________ ______ __ ____ ___ __ . _ ___ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| / /\ | | || \| \ /\ \ / |\ || / \| | | | || | \ v v / | __| \__ /__\ | | ||__/| |/__\ v | \||| __|-| | |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| \ \| v | \|__/ \| | || \_|| | | __________________________/...hour one...\........|...|.......|....| LIVE! IIWF Coliseum, Portland, Oregon 2 May 1998 [The opening graphics fade through to interior shots of the jam-packed IIWF Coliseum, fireworks shooting out from either side of the huge video wall above the entranceway at the head of the aisle and streaking up into the rafters above above the ringside enclosure, seemingly triggering further fireworks, and sending a rain of white sparks down into the ring. Finally, flames shoot up from each of the four corners of the ring from pyros mounted on the ringposts. Huge pop from the twenty thousand plus fans crowding the floor seating and filling the mezzanine, lining the entire arena. Over these scenes comes the voice of veteran announcer, Tim Dross:] TD: Welcome everybody to Portland, Oregon! Welcome everybody to the home of the world's number one wrestling organisation! Welcome everybody to the IIWF Coliseum! [Big pop as more fireworks erupt above the ring, showering sparks down towards the fans in the floor seats, huge explosions and flashes of light momentarily illuminating even the dark corners of the cavernous Coliseum. Dross continues:] TD: Welcome everybody to IIWF Saturday Night! We are just two weeks away from our next pay-per-view spectacular, Birthday Bash... and here comes the IIWF World Heavyweight Champion! [In what is becoming an anthem for the IIWF, "Don't Fear the Reaper" slides in its eerie chords. With that, the crowd rises to their collective feet to pay homage to the undisputed IIWF champion. Steve "The Fury" Kowalski, looking a little more tired than usual... looking a little more worse for wear, walks down the aisle. With the IIWF Heavyweight Championship belt over his shoulder, the New Jersey Nightmare limps to the ring. In there, He is drowned in cheers and the ubiquitous chant of "SKULL-PUMP! SKULL-PUMP!", the crowd hailing their king!] SR: Here, Dross, let me handle this one. My buddy, the Fury, needs a little support with all the nay-sayers out there. TD: Be my guest. Folks, just hours ago, it was confirmed that the main event at Birthday Bash will pit Steve Kowalski against Serge Annis in a battle for the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship -- and we're about to see the contract signed. [Roberts gleefully meets the champ in the ring. With microphone in hand and a quick handshake to Kowalski, Steve speaks.] SR: Champ. Y'know, I love calling you the champ. Champ, so far you've run the most rugged course any IIWF champion ever ran. You've taken all comers and sent their asses packing. Now they got another chump for you to chomp: Serge Annis! SK: Well, Stevo, it's like this. I'm gonna wipe the mat with his sorry ass! [Huge Fury pop!] I don't know what [BLEEP]s he's sucked to get this shot, but he must've done one helluva job on Greg's knob! I've stomped every bad ass in this sport an' ol' Serge will jus' be 'nother to fall. Jus' in case yer wonderin' how I'm gonna do it, watch as I take 'Bringer apart tonight! Three words: SKULL [BLEEP]IN' PUMP! [Another explosion as the champ refers to the most devastating move in the industry.] SR: Fury, I personally don't have a doubt in my mind that you will tear through the competition like a frat boy through a keg. But I gotta ask, buddy... Journalistic code, you know.... TD: [over the headset] Oh, please. What does he know about journalism? SR: How do you feel? I mean, I know they checked you into St. Joseph's last week. To be perfectly honest, people are worried. Not me, but other people. SK: Let 'em worry. They worried 'bout me before every defence I had. An' they're still worryin' how to stop me. I jus' don't know how many times I have to lay it out there for everyone. I'm a broken down son of a bitch! I ache! I piss blood! I have to pop my shoulder back in every other mornin'! Thanks to those camera monkeys, ya got to see my little shower episode! Does that make me a beatable champion? Does that make me a targeted man? Damn right it does! SR: It does? SK: Yeah. But there is one thing I got, that the rest of those patsies ain't got. I got [BLEEP]in' heart! [Big Fury Pop!] Yeah, I got bad [BLEEP]in' grammar. I ain't never gonna be a model. I'm no technical wizard. Sometimes, I'm dumber than a bag of hammers. I ain't got no gimmick. But I ain't never needed one. 'Cause I got heart! So all ya walkin' dead men... All ya "Sychotic" idiots... All ya scripture quotin', chop meat slingin', steroid shootin' clowns, ya can sit there an' dream of how ya can be the _man_! All the schemes an' plans that never get it done! It jus' takes one thing. It takes heart! SR: You got that right, champ. Since we have to do this anyways, what do you say we bring out Spreadbury and Anus? We got to sign the big match sometime. SK: Fine with me. Hey, Danny! Bring out the school-boy! [The crowd divert their attention back to the aisle way as the President of the IIWF walks down the aisle, contract in hand. Following behind him is IIWF VP Gregg Osterhout, and behind him, the challenger, Serge Annis. Annis is in his wrestling gear of black boots and pants, and wears a "Napalm Enema" t-shirt. Annis looks out to the crowd, and a loud "ANNIS! ANNIS!" chant breaks out, which is eventually drowned out by chants of "SKULL-PUMP! SKULL-PUMP!" Serge snickers for a moment, and steps up onto the apron, and walks over the top rope to meet Steve Kowalski, face to face, nose to nose, champion to challenger. Dan and Gregg make their more conventional entrance by climbing the steps and sliding through the ropes. In the ring, Annis and Kowalski stare straight into each other's eyes, despite a slight height advantage for the reformed Epitome. The IIWF President asks for the microphone, but Serge Annis extends his hand and swipes it away from Steve Roberts, raising it to his lips, all the while not removing his icy glare into the retina of the IIWF champ.] SA: I've cracked ribs for this promotion. Over six different concussions. I've broken my wrist once or twice. A total of one hundred and seventy two stitches... in the last six months. [Annis points to the fleshy three-inch scar running over his Adam's Apple.] SA: I've spilled more blood than anyone else. And each and every time, it hurts. I wake up with the same damn pains you do, Kowalski. I bear the scars and reminders each and every day I bring myself to actually look in the mirror. I've given my health for this company, much like yourself. But you don't see me out here whining about it. [Annis takes a step back, but continues to glare at the champion. Serge points at Kowalski now.] SA: Let's cut to the chase, Steve. You're making excuses before the final test. You're hurting. One of these days, someone might just bump you off. It isn't because you're hurt, 'champ. Everyone in that locker room goes through the same damn schedule that you do. There's some crazy S.O.Bs out in the back that put you to shame when it comes to injury. And they go on with it. That's part of the business. And when someone beats you down, one, two, three, Kowalski, it isn't because you're weak and hurt. It's because someone out there is better than you. Someone wanted it more than you. And that somebody is me, Kowalski. [A big mixed pop from the Furies in the crowd, and the Wrestle Clean supporters. Kowalski seems a tad taken back by Annis' words, but quickly shakes it off with a nasty remark not picked up by cameras.] SA: Now you say it takes heart. I'll be the first to admit... I have no heart. I only have the will. Desire. Respect. I've gone through too much in my life to have any means of a heart left intact, Fury. There's nothing left of the ol' ticker. What's replaced that heart is _pain_, Steve. That's why I love pain. That's why you don't hear me out here whining and making excuses for being run down. You're still in your damned _twenties_ Kowalski. There's no way you're run down. Each and every pain I get in the morning serves as a reminder of just why I am here, Steve... each pain brings me one step closer to your title. To the pinnacle of the wrestling world. The IIWF World championship. [Annis looks over at Osterhout, standing next to the esteemed President.] SA: It's taken me over three months to get myself off probation, Steve. I've passed every test this man has thrown at me, with flying colours. I've earned my title match. It wasn't given to me for name's sake. It isn't some marketing scheme. What it is... is two of the baddest, roughest, meanest and by far... _toughest_ wrestlers ever in the IIWF kicking the [bleep] out of each other... all for the IIWF World title. Only one man can walk away with that title, and I haven't spent sixteen months breaking my back each week, day by day, to walk away empty-handed, yet again. I didn't survive Genesis for the heck of it. I worked my goddamned a... [Annis looks over at Osterhout, who shakes his head no at the chance of profanity.] SA: I've worked my butt off for this, Steve. And I'll be damned if I walk away empty-handed again after everything that this man... [Points to Gregg.] This man... [Points to Dan.] The people out there... [Points to the crowd.] ...and you... [Points to the IIWF champion.] ...have put me through. [Before Annis can continue, Kowalski cuts in, grabbing the microphone away from Annis.] SK: Before ya pass that mic off, lapdog. I'd like a chance to rebutt. I call ya a lapdog 'cause that's what ya've become. Yer probation ain't been nuthin' by a test by a bunch of suits. Test to see if they can keep the resident village idiot of the IIWF down! [Big Fury Pop!] That's right, Jackass. Difference between ya an' me is I bullied my way to the gold. _You_ hafta get permission! It jus' goes to show how friggin' stupid ya are. To think I hurt like everyone else. To think everyone else in the locker room goes through what I go through. But then 'gain, what do ya know? Yer no _champion_! [Huge Fury pop!] An' ya never will be! [Another big pop as Kowalski jabs a finger towards Annis, the fans taking up the chant of, "SKULL-PUMP! SKULL-PUMP! SKULL-PUMP!" once more!] Any man that has to conform to someone else's rules jus' so he can get his can kicked... [Kowalski looks out to the crowd momentarily, as if choosing his next word carefully, as if aiming it at Annis like a hunter aims a gun at his quarry.] ...is _pathetic_! I hope yer proud, Serge. In trade fer becoming the "Lethal Protector" of the Double Eye an' gettin' yer shot... Ya traded in yer pride... Yer respect... Yer last bit of manliness. To become the whore of the IIWF, bending over at every request! [Monstrous Fury POP! Annis struggles to contain himself, holding back what could be an ugly brawl. The IIWF President looks warily at the champion, fearful of a confrontation.] Okay, _lapdog_, give it up. I want to hear what Danny has to say. [Annis steps back, eyeing the champion, and hands the mic to the IIWF President, Daniel Spreadbury. Spreadbury lifts up a clipboard, with the championship contract.] DS: Mr. Kowalski... Mr. Annis. I have here the contract for the main event for the next pay-per-view spectacular, Birthday Bash, which will take place in this very arena in just two weeks. Due to the past confrontations between the two of you, as well as the outside interference that seems to follow the both of you, not to mention the intensity of competition that is endemic in any IIWF championship match... I have added a special stipulation! [Big surprised pop from the teaming thousands in the arena! This also catches the interest of Serge Annis. Kowalski, on the other hand, looks bored by the whole thing.] To keep the situation well in hand, I have added a special guest referee. [Annis, suspicious, gesticulates to ask who it is, but the President denies him.] I'm sorry, Serge. I'm keeping that information confidential, until a later date. Steve, you don't seem to be to enthusiastic. SK: I've hit every curve ball ya tossed me outta the park so far. One more home run don't make a difference to me. Hell, sometimes, I'd like to take a swing at ya! [Kowalski takes a step forward, Annis takes a step forward and Spreadbury takes a step back. At this point VP Gregg Osterhout takes the clipboard from Dan's hand and gets between all of the men, hoping to diffuse the situation.] GO: Steve, let's keep this calm. We just want to get the contract signed and be on our way. If you would? [Kowalski snatches the contract, scribbles with the pen and tosses it to Annis.] SK: Wrestle Clean, right Greggy? GO: Right. That's right, Steve. SK: Wrestle _this_. [Pointing to himself, the crowd goes wild. Annis, eyes never leaving Kowalski's presence, signs the contract as well. Handing it back to Osterhout, Annis stands tall. The Vice-President motions to both the challenger and President, that it's time to go. As they are about to leave, Spreadbury turns around.] DS: Steve, I know there has been a lot of animosity between the two of us. But given your physical state, I would just like to say you don't have to go through with this if you don't feel up to it. [The crowd jeers the IIWF President, who looks out at the front row of the fans with a look of appeal on his face. He turns back to Kowalski, just in time to be shoved hard by the IIWF World Champion!] TD: [over the headset] Oh my, this looks bad. SK: What'd ya say? [Seeing this, the "Lethal Protector" blocks the champion's path.] SA: You might want to take his advice, Kowalski. SK: [smiling] I'll give ya some advice. [*SMACK!* Fury Explosion! The New Jersey Nightmare belts Annis so hard, he stumbles back, knocking Spreadbury and Osterhout out of the ring! Steve Roberts also ducks out of the ring to return to the broadcast table as the crowd launch into a huge chant of "SKULL-PUMP! SKULL-PUMP!" Kowalski gets in Annis' face:] SK: We don't gotta wait 'til to B-Day! We don't gotta wait fer the ref! We can do this right _now_! [Annis balls up his right hand for the retaliation and the crowd eggs him on. He cocks back, ready to let fly...then backs up. Backs up and rolls out of the ring. With both Spreadbury and Osterhout talking to him, Annis backs away, clearly gritting his teeth in an effort to restrain himself. The trio makes its way back up the aisle, while the crowd's distaste for the lack of a physical confrontation is evident by the boos raining down. Kowalski picks up the mic for a few last bits of wisdom.] SK: I see the leash is pretty short, Anus! Yer _real_ championship material! I jus' want to thank the IIWF management fer pickin' a real ruff an' tumble sonuva bitch to meet me at B-Day! It will be my muther[BLEEP]in' pleasure to tear that punk a new cornshoot! Jus' like I'm gonna do to 'Bringer tonight! Don't Fear the Reaper, baby! [Annis keeps his back towards the ring, resisting the temptation to heed the taunts directed at him and fly into a violent rage. Suddenly, the fans collectively draw in their breath as a figure in loose-fitting black garb, his face also blackened up with paint, vaults nimbly over the elevated crowd barriers half way up the aisle and drops down in front of the trio in a fighting stance.] TD: Oh my goodness! Takezo Musashi is confronting Serge Annis! He's confronting Spreadbury and Osterhout! SR: Wooooo! Punk-ass pencil-pushers are gonna get clocked! [The crowd recognises Musashi beneath his shadowy attire and immediately give vent to deafening jeers. Unheeding, Musashi pirouettes on one leg, snaking out his foot at blazing speed, striking Serge Annis full force in the face with a teeth-rattling savate kick. Annis, taken by surprise, clutches his mouth and lolls backwards, staggering back down the aisle and into the concrete. The President and VP scurry out of the way and back towards ringside as Annis drops, and immediately, they are each surrounded by several members of the security team. The Enigma's eyes blaze in a fury after them.] TM: It is well that you have managed to hide yourself behind your lackeys, you feeble cowards. On such an evening as this, when my soul swells with anger at the turn of events taking place before my eyes, I would have ripped you into bloody shreds. So... you have granted Serge Annis the title shot at Birthday Bash. Despite your promises to the contrary, the Enigma has been passed over yet again, and the destiny that is mine to have, the World's Heavyweight Championship, has once again been wrenched away from my grasp. No matter... it is just as I always suspected when dealing with the petty bureaucrats and officials. They lack a warrior's strength and courage. Their affairs are settled through haggling and treachery, not through the blood and valour of combat. But you don't even begin to comprehend your folly. You think you're holding me back, curbing the tide of chaos that sweeps through the organisation you're paid to govern... but all along you're just stoking the white hot rage that lies within. [Cut briefly to Steve Kowalski, who watches the proceedings from the ring with a smirk.] Do you think that I'm going to just disappear if you ignore the challenges that I lay down to the champion? Do you think that the violence I unleash will be hindered? Do you think that this company dog that grovels on the floor before us... [Musashi gestures towards Serge Annis, who, although unheeded by the Enigma, has shaken off the cobwebs and stands tall, glowering] ...can even contain a single breath of wind in the hurricane of fury that I weave? Nothing has been accomplished by you... The Enigma still rages unchecked... And I assure you by the blackened hate that binds me together, I _will_ rise to the peak of the mountain and take the World's Heavyweight championship. I _will_ rule the IIWF. Nothing you can ever put in front of me will stop my onslaught. And from that point on, the wheel of fate turns inevitably... Chaos envelops the IIWF. [At this proclamation, the Enigma suddenly springs forward, executing a hand spring cartwheel down the aisle, springing up with a flying vertical body press into the huddle of security guards surrounding the President and VP. Huge pop! Both Osterhout and Spreadbury tumble down to the concrete along with a good portion of their bodyguards, and the Enigma begins to savagely claw his way through the rank and file to get to the officials themselves.] TD: Oh my goodness! Bedlam has broken out once again, as the Enigma is hell-bent on venting out his title contention frustrations on our head officials! We must have order restored here! SR: Give that Osterhout punk one for me, 'Nigma! That four-eyed asshole cut back on my travelling expense account last week! TD: And here comes Serge Annis to help break up the fray! Annis didn't offer a retaliation earlier, perhaps because he didn't want to stuff up his chance to be removed from probation, or perhaps because he's just striving his hardest to keep things clean, but now that Musashi has attempted to attack the officials, I guess he's free to enforce the law! [With the help of Serge Annis, the security team is able to restrain the Enigma before he starts to rip the head officials into shreds. Musashi struggle violently, but with such a body of men restraining him, he cannot resist being dragged away up the aisle. Steve Kowalski looks on in amusement from the ring as the officials scurry to straighten their ties and get the hell backstage. Suddenly, Musashi looks up, and intensity burning in his eyes, yells out at Steve Kowalski.] TM: You've got it easy for now! They gave the shot to the washed-up company man, and they saved your title into the bargain! But I'll be back for you, Kowalski! If I have to wade through a burning pit of lava while Kami demons gnaw upon my mind, I'll be back for you! You may be hurt now, you may think our first match was rough, but when we are done at last... your suffering will be eternal! [At this point, Kowalski is pretty much having a good time and yells...] SK: Taxes are eternal. My hospital payments are eternal. An' jus' in case nobody told ya, my title reign's gonna be eternal! [Chuckling to himself] Y'know, Mushi, every time I look at ya, I say to myself, "Jeez, the wheel's spinnin' but the hamsters gotta be dead!" [Big pop from the crowd!] Let me give ya some advice, lap chow. Sit the [BLEEP] down an' reflect on yer self. Yer small change. An' me... I'm a fist full a hundreds! [Annis and the rest of the crew pull Musashi to the backstage area, as Kowalski waves a mocking goodbye. The Furies in the crowd pick up on the scene and follow with a "Nah Nah, Nah Nah Nah Nah... Hey-hey-hey... Goodbye!" chant! As Kowalski showboats in the ring, holding his IIWF World Heavyweight Championship belt aloft, cut down to the broadcast table at ringside, at which are seated Tim Dross and "Soundbite" Steve Roberts.] TD: Howdy, folks, and welcome to another live and loud edition of IIWF Saturday Night! I'm Tim Dross, and beside me, as always, is my broadcast colleague and tag team partner, "Soundbite" Steve Roberts. Steve, we are now just fourteen short days away from the IIWF's next pay-per-view spectacular -- and we have our main event signed! Kowalski vs. Annis with a special guest referee! SR: I know who it is, Dross. TD: No you do not, Steve Roberts. SR: Well, I knew who it was once. TD: I won't even ask how that turned out for you, Steve Roberts. Fans, we'll have more announcements concerning Birthday Bash on the show tonight, and we're set to get comments from the IIWF President before the night is over to finalise the complete line-up for that big, big show to celebrate the IIWF's second anniversary. But more importantly, we have some incredible action coming your way right here tonight: no fewer than three IIWF Championships will be on the line in the next one hundred and twenty minutes. As you heard at the top of the show, Steve Kowalski will be defending his IIWF World Heavyweight Championship against Deathbringer, in a match that could radically alter the complexion of Birthday Bash. SR: It could be 'Bringer going up against Annis at the Bash, Dross. And there's no small amount of history between those two big guys. TD: Absolutely, Steve Roberts. It was last summer that Annis and Deathbringer formed a kind of "Unholy Alliance", and ran roughshod over much of the IIWF... until Annis turned his back on the dark destroyer and joined the ranks of Genesis. Here we are several months on, and Deathbringer is back in contention for the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship he first held way back in 1996, and I must say that 'Bringer is more dominant than ever before right now. SR: Damned straight, Dross. The big guy is almost scaring _me_ right now. But only almost. TD: Certainly Deathbringer presents as tough a challenge as any that Steve Kowalski has faced during his tenure as the fightingest World Champion in IIWF history... and one is yet again left questioning Kowalski's wisdom in continuing to defend that title week in, week out, well in excess of his statutory 30-day defence schedule. SR: You can't keep the Fury down, Dross: he's got heart! [At that moment, Steve Kowalski finally finishes his showboating in the ring, and rolls out under the ropes. He moves over to the broadcast table and shakes Steve Roberts' hand, motioning that he'll be back later to wrestle Deathbbringer, and then heading up the aisle, the chants of "SKULL-PUMP! SKULL-PUMP!" continuing unabated. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside once more.] TD: In addition to that big match between Kowalski and Deathbringer, the IIWF Cruiserweight Championship will be on the line as young Icehawk defends against Harlequin Tragedy. These two men have been in the ring together more times than I can count, either as opponents or even as co-holders of the IIWF World Tag Team Championships... and tonight, Tragedy will attempt to take the strap away from Icehawk. SR: Bring back Potato Famine, Dross. Whatever happened to that old goof Fitzgerald, anyway? TD: Let's not go there, Steve Roberts. Tonight's third championship match sees Team Sychosys do battle with the other Harlequins, Chaos and Terror -- what an opportunity tonight for the Harlequins to dominate the championships in the IIWF, just two weeks before Birthday Bash! On top of that, we have semi-final action in both of our ongoing tournaments: in Intercontinental Championship Tournament action, Marty Warnett does battle with "Savage" Shadoe Rage, and in King of the Cruisers action, "Iconoclast" Sean Watts goes up against "Armitage" Steven Spector. Those should both be unforgettable encounters, Steve Roberts. SR: My man the Black Jesus is going to make short work of that out-of-shape eighties reject, Dross. Shadoe Rage is going to take home the gold, make no mistake about it. As for the runt-weights, I have to go with Watts. Anybody who can beat Tiger Claw has to be okay in my book. TD: And speaking of Tiger Claw, we will see him in action tonight, partnering the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi, as they go up against the "Wrestle Clean" duo of Serge Annis and Charles Scheffield. Somehow I doubt that Musashi and Claw will be wrestling clean later on. SR: No kidding, Dross. And there was I thinking that Musashi and Claw would come out here and trade arm bars and abdominal stretches with Anus and Chuckie No-Friends all night. TD: On top of all that, we have a rematch between the teams of the Benjamins and Robert d'Artois and Reiner Ver Magnusson to kick things off here tonight, plus "Vagabond" Chris Staley, the man who has the questionable honour of facing Deathbringer inside a fifteen foot steel cage at Birthday Bash, will go up against Valtharius the Mad. All that, and comments from Steve Sampson, the man who has been courted by the IIWF for many weeks, and who last week fell victim to a brutal assault by the reformed Coalition of Derek Mota and "To Excess" Rick Williams. Rumour has it that Sampson has some kind of surprise in store for the Coalition here tonight, Steve Roberts. SR: Sampson is a panty-waist, Dross. Let's see him get it on with Rick Williams before we go hailing him as the next messiah. TD: You may well get your wish, Steve Roberts -- perhaps right here tonight! Folks, it's sure to be an incredible two-hour broadcast. There's no action like IIWF action, and we have plenty coming your way! Let's get up to the ring for tonight's opening contest. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| Robert d'Artois & Reiner Ver Magnusson vs. |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| The Benjamins ....................................................................... WRITER: Chris O'Brien [Sparkplug Lee gives a nod to a fan holding up a sign reading, "E-M-WHO?" before raising the mic to his lips.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to IIWF SATURDAY NIGHT! [BIG POP! The crowd cheers loudly as Sparky smiles] SL: The following contest is set for one fall, and is a tag team contest! SR: Hand me my pillow, Dross. TD: Steve Roberts, this is a budding feud, between two tag teams that may be the future of tag team wrestling! SR: I say again, where the hell is my pillow? SL: Introducing first, from Grand Rapids, Minnesota! Weighing in at a combined 515 pounds, here are Joe and Bobby... THE BENJAMINS! [The rock remix of Puff Daddy's "It's all about the Benjamins" plays over the PA as the fans cheer the young duo. Bobby and Joe Benjamin step out from behind the curtain to a positive response. Both young men wear long orange tights with the word BENJAMINS written down each leg, along with Minnesota Vikings football jerseys. Also, each carries a flag over their shoulders; Bobby holding an American flag, while Joe has the IIWF logo on his white flag] SR: Great, we've got a white-bread and a kiss-up. Spreadbury's gotta be love-hating these guys right now. [The Benjamins slap hands with the fans as they make their way down the ring, although they stop occasionally to let female fans hug them. Bobby has a hard time removing himself from one red-haired fan] TD: Quite a response for this duo, Steve Roberts. SR: Yeah, but they're shying away from a hug? Gay guys, I tell you, gay guys, baby dolls! [They get in the ring together, and run to opposite turnbuckles, climbing up and waving their flags vigorously. The fans continue to cheer, but the cheers turn to boos as the strains of "Canon in D Major" by Pachelbel drift out over the PA system.] SL: And their opponents! Hailing from Orleans, France, and Bonn, Germany! Weighing a combined 542 pounds, here is the tag team of Robert D'Artois and Reiner Ver Magnusson! [The massive frame of Reiner ver Magnusson steps out from behind the curtain, the German going without his T-shirt. He takes a moment to flex before starting down the aisle. Behind him, clad in a blue robe, comes Robert D'Artois. A few female fans scream in adoration as the Frenchman makes his way to the ring behind his massive partner] SR: Okay, who's the gay guy here? TD: I don't think either are gay, Steve Roberts. SR: Sure, Dross, sure. Just keep living in your fantasy world, Dross. TD: Lately, my fantasy world's included you dying at the hands of a grenade launcher. SR: Flame, Acid, or Explosive Round? TD: Acid. SR: You have _got_ to stop playing that damn "Resident Evil" game. [The music fades as Joe Benjamin, standing on the ring apron, whispers a few words to his brother, who rests in the corner. Meanwhile, D'Artois has disrobed, while Magnusson crack his knuckles] TD: And it will be Magnusson starting for his side, while Bobby Benjamin starts for his team. SR: Anyone have any tranquilisers? [Bobby looks Magnusson in the eye as the referee calls for the bell. Magnusson raises his hands, acting as if he's going for a test of strength, a big smile on his face...a smile that gets bigger as Bobby raises his hands too!] SR: He's going for a test of strength? I'd say the sun's fried his brain, but he's from Minnesota! There ain't no sun up there! [Bobby steps forward... one hand locking up... and both hands locked up! Before Reiner ver Magnusson can bring his strength to bear, he finds himself on his back! HUGE crowd pop!] TD: What a move! Bobby Benjamin backed up and slid between Magnusson's legs, causing the German to flip over! [Magnusson slaps the mat in frustration as he gets to his feet, while Bobby gives a hearty "YEAH!" to the crowd before turning back to the task at hand, locking up with the big German.] SR: Okay, now the Verhoeven-wannabe pushes the kid into the ropes... [Magnusson has Bobby Benjamin against the ropes, pushing against the young man's neck as the ref calls for a break. Magnusson gives it to him, backing off with arms raised. Bobby looks up in surprise as Magnusson waits for him. Bobby steps forward... only to be grabbed and whipped to the ropes!] TD: And Bobby Benjamin is _levelled_ with a monster clothesline! SR: Yeah, yeah, the mat moved and all that. It wasn't THAT good... [Magnusson picks up Bobby Benjamin, and he puts him back down with a bodyslam, with such force Bobby bounces a little. Magnusson takes some time to insult Bobby in rapid-fire German, before picking him back up/] SR: You know German, right, Dross? TD: A little. SR: What did Magnusson say? TD: Um... something about Bobby Benjamin's mom and an anatomically impossible act. SR: Ah... reminds me of my Senior Prom... [Magnusson Irish whips Bobby Benjamin, but the young man reverses it, and Magnusson goes across the ring...] TD: And a great spinning heel kick! Bobby had GREAT elevation on that one, and he staggered the big man! [Bobby comes off the ropes, and he tries a spinning heel kick again, which succeeds in staggering the German even more. Once more... and Magnusson ducks, Bobby Benjamin flying over Reiner ver Magnusson and crashing into the mat!] SR: Magnusson tagging in Robert D'Artois now, and D'Artois stomps away on Bobby Benjamin's pencil-thin legs. TD: D'Artois dropping and attempting to lock in a ankle lock, but Bobby scampers out! And a tag to his brother! [D'Artois turns around... only to see Joe Benjamin being sling-shotted in by Bobby! Joe goes for a flying forearm...] TD: Robert D'Artois grabs Joe out of mid-air... CRADLE DDT! Cover! One... two... and Joe Benjamin kicks out! SR: He just plucked the kid out of mid-air, when he was flying like Superman! TD: D'Artois now taunting Joe Benjamin... and a kick right to the stomach of Joe! [D'Artois picks Joe Benjamin up, and hits a snap suplex...but the crowd cheers anyway. D'Artois looks a little taken off guard at this, and he drops to the mat, locking Joe Benjamin in a cross-face chickenwing. The reason the crowd cheers is that Bob Ivey is walking down the aisle] TD: One half of the American Dragons making his way to ringside. SR: Damn, I was hoping after getting their butts beat by the Prophets of Rage last week, they left the fed. TD: How could you count out the hardest working tag team in the IIWF? SR: Easy. I'd only give them a five count. [Bob gives a brief look at the action in the ring before making his way over to the announcers' table] SR: Now hold on here... this wasn't in my contract! [Joe reaches for the ropes, but D'Artois rears back, wrenching Joe's shoulders back and causing him to grimace. Ivey grabs a spare pair of headphones before sitting down next to Tim Dross. As always, he wears the white leather jacket with red dragon on the back] TD: Um, welcome to Saturday Night, Bob. BI: Thanks, Mr. Dross. SR: What the hell are you doing down here? [Joe has reached the ropes, and D'Artois holds onto the chickenwing for a full five count before letting go] BI: I'm just doing a little scouting, Steve. SR: Why don't you just go backstage and do it from there? BI: Hey, if I give you a lollipop, will you shut up? [Robert D'Artois pulls Joe Benjamin up...and Joe surprises the Frenchman with a flurry of punches to the stomach! D'Artois is driven back to the ropes, and Joe responds by sending D'Artois for the ride...and driving him down to the mat with a spinebuster!] TD: Scouting who? BI: Didn't you watch Countdown, Dross? TD: Um... I was busy... finding the damn club key... BI: You're hooked on Resident Evil 2? Damn, you and my mom both... [Joe tags back in Bobby. Bobby comes in... and Joe steps out. Bobby looks slightly surprised, asking his brother about a double team move. Joe gets a 'DOH!' look on his face.] BI: Classic youthful mistake, but it passes with time. TD: To answer my question... BI: Well, we did lay down a contract for a match next week with the Benjamins... SR: WHAT? I'm going to have to see the Minnesota Fags and the American Drag-Queens in the same match-up? What did I do to deserve this? BI: I think the question is "WHO?" Steve. SR: How did you know? BI: Well, when Spreadbury's secretary says 'That closet the Night Patrol pushed you into? I've seen it with the "Soundbite"... and that was a certain official's daughter. SR: Oh...damn. I'm sure you know a lot about closets...coming out of one on War Room was sure big for you and Scalercio, huh? [Bobby turns around, and he and D'Artois lock up. D'Artois with an armbar, snapping the arm of Bobby Benjamin around. D'Artois whips the arm around four times, each time bringing a look of pain to the face of Bobby. D'Artois drags Bobby to his corner and tags back in Reiner ver Magnusson, who comes in and immediately drives an elbow into the shoulder of Bobby Benjamin.] TD: Magnusson now forcing Bobby Benjamin to the mat, and now he's driving that knee into the shoulder of the young wrestler. BI: Bobby needs to tag in Joe Benjamin. But he just can't get his butt away from the big varmint. SR: Oh, please. You ain't no J.W. Hardin, and you ain't from Texas. BI: You're sure as hell no Bruce Campbell either. TD & SR: Who? [Magnusson soon stands up, and crushes Bobby in a bearhug! Bobby manages to get one arm in, and tries to leverage his way out of the crushing grip of Reiner Magnusson. Magnusson tries to add more pressure, but Bobby drives a fist into the German's mouth, breaking the hold!] TD: And a dive... and a tag! BI: Here comes Joe... let's see what he can do. [Joe hits the ring... and Magnusson rolls out of the ring!] SR: He's running? BI: Actually, that's a smart move. Joe's the hot tag, and Magnusson's cooling him down. SR: You would advocate running away, wouldn't you? BI: This coming from a guy who supported the Prophets of Rage running from us last week. SR: They _are_ on strike, Ivey. TD: You know what I noticed? BI: You've been carrying Steve Roberts for the past two years? [Magnusson confers briefly with his partner before rolling back in the ring. Joe Benjamin wastes no time in charging in... and Magnusson ducks a short-arm clothesline attempt! He comes up... SMACK!] TD: Reiner ver Magnusson just slapped Joe Benjamin...and Joe attacks him! [Indeed, there is now a full scale brawl going on in the ring. Magnusson and Joe Benjamin go at it, throwing a flurry of punches. Magnusson gets the upper hand, and rears back to throw a haymaker...but Joe rears back just in time, and he comes back with a forearm smash so powerful it staggers Magnusson...and a flying forearm sends the German to the floor!] TD: We've got Magnusson on the floor in front of us...and Joe Benjamin's out after him! BI: Okay, let's see how they handle this. [The ref begins a count as Joe and Reiner go at it hardcore. Reiner gets the upper hand, and begins slamming Joe's head into the ring apron. Joe slumps to the mat as Reiner turns...and is caught by a running superkick by Bobby Benjamin!] BI: That looked good... SR: I looked good once. Best weekend of my life. BI: Was it? SR: Ask your mom, Army brat. [Bobby begins laying into Magnusson, but that's short-lived as Robert D'Artios comes to the aid of his tag team partner, going to war with Bobby Benjamin with a double axehandle as the declaration!] TD: The referee still counting as Joe is to his feet, and he grabs D'Artois from behind, and whips him into the steel guardrail! SR: And here, we've got Magnusson choking the hell of Joey Benjamin! [The four men continue to go at it... until the bell rings. All four stop and turn to the ref, who is talking to Sparkplug.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has counted out both teams, therefore, this match is ruled a DRAW! [Boos from the crowd... and the Benjamins roll in the ring. They walk up to the ref and calmly begin to argue with the ref, making their points without yelling.] TD: Well, it's nice to see a change. The Benjamins' not yelling in the face of our official. SR: Yeah, but school's not out yet! [D'Artois and Magnusson have steel chairs, and they sneak in the ring behind the young tag team..and land a solid strike to the backs' of both Benjamins] SR: All rookies make that mistake... so do the good guys. BI: What mistake? SR: Never be a good guy. BI: I thought it was "never turn your back on your foe"? SR: Yeah, that too. [The Benjamins lie on the mat, holding their backs, while D'Artois sets a steel chair in the middle of the ring. He tell Magnusson to pick up Bobby, and the German does so, slinging him over his shoulder before powerslamming him onto the chair!] TD: The Europeans just destroying the Benjamins post match! BI: Well, D'Artois is asking for a mic now... [Robert D'Artois gets the house mic as Magnusson lays a few kick to Joe Benjamin. The Frenchman looks over the crowd before speaking] RdA: Well, well, well... It just seems that the Benjamins now know what it's like to get soundly beaten by Europeans... Call that a moral victory... But in no way it is a real win, since these idiots actually managed to bring us up to some pathetic no decision result... They are really trying to get on my nerve. They pretend that they have actually beaten us and now... Frustrating... IN FACT, THEY ARE TRYING TO BREAK OUR SPOTLESS REPUTATION!!! They are trying to destroy the excellence we are bringing to the IIWF... And that got to stop. [He pauses as Magnusson has stopped beating Joe Benjamin, and that the EMT's have made their way to check on the duo. RdA: WAIT!!! WAIT!!! Don't look at them... Don't take them backstage yet... I didn't finish my business today... I don't want to only beat them or break them... I WANT TO HUMILIATE BOTH OF THIS IDIOTIC YOUNGSTERS RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING!!! And not right in the middle of _any_ ring... Not in the middle of a _Saturday Night_ ring... In the middle of a grand event ring... Benjamins, myself and Magnusson, we are _CHALLENGING_ you... Challenging you two a match at the IIWF's Birthday Bash... At the IIWF's birthday, we will give this federation a great gift... TRUE WRESTLING EXELLENCE -- Magnusson and myself -- will beat up two little untalented American wrestlers... WE WILL BEAT BOTH OF YOU! [He looks at the fallen Benjamins, Bobby bleeding from a nasty cut on his forehead] RdA: I know that you still got ears behind all that blood... So, the challenge is on, will you take your American version of real honor into actions and accept our challenge? Will you accept to get beaten up at Birthday Bash by the greatest tag team to ever enter the IIWF... WILL YOU ACCEPT TO GET BEAT BY TWO IIWF LEGENDS? I'll eagerly wait to see your answer. [D'Artois starts leaving the ring.] RdA: We won't accept ANYTHING but a YES... And at Birthday Bash, we won't accept ANYTHING, but a VICTORY!!! [D'Artois tries to step out of the ring after throwing down the house mic...but he's grabbed around the leg by Joe Benjamin, who pulls the Frenchman down and starts beating on him!] TD: There's still life in the Benjamins! [Bobby gets to his feet, and he tackles Magnusson, who was trying to help his partner, from behind.] TD: Wait... I'm told there's something backstage we need to see... [The scene suddenly cuts to backstage, where the Baddest Thangs Running, Caleb Temple and Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines are standing. Once again, Gunnar is flashing his trademark Grizzly Grin, and even Temple looks unusually happy. They move apart, and we understand why. Behind them, that hooded, kilted man stands, and at his side, once again, is the multi-coloured "stipulation" wheel.] GGG: Welcome to another episode of "Wheel of Misfortune", you twerps. [Grizzly Grin from Gunnar and a chuckle from Temple.] CT: You guys know the rules by now. Vanna here spins the wheel and when it stops... you lose. GGG: That's right. And that includes _you_, Andy Panda and Duncan the Bumpkin. For you see, when you get into a Spin the Wheel match with the Baddest Thangs Running, Lady Fortune certainly will _not_ shine on you. Oh, not at all. Not even a teeny little bit. HM: [faint brogue] "Teeny lit'l bit." Aye, tha' reminds me o' when I saw Duncan's kilt fly up in th' breeze. That's how I ken yiz is not related to th' MacDonald clan! No bleedin' Big Mac or Quarter Pounder to be seen! No' even a pair of wee lit'l McNuggets! [They all laugh.] GGG: Anyway... it's time for Butt Watch to see what is going to happen to them at Birthday Bash. As they say, this shouldn't happen to a dog... but then, the Scots say that before making haggis and it doesn't stop _them_. [Gunnar snickers, while Caleb cracks a smile.] GGG: So let's do it. Let's spin the wheel... make the deal... CT: ...and say your prayers. [The hooded man spins the wheel, and the colours blur into one before slowing, separating, and stopping... at...] GGG: Singapore Cane! [Temple grins fiendishly.] GGG: That's your favourite, isn't it, Brother Temple? [Temple nods.] GGG: I hope it lands on this one when we meet, Bum Watch... because you'll be _needing_ canes after we get done with you. Since you're so fond of the "Universal Arse-Probe," we're going to take these and _shish-kebab_ your breakfast, and show you what _real_ pain is supposed to feel like. CT: Allow us to demonstrate... [Each man reaches off camera and produces a Singapore Cane... a long cane with shards of broken glass glued on. They run off camera and down to the ring.] SR: YES! HERE COME THE BASTARDS! [Gaines and Temple slide in the ring behind the four men, none who notice the Baddest Thangs Running...until the two men begin laying the Benjamins, D'Artois, and Magnusson upside the heads with the Singapore Canes! The Europeans dive out of the ring, while the Benjamins try to hang in there, but they're driven out too. All four men stand around the ring as the Thangs slam the Canes against the ropes] BI: Figures they'd have to stick their noses in... TD: You don't like them? BI: Nope. SR: GUNNAR! GUNNAR! IVEY'S GOT A PROBLEM WITH YOU! [Gaines turns to look as the Benjamins and Europeans go up the aisle. Ivey stands up and takes off his headset, while Gaines and Temple come over.] TD: Steve! You incited this! SR: Yep. Got to love it. [Temple sits on the ropes, mockingly inviting Ivey into the ring. Bob Ivey says something about two-on-one being real fair before making his way around the ring and back up the aisle, slapping hands with a few fans as the Baddest Thangs Running remain in the ring, showboating to the crowd with their Singapore canes held high.] TD: The self-proclaimed Baddest Thangs Running sending a message to the Black Watch here, Steve Roberts -- and those two huge teams will lock up in just two weeks at Birthday Bash. What a match that's going to be... "Spin the Wheel, Make the Deal". [Gaines and Temple finally leave the ring and head back up the aisle to a big heel pop. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: We may also now see the Benjamins and the Europeans go at it at Birthday Bash, Steve Roberts. The IIWF's tag team division is on fire right now. SR: Whoo. TD: Moving on, we have quite a match coming up next, folks. Newcomer Chris Staley, who has valiantly -- some might say, stupidly -- challenged Deathbringer in the past few weeks, tonight goes up against the "Meatman" Jimmy Steele in his solo Saturday Night debut, just two weeks before he faces the Deathbringer himself inside a fifteen foot steel cage. The Meatman is always a tough customer, Steve Roberts... and this will be a real test for Staley. SR: You can't beat the meat, Dross. Steele's gonna make mince-meat out of the kid. TD: Well, let's go up to the ring to find out. Over to you, Sparky. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| "Vagabond" Chris Staley vs. |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Jimmy "the Meatman" Steele ....................................................................... WRITER: Mike Beeby [The crowd give a big pop as Sparkplug Lee steps into the ring once more.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Wildwood, New Jersey, weighing in at 260 pounds, here is "VAGABOND" CHRIIIIIIIIS STAAAAAAAALEEEEEEEEEEY! [As "Jesus Christ Pose" by Soundgarden comes over the PA system, Chris Staley makes his way down the aisle to the ring while the crowd releases a mixed pop for the relative newcomer to the Double Eye. Staley wears a black leather outfit with a jacket that bears the message "My Body Lie But Still I Roam". He enters the ring with ease as Sparkplug continues.] SL: And his opponent... From Emeryville, California, weighing in at 274 meaty pounds [slight laughter], here is "THE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEATMAN" JIMMY STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELE! [The fans begin to chant "Meat! Meat! Meat! Meat!" as Jimmy Steele comes out of the locker room, pushing a huge cart. Staley watches as the Meatman wheels a cart full of frozen Turkey parts down the aisle to the ring. Jimmy Steele grabs what appear to be legs of the Turkey carcasses and pitches them into the crowd, giving his fans a little treat. The Vagabond watches with little interest, calling for his would-be opponent to climb into the ring and start the match.] TD: Jimmy Steele knows how to make an entrance, doesn't he Steve? SR: Poppa Soundbite no like frozen meat. Poppa Soundbite prefers a nice roasted side of beef, or steak even. Screw the frozen stuff, it's a slave's job to prepare it. [Jimmy Steele enters the ring, and looks at the rotting Moose carcass quickly, shooting Staley a look of anger. They lock up as the bell sounds, and Staley pitches Jimmy Steele and throws him into the ropes with an Irish whip, then connects on a clothesline that staggers the Meatman. He grabs Steele in a headlock and runs towards the corner, but Steele shoves him off and sends him in sternum first. The crowd gasps as Staley takes a huge hit in the corner, then staggers out right into a bearhug. Jimmy Steele works on Staley's back by ramming him into the corner with the bearhug, and then he allows Staley to run across the ring via an Irish whip to the other corner. Staley raises a leg and catches Jimmy Steele with a boot to the face, then comes out of the corner and starts hitting rapid fire kicks to Steele's shins and stomach.] TD: We have a flurry of offensive momentum going Chris Staley's way, but those kicks don't seem to be having much effect on the Meatman. SR: What do you expect Dross? Staley's weak, and the Meatman has a paunch on him the size of New Mexico. That equals one boring match. [Steele falls back against the ropes, and Staley throws him into the ropes to start the Meatman criss-crossing over the ring one way, and Staley begins to run across the ring in the other way until he manages to land a kneelift and then delivers a huge axe kick to the back of Steele's head. The Meatman's fans begin to boo as Staley goes for a pinfall, but it's short-lived as Steele kicks out. Staley grabs Steele and pulls him back up to his feet for a sleeperhold. Steele buries an elbow into his midsection and gets released from the hold long enough to kick Staley in the groin and double him over. Steele drops a series of elbows into the back of Staley's head, and drags him to the corner for a set of mounted punches that the crowd counts along with.] TD: This match has been overtaken by Jimmy Steele fans, and the Meatman is working Staley over like a side of beef. SR: Yeah, from what I hear that Meatman likes to beat the meat quite regularly. TD: Say, have you ever... SR: Only _I_ start those, Dross. [Staley stumbles out of the corner, right into a bodyslam from Jimmy Steele. The Meatman tries for a pinfall but Staley kicks out and rolls to the corner, then hops to midbuckle and nails an oncoming Steele with a flying tomahawk chop that stuns him momentarily. Staley climbs up even higher this time and takes the Meat off his feet with a spinning leg lariat off the top. The crowd releases a mixed pop, some unhappy that Steele took the brunt of the move, and some amazed at Staley's versatility.] TD: That was an amazing move from the Vagabond, especially considering he isn't really known for aerial ability. SR: Until he can show me that he does an Asai moonsault, he's snake spit. [Steele finds himself flat on his back in the middle of the ring, and Staley rolls on top for the cover. The Meatman kicks out at two, and not even a hook of the leg can keep him down. Staley gets up and pulls Steele to his feet, then tries to deliver a piledriver on the slack-jawed Emeryville native. Steele backdrops Staley out of it and over the ropes to the floor, which causes Staley to become enraged. The Vagabond stalks around the ring as Steele is caught unaware, and grabs part of the rotting moose carcass as he rolls into the ring. Staley comes up behind Steele and attempts to shove the rotted beef down Steele's throat, which forces the Meatman to gag.] SR: Damn Dross, that's just sickening! Haven't we learned anything from poor Justin Gaines? The kid had to give his life to make a point about rotten meat and then Vagina-Bound tries that? TD: Steve Roberts, watch your language. And not to mention the fact that Justin Gaines is alive and well. SR: No thanks to Steele. [Steele is off his game now, and Staley drops the moose meat for a claw type of hold to the forehead of Steele. He hooks in a suplex and corkscrews Steele to the mat with a brainbuster suplex, knocking Steele even sillier than before. Staley again goes for a pinfall, but Steele kicks out once more and grabs the ropes to get into the corner. He runs and ploughs the Vagabond with a Thesz press, grabbing Staley by the hair and smashing the back of his head into the mat several times. The Meatman rises with Staley in a side headlock, and delivers a few closed fisted jabs to the side of his head before putting him in the corner and knocking him down with a running forearm.] TD: Jimmy Steele's power appears to be wearing down the Vagabond, but Chris Staley could very well come back. What he's shown in this match says a lot about his resiliency. SR: How I miss the days of Brad Kinder. [The Meatman locks in a wear-down sleeperhold, but no sooner do they manoeuvre out of the corner than Staley delivers a jawbreaker to escape it. Staley picks the Meatman up in a powerslam and drives him to the mat, then takes a few seconds to recover before continuing. Staley times a lariat on Steele just right, and he sends Steele crashing out to the floor of the IIWF Coliseum. Staley bounces over the top rope with a devastating suicide dive, but again his lack of fear results in pain for Staley as well as Steele. Both wrestlers are nearly counted out, but Staley manages to prolong the count by rolling in and out of the ring. As he rolls back out, Steele is waiting, and he grabs the front of Staley's tights and sends him hurtling over the guardrail and into the crowd. In their own way, the Meatman fans help their hero go ahead in the match.] TD: The fans are beating on Staley! They've got those frozen turkey legs that Jimmy Steele was handing out earlier, and they're letting poor Chris Staley have it! SR: I'll bet this is a fantasy of Staleys. Look at it: he's surrounded by a whole group of people, and he's the centre of their attention. I'll bet he's never felt so loved. Poppa Soundbite is happy to deliver. TD: What did _you_ do? SR: My idea. TD: Hang on folks, look who's on his way out! That's Valtharius the Mad! SR: And his manager, Caramel. TD: Karachel, Steve. [Valtharius the Mad lumbers down the aisle towards the ringside area, as Jimmy Steele takes a breather and his opponent continues to be assaulted by the frozen turkey appendages. As Karachel leads him down, Valtharius walks to Staley's corner and sniffs the rotting moose carcass. Turning his nose up at it and giving a gag-like expression, Valtharius spots the frozen turkey of Steele's with glee. He breaks into a run (or as close as he can get) for the turkey, and grabs it with both hamhocks. The crowd winces as Val tries to take a giant bite out of it, and in the process hurts his teeth. His eyes roll back in his head as he drops the turkey and he lets loose an eardrum ripping scream, grabbing a piece of the retaining barrier and flailing wildly as the fans try to duck.] TD: Valtharius the Mad has gone crazy in a fit of pain and anger! SR: And this is news to you, Dross? He's a step above a vegetable, and two above Becky LaRue fan club members. [Chris Staley finally manages to pull himself out of the crowd after the beating with the frozen poultry products, but now he's in the way of Valtharius who smashes him in the back of the head and neck with the guardrail. Staley hits the ground with a thud as Val drops the guardrail and now spots the Meatman, leaning up against the ring. He lumbers at Steele, shouting "ME VALTHARIUS SAY MEATMAN LITTLE BUDDY! MEATMAN FEED VALTHARIUS!".] SR: Ain't it sweet, they're bonding. [Valtharius grabs Steele in a bearhug, smothering him and shaking him from side to side as Karachel looks on in disgust, shaking his head as if wondering why Valtharius' small brain like Jimmy Steele. Steele manages to free himself after a minute or so of Valtharius' love-fest, and smacks the giant manchild across the face. The look of shock lasts momentarily on Val's face, and he yells out again with "WHY YOU HIT VALTHARIUS??? MEAT MAN LITTLE BUDDY!!!". Again he grabs for Steele and smothers him with a grappling bearhug, but by this time Chris Staley has made it back to his feet. With a chair in hand, Staley frees Steele from Valtharius with a wicked shot to the Meatman's back. As Karachel leads Valtharius away by the hand, Staley rolls the Meatman back into the ring and picks him up in an inverted crucifix slam, dropping him to the mat hard.] TD: The JCP Edge! That's it, Staley covers! One! Two! Three! SR: He pinned Steele! He pinned Jimmy Steele! How the hell did that happen? SL: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner... "VAGABOND" CHRIS STAAALEEEEY! [The Meatman, clutching the back of his head, heads out of the ring after Valtharius as the fans give a mixed pop. Staley sits up in the ring and seems shocked for just a moment, but then a confident smirk spreads across his face, and he stands up, celebrating his victory.] TD: What a victory for Chris Staley here tonight -- give the assist to Valtharius the Mad, but a good win for the newcomer. He'll need all the confidence he can get going into that steel cage with Deathbringer in two weeks at Birthday Bash. SR: I like this kid, Dross, but nothing's going to help him when he gets in there against Deathbringer. [Staley finally heads out of the ring and up the aisle, nodding to the fans as he goes. Suddenly, the lights in the arena drop to toal darkness. Huge pop!] TD: Oh my! Is Deathbringer here? SR: Get your goddamned hand off my leg, Dross! TD: I'm not touching you, Steve Roberts. [As the lights come back on, Deathbringer is standing in the middle of the ring. He's wearing his usual attire and even holds the scythe in his right hand. In his left hand he holds a microphone and the Dark Destroyer wastes no time before beginning to speak in his low growling voice, while Chris Staley is held back by security officials, who are quickly on the scene:] DB: As promised, I am back, mortals... [heel pop] And I guess you will remember quite well what I came for... So, wrestlers of the IIWF, is there anyone who has the guts to walk at my side, is there anyone valiant enough to join me on the Dark Side, is there anyone willing to give up his soul in order to become the mighties warrior this earth has ever seen? If so, courageous one, come out to me, right here, right now! [All eyes turn to the head of the aisle, where the entrance curtains remain unmoving.] TD: [over headset] Has anybody accepted Deathbringer's invitation to join him? Will anybody come out here tonight and stand next to the dark destroyer of the IIWF? SR: [over headset] No way, Dross. Nobody wants any part of the big guy. [The entranceway remains empty. Deathbringer waits a few more moments, the fans impatiently waiting the emergence of an IIWF superstar. Finally, the dark destroyer speaks once more:] DB: Well, I almost thought so... Just why are you mortals so afraid of the man dressed in black, of the man with his bony hands who is pointing at you for your entire life? But as I said, this does not surprise me, and now I am sure it was a wise decision to accept the Blind Guardian's advice and look for some allies in other places... [The lights drop for a few seconds, and as they come back, Deathbringer is still standing in the middle of the ring, but he has been joined by two other men, dressed like Deathbringer himself, but being a few inches smaller. The Dark Destroyer looks at them and begins to laugh in his evil way.] DB: So here they are, mortals. Here are the men whom I will call my allies from now on. Do they not look awesome? [heel pop] Yes, you are afraid, mortals... And if I were in your position, I would be afraid, too... I will leave now, but I want to give you this final advice... If anyone of you feel like being a Chris Staley, coming out and jumping me from behind... mind these two men... or you could find yourself jumping from the top of the IIWF Towers... [laughs again] [The lights drop again and as they come back, the three men have vanished. In the aisle, Staley is spitting nails at the security officials who restrained him, and then storms back to the locker rooms. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside as the fans give a big heel pop.] TD: Well, folks, nobody accepted Deathbringer's invitation -- but the big man has got himself a couple of bodyguards. This could be bad news for Chris Staley... and very bad news indeed for Steve Kowalski, who faces Deathbringer in our main event later on tonight. Right now, folks, it's time for tonight's first championship match, as Team Sychosys defend the World Tag Team titles against the Harlequins. Let's get up to the ring for this match. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| IIWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Team Sychosys [c] vs. The Harlequins ....................................................................... WRITER: Jason Lake [Sparkplug Lee enters the ring. He sees a fan near ringside holding up a sign that says "I Mark For The Spark." Lee gives him the thumbs up.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen... the following bout is scheduled for ONE fall... and it is for the IIWF _WORLD_ Tag Team Championship! [Big pop!] SL: Coming down the aisle, led to the ring by Melody...at a combined weight of 608 pounds... Harlequin Terror... Harlequin Chaos... The HARlequins!!! [A fairly negative crowd reaction greets the two Masters of Mirth as they make their appearance at the top of the ramp. "Mathematics of Chaos" by Killing Joke plays over the P.A. system while the two wrestlers walk that aisle. Terror is dressed in black leather with bandages around with hands and forearms. He wears the standard Harlequin black diamonds over his eyes, though they appear smudged, and has some red substance around his mouth. He has brown hair and blue eyes. Chaos wears pants made of braided black leather along with black boots and fingerless gloves. He is also wearing a leather jacket with the words "I RUN WITH SCISSORS" airbrushed on the back and a chain mail coif with a metal muzzle on it. Upon removing the muzzle, he reveals his face painted similar to his brothers, only there are no claw marks and the colour scheme is different. He has a very well developed body and brown hair. His eye colour of choice this week is purple. Melody is wearing a slinky black number that barely extends past her hips.] SR: Oh, great. Thanks to Petrow deciding to waste his life in the tags, I gotta watch him fight two extras from the next Batman film. At least Melody is looking mighty fine. Biscuits! WHOO! TD: Soundbite, these are two highly skilled athletes! SR: Screw this, Dross-man. I'm watchin' the Sonics game. Payton's my main man! SL: And their opponents... at a combined weight of 457 pounds... the champions... "Sychosys" Joe Petrow... "Mister Majestyk" Maurice McArthur... Team SyCHOsys!!! ["Robbery, Assault and Battery" by Genesis comes over the loudspeakers as the crowd pops big time for the arrival of the tag champions, except for a vocal contingent from the Disciples of Rage, who are carrying picket sings reading "SCYCHOSYS SCHMYCHOSYS" and "THE RAGE IS ALL THAT -- AND A BAG OF CHIPS".] TD: This place is erupting for the champs! [Petrow is wearing white tights with a zebra-stripe motif, white chaps with a belt, a leather cap, earrings and rose-coloured glasses. McArthur follows, wearing black tights and a black T-shirt with a giant letter "M" in the middle and a small number "4" in the top right corner. As they hit the ring, Petrow begins to dance around and swing his hips, while McArthur delivers some crotch-chops to the camera. The champs then pose in the centre of the ring, Petrow flashing a double-bicep pose on one knee, while McArthur folds his arms and stands impassively behind. Fireworks shoot out from the ring apron behind them, and the crowd pops wildly.] TD: Well, you certainly can't accuse Joe Petrow of originality in his last few appearances. SR: Dammit, Dross, he was _this_ close to beating "the Fury" last week, and this week, he's carryin' his jabrone friend to another meaningless tag victory. What's the point? I'm more concerned about Vin Baker. He hasn't been feeling well lately. TD: As usual, Soundbite, you're selling the match short. We've seen a great surge in tag-team talent these last couple of months, and we've got two of the best right here. SR: I had two of the best right here once. TD: Oh? And how did that turn out? SR: Best weekend of my life, Dross. Now, leave me alone, I've got a game to watch. [Soundbite somehow manages to get his monitor to show the Seattle Supersonics/Minnesota Timberwolves game instead of the IIWF video feed. Dross rolls his eyes.] TD: Well, folks, the rest of us here are going to see some great action! [The bell rings, and immediately, the Disciples of Rage start to pelt the ring with little kippers.] SR: Jesus Christ! It's raining fish! Someone call Hard Copy! TD: The Disciple of Rage have come out in force! [Chaos tries to bounce off the ropes and charge at Joe Petrow, but he slips on a kipper and falls flat on his back. Immediately, Melody drags Chaos under the bottom rope and tries to regroup her charges.] SR: Man, the muffin lady isn't even going to being those sweet biscuits to her lovin' Poppa. Not only that, but the T-Wolves are already up by six. Damn that Anthony Peeler. He shoulda stayed in Vancouver. TD: Ahem. I thought you were a wrestling commentator, Steve. SR: Yeah, well, show me some wrestling, for crying out loud. [As if on cue, Chaos re-enters the ring, the kippers having been cleared out by referee Hugo Hugo. Chaos and Petrow lock-up. The larger Chaos simply shoves Petrow down to the mat. Again, they lock-up. Petrow with a thumb to the eye and an Irish whip attempt, but Chaos blocks it and responds with a short arm clothesline. Petrow quickly crawls over to McArthur and makes the tag.] TD: It looks like Petrow is already in trouble early in this match. SR: Big Smooth... for THREE! All right! [McArthur looks at his partner, confused as to why he's being tagged in so early. Nonetheless, he enters the ring, and looks up at the much larger Chaos, who laughs maniacally. The Disciples, in lieu of kippers, are now hurling insults at McArthur, and start up a deafening "JOBBER! JOBBER!" chant. McArthur, fueled by this, flies off the ropes and tries a cross body block... only to be caught in mid-air and driven hard to the mat with a slam reminiscent of a guy that used to scream "Huss! Huss!" The crowd boos, but the Disciples cheer and high-five each other.] TD: McArthur is clearly overmatched here! [Chaos makes the tag, picks up Terror as for an atomic drop, but slams him down onto the fallen McArthur instead. Terror quickly goes to work with a series of stomps, and elbowdrop, and a chokehold. McArthur's legs flail as he gasps for air, and the hold is broken only after Hugo Hugo has counted four.] TD: A patented chokehold by the malevolent Terror. SR: Grab the rebound! Dammit, Schrempf, get your goofy-lookin' ass in there! TD: We apologise for Steve Roberts's lack of focus, ladies and gentlemen. SR: Yeah? Well, who's gonna apologise for payin' McIllvaine five million a year? Hell, for five mil, I'd be doin' Asais all over Key Arena. [Terror goes to the top rope and hits a flying headbutt. The cover... and McArthur _barely_ kicks out before Hugo makes the three count. Petrow is on the outside, stomping on the mat and trying to get the crowd worked up. Chaos rubs his hand with glee and calls for the tag. Once in the ring, Terror drags McArthur to his feet, then, oddly enough, lies down. Chaos picks Terror up by the ankles and swings his partner viciously at the dazed McArthur. The move connects, and McArthur crumples to the mat in a heap.] TD: REALITY CHECK! The old Harlequin "baseball bat" move! One... Two... Petrow with the save! [Petrow makes the save, then heads back to his corner, obviously upset at how the match is going. The Harlequins go back on the offence, as Chaos hits a devastatingly fast and sharp powerbomb. Again, Petrow has to make the save, and by this time, McArthur looks like he's just about dead.] TD: Why isn't Petrow doing more to help his partner? This isn't like him. SR: Vin Baker! THUNDER jam! Get UP for the downstroke! [Suddenly, Steve Roberts's monitor is cut off.] SR: WHAT TH'?! Aw, Jeez... TD: I just got the word from the producer over the headphones to pull your plug. Sorry, Steve. SR: My lifeline to the outside world! Gone! I... I need air, Dross. [gasp] You bastards! [Back in the ring, McArthur has been deposited onto the top turnbuckle. Chaos climbs the top rope on the outside, stopping briefly at the second turnbuckle to heft McArthur onto his shoulders. Quickly, Terror mounts the top turnbuckle from the inside of the ring... and...] TD: HARLEQUIN HAVOC! A hurricanrana from WAY up high! SR: Sweet mother of God! It's over! [Referee Hugo Hugo counts the one, two, th... but Petrow again makes the save, now clearly disgusted with the tide of the match.] SR: That's right, Joe! He sucks! You shouldn't have tagged the loser in the first place! Hell, you shouldn't tag with anyone! TD: Steve! McArthur is a tag-team champion! SR: Yeah? So were Scorpio and Taurus. [McArthur, with what seems to be the last of whatever reserves he might have, stands up in the middle of the ring. Terror and Chaos take opposite sides of the ring, and charge!] SR: It's gonna be a joker sandwich! [However, McArthur collapses to the canvas, and the Harlequins crash head-on into one another.] TD: Nobody home! The Harlequins have collided, and the ring looks like a pile-up on the I-5! SR: Make the tag, you jabrone! Didn't they teach you that at Power Prep?! [The crowd goes nuts as Hugo Hugo starts to count all three wrestlers out. One... Two... Three... McArthur starts crawling _very_ slowly toward his corner... Four... Five... Six... Petrow is screaming lividly at his partner to make the tag... Seven... Eight... Nine...] TD: The tag is made! [The crowd bursts as the hot tag is made, and Petrow comes flying into the ring. He picks Terror up as if for an atomic drop, but drops him on his gluteal region instead. Then he does the same to Chaos.] SR: ASSPUMP! Double Asspumps! Yes! [Petrow clotheslines Chaos out of the ring, and Melody rushes to the side of her fallen comrade. Petrow points at Melody and begins to gyrate his hips in the manner of someone who regularly cannot decide whether or not to shave.] TD: Petrow is taunting Melody... and the Disciples are starting to get restless! [As the Disciples of Rage voice their displeasure at Petrow, he decides to pick Terror up and grab him by the forehead... which makes the Disciples boil over with anger! Petrow stares at his opponent for a moment, seemingly unsure about what to do. Then, Petrow takes Terror into the corner, climbs the second turnbuckle, and again places a clawhold on his opponent.] SR: He's goin' for the Hammer of God! [As Petrow sets up for the move, he's hit in the face by a fish. The fish bounces off Petrow and into the lap of Tim Dross.] TD: Ah! A red snapper! Very tasty... SR: You said that last week, Drossie. [Petrow turns to see that it was the Dirt Dog who threw the piscine product from the crowd. Petrow knocks Terror to the mat, turns to the crowd, and says "This one's for you, Dirt Dog!" Then, as Terror stumbles to his feet...] TD: Flying hurricanrana! One of Dirt Dog's trademarks! SR: It might be! TD: It could be! [As Hugo Hugo makes the count, a dazed Chaos tries to make the save, but McArthur again summons up a last burst of energy and comes flying into the ring... and lands at Chaos's feet. But Chaos trips over the prone McArthur, and Hugo's hand hits the mat for a third time before Chaos comes crashing down. The bell rings.] SR & TD: IT IS! SL: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner... and _STILL_ IIWF Tag Team Champions... Team SyCHOsys!!! [Tumultuous crowd pop as Petrow thrusts his arm into the air with the tag team gold. Melody throws a fit outside the ring while the Harlequins roll out under the bottom rope and try to regain themselves. Petrow stares at the limp body of his partner in contemplation. Then, suddenly, over the barrier come the Prophets of Rage, who start to put a serious beating on Petrow, stopping occasionally to kick the lifeless body of McArthur.] TD: Oh no! This is awful! Team Sychosys is being decimated! [Quickly, the Jobber Justice Squad is on the case. The Barnacle Brothers hit the ring, but are momentarily distracted by the assorted seafood items littering the ringside area. However, as the other JJS members hit the ring, they're back on the case, separating the Prophets of Rage from Petrow and attending to McArthur. The Prophets are escorted outside the ring, and they depart to the cheers of the Disciples and the jeers of everyone else. Meanwhile, The Smooth checks McArthur for a heartbeat, and attempts to administer mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. But Petrow pushes The Smooth aside, picks McArthur in a fireman's carry, and heads back to the dressing room. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: Team Sychosys with an impressive victory over the Harlequins -- but in just two weeks, they'll do battle with the Prophets of Rage at Birthday Bash... will they be ready? Right now, however, we must move on to our next match; the fans are in for a real treat as we see two of the most talented Cruiserweights in wrestling go at it! SR: Isn't that "King of the Cruisers" tournament supposed to show that? TD: Well, yes, but... SR: Are either of these guys still in the tournament? TD: Well, Tragedy never was... he was in the Intercontinental tournament... but they are both out... SR: Wake me when it's over. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| IIWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Icehawk [c] vs. Harlequin Tragedy ....................................................................... WRITER: Rusty Priske [Up in the ring, Sparkplug Lee stands in the centre, stifling a yawn. When he realises that the camera is on him he suddenly snaps to attention and reads off his cards.] SL: This next match is for the IIWF Cruiserweight Championship! Introducing first, the challenger, hailing from Sleepy Hollow, Illinois...and weighing in at 220 pounds...Harlequin...Tragedy! ["#1 Crush" by Garbage plays as Tragedy and Melody step through the curtains and stride down the aisle. Tragedy is still dressed in the manner he was last week but his Tragedy mask is white, rather than black. The crowd gives him a bit of a mixed reaction as they seem unsure how to handle the "clown".] TD: Tragedy seems really focused on this match. Could it be time for him to step up to the next level and win a major singles title? SR: Cruiserweight belt? Major singles title? Surely you jest. SL: And now... the IIWF Cruiserweight Champion... hailing from Oulu, Finland... and weighing in at 220 pounds... Icehawk! [The "Olympic Fanfare" starts and the fans start a good pop which quickly turns to surprise... and then a heel pop... as Derek Mota steps into sight instead of Icehawk.] TD: What is this? Derek Mota is carrying the Cruiserweight title belt but... where is Icehawk? SR: Oh... boy. Instead of a boring match aver a boring title we get a boring match with a fake boring title. [The crowd boos as Derek Mota walks out, the look on his face as cocky as ever. Mota is wearing his wrestling gear, black trunks and his black leather jacket which he removes upon entry to the ring. Mota takes a slow walk around the ring, grinning at Tragedy who looks more than a little annoyed. Finally, he grabs the microphone from Sparkplug and speaks.] DM: Well, hate ta say, but Icehawk just ain't here tonight. [Mota looks at the crowd for a long time, evoking an even louder reaction from them.] DM: But I "spoke" to him in the dressing room, and he asked me ta defend my IIWF Cruiserweight Title for him. So being a man of honour [a brief pause and another smile gets another heel pop from the fans], I'm gonna give these here wonderful fans of the Double Eye a real treat, and I'm gonna defend my title right here tonight against Tragedy! So Icehawk, sorry about the... accident, but things happen, right? But don't worry... I'll take good care of my belt for ya. And you're just seein' the first taste of what the Coalition is able ta do. Trust me on that one, kids. [Mota removes the IIWF Cruiserweight Title from around his waist and moves in to start the match with Tragedy, who is looking more than a little upset. The referee looks around in confusion for a few moments, realizes that Icehawk is nowhere to be found, and rings the bell to start the match!] TD: Derek Mota is coming to the ring and he seems to be saying he is here to defend the Cruiserweight championship! He claims he's the champ! SR: Maybe he beat Icehawk in a non-televised match. TD: You know that's not true! SR: Just trying to stir up the internet rumour mill. It will be reported as fact within fifteen minutes. TD: And what kind of accident is Mota talking about? It seems Dave D'Amato is allowing this match to continue! What a travesty! SR: Tragedy is fighting him anyway. Maybe he can't even tell the difference. TD: As Mota and Tragedy lock up, we've got Larry Morton in the back with a special report. [The shot changes to a split screen. On the left we see Mota turning Tragedy around with a wristlock while on the right we see Larry Morton in the back with a microphone.] LM: It seems that the members of 4-D, the Natural Predators and Marty Warnett, are tearing the place apart looking for Icehawk. He was spotted here earlier this evening but now, he seems to have vanished! Back to you at ringside, gentlemen. [The shot switches back to the ring.] TD: We will go back to Larry Morton the instant something happens... but in the meantime we've got Mota and Tragedy putting up one heck of a match! [Back in the ring we see Mota go down after a vicious dropkick to the knee by Tragedy. The Harlequin immediately starts kicking at Mota's now injured leg while Derek tries to pull himself away.] TD: Tragedy seems to be trying to soften Mota up for the Tragic Ending! SR: I can't think of any ending to this match being tragic. The sooner the better, that's what I say! [Tragedy grabs hold of Mota's leg and spins around, as if to lock on a figure four. Before he can get around he finds Mota's off-leg smack into his butt and send him flying into the corner turnbuckle. Mota jumps to his feet and performs a Turnbuckle Run, tossing Tragedy over with a headlock takedown off the buckles.] TD: There's fight left in Mota yet! SR: Don't you remember? He's the scrappy one. Tragedy is the pathetic one. D'Amato is the mindless one. TD: Tragedy would disagree with that statement... and his actions speak volumes as he just popped out of the headlock and grabbed ahold of Mota's leg again! Mota's locked into that step-over toe-hold and his face is twisting in agony! SR: You want a face twisted in agony? Watch footage of me during that old Warnett/Quigley match. TD: I've just been informed that Larry Morton has an update on the whereabouts of Icehawk! What do you have for us, Larry? [The split screen comes back as we see Larry in front of the three members of 4-D crowding around a maintenance closet.] LM: It seems that the Grey Phoenix has found Icehawk! Let's get the camera closer for a better shot. [The camera does just that until we see Icehawk, bound and gagged, within the closet. He has clearly been beaten quite severely and there is blood matting his hair to his forehead.] LM: I think we need a medical team back here right now! [The screen goes back to normal just as Mota manages to reach back and gouge deeply into Tragedy's eyes, forcing a break.] TD: Icehawk has been found -- but we are still unsure about what exactly happened to him. SR: Let me see... Icehawk in the closet -- and here was I thinking he came out ages ago -- Mota with the belt taking his place in the match... nope, I can't figure it out. [Mota puts Tragedy to the mat with a Japanese Armdrag and the hop s back to the ropes and hits him with a Ropeflip Legdrop, never letting up for a second.] SR: Can Tragedy fight back? Will Mota defend his "title"? Does anyone here care? TD: Neither of these two are giving an inch and... oh my god! [Mota, about to pop Tragedy over with a suplex stops as the huge crowd pop alerts him to the oncoming menace. Icehawk, still battered and bloody, is charging down the aisle and towards the ring.] TD: Icehawk looks like he's out for blood! Mota has jumped onto the top rope... it's the Main Attraction onto the floor! Icehawk has gone down under the weight of the Heatseeker! SR: Naw... too easy. [Tragedy just stands in the ring as Dave D'Amato lets loose a torrent of admonishments on the two grapplers on the floor. They are deaf to all pleas as they trade rights and lefts in a flurry of punches.] TD: Tragedy just laughs as D'Amato seems unsure of what to do next as... oh! Icehawk just powerbombed Mota on the concrete! SR: Finally we're getting somewhere! [As the camera gives a long shot showing all of the combatants, we see a large figure climbing into the ring behind Tragedy. He wears a large hooded sweatshirt and it is impossible to make out his features.] TD: Who's this? SR: With any luck, the harbinger of more carnage! [Tragedy is caught flatfooted by this large individual and...] TD: The Kodiak Driver! That's Bear's Kodiak Driver! Now he's high-tailing it out of the ring and just leaving Tragedy lying there! SR: I never thought that the Unnnatural duo had it in them! TD: We can't be absolutely sure that it was Bear... SR: Don't be so dense, Dross. Who else is that big, slow, and ugly? Sure you couldn't see his face, but he just exuded ugliness. [As D'Amato, totally unaware of what just occurred (despite the big thud on the canvas right behind him), starts to put the count on Derek Mota just as he clotheslines Icehawk over the security railing into the crowd.] TD: This brawl seems in no danger of ending and Dave D'Amato had reached ten! This match is over! SR: All hail small favours! [D'Amato walks over to where Tragedy is attempting to rise to his feet and raises his hand in victory. Meanwhile, Terror and Chaos start running down the aisle.] TD: Here come the other Harlequins but are they here to join in on the fight? [Apparently not, as they simply help Tragedy to his feet and accompany he and Comedy back down the aisle. However, nothing has stopped the Icehawk/Mota fight as they are now about half-way back through the crowd. Icehawk flings Mota over a row of chairs as the fans scramble out of the way.] TD: We're losing sight of the two wrestlers! It looks like the Jobber Justice Squad is back there and I think things are getting under control! What a wild, wild brawl, Steve Roberts! There's absolutely no love lost between Derek Mota and Icehawk -- their match at Birthday Bash should be an absolute classic. SR: Classic? Give me a break, Dross. Now, a classic match would be the Soundbite versus Ashley Judd in a maple syrup tuxedo match. I can just... ["Little Miss Dangerous" by Ted Nugent surprisingly cuts off Steve Roberts and Tim Dross. The crowd starts to cheer for they know who's coming out. Then, the curtain bursts open and Ms. Miki walks out.] SR: Ah, the Soundbite is happy now. TD: You do realise that means the Fabs aren't far behind? SR: Yeah, but who's going to pay any attention when that piece of oriental ass is in the ring? [Ms. Miki's dark hair is cascading down her back. She's wearing a sleeveless, blue vest top with no back, and blue slacks and blue heels. The slacks are tight in the rear to accent her great figure. She waves to the crowd as she enters the ring, where Sparkplug eagerly hands her the microphone.] MM: Konbanwa IIWF! [The crowd erupts into cheers.] As I'm sure you already know, judging by your ovation that lead me out here, that I'm Ms. Miki. [The cheering continues with a lot of catcalls thrown into the mix. She smiles and bows.] Arigato! It's nice to know I still have your undivided attention. [She looks around the crowd.] Don't worry, ladies, the fantasy of each and everyone of your ultimate ecstasies are about to grace you in just one moment. [The cheering is replaced with a new higher pitched one, but now there's also a little booing.] Please, please, all you men out there. Don't be so jealous. They can't help being God's immaculate creations. If you're worried about losing your wife or girlfriend to them, rest assured, they don't have the time service them all. [The booing now drowns out the cheering. She smiles.] Let's bring the eye candy out, shall we? They're known in geneticist's circles as the perfect human beings, here are everything a man wants to be, and everything a woman wants to be with... "The Universal Heartthrob" Agito Nakajima and "Sweet" Sho Satsuma, the FABULOUS ONES! [The house lights turn off as the opening guitar rhythm to "Kiss of Death" by Dokken plays over the PA. From above the ring lights twelve red lasers strobe throughout the crowd. The cheering is very loud as the lasers slowly fixate on the entranceway curtains. As the drums and bass kick in the song the red lasers make two words on the curtains, "FABULOUS ONES". They start to spin around, then burst into red dust as an explosion is heard, Agito walks out through the curtains. He's greeted by a mighty ovation and many flashbulbs from all around the arena. He's wearing black dress shoes, dark blue gabardine slacks, black belt, a dark blue silk button down shirt, and his long black hair is pulled back into a pony-tail. He smiles and poses in a double bicep shot for the fans, his muscles nearly bursting through his shirt sleeves. He smiles then walks down the aisle way towards the ring. Then, the red lasers start to form new words on the curtains, "ShoStealer", then "ShoStopper", then "It's ShoTime!" and on cue another explosion is heard, this one louder than before. Sho steps through the curtains to a hail of cheers. The flashbulbs greet him as well. He's sporting a huge grin and is wearing black boots, blue jeans, a white tank top and his trademark black leather tuxedo jacket, with tails, and tassels that run down the bottom of his sleeves. He spins around, waving the fans on to cheer louder, which they do. He stops and poses for a few moments, then makes his way towards the ring as the house lights come back on. Agito is already in the ring with microphone in hand.] TD: They sure know how to make an entrance. SR: Yeah, and as long as the "Soundbite" can see Miki, he doesn't care what they do. AN: We need to say a few things. First of all, Fat Watch, we're done with the two of you. You're both a bit over the hill and personally, you're out-classed, out-muscled, out-smarted, and all around out-shined by the Fabulous Ones. We aren't going around beating up on the elderly, that's not our style. What we do is defeat each and every one of the great tag teams in the wrestling world in our unstoppable Fabulous Express train to the top... [Agito stops speaking as a chant can be heard, "Take it off! Take it off!"] SR: Come on, my L'il Soundbiters, chant. We want to see Ms. Miki take it off. TD: I don't think that's... SR: Shut up, Dross. The "Soundbite" wants to see some nipples! [The crowd behind Steve start to join in the chant. Sho finally slides into the ring after flirting the whole time with a few ladies in the front row. Agito pitches the microphone to Sho and starts to unbutton his shirt.] SR: Noooooo! Not you! TD: I tried to tell you, Steve Roberts! SR: Shut your trap, baldie. [Agito slides off his shirt and starts posing for a sea of flashbulbs and a deafening ovation from the crowd. The cheering drowns out the booing. Agito is totally ripped, showing no signs of fat. A physique that is only seen on bodybuilding contestants.] SR: I hate these gay guys! SSS: Now, as Agito was saying before all you adorable vixens started to chant and cut him off... we came to the IIWF to do one thing, and that was to defeat the best. During our tenure here we've stepped into the squared circle with a lot of teams, none of which can compete with us fairly. With the IIWF big wigs realising this, they decided they should try and keep us down by having the referees turn a blind eye to the opposing teams underhanded tactics. After all, the Fabs equal mighty ratings that translate into a huge female audience, never before seen here in the Double Eye. [Agito stops posing as Ms. Miki hands him back his shirt. As he puts it back on a huge "GROAN" is heard from the crowd.] SSS: Don't worry, ladies, we always have time for you. Look at the situation this way. The head office, that's from the President down, in a roundabout way, said that they didn't want us climbing to the top too quickly. They feared that we would leave as soon as we accomplished this feat. Thereby, taking our millions of female fans, ticket buyers, and merchandise buyers with us. This would lead to the demise of the federation. So, what Agito and myself decided was to take it back at the suits in the front office. If they want to play games then we're going to win. [Sho hands the microphone to Agito.] AN: We decided to start destroying the tag teams around here, one by one, until there wasn't anything that Spreadbury-san could do but have the referees call the matches down the middle. We're going to force his hand. We started by chasing Damage Inc... oh, wait, they changed their names because they were killed by their jealousy over us... the Lost Boyz, and where are they now? Gone, they ran to wherever we weren't in the hopes of continuing their domination of the tag scene without ever stepping into the ring with the best, the Fabulous Ones. [Huge cheering] After them, what was next? [Leaning into the microphone.] SSS: Destroy one of the league's greatest teams? AN: Correct! We decided that the greatest team ever to step into the ring in the IIWF, before we got here, needed to be next and that was the Machines! [Loud booing.] [Agito hands the microphone to Sho.] SSS: Not to mention we had a score to settle for a friend... [Sho is cut off in mid-sentence, as his microphone suddenly goes dead. He shakes the microphone, trying to get it working again, when a new voice starts speaking.] SO: Hey! Up here! [The spotlight turns on, and moves up and around, until it finally lands on the jumbotron, mounted high above the entranceway of the Coliseum. Standing on the ledge just under the jumbotron are Paul Wong and Simon O'Neal, the Machines. Each man is wearing a grey fedora and sunglasses. Simon holds the microphone, and looks out over the crowd.] SO: Now that we have your attention... Mister Wong and myself want to make an announcement. Listen up carefully... WE HAVE HAD ENOUGH! Now, most of you probably need an explanation, so let me give you one. With the exception of the Harlequins, Paul and I have been around in the IIWF longer than any other current tag team. We've been around longer than the Down Boys, longer than the Predators, longer than the current Prophets of Rages, longer than ANYONE. We are the last team that has beaten the current champions... and whatever else you want to say, it was a clean win. And yet, we constantly find ourselves forgotten about. We're stuck on the undercard, if we're given any matches at all. The one time we get a title shot turns into a circus. Meanwhile, non-teams like Gaines and Temple and new teams like the Black Watch shoot by us in everyone's minds. Do you know whose fault that is? Do you know who's responsible for that? [Simon pauses] It's our fault. It's our fault because we've been side-tracked. While everyone else is concentrating on glory and wins and belts, we're worrying about something else. We're worrying about them. [He points in the ring, where the Fabulous Ones and Ms. Miki are standing.] SO: I'll give the Fabulous Ones credit. You're smart. You saw the Machines, one of the best teams in the world, and you decided to hitch your wagon to us. You counted on us to carry you to the top. But instead, you ended up dragging us down to your level. Well... no more. There's a part of me that just want to forget you. We have better things to deal with than a pair of Japanese steroid-using sissies and their call girl of a manager. But too much has happened, too many things have gone on. There must be retribution, there must be payback. For instance... Paul's car. His beloved BMW. We understand that you guys won't pay for the repairs... [Shaking his head.] And why? Let's go to the source. [Simon hands another microphone to his partner, then takes a few steps out of the spotlight. A huge heel pop erupts as Simon walks back into the spotlight... shoving a third person in front of him.] TD: Oh my... that's Mr. Tsuburaya! They've kidnapped the leader of the Fabulous Ones! SR: Idiots. You don't kidnap the rich guy. Who's going to pay the ransom? [Paul Wong steps towards Mr. Tsuburaya, and the boos grow louder for Paul.] PW: You know, I... [Paul turns around and looks out at the crowd, and a "WOMAN BEATER" chant starts. Paul shakes his head in disgust, and speaks over the head of Mr. Tsuburaya towards his partner.] PW: Simon... how long have you been pissing off everyone in wrestling? [Simon looks puzzled, obviously not expecting this from his partner] SO: I don't know... most of my career. Three, four years. PW: Exactly. You don't like the fans, they don't like you, and you wouldn't give a damn about them. You make no bones about it... and while I've always disagreed with you about it, I'll give you respect for saying it. But me... for all of those years, I went out of my way to be "fan-friendly". I signed the autographs, I shook the hands, I kissed the babies. Whenever someone needed a wrestler to be a goodwill ambassador for their league, I volunteered. And I did it gladly. Because I thought that's the way it was supposed to be done. And this is how I'm repaid. After more than three years of trying to do the right things for the fans, after one attack on Miki, a woman who did her damnedest to destroy the team of the Machines, all of you... [he points out to the audience] decide to treat me like dirt. [He turns and faces Mr. Tsuburaya. Even from the height, Simon's face has a worried expression. Paul continues.] You know, I was going to yell and scream at you for the Fabulous Ones and for being banned from "Countdown" and for my car. And at first, I was going to yell at you, and tell you to get your boy toys off our backs. But I've got a better idea. SR: It'll be his first idea ever. TD: I don't like this. Simon O'Neal is trying to calm Paul Wong down, talk him out of whatever he has planned. [Paul turns and flashes a smirk that looks like his partner's] PW: All of you IIWF fans want to boo me? Let me give you a REAL reason to boo me. Consider this a gift from me to the IIWF fans. [With that he boots Mr. Tsuburaya in the stomach. Doubling him over, Paul picks him up. Walks over to the edge on the twenty foot tall jumbotron, over by the cheap seats. And. And... There are screams from the audience, and an audible THUD.] TD: PAUL WONG JUST POWERBOMBED MR. TSUBURAYA INTO THE AUDIENCE! SR: Wow. I didn't think the gay guy had it in him. [Simon just looks on in shock as Paul picks up the microphone again. The Fabulous Ones quickly leave the ring and head out into the audience, ignoring the surrounding fans as they go to their leader. Paul straightens out his hat and speaks to the Fabulous Ones.] PW: If any of you get in our way again... I'll kill you. [With that, Paul walks away from the spotlight. Simon finally seems to shake out of his reverie and follows his partner, a stunned expression still on his face.] TD: We've got a serious problem here. Mr. Tsuburaya was powerbombed a good forty feet, and he landed right into the middle of the audience. I have no idea if he's still alive, and I think he hurt several other people as he landed. [There is chaos in the stands as fans scatter, screaming. The Fabulous Ones immediately rush up from the ring towards the area of the stands where Tsuburaya was dropped. Meanwhile, Paul Wong shows no remorse as he is led out of sight by Simon O'Neal. Security staff and officials are quickly on the scene, and the siren of an ambulance is heard.] TD: Oh... oh my. That was way over the line, Steve Roberts. _Way_ over the line. Folks, we're going to take... we're going to take a break. We'll be right back. Don't go away. [Cut to a wide-angle view of the stands where chaos reigns, orange-shirted security staff trying to clear the area around the injured Mr. Tsuburaya and the fans who broke his fall. 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+