relinquish the choke hold, and sends Turner back along the walkway further from the ring. Andrew drops to his hands and knees, and pulls the shirt from around his throat, and fires it down the ramp, and tries to get his wind back. Sanders not sure what to do starts a count on the two downed men as neither seems willing to get back to the fight at the moment.] TD: Both men absolutely exhausted here, Steve Roberts! SR: Come on, boys! Bleed for Poppa Soundbite! [The Scotsman pulls himself up finally to a wobbly vertical stance and makes his way over to Turner, and pulls the man up to his feet, but only for a moment before throwing him back up the walkway toward the ring platform. Turner rolls up to a seated position, and as Macbeth moves in, he plants a boot to the back of the head of Turner, snapping the man forward then back on to the hardwood. Macbeth makes his way over to the steps and makes his way up to the ring apron before launching himself off with a mammoth elbow, but Turner rolls out of the way, and the huge crack of Macbeth hitting the platform is heard. Turner struggles over to the far steps and pulls himself up, and the Scot tries to get up to his feet as well. Turner makes his way over to the big man, and kicks the leg out from under him as he gets up to his feet, and begins to stomp away on the knee of the Scotsman.] TD: Turner here, trying to do some damage to Macbeth's knee. He's just merciless in there! [Turner then grabs the leg of Macbeth, and applies a step over toe hold of his own on the man and drives a knee into the back of the leg of the Scotsman, and Andrew lets out a howl of pain. The official drops down to check the shoulders of the Scot, but Macbeth never gives him the opportunity, pushing a shoulder off the hard surface instantly. The Canadian continues to drive the knee into the back of the leg of Macbeth, stopping long enough to stretch the leg out, and driving lifting himself up into a nearly vertical handstand before dropping his knees down on the leg of Andrew. Turner gets up to his feet, and points to the ringsteps, and waits for the crowd pop to grow, before pulling Andrew over toward them.] TD: Oh my! What's Turner planning here? SR: Snap it like a twig, Cheesecake! Whoo-hoo! [Andrew then has his leg extended over the bottom step, and Turner drops all his weight on the Scots extended leg. Macbeth pulls the leg back instinctively, and clutches at the knee with his hands. Turner kicks away at the leg of Macbeth before wrapping it up around him and dropping another elbow down on the man. Turner flashes four fingers, and then wraps up the leg of Macbeth in a figure four on the platform. Macbeth starts screaming away for all to hear, and the crowd starts a "Andrew" chant going, loudest from among the Scottish and the Glenfinnan fans in particular.] TD: Sanders asking if Macbeth is ready to give in yet, but Macbeth still trying to fight back! [Macbeth tries to get behind the eruptions from the crowd, and the native of Glenfinnan tries to push himself over out of the figure four, but Turner continues to try to fight, and Macbeth starts to pump the fist in the air, when he gets the man halfway over.] TD: They're too close to the edge! If he gets this turned over! That's a ten foot drop minimum! [Macbeth, continues to push with everything he's got and he gets a little help from the fact that he pushes the two men right over against the edge of the platform, and Turner realising where he's at has to break the figure four, but as he does so, Andrew catches the man with a free boot to the chest, and Turner is sent tumbling off the platform, and literally drops over the edge.] TD: HOLY MOTHER OF... [The crowd gives an enormous pop as Turner is just able to grab a foot of Macbeth's before going all the way over, and hangs on dangling off the ground, holding on to Andrew to make sure he doesn't fall totally free.] SR: You can look now Drossy, he's still in one piece. At the moment anyway. [Macbeth starts to kick away with his weakened leg to try to break the hold of Turner, as the wrestler pulls himself back up toward the platform. Unable to break the hold Turner has on his foot, Andrew then catches the man with a kick square to the head of Turner, and "Rocket Man" drops back down off the platform, but this time, pulling Macbeth with him as an unexpected side effect. Macbeth lands on top of Turner, and both men are near motionless yet again as the referee races down the rampway, and has to leap over the railing toward the bottom to insure not having to run through the crowds. It takes a few moments for Sanders to get down to the two men, and when he does so, he rolls over in position for a count, as Macbeth rests on top of Turner.] TD: ONE! TWO! THRE...NO!! Turner rolling a shoulder up!! I don't think either of them know where they're at right now, but Turner pulling himself together long enough to stay in the match! [Turner pulls himself out from under Macbeth, and the crowd lets out an even louder pop at the endurance of the man, and Turner rests himself for a moment against one of the pillars under ringside clutching at his ribs. Macbeth rolls over and pulls himself back up to his feet, as Turner is still trying to recover against the pillar, and the Scot helps Turner up to his feet, before driving the man backwards into the pillar with a shoulder into the midsection.] SR: I wonder if they ever heard of the story of Samson and Delilah? TD: Macbeth doing his best to either break that pillar or break Turner in the process! How can he see what he's doing down there?! [Macbeth repeats the shoulderdrive, and then pulls Turner out from under the ring, in the near darkness of the Wembley Stadium, and takes the man over toward the makeshift bleachers, and drives the head of Turner down on the lower empty sets of bleachers head first before scooping the man up and slamming him down on the seats.] TD: He's out to kill the man! [Macbeth then climbs up the side steps of the seats, and drops an elbow down on the chest of the man, and Turner slumps between the rows of seats. The wrestler pulls Turner out of the predicament he's in, and fires the man over the edge of the seats back down on the grass of the Stadium, before leaping himself over the edge, and landing a double stomp down on top of Turner.] TD: Macbeth dropping down for a cover again! ONE!! TWO!! THRE..NO!!! Again, Turner trying to keep fighting in this! [Turner rolls over on his side, and spits up a bit of blood before Macbeth pulls the man up and leads him, with a handful of hair, toward one of the ground level entrances. After entering the tunnel, Macbeth pulls the man up and sets him up by putting the man's hands between his own legs, and Macbeth hoists Turner up and plants him on the hard concrete with a pump handle suplex. Macbeth looks around the area, before pulling Turner right back up and firing him through the nearby concession window. The Scot follow Turner into the concession booth and drives the man hard into the cash register face first.] SR: Definitely a "No Sale"! [The Scot then grabs one of the nearby beer bottles, and shakes it up, spraying it all over the now very bloodied face of Turner, before turning the bottle over on the man, and emptying the remaining contents. Andrew then takes the bottle and shatters it over the head of Turner, before rolling him back out through the window once again. Macbeth climbs over the window sill himself, and drops down on top of Turner for a cover, and Sanders falls into position, and begins the count.] TD: ONE! TWO! THREE! NO!!!! Sanders signalling a two! So, so close! SR: I don't believe it! [The crowd watching the scenes on the jumbotron pop again for the kickout, as Macbeth just looks up in disbelief. The Scot pulls Turner up to his feet, and fires the man off into the tunnel wall, but Turner reverses it, and it's Macbeth who hits the Stadium wall. The big man comes right back off the wall, but Turner catches him and lifts him up and over with a back body drop to the excitement of the crowd as the big man goes over top. Turner wipes the blood away from his face, and then takes a whiff of the beer that he is now wearing over his bloodied shirt, and Turner starts pounding on the tunnel ground, trying to build up his momentum. Macbeth is back up behind the man, and fires off a right hand as Turner spins around, but Turner doesn't even budge. Macbeth fires off a second shot, but Turner takes that one as well.] TD: I don't believe this! Turner just taking each shot Macbeth... blocked! And Turner with a shot of his own! [Turner staggers the big man with a right hand, and pulls Macbeth in for a side headlock, and launches himself down the tunnel and applies a bulldog on the Scotsman on the concrete.] TD: Turner with an incredible rush of adrenaline here! SR: Or maybe those little pills? TD: Turner with a cover! ONE! TWO! Kickout by Macbeth, and Turner is pumped! And the crowd behind him now! [The figure of Turner pulls Macbeth up to his feet, and carries the man headfirst down the tunnel even further, looking around for something, before kicking a door open. Sanders follows right behind the two wrestlers, but stays just enough out of the way as Turner ploughs Macbeth headfirst into the swinging door, before throwing the man into the room. The camera finally gets itself into position, to show Turner with a lacrosse stick -- and he brings it down on the back of Andrew Macbeth, shattering the stick into quite a few pieces! Turner then grabs the Scot and launches him into a rack filled with various uniforms, and the clothing goes flying everywhere. Turner pulls Macbeth back out in the hallway, the Scot with a jersey over his head and Turner fires off a European Uppercut on the man, standing the big man up. Turner then launches himself up, and tries for a neckscissors takedown on the concrete, but out of instinct, the Scot drops Turner with a spinebuster powerbomb.] SR: That'll end the momentum! [Turner clutches at the back of his head, as Macbeth remains on his knees to try to catch his breath. The Scot finally rolls himself over on top of Turner for a cover attempt, but pulls himself off immediately, and uses the wall to help him climb to his feet. Andrew then stumbles into the room where the two wrestler just came out of, and comes out with the broken lacrosse stick and as Turner gets up to his feet jams into the man's ribs, sending Turner back into the tunnel wall again. Macbeth then takes a hard swing with the stick, and nails Turner right across the face with the weapon, sending the man sprawling out on the floor. Macbeth tosses the stick off to the side and pulls Turner up, and walks slowly, still hobbling on the foot back out to the open area of the stadium and makes his way back over to the ramp. The Scot then lets out another yell of his own and drops the man on the metal ramp with an inverted DDT, before rolling on top of him with a cover.] TD: ONE! TWO! And... no! Again Turner able to push out of the pin!!! [The crowd pops again and a "ROCKET" chant starts pouring out through the crowd, as Turner tries to raise an arm to recognise his name being poured out through the arena. The clan of Glenfinnan, however, try to hold their Scotland flags up even higher, to try to keep the momentum going for Macbeth, and Andrew pulls Turner up the ramp. As Andrew gets half way up the ramp, the Intercontinental Champion, Duncan Macbeth steps out from behind the entrance, and watches as Andrew holds Turner in a side headlock.] SR: Sibling rivalry once again rears its ugly head! TD: Duncan just standing there, though. It looks like he's going to let Andrew and Turner battle this one out themselves! [The crowd chant of Rocket however, continues to pour through the crowd, and Turner finally starts to fire back, as he fires off an elbow into the midsection of Andrew, and fires the man out of the headlock and toward the railing. Turner then, almost blinded, leaps over the ring railing, grabbing Andrew by the top of the head, and driving him down head first into the grass.] TD: Turner with a desperation move out of nowhere! Turner with a cover attempt! ONE! TWO! THREE! NO!! Macbeth just getting out of the pin! [Turner pulls Andrew back up to his feet, and then fires the man back over the railing, and pulls himself up and over very gingerly as well. Turner stands on his feet as the "Rocket" chant is enormous, and the wrestler pulls Macbeth up and walks him back toward the base of the rampway.] SR: Right back where it all started. [Turner tosses Macbeth down on the ramp, and makes his way over toward the jumbotron at the ring entrance.] TD: He can't be planning... SR: He's drunk. The beer got to him. [Cameras flash all over the arena as Turner begins a slow climb up the scaffolding to one side of the huge video wall!] TD: Oh, this could be bad, Steve Roberts. Andrew Macbeth is out on the floor here, and Turner... he's climbing, what, twenty-five, thirty feet into the air here?! SR: He's rackin' up the Frequent Flyer miles, baby dolls! [Turner gets up to the top of the scaffold, and leaps off with the TNT elbow drop! The crowd gasps as Turner plummets towards the floor, and... ...connects with the manoeuvre! Huge, huge, huge pop!] TD: Oh my! It's over! It's over! [Sanders drops into position and begins to start the count when the bell sounds.] TD: What the hell? SR: That was the invisible three count, right? [The referee gets up to his feet, and looks around in as much surprise as anyone as Sparkplug Lee takes the microphone.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, this match has been declared a TIME LIMIT DRAW! TD: You have to be kidding me! SR: What?! They put a time limit on this match?! [The crowd boos as the decision is announced, and Duncan finally moves out of the entranceway, and comes over to check on his cousin, as well as Turner. Turner rolls off of the Scotsman, and lays there breathing heavy, as the IC champ pulls Andrew up to his feet, and the Macbeth men look around at the crowd.] TD: Now this is a potentially dangerous situation -- look at Turner down there on the floor, Steve Roberts. He could have been killed by that manoeuvre! [The face of Duncan Macbeth betrays nothing but pride as he now approaches the prone TNT, a huge smile on his face. Duncan now helps Turner to his feet.] TD: Surely Duncan is going to side with just one of these two men, Steve Roberts -- but which will it be? This match was all about respect... do you think Turner has earned the respect of the Macbeths after this incredible display tonight? [Duncan now stands inbetween the two men -- and then raises both of their hands in victory! The crowd responds with the appropriate warm pop for this show of solidarity.] TD: The Macbeths and Turner stand united here tonight after an incredible match! [For one, brief, shining moment, it is Camelot... Then, in a flash, Andrew and Duncan viciously turn and double clothesline TNT to the floor! The two Macbeths are suddenly wailing away on Turner with kicks and punches! Huge confused pop from the fans!] TD: Oh my! Oh my! What a completely unwarranted attack by the Macbeths! SR: Aw, Dross, this is just like the old days -- the Black Watch is back in town, baby dolls! [Turner is totally unable to defend himself against the combined assault of the two brawny Scotsmen, and despite the fans near the head of the ramp jeering and throwing trash, the attack continues unabated. Finally, the two Macbeths turn to the crowd, their eyes flashing with the exhilaration of the attack, and nod to one another. Andrew drags Turner to his feet, and holds him up, belly-to-belly by the legs, while Macbeth moves a short distance away.] TD: Oh my. This is bad, Steve Roberts. This is the set-up for the Celtic Cross, the old finshing manoeuvre of the Black Watch. Here comes Duncan... oh my! [Duncan vaults over Andrew's head and catches TNT with a cross body block, with Andrew slamming them both down to the hard steel of the ramp with a spinebuster! Huge heel pop! Duncan ducks behind the entrance curtain momentarily, and returns clutching a wireless microphone, while Andrew plants the occasional kick into the ribs of the unconscious Turner. Macbeth yells above the jeers of the fans:] DM: LOOK AT 'IM! Look at th' GREAT Timothy N. Turner, IIWF! Look at th' "Rocket Man"! Ye ken wha' they say, Timmy -- "up like a rocket, down like a stick"! An' tha's all ye bleedin' DESERVE, tosser! I remember when th' name o' Timothy N. Turner MEANT somethin' t' people! I remember when tha' name commanded RESPECT, when goin' against TNT meant tha' ye were goin' against one o' th' BEST wrestlers in th' BUSINESS! [Duncan Macbeth looks down at the stunned Turner with a look of disgust, and the massive Andrew looks on, his tree-trunk arms folded and his piercing eyes glittering as he looks on with approval, while the sold-out crowd at Wembley buzzes with confusion, not knowing whether to cheer or boo this shocking scene.] DM: An' then I look down at this PATHETIC excuse fer a professional wrestler, an' I wonder jus' wha' happened t' th' Tim Turner I used t' ken! We've known each other a lang, lang time, an' together, we were always a force t' be reckoned with. 'Cause we were dedicated t' one thing an' one thing only -- excellence. We always shot fer th' top, no matter where we found ourselves... we would no' be stopped 'til we stood at th' top o' th' mountain! But now, ye're no' interested in bein' Timothy N. Turner th' WRESTLER anymore. Ye're no' interested in bein' wha' ye once were -- th' cocky, arrogant wrestlin' encyclopaedia tha' could stand 'is ground against any man ye'd care t' name, who was cocky 'cause 'e KNEW 'e'd find a way t' win, every single time! But now, all ye care about is bein' Timothy N. Turner th' CELEBRITY, wha'. [Macbeth snorts with disdain at the word, glaring down at Turner, and delivers another vicious kick to Turner's ribs, curling the Canadian up before he continues.] DM: Th' soddin' "Rocket Man", flyin' around on tha' foolish jet-pack o' yuirs, puttin' yuirself up in th' penthouse suite o' th' best hotels everywhere ye go, drinkin' yuirself in t' a bloody stupor at th' Ace O' Clubs wi' those Von Edward tarts ye hang out wi'. An' talkin', talkin', an' talkin' some MORE about all th' great matches ye've wrestled, 'cause talkin' is ALL ye can do now. An' now, showin' up drunk t' matches, pissin' yuir pants at th' thought o' fightin' Andrew -- jus' WHERE th' JAYSIS are yuir BOLLOCKS, man? Ye're no' a wrestler anymore. Ye're a GIMMICK. Ye're a back-page tabloid article. Well, th' last straw fer ME was las' Saturday, Turner. I put me trust in ye! I stuck up fer ye when everybody was sellin' ye short, sayin' ye were an alcoholic, quiverin' mess! I pledged me support t' ye when Andrew an' everyone else was sayin' tha' I should jus' DUMP yuir tired arse! An' wha' did I get in return? Ye stood there like a useless TEAT whilst Simon Lebec was tryin' t' take me out! Ye ran like a blubberin' CHILD rather than face me cousin in th' ring! An' in th' end, I practically had t' hold yuir hand fer ye while ye took yuir sweet time goin' fer th' pin, like a rookie jobber! THA'S when I realised tha' EVERYTHIN' tha' Andrew was sayin' about ye was RIGH'! [Macbeth's green eyes narrow, as Turner begins to come around, and he looks up groggily at the Intercontinental Champion, pain, confusion, and despair crossing his face.] I've had ENOUGH o' th' "Guid Life", Turner. T' be honest, I ne'er much cared fer it, anyway. But I put up wi' yuir childish carousin', so lang as it didn't affect wha' we did in th' ring. But I'm no' like ye. I'm no' content t' coast on me reputation, an' trade on me name. I'm no' 'ere t' party. I'm 'ere t' WIN. 'Cause I STILL 'ave th' hunger, th' drive, th' DESIRE t' be th' best. Somethin' YE"RE obviosly lackin'. Sae THIS is where we part company, Turner. Now ye can go back t' yuir penthouse suite, and put on yuir sissified silk bathrobe. An' if ye're smart, ye'll STAY there, wha'. [With the crowd incensed, Duncan and Andrew rapidly exit the stadium, leaving Turner lying in a heap on the ramp. As the Macbeths depart, the Glenfinnan Scots get up out of their chairs and follow the two cousins out, leaving the crowd in a state of shock as an EMT team pushes out through the curtains and begins tending to Turner.] TD: Oh my. What a totally heinous attack on the part of the Macbeth cousins, Steve Roberts. SR: You're kidding me, right, Dross? That was great! I keep saying that Duncan needs to bring back that killer instinct he had when he was contending for the Intercontinental Championship -- and it looks like it's back with a vengeance. And we have Andrew Macbeth to thank for it. TD: I'm not sure "thank" is the appropriate word, Steve Roberts. Timothy Turner is being rolled onto the stretcher out here -- I think he's unconscious. What a dreadful turn of events. [Cut to a shot of the Macbeth cousins pushing past officials and security backstage, Andrew grabbing a duffel bag, and continuing out towards the exit.] TD: Presumably the Macbeths are on their way to Tower Bridge to prepare for Duncan's Thames Barge match scheduled for later tonight -- and they have simply left Timothy N. Turner for dead. [Suddenly, the camera is jostled aside, and Akira Saito and "Constable" Tom Turner push past, chasing after the Macbeths and yelling. Andrew and Duncan turn and look over their shoulders. With a grin, Duncan yells, "Not now, wha', I have a match t' fight!", and nods to Andrew, who pulls a rank of lockers down on top of the NorthPac Coalition. The camera is also hit by the falling lockers, but is able to catch a glimpse of the Macbeths escaping into the car park, Saito and Turner cursing as the shot cuts back to ringside.] TD: Of course, Steve Roberts -- it all makes sense now. The attack on the NorthPac Coalition earlier tonight must have been perpetrated by the Macbeths too. What a despicable pair, to simply turn their backs on a friendship of so many years' standing. Outrageous. SR: Them's the breaks, baby dolls. It's survival of the fittest -- and the smartest -- out there. The Macbeths just showed they're on a whole different evolutionary plane to Turner and his little buddies. TD: That's very much a matter of opinion, Steve Roberts. Folks, at the top of our next hour, we're going to see Deathbringer and Harlequin Tragedy battle it out in a Ladder Match, with Deathbringer's mask as the spoils for the victor. Dave Bacon tried to get comments a little earlier tonight with Deathbringer -- perhaps he'll have more luck with Tragedy. Dave? [Cut to backstage. Dave Bacon stands in one of the anonymous corridors of Wembley Stadium. Beside him stands Harlequin Comedy, who grins into the camera.] DB: Tim, in just a little while we will witness the mask ladder match between the IIWF's Dark Destroyer, Deathbringer, and the husband of this fine young lady right here. I am talking about Tragedy, and with me right now is the Clown Princess of the IIWF, Comedy. COMEDY: HI! DB: Comedy, your husband is going to be involved in a very dangerous match. Deathbringer's mask will be suspended ablove the ring. And the only way to win is to climb a ladder set at ringside, grab the mask and reach to the mat. Aren't you a little concerned about your husband's well being? COMEDY: Dave, don't be silly. My pookums knows just what he's doing. And besides, if Deathbringer couldn't get the mask back a few months ago when he was at his peak, how the heck is he gonna beat Trag now, now that he's at his weakest? DB: Okay, but I have another question. Why? Why did Tragedy go for the mask? Why risk fate? COMEDY: Because for too long, Tragedy has had things taken from him. Well, from now on, the Harlequins are doing the taking. Two months ago it was the mask, tomorrow it will be a title. DB: Any title in particular? COMEDY: Well, I'm not going to make any quick assumptions, but Macbeth and Lebec should be very careful what they do from now on. DB: I see. Well, that's the Harlequin perspective. Back to you at ringside, Tim and Steve. [Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: Thanks, Dave. Folks, we have one more match coming up in this hour: the Waterbucket Match pitting the "Real Deal" Luke Steele against Christopher Stonebreaker. And with the formation of the so-called Discordiacs earlier tonight, who knows what we're going to see in this one? ________ ______ ..........................| || |\ \ /\ / /| __|......................... | || | \ v v / | __| |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| WATERBUCKET MATCH: "Real Deal" Luke Steele vs. Christopher Stonebreaker ........................................................................ WRITER: Steve Carmichael [The crowd waits patiently as several officials and ring technicians file out from the back, each holding onto an end of the ten foot pole which is be erected at ringside for the next match. One other official holds the bucket.] TD: This next match is not going to be pretty. SR: Of course it's not going to be pretty. It's a waterbucket match! You can't expect a match like this to be a scientific wrestling match. What it's gonna be is two guys beating the bloody hell out of each other with a metal bucket. Ain't it great? Only in the IIWF, baby dolls. [The group of officials make it to the ring and begin to assemble the pole up high in the air. After fastening the pole to the turnbuckle post, one official climbs up to the very top turnbuckle and places the waterbucket atop it. As soon as the bucket is up, the bell rings and draws a small pop from the crowd. Sparkplug Lee makes his way up onto the apron and into the ring with microphone in hand.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the next match is a special waterbucket match! The rules are as follows: a ten-foot pole has been erected in one corner of the ring, from which is suspended a steel waterbucket. Whichever wrestler climbs the pole and grabs the bucket will be allowed to use it throughout the match, which can only end on submission or pinfall, and has no disqualification or countouts! [The crowd pops as fireworks shoot off from the lighting rig and the ramp assembled at the aisle. "A Country Boy Can Survive" by Hank Williams Jr. plays as Christopher Stonebreaker makes his way from behind the curtains to a big pop from the British crowd. Stonebreaker is clad in black ring pants with a sledgehammer running down one side, along with black boots and pads. Stonebreaker is carrying his sledgehammer with him, and runs his free hand through his short brown hair. Chris absentmindedly claps hands with a few fans as he ventures down the ramp to the ring.] SL: Introducing first, weighing in at two-hundred and sixty-five pounds, hailing from Lafayette, Louisiana, he stands at six foot six, here is Christopher Stonebreaker! [Some fireworks go off on the lighting rig again as Stonebreaker reaches the ringside area, and walks over to the side where Tim Dross and Steve Roberts are located.] SR: Where is he going? TD: It would appear he's coming right over here. [Christopher Stonebreaker stands next to Tim, and Tim rises out of his seat, about to ask Chris a question. But before words can slip from Dross' tongue, Christopher Stonebreaker hands Dross the sledgehammer, and turns around to roll into the ring. Dross sits back down, clutching the sledgehammer, as Stonebreaker raises his arms up and the crowd flash their cameras getting pictures of the superstar athlete.] SR: Why did he give it to you, Dross? TD: I really don't know, Steve. But I'm not one to knock a gift-horse in the mouth. SR: Tim Dross, ladies and gentlemen. [As the thousands upon thousands of fans begin to deliver loud heel pops across the stadium, the beginning of "I Am The Man" by the Philosopher Kings starts to be heard. As fireworks explode at the wrestler entrance, Steele appears and stands there, not moving at first. Then slowly he is joined by Stone, the massive bodyguard, who lumbers out into the stadium behind Steele clutching a leather sack. And finally, the crowd begins to boo him even more as Awesome T appears, and runs to catch up with Luke, and the two men engage in conversation as the trio heads to the ring.] TD: Luke Steele and Awesome T? What is going on? Have they reached some sort of agreement? SR: Isn't it obvious, Dross? Steele finally realised he sucks on the mic, and T realised he's no good at anything else. Why not stick them together, baby dolls? TD: I guess this must be an upshot of the alliance of the so-called Discordiacs which we saw earlier tonight. Awesome T must be Steele's manager now. SL: And his opponent, being accompanied to the ring by Stone and Awesome T, weighing in at two hundred seventy five pounds, hailing from Cleveland, Ohio, he stands at six foot four, here 'Real Deal' Luke Steele! SR: You gotta love Cleveland, Dross. Home of the Indians, Lukey Steele and the funniest fat guy on TV, Drew Carrey. [Steele and his entourage makes it to the ring, Stone and T take their place outside the ring, and Luke Steele hops up onto the apron and jumps over the top ropes and lands on his feet displaying his tremendous agility. The spotlight shines on Steele and Steele flexes his muscles out for the crowd. Christopher Stonebreaker, on the other side of the ring looks up at the waterbucket, and then over to T and Stone at ringside, with a very serious look on his face. Steele continues to smile an arrogant smile, and the bell rings to signify the start of the match.] SR: One thing I better not see is T and Stone get involved with this match. The last thing we need is another gutless stable like Genesis who win matches for each other. [As the crowd slowly quiets down, both Luke Steele and Christopher Stonebreaker stand nose to nose in the ring, eyeing each other out. Steele breaks the tension and mouths some words to Stonebreaker which cannot be picked up by the cameras. However, they were obviously unkind words, as Stonebreaker fires back with a right hand to Luke's jaw. Big pop from the hot crowd! Steele takes a few steps back out of shock, but Christopher Stonebreaker will not allow it, and Chris charges forward, peppering Luke Steele with shots to the head. The referee just watches on as he cannot stop these normally illegal blows, since there are no disqualifications. Stonebreaker drives a knee to Steele's jaw, which drops Luke down to one knee. Chris wraps an arm around Steele's neck and attempts to put him down with a DDT, but Steele lifts back and hits a modified German suplex. Both wrestlers rise, and Chris fires at Steele with a charging lariat, but Steele ducks it and charges at Stonebreaker with a flying dropkick which connects with Stonebreaker's chest. Steele rises back to his feet and whips Christopher Stonebreaker into the turnbuckle which contains the metal pole and waterbucket. Steele charges in with a hard elbow and rocks Chris backwards again. Steele fires away at Stonebreaker with repetitive knife edge chops, slapping across Stonebreaker's chest turning it beet red. Stonebreaker falls to one knee, and Luke hammers away at Chris' back with axehandle chops.] SR: That's a big mistake from Luke Steele. He's got his guy down to one knee with the wind knocked out of him. He should have gone for the waterbucket right then and there. He was standing right next to it! TD: I disagree, Steve. I think both wrestlers know that the waterbucket will come into play later on in the match. Right now, both wrestlers are trying each other out, measuring each other out, and seeing just what they have. [Stonebreaker slumps to the mat, and that is good enough for Luke, who leaps up onto the second turnbuckle and immediately lunges for the bucket. Steele misses though, and Chris shakes the ropes, driving Steele down hard with his legs straddling the turnbuckle. The crowd gasps as Awesome T turns his head along with the ref, to avoid the sight. Steele's jaw drops in shock and pain. Chris make sit back up to his feet and drills away with right hands on the prone Steele. The only direction Christopher Stonebreaker sees is up and he climbs the turnbuckle, with Steele still on it!] SR: Oh yeah, here we go! Get the bucket! I want to see some clang-clang action. You remember that, Dross? You know, that ugly Jericho kid? That's one of my fondest memories... clang-clang-clang. I never get tired of that! [Christopher Stonebreaker makes it up to the second turnbuckle and latches onto Luke Steele's waist. Stonebreaker drives backwards and flips Steele over in mid-air with a second rope belly to belly suplex. Steele lands hard, and Christopher Stonebreaker instinctively covers. The ref just shakes his head no and points up to the bucket. Chris pounds the mat in frustration as he would have the three count. Stonebreaker gets off of Steele to discuss the situation with the referee. Steele slowly rolls outside to conference with Awesome T.] SR: I'm a little bit confused here. TD: I think we all are. SR: So pinfalls or submissions can only occur _after_ the bucket is down? TD: I'm not too sure of that, Steve. We should assume so, since the referee wouldn't make a count. [A frustrated Christopher Stonebreaker finally turns around after discussing with the referee the pinfalls ruling, and is blasted over the head by a vicious steel chair shot from Luke Steele, who now stands on the apron, clutching the metal foreign object. Stonebreaker reels back a few feet, trying to compose himself after the shot, and Steele gets back into the ring and blasts the chair into Christopher's midsection, and then once more over Stonebreaker's back. The hard metal clangs ring out through Wembley, and is met with a loud heel pop for Luke Steele.] SR: Yes! I love it! There are no disqualifications in the match! A steel chair works just as well as a metal waterbucket! TD: Well, in theory yes, but the point of the no disqualification ruling is to allow the use of the waterbucket. Luke Steele is bending these rules awfully far. SR: Aw, it's good strategy for Steele. Beat the crap out of the guy with a steel chair, then get the bucket, hit him once and pin him! [Steele drops the steel chair on the mat, and points over to the bucket. The crowd boo as T claps for Steele, showing his support for the Discordiac member. Steele grins a cocky smile and struts over to the pole, leisurely beginning his climb up it. A groggy Christopher Stonebreaker slowly begins to stir and rise to his feet. After a few moments, Steele is just about to reach the bucket, but Stonebreaker charges forward and hits a dropkick onto Steele, bashing Luke's forehead against the metal pole! Big face pop as Steele falls backward to the canvas. Stonebreaker looks up at the bucket erected ten feet above the ring, but instead of going for it, he pounces on Steele and applies a camel clutch on the Ohio native.] TD: Christopher Stonebreaker appears to be a little apprehensive about climbing those ropes and getting the waterbucket. SR: Why the hell should he be apprehensive about bashing someone's brains in with a bucket? TD: Perhaps because Stonebreaker is a sane individual? And that camel clutch seems to be wearing down the "Real Deal" quite effectively. [After a good minute in the hold, Awesome T climbs up onto the apron and distracts the referee. Instinctively, Stonebreaker smells a set-up and quickly relinquishes his grip on Steele and spins around to see Stone. Stone stands on the floor, expressionless. Stonebreaker eyes around suspiciously, unclear of just what to expect. Unfortunately for him, he should have been paying attention to the "Real Deal" because Steele fires a nasty uppercut to the bread basket of the Lafayette resident. Chris slumps to the mat in agony, as Steele rests on the mat trying to recollect his energy and focus.] SR: What a smart move by Awesome T! Stoney was expecting Stone to waffle him. And when he didn't see Stone move a muscle, the boy got scared! He didn't have a clue Steele would nail him. That's class, baby dolls. TD: You call an obvious low blow such as that "class"? [Awesome T gets down off of the apron, his work being done. Luke Steele is the first to shake off the cobwebs and begins to rise to his feet. Steele looks up to the waterbucket, and runs over to the turnbuckle and begins to climb them again, eagerly attempting to get down the waterbucket. Christopher Stonebreaker makes it up to his feet and walks up behind Steele. Not being a fool twice, Steele fires a vicious mule kick to the jaw of Stonebreaker, and follows up by diving off the second turnbuckle with a flying Thesz Press knocking down Stonebreaker. Steele gets back to his feet and runs back over to the turnbuckle and signals to Stone for something. Instantly Stone, on the outside opens up the bag revealing an axe! Stone tosses the axe up to Steele.] TD: Oh my goodness, he's got an axe! SR: What the hell is he going to use that axe for? TD: This match may be no disqualifications, but for goodness sake, Steele should know better than this! [Steele brandishes the axe and takes a mighty swing... at the pole! A huge metal on metal clang rings out through Wembley. The vibrations run through the axe and shake Steele's hands. Slowly, Christopher Stonebreaker gets back up to his feet and sees Steele's attempt to chop down the pole. Stone shakes his head in wonder, as Steele goes for another swing, Stonebreaker latches a grip onto the axe and yanks it out of Luke's hands to a loud face pop. Steele spins around and is met with a blow to the jaw from the butt end of the axe, knocking him down! Stonebreaker carefully tosses the axe down the isle, and out of the match. Chris gazes up at the waterbucket, and thinks for a moment, but then latches on a cobra clutch to Steele, as opposed to climbing the buckles.] SR: What the Hell is he doing?!? Get the damn bucket! TD: Deep down inside, Steve Roberts, I don't think Christopher Stonebreaker wanted it to ever come down to this. SR: Yeah, well, good intentions are all fine and dandy, but he's in there right now and that waterbucket is his only way of beating Luke Steele. [As Christopher Stonebreaker applies the cobra clutch, Awesome T shouts some instructions to Stone, and Stone instantly reaches into the ring and pulls the legs of Stonebreaker, bringing him to the outside. Stone fires a shot for Stonebreaker's head, but Chris blocks it and drives a fist of his own into the bodyguard's skull, knocking Stone back.] TD: Christopher Stonebreaker has one of the hardest punches in the business and Stone just found that out the hard way! [Chris rolls back into the ring and scoops up Luke Steele's arm and lifts him up high in a vertical suplex! The crowd instantly pop loudly as they know what's next... a Rockslide suplex. Stonebreaker snaps Steele down onto the top ring-ropes in a slingshot, and goes to drive down Steele with a brainbuster, but Luke Steele counters it and kicks off the ropes, driving hard into Stonebreaker and knocking the two back onto the mat.] TD: Stonebreaker is turning this back into a wrestling match. SR: I know, that's what sucks so much! It's billed as a goddamned waterbucket match, so someone please get up on that turnbuckle and yank down the damn bucket and smash someone's skull with it! Hell, I don't know how much longer I can go without hearing a clang-shot! TD: Then why don't you go up there and get the bucket yourself? SR: Gimme five more minutes and I'll do it, Dross. [Both men scramble to get back to their feet. Stonebreaker charges at Steele with a clothesline lariat, but Luke ducks under it and hops over with the floating DDT! But on the way down, Stonebreaker latches onto Steele's legs and drives back with a hotshot-like move onto the turnbuckles. Steele is lucky enough to catch his hands on the ropes, preventing his face from smashing into the pole, and Stonebreaker falls to the mat with the momentum. Steele jumps up and drops a big legdrop across the face of Christopher Stonebreaker. After several stomps to the back of the head, Steele turns around and climbs the turnbuckle yet again, reaching for the bucket. After a few moments of near misses the crowd instantly erupts with a huge chorus of "boo"s as Steele manages to shake loose the waterbucket, and catches it as it falls down to the mat. Steele grins, as devious plans for the use of the bucket flash through his mind. Steele turns around and faces Christopher Stonebreaker as he rises to his feet. As Stonebreaker reaches his feet, Steele leaps off of the top turnbuckle and drives the waterbucket across the back of Stonebreaker sounding off a loud *clang*, sending Stonebreaker flying between the ropes and to the floor outside.] TD: What a shot! SR: Woo! First clang of the night, baby dolls, may there be many more to follow! [The crowd rains down on Luke Steele with a negative reaction as Awesome T cheers on the outside, happy that his man got the bucket first. Steele steps out to the floor and drops the bucket across Stonebreaker's back yet again. Steele knows he can do the most damage with the bucket inside the ring and rolls him into the ring. Steele rolls in and drops the bucket onto the mat. Steele latches onto Christopher Stonebreaker, but Chris breaks free and two begin a wild slugfest with each other. Steele manages to dodge a wild right hook from Stonebreaker, and latches onto the arm and drives him down face-first with a cross-face chicken wing, straight onto the bucket! The sickening sound rings through the arena as Stonebreaker's face is engraved onto the side of the bucket. Steele sits up and grins at his luck placement of the bucket. Steele reaches over and pulls the bucket over Stonebreaker's head. Luke runs to the ropes and drops a big legdrop onto the face of Stonebreaker and the bucket. The crowd gasps at the sight.] SR: Oh yeah! This is what we paid for. TD: I just hope that Luke Steele doesn't seriously harm Christopher Stonebreaker with that bucket! SR: Why not? Stoney had the chance to get the bucket and he didn't go for it. Now he's paying for his foolish mistake. [Steele bends down and lifts Stonebreaker to his feet. Stonebreaker is in a daze and still wears the bucket over his head. Luke goes over to the opposite turnbuckle and picks up the steel chair that was left there earlier. Steele lifts it up above his head and brings it down across the side of the bucket! *CLANG!* The 85,000 in attendance all grimace at the gruesome sight. Even Awesome T and Steve Roberts on the outside shield their eyes as Luke Steele swings another shot across the face of the bucket. *CLANG!* A small trail of crimson blood begins to flow down from the bucket, as Christopher Stonebreaker falls down to the mat.] TD: Oh, this is bad! Stonebreaker is hurt! [Steele looks down and sees the blood and looks around to Awesome T with an unsure look, not quite sure of what to do next. Awesome T yells hit him again and encourages Steele to continue. Steele drops the steel chair down to the mat and begins to slowly stomp on Stonebreaker's ribs, testing to see if Chris is conscious. Christopher's body shakes, and he covers up. Steele wipes the sweat of his brow and flashes a relieved smile, knowing that he didn't kill his opponent. Stonebreaker pulls away at the bucket, like a mask and unveils his face to Wembley once again, but this time his nose is dripping out blood over his chin and chest. Steele yanks the bucket out of Stonebreaker's hands and drops it to the mat, and pulls down Stonebreaker's head and lifts him up into a piledriver position. The crowd once again cover their eyes as Christopher Stonebreaker ends up being piledrived atop the metal waterbucket. Sensing the opportunity for victory, Luke leans back on Stonebreaker's chest, with a cocky cover. The ref reaches two, and Stonebreaker fires a shoulder up into the air defiantly. The crowd instantly release a huge face pop after seeing Christopher raise his shoulder off the mat.] TD: Two count! He only got a two count! SR: I thought Stoney was out of it! I can't believe he kicked out of that piledriver! Oh well, that just means that Steele's gonna have to hit him again! TD: The crowd here at Ring Wars 5 are getting behind Stonebreaker now! Listen to these cheers and chants! [Sure enough, the crowd is chanting "Stone-break-er!", and oddly enough manage to do it with a British accent. Steele steps back, unsure of what move to try now as Christopher Stonebreaker fights up to his knees. After several moments of struggling, Christopher Stonebreaker defiantly makes it up to his knees. Steele shakes his hand at Stonebreaker, telling him not to bother getting up. Steele plants a stern kick to the ribs of Stonebreaker, but Chris continues to rise. Steele thinks fast and bends down and puts his own foot into the bucket. As soon as Christopher Stonebreaker is up to both feet. Luke jumps up in the air, and attempts a dropkick with the bucket on his foot! The crowd pops loudly as Stonebreaker side-steps the dropkick and Steele smashes his ankle into the bucket, on the mat. Steele yanks his foot out of the bucket and clutches at his ankle, apparently having damaged it! Big pop!] TD: Steele is hurt! He hurt himself with that! SR: What kind of idiot would try that?! I can't believe Awesome T let him get away with that crap! TD: And look at this! Christopher Stonebreaker is on the offensive! [The bloody Stonebreaker begins to pummel right hands into the skull of Luke Steele. Stonebreaker helps Steele up to his feet and wraps him up with a reverse neckbreaker! Having the momentum now change to Stonebreaker's favour, Awesome T pounds the mat hard, shouting at Steele instructions. Stonebreaker covers him, but only gets a two count. Christopher kicks the bucket out of his way and lifts Steele up to his feet. Christopher Stonebreaker whips Luke into the rope and leapfrogs over him, and Steele fires back at Christopher Stonebreaker with a clothesline, but Chris manages to duck it. Once again Steele comes back on the rebound from the ropes, and Stonebreaker attempts a clothesline of his own. This however, is the opportunity Steele was searching for and he ducks under, leaps off his feet, wraps around and drives Christopher Stonebreaker down as hard as he can with the floating DDT... right onto the water bucket! The sickening sound makes some people's blood curdle as Stonebreaker's face is implanted into the side of the bucket. Steele rests on the mat for a few seconds, collecting his breath. He sits up and looks over at Stonebreaker's body slumped out on the mat, not moving. Steele rolls over Stonebreaker and drapes an arm over his chest.] TD: Oh my! Surely this one is over! [The ref drops to the canvas and makes the count: 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: Luke Steele did it! He beat Christopher Stonebreaker with the use of the floating DDT and the waterbucket! SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the match is the "Real Deal" Luke Steele! [The British crowd instantly rain down on Steele with "boo"s as Awesome T rolls into the ring to congratulate his man. Steele thrusts his arm up in victory and stands over the unconscious form of Christopher Stonebreaker as "I am The Man" by Philosopher Kings plays once again. Steele looks down into the bloodied face of Christopher Stonebreaker as Awesome T proclaims this to be the beginning of big things for the Discordiacs. Steele and Awesome T finish their in-ring celebration, and file out of the ring and head back up the aisle to the locker rooms with the accompaniment of Stone. In the ring, the official helps to revive the battered Christopher Stonebreaker. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: Folks, that's going to do it for our first hour here tonight at Ring Wars 5! What action we've seen so far -- and there's a whole lot more to come! In our next hour, Deathbringer battles Harlequin Tragedy in a Ladder Match, Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines dukes it out with the Meatman in a Coffin Cooler Match, Marty Warnett faces Rick Williams in a Blindfold Match -- and we have that huge, cataclysmic battle between Serge Annis and Mad Dog Watkins capping it all off. Don't go away, folks! [Cut to a wide-angle shot of Wembley Stadium as Stonebreaker slowly leaves the ring under his own steam to a huge pop from the capacity crowd. The shot pans up to the night sky high above the Stadium. Fade.] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= I * I * W * F =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+ | President: Daniel Spreadbury | Vice-President: Gregg Osterhout | | univ0322@sable.ox.ac.uk | ghost@frii.com | | iiwf@sisko.demon.co.uk | | +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- http://www.sisko.demon.co.uk -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+