________ ______ __ ____ ___ __ . _ ___ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| / /\ | | || \| \ /\ \ / |\ || / \| | | | || | \ v v / | __| \__ /__\ | | ||__/| |/__\ v | \||| __|-| | |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| \ \| v | \|__/ \| | || \_|| | | __________________________/...hour two...\........|...|.......|....| LIVE! IIWF Coliseum, Portland, Oregon 2 May 1998 [The graphics fade through to interior shots of the jam-packed IIWF Coliseum, the crowd unusually subdued. A wide-angle shot reveals that an ambulance has backed into the stands via an emergency exit, and paramedics are treating a number of fans. Cut to the broadcast table at ringside, where Tim Dross and "Soundbite" Steve Roberts are seated.] TD: Welcome back to IIWF Saturday Night, folks. We apologise for the hold-up in the proceedings here tonight, and if you've just joined us, thanks for tuning in. We have a serious situation here, with a number of injured fans and the manager of the Fabulous Ones, Mr. Tsuburaya, apparently in critical condition after... well, let's show you what happened. [Cut to footage captioned, "Moments Ago." The Fabulous Ones are in the ring, and they are interrupted by the arrival of the Machines, who are picked out by a spotlight standing on the ledge at the foot of the Jumbotron above the entranceway, some thirty feet above the floor of the Coliseum. Paul Wong drags Mr. Tsuburaya to the edge of the ledge, boots the elderly Oriental man in the stomach, before picking him up... ...and powerbombing him off the ledge into the audience. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: The Machines were just out of control here tonight, Steve Roberts. Powerbombing a helpless manager into the stands... we have reports that a dozen fans have suffered injuries of some sort, and Mr. Tsuburaya himself is in serious condition. [Cut to the area of the stands fenced off by a human wall of IIWF security staff, while paramedics load up their ambulance with two stretchers, one containing Mr. Tsuburaya, and the other, apparently, an injured fan. The ambulance's siren wails briefly as the emergency vehicle leaves the Coliseum via the exit, and the shot cuts back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: It looks like the IIWF's medical team will be able to deal with the other injuries out there. Unbelievable, Steve Roberts. SR: I smell litigation, Dross. The suits aren't going to be happy about this. TD: You're not kidding, Steve Roberts. Folks, we'll try and get you an update on the condition of Mr. Tsuburaya before we go off the air tonight -- and we'll try and get word of what actions the IIWF administration plan to take against the Machines for this heinous turn of events. Right now, folks, we have another hour of tremendous action to bring you. If you'll excuse me, Steve Roberts. SR: Break a leg, Dross. [Dross leaves the broadcast position and heads into the ring, the fans now settling as the disturbance by the jumbotron appears to have been contained. The house lights dim once more and the ring is illuminated by bright spotlights as Tim Dross raises the microphone to his lips:] TD: Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. Now, let's get back to the action! [Big pop from the fans, and a chant of "I-I-W-F! I-I-W-F!" breaks out in the fervent Coliseum crowd.] TD: It is my pleasure at this time to introduce to you a man who is a legend in the city of Portland. A former _superstar_, if you will, of other local and national promotions, a man to whom we were re-introduced right here last week... until he was brutally attacked by the newly-formed Coalition of "To Excess" Rick Williams and Derek Mota. [Big pop as the fans work out who they are about to see.] TD: Ladies and gentlemen, will you please welcome... STEVE SAMPSON! ["Fanfare for the Common Man" plays as the fans begin to cheer. Through the curtains in the back walks Steve Sampson, wearing a "Big Greggy Cool" t-shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. The fans chant "SAMPSON! SAMPSON!" as Steve walks to the ring. Sampson pauses for a moment to point to a sign that says "Steve Sampson: Portland's Pride and Joy". Sampson steps through the ropes and salutes all four sides of the arena, to an appreciative pop. Sampson then walks over to Tim Dross and shakes his hand.] TD: Steve, welcome back to the IIWF Coliseum. As we all know, last week, you had a bit of a run-in with Rick Williams and Derek Mota, which led to you being attacked by the duo in this very ring. SS: Yeah. We all know what happened, Dross. Believe me, I've watched the freakin' tape all week. And each time, I see that I'm getting set up, but like a big shlumpke, I get attacked. Dross, I've been doing this for going on five years now. I've seen every two bit attack and cheapshot from guys with twice the talent of those two, and I've been able to stop them. So why now? What made this time different than all the countless other times? I'll tell you exactly what happened. I got soft. I let my own hype as a former champion get into my head. I didn't think that two punks like Williams and Mota would have the guts to do something like that. A wise man once said "With Swollen Head, come Swollen Ass", and believe me..he was right. Score one for the Mid-Card. TD: So, you asked Daniel Spreadbury for this time, and he granted it to you. You, in fact, demanded this time or you'd break off negotiations. What's the point, Steve? What are you out here for? Certainly not to give Williams and Mota credit. [Sampson asks for the microphone, and Dross hands it to him. Sampson leans his arms on a turnbuckle and looks out towards the crowd as he begins to speak again.] SS: Y'know, there's a building across town. A converted bowling alley that was renamed "The Grapplearium". That place was my home for over a year. I got in touch with what wrestling was, and I knew what I was supposed to do to win. The time came that I ruled that place with an iron fist. The Grapplearium was _my_ house, and any wrestler that stepped into _my_ ring got their ass kicked right out. I may not have won every match that I ever fought in the Grapplearium, but I sure gave each of my opponents a beating that they're not soon to forget. Now, I'm moving on up to the sky, to the super-duper deluxe wrestling palace that is the IIWF Coliseum. Let me tell you right now, this isn't some bowling alley. To be truthful, for a brief moment last Saturday, I got blinded by the lights. The whole show that the By-God World's Number 1 Federation, IIWF, puts on was just too much. I was born in a small town in Washington State. I never got to see much of the "big city". And when I was blinded, the wolves came out and struck. That's why I'm giving you guys credit. You drove me to sign an IIWF contract more than you drove me away from it. Congratulations, Williams. By trying to hurt Spreadbury by attacking his guest, you really made your worst nightmare come true. TD: So you're now officially signed with the IIWF? SS: Yes, Tim. I'm officially in the IIWF, and I know my mission. It may be a small mission at first, but it's one I must take care of if I'm supposed to take care of business and return to my glory in my adopted hometown. That business is to pin Rick Williams' shoulders to this mat. But you see, Tim, there's a small problem with that. I can say I'm going to come out here at Birthday Bash and pin Williams' shoulders down to the mat, but Derek Mota's going to have something to say about that. Let's face it, Tim, wolves have this tendency to run in packs. Everyone knows that if I were to come into this arena for a match with Williams alone, Mota and Williams would have me for lunch, and send my bones back to Vancouver in a ziplock bag. This problem bugged me for the better part of the week, Tim. I'll tell you that I had to think of someone I knew could even the score, and someone I could actually trust. I thought about Gunnar Gaines, but he's busy translating heavy Scottish Brogue. I thought about Caleb Temple for a second. But there was this small fact about kidnapping babies early last year that sorta soured me to the preacher man. Then I realised; I was looking in all the wrong places. Forget the past, I thought, the present is where you can find your second. TD: Steve, you're babbling. Who did you find to be your second against Williams and Mota? SS: Well, Tim, let's get Mota and Williams out here right now. They need to see this to believe it. [Mota and Williams walk out from the back of the arena and stop mid-way down the aisle. They look up to Sampson with a "What do _you_ want?" attitude.] SS: Hi fellas. Good to see you again. I gotta admit, you guys don't look half as smug as you did last week. Perhaps you're wondering what this crazy "legend" has planned for you two. Hell, I have no business being in the IIWF, anyway. I should just be a janitor and get it over with. Like I said, it took me all week to figure this one out. But finally, I found the perfect man to do the job. Him. [Sampson points to the front row, where a man is seated. When Sampson points to him, the man stands up. When this man hits the ring, Steve gives him the microphone, and stands back with Dross, whose jaw is wide open at this enormous beast of a man, who stands at over seven feet tall and weighs more than three hundred pounds.] RD: [grinning at Dross] So... what's the question you all want answered, eh? I'm guessing it's something along the lines of..."Who the hell is this guy, and what's he doing in the IIWF?" Well, let's take care of the first question first...then I'll move on to the second. My name is Robert Donovan. No fancy nicknames, no flashy gimmicks...just seven feet, two inches, three hundred and ten pounds of pure hardcore ass-kicking. [Donovan grins at Sampson and Dross.] RD: I'm here in the IIWF for several reasons...one of them is respect. Respect for this man right here... [Donovan points at Sampson] who happens to be the godfather to my only son. I watched what happened to him last Saturday... [Donovan's face grows serious; his eyes narrow.] ...and it made me absolutely _sick_. I saw in Steve's eyes that he knew something was up, but couldn't quite tell what. That lying snake Mota had it planned all along...however, I'm guessing what he DIDN'T plan on was that Steve would go out and look for a helping hand. Well, Derek, Rick...all I've got to say is this. The last time, Steve wasn't ready. But now...hell...if you boys have got any balls, why don't you come on up here and take the ass whipping you so richly deserve? [Sampson takes the microphone from Donovan and jumps onto the second turnbuckle, looking directly into the eyes of Mota and Williams.] SS: I can tell that you guys are still thinking about this. So I'll tell you guys what. We'll give you ten seconds to get your asses in this ring so we can beat you two within an inch of your damned lives. If you don't comply by the ten second time limit, we'll come out and beat the snot right out of you. And this time, I make no promises about not busting your faces. I'm an employee now. I can do whatever the hell I want to you guys. [Tim Dross leaves the ring hastily and goes back to the broadcast table with Steve Roberts. Sampson jumps down from the turnbuckle and looks out at the cheering crowd.] SS: Okay. Here goes. One... two... ten! [Sampson and Donovan roll out of the ring, and rush head on at Mota and Williams. The foursome start trading punches and kicks. Sampson bashes Williams' head off of the guardrail and mounts him to pummel him. Donovan and Mota roll towards the back, just hammering each other. Williams rolls over and begins pounding on Sampson, but is quickly rolled over into an armbar submission as Griff and the rest of the security team make their way down. Griff has to physically pull Sampson off of Rick Williams, who is slamming his free hand off the ground. Donovan and Mota have meanwhile disappeared into the back. Tim Dross returns to the broadcast position as the crowd's cheers die down.] TD: What a bombshell, Steve Roberts! Sampson introduces this monster, this man named Robert Donovan! The Coalition may just have bitten off more than they can chew here! What else are we going to see here tonight?! SR: I don't know, Dross -- but that Donovan guy is just huge. If he's even half as mean as he looks, Williams and Mota are going to be in big, big trouble. TD: Folks, what a night it's been so far -- and it's only going to get bigger and better. We have semi-final matches in both the Intercontinental Championship and "King of the Cruisers" tournament coming up, plus the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi teaming with Tiger Claw battling Serge Annis and Charles Scheffield. And don't forget our main event, as Steve "the Fury" Kowalski faces Deathbringer in World Heavyweight Championship action. So, without any further ado, let's get straight back up to the ring for our next match. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| INTERCONTINENTAL TOURNAMENT SEMI-FINAL MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Marty Warnett vs. "Shadoe" Savage Rage ....................................................................... WRITER: Mike Sonby [Sparkplug Lee heads into the ring, as his slowly-growing legion of fans start a "SPARKPLUG!" chant. Lee grins foolishly before beginning.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, this contest in the semi-final match for the Intercontinental Title Tournament! It is a one-fall match. Introducing first, hailing from Halifax, Nova Scotia, weighing 248 pounds, here is "The Black Jesus", Shadoe Rage! [The Death March begins, and the spotlight focuses on the entranceway. The curtains part, and Marissa leads her charge into the arena. The crowd explodes as Shadoe Rage makes his way into the arena... and then begins climbing the scaffold to the jumbotron wall!] TD: What in the world is Shadoe Rage doing? SR: The "Black Jesus" is looking out about his crowd of fans, showing them the way! He is leading his flock! [Shadoe reaches the jumbotron and stands in front of it, waiting. Seeing that Rage isn't moving, Sparkplug continue his duties.] SL: And his opponent, the number one contender for the Intercontinental Title, weighing 247 pounds, from Cardiff, Wales, here is The "Party Maniac", Marty Warnett! [No music plays, and Warnett walks out alone with an intense look on his face. He gets about five steps when he notices that Rage is not in the ring, just as Rage leaps...] TD: Rage jumps off the jumbotron! He grabs Warnett... DDT! He just DDT'd Warnett after leaping off that jumbotron. His momentum must have been... SR: He's the man, Dross! Rage is waltzing through this match, to the IC belt! The "Black Jesus" lives! [The Disciples have a conniption fit in cheering for their hero, and even most of the other fans cheer on that move. Only the Party Maniacs are screaming for a disqualification.] TD: Rage doesn't look too good after that blow, but Marty Warnett look unconscious. This match hasn't even officially started yet, but with one move, Rage may have taken Warnett out of the tournament. SR: And the Black Jesus is risin', my brothers! [Indeed, Shadoe Rage is getting back to his feet, a small smile on his determined face. He starts kicking at Warnett, who is not moving after the DDT. Rage picks up Warnett, drags him over to the steel railing separating the aisle from the wrestlers, and slams Warnett's head into the railing.] SR: This match is over, Baby Dolls. Rage is heading to the finals. TD: Not yet! [The fans start to cheer as the Natural Predators come out to help their fellow 4-D member. Bear tackles Rage, shoving him away from Warnett, while the Grey Phoenix and Kuyler Greyson check out Marty's condition. Bear is pummelling Rage, until... CRACK] TD: Marissa just nailed Bear with a chair to the back of the head. SR: Yes! Give it to me, honey! [The chairshot stuns the massive Bear long enough for Shadoe Rage to nail Bear with a clothesline. The Grey Phoenix goes over and starts hitting Rage, but Shadoe Rage stuns The Grey Phoenix with a superkick, then starts trading blows with Bear again.] TD: Shadoe Rage is fighting three men at once... and he's holding his own! SR: Yeah... I'm disappointed. Rage is only taking on three of those 4-D guys. He should be doing better than this. [Rage hits a high kneelift onto Bear, but is caught with a elbow from the Grey Phoenix. He hiptosses Phoenix down the aisle, then starts to charge after Phoenix... but is caught from behind by a dropkick from Marty Warnett. Warnett and Rage start to trade shots as Bear, rubbing his head where the chair hit him, comes over to where Rage and Warnett are brawling, and the three of them keep going down the aisle. Warnett accidentally trips over the rising Grey Phoenix, giving Rage a chance to hit Bear with a shot below the groin and DDT to the cement. Rage is then nailed by a double-dropkick from Warnett and Phoenix, sending him sprawling down the aisle to ringside. Rage rolls under the ropes, and dares the three men into the ring.] TD: I don't believe it! Shadoe Rage fought off three men... and he's daring them to continue! SR: Three words. Warnett... is... dead. [Bear and Phoenix are ready to accept the invitation, but Warnett holds them back. He talks to both of the Natural Predators and Kuyler, and his motions indicate that he is telling them to go back. Meanwhile, Marissa has joined Rage inside the ring, and she is holding back Rage from charging them. The rest of 4-D reluctantly agree to Warnett's request, and head back up toward the locker room. Warnett rolls under the ring, and all hell breaks loose. Ding! Ding! Ding! Warnett is met by a boot from Rage, followed by a series of kicks displaying Rage's martial arts skills. Three kicks connect, but Warnett ducks under the fourth to grab Rage in a belly-to-belly suplex and plant Rage, giving Warnett the breathing room he needs. Rage is back up to his feet, and gets into a lockup with Warnett. Rage shoves him into the corner, and gives him an audible chop across his chest, followed by a whip to the opposite corner. Rage charges, but Warnett ducks out of the way, and Rage smashes into the corner. As he tumbles out, Warnett picks him up for a reverse atomic drop.] TD: A very fast-paced beginning to the match. SR: Good... Shadoe can spend two minutes setting up Warnett for the pin, and the rest of the time having fun. TD: Having fun? SR: You know... knocking Warnett for one end of the ring to the other, cutting him open, sending him to the hospital... that kind of fun. [Warnett starts hammering Shadoe in the face, but Shadoe pulls on Warnett's tights and throws him between the ropes and out of the ring. As Warnett gets to his feet, he is met by a no-hands plancha from Shadoe Rage, sending both men to the floor. Rage gets to his feet and throws Warnett back into the ring, then climbs up to the top turnbuckle and levels Warnett with a double-sledge hammer from the top rope. Rage covers for a one count, then pulls up Warnett by the hair and hits a swinging neckbreaker before another cover for a one count. Rage picks Warnett up, and riles up the Sychopaths by delivering a Sycho Kick onto Warnett.] SR: Having fun... just like I said. [Rage goes for a second swinging neckbreaker, but Warnett manages to hook Rage's arms, and goes for a backslide and a surprise two count. Rage gets to his feet and attempts a short-arm clothesline, but Warnett ducks and connects with a superkick, then bounces off the ropes and splashes Rage. He covers for a count of two, then whips Rage into the ropes. On the rebound, Warnett draws a huge pop for a hurricanrana. He covers: 1 -- 2 -- Kickout!] TD: Warnett with a flurry of offensive moves. SR: All things Warnett are offensive, Dross. [Warnett picks Rage up, but is met by a shot to the throat. Rage nails Warnett with two quick chops, then whips him to the corner. Warnett comes out with a clothesline, then picks up Rage and bulldogs him to the mat. Warnett quickly scales the ropes, and heads up to the top turnbuckle. Rage gets to his feet just as Warnett leaps off, and Warnett nails a dropkick on Rage. Warnett covers for a count of 1 -- 2 -- Kickout!] SR: Dammit, Rage! I bestowed upon you the title of "Black Jesus"! Who are you to have problems with a twerp like Warnett? TD: Warnett is a former Intercontinental Champion... SR: Doesn't matter! Warnett is a joke! And Rage should be throttling him all over the ring. [Warnett picks up Rage, but a rake to the face slows Warnett down, and Rage throws Warnett over the top rope. As the referee warns Rage, Marissa picks up a chair and slam it against the unsuspecting Warnett's back! A huge pop erupts from the Disciples, as Warnett falls to the floor. Rage finishes his argument, and heads out of the ring. He picks up Warnett, and powerslams him onto the concrete floor. He throws Warnett under the ropes, enters the ring, and picks Warnett upside down. He pauses, then piledrives Warnett on his head. He covers: 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! Rage picks up Warnett and pivots him into a reverse neckbreaker, then drops him. Instead of covering, Shadoe Rage drops a leg across Warnett's neck, then twists Warnett's head. The referee asks for a submission, but Warnett refuses.] TD: Shadoe Rage concentrating on the neck of Marty Warnett. That DDT before the match probably weakened the neck, and Rage is methodically working that area over. SR: Shadoe's back on my good side! Come on, Rage! Rip his head off and give it to me! [Warnett turns around, and Rage changes it into a front facelock. Warnett attempts a Northern Lights Suplex, but Rage blocks it, then lifts Warnett up... and plants him with a brainbuster! He covers... 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! Rage whips Warnett into the ropes. On the rebound, he grabs Warnett, tilt-a-whirls him, and plants him with another piledriver. The cover... 1 -- 2 -- Kickout!] TD: Marty Warnett will not go down! SR: Sure he will. Just ask the... TD: [interrupting] Rage climbs up to the top rope! [Shadoe Rage stands perched on the top buckle, then launches with a kneedrop aimed at Warnett's head. At the last second, Warnett rolls to his right, and Rage misses the kneedrop. Rage rolls around, clutching his left leg, while Marty lies on his stomach next to him.] TD: Rage is in trouble... but Marty is too tired to take advantage of the situation. SR: I took advantage of the situation... TD: Yes, yes, best weekend of your life. We know this. Rage is favouring that left leg, but he gets back to his feet. He goes over to Warnett, and picks him up... but Marty delivers a shot! [Marty delivers a second chop, and a third... Marty doubles over Rage with a kick, then plants Rage with a DDT. He covers for a count of one before the kickout. As Rage gets his feet, Marty bounces off the ropes, leaps up for a hurricanrana...] SR: YES! TD: Powerbomb by Rage! Rage caught Marty, and planted him onto the mat with the powerbomb. He covers... [The official makes the count: 1 -- 2 -- kickout! Shadoe Rage tests his leg, then drops an elbow onto Warnett. He picks up Marty and hooks him in a front facelock, then turns it into...] TD: Bullet Train to Hell! Shadoe Rage is stealing Sychosys' moves. He covers... One! Two! Kickout! So close! [Rage picks up Warnett again, and delivers a Rocker Dropper. He covers again: 1 -- 2 -- kickout!] TD: Each time, Warnett is kicking out just a little bit slower. Rage is really working over Warnett's neck. [Rage picks up Warnett again, and sets him up for a tombstone piledriver. The Sychopaths go crazy, realising what's happening. Once in position, Rage puts his hands under Warnett's arms, hoists him up, and slams him into the mat for a Knightmare. He covers... 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! Big pop! Rage picks up Warnett for a reverse atomic drop, then picks him up and sets him on the top turnbuckle. Shadoe Rage climbs up him, and hooks Warnett up in a front facelock. With Marissa cheering him on, Shadoe Rage lifts Warnett up... sets him in position... and drops him right onto his head.] TD: Super brainbuster! SR: Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the fact that this was Marty's last match... [Shadoe covers Warnett, and counts along with the referee: 1 -- 2...] TD: The referee spots Warnett's foot on the ropes! Somehow, Marty Warnett got his foot on the ropes. SR: Dammit! This match should be over! We should be watching Shadoe get into the finals now! [Shadoe starts to argue with the referee, but Marissa heads up to the ring apron to calm him down. It takes a few seconds, but Shadoe calms down. Warnett still hasn't moved. Shadoe Rage drags him over to the middle of the ring, and hooks the leg for another cover: 1 -- 2 - Kickout! Rage shakes his head in disgust, and picks up Warnett again. He whips him into the ropes, but somehow Marty doesn't let go, but reverses the whip. Shadoe Rage bounces off the ropes and uses the momentum to help him charge at Marty Warnett. Just inches before hitting Warnett, Marty bends down, and as Shadoe Rage gets to Warnett, Marty lifts up, throwing Shadoe Rage over his shoulder... over the top rope... and... * CRASH * Silence. Then, a huge pop from the crowd!] TD: SHADOE RAGE was just backdropped through the table! SR: That wasn't any table right near the ring, Dross! That table was a good seven feet from the ring. Rage just went flying from the backdrop. TD: Warnett somehow got the energy to send Rage flying with that backdrop, and Rage just crashed into the timekeeper's table, snapping it in half. Rage isn't moving. Oh, we've seen enough injuries here tonight already. This is bad. [The referee hops out of the ring and goes over to the table. He looks at Shadoe, trying to decide if the match could continue. Before he makes a decision, Marissa is by the referee's side, pleading for the match to continue. Shadoe moves from under the table, and the camera shows Rage still breathing with his eyes open. The referee finally decides to allow the match to continue, and heads back in to start a count-out. Inside the ring, Marty Warnett is just sitting on the mat, trying to recover. Marissa goes over to the timekeeper's table, and tries to help Shadoe Rage up. Rage is covered by the pieces of the table.] TD: The referee is counting Shadoe Rage out, and Shadoe looks in serious trouble. Marissa has to practically carry Shadoe Rage over to the ring. He's on wobbly legs, and I'm not sure he could stand by himself. SR: He's out on his feet, Dross. That was a hell of a shot he took. [Marissa helps Shadoe Rage get under the ropes just as the referee reaches eight. Rage just lies on the mat. Marty, meanwhile, has gotten to his feet. He goes over and covers Rage: 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! Warnett waistlocks Shadoe and lifts him up for a German Suplex, then follows it up with a Russian legsweep. Warnett then uses a gutwrench suplex before covering: 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! Warnett picks up Shadoe, doubles him over, and nails a DDT onto Rage. Instead of covering, Warnett picks up Shadoe again and drops him with a stomachbreaker over his knee. Warnett starts to climb the ropes, as the Party Maniacs go wild.] TD: He's trying for the Hangover! But he's slow to climbing the ropes. [Marissa jumps up to the ring apron, causing Warnett to abandon his efforts. Warnett walks over to Marissa, grabs her hair from behind, bends her back, and plants a long kiss on her, drawing cheers from the Party Maniacs, boos from the Disciples, and a death threat from Marissa. She goes to attack Warnett, but stops when the referee warns her about a disqualification. Warnett gives her a small wave before heading up to the ropes.] TD: Warnett just played with fire. Look at Marissa... she looks like she wants to kill him. SR: And she could. [Warnett hops up to the turnbuckle, looks at Shadoe Rage lying on the mat, and leaps off for an attempted headbutt onto Rage's rib cage... ...that connects! The Party Maniacs explode as Marty Warnett hooks the leg: 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! SR: Yes! The "Black Jesus" rises! TD: Amazing! I didn't think Shadoe Rage could be still in the match after that backdrop and a Hangover. But he is. [Warnett pulls Rage up, spins him around, and locks in a full nelson, which turns into a suplex. Warnett covers again: 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! Warnett whips Rage into the ropes, but Shadoe Rage somehow reverses the whip, then attempts a backdrop of his own. But...] TD: SUNSET FLIP BY WARNETT! He covers... One... two... No! RAGE GOT A SHOULDER UP! SR: Stop shouting! [Warnett pounds on the mat in frustration, then grab's Shadoe's left leg and drops an elbow onto Rage's knee. He then sets Rage's leg onto the ropes and jumps on it.] TD: That was the leg that Shadoe banged up earlier in the match. It looks like Marty is going after the leg. [Warnett drops on Rage's knee again, then drags him into the middle of the ring. He spins around, hooks the ankle, and...] TD: Warnett locks in the End of the Party Figure-Four leglock! Rage may not be able to continue. SR: He's not submitting. The "Black Jesus" never submits. He might fall unconscious, though. TD: Even against Marty Warnett? SR: Even... no, I can't say it. The "Black Jesus" will prevail. Against Warnett, he sure as hell will! [Warnett has the figure-four set in the middle of the ring. Instead of fading even further, Shadoe Rage seems energised by the pain to his ankle and leg. He sits up, and stares at Marty with an intense stare. Marissa pounds the mat to encourage Shadoe. Shadoe looks over and tries to punch Warnett, but can't reach over far enough. The referee asks for a submission, but Rage yells a refusal.] TD: Rage needs to escape this hold... but he's nowhere near the ropes. [Marissa thinks about trying to reach in, but the referee is watching her. Rage decides he can't reach the ropes, and attempt to reverse the figure-four. He starts to turn over to his left side, but Warnett adds more pressure and tries to stop him. Shadoe Rage suddenly twists the other way, and almost turns over to the right side... but Warnett catches himself just in time, and add more pressure to the figure-four. Rage's shoulders hit the mat. Another count: 1 -- 2... Shadoe gets his shoulders up. He starts to twist over to his left again. His face is contorted, not in pain but in intensity. He tries to twist to his left, to reverse the hold, to stop the pain in his leg... ...and he succeeds.] TD: Shadoe Rage reversed the End of the Party! SR: Yes! That punk can't beat you, Shadoe! [Warnett, though is right near the ropes, and reaches over and grabs them. The referee forces the break, and Warnett and Rage struggle to get up.] TD: Both men are exhausted. They've taken a tremendous amount of punishment. [Warnett is first to his feet, and charges at Rage. Rage uses Warnett's momentum, picks him up, and hotshots him on the ropes. The move expends most of Rage's reserves, and he just lies on the mat. Neither man is moving. The referee begins a count.] One! Two! Three! Four! Five! [Shadoe Rage sits up, to the cheers of the Disciples] Six! [Marty Warnett sits up, to the cheers of the Party Maniacs] Seven! [Warnett uses the ropes to start to pull himself up, while Rage heads over to the opposite ropes for the same purpose.] Eight! [Warnett gets to his knees, stopping the count.] TD: Both men are so exhausted that one more move might be enough for the pinfall. SR: All right! Things just got more interesting. [The referee is over by Warnett, so he doesn't spot Marissa pulling a pair of brass knuckles out and handing them to Shadoe. Shadoe puts them on his hand, nodding at her.] TD: No... this has been an outstanding match. This type of stuff isn't necessary. SR: To beat Warnett... no. To bash his head in and drive him out of the sport... no. To have fun? Sure! [Warnett and Rage are both on their feet, and slowly move towards each other. Rage lashes out with the knuckles... Warnett ducks under the fist, then leaps up with a dropkick, driving Shadoe Rage into the corner... and sends the brass knuckles flying onto the mat.] TD: Shadoe Rage's head just collided with the corner turnbuckle. SR: Hey! Look at Warnett! [Marty Warnett dives onto the knuckles, and slips them onto his hand, unnoticed by the referee. As Shadoe comes out of the turnbuckle, Warnett rears back, and nails Rage with the brass knuckles. Shadoe goes down to the mat, and Warnett hooks the leg, slightly pulling on Rage's tights: 1 -- 2 -- 3! Ding! Ding! Ding!] SR: No! Not again! TD: Marty Warnett uses the brass knuckles against Shadoe Rage! SR: Dammit! Anyone but him! ["Just Like Paradise" begins, and the referee raises Warnett's arm. Sparkplug makes the announcement.] SL: The Winner of the match, moving on to the finals... MARTY WARNETT! [Marissa jumps into the ring, pointing at Warnett's hand.] TD: Wait a second... wait a second... SR: That dope! That idiot Warnett! He's still got the knuckles on his hand! TD: I thought he hid them on Shadoe Rage when he covered Rage, but... SR: He must have just been copping a feel! Talk about a complete idiot. The first rule is to get rid of the evidence! Marissa just caught Marty Warnett still holding on to the knuckles! Yes! [Indeed, the referee spots the weapon on Marty Warnett's hand, and immediately calls for the bell to ring again, screaming at Sparkplug Lee. Ding! Ding! Ding!] SL: Ladies and Gentlemen, the reversed has reversed the decision! Therefore, the winner by disqualification, moving on to the finals... SHADOE RAGE! [The "Death March" starts up.] SR: Now why is that idiot grinning? [Indeed, Marty Warnett doesn't appear upset. He's even smiling. He shows off the brass knuckles, takes a step towards Marissa, and...] TD: He's going to hit Marissa with those brass knuckles! [Warnett walks up to Marissa, and taps her with the knuckles against the side of her face. Marissa's face turns to one of shock as the knuckles bend on contact.] TD: Huh? SR: Brass knuckles aren't suppose to do that... maybe Marissa's head really is that tough. [Warnett pulls of the knuckles and bends them, showing them to be made of foam. He hands them to the referee.] SR: Okay, I'm lost. TD: Warnett switched knuckles! The real ones that he hit Rage with are hidden on Shadoe Rage. Those are foam ones! [The referee examines the "brass" knuckles, and confers with Sparkplug Lee again.] SL: Ladies and gentlemen... the referee has REVERSED the reversal! Therefore, the match goes back to the original decision. The winner of the match, moving on to the finals... MARTY WARNETT! ["Just Like Paradise" starts up again, this time for good, as Warnett hops out of the ring to celebrate with his Party Maniacs. Marissa helps Shadoe Rage up, explaining what happened.] TD: I don't believe this! Marty Warnett tricked Marissa with those fake brass knuckles, and moves on to the finals. SR: The referee should have disqualified Warnett! This is... I don't... dammit, ANYONE but Warnett! TD: Marty Warnett outfoxed Shadoe Rage, and will be in the finals for the Intercontinental Title. What a match here tonight on IIWF Saturday Night! [Rage is helped slowly back up the aisle by a furious Marissa Monet, the fans chanting, "MAR-TY! MAR-TY!" as the duo depart. Cut back to the broadcast table at ringside.] TD: So it's Marty Warnett who progresses to Birthday Bash to battle either Simon Lebec or Timothy N. Turner for the belt in just two weeks! That second semi-final will be right here next week, so be sure to tune in for that. Right now, however, we have the first semi-final in the "King of the Cruisers" tournament, as "Iconoclast" Sean Watts, who has defeated both the Kabuki Kid and Tiger Claw to progress to this stage, goes up against "Armitage" Steven Spector, who has pinned Joey Rappoport and Youth Gone Wild to reach the semi-finals. Let's get up to the ring. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| IIWF KING OF THE CRUISERS TOURNAMENT SEMI-FINAL: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| "Iconoclast" Sean Watts vs. Steven Spector ....................................................................... WRITER: Ian Jalbert [The cameraman cuts back into the ring, where Sparkplug Lee is seen signing autographs for the kids. Once he realises that the cameras are on him, he quickly heads to the centre of the ring, and begins speaking into his pen.] SL: ... [After a few seconds, he realises his error and grabs the microphone, continuing his ring introductions.] SL: The next match is a King of the Cruisers Semi-final Match! It is set for one fall with a thirty-minute time limit! Coming to the ring, he comes from Seattle, Washington, weighing in at 238 lbs., he is the "Iconoclast", Sean Watts! [The IIWF crowd gives a loud reaction for Watts, unfortunately we can't tell what it is because it is so mixed. Many fans recognise the talent from his two tournament wins thus far, but many others despise the attitude that has separated him from the other tournament participants. Watts comes out, a nonchalant look on his face, almost looking bored as he stretches in the ring, awaiting his opponent.] SL: And his opponent... from Cartaret, New Jersey, he weighs in at 223lbs, he is "Armitage" Steve Spector!!! ["Cut You Up" by Peter Murphy starts to play over the PA as the crowd starts giving a very mixed reaction. "Armitage" Steve Spector is seen coming through the curtain, and the boos start outweighing the cheers. Chants of "Sampson, Sampson" can be heard, but Spector ignores the chants. He walks with a determined stride on the way to the ring, never once pausing to look out into the crowd or slap hands with the fans. His eyes are focused on the ring alone, and when Spector reaches the ring he simply rolls in underneath the bottom rope. He then stands, adjusts his wristbands, never once wavering from the focused look he has in his eyes.] TD: Whoa, Spector was cheered loudly in his two tournament matches that took place in Japan -- but obviously Portland is a different world! SR: Yeah, they seem to remember Steve Sampson quite a bit back from his days in the minor leagues. TD: That is the opinion of Steve Roberts and not of the IIWF, ladies and gentlemen. SR: If it wasn't their opinion, would they still have me on TV? Dross, I _am_ the IIWF. I just say the things that everybody else is scared to say. TD: For good reason, I must add. One day, Steve Sampson or another star that you insult is going to take offence to your comments and will plaster you right through this floor! SR: Like they could get anywhere near me. You know I have a black belt in eight different styles of martial arts? TD: I think we're just about ready to get underway here. [And they are, as Spector and Watts lock up for the first time ever. Spector gets the collar and elbow tie up, and puts Watts into an Arm Bar Submission. The Iconoclast quickly turns the tables and puts on the submission move himself after a few seconds. Both wrestlers struggle back in forth for several seconds, until finally Spector is driven into the ropes and breaks the hold.] TD: Good exchange of scientific moves early on by these two excellent wrestlers. Now that we're down to the final four in this tournament, these men are easily the best of the best in the cruiserweight division throughout the world. SR: The winner of this one goes on to fight the winner of the Big Greggy Cool vs. "Playboy" Ronnie D match at Birthday Bash on the 16th. Either way, we're gonna have a good match-up at the PPV. But that's as far as I'll go for promotin' it. TD: Good enough! Mr. Spreadbury will be giving you that $5,000 bonus after all! SR: Birthday Bash. May 16. Whoopee. [Back in the ring, Spector flies into the ropes and performs a Leap Frog over Watts. Armitage bounces against the far ropes and comes off again when Sean Watts picks him up out of the air and drops him down with a spinebuster slam! Even Watts looks surprised after this move, and goes for a quick cover. 1 -- 2 -- Kickout by Spector! The crowd is rapidly getting into the match, cheering louder and louder by the second. Watts puts on a drop toe-hold on Spector and once again tries to weaken out Spector bit by bit.] TD: As much as Watts puts himself out to be a loser and a representative of the new generation of wrestling, his style is still very similar to the old school of wrestling. You don't see too many guys performing submission holds these days! [The pace of the match continues to be slow as the two wrestlers continue to work on each other, trying to figure out each other's weaknesses, avoiding to commit any errors in the meantime. A few scattered chants of "Boring!" begin in the background as Steve Spector puts on a hammerlock.] TD: Oh, and the crowd is getting a little restless here! SR: Huh? TD: I said the crowd was getting restless. SR: Oh. Sorry, I was asleep. [Watts winds up and catches Spector in the face with an elbow smash! Watts runs against the ropes and dives in on Spector, but Armitage somehow manages to pick up Sean Watts in mid-air and drop him over the top rope with a hotshot.] SR: I think we's gettin' ready to see some action now! [Spector takes a few seconds to milk some crowd reaction, and then puts on a Boston crab. The Iconoclast doesn't look anywhere near being ready to submitting to this hold, and the crowd recognise this. The crowd continues their chants of "Boring!" once more as Armitage cinches more pressure on the hold, making Watts grind his teeth in pain. Sean Watts reaches for the ropes, finds that he's too far away, and gives a huge effort, breaking the hold. Watts crumples to the ground, clutching his back as Spector hovers above him. The crowd begins to cheer "Sampson! Sampson!" repeatedly, getting on Spector's case.] TD: The people here are cheering for Steve Sampson, who isn't even in this match! Both Sampson and Spector have met before in another Portland-based promotion, and the home crowd here certainly remembers their past battles. SR: I thought there were more dumb-looking people this week than we usually get. [Spector picks up Watts and applies a release German suplex, throwing the Iconoclast several feet up in the air before releasing him into the air, several steps back. Just as Watts begins to struggle his way back up, Spector takes a few steps back and jumps in with a Leg Lariat to Watts!] TD: Great move there by Spector! We're seeing a rather slow paced match so far, but the occasional high spot has kept us on our toes here! [Watts quickly gets back up to his feet, shaking his head to get rid of the cobwebs. Spector doesn't let him go too far however, and puts on a Full Nelson Powerbomb! Spector covers him for the pin! 1 -- 2 -- and once again Sean Watts kicks out! Armitage quickly jumps onto the 2nd turnbuckle, and gets a flying elbow drop on Watts just for good measure! Steve Spector just stands in the corner, waiting for Watts to get up. Spector laughs at the predicament of Watts here, and does a standing moonsault just for fun. Steve Spector starts getting a louder crowd reaction finally, and welcomes the boos gladly. Spector launches Watts into the ropes, but it is reversed and Spector finds himself on his shoulders after Watts hits him with a flying body press! 1 -- 2 -- but Spector isn't anywhere near getting pinned yet, and Watts quickly moves onto the next hold.] TD: Back to the hammerlock here for Sean Watts! I think he's decided to slow down the pace of this match, working on Spector's arm! SR: Hey, if he injures Spector's arm, he won't be able to... you know what, in the hotel tonight! Haha! TD: I'm sure that Steve Spector has something else planned. I don't think he's into that kind of stuff. SR: Well, you know what they say. 97% of the people do it, and the other 2% are liars. TD: You missed a percent. SR: Oh yeah, and the Soundbite doesn't have to because he's got the power over millions of the earth's greatest chicks. Hell, yeah. [Watts turns Spector completely around with the hold, and then gets him with a tilt-a-whirl shoulderbreaker! Spector holds his shoulder in his good arm, looking quite pained. The Iconoclast suddenly changes gears, and begins moving at a much greater speed, helping Spector up to his feet, and throwing him into the corner. Armitage hits hard with his bad shoulder, but comes back with a powerful Clothesline, taking down Sean Watts!] TD: Good reversal by Steve Spector here, but that Clothesline took even more out of his arm than before! SR: Spector's a tough guy, Dross. Give him a few minutes here and he'll shake it off just like I do with all the ugly chicks. [Both men are lying on the ground, Watts stunned from the Clothesline, and Spector holding his bad arm. Armitage eventually makes it up to his feet first, a few kicks to the midsection keeping the Iconoclast on the ground. Spector puts Watts over the second rope, chest up, legs inside the ring. Spector climbs to the top rope, and comes off with a devastating Elbow Drop to the head of Watts, almost decapitating him, sending him flying out of the ring with a guillotine effect.] TD: Oh my! What a great move there by Spector! A move like that can decide the outcome of a match, this one could be over here! SR: Don't count on it Dross, Spector screwed up his arm even more there! [Once more, both wrestlers lay stunned, only this time they find themselves outside of the ring. Watts appears to be out cold after the devastating hold, and Spector is holding his arm in a strange position. The fan noise continues to grow as they recognise the effort coming from these two men. The count begins as the referee cannot wait any longer and tries to get the two wrestlers back into the ring... One... two... three...] TD: Both of these guys want to make it to Birthday Bash for the finals so bad. We can't have a count-out here. We can't. SR: Hey, if these guys are out, we got either Big Greggy Cool or "Playboy" Ronnie D winning it all! Hehe, maybe this ain't so bad! TD: Look at the position of Spector's arm, Steve. It doesn't look right here. I think he dislocated it after that Elbow Drop! SR: Dammit, you're right, Dross. I guess Watts has this one in the bag! [...five... six... seven... and still no-one has moved! Spector is very much conscious, but is trying to get movement back into his arm, still lying on the ground. Watts shows the first sign of consciousness here, rolling his neck around in pain. The referee suddenly stops counting and steps out of the ring, checking out the arm of Steve Spector.] TD: This could be it here! I think he might stop the match right now! SR: Spector ain't giving up, Timmy. And we'll get a riot from the Portland crowd if they stop the match right now, no matter how much they wanna see Spector lose! [The referee asks Spector if he wants to stop the match, but Armitage shakes his head vehemently. Spector stumbles towards Watts, and throws him back into the ring with his one good arm. Armitage then grabs his arm, looks up into the lights with what seemingly looks like a prayer, and twists his arm violently! The crowd gives a loud gasp that accompanies the scream of Spector, who collapses back to the ground in agony! The referee just looks at him with empathy, but decides not to end the match and just signals to the timekeeper to let the match continue.] TD: What a great display of courage by Steven Spector! His arm was dislocated there and he just popped it back into place, and now he's going to continue the match! This is exactly the kind of guts that guided him all the way to these semi-finals! These cruiserweights are the best in the world, bar none! [Spector rolls back into the ring, his arm obviously keeping him in agony, but he has regained some movement with it. Watts is back up to his feet after having been given a long rest period, and Irish whips Spector into the ropes. Spector comes back and gets caught in a hurricanrana! Watts holds the legs and goes for a pin! 1---2--- but Spector kicks out at the last second! A look of disappointment makes it's way to Watts' face as he was hoping to end it all there. Watts once again slows down the pace of the match now that he's realised that Spector is not ready to be pinned, locking on an Arm Stretch on the mat. The crowd reacts totally differently to this submission hold than the previous ones, as they realise that it could be the deciding factor in the match.] TD: Smart move by Watts here. He knows that Spector is injured. He's hurt himself. He's just going to take that arm apart move by move. [Spector doesn't call for the submission, but can't reach the ropes either. Watts continues to apply pressure here, yelling at the referee to ask for the submission, but Armitage continues to yell "No!" loudly. Spector finally reaches the ropes, catching them between his two feet as they could barely reach. The referee breaks the hold, but Watts is immediately back on Spector, tossing him back into the ropes and catching him with a dropkick to the shoulder!] SR: If that shoulder was fixed a few seconds ago, it's gonna be dislocated again! Man, poor Steve's gonna have to go to the x-ray room after this match! [Watts get right back onto the arm, grabbing it with a twist and laying a few elbows into it for good measure. Spector taps the arm, trying to keep the circulation going. Watts comes back with a Rocker Dropper onto the shoulder of Steve Spector, driving him right back into the mat! Watts covers him for the pin! 1 -- 2 -- and Armitage kicks out! The crowd roars for Armitage here as they realise exactly what he's gone through already this match!] TD: Wow, Steve Spector came in tonight as a real target by the fans, but the crowd support for him is growing every minute! [Watts signals to the crowd and gets behind "Armitage" Steve Spector as the crowd noise level reaches extreme heights!] TD: He's going for the Iconoclasm! This could be it! [Sean Watts nails his Iconoclasm, a Double Underhook DDT! Watts lies down and covers Spector for the pin! The count: 1 -- 2... and the official stops the count!] TD: What...? What happened?! SR: Spector's foot is under the ropes, Dross! His foot is under the ropes! TD: Oh my! Steven Spector is staying in this thing by the skin of his teeth here! [Watts is yelling at the referee, telling him that it was a slow count, but finally gives up and goes to Spector for another pin attempt: 1 -- 2... and Spector reverses the hold for a cradle! 1 -- 2... Watts barely kicks out at the last second! The Iconoclast is looking increasingly frustrated, whipping Spector into the ropes, looking to finish it off once again. Spector comes back and kicks Watts in the stomach, hitting him with a DDT of his own! Spector covers Watts for the pin! 1 -- 2...] SR: Kickout by Watts! Both of these guys are showing that they're pretty tough buggers out here tonight! TD: I still can't believe that Spector has made a comeback after all the damage he's taken tonight! [Spector quickly gets off and leaps to the top rope, facing towards the ring. Watts begins to move slowly, but not fast enough as Spector leaps into the air with a graceful Shooting Star Press which connects! The crowd gasps when Spector is in the air and gives a huge pop for this beautiful move! A loud "Spector! Spector" chant begins and Spector looks around with a humorous look before covering Watts for the pin: 1 -- 2 -- but Sean Watts shows that his reserves are nearly endless himself as well, and kicks out of the hold! Spector was not expecting a kick out here, but is not overly surprised and gets up, hitting a Knee Drop to the back of Watts' head.] TD: You have to admire both of these wrestlers, but it's coming to the point where one guy has to be pinned! These men have taken incredible damage so far tonight, they'll be paying for this match for weeks to come! [Steven Spector picks up Watts, flipping him around... and hitting him with a Tombstone Piledriver! Spector doesn't go for the cover as Watts shudders a few times on the mat, instead getting up and signalling for his finishing move!] SR: Cherry Blossom Bomber! Ya gotta love this move! [Armitage picks up Watts for his finisher, getting him upright in a vertical suplex position before dropping him down to the mat with a power bomb! But Watts kicks his feet in mid-air, and Spector's arm can't support the resistance and gives out! Watts falls on top of Steve Spector for the pin! The count: 1 -- 2...] TD: NO!! Spector kicked out! Spector kicked out! That was the end for sure! Incredible!! [Obviously Watts was expecting the pinfall here as the look of disappointment is dominating his expression right now. Spector is lying on the mat, clutching his arm. The Iconoclast quickly gets back to action, in the perfect position for...] TD: Fujiwara Armbar! He's got the Fujiwara Armbar locked on! That's it! [Spector quickly taps out as the hold would easily break his already injured arm should it have been locked on for a few more seconds. The bell rings, signalling the win for "Iconoclast" Sean Watts, the crowd erupting loudly!] SL: The winner of the match by submission, advancing to the King of the Cruisers Final at Birthday Bash, he is the "Iconoclast" Sean Watts! [Watts immediately releases the hold, lying down on the mat in exhaustion. Spector shakes his head, knowing that he was only a fraction of a second away from winning the match, but realising that his arm was in too bad of a shape to remain in the Fujiwara Arm Bar for long. The crowd continues to cheer as both men simply lay down on the mat, unable to move. The referee grabs Watts by the arm, helping him up and raises his arm to the crowd in victory. Watts looks down at Spector and extends an arm which Armitage takes, pulling him up to his feet. Watts and Spector just exchange a long look, an acknowledgement of some sort, and go their own ways.] TD: What a great match, Steve! These men gave everything they had, everything they didn't even have, and then gave some more! Neither of these men are cheered by the fans, but the cheers are being heard loudly right now! "Iconoclast" Sean Watts has won this one, but we all know that it could've gone any way at this point. It was just a matter of who got the last move on. SR: So it's Sean Watts who moves on to Birthday Bash. This kid's real good. But I think he's over his head here. Has he ever headlined a PPV before? Millions of people are gonna be watchin' him, Dross. They're EXPECTING him to make it far. Can this "loser" pull through? TD: I guess we'll find out, won't we? But I think that this image of Watts is being put to the test here. He's certainly not acting like a loser so far in this tournament! But neither is Spector, who unfortunately had to lose this one, but certainly displayed to the crowd that he's one of the top cruiserweights in the world today. SR: One of the top four, at least. TD: One of the top four. So next week we see "Playboy" Ronnie D taking on Big Greggy Cool in the second semi final match to see who will be facing Watts at Birthday Bash. It should be another great one! Steve, shouldn't you do another plug for the PPV here? SR: Bite me. [As Dross prepares to speak, the camera pick up Chris Staley making his way through the crowd and into a ringside seat.] TD: Our next match promises to be a vicious battle -- these are some of the nastiest men in the sport, Steve Roberts! And apparently Chris Staley wants a good look at these men. SR: Three bloodthirsty savages -- and Charles Scheffield. I'm not sure if this is a match or a question on the SAT -- "Pick the one that doesn't belong". TD: It's certainly true that the blue-blooded Charles Scheffield will probably be at a disadvantage in this no-DQ match -- but his partner should make up for that. SR: Not a chance, Dross. Yeah, Serge Annis is a nasty, nasty man. But Musashi and Tiger Claw are two guys that would rip the head off their own grandmother just for wearing the wrong shade of blue hair. And Tiger Claw has a score to settle with Annis, don't forget. He hasn't forgotten the battles with Genesis, and Sergey is the last Culture Clubber standing. This is his chance to get some payback. TD: That's not quite true, Steve. Even if he was a reluctant member, Icehawk was certainly part of Genesis -- and he is not only still an IIWF wrestler, he's a champion. SR: Nope. Icehawk has left the IIWF to avoid getting killed by Derek Mota. He's joining a diving expedition. TD: A diving expedition? SR: Yep. They are going to dive in Lake Superior and try to raise the lifeless form of his tag-team partner. TD: [sighing] Let's go to the ring. ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| Serge Annis & Charles Scheffield vs. |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| "Enigma" Takezo Musashi & Tiger Claw ....................................................................... WRITER: Dave Hogg [In the ring, Sparkplug Lee has just done a lovely spin, showing the crowd his fancy neon-green tuxedo. Sadly, while doing so, he also wrapped the mic cord around his neck, so the first things we hear from him consist mainly of a choked gurgle. After several frantic moments, referee Dave D'Amato saves Sparky, unwrapping the cord, and allowing him to announce the match.] SL: The following contest is set for one fall -- with a 25-minute time limit! The first team -- from Canada, Serge Annis! And from Connecticut, Charles Scheffield! [Annis comes through the curtains alone, carrying his barbed-wire chair like a baby. As he appears, the arena lights go down, and he makes his way to the ring bathed in a crimson spotlight. When he reaches the squared circle, he holds his arms out in a cross position, then slams his hands down. To the surprise (and glee) of the fans, the ringposts explode into five-foot pillars of flame. Pop!] TD: The fire is back! Serge Annis is off probation! SR: Yes! It's time for some good old-fashioned blood! [Almost unnoticed in all of this is Charles Scheffield, who has quietly made his way to ringside. He simply climbs into the ring, and waits in the corner while Sparky gets back to work.] SL: Their opponents are both former title-holders -- "The Enigma", Takezo Musashi and Tiger Claw! [As Musashi's music strikes up, the two men come through the curtain. Immediately, the crowd breaks into a thundering chant of "YOU SOLD OUT!" -- something that neither man even seems to notice. They make their way to the ring, both seemingly unaware of anything happening around them. But that focus is disturbed as they get to ringside -- thanks to a clumsy but effective plancha by the massive Annis -- and his chair. Pop!] TD: Serge Annis just threw himself over the top rope and onto his opponents, Steve Roberts! And used that barb-wired chair as a battering ram! SR: It's Bowling for Haitians! TD: Japanese, Steve. He's Japanese. SR: Serge Annis is Japanese?! Damn, he's the biggest Jap I've ever seen! TD: Never mind. [Annis's plancha sent all three men bouncing across the concrete, but before he can take advantage, his quicker opponents are on him. Both men attack the prone Canadian with vicious kicks -- almost in a savage competition of who can cause the most damage with their feet. Annis is only saved from being destroyed by the intervention of a reluctant Scheffield, who grabs Tiger Claw and throws him into the ring. Scheffield follows him in, allowing something like a match to start.] TD: Charles Scheffield is the only man out here who is interested in wrestling a match -- the other three just want to kill someone! SR: You say that like it is a bad thing, Dross. [Scheffield tries to lock up with Tiger Claw, but the smaller man drops him with a vicious kick to the... well, lower abdomen. As Charles writhes on the mat, Tiger Claw stands over him, laughing. But the laugh quickly dies as Scheffield reaches out a fist and drives it into Claw's... well, lower abdomen again.] SR: Hey! The snob is learning! TD: It's sad to see a great technical wrestler forced to resort to tactics like that, Steve Roberts. SR: Are you kidding, Dross? That's the first interesting thing Scheffield has done since he joined the IIWF. [Scheffield takes advantage of Claw's discomfort to hook in a twisting leglock, which he helps by grabbing the top rope with his free hand. D'Amato counts to five, but Scheffield simply ignores him.] SR: This kid's a quick learner. He might not be totally hopeless after all. [The crowd's yelling rises a notch, but unfortunately for Scheffield, he thinks it is for his hold. Actually, they are screaming at him to turn around, as Musashi has sent Annis flying into the steel ring steps, and quickly ascended to the top rope. The first time that the Connecticut native has any idea that something is wrong is when the Enigma's missile dropkick connects with the back of his head. Musashi bounces up and attacks the stunned Scheffield while Tiger Claw slowly makes his way to the apron. At about the same time, Annis climbs into his corner, setting things up for what actually appears to be a normal tag match.] TD: That might be the closest thing we get to a tag all night -- but at least we are going to have a real match now. SR: Yeah -- for about another 10 seconds. [Musashi fires a couple more kicks into Scheffield's midsection, then pulls him to his feet and fires him into his corner. The crowd pops as the Enigma signals for Annis to tag in, which the massive Canadian happily does.] TD: Takezo Musashi doesn't want to wrestle Charles Scheffield, he wants Serge Annis. SR: That's one nutty Norwegian. [Musashi says something that the microphones don't pick up, and Annis charges him. But the Japanese star is much too quick, ducking aside and shoving Serge right into a Tiger Claw palm thrust to the jaw. As Annis staggers back, Musashi lands a spinning kick to his jaw, sending Serge flopping back into his corner.] TD: Musashi and Tiger Claw have never wrestled together, but they look like a fluid team! They are using teamwork to take their opponents apart! [For a long moment, Musashi waits in the centre of the ring, but when Annis remains facedown, his head hanging over the edge of the ring, he advances. And walks right into a chairshot from Annis, who grabs the chair and swings it in one fluid motion.] TD: Annis was playing possum! And he just busted Musashi out with that chair! SR: That's not a surprise, Dross. That chair is covered in barbed wire! [Annis picks up the Enigma, flings him into the far ropes, and catches him with a powerslam onto the barbed-wire chair. Huge pop as the stoic Japanese stars screams in pain. Again Annis scoops Musashi up -- but this time, whatever he has planned is interrupted by Tiger Claw's vicious kick to the back of his left knee. Serge drops his opponent and grabs at his knee -- but not before it absorbs the impact of a nasty round kick from Claw. The knee buckles, but before the Canadian can go down, Tiger Claw snaps off a high-impact kick to the point of his jaw. That sends Annis stumbling through the ropes and to the floor. Heel pop!] TD: Once again, Tiger Claw and Musashi are wrestling as a team! Their martial-arts skill is dominating the match! [Tiger Claw, though, abandons his usual ground-based Muay Thai style, and flies over the top rope onto Annis with a picture-perfect tope suicida. The impact sends Annis crashing into the barriers yet again. In the meantime, Scheffield has come into the ring, and is trying to take advantage of the damage Annis inflicted on Musashi.] TD: German suplex by Scheffield! Musashi's in a lot of trouble here! SR: This is where the little guys are going to lose it. Tiger Claw is so worried about beating Annis to a pulp that he isn't there to save his partner! TD: Scheffield is going for the Fieldplex! He's got the crossface chickenwing hooked! This will end it! NO!! [Somehow, someway, Musashi slips out of the chickenwing in mid-air, and ends up doing a backflip out of the suplex. Before a startled Scheffield can react, Musashi scoops him up into a devastating backdrop driver. In the blink of an eye, he is on the top rope. With Annis and Tiger Claw engaged in their private war outside the ring, there is no one to stop the Enigma from taking flight.] TD: Starsault Press! Dave D'Amato is in position -- one... two... THREE!! He got him! [The bell rings, and Sparkplug is instantly on the mic:] SL: Your winner via pinfall -- the team of Tiger Claw and Takezo Musashi! [The sound of Sparkplug's voice cuts through the red mist that has surrounded the brains of Tiger Claw and Serge Annis, and they finally break off their battle and return to the ring. Annis glares at his partner, who gets right in his face, asking where the hell he was. Annis looks like he is about to flatten Scheffield, but thinks better of it, and spins away to head back to the dressing room. His partner follows at some distance, leaving the winners in the ring. Tiger Claw shakes Musashi's hand, then lifts it in victory... then lays him out with a spinning round kick to the jaw. Before Musashi can even blink, Tiger Claw is all over him with a blinding attack that leaves the Enigma crumpled in the center of the ring. Huge confused pop!] TD: What in the world is Tiger Claw doing? He just attacked the man who paid him for this! SR: This is great! [The fans are stunned as Claw stands over Musashi, a cruel sneer on his face. He walks over to the apron and calls for a microphone, which one of the attendants hands him.] TC: After all I said about loyalty and friendship last night, I bet you're all wondering how I could do this. After I went on television last night, and talked about how I could never betray a friend, you're probably thinking that it all meant nothing. That I lied. Well, you're wrong. Musashi, you paid me to attack Kowalski. You paid me to help you with Annis. I came through with my end of the bargain, and I helped you for the last two weeks. You never paid me for this match tonight, but I did it anyway because of my loyalty to a friend... and Musashi, that friend isn't you. [Heel pop! Claw walks out of the ring to the timekeeper's table as he speaks.] TC: That friend is an old enemy of yours... in fact, before he was my friend, he was an old enemy of mine as well. You... up... _now_. [These last three words are spoken to the timekeeper, who, after seeing the look on Claw's face, quickly gets out of his chair, which Claw folds up and grabs. Claw then turns back to Musashi, re-entering the ring.] TC: You know who I'm talking about. If not, all you have to do is think back, and consider your finisher... the Starsault Press. Do you know now, Musashi? Do you know who I speak of? Of course you do. That man... is my friend. He asked me for one thing... and that thing is this... [Claw winds up, and clocks Musashi in the head with the chair, drawing a huge gasp from the crowd. Claw looks to the fans and grins, an intense look in his eyes.] TC: With that done, there's something more I have to cover... oh, there's much more. And you're going to be witness to it. Over half a year ago, I left the IIWF. There was a sickness here. A sickness neither I nor anyone else could cure. It was like a cancer, eating away at all the organisation was... its very being. I left along with several friends to continue on elsewhere... because it was useless to stay just to contract the sickness ourselves... we would have withered away, because the cancer was strong. We had to cut our losses. Then... the cancer was removed. But the after-effects remain. Like any cancer, it tries to spread as quickly as it can, to make complete removal more difficult. I came back to the IIWF for the King of the Cruisers tournament in order to see how things were from the inside... if they were different from how things seem on the outside... and they are worse. Much worse. I'm standing in this ring as the man who remembers why the IIWF was voted the best, and who can return the IIWF to that glory. I'm going to take make the IIWF clean... the way that only I can. I'm going to rule... with an iron fist. [The crowd begins throwing paper cups into the ring, and Claw's face twists into a sinister grin. He turns to Musashi... his voice, which during the segment went from a calm tone to a growl, reaches a roar.] TC: YOU WANT CLAW?! YOU WANT CLAW?! You gonna GET Claw! [The crowd begins to get a bit rowdy, and the objects flying into the ring start to obscure the camera shot. Claw climbs to the second turnbuckle, looking much like a fanatic evangelist as he speaks.] TC: And NOBODY can stop me! Nobody is safe from my wrath! Your top contenders aren't safe! Your CHAMPION is not safe! Not even your PRESIDENT is safe! Not even you, the fans, are safe from a man who strives to get what he wants, a man like ME! Look to the ring! Look upon the future of your sport! Look upon the man who will lead you out of the darkness, and bring the IIWF to a NEW light! Cast your eyes upon your saviour... [Claw pounds his chest with a fist to accent each word...] ...FOR I AM HE! [The crowd is livid... and Claw outstretches his arms, closes his eyes and looks to the sky, almost as if he were gaining strength from the heel pop itself. And his eyes are still closed when Takezo Musashi springs from the canvas into a savate kick that snaps his head back like it was on a swivel.] TD: Oh my! What a kick from Musashi! [For the first time in recent memory, the fans cheer the Enigma as he and Tiger Claw attack each other with blinding speed and fury. The two men, perhaps the most dangerous men to ever compete in the IIWF, throw kicks and chops that would kill an ordinary man... but none of them connect. The two men are too evenly matched -- perfect counterparts to the other one's skills. And before either can adjust, they are swarmed by security and the Jobber Justice Squad -- leaving the question unanswered.] TD: Oh my, Steve Roberts! I'm having difficulty taking in everything that's happened here tonight -- Tiger Claw is back in the IIWF? And he's turned his back on Musashi! This is crazy! SR: I don't get it, Dross. You know what they say: united we stand, divided we fall. Musashi and Claw could have been an unstoppable partnership... but there's just no way Musashi is going to let this one go, Dross. No way in hell. TD: I'm sure you're right, Steve Roberts. Folks, we'll try and get more on this situation in Tuesday's edition of "Inside the IIWF" -- but right now, it's time for comments from the IIWF President, who has some major announcements concerning Birthday Bash, which is just two weeks away. If you'll excuse me, Steve. SR: Be my guest, Dross. Damn, I can't believe Claw did that. [Dross stands and removes his headset, heading up into the ring via the timekeeper's table, where he collects a cordless microphone. The fans begin to settle as the veteran announcer takes his place in the centre of the ring and raises the microphone to his lips:] TD: Ladies and gentlemen, we are now just two weeks away from the IIWF's second birthday! [Big pop from the loyal hometown faithful!] TD: And as you know, we will be celebrating in style, right here in the IIWF Coliseum! [Another big pop, and a chant of, "I-I-W-F! I-I-W-F!" breaks out in the stands.] TD: My guest at this time has a number of further announcements concerning Birthday Bash. Would you please join me in welcoming the IIWF President himself, Mr. Daniel Spreadbury! [Polite applause mixed with jeers as Sting's "Jeremiah Blues (Part One)" kicks in over the PA system and the bespectacled IIWF President steps out into the ring, unusually not flanked by security officials. He makes his way down the aisle, nodding to those fans who actually say something in support of him, and makes his way directly into the ring. As the music fades, he stands alongside Dross, and pushes his spectacles up his nose.] TD: Mr. President, it has without a doubt been an incredible night of action here in the IIWF Coliseum tonight -- and we can look forward to more of the same in two weeks at Birthday Bash. But before we talk about that great event, do you have an update on the condition of Mr. Tsuburaya, who was so brutally attacked by the Machines earlier tonight? [A big mixed pop rises from the fans at the mention of the Machines.] DS: Mr. Tsuburaya is in serious but stable condition at the ICU of Portland General Hospital. Our thoughts and prayers go out to him and his family. As for the Machines themselves, I was set to suspend them indefinitely pending dismissal following their actions tonight... [Big heel pop!] ...but after consultation with the manager of the Fabulous Ones, Ms. Miki, over the phone from the Hospital, I have decided to pursue an alternative course of action. The Fabulous Ones want the chance to settle this dispute once and for all in the time-honoured tradition: in the ring. [Big pop!] Thus, the match between the Machines and the Fabulous Ones at Birthday Bash _will_ go ahead. It will be the absolute last time these two teams clash in the IIWF, whether it be in the ring, or out of it... and I have taken measures to ensure that this is the case. TD: What kind of measures, Mr. President? DS: The "War To Settle The Score" between the Fabulous Ones and the Machines at Birthday Bash... will be a LOSER LEAVES TOWN match! [Big pop!] TD: A loser leaves town match? DS: That's right, Tim. Either the Machines or the Fabulous Ones will wrestle their last IIWF match right here in the Coliseum in two weeks. And that's final. [The cheers from the fans continue.] TD: Okay, Mr. President, I understand you have some other announcements concerning Birthday Bash. DS: Indeed I do, Tim. I can announce that after backstage discussion tonight, another match has been added to the card. "To Excess" Rick Williams will do battle with Steve Sampson... [A chant of "SAMP-SON! SAMP-SON!" rises from the Portland crowd. Spreadbury pauses briefly.] Rick Williams will do battle with Steve Sampson... in a TOWEL MATCH! [Big pop from the fans! Spreadbury nods.] Both of these men are tremendous ring technicians, and these stipulations will allow them to wrestle a clean match, without fear of back-jumping... since both men will have a corner man of his choice. Steve Sampson has selected Robert Donovan as his corner man, and Rick Williams will be seconded by Derek Mota. This match will continue until one corner man throws his towel into the ring. TD: A towel match between Rick Williams and Steve Sampson! What a huge addition to the card! Now, Mr. President, you announced at the top of tonight's show that the main event at Birthday Bash would be officiated by a special guest referee... but declined to comment just who that referee would be. DS: Before you ask, Tim, no, I'm not about to tell you. All I will say is that you will never have seen a referee like this before. TD: Anything further to add, Mr. President? DS: Not right now, Tim. I'm sure there will be plenty of further repercussions after everything we've seen tonight. Thanks very much for your attention, ladies and gentlemen, and enjoy tonight's main event. [Sting's "Jeremiah Blues (Part One)" kicks in over the PA once more as the IIWF President waves to the crowd before leaving the ring and heading up the aisle. As he departs, the jumbotron displays a series of graphics pertaining to the upcoming pay-per-view lineup:] Main Event: IIWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: Steve "the Fury" Kowalski vs. Serge Annis plus special guest referee IIWF INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT FINAL: Marty Warnett vs. ? IIWF CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: Icehawk vs. Derek Mota IIWF WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: Team Sychosys vs. Prophets of Rage IIWF KING OF THE CRUISERS TOURNAMENT FINAL: "Iconoclast" Sean Watts vs. ? "SPIN THE WHEEL, MAKE THE DEAL" MATCH: Black Watch vs. Gunnar "Grizzly" Gaines & Caleb Temple STEEL CAGE MATCH: Deathbringer vs. "Vagabond" Chris Staley LOSER LEAVES TOWN MATCH: The Machines vs. Fabulous Ones "IT'S FUN TO BE UNEMPLOYED" FAREWELL TOUR MATCH: Down Boys vs. Natural Predators TOWEL MATCH: "To Excess" Rick Williams (with Derek Mota) vs. Steve Sampson (with Robert Donovan) MEATMAN CHALLENGE: Jimmy "the Meatman" Steele vs. Valtharius the Mad TEXAS DEATH TORNADO MATCH: Night Patrol vs. American Dragons [Cut back to the broadcast table as Tim Dross rejoins "Soundbite" Steve Roberts, donning his headset once more.] TD: There you have it folks -- the line-up for the IIWF's next huge pay-per-view spectacular, coming your way in just two weeks! Call your local cable operator right now to be a part of this history-making event. SR: Aw, enough of the shill already, Dross. Let's see the Fury kick some dead man ass! TD: Okay, folks, hold onto your hats -- here comes tonight's main event! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __|.................................................. | || | \ v v / | __| IIWF WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH: |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| Steve "the Fury" Kowalski [c] vs. Deathbringer ....................................................................... WRITER: Shawn Kilpatrick [Sparkplug Lee climbs into the ring, nimbly dodging a flying can of Mooselips flung by a clearly inebriated Fury at ringside who bellows "YOU SOLD OU... oh hey, sorry, man..." before security pounces on him and promptly drags him through the crowd to the exit. Lee arches an eyebrow at the offending fan, and makes a point of haughtily drawing the lineup card from the main event from his pocket, before raising the mic and having it suddenly jerked out of his hand, due to the fact that he's standing on the cord. The mic falls to the mat with a loud, reverberating THUNK that has the crowd in hysterics as Lee frantically scrambles to recover the mic.] TD: Good grief. SR: Dross, the only way that guy could sell out is if the Ringling Brothers Circus needed more clowns to pack into that little car. SL: Ahem... ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is your MAIN EVENT of the evening! [Big pop from the fans, especially the rowdy gathering of Furies at ringside.] SL: This contest is scheduled for one fall, and is for the IIWF World Heavyweight Title! [Another big pop!] SL: Introducing first, the challenger! Weighing in at a colossal 324 pounds, and hailing from the "Dark Side", here is the self-proclaimed "Dark Destroyer", here is... DEATHBRINGER! [A huge pop erupts from the sold-out Coliseum crowd as "Scythe, Rage and Rose" by Dark Tranquillity echoes eerily throughout the cavernous arena, and the curtain at the head of the aisle parts to reveal the cowled, black-clad Deathbringer, his red eyes glowing from underneath his mask as he indulges in a rare walk-down for the benefit of the fans. The big man is unaccompanied, the Blind Guardian not appearing with him as he has in the past, and the ice-cold countenance of the Deathbringer betrays just a hint of a confident swagger as he begins the trek down to ringside.] TD: The always-imposing Deathbringer, on his way to what could possibly be a second IIWF World title. This man has been on an absolute tear as of late, Steve Roberts, and you have to think that Steve Kowalski, even if he were perfectly healthy, would be facing his toughest challenge to date in the form of the Dark Destroyer! SR: No doubt about it, Dross-man, the 'Bringer's been turning on the juice in the last few weeks. The Fury's gonna have his hands full with the big man tonight, but the story's still the same -- the Fury hits the Skullpump, and it's all over, baby blue. TD: You know, Steve, I had my hands full once... SR: Give it up, Dross. Just 'cause you're holding a '62 Fender Stratocaster, that don't make you Jimi Hendrix, dig? You gotta... what the hell...? TD: IT'S CHRIS STALEY! He's in the aisle! [The crowd pops wildly as "Vagabond" Chris Staley, from out of the crowd near the entranceway, suddenly vaults the crowd barrier, grabs a steel chair from the aisle, and rushes up behind the unsuspecting Deathbringer, driving the chair into the back of the big man's head! Pop! Deathbringer is silent as he collapses to his hands and knees on the concrete floor, and the furious Staley lays in with a flurry of kicks to the Dark Destroyer's ribs before raising the chair and bringing it down across the 'Bringer's back!] TD: Staley is incensed! He is absolutely bent on annihilating the Deathbringer! SR: He ain't doin' a bad job so far, either, Dross! Look at the rookie go! [Staley lets the chair bounce away after smashing it across Deathbringer's broad back then takes a few steps back before measuring the big man and rushing at him at full speed, sending Deathbringer reeling into the steel aisle barrier with a knee lift to the throat! Big pop!] TD: Staley is on fire, and the Deathbringer has not been able to fight back! SR: Careful, rook, the dead guy's been around the block a few times... [As if on cue, the crowd pops in surprise and confusion as from behind the curtain, _two more_ Deathbringers suddenly appear, rushing down to the middle of the ring where Staley is still hammering away at the real Deathbringer!] TD: What the... there's THREE 'Bringers out there! [The two "mini-Deathbringers", for both of them only stand no higher than 6' 8", charge up behind Staley, who does not see them approach, and yank him roughly off of the downed Dark Destroyer! One mini-Bringer pins Staley's arms back with a full nelson, as the other mini-Bringer drives a big boot into the "Vagabond's" solar plexus, then crushing him to the concrete with a devastating double axehandle to the back of the head! Huge pop!] TD: These... these bogus-Bringers have got young Staley in a real fix now! SR: And look who's decided to join the party, Dross! [Another big pop rises from the crowd, as Deathbringer suddenly rises up from the floor, and slowly stands, glaring down at the gasping Staley with his eerie red eyes! The two mini-Bringers back off, as the Dark Destroyer reaches down, seizes Staley by the throat, and with an astonishing display of power, jerks the "Vagabond' up until he is only supporting himself by the tips of his toes!] TD: Incredible! Deathbringer just shook off that attack from Staley like it was nothing! SR: Forget "Scream 2", Dross -- _this_ stuff gives me the creeps. All I need now is Becky curling her leg over my thigh and reaching into my empty popcorn bag... [Incredible pop from the crowd, as Deathbringer suddenly heaves Staley into the air and slams him into the floor with a chokeslam! Staley writhes on the floor, clutching at his throat, as the big man reaches down again, scooping the "Vagabond" up once more, and Staley can offer little resistance as the Deathbringer spins him around and _plants_ him head-first into the concrete with the Burial! Huge pop!] TD: Deathbringer with the Burial, and Staley is out! SR: You'd think the kid would wise up, Dross. Every time he takes on the dead man, he gets pasted. He obviously has a hunger for pain _and_ public humiliation... [Deathbringer stares down at the motionless Staley for a moment, then turns away as if nothing had happened, and continues down to the ring to a big pop, flanked by the two smaller Deathbringers. The mini-Bringers take up positions on either side of the aisle as the massive man climbs into the ring, and turns to await the entrance of the champion.] SL: And now, ladies and gentlemen, introducing the champion... [HUGE Fury pop!] SL: He hails from Newark, New Jersey, and weighs in at 268 pounds, he is the "New Jersey Nightmare", and your IIWF World Heavyweight Champion! Here is... STEVE "THE FURY" KOWALSKI! [The crowd's tumultuous pop threatens to tear the roof off of the IIWF Coliseum, and the audience suddenly turns into a sea of waving foam Fury fingers as "Don't Fear The Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult blasts from the P.A., and the curtains across the entranceway part to reveal the IIWF Champion, Steve Kowalski, standing at the head of the aisle! Kowalski quite literally looks like death warmed over, his hair wet and slicked down on his head, dark circles under his eyes, and his posture suggests someone who is uncomfortable with just standing on two feet. Still, the sound of the crowd cheering seems to invigorate the champion, and the sly smile returns to the face of the Fury as he slowly limps down the aisle towards the ring, stepping cautiously around the prone, unconscious form of Chris Staley in the aisle, who is being attended by an EMT crew. As Kowalski passes by the throng of Furies near the ring, the air is suddenly filled with flying cans of Mooselips, as the Fury's loyal followers pave his way to the ring once again! Kowalski crunches several cans underfoot as he reaches the ring and, with a noticeable effort, climbs up onto the apron and steps through the ropes, stepping forward to square off against the massive bulk of the Deathbringer as the Fury pop reaches fever pitch.] SR: How sweet it is, baby dolls! The greatest champion in the history of the Double Eye, right there! TD: Indeed, there has never been a champion with more intestinal fortitude than that man, Steve Roberts. But still, one has to wonder just when Steve Kowalski will break down! He has endured more punishment in the defence of the IIWF Heavyweight Title than any man has experienced thus far, and he keeps getting up and wrestling week after week! The mere fact that that man is in this building wrestling tonight is a miracle in itself! [Referee Earl Alfonso moves over to check Kowalski's boots, and satisfied that all is in order, calls for the timekeeper to ring the bell to start the match -- Ding! Ding! Ding!] TD: Here we go, folks! This match may well be the most serious threat to Steve Kowalski's reign as IIWF Champion yet, as he now squares off against the monstrous Deathbringer! [Deathbringer and Kowalski circle, the champion plainly favouring his right side as the two watch each other like hawks, waiting for a opening. Suddenly, Deathbringer lunges at Kowalski, and the Fury barely has time to sidestep the move and drive a knee into Deathbringer's abdomen! Pop! As the big man doubles over, Kowalski immediately ruses in and underhooks Deathbringer's arms! Wild pop from the Furies!] TD: He's going for the Skullpump! SR: Already? What the hell is he doing? [Kowalski heaves up on Deathbringer's arms, but the big man is far too powerful, and the champion soon finds himself hanging over the 'Bringer's right shoulder! Immediately, Deathbringer drops to his knees, taking the wind out of Kowalski with a modified stomach breaker! Heel pop!] TD: Kowalski was far too premature in going for that Skullpump, Steve Roberts. I can't understand why he would even attempt that move so early in the match! SR: It's obvious, Dross -- the Fury's runnin' on empty! Physically, he's at the end of his rope, and the only thing he's got going for him now is the Skullpump! If he hits it, he wins -- if he survives long enough! TD: You may be right, Steve, but you have to think... hold on, what's this? [As Deathbringer picks up Kowalski and easily tosses him across the ring with a big bodyslam, the camera cuts to ringside, where Serge Annis can be seen striding down to ringside! Annis has changed from his wrestling gear to only black jeans and boots, and glares at the two figures in the ring as he reaches ringside, taking up a position near the broadcast table. The two mini-Bringers start to move towards Annis, but the huge Canadian reaches for a steel chair, and holds it threateningly over his shoulder as he fixes Deathbringer's companions with an equally threatening stare. The 'Bringers back off, and resume their positions around the ring, as Annis turns his attention back to the action.] TD: Well, now we have Serge Annis standing by here at ringside, and one can only speculate what he's doing here, Steve Roberts. Earlier tonight, we saw Annis get Skullpumped by Steve Kowalski, but he may also be looking for revenge on Deathbringer for his interference in his match against Charles Scheffield last week. SR: Or maybe Sergie felt like he hasn't been kissin' enough corporate ass lately, so he's come back to "save the IIWF" for another week by playing sheriff. TD: At any rate, Annis seems to be content to watch the action in the ring, so let's go back up to the match! [Back in the ring, Kowalski is picking himself up from a second bodyslam by Deathbringer, who quickly moves over to the champion, scoops him up, and sends him into the ropes. On the rebound, Deathbringer merely tosses Kowalski straight up into the air, and the Fury drops what must be a full fifteen feet back to the canvas, landing with a sickening thud! Heel pop! Deathbringer falls on top of Kowalski, and Earl Alfonso moves in for the count -- 1 -- 2 -- kickout! Pop!] TD: Only two! SR: C'mon, Fury! [Deathbringer gives no reaction to the close near-pin, and responds only by locking his vice-like hands around the skull of Steve Kowalski, and bearing down with all his inhuman strength! The crowd jeers Deathbringer as Kowalski kicks his legs against the mat from the agony of the hold!] TD: Deathbringer has the Death Claw on Kowalski! SR: Jesus, Dross, the guy's got a concussion! This has got to be pure hell for the Fury! [Kowalski tries frantically to pry Deathbringrs hands loose, but the 'Bringer just brings more pressure to bear, and the champion's hands fall away from his head, pain shooting through his temples. Alfonso moves in to check for the submission, but Kowalski answers with an agonised "NO!" to a huge pop from the Furies!] TD: Deathbringer is bearing down on Steve Kowalski's skull with all his strength and weight behind that Death Claw! How long can the champ hold out? SR: Until his brains come squirting out of his ears! C'mon, Fury! [Suddenly, Kowalski coils like a cat on the mat, and manages to get his legs scissored around the Deathbringer's head! Kowalski screams as he tightens his grip around the 'Bringer's throat, and with a loud bellow, pulls him off, breaking the hold! Incredible pop!] TD: He broke the clawhold! SR: Yeah, but look at the Fury, Dross! He's barely moving! [Steve Kowalski lies on the canvas, clutching his head in his hands, as the throbbing pain rages through his skull. Deathbringer, silent as ever, rises to his feet and steps over to the prone champ, and drops a heavy elbow right across the forehead of the Fury, sending him bouncing across the mat! Heel pop!] TD: This is terrible! Steve Kowalski has been unable to mount any offence in this match thus far, and now it looks like he doesn't even know where he is! [Deathbringer scoops up the stunned Fury, sends him into the ropes, and prepared for a back body drop, but as the big man bends low, Kowalski suddenly puts on the brakes, and goes for Deathbringer's arms! Incredible pop!] TD: He's going for another Skullpump! [This time, Kowalski doesn't even manage to get the arms hooked before Deathbringer clinches Kowalski about the waist, and runs him into the corner with an avalanche, crushing Kowalski into the turnbuckles! The crowd jeers as Deathbringer steps back, and Kowalski collapses out of the corner to the mat!] SR: Ah, this is just sad, Dross. Kowalski can't match up to the dead man, not in this condition! 'Bringer's just having his way with him! [Deathbringer goes for the pin once again, and Alfonso rushes in for the count -- 1 -- 2...] TD: THREE! SR: No, Dross! Kowalski got his foot on the rope! How the hell did he have the presence of mind to do that? [Alfonso waves off the three-count, pointing out to Deathbringer the champ's foot clearly resting on the bottom rope. Deathbringer just stares at Alfonso for long moments, the official backing away uneasily form the giant's chilling gaze, and then the 'Bringer wraps his huge hand around the throat of Steve Kowalski, and jerks him to his feet! The crowd's heel popping quickly turns to astonished gasps, as Deathbringer heaves the champion into the air by the throat, and drives him back down into the mat with a high-impact chokeslam!] TD: Oh my goodness! Deathbringer planted Kowalski with that chokeslam, and Kowalski didn't even try to escape it! The Fury is in a bad, bad way, Steve Roberts! SR: This is just gettin' out of hand now, Dross! I got as much faith in the Fury as anyone, but goddammit, he's gonna get killed if this kind of crap keeps up! [Deathbringer goes for the cover again -- 1 -- 2 -- Kowalski drives a shoulder up! Incredible pop!] TD: He kicked out! SR: He ain't gonna give up, Dross. Not as long as he's breathing. A few more matches like this one, and that just might happen! [Deathbringer grabs Kowalski by the throat, pulls him up into a sitting position, and then just slams the back of his head into the canvas! Alfonso is still on the mat, and Deathbringer motions to him to count the pin again! Alfonso shakes his head, and applies the count -- 1 -- 2 -- Kowalski kicks out again! Colossal pop! This time, Deathbringer pulls Kowalski to his feet, sends him into the ropes, and the big man dashes to the opposite side, coming off the ropes with a huge flying clothesline that sends Kowalski cartwheeling end over end, and pinwheeling head-first into the mat!] TD: That was the Scythe! SR: That move nearly took the Fury's head off! I can't believe he's still conscious! [Deathbringer goes for the cover again, and Alfonso dives across the canvas for the count -- 1 -- 2 -- Kowalski just barely manages to kick out again! The crowd is on its feet, cheering as Kowalski refuses to stay down!] TD: Kowalski's still alive -- but just barely! Alfonso's counts are getting longer and longer with every pin! SR: I hate to say it, Dross, but maybe the Fury should just stay down next time. The IIWF World Title's no damn good to Kowalski if he's gonna be driving around in a breath-controlled wheelchair for the rest of his life. [Deathbringer rises to his feet, stares down at the prone champion almost disbelievingly, then methodically goes about his work again, this time pulling Kowalski up and clutching him belly-to-belly, setting up for...] TD: It looks like the 'Bringer's going for a Tombstone piledriver now! SR: He ain't even fighting back, Dross. It's just a matter of time now... [However, as Deathbringer prepares to flip Kowalski upside down, the Fury suddenly digs his heels in, cinches his arms around the Dark Destroyer's waist, and heaves the 324-pounder up into the air! Incredible pop!] TD: Kowalski hits a Northern Lights Suplex! SR: Holy [BLEEP], where did that come from? [The crowd is on its feet once more as Kowalski drives Deathbringer head-first into the canvas, then scrambles to his feet, staggering into the ropes and holding on to keep himself upright! Deathbringer is lying on his back on the canvas, motionless, as the Fury gasps for breath, and then, the big man suddenly sits up! Heel pop! Kowalski has no idea what is transpiring behind him as the Deathbringer suddenly rises to his feet, and rushes at the champion from behind!] SR: Look out, Fury! [The pop from the crowd alerts Kowalski to the danger, but he is too worn out to dash away from the ropes, so instead, he drops to the canvas, just as Deathbringer flies in with another attempted Scythe! The surprised 'Bringer suddenly finds himself without a target, and he lands throat-first on the top rope, snapping back into the ring! Huge pop!] TD: Deathbringer missed, and now both men are down! [Kowalski slowly climbs the ropes, dragging himself to his feet once more, and looks down where the Deathbringer lies motionless on the canvas, and begins to stumble along the ropes towards the nearest corner! Big pop from the fans as, incredibly, Kowalski begins to slowly climb up the turnbuckles!] TD: He can't be... he's going to attempt a moonsault! SR: What the hell is he thinking? [Suddenly, Deathbringer sits up again, and looks over to the corner, where Kowalski has nearly reached the top turnbuckle, and rises to his feet. The fans scream warnings to Kowalski, who is too out of it to acknowledge their shouts, and is defenceless as Deathbringer charges into the corner and nails the champ with a vicious double axehandle to the back of the head! Heel pop!] TD: Deathbringer completely blindsided the Fury! Kowalski never saw that move coming! [Deathbringer remains in the corner as Kowalski slumps against the pads, and then the big man climbs up the corner himself, seating himself on the top buckle as he reaches down, grabs the nearly-unconscious Fury, and hoists him us as the Deathbringer stands on the second rope!] TD: This is it... Deathbringer's going for the Burial! SR: I can't believe I'm sayin' this, Dross, but... let this be the end! For the Fury's sake, finish it, dead man! [As the heel pop in the Coliseum threatens to deafen the sell-out crowd, Deathbringer spins Kowalski in mid-air up on the ropes, clutches him in an inverted position, and using the ropes for added height, launches himself high into the air, smashing Steve Kowalski's head into the canvas with a resounding BOOM as Deathbringer drives the champion into the mat! Huge pop!] SR: It's over! [Earl Alfonso rushes in as Deathbringer covers Steve "The Fury" Kowalski, the fightingest champion ever in IIWF, and the capacity crowd is on its feet as Earl Alfonso dives in and begins the count that will usher in a new chapter in World Championship history: 1... 2... And the crowd in the Coliseum EXPLODES... ...as Kowalski slides a foot off the apron, stopping the count at two! TD: ONLY TWO! ONLY TWO! Steve Kowalski is hanging on! SR: Only the Fury, Dross. God... I'm chokin' up here... [Deathbringer's burning gaze turns first to Alfonso, who points to Kowalski's foot for the second time in this match, and then the big man pounds the mat, showing frustration for the first time! Kowalski is not moving, and Deathbringer rises to his feet, jerking Kowalski up and sending him roughly into the ropes once more!] TD: Here comes the Scythe again! [On the rebound, though, the crowd erupts with a monstrous pop as Kowalski, suddenly lucid again, anticipates the clothesline with a vicious kick to Deathbringer's midsection! The big man doubles over, and Kowalski, moving on pure instinct, hooks the 'Bringer's arms, grunts, and heaves the 324-pounder into the air! The crowd catches its collective breath as the huge Deathbringer is suddenly upside down in mid-air, seemingly hanging in space for long moments before Kowalski yanks him out of the air and hammers him head-first into to the mat!] TD: SKULLPUMP! SKULLPUMP! HE GOT HIM! SR: Hallelujah, brother! [Pure chaos reigns in the crowd as Kowalski wavers on his feet in front of the unconscious Deathbringer, the chant of "SKULL-PUMP! SKULL-PUMP! SKULL-PUMP!" shaking the rafters as the Fury looks upon his work. Alfonso stands at the ready, waiting for Kowalski to make the pin, and finally, the Fury falls -- but Alfonso stays put, as instead of falling over the Deathbringer for the pin, Kowalski's eyes roll back in his head, and he collapses to the mat in a heap!] TD: He's down! Kowalski has passed out! SR: He used up everything hitting that Skullpump, Dross! The Fury doesn't have an ounce of fight left in him! TD: It's only a matter of time before Deathbringer recovers from that Skullpump, and if the Fury's still out, we will see a new champion! [As Dross speaks, Deathbringer indeed begins to stir, and as his head rolls to one side, he sees Kowalski sprawled on the mat, unconscious. The 'Bringer rolls over and starts to crawl to his feet, but before he can make his way over to Kowalski to apply the pin, he suddenly vanishes from the ring! Big pop!] SR: Where the hell did he go? TD: It's Chris Staley! He pulled Deathbringer out of the ring! [Outside the ring, Deathbringer is reeling as a resurgent Chris Staley, clearly recovered from his run-in with the 'Bringer earlier in the match, is hammering away at the big man with a steel chair. Deathbringer, still feeling the effects of the Skullpump, is having difficulty warding off the chair shots, and Staley bellows with rage as a well-placed chair shot sends the 'Bringer to the concrete, and the "Vagabond" wastes no time in putting the chair across the back of the big man again and again!] TD: Staley is pounding away at the Deathbringer, and here come the big man's companions! [As Staley continues to bludgeon Deathbringer on the outside, the two mini-'Bringers rush to his aid, only to be dropped to the floor from out of nowhere with a huge double clothesline from Serge Annis! Huge pop!] TD: Annis takes out the other 'Bringers! SR: And Staley's still taking the stuffing out of the big boy! Man, that rookie's one cheesed-off little cracker! [As Annis and the mini-'Bringers begin brawling away in the middle of the aisle, Deathbringer slowly rises to his feet underneath Staley's onslaught, and the crowd pops as Deathbringer whips around one of his massive arms and knocks the chair out of the "Vagabond's" grasp! Staley steps back in momentary shock, as Deathbringer stares down at him with his piercing red eyes, then hs featured twist into a mask of hatred and he launched himself at the massive wrestler again, hurling lefts and rights at Deathbringer!] TD: Chris Staley is not backing down! SR: Forget Staley, Dross! Look in the ring! [As the battles rage outside, inside the ring, referee Earl Alfonso is looking down at Steve Kowalski with a genuinely concerned look on his face. Kowalski is still out cold on the mat, and he has unconsciously drawn himself up into a foetal position, his breath coming out in audibly shallow, uneven rags. Alfonso seems uncertain as to what to do, but then remembers that the match is still in progress, and keeping an eye on the prone champion, moves to the ropes and begins counting Deathbringer out!] TD: Alfonso is applying the count to Deathbringer, but the big man seems only concerned with Chris Staley! SR: Who the hell cares, Dross?! Look at the Fury! Screw the match, that man needs medical attention, pronto! [Alfonso's count is much faster than normal, but Deathbringer takes no notice, as he and Staley continue to trade blows, the smaller Staley ducking and weaving to avoid the bigger man's scything roundhouses as he lays into the Dark Destroyer with a furious flurry of kicks and punches, and the count quickly reaches ten! Ding! Ding! Ding!] SL: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, as a result of a countout... and STILL IIWF World Heavyweight Champion, STEVE "THE FURY" KOWALSKI! [As the Jobber Justice Squad races down the aisle to break up the melees between Deathbringer, Staley, Annis, and the mini-'Bringers, "Don't Fear The Reaper" begins to pound from the Coliseum's P.A. once again, but the usual mammoth Fury pop is not to be heard, as the noise in the arena drops to a nervous hush. The JJS drags off Staley, Deathbringer, Annis and the mini-Bringers, leaving only Earl Alfonso in the ring, staring down at the still-unmoving form of the IIWF Champion!] TD: Oh, this is bad, Steve Roberts. Steve Kowalski has not moved for over a minute now. SR: This is a goddamn disgrace, Dross! The Fury should never have been allowed to wrestle tonight! Look at him! All that hot air that Spreadbury was spouting after Ring Wars 5 about being so concerned about wrestlers' safety was a load of crap! [The crowd buzzes with concern, and several voices from the audience cry out "Get up, Fury!" but the champion remains motionless on the canvas. Alfonso attempts to shake Kowalski into life several times, but the Fury does not respond, and the official frantically motions to the timekeeper to call out the EMTs.] SR: He's finished, Dross! They ran him into the [BLEEP]in' ground! I hope all those suits up in that fancy tower of theirs are satisfied! TD: Now, Steve, we can't be certain how serious Kowalski's condition is... SR: What the HELL are you talkin' about, Dross?! You sound like one of those goddamn bean-counters! It's the mother[BLEEP]in' Fury up there! That guy's walked away from more punishment than we dished out to Iraq in the Gulf War. But he sure as hell ain't walkin' now, is he? [The EMT crew hits the ring, and a spinal board is dragged across the canvas beside the prone figure of Steve Kowalski. The medics attempt to roll the Fury onto the board, but suddenly, Kowalski begins jerking uncontrollably as the crew attempts to secure him, and his eyes roll back white in their sockets as his face twists into a frightening, involuntary grimace.] TD: He's convulsing! Oh my goodness... SR: Get him out of here! And Spreadbury, if you're watching this... don't you [BLEEP]in' DARE let that man in that ring again until he's fit! You just might have killed him tonight, you sonofabitch! TD: We're... we're out of time! Folks, this is obviously a terrible situation, and it appears that IIWF Champion Steve "The Fury" Kowalski is in... well, he's in serious physical condition! How serious we have yet to determine, but you can be assured that we will update you on the Fury's status just as soon as we have that information! Watch this Tuesday's "Inside the IIWF" for a full report on tonight's happenings, but until then, for "Soundbite" Steve Roberts, this is Tim Dross, saying... SR: GET HIM OUT OF THERE! NOW! TD: ...so long, everybody! [Cut back to ringside, where the EMTs have finally managed to get Kowalski strapped down to the spinal board, and thy quickly move Kowalski out of the ring and onto a waiting gurney. Kowalski is still unconscious, and as the gurney passes by the camera, we see a thin trickle of greenish bile trickling down the side of his face from the corner of his mouth. The crowd is still and silent as the crew races the Fury up the aisle towards the exit, and the only sound that can be heard in the Coliseum is the siren from the ambulance outside, as it waits to take away the IIWF Champion. 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 -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+