________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| |\ /| /\ |\ | | /\ \ / | || | \ v v / | __| | v |/ \| \| __| /__\ \/ |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| | |\ /| |/ |/ \/ | | \/ | |\_// /\ |\ /| | _ | / __ / __ | v | | | / \ . |\ | / \ / \ | | | | \__ | | \| | __ \__ 13 April 1998 | | | | \ | | | \__| \ .....................|..v_____/.|.|..|____|____/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Team Sychosys ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Strangely enough, the setting is the backstage area at the IIWF Coliseum. Even more strangely, a very cocky "Mr. Majestyk" Maurice McArthur is alone in front of the camera, both IIWF World Tag Team Championship belts draped over his shoulders.] 4M: Joe is getting some medical attention tonight as a result of some of his, uh, unscheduled activity earlier tonight. But even though the guy seems to be the centre of everything going on lately, I think I've proved myself more than capable of holding down the fort myself if need be, so I'm gonna do just that. Machines. Especially you, Simon O'Neal. I think you got a taste of what I'm all about now. I ain't nobody's whipping boy anymore. It's time everyone starts to realise, that even if...and yes, I said IF...I am the weak link in TS, then I'm still stronger than anybody else in the IIWF. And I truly believe that. I have my own mind, I make my own calls. And if anybody from Scott Bloom to Steve Kowalski has a problem with that, Mr. Majestyk is not a hard man to find. And as for you, Gunnar G... [Without warning, 4M is shoved out of the picture by "Sychosys" Joe Petrow, looking not very healthy with a split lip and an eye swollen completely shut. The camera quickly pans back to get both of Team Sychosys in the picture, "Mr. Majestyk" looking like a scared child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But Petrow pays him no mind, breathing heavily and staring dead at the camera, as the camera soon begins to zoom into a close-up of Sychosys, who speaks in surprising calm and hushed voice.] JP: I have tried...I have tried to keep my private life away from the ring. Because my private life is just that. The Sychopaths know, and some things have leaked out from time to time, but for the most part I have kept my skeletons in the closet. And yet, it seems I can't do so anymore. So this week... and this week only... I'm gonna let it all out. The true origin of Sychosys, the cause of the pain and suffering that I suffer for all eternity. Kept in check, until Gunnar Gaines, a man who... no, he's not a man. Cheryl is not a woman. Neither one of them is human, because no two human beings could think so lowly of their own flesh and blood to use him for such a sick and twisted purpose, let alone make such a mockery of my own pain. Gunnar Gaines, and whoever the hell you got. It could be Brody Freakin' Thunder for all I care. It makes no sense in the grand story-line of the mighty IIWF, but we're gonna fight anyway. We're gonna fight...and I'm gonna get four apologies from you. You may not say them out loud, or even be able to when the night is over, but you'll make them just the same. You're going to apologise to every son and daughter whose daddy has lost them. You're going to apologise to your own son, for bringing him into such a horrible family. You're going to apologise to Maurice's son. And last, and most sincerely... You're gonna apologise to mine. [Joe stalks off the set. A wide-eyed, blank faced Maurice at first does nothing, then runs off to catch up to Joe.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: IIWF interview area. Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines is shown in a head-and-shoulders shot, grinning and swaying back and forth for some reason. The reason why becomes evident when the camera pans back a little bit, showing him holding little Justin Lawrence Gaines in his arms.] GGG: [talking to the baby] I guess that old saying really _is_ true, isn't it, Justin? I mean, I went out and proved it to Jimmy "Dead Meat" Squeele... and then I proved it _again_ last night to Joe Petrow! [Gunnar chuckles] GGG: Sometimes, the hand that rocks the cradle... _really does_ rule the world! [Gunnar keeps rocking the baby, wiggling his nose at him. Little Justin giggles back in response. Gunnar hands him off to Cheryl Gaines as she steps into the shot. She makes a few faces at little Justin to keep him amused. Gunnar turns to the camera.] GGG: Petrow... I'm going to prove it _again_ next week. Evidently what I did to play mind games with the Meatman got into _your_ head, too. It was like dipping a fishing line in the water and getting not one, but TWO big, fat, stupid fish in the form of the Meatman and yourself -- you _both_ took the bait hook, line and sinker! Hell. You got SO mad, you handed me and my mystery partner a TITLE SHOT on a silver platter! Now, I know you're a "master strategist," son, but please explain how getting yourself into a title-losing situation with The Baddest Thangs Running is good strategy, when you've _already_ got to deal with a tough field in the tag division! [pause] I'm waiting, Petrow! [Grizzly Grin] Thought so. Your emotions have gotten you into a situation you can't handle. See, son... my partner ain't just anyone. He's one of the toughest, most sadistic, cold-hearted bastards I've ever met! And after he and I win those tag team belts... I don't want you whining complaining that you were blindsided. I don't want any sh[bleep]t about your not being prepared. And so, I'm going to tell you _exactly_ who he is... right now. He's CALEB TEMPLE. Now, son... you might know that Temple and I have a bit of a history. You might be aware that he got a little... _injured_... at my hands. But Joe and Maurice, he's gonna be there on Saturday, and the Baddest Thangs Running are going to try and take your titles away, and if you don't believe me, I have only two words for ya, son... [Gunnar chuckles] Trust me! [Gunnar breaks out into a huge assortment of snorts, chuckles and guffaws, as Cheryl continues to rock the baby by his side. As the camera zooms in on little Justin, he smiles... and one can almost see a Grizzly Grin on his face. Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "The Savior" Simon Lebec ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Camera opens with Tim Dross, standing outside the dressing room of "The Savior" Simon Lebec following the Saturday Night Battle Royale] TD: In what will go down as a gutsy performance by Simon Lebec, he drew the Number 2 seeding the IIWF Intercontinental tournament here tonight. After all that he has been through in the last few weeks, from the famed River Thames match, to a punishing battle tonight, Lebec has proven to many that he can rise to the occasion. Let's go inside and see if we can get a word with "The Savior". [Dross opens the locker room door. As the camera follows Dross in, we find a battered, sweating, Simon Lebec, crumpled on the floor like a dog ready to be put out of its misery. Lebec is not moving, lying still on the cold, concrete flooring. Dross rushes over to Lebec's side] TD: Simon! Are you okay? Somebody get a doctor! [Lebec groans.] SL: I can't feel m' left side Timmy. I'm seein' two o' ya. Top o' that... I'm coughin' up blood. [Bloodied drool cascades from Lebec's lip as he continues] But I went out there tonight an' did somethin' that I said I would... [Lebec rolls over on his back, motioning for Dross to hand him a nearby T-shirt with the words "Wrestle Hard" written on it. Dross hands Lebec the T-shirt, who drops it due to fatigue] ...I rassled hard, Timmy. TD: Somebody please call for the medics. [Lebec shakes his head, grabbing Dross by the leg] SL: Them... them doctors ain't gonna tell me somethin' that I don't already know, Timmy. TD: Simon, we've had our differences in the past, but you _MUST_ listen to me. You need a doctor. You've got Jimmy Steele to worry about next week in the first round of the tournament. [Lebec smiles, blood still trickling down his chin] SL: I'll be ready, Dross. I'm a rassler. It's what I do. Now get outta here. There's somebody out there more important ta interview than me. TD: Well... ah... congratulations on a heroic performance here tonight. [Lebec nods, wincing in pain] SL: M' rib cage thanks ya Timmy. TD: I'm Tim Dross, signing off. [Camera fades as Lebec rolls over in pain] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Icehawk ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scene: The IIWF interview set. Icehawk comes out, looking absolutely furious. He's in street clothes, with his hair soaked from his shower.] IH: What in the hell is going on here? I just saw the tape of the battle royale -- do we have any [BLEEP]ing security in this damn building or not? How the hell does a lunatic like Valtharius the Nutbar just walk into the ring and start beating the crap out of people without anyone doing anything? And Marty Warnett was just _so_ useful. Marty, you are supposed to be a member of 4-D, but you are so damn self-centered that you let a teammate damn near get killed so you can win a stupid battle royale. And then you run around, posing like you just won the heavyweight title or something. You didn't even check to see if Fitz was dead. I'm sick of this [BLEEP]. For a year now, I've been the IIWF Boy Scout. And now I feel like I'm the only Cheerio in a bowl of Froot Loops. You have this so-called "Wrestle Clean" program -- but no one raises a finger while Takezo Musashi tries to kill me. And his punishment? A shot at the [BLEEP]ing heavyweight title. And now some fruitcake comes out of the stands and damn near kills Fitz, and everyone stands around and watches. What's the deal, Mr. President? Did you and your suits find out that the ratings go up when Fitz or I get carried out on a stretcher? Is that why my first title defense is against a guy that's only about 200 pounds over the weight limit? I can just hear the meeting -- "Hey, he's got a bad back -- let's put him in a match with a 400-pound guy -- that's sure to get us the big ratings! And if that doesn't work, we'll send out our trained gorilla to destroy his partner! This is great!" Fitz was right. This place is a damn circus. And I'm your trained seal. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Down Boys ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The good ol' generic IIWF backdrop is the locale for yet another Monday Musing spot, where Dan Oliver, Adam Peterson, and Awesome T sit in metal folding chairs, with long looks on their faces. T has his hat off, and his dirty blond hair drapes over his face, while Adam and Dan have their hair pulled back into pony tails. Surprisingly enough, Dan Oliver looks up and addresses the camera] DO: A lot of things happened tonight, and I don't think any of them happened in a positive manner. I might just as well address Joe Petrow, as he is the anti-christ in my mind right now. Joseph... dammit Joseph... when we came into this company, we knew we had made the big time. I can remember seeing tapes of you, and watching the IIWF on TV before we came in, and you had to be one of my favourites. I looked forward to working on an undercard as you defended your World Heavyweight Championship, which I was sure you were going to win in Japan. But you didn't win. But that was cool, because you were going to pull it through...win it for the Sychopaths...for Maurice...for everyone who didn't exactly fit in. But you quit, Joe. You quit, and I couldn't understand why you did...you were at the top of your game. I remember seeing you in the dressing room packing up your stuff, and I thought you were going to be back the next week...but I found out from T that you had left because you "didn't like the direction the IIWF was going in". You went home. You took your toys, and you went home. When you came back, Joe, I was happy to see you. I went up to shake your hand, and granted, you didn't have time for me, but it was good to have you back, and then when I heard that you and Maurice were focusing in on the tag division, I figured great! It would add more excitement and thrill to the division that had its share of its boring champions. Whether Team Sychosys or the Down Boys won the belts, the IIWF could hold their heads high. Yet the moment when we beat the Natural Predators in one of the best displays of wrestling that two teams could have put on... you mocked us. Well hell, Mr. Petrow... I know we aren't the self-proclaimed legends that you are... I know that we don't have our own little cheering section... I know that our t-shirts don't sell as many as yours do... but we go out there and wrestle just the same. In fact, we do exactly what you used to do, when your act wasn't as old as it is now. Face it, Joe. You're the past, and we're the present. Upset, you took it out on a man who only wanted one match with you, Richard "Moxy" Blue. All he wanted was a clean shake at you, Joe, because you tried to destroy his dream. The Discordiacs were his dream, Joe, and you mocked it. All he wanted to do is prove that he could beat you... that the great Petrow could be beaten, and he did that. Face it Joe, he had you beaten. And you got your lackey...your brainwashed lackey, Maurice McArthur, to put you over. "Never let Joey lose, Maurice, and the world is yours," I can see you saying to him. Dammit Joe, that's not how the game is played. The winner shouldn't be the one who's got the most friends... the winner should be the one who does the job, without having to do "the job." You know... the Prophets have a point. They're the only team to have beaten us in a one on one match -- albeit by questionable methods -- yet they don't get a title shot... and we don't get a rematch. The Predators got their immediate rematch... but we don't even get booked on a card. I guess we don't have enough "friends." So let me cut this off, seeing as how the Down Boys aren't being happy go lucky in this promo, and the suits are going to be pissed. Joe Petrow... Maurice McArthur... the Down Boys aren't going to ask for a title shot... hell, we shouldn't have to. You know as well as I do that we deserve those title belts more than your ego does. So we'll be waiting. Hell, we might as well wait right along side of the Prophets. But one things for certain. [For the first time in the interview, Dan Oliver stands up, along with Adam Peterson, revealing their blue Discordiac t-shirts with the multicolored Discordiac logo on them. They both take off the shirts, and Awesome T stands up, showing that he is wearing a black t-shirt, with a white outline of the Discordiac symbol on the front. He throws a shirt to both Dan and Adam, who put them on] DO: You and Mota... hell, the suits too. You all took the "colour" out of the IIWF, mon ami. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Black Watch ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The Black Watch storms through the interview room, surprising the reporters. They try to get a few words with the Macbeth cousins.] REPORTER: Gentlemen! Can you follow up on your comments from today? Did you actually say the reformation of The Black Watch was against your wishes? What about the NorthPac Coalition? Gentlemen? AM: GET THA' SODDIN' CAMERA OOT O' ME FACE! [Andrew pushes against the camera lens, sending the cameraman toppling.] DM: We'll do our talkin' in th' ring this Saturday, wha'. Tossers. [Fade, as the cameraman staggers back to his feet.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ NorthPac Coalition ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ["Constable" Tom Turner and "The Immolator" Akira Saito walk onto the IIWF interview set. Saito's eyes burn with a ferocity as yet unseen in his brief appearances on IIWF programming.] AS: Andrew Macbeth! You are nothing but a worthless dog who has no honour! I joined the IIWF to fulfil an oath I made to my friend Timothy...but now you have made it more. I shall have my vengeance...and you will fall! CTT: I don't think you Scotty boys know just what you have unleashed here. Akira is normally a very calm guy but I think you have really ticked him off. As for me...it seems you have announced some kind of reign of terror over the tag division. That's exactly the kind of thing I abhor. Fight in the ring...one on one or two on two. To do anything else just shows what kind of cowards you really are. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Rocket Man" Timothy N. Turner ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ["Rocket Man" Timothy N. Turner walks into the IIWF interview area, still sweating from the main event battle royal. He is clearly happy.] TNT: It is the first week back for the IIWF and the first week for the new Tim Turner! I gave it my all tonight and accomplished exactly what I said I would...entrance into the Intercontinental tournament. I've got the fourth seed and that's a tough spot. First I face someone who is officially nearly my equal and then I have to face the winner of the top seeded match. That's fine by me because that's either Luke Steele or Marty Warnett and I don't have any real fear of either of them. Before I get to one of those guys I have to get past the first round...and that is what I promised...one round at a time. This gives me Christopher Stonebreaker. I bet you would consider this a big coup for you, Chris. Well, you are right. It would be. If you could get past me it would be the biggest win of your IIWF career. That isn't ego on my part...well, maybe a little. Chris? Forget everything you know about me. I am in this tournament for one reason at this moment...to get to the next round. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Charles Scheffield ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [The camera fades in on a crisply clad Charles Scheffield. He appears to be less than his normal dignified self. It is possible to say that the man is not a happy camper.] CSc: Well, the battle is over... and I couldn't care less. They won... I lost. Life goes on. One thing I am tired of being party to are these big events where it's all determined by luck. No... I do not like battle royals, tag teams, triple tag teams... anything like that. All I want is good old fashioned singles matches for a time. The _last_ thing I need I need is more strange matchups that require strange preparation for. All I want to do is fight! [Scheffield pauses. He is speaking at a faster rate than he normally does.] Now, Edmund Fitzgerald, this Wednesday we meet one on one. I don't know about you, but I'm just about ready to take someone apart. "Oh, where's your killer instinct, Scheffield? When are you going to grow some manhood and show everyone how it's done?" You want a killer instinct? That isn't hard to come by. The battle royal didn't prove anything. I shall not let this setback get me down. The thing is, quickly I am running out of practical options... and believe you me... when I run out of practical options... I play a whole different ball game. Right now... this is just a game. But if my strategy continues to fail... it's going to be more than just a game for the people who cross my path. If you don't think there's room for a beast in my soul... you're _dead_ wrong... ...and I make good on my promises. Carry on. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Deathbringer ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: The IIWF interview area. The Blind Guardian is standing alone in front of the camera. He's wearing his usual attire and is smirking for a while before beginning to talk] BG: Just a few minutes ago I took a look at my contract with the IIWF. There is a passage about the different shows and about what I am allowed to say in them. No curses, nothing that would cause old ladies to run away, screaming. And a very special paragraph reads, that appearances on Monday Musing's should not last longer that a few minutes. You'll certainly understand that I don't know how to put all the stuff I wanna tell ya into just a couple of minutes. [The Blind Guardian smirks, and pauses for -- at least fifteen seconds. He then checks whether he can find any dirt underneath his fingernails, tests whether the IIWF banner, that is hanging from the rear wall has been fixed well to it and then turns back to the camera. But it lasts another fifteen seconds, before he begins to speak, still smirking] BG: Okay, let's start with... [pulls a watch out of one of his pockets] -- oh dear, seems to be too late for that. Well... but in the end nothing interesting happened last weekend, so I'll end this right now. Bye. [Fade] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Valtharius the Mad ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [An IIWF sign hangs on a door that has been literally ripped from the hinges. Karachel, The Voice of Reason, sits in a small pentagram on the floor while Valtharius chews on what appears to be a raw leg of lamb.] K: This is our first time in Portland, Oregon... The City of Roses... We have NO idea of where this vaunted interview area is and when we asked some of the technicians all they could do is stutter and stammer. I am sadly unimpressed with their professionalism. I will make a pledge to set straight the IIWF and have them follow my rules... The Rules of the Voice of Reason! [Valtharius stirs a little and wipes the slobber and blood from his face and lets out a huge belch. Karachel leans forward and begins placing black candles on the five points of the pentagram.] K: Tonight's Battle Royal was a nice testing of the waters here in the IIWF. I trust that several of the combatants felt the rage of my slave Valtharius? Several names stand out to us after tonight... but the one that tops that list is none other than Edmund Fitzgerald. Valtharius licked his chops when he heard that you were in the ring! VTM: SINK SHIP!!! ME VALTHARIUS WANT SINK SHIP!!! K: That you will my moronic slave... that you will. It took eight men to drop Valtharius from the ring tonight. Think how a single man will fare against Valtharius? Gecko shall be the first to feel Valtharius's wrath... once the lizard has been skinned then we shall move on to other opponents. VTM: ME WANT SKIN LIZARDBOY!!! VALTHARIUS BE GOOD SKIN LIZARDBOY!!! K: Yes my stupid friend, that you shall do. [Karachel turns away from the slobbering Valtharius and mumbles a few words as a single gun-metal blue flame appears on his finger tip. He lights the candles and a thick oily black smoke begins to quickly fill the room] K: So, until we find this interview area and a few slaves of the IIWF who can speak better than my Valtharius we will talk to you pathetic worms from here! BEGONE! [The oily smoke lashes out and obscures the camera as it fades to black] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Eddy "Flap" Jacks ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: The IIWF locker room, roughly an hour and a half after the conclusion of Saturday Night. Eddy Jacks, disconsolate, slumps against one of the white-brick walls in the Portland arena, his beard now unbraided and scraggly. Jacks has as yet to change, his sweaty singlet clinging to his mammoth frame, straps hanging down around the side. His countenance bears a look of disgust, a look so positively repulsive that various IIWF staffers, frantically scrambling to clean the locker room, avoid the sulking super heavyweight.] EJ: Too_damn_long. Been sayin' that fer years now... I been doin' this fer too damn long. An' ya know why I been at this too long? 'Cuz it seemed like, back when I was just a fat lil' boy in diapers, we had somethin' in this business called loyalty. [Pause.] But that ain't so no more. That's a hard fact o' life, ya know, but it's now clear. Crystal_clear. [Pause.] Y'see, I ain't never made a damn move ta enter Derek Mota's house. I ain't never asked him ta clean my dishes or eat the leftovers. I ain't never thrown a punch at the bastard. I ain't never had any problems wit' Derek Mota, even though he's been livin' in my house over in SCRA. The house I god_damn built wit' my sweat an' tears, my back bearin' the whole weight o' that low-rent Canadian fed. [Pause.] It ain't so no more. Y'see, Mota done gone an' violated one o' the cardinal rules, one o' the rules o' the sport... he came an' got a man he owes angry. An' that just ain't done. Ain't never done, in fact. [Jacks taps his cranium, cracking a smile.] I had a shot at the one thing that woulda made me a name. I had that shot... an' then there's Derek Mota, the man who shoulda walked away from the sport back when he was gettin' laid-out by the show back in the wanin' months o' summer '97... cost me that shot. I ain't whinin' 'cuz I lost ta Icehawk. I didn't lose. I got screwed. Far as I'm concerned, my record in the IIWF's 1 an' 0. No Ike Sampson bull_shit, no Icehawk garbage. S'far as I'm concerned, those two morons ain't fit ta kiss the ground I walk on. [Pause.] An' Mota? Well, I said it before an' I'm gonna say it once again....jun_yer, there's gonna be a crucifixtion wit' no god_damn resurrection an' even though Easter Sunday done came an' gone, yer_name_ain't_frickin'_Jesus_frickin'_Christ. Ya want trouble in the house, boy? Ya got trouble. Ya got trouble everywhere, Mota, 'cuz hate don't have a name an' it sure as hell don't stop at one god_damn federation. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Derek Mota ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Just as the cameraman begins setting up to film the latest Musing, Derek Mota storms onto the stage furiously. It is immediately following the breakup of the Discordiacs, which ended with Mota turning against the whole crew. Derek grabs a steel chair and tosses it at the camera, knocking it off the stand, sending it toppling to the ground. A huge cracking sound follows, and we see the cameraman dropping to the ground right to the edge of the screen. Other than the cameraman's unconscious form, all the camera can pick up is the feet of Derek Mota.] DM: Gonna sue me for that one, huh? Just try it... just try it. I got me a couple of things to say here! Let's start by talking about jobbers. 4M, you ruined Moxy's match tonight. He had the damn thing won and ya had to interfere. Petrow needed you to beat Moxy... he knew he couldn't do it on his own. He never can. Sad when you have to count on a jobber to bail you outta trouble, ain't it? I got one thing ta tell the both of ya. No one beats on Moxy but me. Put me in the ring against the both of ya, dammit. I've beaten Macbeth and Turner in a handicap match before, and look how it ruined them. Petrow, you seem to thrive in the underdog position. Is that how Maurice likes it best? You wanna talk about who's the clone, Petrow? I just seem to remember you as the Mota wannabe, coming out wearin' my clothes, my music playin' in the background. Only thing is... I don't hide behind a jobber. Face it, Petrow... you were always a Discordiac wannabe. You always wished you were as entertaining as Moxy. You know what, Petrow? You are a Discordiac at heart. They have another word for those guys. I call them losers. Oh yeah. I'm tired of playing around now. I want my title back. Icehawk, I'm playin' repo man startin' next week... I want my IIWF Cruiser gold one more time... [After a few seconds of silence, all we see are the feet of Derek Mota approaching the camera once more, one foot winding back, driving into the lens, and then it all turns into snow.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Vagabond" Chris Staley ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Fade up on an empty IIWF interview set. A sound draws nearer. Laughter. Coming from the newest singles wrestler, "Vagabond" Chris Staley. Staley enters the set with a large bruise on his head as a result of Deathbringer's Burial. Staley stops his laughing and gives an evil look to the camera before speaking.] CS: I've got a few points to address so shut the hell up and listen. You may learn something. God forbid that anybody should actually learn something in this day and age. First, I had a chance to review the card on the federation's website. One thing caught my eye that made me nearly bust a gut. "Trying to focus, but overwhelmed by his new surroundings." Puh-freakin-leeze. It wasn't the new surroundings but rather the fact that I was... "tossed in the fire" so early, so to speak. Which brings me to my next point. Serge Annis. You, jackass, are the biggest hypocrite I've ever seen. [in a mocking voice] "Oh, I'm the new Annis. The old Serge was crazy, but the new Serge will let Kowalski kick my ass." THEN TELL ME WHY THE HELL YOU TRIED CHOKING ME IN THE BATTLE ROYAL, ENEMA OF EVIL! Epitome of flat out lying is more like it. Don't worry, Annelid. I'll JCP Edge your ass straight to hell. Say hi to my parents when you get there. By the way, don't know what an annelid is? Look it up in the dictionary, genius! Next time you wanna choke somethin', try choking your chicken, lackey. Then comes dead boy. The guy who shoulda left the IIWF when he was only semi-ancient. Bringer, you had no right coming out there and putting your hands on me. You're just like everybody else. You judge me before I can even do anything. So I'd just like to take this time to say that humanity can kiss my ass. I tried being good to people, even after they persecuted me, but, of course, everybody took advantage of me again. Bringer, at least I don't pretend. I am who I am. You're just a damn ripoff of that guy up north only with a different finisher. Why anybody pushed your lazy ass is beyond me. You want to get in my business, huh? Why don't you cut the crap, take off the mask, drop the horribly overblown gimmick, and fight like a man? And don't give me that bull about how you lead people to death's doors. If you did, you'd know my parents names. Well, Callaway....oops, [smacks himself in the head] I mean "Bringer", come on, what are their names? Exactly, you don't have a clue. You're nothing but a scared man who can't face reality. I should know what death is. I saw it with my own eyes. I've seen Death, and lemme tell ya, you don't look a damn thing like him, you poseur. You got a problem? Next time, say it to my face, that is if you're not hiding behind that mask. Which leads me to a proposition. Spreadbury, seal the deal. I want a three way dance. Me, Annis, and Bringer. Next Saturday Night, the week after, Birthday Bash, whenever, I don't care. Just sign the damn match. Just remember, you two eunuchs. Vengeance is bliss. Welcome to Hell. I'll bring the pain. You bring your rotting carcasses. I'm a terminator, determined to end your life. Oh, and Roberts. You're right. I don't have a brain. I have hate and anger. They control my body. I don't care who I hurt, I just want to hurt somebdody. No remorse. No regret. I wanna make you scream in pain and realize your life's just a losing game. Have a bad day. [Staley knocks the camera out with a savate kick. Fade to black.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Natural Predators ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [A pale amber light comes up, empty gym, save for four figures... the echoes of a jump rope hitting the floor ripple through the space, while the grunts and sliding of weights on a bar indicate one of the other two silhouettes lifting weights. As the camera zooms in, the figures become more clear... Grey Phoenix jumping rope, Bear hefting weight... with Kuyler Greyson standing back talking to a rave-haired woman in a sarapp with traditional Native American symbols across it. As the lights come up better, the woman, a full blooded Native American, is seen standing, holding a medicine bag with the Sioux symbol of the Bear Spirit burned into the leather, as with an iron. Bear grunts loudly as he throws the heavy weight down with a loud clang, throwing his head back and roaring a primal bellow that echoes through the empty gym. Kuyler turns to the raven haired woman, and speaks] KG: So much to think about. You're sure you're up to this? [The woman nods, looking to Grey Phoenix] GP: Lena Eyes-Like-The-Storm is a powerful shaman, Kuy.... KG: Lord knows that the way things are, one could definitely be used. She any good at purging evil? GP: Nah. Her focus is on divination. She's a conduit to the spirit realms. Just like Bear asked for. KG: Pity. IIWF could use her if she could. What a night... [Kuyler rubs his eyes] I mean, new lows from the "favorites"...and Moxy Blue, whatever the hell we make of him...possibly gone for good. [shaking his head] We have tag team champions who aren't exactly worth their salt...and did what they could to humiliate Blue into departing...and yet, instead of answer a challenge we have left sitting for them, go after Gunnar Grizzly Gaines and his "Mystery partner.." B: Gaines.... [the name spoken with a writhing hatred, a wrath that seems to be at the core of the normally good humoured Bear] KG: ...and of all the teams in the IIWF, we seemed to be the only ones interested in seeing the match go uninterrupted. Since everybody loves the thought of just dashing in and disrupting...like Mota after Icehawk... B: ...MOTA.... [Hatred seeping in the words...rich and violent as he whips his head back, clearing the sweat soaked hair from his eyes] KG: ...and to top it all off, we have that fat slob Valtharius come down from his Arctic Wasteland days, killing cameramen, and the "Wrestle Clean" image...trying to end Fitz's wretling days the way Musashi tried to end Icehawk's... B: VALTHARIUS! MUSASHI! [Striking his chest with echoing _thuds_, throwing back his head and roaring, Kuyler and Grey Phoenix looking as Lena prepares the medicine bag, chanting in almost silent whispers] GP: Kuy... I want to know how the hell Musashi got that title match before I did, hmm? I should think the IIWF execs unwilling to let that loose cannon anywhere in the building. Or Gaines... [At the second mention of Gaines' name, the seething rage inside Bear finally lets loose...eyes wide and staring, gazing into the camera as Lena moves behind him, chanting quietly, Kuyler and Grey Phoenix backing away quickly] B: You son of a bitch! Blood-born of a whore and bastard, you who call yourself a grizzly but offer no respect to the spirit you invoke! No man of any honor would play such a ruse upon _any_....and your urine-stained bloodline wallows in the filth of your "prank" with as much pleasure as hogs in a trough....know this....before it is finished, your "dead" child will be the only one of you left to tell the tale. you, your father and his father before him...your harlot-wife...you will all pay. [GP slowly begins moving to him, trying to calm him, as Lena continues to chant] GP: Daniel.... B: NO! [pushing his hand away] Mota... you failed so badly trying to stop me... you couldn't stop me... KG: Daniel, that's enough... B: ...and Valtharius....mad man, giant, creature....you made a real mistake, crossing 4-D....because now you're on a one-way path back to Enigonhahetgea with the rest of his failed demon children.... [Lena speaks...her voice is soft and gentle... as she reaches to Bear's shoulder, stroking it lightly] L: The charm is complete... [While she calms Bear down, Grey Phoenix and Kuyler move aside] GP: He's losing it, Kuy... KG: I don't think so...something he keep ssaying over and over....how 4-D...the Predators....each of us...has to stand for something more than just a won-loss record...how we have to be prepared to fight when it isn't our fight. Look at that idiot Gaines. He B(bleep)t his way to a title shot with his "Mystery Partner"...probably Valtharius, if I know people like him right....just by playing on Joe Petrow's loss. Sure as hell hasn't been as impressive as all that... GP: Like the MacPuff brothers... KG: Ah yes...the "Black Watch". We have a "Black Jesus"....now we have a "Black Watch". GP: New Orleans. KG: Beg pardon? GP: I'm a History buff, remember? Royal Scottish Guard...massacred at the Battle of New Orleans. This "High Elite" unit that never lived up to its potential. Dunkin Donut and the other member of Clan....er, Cream MacPuff... say we can't live up to them. Think he forgets, when we were champions, we accepted a match against them. And they backed down. You want to know why you don't have that title, MacPuff? You couldn't defend it. You were too afraid to. You know what, I don't like Joe Petrow much...especially after this past week...but when he and McArthur won those belts out from under us...in the end...it was a fair match. And when we get our rematch, we'll win them back fair and square. But we lost to the Down Boys as ACTIVE CHAMPIONS....walking down the ramp ready to defend that title week after week. What the hell happened to your bollocks, MacPuff? Guess we know why TNT irked you so damn much. At least he put himself on the line for what he stood for. And love him or hate him....he's more a man than you or your brother ever could be. KG: Ahem... [clearing throat] Anyone else we want to comment on, Phoenix...? GP: Just one... Steve Kowalski, you said anyone, anytime. Musashi steps up and everyone has to admire him, right? Wrong. Get yourself ready, Kowalski. Fair's fair. KG: I don't know why you persist in that, Michael...you know you won't get the match...even if you do, you won't win it. GP: Simple, Kuyler. Kowalski might have enough honor to reply...and I intend to put up one hell of a fight if he does. L: [from off camera] It is done. [the camera pulls back to a wide angle shot of all four figures...Bear with new war paint, bearing ancient symbols on his arms similar to the symbol of the bear on the medicine bag] He may wear the symbol now, as your friend there does....Daniel Twin-Bear has opened his consciousness...and acts now with the blessings of the spirit of the Great Bear... B: And there will be balance. GP: [smiles] Kuy...? KG: Yeah, Mike? GP: Time to put some plans in motion...I get the feeling this is going to be a busy road to Birthday Bash.... KG: Heaven help us... B: Don't worry. It will. [Fade on the four figures to black, Bear's roar echoing through the empty gym.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Machines ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Paul Wong and Simon O'Neal stand in front of the IIWF interview area, immediately after their title match.  Both men look extremely angry.] SO: What the HELL is going o... PW: [quietly] Simon... let me speak. [Simon shuts up, but still glowers at the camera.  Paul continues to speak softly.] PW: President Spreadbury... do you want to know why the IIWF Tag Team Division is considered such a laughingstock?  Why no one treats it seriously?  Why there are rumors that you want to drop the tag team division from the IIWF? It's because of stunts like tonight. Tonight... the IIWF Tag Team Champions, Team Sychosis, defended their belts against the Machines, one of the premier tag teams in the world.  We had already beaten them cleanly before, so both teams had a lot at stake.  We might have won the titles.  Or, they may have beaten us... [Simon starts to say something, but Paul holds him up.] PW: It's true.  Petrow is one of the best, and McArthur is no longer just a joke.  They might have beaten us.  It should have been a great match. What it turned out to be was a joke. We went into the match worrying about the Fabulous Ones.  Turns out they were the only team that DIDN'T show up at ringside.  Natural Predators, Harlequins, Down Boys, Prophets of Rage... all of these other tag teams showed up, and all hell broke loose.  And the match... a main event title match... was completely forgotten. [Paul continues to speak softly and stare into the camera.  He pauses before continuing.] PW: Here's the situation.  My partner, to use an overdone cliché, is the dirtiest player in the game.  There is no angle he doesn't cover, there is no shortcut he hasn't used.  Me, I'm just a frustrated muscleman. Frustrated at all these roadblocks that get into our way. Before, we just wanted the wins to establish our place as one of the best teams in the sport. [Paul shakes his head.] But that isn't possible.  Not in this climate.  Wins aren't enough. It's going to take injuries. [Paul walks off, leaving Simon alone.  Simon still glares at the camera. Finally, a small smirk descends upon his face.] SO: Let the bodycount begin. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ American Dragons ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [We open up on the IIWF interview, immediately following IIWF Saturday Night. Currently standing in front of the IIWF backdrop are Joe Scalercio and Bob Ivey, aka the American Dragons. Both men appeared freshly showered after their loss to the Night Patrol, and both wear their trademark leather jackets] JS: 2-5-2. 2 wins, 2 ties...and 5 losses. Let's face it, we've got the worst record in the tag team division. The hardest working tag team around is also the worst in the IIWF record wise. It's easy to look at our record and say "Damn...why the hell haven't they gone the way of Violence Unlimited or the Alphabet Boys?" Hell, I ain't proud of our record. It flat out sucks. However, let's look at our losses. One against the Fabulous Ones after we were jumped by the Night Patrol prior to the match. One to the Night Patrol, where we were beaten cleanly, one, two three. One to the Rotundos after Bob's dad got a little too hyper. The four-way dance at Ring Wars 5, where we I was eliminated very questionably. BI: And tonight, we lost to the Night Patrol on a bull[BLEEP] DQ! JS: Now, we're not going to whine...we lost 5 times, and it's easy to think we're easy pickings. But only one clean loss, folks. ONE. Night Patrol, you made a BIG mistake. BI: Blazer, Garcia, you two are just two brawling hacks...you're taking on a team blessed with stamina, hungry for a breakout win... and ready and willing to kick your asses come Birthday Bash! Once we kick your butts all over the ring, we'll show everyone here in the IIWF just why we're the future of tag team wrestling! And hey, Prophets? If you EVER hit me with a fish again, I'll take that fish and stick it where the sun don't shine. JS: Hell, that cod smelled better the Dirt Dog. [Both men turn around, showing the dragon logos on their jackets to the camera] JS and BI: Any team, any time... [Fade out on the piercing eyes of the dragons] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Benjamins ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scene opens on Joe and Bobby Benjamin in the IIWF interview room. In front of the giant IIWF logo, Bobby Benjamin is talking in earnest to his younger brother Joe, who is rubbing a part of his lower back with his massive palm. A slight grimace can be seen on his face] BB: [To brother] Y'know, it'll get better... We'll get better... JB: But man, my back... Aw geez it hurts! BB: Y'can't worry 'bout it bro. Trust me, it's gonna get worse -- you're gonna be wishin' for little knocks like that... Now c'mon and get yaself together before the cam... [stops abruptly as he spots the already-filming camera] Aw... [slaps forehead and shakes head] Damn. Folks, we were gonna come out tonight and act all tough in front of ya -- sayin' that for all the times we got knocked down, it didn't hurt one bit... Well, that can't happen now, can it? [Bobby gives his typical 'kid' grin, and Joe manages a weak smile] So much for havin' a rough and tough image, huh? Okay, so we ain't that. We're not guys that've seen a lot of big-time matches, we haven't taken power shots like those yet... it ain't any good pretendin' that we have. We got absolutely hammered on Saturday, I gotta say. D'Artois, Magnusson, you guys smacked us around that ring, and you were unlucky to lose. Ninety-nine times outta a hundred, we probably woulda lost that one -- we were pretty lucky. But... we did win. [An even broader grins spreads out upon his young face] We took all your shots, and gave a couple of our own. That gave us our first win here in the IIWF, and I gotta say that getting the one-two-three was one of the most exciting times in my life. I hope it's gonna be the start of many more... JB: [Still favouring his back) Yeah... We ain't tough guys just yet, but we're gettin' there... slowly. And as soon as I find a good back doctor, we'll be right back on the learnin' trail. [Stifles a cry of pain] BB: We know we can match it here now. We've faced another team and yeah, we got beat up a little, but we came out of it lookin' pretty... [glances at Joe, who looks back at him with another weak smile] ...well, sorta... We've got the moves, it's just a matter of usin' them. So we'll be back, a little wiser and a little more hardened -- ready for whatever's in store for us. Why? [Turns to brother] JB: [Gives his brother a weary look, and lets out a half-hearted:] 'Cos it's all about the Benjamins, baby! BB: [Still with that huge smile on his face] Yeah, that's right! But right now, we gotta go find a chiropracter for ol' Joe here... [Camera fades to black as Bobby helps his ailing brother out of the interview room.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Robert d'Artois & Reiner Ver Magnusson ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scene fades in the Saturday Night locker rooms. Robert d'Artois and Reiner Ver Magnusson are standing there, looking more or less angry, frustrated and disappointed.] RdA: First of all, let me point that the commentators of that show were downright wrong. We haven't loss our debut match. Wrestlers or our quality can't lose to peons such as the Benjamins. They were just lucky and used our travel-related weakness against us. We shouldn't have loss this bout, they know it, we know it, and I'm sure that the fans and officials around here know it as well. There's no way that the greatest tag team to ever step foot in the IIWF could have lost to a lowly tag team such as the Benjamins. RVM: That's a shame, actually. But I'm sure that the IIWF, even in that situation, could measure the greatness of our talent. I'm sure that they can see beyond the so-called official match result and see which team truly shined in that contest. That very team was Robert d'Artois and myself. For all but mere seconds, the Benjamins served as glorified punching bags. RdA: That's true. And besides, our loss isn't really a loss. I'm sure that deep down in their hearts, the Benjamins know that they should have lost this contest, that they should have been beaten, that they are inferior. In fact, I am asking the officials of the IIWF to nullify this "victory" from the Benjamins. A victory that shall never have happened and that does nothing but to put mediocrity on a pedestal. RVM: Exactly. As far as I'm concerned, this match has never happened. But Benjamins, even if your victory didn't exist, your stupidity have ashamed probably all of the IIWF and most of it's fans. I'm sure that nobody can accept here that a team like you could even have a chance to defeat legends such as d'Artois and myself. RdA: Benjamins, let's be realistic. The double-debut match has never really happened. The result was pathetic, useless and silly. We can't lose to you. That's why we would appreciate if the double-debut match could be re-scheduled at a later date. RVM: IIWF, I'm sure that you will all accept our true greatness. I'm sure that you are all eager to forget the double-debut fiasco at the last Saturday Night. Let's pretend that we never debuted here and start all over again. RdA: New standards of excellence shall be set in the IIWF. These standards will be shown by us and only us. The Benjamins, the Prophets of Rage, Team Sychosis, the Down Boys, the Machines, all of you are just a product of the under-skilled American wrestling scene. We are the only wrestlers in this federation. And from what I have see at the Saturday Night show, this affirmation is surely true. RVM: I thought that the IIWF could provide us a good platform to show our vast talents, but from what I see, it's just another of those pathetic little federations. The quality of performers is at an all-time low. The matches on Saturday Night were pathetic and the only highlight was the soon-to-be forgotten Benjamins/d'Artois & Magnusson bout. I'm actually ashamed that some of you, if not all of you, are calling yourselves wrestlers. RdA: You have only seen a very small part of what we can do. But when you will see and understand the quality of the wrestling we provide, I'm sure that you will put yourselves all in a line, waiting to worship, admire and mimic us. RVM: We are the superior wrestling talent in this federation. And the doubters shall be proven wrong. RdA: We just can't be beat. [They quit the locker rooms as the screen fades to black.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Fabulous Ones & The Kabuki Kid ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Bright and sunny day, Gold's gym, out on the beach, Fort Lauderdale, Florida. The gym is enclosed by a four foot fence. Many women are standing around the area. All the equipment is in use by many muscular men and women. To the left is Franco Columbo, a former Mr. Olympia, who's training with "The Universal Heartthrob" Agito Nakajima. They're doing some dead-lifts. "Sweet" Sho Satsuma, shirtless, is off further to the left signing some autographs for the fans, which are mostly females. Ms. Miki finishes up on the rowing machine as the camera focuses in on her. She's wearing a blue, one piece, tight fitting, workout outfit and her hair is tied back. A towel is thrown to her off camera. She wipes off her forehead.] MM: [smiling] Konnichiwa, IIWF! It's nice to be back. But, let's get to the juicy stuff, shall we? Paulie-boy, you got your revenge, it would seem. You handled me like a true gentlemen. [Ms. Miki gently messages her neck seductively.] Is that how you treat women? Ms. Miki displays anger facially for the first time ever.] Guess what? I'm still her! You couldn't get the job down, just like when you thought we were an item. I saw what you did on the "Countdown to Saturday" show this past Friday. You were looking for me, with that loser partner of yours Simon O'Neal. But, I wasn't there. [Sho walks over and sits down next to Ms. Miki in the sand.] SSS: How's the new BMW? Looks like I trashed another one. [Laughing] Look over there. [Sho points in the direction of Agito working out. The camera zooms in on the action.] SSS: Agito's back is feeling a lot better since that fifteen foot powerbomb through the scaffolding at the last pay-per-view. You see the guy who's helping in his recuperation, that's former Mr. Olympia, Franco Columbo. The forces are regrouping and they're all gunning for you. [Sho stands up, brushes off the sand, puts out his hand to help Ms. Miki up. Sho then walks over to a weight bench where a muscular dynamo of a man is bench pressing a lot of weight. The man's muscle look like they're going to rip through his skin.] SSS: And this guy is gunning for you as well Wong. I'm sure you remember him from the "Countdown to Saturday" incident. He's the man who's going to win the King of the Cruisers tournament, the Kabuki Kid. I believe you have a match with him in the CIWF, then the SJPW? You really stepped into a rats den on this one. You messed with another man's women. [Kabuki Kid finishes with a loud grunt. He sits up.] KK: Wong-san, I wish to give you a warning. I'm ready for our encounters, and I'm going to teach you a lesson in pain. I wont stop coming after you, until you're history. I'm going to make sure you can't touch my wife ever again. I can't sleep at night knowing you're still around. You could be here for all I know. I can't let you continue. You will go down. Sayonara agaru dansei! [The Kabuki Kid lays back down on the bench and starts to do another set of presses.] SSS: Before I forget, I've got a few words for a new team of old fossils that I bet didn't think we'd find out about. Black Watch, you better watch yourselves when you're talking about Japan, because the best damn team ever to step into IIWF just became aware of you. You run at the mouth like your something, when you're really nothing. You want a piece of the Fabulous Ones, you've got it. [Sho turns around and walks off. The camera zooms in on a few women around the gym area whom are watching the Fabs workout. Their eyes light up as Sho walks from the camera. They run over towards him with paper and pens in hand.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ KING OF THE CRUISERS TOURNAMENT PARTICIPANT: "Armitage" Steven Spector ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [SCENE: Newark International Airport, at the far end of one of the famed airport's many terminals. Over the PA system we hear a voice booming out an announcement.] PA: Cathay Airlines Flight 5874 will be boaring for Nagoya, Japan in approximately 30 minutes. [With that announcement, a figure turns from the window and starts to walk toward a seat. As he walks, a young boy walks up to him and tugs at his jacket. The figure turns around, revealing himself to be Steve Spector. The boy, recognizing Spector, holds up a notepad and pen, which Spector grabs. He looks at the boy, then the notepad, and scribbles in something. He hands them back to the boy, who looks at the notepad and beams before running off. Spector turns and lets out a sigh.] SS: Cute kid, always am a sucker for 'em. [Spector sits down on a nearby chair.] SS: Well... this is gonna be a long flight, so I'm gonna take the earliest flight I possibly can. Boy... the longer I've been away from Japan the more I miss it... That's where it all began for me... and that's where it's all going to go down. [Spector shakes his head.] SS: Joey Rappoport... am I seeing a little bit of overconfidence in your voice? Or is it that you're actually serious in wanting to put me out of this tournament? I think you were the one to make the first mistake here, Joey. Thinking I'm overconfident? I don't underestimate an opponent unless they deserve to be... it's that simple. I'm not coming into this tournament to underestimate anybody, no matter who I'm gonna be up against. [Spector stands up and walks over by the window again.] SS: But... I'll say this right now. I'm hoping that Boston plans a parade for ya... It'll be October 1986 all over again in Beantown... so don't set yourself up for disappointment that early. [Spector points to the New York Mets jersey he's wearing.] SS: You want the match for the fans... you wanna put on a show for the ages? Japanese fans deserve no less than the best... see you in the ring. [Camera fades out.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ KING OF THE CRUISERS TOURNAMENT PARTICIPANT: Joey Rappoport ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Joey Rappoport is standing in the IIWF Interview Room with his SJPW Middleweight Title draped over his left shoulder as the camera slowly fades in.] JR: There's always somebody... there's always somebody who wants to burst your bubble; somebody who wants to knock you down before it even starts. Their intention is to not only crush your spirits, but make you question your own credibility as well. There's somebody like that in every wrestling organisation, and as luck may have it, I'm matched up against him in the first round of the King of the Cruisers tournament. [Joey Rappoport runs a hand through his hair and smiles proudly before speaking again.] JR: Steve Spector... you don't seem to get just who Joey Rappoport is and what he stands for, do you? See, in my mind, the amount of scars on a man's body is not what makes the man, it's how much he has inside. [Joey Rappoport points to his heart.] JR: Now you can go on and keep blabbering about my lack of "bad-guy qualities"; that's perfectly fine with me. Because once you've stepped into the ring with me, you'll wish you didn't consider me a pushover. My whole philosophy in wrestling is "my opponents have my respect until I see fit that they don't deserve it". Well, you're starting to cross the line, Steve. When you question just what makes me tick, it starts to tick me off. Who are you to judge somebody who gives 110% of his abilities night in and night out, and is currently a champion in one of the premier wrestling organisations in the world? How can you say that 110%_just_won't_cut_it with you. Well, I think it can, because it's the best thing I can do. I'm going into this match with the mindset that I'm going to give you a match for the ages, and wrestle my heart out. Because that's what Joey Rappoport is all about. No fancy gimmicks, no battle scars, no tough guy attitude. I'm representing all those little guys in the world who are trying to climb that final rung on the ladder and dethrone the giant. Sure, I'm a relative unknown, but that's not going to stop me. It never has. It never will. Steve, on the 19th, you're going to see first-hand, what Joey Rappoport is all about. Then we'll see if your scars come in handy. [Joey Rappoport stands proudly as the SJPW Middleweight Title is glimmering from the camera's lens. The camera slowly fades out after a few seconds.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ KING OF THE CRUISERS TOURNAMENT PARTICIPANT: Youth Gone Wild ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scene: An airport where Youth Gone Wild is preparing to catch a flight to Portland for his Saturday night match with Icehawk. He's a little pressed for time, with the UWF holding a World Title tournament simultaneously with the King of the Cruisers belt, so we sort of have to catch him when we can... Uh...Wild?] YGW: Oh, sorry. [YGW stops chatting up an attractive stewardess long enough to give us a few words.] YGW: All right, I've been watching IIWF tapes, reading the dirt sheets, calling the hotline... Okay, mostly I've been calling the hotline trying to leave a message for Becky LaRue, but I've been doing the scouting on Icehawk, too. [YGW stands up, turns to the stewardess, and gestures to her to wait while he finishes his interview.] YGW: You see, everywhere I go, people have been telling me I don't have a chance. "You can't expect to go into the IIWF Arena and beat Icehawk, Wild!" "The IIWF won't let one of its' own lose on their home turf!" And I know that wrestling the IIWF Cruiserweight champion, in an IIWF ring, on an IIWF TV show, makes me an automatic underdog. And I won't deny that you have an edge there, and that doesn't even take into account the fact that you're a great wrestler. [YGW starts pacing back and forth, as the excess energy begins to build up.] YGW: But you know something I've learned, watching you on tape, Icehawk? I'm not the only one with problems in this sport. I watched Takezo Musashi, who I remember back when he was sane, go postal on you. Great job pulling out the win, Icehawk, but here's my point. When I come here, I get to leave all my problems behind. Hardcore Stevie, the Wilder tramp, Chalmers, none of them are making the trip. All the distractions, all the interference...won't be there on Saturday. Your problems aren't going anywhere. And don't get me wrong, I want this match to be just between Icehawk and Youth Gone Wild. But I'm in your house, and that gives you an advantage. I just want you to know that I have something to offset it. Stay healthy, 'Hawk. I'm on my way. [YGW turns to the stewardess, asking her if she's going to Portland. What luck! She is. YGW breaks into a huge grin as the camera fades.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ King of the Cruisers Tournament Participant: "Iconoclast" Sean Watts ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [As the locker room area of SJPW fades into view, the subtitle 'Sunday Night -- SJPW' scrolls into view at the bottom. The locker room itself is rather uninteresting, a small dull grey room meant for gaijin, and in this case quite possibly problem gaijin. Two unidentified voices can just be made out as the clip starts.] #1: I got word he's in the hallway. #2: --And we're at speed now. #1: The mics all read -- [Before the soundman can finish the steel door slams open, crashing raucously against a concrete wall before Sean Watts storms in, eyes flashing thunder and lightning. He wipes at his forehead with a towel, then uses it to cover his tousled and tangled hair. The sour expression on his face becomes quite evident, especially when he reaches out to pull the camera close to his face for a rather awkward manual zoom.] SW: I'm not exactly one hundred percent happy with what happened out there. But lets just sweep aside all the regular wrestling trash talk and psychology. I'm simply going to be honest for a couple of minutes here. But this message is only for Tiger claw. The honest thing for me to say here is that you're the only man in this tournament that I really respect. And you're the only, only opponent that's given me some butterflies about facing, and possibly even a little tinge of fear. We'll see if I can overcome that or not soon enough. And I don't give a [BLEEP] what anyone else thinks about what I just said. I've got a flight to catch, and _you_ didn't draw Tiger Claw. [Fade.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ KING OF THE CRUISERS TOURNAMENT PARTICIPANT: "Playboy" Ronnie D ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [We open up on a very lavish restaurant. The camera makes it's way through the main dining room, and in it we see men and women decked to the nines in expensive clothes, eating expensive looking meals. The grey walls and black furniture are bathed under a faint white light as violin music plays in the background. The camera seems to be making it's way to a room in the back, sealed off by a black drape... The camera slowly enters the room, and in it we see a young man and woman dining, seemingly unaware of the presence of the camera. But they are no ordinary couple. Well, at least the man isn't ordinary... For he is none other than the marquee man, the icon and the god of wrestling, "Playboy" Ronnie D. Ronnie wears a black suit with a black tie, the women wears a white high-cut, low-slit gown... Yeah, right! It's low-cut and high-slit, just the way Ronnie D likes 'em! He talks to the curly-haired, big busted blonde and in turn, she listen... patiently. The microphone picks up their conversation, or to be precise, his monologue.] Ronnie: So, there I was, I whippin' him from pillar to post... [The camera shows a fast-motion shot of "Superior" Sean Stevens splashing Ronnie D in their confrontation on SJPW Ring Wars. We return to Ronnie and his date, who is listening intently.] Ronnie: I mean, I was teaching this kid a LESSON! [Another fast-motion shot of Stevens grinding Ronnie's face to the mat zips by before we go back to the private room.] Ronnie: I was pulling out ALL the stops! [The fast-motion shows Ronnie missing an enzuigiri and landing flat on his face. We return to Ronnie and his lady friend.] Ronnie: The kid just couldn't keep up with me. [The fast-motion shot shows Ronnie getting hit with a HUGE Shooting Star Press by Stevens! As we return to Ronnie and his companion, Ronnie blows on his knuckles and rubs them against his black lapels.] Ronnie: And easy as apple pie, I pinned him smack down for the 1... 2... 3. [The regular-speed video shows Ronnie limping away from the ring. We cut back to the lovely couple.] Ronnie: I guess, if I wanted to, I could march over to SOW Headquarters and pull that SOW strap right off Stevens' skinny little waist right now. I could melt it down into a ring or something... But when we get back to my place, baby cakes, I'm gonna be pullin' _your_ strap off and a WHOLE LOT MORE! And that's more important than Seany-boy's tin. Woman: Hmm... Who says we have to wait 'til we get to your place, Icon? Ronnie: Whoa! Noooo-BODY! [Ronnie and his foxy female friend hold hands and giggle as the camera fades out.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ KING OF THE CRUISERS TOURNAMENT PARTICIPANT: Jeremy Fullbright ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Scene: Jeremy Fullbright is sitting alone in an empty terminal at the Portland Airport...] JF: Surprise. Well, here I am. I'm on my way to the Neh-gowee-ah Dome in good 'ol Japan. I just found out from the IIWF suits, that I, the GFWA TBC in all his grandeur and splendour, will be facing the legend to many, the idol of few, Sengir. [Jeremy Fullbright unzips his Carhart jacket to reveal a T-Shirt bearing "I CA O BR TE PN" across the chest.] Sengir, I have something to admit. I've seen you around, an may I say... YOU SCARE THE HOLY CRAP OUT OF ME! All that gothic stuff? I feel like I'm watching a friggin' Vampire! I hope the King of the Cruiser officials issue disqualifications for neck biting... But as usual, I digress. Sengir, I'll gather my wits, and come after you like a cat in heat. I may be an underdog... I may not go far, but rest assured... I CAME TO BRING THE PAIN! [Fade to black.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Real Deal" Luke Steele ------------------------------------------------------------------------ [Fade up to the IIWF interview area. As the camera's view lightens to show the entire set, we can see the "Real Deal" Luke Steele walk in from the left side of the screen. Steele is wearing a pair of blue jeans and is shirtless, and he's carrying a chair in his hand. Steele stops directly in front of the camera, and mumbles, looking down at the floor.] LS: Juu suhhh muh tuh buh, Spruuhhbuyy. [The cameraman asks him to speak up.] Cameraman: Uh, I didn't quite catch that. Could you repeat it? [Steele looks up, right at the lens. His eyes burn with anger, and he raises the chair over his head at the camera.] LS: I said, "Just send me the bill, Spreadbury!" [Steele swings the chair over his head, connecting with the camera. Blackness.] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+