________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| | || | \ v v / | __| |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| ______ ____ ______ _______ ___ _______ ______ \ ____\/ __ \\ ___ \\ _____\\ | / /_____\\ ___ \ | | / / | || | \ \ | | | / / | | | \ \ | |__/_/ | || |__/ / |_____| | / /| |_____| |__/ / | ____/| | || __ /| _____/| |/ / | _____/| __ / | | | | | || | \ \| | | / | | | | \ \ | | | | / /| | \ \ | | / | | | | \ \ | | | |_/ / | | \ \|____ | / | |_____| | \ \ | | \___/ | | \ \____/|/ /______/| | \ \ | / | / \/ | / \/ |/ |/ |/ LIVE! + IIWF Coliseum + Saturday 1 August 1998 + LIVE! H + O + U + R F + O + U + R [You can feel it, can't you? You can feel it in the air the same way you can feel the ground crackle beneath your feet on a frosty late November morning and you can feel it in the air the way you feel your heart lodge in your throat everytime you see that person for whom you would walk to the end of time. You know what it feels like... It's not just anticipation, not just the kind of Christmas morning feeling when you justcan'twait to rip open those presents, that kind of feeling you have before a sporting event every now and again...and even more rarely, a wrestling match, a "this is gonna be fun" edge of your seat sensation that pumps the epinephrine through your body at an alarming, almost actionable rate. This feeling...this feeling is more that a...moment...is about to occur. Maybe not a "great" moment, a moment of technical wizardry, or eclectic brilliance... But instead...a moment to keep forever. Like Neil Armstrong stepping on the moon or the birth of your first daughter, like the day you won the city tennis tournament or the first time another person's body met yours... It is a moment. A moment to keep Forever. And as each and every person in the IIWF Coliseum now stands, as the remnants of the previous match are cleared away, you can feel in the air that each and every person in the IIWF Coliseum is ready for that moment, that moment they will experience together along with every wrestler in the building and every fan sitting at home. They will be a part of the last match in IIWF history. A match to crown the IIWF Champion Forever. A match that will close the books on one of the great virtual enterprises ever known to man. A match that will end the IIWF. You can feel it, can't you?] TD: Well, folks, it is, as they say, time to stop the barkin' and get ready to strap it on up. SR: Ah hell, Dross -- you're not gonna go all Southern on me now are you? Damn baby, we're back in Portland, home of big league pro graps, full contact friction dances and the OBJ, Steve "Soundbite" Roberts, the hardest working man in the Hizz-ouse can I get a witness from the congregation! TD: Always good to share a broadcast table with you, Steve Roberts. SR: Get it while the getting's good, Drossy, an hour from now I am on a plane to Hollywood, Cal-i-forn-i-a where I will be bunking at the palatial mansion of big wheel show bid-ness producer Jerry Bruckheimer and snortin' china white off the perfectly heart-shaped ass of superbimbo Kari Wuhrer and the only time you'll ever see me near a wrestling ring again is when Playgirl Magazine pays me major bank to sit on the top of a turnbuckle buck nekkid eatin' a biscuit the size of a 1958 Buick Roadmaster. TD: Well, we will all look forward to that -- but not perhaps as much as a little thing that is about to happen in this ring right now, Steve Roberts. Thirty men from IIWF past and present, thirty men representing truly the best professional wrestling has ever had to offer are about to step into this wrestling ring to compete for what truly might be...what truly might be, I say without a trace of hyperbole, the greatest prize in the history of sport --- the IIWF Championship Forever. SR: I gotta tell you, Dross, there are a lot of dry mouths and shaky knees in the back right now. We got guys back there who haven't been in a ring in months, guys who no-one has seen in months, we got guys who are wrestling their last match ever in this battle royal. We got guys from different eras, guys from different factions, guys who used to hold IIWF gold and guys who would walk over the gasping bodies of their dying grandmothers just for the opportunity to touch the Big Strap. You know, Dross...I touched the.... TD: You were saying? SR: Later, baby dolls. Make 'em wait. TD: Boy, I will tell you what, the atmosphere here is so electric, almost indescribably so as this last IIWF match is now mere moments from getting underway. Any last second thoughts, Steve Roberts? Strategies? Predictions? Who is this mystery entrant? SR: Drossy, I was born at night -- but not last night. If you think I'm gonna reveal the secrets right now and ruin this match for all those little children out there who light up my life, who give me hope to carry on, who light up my days and fill my nights with love, then you are crazier than my dear dead daddy who used to make me dress up like Betty Boop before I went to bed so he could take pictures of me when I slept and hand them out on the schoolbus. I loved that old man, Drossy. Miserable son of a bitch. TD: Call the neighbours and wake the kids, folks, make yourself a sandwich and strap yourself on in... because we are about to go to the ring where our own Sparkplug Lee will get the Eternal Battle Royal started! SR: Eternal Battle Royal... sounds like a threat, Drossy -- Hey, Sparky, I hear it's bigger than a baby's arm! You all that and a bucket of chicken, you three-legged-jeans-wearin' son of an unnamed goat! TD: Let's get up to the ring! ________ ______ | || |\ \ /\ / /| __| ..........................| || | \ v v / | __|.......................... |_||_| \_/\_/ |_| ETERNAL RUMBLE: Winner is IIWF World Heavyweight Champion FOREVER ......................................................................... WRITER: Jim Jividen [Each fan in the Coliseum stands as one, from the Furies to the Genesis Generation to the Dirty Doggies to the Sychopaths to the Creed Army to the L'il Soundbiters and all points in between, all twenty thousand strong standing and beginning a resounding chant, a _resounding_ chant of: "SPARK-PLUG...SPARK-PLUG...SPARK-PLUG!" ...as IIWF ring announcer Sparkplug Lee steps into the ring for the final time, adjusts his bow tie, gives a thumbs up to the bearded former IIWF executive who is holding up a sign in the front row: "Penguins Forever" ...Sparkplug mouths the words "thank you" to the fans as their chant now begins to subside... Or, rather it appeared that he had mouthed the words "thank you" as no sound had come from the microphone...but as no sound continues to emanate, it is clear that, in fact, Sparkplug has forgotten his only real preparatory duty as a ring announcer...that being to turn on the microphone. It is a fairly predictable happenstance that brings a roar of laughter from the crowd, a blush from the ring announcer himself and then a quick remedy leading to his beginning:] SL: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is your very special MAIN EVENT of the evening! Allow me to introduce first, making their way down the aisle, the Head of the IIWF Special Concerns Committee, Poutine Janois... the Head of IIWF Secuirty, Dennis "Griff" Griffing... and, the legendary Roughrider Roosevelt! [Very nice pop as the three IIWF veterans head toward ringside, Janois is first, lugging the 1000+ page IIWF rulebook as well as the Intercontinental Championship belt. Directly behind him is Griffing, who pushes Roosevelt's wheelchair for him as the men near the ring. Griffing, in his customary brown security shirt, is carrying the Cruiserweight Championship belt and draped across the shoulders of the increasingly infirmed Roosevelt are the Tag Team Championship belts. Each man waves broadly -- save Roosevelt, who sort of grunts a comment about "kicking Pat O' Connor's ass" -- as they reach ringside, handing the belts to former IIWF ring girl Lisa, making a surprise return tonight. Lisa raises the belts in the air...and drapes them across the timekeeper's table.] TD: Wonderful performances tonight by the new champions, Tiger Claw, Ronnie Paris, the Alphabet Boys -- and the red-gloved warrior Creed, whose World Championship belt is about to be given to the next man introduced. SR: Hey, Dross -- Lisa's sporting a little more upper body pride than the last time we saw her. More silicone in that girl than all the microprocessors in Mountain View. Hey, Lisa, now that's what I call a D Cup! Show your toes! Show your toes! Show your toes! ["Jeremiah Blues (Part One)" by Sting begins as Sparkplug Lee again takes the mic.] SL: The President of the IIWF...Daniel "The Beast" Spreadbury! [President Spreadbury, tired and tranquil as ever, makes his way to the ring as another nice pop rises from the crowd. With only a little difficulty navigating the ropes, Spreadbury is in the ring and picking up the IIWF World Championship belt. He holds the belt aloft, the camera focusing tightly on the shiny gold nameplate, upon which the word... "Forever" ...is now carved underneath the more familiar words: "IIWF World Heavyweight Champion". Spreadbury waves to the crowd, he and the World Championship belt exiting the ring and moving to the timekeeper's table, where it appears that ring girl Lisa is scribbling to him her phone number.] TD: "The Beast"? SR: So I played with Sparky's copy a little bit. Look at the Boss over there mackin' on the help like Slick Willie in the secretarial pool. You know, Danny ain't a playuh, he just crushes a lot. You know Dross, I crushed a lot... TD: Yes? SR: Nah, the morons can wait. [The officials now make their way to the ringside area, four men, Earl Alfonso, Dave D'Amato, Big Joey Patrick and Chuck Sanders all previously seen earlier in the evening. Each man remains outside the ring, standing resolutely if inauspiciously near each of the four corners of the ring. The buzz now becomes more palpable, the current pulsing its way through the arena and right through the screen as the crowd rises and Lee once again begins to speak:] SL: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is your Thirty Man Over-The Top Rope ETERNAL BATTLE ROYAL!! The contest will begin with two competitors, every two minutes an additional competitor will be introduced until all of the competitors have entered the ring. There are no pinfalls...no submissions...no disqualifications...and no countouts... The only way to be eliminated is to exit the ring over the top rope and have both feet hit the floor! The last man remaining in the ring will be the winner of the Eternal Battle Royal and will be crowned...IIWF CHAMPION FOREVER!! [A loud volley of fireworks is shot off, the glowing red words: IIWF CHAMPION FOREVER ...blast through the arena and draw a titanic pop as the bell... Ding! Ding! Ding! ...rings!] TD: Can you feel it? Can you feel it? Here we go, Steve Roberts! Here we go! We are about to see who the first and second entrants in this Eternal Battle Royal are...we are about to see who all thirty entrants in this battle royal...we are about to find out who will win the final match in IIWF history and be crowned Heavyweight Champion of the World...Forever!! [The crowd squeals as the number 1 flashes on the video wall as George Thorogood's "Bad To The Bone" plays over the PA...] TD: It's Gunnar Gaines! Gunnar Gaines is number 1! SR: He's bringing the old man, Drossy! Grizzly Gaines is bringing the old man and the old man is bringing the plunder! We're going balls to the wall at the top, baby dolls! [Big Pop as Ebeneezer Gaines enters the aisle pushing a clearly filled wheelbarrow. Gunnar follows behind, 357 pounds of flannel, the big man stops in mid aisle as the crowd roars, Gaines brandishing a flask of wood grain alcohol, and pounding down more than a couple of shots of courage before stepping into the ring. Gaines stands alone, motioning to Ebeneezer for an object from the wheelbarrow...and there is another big pop as he is tossed...] TD: A barbed wire baseball bat! Gunnar Gaines is going to begin this Eternal Rumble with a barbed wire baseball bat! SR: Here comes two, Drossy...let it be Quigley...oh please, oh please, oh... [The number...2...appears on the video wall accompanied by Black Flag's "Damaged 1"...] TD: Here comes Caleb Temple! Gunnar Gaines and Caleb Temple are going to begin this battle royal! SR: 'Bout time we saw these two throw down, Drossy -- they've been going round and round the wrestling world a long time -- and you know what I always say, "if there's grass on the field, play ball!" TD: That makes no sense, Steve Roberts. SR: Last match. Just wanted to say it again. [Temple reaches the ring to a big pop, shaking his head at the grinning Gaines who waves the baseball bat authoritatively. Temple motions with his hand, "come on...come on..." Gaines rears back with the bat -- then pauses and with an enormous grin motions to Ebeneezer to throw in another object! Gaines wants Ebeneezer to toss an object to Temple! Which he does. A samurai sword. Huge Pop as Temple picks up the sword, twirling it through the air and leading Gaines to glare outside at Ebeneezer with a look that says... "Great. Just...great." With a smile and a deep breath, Gaines turns back toward Temple and swings the bat -- missing -- Temple with a boot to the midsection, a DDT and then a bashing of Gaines' back with the blunt end of the sword! Pop as Temple bashes Gaines then lifts him to his feet, attempting a side Russian leg sweep that Gaines blocks and converts into a backslide that drives Temple's head into the barbed wire baseball bat! Pop as the fans count down.... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... The number 3 flashes on the video wall as the Scots Guards' "Heilan' Laddie" plays over the PA...] TD: Duncan Macbeth! Duncan Macbeth is number 3! SR: He don't want no part of this, Drossy -- the Scotsman's a tough enough guy, but he's outmatched in this family feud. [Pop as the green-eyed, bearded former Intercontinental Champion hits the ring, Macbeth grabs Gaines with a waistlock as he continues to grind Temple down into the barbed wire, Gaines letting go of Temple and swinging a back elbow -- which connects -- but Duncan is still able to German suplex Gaines to the canvas! Pop!...and then POP again as a now standing Temple BURIES the barbed wire baseball bat into Macbeth's midsection, doubling the Scotsman over and allowing Gaines to come in, lift Macbeth high in the air...and powerbomb him with a thud to the canvas! Big Baddest Thangs Running Pop as Temple climbs to the mid-rope, Gaines moving toward him and _hurling_ Temple atop Macbeth with a rocket launcher! Gaines moves toward the fallen Macbeth, he and Temple lifting him to his feet -- and then Macbeth fires back! Macbeth with right hands to Temple! Macbeth with right hands to Gaines! Macbeth with an Irish whip of Temple and a running bulldog that takes Caleb down sharply to the canvas! Gaines moves to his partner...and Gaines starts putting the boots to Temple! Gaines and Macbeth grabbing Temple together and attempting to toss him over the top rope...as the fans again begin counting down... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... TD: We've got no music, Steve Roberts...is this the mystery entrant? Who could it be? SR: I know who it is. TD: Steve Roberts, you have been saying that for two years and you never once know who it is. SR: I know lots of things, Drossy. I know about the McCarthy hearings and female circumcision and that Tom Hanks dies at the end of "Saving Private"...what in the hell is that? [Pop as the number...4...flashes on the video wall and five security guards, led by a cattle prod wielding Jailer enter the aisle...as does a straightjacket-bound Venusian Death Cell who is almost eerily placid as he is being led to the ring... A ring in which Gaines and Macbeth continue to attempt to push Temple over the top rope, as from the back, Earl Alfonso hops into the ring and clears it of the foreign objects. Gaines and Macbeth push...push...push Temple...and Gaines reaches over the top to grab something from Ebeneezer as VDC reaches the apron and has the straightjacket removed... followed by a pair of handcuffs...the massive, somewhat greenish Venusian Death Cell now enters the ring as Gunnar Gaines is handed an icepick...] TD: He jabs it in Macbeth's arm! Gaines jabs the icepick in Macbeth's arm! SR: Don't get in the family disputes, Drossy, just like my daddy used to tell those bastards from social services, "don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining!" [Pop as Macbeth reels away from Temple and Gaines, Macbeth staggering to a corner, Temple hitting Gaines with a big right hand and then corner-whipping Gaines into a big Grizzly Splash of the Scotsman! Big Pop as VDC stands resolutely in a corner...not moving...barely breathing...almost comatose in the corner of the ring. Macbeth slumps to the mat as Temple moves to a mid-buckle, leaping atop Gaines with a double axehandle...and is caught by Grizzly! Gaines catches Temple and lifts him high in the air...Temple seeming to climb his partner as Gaines lifts him into a nearly vertical position...a position from which Temple leaps with an elbowdrop and PLANTS Duncan Macbeth into the mat! Big, Big POP! And the fans again begin to count... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... The theme from "The Godfather" plays as the number...5...flashes over the video wall...] TD: It's Don Antonio! Don Antonio makes his return to the IIWF Coliseum! SR: What the hell is the Vulcan doing, Dross? He's just standing there like a freaking statue, like the world's largest heroin addict, stuffed and mounted like an animatronic Sinatra singing "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered" at the Rainbow Room forever. TD: I heard you were stuffed and mounted once. SR: Later, later, later. [Temple Irish whips a clearly struggling Macbeth into a Gaines bearhug, Temple coming off the back-ropes for a double-teamed clothesline...but catches nothing but air, almost propelling himself over the top rope as Gaines belly-to-belly suplexes Macbeth to the canvas! Antonio hits the ring, taking a shot at a completely unmoving VDC... Antonio shakes his head, moves to a mid-buckle and then rips off right hands as the crowd chants along with them, "1...2...3...4...5...6...7... 8...9..." and never reaches ten as Gaines splashes into the corner, ramming into the Cell and knocking Antonio over the top rope and to the outside!] TD: Don Antonio's gone! Don Antonio has been eliminated! SR: He was weak and stupid, Drossy -- Gaines had to fit him for some cement shoes! [VDC has yet to move...not even move an inch, through both the Antonio attack and the 350 pounds of Gaines splashing into him...Gaines now gives VDC a huge Grizzly grin, sticking his thumb up in the air and then grabbing himself as the Cell seems almost trance-like... Temple extricates himself from the ropes and moves toward a now standing Macbeth. Temple lays in a big shot -- but the fightin' Scotsman begins to double up the blows, Macbeth firing away at Temple and Irish whipping him nearside -- Macbeth drops his head as Temple comes over the top with a sunset flip...but is unable to pull Duncan over...until Gaines RIPS him down with a shotgun lariat! The crowd begins to count it down again...as the number...6...appears on the video wall... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... ["Also Sprach Zarathustra" by Richard Strauss plays, drawing a "Whoooo!" from the collected...] TD: Here comes Flare! SR: It's like old folks' home week around here, Drossy! The dirtiest man in the promotion is about to enter the ring! TD: I think that's "dirtiest player in the game", Steve Roberts. SR: I'm just saying what I hear from the towel boys. [Temple and Gaines again attempt to toss Macbeth over the top rope -- Temple then grabbing the heads of both Gaines and Macbeth and ramming them together! Temple with a boot to the midsection of each man, Temple nailing his partner with a European uppercut and then taking a European uppercut on the turnaround from Macbeth and then Macbeth is dropped to his knees by a low blow from Flare! Flare ducks a Gaines right hand and pops back up with a reverse knife edge chop that brings a... "Whooooooo!" ...from the fans. Oddly enough. Flare fires away with two, three, four knife-edges at Gaines until Temple waistlocks him, grabbing both arms with a double hammerlock and FLINGING him over the top to the canvas with a tiger suplex! Macbeth lifts Flare to his feet, then plants him over his knee with an atomic drop, Gaines ripping into Flare with a running elbowsmash that sends the dirtiest player in the game hard to the mat! Temple moves toward Macbeth, pushing him over a dropped down Gaines and into a schoolboy as Flare crawls toward the still totally unmoving VDC in the corner. Flare remains on his knees, uppercutting the Cell to the groin as the fans begin to count off the crotchshots... "1...2...3...4...5...6....7...8...9...10!"] TD: I don't think that's appropriate. SR: VDC still doesn't move, Drossy! And you don't ever no-sell the groin shots, if you can see how the Soundbite is shooting. Back in my day if a guy hit me anywhere from the sternum to the knees I'd drop down like I had anthrax pneumonia. It's sort of like the crotchshot strikezone, Dross -- you gotta sell them bad boys or the ladies won't think your ham is smokin'. Hey, Dross... do you think maybe Vulcans don't have genitals? Or maybe they're on the sides of his head? Hey, Flare -- hit him under the ears! That'll learn that green blooded son of a bitch! [Flare leaves VDC, moving into a Fargo strut as the fans see the number...7...on the video wall and again count it down...] 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... [Big, Big POP as "For Those About To Rock" by AC/DC blares over the PA...] TD: Chris Quigley!! Number 7 is the returning Chris Quigley!! SR: Oh, how I have waited for Quitley's return, Dross! It's like Douglas McArthur coming back to the Philippines and handing over his army to a retarded twelve year old boy prostitute in a rice field. No Mas, Quitley! No Mas!! [Quigley looks around the Coliseum with a mixture of amusement and a seeming surprise that he has returned, the ovation from the IIWF fans thundering down as Quigley makes his way to the ring.... Until he is struck down from behind by Andrew Macbeth! Andrew Macbeth appears from the back and waylays Quigley with what appears to be a sack of marbles! Macbeth drawing a heel pop as he blasts Quigley down...but Quigley fights back! Quigley getting to his feet and rocking Andrew into the retaining barrier... Flare gets to his feet, pulling a pair of knucks from his trunks and blasting away at VDC, Flare smashing the face of the Venusian...who continues to baffle the fans by being completely still!... Gaines and Temple seemingly have Duncan Macbeth ready to go over the top rope -- but the fightin' Scotsman again is able to fire back! Macbeth with some furious palm thrusts that back off the Baddest Thangs Running, Macbeth spying Quigley and his cousin Andrew from across the ring -- Duncan bursting into a dead sprint and suicide diving through the ropes with a topé onto the Quickstrike!] TD: Macbeth with the topé! Macbeth taking the big chance with the diving headbutt onto Quigley! SR: Oh, this is no good, Dross -- Griffing and those brownshirted bastards are ejecting Andrew from the building! What kind of a sick country is this where a man can't attack a Quitley from behind with a bag of marbles without some security officer politely asking him to leave? It's Rodney King all over again, Drossy! Free James Brown! Free James Brown!! [Macbeth and Quigley slug in out, hammer and tongs, tooth and nail, fist and...well, you know...fist...at ringside... Flare reaches back into his tights and pulls out a spur, which he deviously brandishes at the robotic VDC... Temple and Gaines again prepare to square off...Gaines telling Ebeneezer to toss in additional objects du internationale, Ebeneezer tosses to Temple a table leg...and then to Gunnar a leg of lamb! "Meat, Meat, Meat!" goes up a chant from fans hoping their favorite, Jimmy Steele, will defy his wife and the law and appear in the ring this evening. The chant is short-lived however, as the video wall flashes...8...and the fans begin again... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... [Again, there is no music, but instead an elderly seven foot man with an unusually small head wearing a luchadore's costume wobbles his way to the ring.] SR: This is the saddest thing I've ever seen. TD: It's Blackjack Haley, Steve Roberts! Or rather...it's El Ultimo Haley, and I would agree, he is not in the best of condition. We have not seen Haley since he left the IIWF after the first, surprisingly non-controversial, triple cross and he has not held up well at all! [Chris Quigley whips Duncan Macbeth hard into the steel steps on the outside, the two men showing no inclination to move into the ring... Gunnar Gaines decides to make hay while the sun shines, thrusting forward with his leg of lamb...a thrust easily parried by Temple who then WHACKS his partner solidly across the right shoulder blade with his table leg! Gaines stumbles back to the ropes and Temple wails on him again, bringing the table leg across his back and sending Gaines over the top rope... But he remains on the apron, sliding back in underneath and biting at his partner's ankles! Temple doubles over and Gaines, still on the canvas, grabs the top of his head and jawbreakers Temple sharply! Gaines lunges at Temple with a double-legged takedown and then begins to pepper his fallen partner with lefts and rights... The unfortunate Haley has managed to feebly make his way into the ring, rising on very unsteady legs...legs so shaky that he is unable to move out of the way as Flare, spur in hand, lunges away at the masked man, carving El Ultimo's face and knocking him over the top rope and to the outside! Big Heel POP!] TD: Flare has cut up his former stable-mate! Flare has eliminated Blackjack Haley and really cut him up in the process...that is disgusting, Steve Roberts! Haley is...Haley is...Haley is wearing stilts! What in the world...?! [Shocked pop as Haley's fall dislodges him from his stilts, and as he tears away the mask from his bloody face, he reveals that he, is in fact, an elderly midget!] SR: Blackjack Haley's a midget! Blackjack Haley's a midget and and Flare just cut the crap out of him! Midgets are evil, Dross, I've been saying it for years! I know it, you know it, Flare knows it and the American people know it! TD: Blackjack Haley is not a midget, Steve Roberts! Blackjack Haley is in the ring and he is behind Flare! [Huge Pop as El Ultimo Haley, former member of the IIWF's Horsemen and now the world's largest luchadore, stands in the ring behind a completely unsuspecting Flare! Flare taps his forefinger to his temple, thoroughly pleased with his elimination of "Haley"...and turns around to find himself smack into a Haley clothesline that sends him spinning over the top rope and to the outside! Big Pop as Haley eliminates Flare and the fans again count down while the number...9...appears on the video wall: 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... [David Lee Roth's "Just Like Paradise" plays to a Big Pop as Marty Warnett, former Intercontinental Champion, appears in the aisle.] TD: Marty Warnett! And he is going to go right after Chris Quigley! SR: Drossy, look in the ring! The Vulcan's gone ass bonkers! [Warnett sprints to ringside, where he is met by furious blows by Quigley! Warnett and Quigley brawling outside the ring, Warnett ramming Quigley's head into the retaining barrier 3-4-5 times! Quigley staggers away -- and is ripped to the ground by a Macbeth clothesline! Macbeth and Warnett then picking Quigley into the air, pressing him higher and higher...tossing Quigley several feet upward and DROPPING him throat first over the guardrail!... VDC explodes in a banshee type primal scream, howlingly tearing at Haley, blasting El Ultimo all the way across the ring into the opposite corner and then ramming him with a series of headbutts!... Referee Patrick has cleared the ring of the foreign objects and Gaines and Temple are now locked up. Gaines with a top wristlock and a series of big knees to the midsection. Temple reverses the wristlock, manoeuvring into an arm-wringer and then a hammerlock. Gaines flips him over the top and then lifts Temple up with a vertical suplex -- bringing his partner down with a brainbuster that brings a big pop from the fans!... VDC, his hands moving more rapidly than ever thought possible, continues his assault on Haley, the world's largest luchadore seemingly ready to go over the top rope, Haley being pushed over the top rope...but he grabs the top buckle...Haley grabs the top buckle and _jerks_ himself alongside, so he straddles the top and, with a boot to a constantly onrushing Cell, Haley yanks himself to his feet! El Ultimo Haley standing, all damn seven feet of him, on the top rope and LEAPING atop the neck of the Cell!] TD: That was the single worst hurricanarana in the history of this sport -- with the possible exception of Serge Annis' effort earlier tonight. Haley's head hit the canvas before his legs caught VDC's neck. SR: Yeah, Drossy -- but El Ultimo's still in this thing, and VDC doesn't know what the hell to do now! TD: Here comes Number 10! 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... [John Coltrane's "Stellar Regions" plays over the PA leading the "Enigma" Takezo Musashi down the aisle. Musashi is wearing his old black pants with Japanese silver and blue symbols along the side and he does a quick martial arts warm-up in the centre of the ring upon his entrance.] TD: The Enigma has been on a reign of terror like no other during 1998 -- it is certainly an interesting twist to see his wearing his old garb here tonight, following that dramatic, epic victory earlier this evening over Joe Petrow. SR: The Athenian's a bad mother--shut your mouth, Drossy...and so is Macbeth! Look at him and Warnett! [On the outside, Duncan Macbeth has turned his attention from the fallen Quigley to Marty Warnett, whose preoccupation with a still downed Quickstrike made him easy prey for a Macbeth boot to the midsection and a double underhook DDT to the steel steps! Macbeth stomps away at Warnett, Duncan picking Warnett up and snap suplexing him into the retaining barrier! Quigley now stands, Quigley pulling up the floor mat, yanking it away and then grabbing at Warnett...Quigley yelling at Macbeth to move to the apron, the Scotsman complying, hopping to a mid-buckle and getting ready to spike piledrive Warnett who is set up over the exposed Coliseum ground by Quigley...] TD: It's Musashi! It's Musashi! Enigma with the shove of Macbeth to the floor! [Musashi ducks through the ropes, to the apron and then with cat like agility makes it to the top buckle and, in continuous motion, executes a perfect flying head scissors on Quigley that RIPS the Quickstrike over the guardrail and into the crowd!! A huge roar, "IIWF...IIWF...IIWF" comes from the crowd... In the ring, Gaines and Temple take advantage of the heap in which VDC and Haley find themselves, Gaines grabbing the mightly El Ultimo and _planting_ him into the canvas with a Grizzly Slam, immediately followed by Temple's hitting a mid-rope fistdrop atop the now prone Haley, Gaines and Temple grabbing at El Ultimo and now prepare to toss him over the top rope... Musashi and Warnett bring Quigley back from the crowd and are now dragging him toward the ring where they are met by Macbeth, the Scotsman cross-bodying Musashi and ramming his head into the concrete, Warnett and Quigley now smell blood, each man grabbing at Macbeth and tossing him into the ring -- Musashi is on his feet, discus chopping at both Quigley and Warnett -- but is met with a double right hand and is then tossed into the ring himself, where he is soon followed by a once again brawling Warnett and Quigley...as the fans count down for number...11... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... [Pop from the crowd as "Black Cat" from Janet Jackson plays and the "Real Deal" Luke Steele makes his way down the aisle, Steele, with the words "IIWF's Own" on his pantlegs, smacks the hands of the aisleside fans as he approaches the ring.] TD: A good welcome for Luke Steele and he clearly appreciates it, taking a few moments to thank the fans as he approaches the ring. SR: He'd better take all the time he can, Drossy, I got a feeling his time in this battle royal is gonna be awfully poor, solitary, nasty, brutish and short. TD: Is that the same kind of feeling you have about who the mystery entrant is? SR: I _know_ who the mystery entrant is, you'd better step offa me, Dross, or I'll get Yakuza in there to go Albanian all over your ass. Hey, Dross -- wasn't he supposed to come in the back half of the draw? More of that rigging everyone's talking about these days? TD: No one said we were dealing with Mensa members, Steve Roberts. Actually the word is that Takezo Musashi said he wanted "no special privileges" and refused the later entry. SR: He's an idiot. A Yellow Jacket idiot. [As El Ultimo Haley nears elimination from Gaines and Temple, VDC seems to snap again, racing to the ropes and pulling off Temple! The Cell sprays a horrible green substance into his face, causing Caleb to back away -- Gaines swings a roundhouse punch that the Cell slips, VDC Irish whipping Gaines -- reverse -- and VDC comes off the back-rope with a big boot that sends Gunnar dropping hard to the canvas! Temple then charges VDC...and is blocked off by Haley! El Ultimo Haley meeting Temple with a back thrust kick, which more stuns him than does any injury...then connects again with a reverse crescent kick that actually drops Temple to the canvas! Big Pop as the Cell and Haley shake hands in the middle of the ring!! All four men from the outside have now found their way in, Macbeth had Musashi close to elimination -- but was stopped by Steele, Luke Steele now peppering the Scotsman with right hands that back him away from Musashi...allowing the Enigma to climb to the top rope as Chris Quigley has Marty Warnett leaning over the top -- the Enigma propelling himself through the air and STRIKING Quigley flush on the side of the head with a super spinning heel kick that lays the Quickstrike out and saves Marty Warnett!] TD: Quite an aerial display by the Enigma who seems to have had a change of heart during this last ever IIWF match -- and has taken a special interest in fan favourite Marty Warnett! SR: We aren't looking to make any love connections here, Dross -- this is for the big strap, baby dolls. Only good thing about the Rambling Wreck from Georgia Tech tonight is he's kicking the Quit right out of Quigley! TD: Georgia Tech? SR: From the ACC. I'm running out of countries, Dross. [The momentum of Haley and VDC is short-lived, Gaines and Temple each rising with a mad charge at this de facto team...but the veteran IIWF superstars remain strong, bowling over the BTR with two double clotheslines and two double big boots -- VDC musters everything he has in his green body and with the fans roaring in approval he pounds Gunnar Gaines to the canvas with a Venusian Death Slam!! VDC then rocks Caleb Temple backward as El Ultimo Haley...as El Ultimo Haley...] TD: Blackjack Haley is going to the middle of the mid-rope...Haley is going to try a quebrada on Gaines...BLACKJACK HALEY IS GOING TO TRY A QUEBRADA ON GAINES!!! [The number...12...appears on the video wall as "The Death March" begins as Shadoe Rage, accompanied by his brother Derek, Dirt Dog Unique Allah and Pizzazz and Marissa Monet make the walk down the aisle... ...as Haley bounces on the ropes to build momentum... Takezo Musashi and Marty Warnett double-team Chris Quigley, Warnett applying a half-crab while Musashi lays into the Quickstrike with sharp kicks to the ribs... ...as Haley leaps into the air...... Luke Steele and Duncan Macbeth continue to lockup in one corner...Steele with the advantage as he blasts the clearly weary Scotsman with numerous elbows to the mouth...but as he has done so often in this match, Macbeth fights back -- Macbeth whirling Steele into the corner, peppering his midsection and then monkey-flipping the Real Deal back toward the middle of the ring. Macbeth bounces off the back-ropes and sharply executes a rolling neck snap on the seated Steele to a big Pop from fans of the Scotsman... ...as Haley is...] TD: Caught! Haley caught by Gunnar Gaines and SPINEBUSTERED TO THE CANVAS!!! SR: That's why they don't sell Mexican jumping cucumbers, Dross -- ole' Blackjack's too big to play that game for very long. [Rage hits the ring hard, hurling himself over the top rope with a shoulderblock that takes out Warnett, causing him to break the hold on Quigley...whom Rage then puts the boots to, stomping Quigley back into the canvas...Rage does not take a second of repose, bouncing off the back-ropes and connecting a flying forearm SQUARELY on the jaw of Luke Steele which re-drops him to the canvas and, as Duncan Macbeth attempts to blunt the onslaught, Rage leapfrogs the charging Scotsman, hopping to a mid-buckle and hurling himself down with a twisting, mid-rope swinging neckbreaker that brings a huge POP from the fans of the Age of the Rage!!.... Gaines grabs the fallen Blackjack Haley and precariously lifts him into the air in position for a crucifix slam...Temple climbs to a top rope...and is chased up by VDC...Temple boots VDC down...but the Cell will not yield! VDC showing a tremendous amount of heart as he smacks the chest of Caleb Temple...only to take an enormous right hand that staggers him...Gaines himself begins to stagger under the dead weight of the enormous Haley as Temple flies down upon them with an elbowdrop that propels Haley down from Gaines' shoulders, over the top rope and to elimination on the outside...Cell runs to the ropes, seeing his old rival eliminated -- and turns around too late to escape a Gaines clothesline that takes him over the top as well! Temple then charges his partner Gaines! Temple charging his partner who backdrops him over the top rope and ALL THE WAY TO THE OUTSIDE! TD: Caleb Temple, VDC and Blackjack Haley are gone! Three more men eliminated and we're about to get Number 13!! SR: Live long and prosper, VDC...think I can get the ears, Drossy? 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... ["So What'Cha Want?" by the Beastie Boys is played as...as Flare again appears in the aisle! Flare reaches ringside as Blackjack Haley and VDC were again shaking hands, Flare attacking each man! Flare attacking each man and then sprinting to the back as with a "Whooooo!" he again disappears...as the "Showstopper" Simon Lebec emerges from the back! ...Takezo Musashi has picked up the Shadoe Rage gauntlet, attacking the newcomer to the ring with lightning fast kicks, back, front and round...kicks that stagger Shadoe to the side ropes where he is followed by the Enigma...Musashi trying to push Rage over the top... ...Chris Quigley battles back against Marty Warnett. Quigley with quick, deep armdrag take-overs that send Warnett hard to the canvas...Warnett's attempt to his feet is halted by a big right hand from Macbeth, the Scotsman then lifted on his feet into a backbreaker by Steele -- Steele attempts another backbreaker...but both he and Macbeth are then mowed down by an onrushing Gaines, now nearing half an hour in this main event! ...Lebec reaches the ring and stops...Lebec viewing the carnage with a whimsical smile...moves to a corner, leans back and with an exaggerated yawn, closes his eyes and pretends to sleep! Huge Pop for the Showstopper!! ...Quigley picks up Warnett with a waistlock, Warnett reverses into a standing switch, Warnett with a sleeper-hold that Quigley counters with a fireman's carry take-over! Quigley now on the canvas with Warnett, Quigley applying a cross-face while grapevining the leg!! Quigley with a modified STF on Warnett right in the middle of the ring!!...] SR: Submission holds. Quitley's always thinking. TD: Steve Roberts, Chris Quigley is an extremely cerebral athlete -- perhaps he is trying to wear down Warnett...or maybe just prove a point...you cannot deny that, even after that gruelling Legends Match, that Chris Quigley is one of the favourites in this match! SR: No goddamn way, Dross! First of all, no one who already fought tonight has a chance in hell of winning this match, Christ, Gunnar Gaines has been in here half an hour and already fought tonight... Second, no one in the ring until say...number 20 has a chance to win this thing because the competition is too good and too heated here -- you just can't stay in the ring that long with some of the monsters who are left in this match...and third, he's Chris Freaking Quitley and the Coliseum roof will fall down before he ever becomes IIWF Champion!! 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... ["Scythe, Rage and Rose" by Dark Tranquillity plays as the arena roars on behalf of the veteran Deathbringer!] TD: The Dead Man is number 14! We could have a winner in the Deathbringer! [Huge Pop as the former World Champion slowly makes his way down the IIWF Coliseum aisle for the final time! The Deathbringer becoming the first former Heavyweight Champion to enter the ring in this Eternal Rumble, this contest with the richest of all prizes... And in the ring are men who could not be more cognisant of it... ...Men like Shadoe Rage, who, with his body nearly pushed over the top rope is the beneficiary of a huge chairshot onto the head of the Enigma by Derek Rage! The Enigma's legs go dead but he remains upright... staggering back toward the centre of the ring where he is met with a dropkick from Simon Lebec, who sneaks away from the corner and just as quickly runs back to safe haven... ...Men like Gunnar Gaines, who now is battling with two fists, trying to keep Luke Steele away with his left while fending Duncan Macbeth with his right...Gaines battling with the ferocity of a man whose only real career ambition remaining is to taste IIWF gold, Gaines desperately trying to keep these two younger, fresher superstars from tossing him over the top rope...Macbeth goes low, banging away at the knees of the veteran big man...while Steele stays high, Luke Steele digging elbow after elbow to the face of Grizzly...Gaines blindly battling on, flailing away with wild abandon as he moves closer and closer to elimination... ...Men like Chris Quigley and Marty Warnett, Quigley with that STF still strapped on, Warnett with seemingly no opportunity to escape...and both men...both men...both men now BEING LIFTED INTO THE AIR...BIG POP!!] TD: Chokeslam!! Double Chokeslam by the Deathbringer!! Good God!! Good God!! Chris Quigley and Marty Warnett are planted right in the middle of the ring!! [As Simon Lebec moves to the top rope, dropping a senton backsplash upon the fallen Quigley and Warnett...the Deathbringer bounces off the backropes, hurling himself toward Macbeth, Steele and Gaines...and knocking all of them over the top rope!... But Duncan Macbeth holds on! And Luke Steele holds on!! And Gunnar Gaines is eliminated!! The Deathbringer eliminates Gunnar Gaines and as Macbeth and Steele remain on the apron, the Deathbringer waffles each of them with huge right hand haymakers, the Deathbringer with massive overhand rights that nearly knock each man off the apron, Steele and Macbeth each desperately trying to remain on the apron while the mighty Deathbringer pounds away... Chris Quigley beats Marty Warnett to his feet, Quigley scooping up Warnett, placing his head underneath his arm and bringing him over the top with a Northern Lights suplex...Quigley perhaps forgetting himself with a bridge that is broken by a low blow from Musashi!... Simon Lebec begins to whistle a tune that sounds like "Dixie" as he remains in the corner...Deathbringer misses a big shot as Duncan Macbeth goes low with a shoulderblock, doubling the Dead Man over and allowing Luke Steele to fling himself over the top and back into the ring with a sunset flip that is quickly followed by a Duncan Macbeth slingshot clothesline that brings him back into the ring and takes the 'Bringer to the canvas as the fans count it down once again!! 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... [A *GONG!* followed by the cry of an eagle rings throughout the arena as, from a zip line some twenty feet above the ring appears the White Phoenix, Shinja Chow! The Phoenix seems to descend from a flaming eagle, pyrotechnically outlined against the Coliseum backdrop. The horribly scarred Phoenix reaches centre ring, moves to release himself from his bounds...but before he can, he is met with a swinging neckbreaker by the opportunistic Lebec! The line is removed and Lebec tries to scamper away...only to be caught with a spinning leg lariat by Chow!... ...Marty Warnett grabs a double hammerlock of Quigley, motioning for Musashi to aid in the double-team, the Enigma does, with another boot to the Quickstrike's groin that he follows up with a jumping thrustkick to the throat of Warnett! Surprised Pop as Musashi dives atop Warnett with a Thesz press, pulling from his tights a shiv with which he gouges the forehead of Marty!! Shocked Pop as the Enigma, pulling a stunned Warnett to his feet, seems to almost _reach_into_ the young man's forehead...grabbing handful of Warnett's blood that he uses to slowly draw a pentagram on his own chest!!! Huge Huge Heel Pop for the Enigma!!] TD: Good God! Good God! Takezo Musashi has absolutely snapped! He has viciously attacked Marty Warnett in an unbelievably vile way...I don't know what has happened to this young man, Steve Roberts! SR: He's just emulating his Viking ancestors, Drossy! Go Leif Musashi, Go Leif Musashi, Go Leif Musashi Go! Hey, Dross...my Musashi got Leifed... TD: Later? SR: You bet your sweet ass, partner. [As Musashi continues painting himself with Warnett's blood, he is set upon by both Luke Steele and Duncan Macbeth, the two men abandoning the Deathbringer and, more out of outrage than a sense of possible elimination, falling all over Takezo Musashi, who seems almost impervious to the assault -- an assualt that is soon joined by both Simon Lebec and the White Phoenix...all four men clearly upset with Musashi, who now places the shiv on his tongue, letting the blood of Marty Warnett drip from his mouth...the blood still pouring from Warnett's forehead as if it were a faucet... Musashi defends himself as the fans begin to count it down one more time... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... The Olympic Fanfare barely is underway as the popular Icehawk sprints to the ring...Icehawk clearly intent on the goings on inside... ...Which are that Takezo Musashi is working working himself into a lather, as he spits, snorts, screams and almost seems to involuntarily weep as he madly kicks and chops away at Macbeth, Steele, Lebec, and the White Phoenix... Icehawk remains outside the ring, reaching underneath to pull out a steel stepladder as Musashi inside appears ready to burst into flame, the fury...the evil fury of the Enigma never more clear as he bursts his way through the four men attacking him and again attacks Warnett with the shiv! Musashi digging, gouging, burying his object into Warnett!! The heel pop rises to historic proportion -- and now even Shadoe Rage and the Deathbringer have joined the group of men who are attacking the Enigma!...Only Quickstike Chris Quigley...only Chris Quigley remains out of the fray, standing in the corner as the demonic Musashi refuses to be put down by even all six men! Musashi burying the object inside the cranium of Warnett...Musashi seeming intent on reaching skull and beyond as he plunges the shiv into Warnett without any regard for the well-being of his long-time competitor!! Icehawk sets up the ladder on the outside of the ring, climbing quickly to the top and taking a deep breath...] TD: I don't know...I don't know what this young man has in mind...but I do know that young ICEHAWK IS ABOUT TO FLY!! [Icehawk sets his body in pike position...and...leaps... ...twisting...and...turning...and rotating...over...and over...and overAND OVER AND OVER... !!!!!!!!!BAM!!!!!!!!! CATACYLSMIC POP!!] TD: STARSAULT PRESS!! STARSAULT PRESS!! ICEHAWK HAS DONE...HE HAS DONE A STARSAULT PRESS AND A HALF FROM THE TOP OF THE LADDER ONTO TAKEZO MUSASHI!! SR: Jesus Christ. [Crazy, Crazy POP as Luke Steele scoops up the flattened Musashi and easily dumps him over the top rope...while Shadoe Rage does the same thing for Icehawk, each man eliminated from the battle royal! Paramedics sprint to ringside, moving to the apron and pulling Marty Warnett outside, Warnett gathered up then on the apron and led to the back. In the confusion, it is Quigley who takes advantage...Chris Quigley attacking the Deathbringer from behind, Quigley with a sharp high knee to the back that drives the dead man over the top rope and to the outside!! Enormous surprised POP as Chris Quigley gains revenge and eliminates the Deathbringer!!! The pairings off begin, Macbeth and Steele resuming their brawl which takes them to the corner...Shadoe Rage, the White Phoenix and Simon Lebec move to an opposite corner as Chris Quigley stands in the middle of the ring, the number...17...flashing over the video wall and the fans again counting it down... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... [The Steve Miller Band's "The Joker" gently breezes over the PA...but there is nothing gentle about the man who is about to walk the aisle...] TD: It's...It's Maurice McArthur! Steve Roberts, Mister Majestyk Maurice McArthur is the mystery entrant in this matchup! He must have a death wish, Steve Roberts! SR: I knew it all along, Drossy! [4M, having turned on his long-time friend/mentor/partner earlier in the evening confidently strides into the aisle and is RIPPED DOWN by a reverse Joe Petrow spearing takedown! "Sychosys" Joe Petrow, now completely bald, and inexplicably wearing one red glove, snarlingly drags his former confidante down the aisle, a huge, a HUGE IIWF Coliseum pop now rises for the man whom is the actual number 17 entrant in this Eternal Rumble...] TD: Steve Roberts, this is Joe Petrow's number! You were wrong about the mystery entrant! SR: I know who it is. TD: You do not, Steve Roberts -- but Joe Petrow is the only man in the IIWF with an undefeated record in battle royals. Can he keep that record intact tonight? [As Joe Petrow drags Maurice McArthur around the outside of the ring, on the inside we see a man whom has now spent some 30 minutes in this Battle Royal, the fightin' Scotsman, Duncan Macbeth, winner in a previous IIWF battle royal to find a number one IC contender. Macbeth, considered by some the hardest-working wrestler in IIWF history, Macbeth, who battled his way, like so many other IIWF'ers have done, from complete anonymity to Championship gold in the Double Eye, a walking testament to the ability of the IIWF to "create" stars as opposed to simply feed off the work of others. Macbeth battles in the corner with Luke Steele, Macbeth spinning away from a possible elimination, grabbing a front facelock and cradling the leg of Steele and then WHIRLING the Real Deal to the mat with a fisherman's neckbreaker to a big POP from his fans! In the centre of the ring, staring dead at Joe Petrow, who has now reached the Guatemalan announce position, is Chris Quigley. In the corner opposite Macbeth and Steele is Shadoe Rage, as tough as any customer in IIWF history. Not the biggest or even the most talented member of his own extended family, nonetheless it is Rage who is in the ring now in the biggest match, perhaps in the history of wrestling...and it is Rage who delivers, blasting the White Phoenix down into the canvas with thunderous right hands, he and Simon Lebec whipping the Phoenix cross-corner ---- reverse ---- Lebec being sent whipping hard to the buckle, Shadoe opportunistic to the core, grabbing the Phoenix and then sending him hard toward Lebec, the physically brilliant Chow gathering his momentum and ROCKING Lebec with a Phoenix Strike that nearly propels the Showstopper out of this match! In the centre of the ring stands Chris Quigley as Joe Petrow lifts his former partner high above the Guatemalan announcers...and JoeHammers him through the table! BIG POP as Petrow explodes his former partner through the table, the chants of "IIWF...IIWF...IIWF" barely underway as Petrow scoops up his partner and pointing to the rabid section of what was the original fan group in IIWF history, the Sycopaths, yells out, "Show him what we do with traitors!" and TOSSES 4M to the crowd! And as Joe Petrow takes a table shard and slices his own forehead... Chris Quigley watches from the centre of the ring. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... [The number...18...flashes over the video wall and "The Great Southern Trendkill" by Sepultura blares through the Coliseum...] TD: Derek Mota! Derek Mota is coming down the aisle! SR: The Canadian bastard might be just nasty enough to win this thing, Drossy -- if he hadn't already wrestled tonight and if his number wasn't too high and if he wasn't Canadian. TD: We don't like Canadians now? SR: Nah, just that damn Quigley. But any country that can produce a Chris Quigley can't be much good. [As Joe Petrow's eyes find Chris Quigley's, Sychosys moving into the ring...the distracted Quickstrike is nailed from behind by a Mota dropkick! Quigley heads hard for the ropes as Mota pursues, Quigley bouncing off, flying the opposite way and landing a sharp spinning forearm shot to Mota that drops the Heatseeker!!... ...Simon Lebec is nearly tossed outside from the Phoenix Strike, Chow chopping feverishly at the chest of Lebec to knock him from the ring...and finds help from Shadoe Rage, who grabs at the White Phoenix, whipping him farside and then backdropping him high into a throatbuster bulldog by a passing-by Petrow! Sychosys grabs the Phoenix to his feet, he, Rage, and now Lebec together attempting to toss Chow over the top rope... ...Luke Steele, giving as good as he gets against Duncan Macbeth, meets the Scotsman's attempt to push him over the top rope with a series of right hands, Macbeth front facelocks for a suplex...but the Real Deal floats over the top and DRIVES Macbeth into the canvas with a floating DDT that brings a big pop from the IIWF faithful! ...Mota and Quigley move back to their feet, the Heatseeker with a sharp standing side headlock that he turns into a side headlock take-over. Quigley with the headscissors counter and the float-over for the reverse chinlock...Mota smacks at Quigley's forearm and moves to his feet, Mota grabbing an arm-wringer and nailing the Quickstrike with a short armed clothesline! Mota swings a second...but Quigley slips, ducks his head under and grabs a stretch plum on the smaller Mota! Big technically minded POP!] TD: Quigley with another submission hold and we are getting closer to your mythical number 20, Steve Roberts! SR: This is a bigger lottery than Powerball, Drossy. If you aren't 20 or above it's, "thank you, drive through" here at the big daddy-o battle royal. TD: That was a big jackpot, Steve Roberts, maybe not as important as the IIWF Championship Forever, but 296 million dollars will feed a lot of bulldogs -- what would you do with 296 million dollars, Steve Roberts? SR: Yasmine Bleeth. 592 times. [The number...19...flashes across the video wall and an enormous face pop quickly rises as "Little Willie" by the Sweet plays and a white spotlight frames the arrival, for the final time, of Billy Shakespeare into the IIWF Coliseum! Shakespeare, not only an IIWF original but a hometown boy, a Portland area native, makes a grand bow as the roar intensifies for this two year long fan favourite! In the ring, Petrow and Rage now hold onto the arms of the White Phoenix, Chow helpless as Simon Lebec rips him with forearms -- Chow struggling to move away from the ropes...away from elimination...away from the end of his career as Lebec runs from 3/4 ring and rips into the Phoenix with a jumping high knee strike! Lebec is smirking now...the Showstopper laughing as he runs back to the far corner, Lebec climbing the top rope as the Phoenix fights... fights...fights...to break free of Petrow and Rage...the Phoenix nearing center ring as he is in the sights of Lebec... ...Macbeth and Steele, each man battling fatigue as well as each other exchange slumping blows on the ropes, neither man able to attain the advantage for long... ...Mota is able to reverse the stretch plum into an abdominal stretch of his own, but Quigley takes him down with a side rolling leg scissors, the Quickstrike continuing his apparent strategy by putting Mota in a cross knee scissors...but it is the other Canadian...the other Canadian, Derek Mota who proves his technical mettle by reversing the hold, rotating to his feet and applying a Texas clover leaf onto Chris Quigley!! ...Lebec measures Chow and leaps with a top rope cross body... ...and is STUCK DEAD IN MID-AIR BY A FLYING SHAKESPEARE! Huge Pop for Billy as he met Lebec with a top rope cross-body of his own, colliding suicidally in mid-air with the body-block that dropped both men like a stone to the canvas! Chow frees himself with double palm strikes to Petrow and to Rage, the Phoenix chopping away at both men, leaping in a single bound to the middle of the top rope...and sweeping a super jumping side kick that sends Petrow falling into a ready-made stomachbreaker by Shadoe Rage! Rage holds Sychosys in place, the White Phoenix charging to the top rope and coming down with a guillotine legdrop that RIPS Petrow face first into the canvas! Big, Big POP as the video wall flashes the number...20...and the crowd again begins to count down... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... SR: This is it, Dross -- Number 20! Here is your winner right here! Number 20! ["1492: Conquest of Paradise" by Vangelis soars throughout the IIWF Coliseum as the arena explodes into a heel pop and a nearly 7 foot monster with the words: "Genesis Forever" ...on his singlet begins to slowly walk from a blue light down the aisle...] SR: Noooooooooooo!! TD: Requiem! Here is Requiem! SR: Hold me back, Drossy! This no-talent piece of garbage put his hands on me and hurt my boy Smooth! L'il Soundbiters Unite! Attack!! Attack!! [The middle-aged collective of drunken, overweight fans known the world over as the L'il Soundbiters muffle a "Shoot, Soundbite! Shoot!" at the announcement of their names...and then immediately fall asleep.] SR: I hate this goddamn business. [In the ring...Derek Mota releases the clover leaf on Quigley... Luke Steele abandons his attempt to toss Duncan Macbeth over the top rope... Simon Lebec staggers to his feet, shaking his head clear from the mid air collision with Billy Shakespeare... And the White Phoenix whirls his scarred body away from "Sychosys" Joe Petrow... All four men awaiting the entrance of the Angel of Destruction... And they do not wait long, Requiem stepping over the top rope and then is beset by all four men, Steele reaches him first, the Real Deal tackling him low as Shinja Chow spinkicks him high...Requiem teeters as Derek Mota leaps atop his neck! Mota attempting a Frankensteiner and, as Requiem holds on...Mota peppers Requiem with quick hitting right hands to the face...Simon Lebec, Simon Lebec, Simon Freaking Lebec directing traffic...Lebec pointing to Shakespeare to remain on his knees...Lebec asking Macbeth for the propelling Irish whip, Lebec whirled hard by the Scotsman, Lebec stepping atop Spotlight Shakespeare and LAUNCHING himself forward with a cannonball somersault splash that RAMS into the monstrous Requiem and sends the full group falling over the top rope!! ...And in the middle of the ring, Chris Quigley and Joe Petrow stand nose-to-nose....] TD: Requiem hangs on! Requiem hangs on!! GOOD GOD!! [Simon Lebec's assault is not enough, Requiem maintaining hold of Mota from around his neck, Mota punching away even as Requiem POWERBOMBS HIM TO THE OUTSIDE!!! Big POP as Derek Mota is eliminated, Simon Lebec leaping up immediately for a forearm strike and is CAUGHT by Requiem! Requiem with one hand around the throat of Lebec and he CHOKESLAMS him over the top rope and to the outside!! Shinja Chow backs up rapidly, moving from the opposite corner into a Phoenix Strike of the now turning around Requiem...and Requiem does not move! Requiem catching the White Phoenix to his body, manoeuvring him into a Tombstone position and breaking into a run across the ring for a DRVING BRIMSTONE BOMB!!! The White Phoenix laid out cold in the middle of the ring as Requiem then picks him off the canvas -- and easily tosses him to the outside!!! Huge...Dominating...POP!!! Luke Steele, discretion playing no role in his valour, charges Requiem, Steele with the flying cross-body that Requiem catches! Requiem deadlifting the full 275 pounds of the Real Deal into a military press! Requiem pressing the Deal high above his head and moving to the ringpost for a Reqbreaker that is broken up by Billy Shakespeare!! Billy Shakespeare leaping from the top rope with a super enzuigiri to the Requiem! Requiem is staggered...but does not fall!! Requiem keeping Luke Steele high in the military press and now TOSSING him at Shakespeare!! Steele sent into Shakespeare high and both men crashing into Duncan Macbeth and falling over the top rope!!!! But Billy Shakespeare hangs on...... And Luke Steele hangs on.... And Duncan Macbeth, Duncan Macbeth with 40 minutes in this battle royal...... Duncan Macbeth also hangs on!! With Joe Petrow and Chris Quigley still nose to nose, almost oblivious of the other wrestlers in the ring...Joe Petrow and Chris Quigley doing some big league jawing at each other in the middle of the ring as Requiem, Requiem who has just eliminated half the ring is confronted by the fearless Shadoe Rage...Shadoe Rage pointing to his chin...incredibly DARING Requiem to take a shot at him as the video wall flashes...21... and the fans again begin to count it down... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... [Live's "Larkin's Juice" plays to a Big Pop as the shocking last Cruiserweight Champion ever, Ronnie Paris, emerges. Paris wears a t-shirt reading simply "Pride Worthy" as he makes his way down the aisle...] TD: An awesome...I mean an awesome display by the man called Requiem, Steve Roberts! Mota, Lebec and the White Phoenix are gone and three others nearly so and Requiem is now taking it out on Shadoe Rage!! SR: See, this is exactly the kind of thing I'm not going to miss when I retire. I'm not gonna miss Chuck Norris Rules strip poker at Morton's house...I'm not gonna miss a bunch of numbnuts thirteen year old "smart marks" on the internet who wouldn't know a dangling preposition from skanky on your hangdown evaluating the performance of a goddamn musical genius like Steve "Soundbite" Roberts and I ain't gonna miss seeing this sack of Culture Club crap embarrassing my beloved Double Eye Double You F'n Eff right here on Pay-Per-View! [Rage takes shot after shot at Requiem... ...and repeatedly gets slammed to the canvas with open hand slaps... Luke Steele and Duncan Macbeth, as they have so many times in this Eternal Rumble are brawling near the ropes.... Billy Shakespeare climbs to the top turnbuckle once again... And Joe Petrow is now mockingly screaming out the words, "I Quit! I Quit!" at Chris Quigley, whose fists are curled at his sides, Quigley smoulderingly intense as Petrow grows more gleefully animated, dropping to the canvas and yelling, "Let go!...Let go!...Please let go!" ...Ronnie Paris hits the ring and readies an assault on Requiem -- but is struck hard from an amazing missile dropkick by Shakespeare than takes him instantly over the top rope!] TD: Paris is gone! Ronnie Paris is instantly gone! [Requiem grabs at Shadoe, lifting him high in the air and hurling him like a dart over the top rope!! Quigley abandons Petrow, meeting Shakespeare on his return to the mat with a superkick that sends Shakespeare to the ropes... Duncan Macbeth and Luke Steele remain tied together at the ropes...] TD: Shadoe is caught by Derek! Shadoe is caught by Derek! Derek Rage tosses Shadoe back in...and Requiem tosses Shadoe back out! Shadoe Rage is gone...NO! NO! Derek Rage has Shadoe again! The seven foot Derek climbing to the apron! Derek tossing Shadoe back in...and Derek now battling with Requiem!! Steve Roberts...Steve Roberts!...the Prophets of Rage are battling with Requiem!! SR: Here come the Boyz From the Hood, Drossy! Dirt Dog, Pizzazz, Marissa and the Prophets of Rage all pummelling Requiem...Yeah! Yeah! What up my homies!! West Si-eeeeed! [As the number...22...flashes across the video wall, with Macbeth near elimination by Steele...Shakespeare near elimination by Quigley... Requiem near elimination by all of the Family Rage...and Joe Petrow standing alone in the middle of the ring the crowd begins to count it down... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... [Crazy...Crazy...Crazy POP as the theme from "High Plains Drifter" kicks in over the PA...] TD: HERE COMES BRODY THUNDER! [The chants, "Bro-dy Thun-der...clap,clap...clap.clap.clap" resonate throughout the IIWF Coliseum as the first two-time World Champion in Federation history slowly begins his walk to the ring...] TD: Brody Thunder absolutely brutalised Ronnie D. earlier this evening -- and he has got to be a favourite here tonight! SR: I hate the damn drugstore cowboy, Drossy -- but at 22, you gotta say you are looking at the IIWF World Champion Forever!! [Thunder hits the ring and approaches Petrow...but in the corner is Requiem...Requiem who goes absolutely mad at the sight of Thunder... Requiem nailing the two women, Pizzazz and Marissa with huge right hands that knock them from the apron...Requiem grabbing the mighty Derek Rage and chokeslamming him to the outside!!...Requiem lashing a left hand at Shadoe Rage that sends him sprawling across the ring...and Requiem charging like a bull in a china shop toward Brody Thunder!! ...Chris Quigley's attempt to toss Billy Shakespeare over the top rope continues, Shakespeare actually going through the ropes to the apron, Shakespeare to his feet and running the length of the apron as Quigley follows...Shakespeare moving to the top turnbuckle...as Quigley follows!!! ...Luke Steele and Duncan Macbeth continue their reversals on the ropes...Steele corner-whipping Macbeth sharply and then hitting a huge running elbow that drives the Scotsman backward...but Macbeth slips a follow, hopping with as much energy as the number three entrant in this battle royal has left to the mid-buckle, grabbing a facelock and hitting a Tornado DDT on Steele that leaves the Real Deal laid out! ...Joe Petrow finds the fallen Shadoe Rage, Petrow executing a JoeHammer on the battling Rage, then standing above him and slowly stomping on various portions of Shadoe's anatomy! Petrow with the...JoeStomp...as he grinds his boot into Shadoe's throat.... TD: We're close to 23! Eight men in the ring, Steve Roberts, and eight men left! We are getting close to finding out who will be IIWF Champion Forever!!! And who, who is that Mystery Partner!! SR: You know, Drossy, I did some things once. TD: How'd that turn out for you, Steve Roberts? SR: Damn baby, how many times do we have to go through this...gotsta make the morons wait. Wait like I made Chelsea wait during her first time after her junior prom. "Oh...please...Soundbite...Oh...please... right now...right now...be my daddy, Soundbite...let me call you daddy, Soundbite...do you want me to put on my special daddy's girl blue dress and call you Commander In Chief Soundbite..." TD: That's wrong on so many levels, Steve Roberts. SR: It's why the people love me -- I represent the "Inner Soundbite" who lives in us all. [Requiem and Thunder rip away at each other!...Requiem doubling up the rapidity of the shots and delivering a huge uppercut that lifts Thunder off his feet and allows Requiem to grab him for an enormous running powerslam that PLANTS Thunder hard into the canvas!! Shakespeare attempts to knock Quigley from the top rope but can't...Shakespeare with boots to Quigley but can't shake him...Quigley setting up a facelock, cinching himself on the top...and hitting the PLEXECUTION on Shakespeare!! Macbeth moves to a mid-rope and readies himself to drop an educated sharp elbow on Steele...but Steele rolls free and Macbeth smacks nothing but canvas... Joe Petrow picks Shadoe Rage to his feet, backing him away with knife edge chops and whipping him near-side, Petrow turning around to find himself locked with his arms at his sides by a returning Rage...Shadoe hurling him up and over with a double armed suplex!...Petrow quickly recovers and finds himself in the arms of Rage again...Shadoe grabbing a pump handle and laying Petrow out with a pump handle slam!! The video wall flashes...23...as Ozzy Osborne's "Crazy Train" plays to a titanic POP.] TD: It's the People's Champion!! It's the Legend of the IIWF! It's the Subway Psycho! And at number 23, he could be IIWF Champion Forever!! SR: Sometimes it's hard to be the Soundbite. [The battle lines remain clearly delineated...Requiem...oh, how you know this brilliant, powerful man would love to prove all of the naysayers wrong and become IIWF Champion Forever...Requiem lifting Brody Thunder high above his shoulders in a horizontal backbreaker! Requiem racking Thunder in a horizontal backbreaker...and Thunder now popping Requiem to the face! Thunder popping Requiem to the face and moving down the back and taking Requiem over with a crucifix...Requiem staggers toward the ropes as Thunder continues the takedown... Billy Shakespeare lays flat out on the canvas, the exhaustion not only of this match, but of the three he won earlier this evening...and maybe of his entire two year service to the promotion he so loves, the IIWF, perhaps weighing on him as Chris Quigley now goes back to the top rope...Chris Quigley going back to the top rope for a high risk manoeuvre of his own, Quigley setting up for the Lightning Strike as Shakespeare lies prone... Shadoe Rage now works feverishly, Rage picking Petrow up again and grabbing a gutwrench...that Petrow reverses...Petrow reversing the gutwrench and bringing Rage all the way over with a thundering Doctor Bomb that brings a huge whoop from the Sychopaths, a faint "Help Me" heard from that direction of the Arena... The Subway Psycho hits the ring, moving quickly to the top rope with seeming disregard for his body and coming down on a totally unsuspecting Duncan Macbeth with a De-Railer!! Huge POP as the Scotsman lies completely prone...Steele and the Psycho grabbing ahold of Macbeth, lifting him up and...] TD: They're dropkicked to the mat!! It's Tim Turner!! Tim Turner has saved Duncan Macbeth!! [Huge Pop as the number...24...apparently that of Turner flashes and the former Cruiserweight Champion flashes right hands at the Psycho, knocking him down...and then at Steele, knocking him down...Turner's long-time friend turned enemy, Duncan Macbeth staggers to his feet, Turner hopping to the top and hitting consecutive flying head scissors on Steele, the Psycho and then Joe Petrow who waded into his field of vision!! Macbeth grabs Steele, looking to toss him out...Turner grabs Petrow, looking for the same result...and that tough, resilient Shadoe Rage begins to pummel the Psycho, also toward the ropes!! Thunder's crucifix attempt at Requiem is turned to an earthshaking Samoan Drop that has the "Lone Wolf" crashing on top of the ropes! Requiem taking advantage by sticking a big boot in the neck of Thunder and trying to shove him over... Chris Quigley flies down with the Lightning Strike...and Shakespeare catches him squarely in the midsection with a standing dropkick! Quigley falls hard to the canvas and Shakespeare scoops him up and tries to push him outside...the number...25...flashes...and the music which begins draws a pop different not just in volume...but different in composition than any ever heard in the IIWF Coliseum... The music is Van Halen... "Running With the Devil". And it makes everyone in the ring stop cold.] TD: You have...you have got to be kidding me, Steve Roberts. [Enormous roar as Steve Roberts stands atop the broadcast table, peeling off his jacket and shirt...ripping away what were tear-away pants to reveal red white and blue trunks on which are the words: No Love. No Learnin'. ...written strategically on the back and then the front of his trunks respectively. Roberts opens his arms wide to accept the roar of the crowd, grabbing his headset and yelling at Dross...] SR: People always get this wrong, Drossy! I don't have the power because I have the monkeys...I have the power BECAUSE I'LL LET THE MONKEYS LOOSE!!! [Huge Pop as Steve Roberts leaps from the announce table and struts his way to the ring...as every man in the ring...Chris Quigley, Billy Shakespeare, Requiem, Brody Thunder, Joe Petrow, Duncan Macbeth, Luke Steele, the Subway Psycho and Tim Turner...every man, save for Shadoe Rage...looks like a starving wolverine presented with a bloody porterhouse as the Soundbite makes his way to the apron.... The wrestlers charge, almost screaming a battle cry together as they move toward Roberts...Quigley reaches the apron-standing Soundbite first...but is grabbed from behind by Requiem...Requiem yelling that he belongs to him...the Subway Psycho bowling into both...Billy Shakespeare leaping atop the pile...the nine men now...clawing...at each other! All nine men in a heap in the middle of the ring, unable to decide amongst themselves whom it will be to gain retribution on the head of Roberts... The Soundbite remains on the apron, easing himself out of harm's way...no inclination whatsoever to actually get into the ring as the fans begin the chant, "Stall, Soundbite! Stall!...Stall, Soundbite! Stall!"...Roberts dancing on the apron...just able to escape a charging Luke Steele whose shoulderblock attempt was brunted by a Brody Thunder elbow...Tim Turner swings a crescent kick but it is swatted away by Requiem...Duncan Macbeth spins a forearm...which Chris Quigley stops by stab kicking the inner thigh of the Scotsman and inverted Russian leg sweeping him sharply to the canvas...a canvas on which each of the nine men now again pile...a full tilt, flat out, rubberneck inducing smash-up in the middle of the ring!!] TD: Steve Roberts...Steve Roberts is the mystery entrant in this match-up...and he is standing on the apron with all his friends...which means he is performing the Soundbite Stall all by himself! [As the nine men continue to roll around on the canvas...members of the L'il Soundbiters hurdle the guardrail, grabbing two tables from underneath the ring and placing them around ringside...the Soundbiters moving the retaining barrier as closely as possible to the ring, allowing the tables to be elevated, bridging the gap in those two spots between the ring and the rail...the tables suspended in the air as would be a drawbridge between the ring and the guardrail. Another roar from the crowd rises as the number...26...appears on the video wall...and, perhaps the most familiar music in all the IIWF blares over the PA...Blue Oyster Cult's..."Don't Fear the Reaper"...] TD: Here comes the Fury!! Here comes the IIWF icon Steve Kowalski!! [Huge roar for the denim jacket wearing, Skullpumping son of a Kowalski...the Fury grinning as he makes his way to the ring...along with a trashcan. The cluster on the floor continues...and the escape of Roberts is aided by Rage...Shadoe Rage taking every opportunity to punch and kick down any man who would stand...a wicked European uppercut to the jaw of Petrow...a knee to the groin of Shakespeare...a gouge of Tim Turner's eyes... Rage moves toward Roberts as Kowalski enters the ring, Shadoe extending his hand to the Soundbite...and then taking the trashcan shot to the top of the head by the Fury!! Shadoe slumps forward as Roberts slips inside the ring...and then...PUSHES Shadoe Rage over the top rope, out of the ring and onto the floor!! Huge...Huge POP for Steve Roberts as he then steps back onto the apron!!] SR: My name is the Original Black Jesus, Steve "Soundbite" Roberts! You took my nickname...prepare to die!! [The L'il Soundbiters descend on the now eliminated Rage...Shadoe shocked...but not too shocked to rip into the middle-aged men...Shadoe swearing at Roberts as he destroys...three...four...a half dozen, fat greasy L'il Soundbiters before the brown-shirted IIWF security force leads all of them away from the ringside area!!] TD: Steve Roberts has eliminated Shadoe Rage! Steve Roberts has eliminated Shadoe Rage and all Hell is breaking loose here at IIWF Forever!! [Tim Turner is the first to stand.... *THWACK* ...goes his head against the Kowalski trashcan! Kowalski doubles the arms... SKULL-PUMP!! ...Turner goes smashing into the trash can, and is easily scooped up by the Subway Psycho and tossed over the top rope...Billy Shakespeare is next.... *THWACK* ...followed by the Kowalski hook of the arms and the... SKULL-PUMP!! Chris Quigley grabs Shakespeare, tossing him over the top rope...but Shakespeare hangs on...pulling himself up and back in the ring...but only to be set for a Luke Steele clothesline...that misses!!! Luke Steele propelled over the top rope and to the outside!! A great effort by the Real Deal coming to an end and the IIWF fans at ringside standing and saluting as he makes his way up the aisle... The number...27...appears on the video wall followed by a shot of the wrestler's parking area at the Coliseum...the meat truck driven by Jimmy "Meatman" Steele crashes into a wall...the fans chanting the appropriate, "Meat...Meat...Meat...Meat..." as Steele staggers into the Coliseum!] TD: We did not know if the Meatman would be here tonight...great personal cost for the Meatman...Good God!...Steve Roberts is climbing the middle of the ropes!! [The crowd...the crowd begins to chant..."Moonsault...Moonsault... Moonsault"...in the direction of the Soundbite...Roberts looking quizzically at Dross, shrugging his shoulders and mouthing the word... "Moonsault?"... Jimmy Steele races to the ring as the Subway Psycho attacks the Fury...the Subway Psycho laying into Kowalski with big right hands...the Subway Psycho rocking the Fury back into the corner...Kowalski with a thumb to the eye...] TD: Someone has to say it, that will stop an elephant! [Kowalski with the boot to the midsection of the Psycho, the hook of the arms and the... SKULLPUMP!!! ...of the Subway Psycho...the Meatman grabbing the IIWF Legend as he hits the ring -- and tossing him over the top rope! ...Joe Petrow finds Brody Thunder...Joe Petrow with a waistlock...Brody Thunder with back elbows and a standing switch...Joe Petrow now with the elbows and a back boot to the knee of Thunder which allows Petrow to switch again, cinch up the waistlock and deliver a powerful series of unreleased German suplexes on Brody Thunder!! ...Requiem and Duncan Macbeth slug it out, toe-to-toe, Macbeth giving all he has against a man so much more physically imposing than is he...Requiem backing Duncan up with shots, then Irish whipping him, Macbeth reverses and ducks his head...Requiem coming off the back-ropes and DRIVING Duncan Macbeth's bent over head into the canvas with a rocker dropper!! ...Chris Quigley, nearing 45 minutes in the ring, is attempting to capitalise on Shakespeare's predicament...Billy Shakespeare completely out on his feet with only a woozy instinct keeping him holding onto those ropes... ...Steve Kowalski is bashing in the head of Jimmy Steele with that trashcan...Steele wobbling but not falling...Steele almost seeming to enjoy being hit with the can as he takes a big shot and asks for more...Steele blocking the trashcan...kicking Kowalski in the midsection...lifting him in the air and landing a TIGER DRIVER ON THE TRASH CAN!! "Meat!...Meat!!...Meat!!!...Meat!!!!" Steve Roberts stands on the bottom rope, just in front of the announce position as the fans wildly cajole him to moonsault...Roberts looking back at Dross with confusion in his face...] TD: Second rope, Steve Roberts. An Asai moonsault comes from the second rope... [The number...28...flashes across the video wall and a Wild POP goes up as the theme from John Carpenter's "Halloween" plays...] TD: I'm sure Steve Roberts would want to say...here is your winner! Here is Otto "The Butcher" Verhoeven! [Big Otto slowly makes his way, for the last time, to the IIWF ring... ...The Meatman continues his assault on the Fury, Steele ramming Kowalski's head repeatedly into the steel trashcan... ...Petrow's attempt at a Bullet Train to Hell was countered by Thunder...Thunder manoeuvring Petrow into piledriver position and PLANTING him into the canvas... ...Steve Roberts stands poised on the mid-rope...his fans yelling "Show us your Moonsault, Soundbite..." Roberts taking a deep breath... ...as Requiem and Chris Quigley, each abandoning their currently disabled opponents, simultaneously break into dead runs and hurl their bodies in the direction of the ropes...in the direction of Steve Roberts!!!...Requiem and Chris Quigley NAILING Roberts with a double shoulderblock that sends the Soundbite flipping over in a reasonable facsimile of an Asai moonsault and crashing right into Tim Dross!! "I-I-W-F...I-I-W-F...I-I-W-F...I-I-W-F!!!" Roberts staggers to his feet, the IIWF announce table destroyed as he helps a dishevelled Dross on with his headset...Roberts wiping a trickle of blood from the forehead of his tag team colleague as the two men look out over the screaming throng of the IIWF Coliseum...security quickly moving to clear the debris as the fairly breathless Dross and Roberts are again hooked to mic...] TD: Well, Steve Roberts -- you have wrestled in the last ever match in the IIWF, destroyed our broadcast position, been knocked ass over teakettle, pardon my language, in one of the weirdest looking Asai moonsaults ever seen in this sport and I do believe you have cut my forehead open, how in the hell do you feel right now, Steve Roberts? SR: Drossy -- it's been the best weekend of my life!! [Huge POP from the fans, Dross and Roberts each grinning as their chairs are replaced...Roberts now with a new set of pants and his customary leather jacket... In the ring...Requiem stands triumphantly, showing a highly irregular amount of emotion, he thrusts his arms to the air at the elimination of the Soundbite... And then he takes a shot to the midsection by Quigley...and another shot by Quigley... And then Requiem turns around...and runs straight into a Slaughterslam by Otto Verhoeven!! The entire ring again joins, Thunder and Petrow moving first...then Macbeth and the rubber legged Shakespeare...Kowalski and the Meatman follow...all join Verhoeven and Quigley as they attempt to toss the Requiem over the top rope and forever close the IIWF book on the scourge known as Genesis.... ...the video wall flashes...29...and the crowd counts it down... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... ["Hands of Death" by Rob Zombie and Alice Cooper blasts through the Coliseum to a huge pop as the black panted "Epitome of Evil" appears in the aisle...] TD: Serge Annis! Serge Annis had a war already this evening...and he is here at number 29! SR: Big Serge could win this thing, Drossy! I know what I'm talking about! TD: You did know who the mystery entrant was, as it turned out, Steve Roberts. SR: Damn straight I did, big man! I know about slugging percentage, NORAD, Shawnae Jebbia and "What Happened Was", Drossy -- and I damn sure knew about the mystery entrant! [The men in the ring have Requiem lifted in the air...swinging the former IIWF Champion once...swinging him twice...swinging him three...NO! NO! Serge Annis is there! Serge Annis is there and he is swinging! Annis levels Billy Shakespeare! Annis with a headbutt that drops Duncan Macbeth! Annis grabs the Meatman and hiptosses him ten feet toward the other side of the ring! Annis like the proverbial house afire -- and he don't need no water, let the Epitome of Evil burn... Annis with the double noggin knocker on former Champions Thunder and Kowalski...Annis ducking a Joe Petrow shot...grabbing a full nelson... and flinging him away with a full nelson slam!...Annis taking shots from Quigley and Otto...Serge Annis taking huge shots from Quigley and Otto...Annis getting double Irish whipped from the two men, ducking on the pass and then meeting the two men with a running double clothesline that knocks Quigley 360 degrees and lays Verhoeven flat to the canvas!!! Huge POP from the crowd as Serge Annis has cleaned house and now he approches his former stablemate Requiem!!!] TD: Amazing...Amazing display of athletic achievement...of pure, raw, unmitigated Power by the Epitome of Evil! SR: This makes me sick, Drossy! Sick, sick, sick...now this is why I'm retiring to a life of depravity; of Columbian blow, 14 hour naps and sex with underage runaways straight off the bus from Ohio, corn in their hair, stars in their eyes and an itch in their pants that only the Soundbite can cure. I got sunshine on a cloudy day, Drossy -- when it's cold outside, I gots the month of May! OBJ in the Hou-use! I've reclaimed my name! I'm the Kunta Kinte of the IIWF!! [Requiem nods, tentatively extending his hand toward Annis...who reaches out and then CLOTHESLINES REQIUIEM TO THE CANVAS!!! Big POP as Annis stomps away at Requiem!! Annis picking his former mentor up into the air and ROCKING him to the canvas with an Epitomizer Chokeslam!! Huge Pop as Annis turns toward the other wrestlers...and Requiem RISES FROM THE GROUND!! Requiem stands up and charges at the unseeing Annis! Requiem races at Serge...and is met with a Verhoeven big boot! Requiem backs away as Otto races past Annis, charging the stumbling Requiem and clotheslining him to the outside!!] TD: Requiem's gone!! Requiem's gone!! What in the world is this, Steve Roberts?! [The lights flicker...and then rise again to find the Deathbringer at ringside! The Deathbringer drops to a knee...extending a hand toward Requiem...and the Angel of Destruction accepts!!! The two men raising their hands to the air as the lights flicker again and both men vanish... The men in the ring stand...seeming to take a split-second to shake the moment off...not yet beginning to battle as the number...30...flashes over the video wall... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... The crimson words... ANYONE ANYWHERE ANYTIME ...appear on the video wall as the red-gloved warrior Creed, the words "IIWF Forever" burned on his chest, limps as rapidly as he can down to the ring to an enormous, enormous POP from the collected!] TD: This is number 30! Creed, who vacated the World Championship just before this match after his storybook victory over Serge Annis, is in his final day ever in this sport -- and can finally go home, Steve Roberts! SR: He'll be going home early, Drossy -- the crippled kid's a goner -- and...what the hell is he doing!!! [Creed goes to the seated IIWF President Daniel Spreadbury, ripping away from him the World Championship belt and taking it into the ring!! The nine other men still alive, still able to be crowned IIWF Champion Forever, watch as Creed climbs to the ring...setting the belt down, once again, squarely in its middle and then yelling out... "You want Creed? You bitches want Creed? Come get Creed!" And they do. Creed is met with a rush from every man in the ring, except for Joe Petrow, who vainly attempts to hold back the tide...the wrestlers bowl Creed over, clotheslining him up and over the top rope and to the outside!] TD: Creed's gone! Creed's gone! We're down to nine competitors left!! What in the world...?! [Creed remains at ringside, nodding his head and then taking a place near the apron as, from the PA, plays one last song... Lionel Richie's "Truly".] SR: Oh no. TD: What's going on Steve Roberts...what's going on?! [Big POP as the 500+ pound Mexican The Smooth enters the aisle...leading the full compliment of the Jobber Justice Squad...Ned Norton, Jumpin' Jack, Scott Bloom, the Rotundos, the Barnacles and Bobby B. Goode... with the legendary El Super Gecko bringing up the rear... There is not a trace of mirth on the faces of any of these men who are all wearing t-shirts which read... "No Jobber Justice -- No Jobber Peace!" ...and each man is carrying a flaming torch!] TD: I don't have any idea what's going on now, Steve Roberts... SR: They've gone nuts, Drossy! The jobbers have lost whatever goddamn minds they had! Oh, man...Oh, man...Smooth's carrying a torch for someone other than the Commodores...this cannot be good! [Huge...Weird POP as the JJS, all ten member strong, hits the ring...Smooth standing at the head, the torch lighting up his peculiarly contorted face...Smooth yelling for all the jobbers to hear..."Smooth Like Truly..."... And the JJS attacks! Ned Norton nailing Billy Shakespeare, knocking the Spotlight to the canvas! Jumpin' Jack hits Duncan Macbeth, Macbeth rolling to the mat to put out the fire...the Rotundos double teaming Serge Annis and the Barnacles laying out Otto Verhoeven...fire, fire everywhere and not a drop to drink...Scott Bloom nails Chris Quigley and Bobby B. Goode decks Joe Petrow...Thunder and Kowalski rip down the Rotundos with clotheslines...but then take flaming torches to the back from the Barnacle Brothers...El Super Gecko leaping to the top rope and flying to the canvas with a flying Gecko-firerana that takes the Meatman off his feet...over the top rope...and to the outside! Huge POP from the fans, the roar of "I-I-W-F...I-I-W-F...I-I-W-F" as El Super Gecko eliminates the Meatman...the Jobber Justice Squad lays out the remaining roster of IIWF superstars with flaming torches...and now...in centre ring...The Smooth grabs the IIWF World Championship belt...and shockingly...amazingly...astoundingly raises it into the air!!] TD: The Jobber Justice Squad has taken control of this battle royal! The Smooth holds the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship belt! The Gecko has recorded an elimination...make your final peace, folks...the world may be coming to an end!! SR: Some say the world will end in fire...some say ice...I say, look at my boy Smooth with the big strap up in the air! You go, Smooth! You're a biscuit! It's your birthday! [IIWF security, administration, paramedics, and the fire department invade ringside, the flaming torches kicked outside by the four officials who sacrifice themselves for the ring...a ring which bears no damage from the moment in the sun carved out by and for the Jobber Justice Squad...a moment as Smooth is BOLTED to the canvas by a double legged takedown from Otto Verhoeven, Smooth dropping the belt in centre ring...The Butcher, the legendary, in every single sense of the word, Butcher, lifting...lifting...lifting the 500 pound Smooth up into the air...and TOSSING him over the top rope!! The other members of the JJS begin to flee...scurrying like appointees from a Presidential Administration...Bobby B. Goode and Ned Norton are each trapped by Serge Annis...Annis lifting each man by the neck and CHOKESLAMMING them over the top rope!!...the Barnacles bump into each other trying to escape, ramming into each other once, twice, three times before taking a double dropkick from Billy Shakespeare and Chris Quigley that take them over the top rope!!...the Rotundos each waddle toward the ropes...but not quickly enough to escape being caught by a Thunder Widowmaker and a Kowalski Skullpump...each man then tossing their Respective Rotundo over the rop rope...Jumpin' Jack takes a spear and a JoeHammer from Petrow while Scott Bloom is Claymore Frankensteinered... both men then tossed over the top rope.... Leaving only the Gecko. "You can't hurtssssssssss the lizardsssssss", hisses the Gecko, who is then grabbed by Otto Verhoeven...military pressed high into the air...and HURLED DEEP INTO THE COLISEUM CROWD! "I-I-W-F...I-I-W-F...I-I-W-F..." pops the crowd as only eight men remain in the ring, eight men...and one Championship Forever...the title belt lying pristinely in the middle of the ring...] TD: Eight men remain, Steve Roberts! Eight men remain for the biggest prize in the history of this sport! The unquestioned number one wrestling promotion of its time... SR: Everything. Else. Sucks. TD: ...closes its doors and offers _that_ belt. That belt which sits RIGHT THERE, right in the middle on the wrestling ring...right in the middle of the IIWF Coliseum...right smack dab in the middle of the professional wrestling universe is the IIWF Championship belt and there are only eight men in the entire world who have the possibility of possessing it Forever!! [It is Chris Quigley who breaks the wary circle around the title belt first...Quigley moving to centre ring and grabbing the IIWF Championship belt, Chris Quigley, as star-crossed a veteran wrestler as one would ever find, celebrating his near hour in this battle royal by grabbing the Forever belt and attempting to put it around his waist to a big POP from his fans...until he is grabbed by a Serge Annis waistlock, Serge Annis with the waistlock as the belt drops free...Quigley with the back elbows...Annis still with the waistlock...and Quigley with the standing switch and the released German suplex of the 300 pound former Champion!!...Quigley grabs Annis and shoves him toward the ropes... ..."Sychosys" Joe Petrow scoops up the Forever belt, the mercurial, the quixotic Joe Petrow's eagerness to be called IIWF Champion showing as he takes the belt and races to the corner...Petrow going to a mid-buckle and standing high...thrusting his red glove in the air as the Sycopaths chant, "Joe!...Joe!...Joe!...Joe!"...with the faintest, "Please... Please, Help Me..." heard from that section of the Coliseum. Petrow raising the belt high...until he is struck with a blow by Steve Kowalski...the belt bouncing back into the ring...the Fury climbing up to meet Petrow...Steve Kowalski making his way up the ropes as Petrow goes to the top buckle...Petrow with right hands that wobble the New Jesey Nightmare but that do not send him down...Steve Kowalski with huge chops that stop Petrow...Kowalski grabbing a facelock and SUPERPLEXING Petrow hard down to the canvas!...Kowalski grabs Petrow and tosses him toward the ropes... ...Billy Shakespeare, fan favourite, the beloved Billy Shakespeare now picks up the Forever belt to an enormous POP from his fans...Shakespeare raising the belt high...and CLOCKING it over the head of Brody Thunder!! Huge POP as Billy Shakespeare's bodyguard turned two-time IIWF Champion is laid out by the Championship belt...Shakespeare dropping the belt of his own volition and grabbing Thunder and moving him toward the ropes... ...the belt then grabbed by the marathon man, the fightin' Scotsman Duncan Macbeth, a full hour plus now into this battle royal, Macbeth drawing a pop as he clutches the belt to his chest and then TOSSES it to Otto Verhoeven, the Butcher catches the belt in front of his face and is then nailed with a standing dropkick by Macbeth! Duncan moves toward the staggered Butcher who responds with a boot to the midsection, Verhoeven lifting Macbeth high into the air and BRAINBUSTERING HIM ONTO THE CHAMPIONSHIP BELT!! Otto grabs Macbeth and tosses him toward the ropes...] TD: Eight men! Eight men, Steve Roberts and something here is about to explode soon! You can see the dressing room begin to empty, wrestlers from the back have joined administrative personnel and the ring will soon be surrounded by IIWF'ers...every single one of them wanting to be a part of this great moment...this historic moment...one of these eight men is going to be IIWF Champion Forever!! SR: I gotta call my bookie, Dross! I know who's going to win! I know...wait...I'm already eliminated...Can I still win this thing, Drossy? How about the Powerball? How about the 100 yard dash in the 1968 Mexico City Olympics! I gots winning needs, Dross! Neeeeeeeeeds! [Otto Verhoeven lays in heavy blows in the corner on Macbeth...almost... almost...able to toss him over the top rope...Otto rearing back with a huge haymaker right hand... Billy Shakespeare can't find enough power to move Brody Thunder over that top rope...Shakespeare forced to the Irish whip -- Thunder reversing and Shakespeare re-reversing, Thunder crashing into the buckles as Shakespeare charges... Serge Annis fights his way out of the corner...Annis pounding Chris Quigley back...Annis whipping Chris Quigley and then lifting the Quickstrike high into a military press!! Serge Annis with a gorilla press that he pumps once...twice...three pumps of the press and he readies the heave... Steve Kowalski clubs faster and faster and fasterandfasterandfaster forearms to the chest of Sychosys...Petrow being pummelled in the corner...Petrow sliding, Petrow sliding over the top rope!!!] TD: Otto nails the right hand! Macbeth grabs the Butcher's neck! Macbeth pulls...Macbeth snapmares Otto Verhoeven OVER THE TOP ROPE!!!...SERGE ANNIS HURLS CHRIS QUIGLEY DEAD INTO MACBETH!!!! [Huge POP as the Butcher falls to the floor!!! Duncan Macbeth falls to the floor!!!! And Chris Quigley HANGS ON to the ropes!!! Quigley dangling outside the ropes!!!] TD: Shakespeare is backdropped OVER THE TOP! Thunder backdrops Shakespeare over the top!! But Shakespeare stays on his feet!! Shakespeare stays on his feet and on the apron and climbs the outside of the turnbuckles...Thunder climbs the turnbuckles...both men standing on the top rope! Brody Thunder and Billy Shakespeare are standing on the top rope... There's Joe Petrow!! Petrow breaks away from Kowalski and reverse spears Annis!!! Annis is flying toward Quigley!!! [Shakespeare and Thunder each teeter...Thunder throws a right hand which Shakespeare slips, causing Thunder to double over, Shakespeare leaps aboard Thunder's neck with a hurricanrana.... ...Quigley ducks down and Annis flies out over the top rope!! ...Thunder grabs Shakespeare!! Thunder takes control of Shakespeare!! Thunder... POWERBOMBS Shakespeare to the outside!!!!] TD: We're down to four!! We are down to four!! Good God!! Good God!! Four men remain in IIWF Forever!! [The Coliseum roar intensifies, not just from the stands, but from outside the ring, which is now surrounded by IIWF wrestlers who pound their hands upon the apron. "Sychosys" Joe Petrow moves to centre ring, kneeling before the Forever Belt as if in prayer...Petrow with a ritualistic chant...interrupted by his being kicked in the back by Steve Kowalski!! "Get yer ass up, Buddha-boy", yells the Fury as he kicks at Petrow again. Sychosys stands, a rage taking over his face as he blasts the Fury with a right hand! Petrow turns toward Thunder and doubles him over with a boot to the midsection and a lift up for a powerbomb...but Quigley clips his knee! Chris Quigley clips the knee of Sychosys and sends he and Thunder toppling to the canvas! Quigley works quickly, with a step-over toe hold on the fallen Petrow a turnover and a flash Quickstriker that is broken up as Quigley is ripped down by a Kowalski clothesline!! Kowalski is immediately smacked by a Thunder loaded elbowsmash, rotated and dropped with a Hangman's neckbreaker! Petrow to his feet...grabbing ahold of Quigley... Kowalski grabs the Lone Wolf... Petrow and Kowalski with the Irish whip of their opposite numbers into the centre of the ring -- double reverse -- Petrow and Kowalski COLLIDE dead in the middle of the ring! Thunder and Quigley each grabbing waistlocks as Petrow and Kowalski stagger backward...Thunder and Quigley each with side waistlocks that bring Kowalski and Petrow over the top with dangerous backdrops!! Thunder joins Quigley, both men grabbing at Joe Petrow, whipping him nearside and backdropping him up and over the top rope!!... But Petrow remains on the apron, Petrow leaping to the top rope and CLOCKING Thunder and Quigley with a split-legged double dropkick!!] TD: Petrow's booted to the midsection by Kowalski!! The Fury kicks Joe Petrow to the midsection...he's got the arms!!!!! SKULLPUMP!! [HUGE, HUGE POP as Steve Kowalski Skullpumps Joe Petrow into the canvas, Chris Quigley moving to toss Petrow out and Quigley is doubled over by a Thunder boot and CATTLEBUSTER DDT'd sharply to the mat!!! Both Petrow and Quigley laid out cold on the canvas!! Huge POP, the twenty thousand strong fans in the IIWF Coliseum chanting "Jay Dub!...Jay Dub!... Jay Dub!...Jay Dub!" perhaps for the final time, in recognition of the originator of the Cattlebuster, the first IIWF Champion J.W. Hardin...the roar increases as heads begin to turn toward the Syndicate box, "HAR-DIN...HAR-DIN...HAR-DIN" roar the Coliseum fans! TD: Listen to these people!! SR: I's gettin' all misty, Drossy! Throw that piece of Quitley over the top rope! [Thunder grabs Petrow as Kowalski moves to the center of the ring... Kowalski grabbing the Forever Belt and raising it high above his head! Thunder drops Petrow...racing toward Kowalski and grabbing an end of the strap from his hand...Thunder and Kowalski each with a piece of the Championship belt that they have won an unmatched two times apiece... Thunder and Kowalski each holding an end of the Forever Belt...and Thunder and Kowalski beginning to brawl!! Thunder and Kowalski using their free hands to brawl right in the centre of the ring!! Thunder and Kowalski clubbing each other with huge right hands as the crowd roars...roars...roars its approval...neither man willing to give up possession of the IIWF World Heavyweight Championship belt...neither man willing to stop laying into the other...Thunder and Kowalski wildly throwing right hands...each oblivious to any single thing in the world except for each other and for that title belt...] TD: AND THEY'RE DROPKICKED OVER THE TOP ROPE! PETROW AND QUIGLEY... PETROW AND QUIGLEY HAVE ELIMINATED THUNDER AND KOWALSKI!!! GOOD GOD!! GOOD GOD!! TWO LEFT!! TWO MEN ARE LEFT!!! [Huge...Huge POP as Steve Kowalski and Brody Thunder are each dropkicked over the top rope and to the outside by a rising Joe Petrow and Chris Quigley! Kowalski and Thunder shockingly eliminated as the Forever Championship belt flies out over the top rope... And lands on one of the outside tables. Chris Quigley doesn't stand on ceremony, bull-rushing Petrow and burrowing him deep into the corner! Quigley with knife edge chops, deep boots to the midsection and a cross-corner whip -- reverse -- and Petow sends Quigley hard shoulder first into the corner...and ramming into the ringpost! Quigley staggers back...Quigley staggers back into a Petrow shotgun lariat that lifts Quigley off his feet.... ...up and over the top rope... ...where Quigley lands on the apron! Big POP as Chris Quigley staggers up the ropes...Chris Quigley so dangerously climbing the ropes from the outside...Joe Petrow following from the inside...Quigley climbing and Petrow climbing...Quigley nailing a big right hand...and another big right hand...and another big right hand that drops Petrow to the canvas!! Quigley to the top buckle, Quigley sets himself, Quigley IS CROTCHED over the top turnbuckle by a Petrow dive against the ropes!! Joe Petrow climbs to the top rope...Petrow grabbing ahold of Quigley... Quigley attempting to shift his weight...Petrow lifting as Quigley pulls...] TD: SUPAHFISHAMBUSTAH!!! SUPAHFISHAMANBUSTAH!!! [Wild, Wild POP as Joe Petrow hits the superfishermanbuster on Chris Quigley into the middle of the ring, Petrow gathering up Quigley and tossing him over the top rope!!...but Quigley gets the head scissors!!! Chris Quigley with the headscissors and flings Petrow over the top rope as Quigley...as Quigley...as Quigley... HANGS ON!!!] TD: GOOD GOD!! GOOD GOD!! JOE PETROW'S ON THAT TABLE!! JOE PETROW IS ON THAT TABLE!! SR: THANKYOU, THANKYOU, THANKYOU!! [Crazy POP as Petrow's toss was turned into a Quigley head scissors that flung Petrow to the unsteady safety of one of the tables bridging the gap between ring and guardrail...Petrow moving unsteadily to his feet... Quigley still hanging from those ropes inches above Coliseum floor... Petrow grabbing at the IIWF Forever Belt which sits on the table as Petrow precariously stands atop the wobbly table!] TD: Petrow on the outside!!...Quigley dangling from the ropes!! Two men left in this Eternal Battle Royal for the IIWF Championship Forever!!! SR: That table's gonna go, Drossy! Petrow's gotta get back in the ring!! That table is gonna go!!! [Petrow shakily, slowly, inches his way from the table...Quigley, shakily, slowly tries to pull himself back upon the apron...Two desperate men scouring their souls for one glint of inspiration that might allow them to be Champion Forever...Quigley desperately eyeing that Championship belt...Quigley yearning with everything that he is for that Championship belt...Quigley pulling himself up...Quigley still suspended in the air...Quigley KICKS AT THE TABLE!! Chris Quigley kicks at the table!! Chris Quigley lifts his flailing leg upward and kicks at the table!! Chris Quigley knocking the unsteady table as Joe Petrow begins to wobble...Joe Petrow, blood in his eye and Forever Belt gripped vice-like in his hand, begins to teeter...Chris Quigley now getting a foot back on the apron!...as Joe Petrow...Joe Petrow begins to fall...Quigley able to push his way from the apron to meet Petrow!!...Petrow tossing the Forever Belt high up into the air as both men leap toward heaven... ............................................. Chris Quigley grabbing the belt!!! ................................. Joe Petrow grabbing the ropes!!!!!! ................................. ........................ And Chris Quigley crashing through the table... and TO... THE... FLOOR!!!] TD: IT'S OVER!! IT'S OVER!! SR: JOE BY-GOD PETROW IS IIWF CHAMPION FOREVER!! [Tumultuous POP as Petrow falls between the ropes and into the ring... the crowd rising together as Joe Petrow... "Sychosys" Joe Petrow...the "Dark Saviour" Joe Petrow...the "Heartbreak Kid" Joe Petrow stands shockingly, unbelievably...alone in the ring as the IIWF World Heavyweight Champion Forever...Joe Petrow in a daze...Joe Petrow mouth agape, not believing its true...Joe Petrow, his one remaining passion... his passion to be the recognised as the best...his passion to be recognised as the champion of the world...his passion to etch himself a permanent place in the pantheon of wrestling legends...now MET! Joe Petrow staring at the roaring Sychopaths who rush the guardrail... the chants of "Pe-trow...Pe-trow...Pe-trow!"... filling this venerable building...Joe Petrow raising his hands to the sky and is captured by a thousand flashbulbs sharing in this moment to keep forever... HUGE SHOCKED POP!!] TD: IT'S WARNETT!! WARNETT FROM THE CROWD!!! HE WASN'T ELIMINATED!! GOOD GOD!! GOOD GOD!! [From behind, a gutsy, gutsy, heavily-bandaged Marty Warnett, slid underneath the bottom rope earlier in the night, now runs into the ring...runs up to the still dazed Petrow...and as Sychosys turns around...Warnett... ...SUPERKICKS HIM OVER THE TOP ROPE!!!] TD: GOOD GOD!! GOOD GOD!! SR: SYCHOSYS HANGS ON, DROSSY!! SYCHOSYS HANGS ON!! [Petrow grabs the top rope as he flies over, Petrow quickly, instinctually lunging his way through the ropes as Warnett quickly charges him...Warnett swinging another superkick which misses as Petrow ducks and BACKDROPS WARNETT OVER THE TOP ROPE... AND TO THE SECOND TABLE... ...WHICH BREAKS!!] TD: IT'S REALLY OVER!! THE ETERNAL BATTLE ROYAL IS OVER!! JOE PETROW!! JOE PETROW!! [The POP again rises, Petrow stumbling into the ring and looking anxiously on all sides as Sparkplug makes the announcement...] SL: Your winner...and...IIWF WORLD HEAVWEIGHT CHAMPION FOREVER... "SYCHOSYS" JOE PETROW!! [The POP reaches a new level, Joe Petrow receiving a roar from the fans, receiving the applause of his peers as the locker room has emptied, dozens of wrestlers, many in their street-clothes, surrounding the ring... Marty Warnett, so badly injured earlier in the evening, helped to his feet and shrugging his shoulders with a laugh as he receives congratulatory pats on the back at ringside... And into the ring walks Chris Quigley! "Quickstrike" Chris Quigley carries the IIWF Championship belt...Chris Quigley walking to his rival... his rival who has, by the skin of his teeth defeated him again... Chris Quigley surviving in this last ever IIWF match for over an hour and now Chris Quigley taking one final look at the IIWF Championship belt... ...And handing it to Joe Petrow! The twenty thousand strong crowd, many of them openly weeping now...many of these great, loyal, truly wonderful men and women who have supported this company for its full two years of existence now weeping as the roar builds... "I-I-W-F!!...I-I-W-F!!...I-I-W-F!!" And the World Champion Forever is handed a microphone, although so deafening is the chant that Petrow is forced to wait, standing there in mid-ring, sweat pouring off his battered body, forced to wait before the crowd has quietened sufficiently for him to speak:] JP: Ladies and gentlemen...as I stand before you today...I can promise you all one thing. The IIWF is going into a new phase of existence. One not of canvas, concrete, [pats his belt] and metal, but of the heart, the soul, and the mind. From this day forward, the IIWF may only be what you people call a memory...but I promise you one thing: the IIWF... [Sychosys raises the IIWF World's title belt high over his head:] JP: WILL NEVER DIE!! [Joe waits for the phenomenal pop from the crowd to die down before continuing.] JP: Now...what I want right now, is for all the wrestlers down there to come up here, that means all of you. This isn't time for our little squabbles, this is above all that. I'm talking about the Brody Thunders, the Steve Kowalskis, the Creeds, the J.W. Hardins, the Casey Jameses, even the Chris Quigleys, the Shadoe Rages, even the jobbers, and yes, even Maurice McArthur. 'Cause we ain't leaving here tonight until each and every one of these guys holds this belt over their heads and claims their place in IIWF history. This isn't a funeral! This night ain't no god-damned funeral! It's a celebration! And we... are gonna party All Night Long! ["All Night Long" by Lionel Richie plays over the PA system as wrestlers tentatively begin to clamber up onto the apron from the positions at ringside. Petrow turns to his long-time nemesis Chris Quigley, still beside him in the ring, and hands the belt back to him. Quigley takes a look at the hunk of gold and leather... and thrusts it above his head to a huge pop from the capacity crowd! Steve "the Fury" Kowalski is next into the ring, followed by Brody Thunder, Serge Annis, Duncan and Andrew Macbeth... and before long, the ring is filled with IIWF superstars, each man holding the glittering title belt for a few moments and displaying it to the fans, who pop for every new pair of hands to touch the strap.] TD: The spirit of camaraderie between these men is truly remarkable, Steve Roberts. All this just goes to show that, whatever their differences may have been inside the squared circle, the men we see before us now, here tonight, are going to miss this organisation. SR: I's gettin' all misty again, Dross. Joe Petrow is the IIWF World Heavyweight Champion forever... and the entire goddamn roster is in the ring with him. TD: Petrow now, holding the ropes open for the officials at ringside... in comes Sparkplug Lee... oh my! [Duncan and Andrew Macbeth scoop Sparkplug Lee up onto their shoulders as the ring announcer enters the ring, Sparky looking mildly alarmed -- and not a little nauseous -- as he is paraded around the ring that is heaving with dozens of the IIWF's finest. He manages a wave to the crowd before asking to be put down again. Petrow now beckons to the staff seated around the timekeeper's table... up comes Poutine Janois, still holding the Intercontinental Championship, who comes face to face with Steve Kowalski the moment he steps through the ropes. Janois and Kowalski regard one another, and some fans immediately break into a chant of "SKULL-PUMP! SKULL-PUMP!" Kowalski, however, just smirks -- and shakes Poutine's hand. Big pop! Next to enter the ring is Dennis "Griff" Griffing, who is assisted by two of his brown-shirted security staff in lifting Roughrider Roosevelt's wheelchair into the ring, and depositing the veteran grappler himself safely back in the chair on the other side of the ropes. Roosevelt still clings to the IIWF Tag Team Championship belts, and Griffing still clutches the Cruiserweight title. The fans pop once more as figures are seen coming down the aisle, Tiger Claw and Brian Lau leading the way, followed by Abie and Zed... each of whom is pedalling frantically on a red tricycle! Big pop!] TD: Here come the last ever Intercontinental and World Tag Team Champions, Steve Roberts... and they're bringing some toys with them! [Abie and Zed stop at ringside, tossing the tricycles into the ring. One is caught, appropriately enough, by Steve Kowalski, who immediately mounts a turnbuckle and hoists the trike above his head. Huge pop, and chants of "MOON-SAULT! MOON-SAULT! MOON-SAULT!" Kowalski again smirks, and yells out, "I don't do no goddamned moonsault!" before tossing the tricycle into the crowd! The camera catches the trike being passed over the heads of the sea of fans lining the floor of the Coliseum... and then catches sight of another fabled object in the stands. A large, battered, reinforced table is being passed to the ring... ...it is the Bulldog Brown table.] SR: Dammit, Dross, that table just won't die! How many times has that thing been patched up?! TD: I have no idea, Steve Roberts -- but something tells me that this particular table will live forever. Abie and Zed now, in the ring... and they're wrestling with ol' Roughrider for those belts! [The Alphabet Boys eventually persuade Roosevelt to do a swap, Abie pulling a handful of sugar out of his pocket and rubbing it into the veteran's scant hair as Zed snatches the belts away. Immediately, the ABoys begin a tug-of-war over the belts as the other IIWF athletes look on, amused... and then Zed seems to have a moment of inspiration. He motions to Abie that they should have a competition to see how far they can throw their belts... and Abie enthusiastically agrees!] TD: Oh my goodness, Steve Roberts! The Alphabet Boys are going to throw those belts out into the crowd! SR: They're giving them back to the people, Dross! Closing down sale -- everything must go, baby dolls! [Zed mounts one corner, and Abie mounts another. The crowd chants as they wind up to make their throws... "ONE! TWO! _THREE_!" And as the crowd cheers, both Alphabet Boys hurl their belts into the crowd, the gold plates glittering as they spin, spin, spin into the sea of humanity below, the titles too being passed over the heads of the fans until they are no longer visible. Returning to the centre of the ring, Abie and Zed immediately begin arguing over who won the throw. Tiger Claw takes the Intercontinental Championship from Poutine Janois, and looks to the crowd. They cheer lustily again, so Claw makes his way to one corner, climbs to the top turnbuckle, and, taking one last look at the belt he has held a record-breaking four times... throws it as far as he can out into the stands! Huge pop!] TD: Claw tossing the Intercontinental Championship into the fans... and Ronnie Paris, the third generation Texan athlete... Paris has the Cruiserweight belt! [Ronnie Paris thrusts the Cruiser title above his head... and then follows suit, throwing the belt into the crowd, where it soon disappears. Petrow now motions to the aisle... and the crowd give a big pop as Larry Morton appears through the curtain -- carrying Becky LaRue like a bridegroom carrying his new wife across the threshold! The fans whoop and whistle as Morton, clearly struggling with the weight, staggers down the aisle, Becky waving regally to the capacity crowd... until she is unceremoniously dropped by her erstwhile colleague. Big pop! Becky picks herself up, smiles widely to the crowd... and raises her right leg behind her, doubling Morton over with a devastating Greco-Roman back Stiletto heel groin kick. LaRue and Morton make their way down to the ring, Becky being welcomed through the ropes by Marty Warnett, and Larry being suplexed into the ring by the Alphabet Boys. Both Becky and Larry soon find themselves hoisted up onto the shoulders of various superstars and paraded around the ring, Larry doing his best to smile for the fans.] TD: Larry Morton and Becky LaRue, ladies and gentlemen -- a truly great broadcast partnership. SR: Aw, they ain't got nothin' on us, ol' buddy. At least, they ain't got nothin' on the Soundbite. But I guess it's been good to have you along for the ride, Dross. TD: I'm glad you feel that way, Steve Roberts. Again, Joe Petrow motions to the IIWF President at ringside... and Mr. Spreadbury climbs the steps. He enters the ring... and he too is up on the shoulders of Brody Thunder and Steve Kowalski! [The fans cheer as the IIWF President, looking somewhat incongruous on the shoulders of two men with whom he has not had the smoothest of relationships, accepts the gesture with a nervous smile. Now more objects begin to be thrown out into the crowd... the 1000+ page leather-bound IIWF rule book is tossed into the stands... one of the defunct United States Championship belt... a turnbuckle is ripped loose from one corner, and that too is thrown out to the clamouring fans... somebody grabs a TV monitor from one of the foreign announce tables, and that too soon finds its way into the stands... the inflatable sex doll known only as Troy is also batted over their heads like so many balloons... somehow, Creed's left glove is tossed into the sea of fans... ...and as the pieces of IIWF paraphernalia continue to rain down on the crowd, Joe Petrow moves to the side of the ring nearest the broadcast table, and beckons to both Tim Dross and "Soundbite" Steve Roberts.] SR: Are you ready for your close-up, Dross? TD: I guess this is our call, Steve Roberts. Folks, we're going to go join the throng in the squared circle in just a moment, but before we go... well, it's been a hell of a ride, Steve. SR: You ain't wrong, Dross. Just remember what I always say, "If it ain't the Double Eye, it's just make believe." TD: Folks, thanks for being with us over the past twenty-seven months. We've seen high drama, high emotion, high tragedy... we've seen triumph, we've seen adversity, we've seen injury... we've seen it all. SR: Except nipples, Dross. We've seen no nipples. TD: Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, marks the end of the most wonderful -- and the most terrible -- two years of all our lives. And we wouldn't change one moment of it. SR: Aw, you's makin' me all misty, Dross. TD: For "Soundbite" Steve Roberts, for the IIWF President, and for every one of the people who has given of himself to this organisation, to the _mighty_ IIWF, this is Tim Dross, saying: goodnight... and goodbye. [Tim Dross and Steve Roberts remove their headsets and stand. Steve Roberts grins at his colleague as he throws his headset out into the "L'il Soundbiters" behind the table... and then the two men make their way up the ringsteps and into the ring. Steve Roberts mounts the turnbuckles in one corner of the ring, and begins teasing the crowd by removing his trademark leather jacket. "THROW IT! THROW IT! THROW IT!" comes the chant from the fans in the stand. Roberts clutches his jacket to his chest possessively, and then a grin spreads across his face. "What the hell, I can buy another one!" he yells, and then throws the jacket out into the stands, thrusting his fists into the air as he does so! Dross and Roberts join the mass of IIWF superstars that pack the ring, the strains of Lionel Richie's hit "All Night Long" still ringing out over the PA system, and the chants of the twenty thousand strong crowd resonating in the air: "I-I-W-F! I-I-W-F! I-I-W-F! I-I-W-F! I-I-W-F! I-I-W-F! I-I-W-F!" The shot cuts to an overhead view of the ring, pulling out towards the roof of the IIWF Coliseum, a panorama of partying, of celebration, of bittersweet jubilation, opening up below. And as the spotlights sweep over the capacity crowd, over the ring, full of the finest athletes the sport has ever seen... Fade. Two words appear on the screen: IIWF FOREVER And then they are gone.] +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= I * I * W * F =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+ | President: Daniel Spreadbury | | iiwf@sisko.demon.co.uk | +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- http://www.sisko.demon.co.uk -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+