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GIW TV 2-01-02; Fourth show by Mike Gilliland
Topic Started: Apr 10 2008, 05:13 PM (458 Views)
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[The credits for Good Times fade to black.. as darkness envelopes the screen for a few brief
moments. With that, a logo displaying "GIPA 68" comes on the channel blue on white.. a simple
yet effective diamond shape making the logo. A voiceover hits the air..]

V/O: You are watching Grand Isle Public Access.. channel Sixty-Eight. Coming up next..
watch the hard-hitting action of Grand Isle's newest local company.. Grand Isle Wrestling!! Two
hours of jam-packed southern style wrestling at it's finest! Only here.. on channel
Sixty-Eight!

[And with that the logo disappears.. and the camera opens on "Dirty" Doyle Woodall, clad in
baggy blue jeans, a thick black leather belt, a black T-shirt that reads "White Trash Nation",
and a blue bandana doo-rag tied around his unruly black hair, standing in front of a row of
lockers. A smoldering cigar is clenched between Woodall's teeth, sending a cloud of smoke up
and around his head. Woodall removes the cigar and addresses the camera...]

"They say that it ain't the size o' the dog in the fight, it's the size o' the fight in the
dog. And it don't take a damned rocket scientist to see that the Dirty One's goin' into the
next round o' the Gee-Eye-Dubya championship tourney just a bit of an underdog. Hell, there's
more'n' a few folks sayin' that the Dirty One ain't got a snowball's chance in hell o' takin'
down the bad man from the Valley O' The Blind and hell, they just might be right. But when the
Dirty One and the Bad Eye walk that aisle in step in between them four posts, one thang's for
sure..."

[Woodall grins wickedly...]

"... it ain't gonna be for the faint o' heart."

[Woodall takes a drag from his smoke...]

"Oh yeah, yer reputation precedes ya, McBaine. If yer career ended tomorrow, ya'd go down in
history as one o' the toughest sumbitches to ever step foot in the squared circle. Six-six and
three-hundered plus o' just plain nasty. A man that's ended more careers than old age and hard
livin' combined. Ever'body that is somebody in this bus'ness has stood across the ring from ya,
and when it was all said and done, most of 'em came out o' that fight a helluva lot worse for
the wear. Yeah, yer definitely one helluva tough bastard, McBaine, there ain't no doubt about
that..."

[Woodall glares into the camera...]

"... but ya ain't unbeatable."

[Woodall takes another drag from his cigar...]

"The Dirty One's seen yer kind before, McBaine. A corn-fed sumbitch with a healthy appetite for
dishin' out misery and the constitution to take a little bit o' pain yerself. Ya bring the
fight like just about nobody else around, McBaine, and the Dirty One can respect that, prob'ly
more'n' anybody else here. But if yer thinkin' yer just gonna waltz into the Sand Dollar, throw
a few haymakers and swing a couple o' chairs, then waltz right outta there clutchin' the
winner's paycheck, ya damned sure got another thing comin'. The Dirty One ain't never rolled
over and played dog for nobody..."

[Woodall glares into the camera...]

"... and I ain't about to start with you."

[Woodall takes another drag from his smoke...]

"Ya see, McBaine, I really don't give a damn about where ya been or who ya beat or how many
straps ya claimed or how many ya put in the rest home. All the Dirty One gives a damn about is
gittin' to the finals o' that tournament and takin' my shot at bein' the first man to wear the
Gee-Eye-Dubya Heavyweight Championship strap. And the way I see it, the Dirty One ain't gonna
be standin' across the ring from yer reputation, big man, I'm gonna be standin' across the ring
from the man hisself. And while the Dirty One may not be able to beat the legend..."

[Woodall glares wickedly...]

"... I can damned sure beat the man."

[Woodall takes another drag from his smoke...]

"There ain't nothin' left to it but to do it, McBaine. Lace those boots up tight, bring yer
reputation and yer big ass down to that ring, and let's git it on. This fight's gonna be one
for the ages, sunshine, and I don't know about you, but the Dirty One's bringin' ever' bit o'
fight he's got. Win or lose, McBaine, by the time this fight is over, one thang's for sure...
yer gonna know ya've been in one helluva fight. And when yer on yer death bed and thinkin' back
over yer career, yer damned sure gonna remember "Dirty" Doyle Woodall. Come hell..."

[Woodall glares into the camera...]

"... or high water."

[Woodall jams the cigar back into his teeth as the scene fades to black.]

[The screen remains black.. as a guitar slowly strums in the background.. unfamiliar at first,
that is until it starts to hit it's opening riff.. it's got to be "Born On the Bayou" by
Credence Clearwater Revival. The camera then fades in to a dirty.. dreary.. and dark inside
of a building.. four big overhead lights directing itself towards a rather cheap but sturdy
looking wrestling ring.]

#Now, when I was just a little boy,#
#Standin' to my Daddy's knee,#
#My poppa said, "Son, don't let the man get you#
#Do what he done to me."#
#'Cause he'll get you,#
#'Cause he'll get you now, now.#

[The camera pans closer to ringside as we see a good number of fans standing at their foldout
chairs.. one hundred fifty strong.. moths swarm up at the lights in masses as we now pinpoint
our attention to ringside. A steel barricade surround the ring with about six feet of room
between ring and barricade.. extending off the northeast portion that hits a makeshift
portal/wall that will be used as the entranceway.]

#And I can remember the fourth of July,#
#Runnin' through the backwood, bare.#
#And I can still hear my old hound dog barkin',#
#Chasin' down a hoodoo there.#
#Chasin' down a hoodoo there.#

[At the southwest corner inside the barricade sits a table at ringside. This is the spot where
our two announcers will call tonight's action.. neither man at their seats for they are in the
ring as usual.. the fans starting to get a pretty decent murmur and various chants going..
ranging from "G-I-W! G-I-W!" to "Grand Isle! Grand Isle!".. yeah, the genius.]

#Born On The Bayou;#
#Born On The Bayou;#
#Born On The Bayou.#

[After taking a good look at the ring and it's surroundings.. we focus on the fans and what is
inside the open-top Sand Dollar Marina. Off to the far south wall of the marina lies a long
and dimly lit bar.. and yes, it is a full stocked Louisiana bar.. to ensure the rowdiest crowds
as possible of course!]

#Wish I was back on the Bayou.#
#Rollin' with some Cajun Queen.#
#Wishin' I were a fast freight train,#
#Just a chooglin' on down to New Orleans.#

[Then.. a cheap graphic comes up on your television.. showing up simply "Grand Isle Wrestling
02-02-02" in yellow.]

#Born On The Bayou;#
#Born On The Bayou;#
#Born On The Bayou.#

[The music fades away as the fans cheer quite madly.. as mad as one hundred fifty people can in
somewhat close quarters. The camera focuses straight on the two men in the ring.. one wearing
a cheap black suit and tie.. standing about 5'5" and weighing no more than one hundred and
forty pounds.. his short black hair combed forward neatly.. very professional looking. And the
other.. well.. he's about 6'3".. wiry and shady looking.. has long brown hair and a cheap grin.
He sports a brown sports jacket and jeans. These men must be the battery.. plus.. they have
microphones in hand.]

[The shorter and more professional looking of the two smiles cordially and then let's out an
excited holler.]

JR: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN.. WELCOME TO GRAND ISLE WWWWWWRESTLING!!!!!


[MONSTER GRAND ISLE, LOUISIANA POP!!!]


JR: I'm Jacob Rodgers and alongside me as always is the most controversial color man in the
business.. Dirk Davidson!


[BOOOOOOO!! in which Davidson reacts with a big middle finger to all the audience.. inciting
even louder boos. Rodgers just sighs as Davidson smiles at his meager accomplishment.]


DD: Goddamn ingrates. Hee-haw motherfu-

JR: Dirk!

DD: Yeah, yeah. I'm just a bit riled up after having to watch that waste of space Doyle
Woodall [Pop!] talk the trash about the greatest man in our company, "Bad Eye" McBaine.

[Booo!!]

JR: Well tonight.. only one man will be moving on to the finals of our Heavyweight title
tournament.. in what is being dubbed our first ever GRAND ISLE STREET FIGHT!!


[BIG TIME POP!!!!!]


DD: It'll be the "Bad Eye". Let's face it.. he's been in these pressure situations.. this
ain't no Kentucky backyard wrestling organization that Doyle Wo-

JR: Dirk!

DD: For once these people may agree with me.. am I right?

[Pop!]

JR: Oh lord. Anyhow.. besides our HUGE main event.. the other semi-final of the tournament
goes down tonight as well as Russ Brady tangles with the monster Leviticus Nelson!

DD: Oh, who cares? Bobby Ray Wilkins got screwed out of his chances.. it's not fair damnit!

JR: All is fair in love and war, Dirk.

DD: Eat me, Jake.

JR: City Jack looks to continue his hot streak tonight as he faces the suicidal hardcore legend
Tarantella in what we've heard is Tarantella's make it or break it match!

[Pop!]

DD: That's right fans.. for once.. I may have to root for Tubs McFatty for if he wins.. no more
Tarantella!

[Booo!!]

DD: HAHAHAHAHA!!

JR: Tonight we will also hear from that traitor.. that backstabbing punk Ryan Faith as he's
sure to tell us why he turned his back on the world last month.. as he is scheduled to face off
against Jaime Roth!

[Pop!]

DD: Christ! Roth? Seriously.. what does anybody see in this kid? Sure.. he's followed around
by a grade-A piece of tail.. but he can't wrestle.. he has poor taste in clothing.. and equally
poor taste in music. It's mindboggling!

JR: And to kick things off we have a double debut between a family man and overall really nice
guy in Robert Kellan and a street smart..

DD: You can say it.

JR: Heavy drinker.. in Lucas McCall.

DD: I met Lucas backstage.. he's the man!

JR: I bet he is.. speaking of McCall and Kellan.. I've been told they met each other just a few
minutes ago in the back.. and our cameras caught the exchange.

[Backstage and we open not to a wrestler like we normally would. No, no, instead we open to a
fairly attractive, brunette (~!)...and her son (....). The brunette, of average height with
shoulder length hair, wearing a red turtle neck shirt and long black skirt, stands holding
hands with the short sandy blond haired boy, the two chatting away like mothers and sons do.
Oh and if you hadn't have guessed it already...they're mother and son.]

[The two continue talking, that is until from the side comes GIW's newest recruit, Lucas McCall
creeping like the pimp he is. Wearing a Boston Celtics #33 jersey(LARRY LEGEND~!), over which
is covered by a Carl Everett Boston Red Sox jersey(quite the contrast, 'eh?) and covering up
his jet black hair is a New England Patriots cap. Black running pants and shitkickers finish
his ensemble. Lucas walks up, his equally black eyes stare at the beautiful woman standing in
front of him. Lucas walks up, speaking as he does so, he does have an accent from
Massachusetts but doesn't butcher every word like some up there would.]

LM: Why hello there, what a beautiful lady we have here. [looks down to the child] Is this
your sister, little fella?

[The little boy looks up and talks, reluctantly.]

BOY: Nuh uh, this is my mommy.

[Lucas raises his eyebrows a bit and turns his attention to the mother.]

LM: You seem too young and radiant to already have a child, my dear. May I ask your name?

[The woman looks hesitant but speaks anyway, a slight twang in her voice but not enough to
butcher words.]

W: Lydia...Lydia Kellan....

[Lucas looks puzzled, then speaks himself.]

LM: Kellan, you mean like Robert Kellan? Interesting, oh, I should have introduced myself, my
name is Lucas McCall, your husband's foe this evening, it seems.

L: Oh, really? Your accent sounds familiar, where are you from?

LM: Bastahn.

L: Where?

LM: Bastahn...(looks around, then adjusts himself) Oh, I'm sorry, my tone has changed,
sometimes my roots show through, I'm from Boston, Massachusetts, hence the attire, I suppose.

[Lucas bows out a bit, showing off his clothing, a strange attire, to say the least.]

L: Oh, that's nice.

LM: How about you, where do you and the lucky Mr. Kellan live? Along with your son, of course.

L: Of course...His name is Bobby, too, we're from Ohio but we live in Texas right now.

[Lucas seems to cringe but doesn't show it much, turning away and smirking, then coming back to
the same look he had before.]

LM: Texas? That's right next to here, that's nice, I've been to Texas a few times, nice enough
place.

L: We like it.

[Just then, before Lucas can say another thing, the large form of Robert Kellan comes into
view. Kellan is a large, thickly built, young man. Only in his mid/late twenties, he sports a
babyface, usually clean shaven, and short cropped, spiked brown hair to go with green-ish eyes.
Kellan is quite muscular, obviously a hard worker, with heavily chorded arms and neck, wide
shoulders and a thick back. Attractive in a rugged way, Kellan is often a hit with the
ladies...well more then often, something his wife doesn't really like, but hey, she goes home
with him so she can't complain. Dressed in his dark blue wrestling gear, a GIW t-shirt over
top and a Dallas Cowboy's baseball cap covers his head. With a sheepish smile, Lydia
acknowledges her husband, the little boy running over to him and jumping into his awaiting
arms. Lucas turns as well, smiling.]

RK: Heya Bobby, how's my little man today?

["Bobby" giggles as he hugs his Pops.]

B: I'm good daddy and me and Mommy were talking and this man came up and his name is George
Lucas and he's gonna be against you tonight but you're gonna win and cause you're my daddy and
my daddy is the bestest, right Daddy?

[Kellan chuckles, looking over at Lucas, the smile gone.]

RK: So, you're Lucas McCall. I've heard...(he searches for the right word)... alot about you.
I see you've already met my wife Lydia and Bobby here.

LM: Yes sir I have. And you're obviously Robert Kellan. I've heard a lot about you too.
Lovely family you have here Robert, you're a lucky guy.

RK(raising an eyebrow): Yes...yes I am. But they've got to get going now. Our match is up
first I hear.

[Putting his son down, he turns his attention away from McCall and to his wife.]

RK: Alright hon', I've gotta go get warmed up. I'll see you after the show.

[Leaning over she kisses him on the cheek.]

LK: Go get 'em Tiger.

[Walking off, she nods in the direction of McCall, Bobby bounding ahead of her and to their
seats in the crowd. Lucas stares at Lydia while she walks away then turns back to Robert,
reaching into his pocket and pulling out a shiny flask, he speaks to Kellan, much more in a
rugged tone than to his wife.]

LM: Nice piece o' ass ya' got there, Robaht.

[Wide eyed, Kellan turns to McCall, no small amount of venom in his voice.]

RK: Excuse me?

[McCall takes a swig and smirks, the alcohol stench spitting off his breath.]

LM: Ya' heard me. I sure don't think I have to repeaht myself. She's got a helluva ass,
prolly even nicer 'fore she had that bastard son, 'eh?

[Incredulous, Kellan steps right up to McCall, his massive frame dwarfing the Boston-er.
Looking down, fuming, the normally calm, nice Kellan suddenly takes a much edgier, much more
angry tone.]

RK: Listen here pal. That is my goddamn family you are talking about. _My_ wife, _my_ son. No
one and I mean NO ONE talks about them like that. I don't give a shit who you are pal. I'll
shove my fist right down your goddamn neck if I ever hear anything...ANYTHING like that
again...got it?

[He moves in even closer, the two men touching chests, nose to nose, toe to toe. His voice
lowers, a gravely, dangerous whisper.]

RK: Got it?

[Lucas doesn't back down, only brings the flask up, and swigs, speaking again, right in
Kellan's face.]

LM: Don't get mad at me, Kellan. Does it make you uncomfahtahble that I'd like to pork yer
wife? Nothin' wrong with coveting thy neighbor's possesions, is thahe? So, do us both ah
favah and drop the shit. Yah with her 'cause she has a hot ass, nothin' else, the bastahd son
just solidified ya' in the family.

[Like lightning, Kellan grabs McCall by the shirt, lifting him up and slamming him violently..
and _hard_ into the wall behind him. The wind driven out of him, McCall spits up the liquor in
his mouth, covering the shirt of Kellan. He doesn't seem to care at all, instead holding
McCall against the wall, face flushed and trembling in anger.]

RK: I'm gonna make it simple. You are to never talk to my wife again. You are to never talk
to my son again. I don't even want you seeing them...ever...again. You got that Lucas. You
_fricking_ got that?

[Raising a hand, Kellan winds up...

and then lets go of McCall, backing off and straightening himself off.]

RK: You know what...you're not worth it. We got a match tonight pal...in a couple minutes. I
ain't hitting you back here. I ain't wasting my time, I can kick your ass in a bit. But I'm
telling you. One word, one glance...and I won't be so nice next time.

[Turning on his heel, Kellan storms away, walking down a hallway and out of sight. McCall,
wiping the dripping booze from his face, smiles a sick, half drunk little smile...and we fade
back to Davidson and Rodgers at their table.]

DD: Hot damn Lucas is right!

JR: On c'mon now.

DD: what? You don't think Kellan's wife has an ass that could bend metal?

JR: Well.. I'm not disagr-

DD: Just say it Jake.. Mrs. Kellan has a tight and super fine ass.

JR: Can't do it.

DD: Weak.

JR: [sighs] Nevertheless.. let's go over to Antonio Hervez for the official introductions to
our opening contest of the evening!

[Cut to the good ole fan favorite latino midget Antonio Hervez.. they Pop! nicely as he
staggers about the ring and then tries to keep his balance and composure in the center of the
ring.]


AH: Ladiess an' gentlemen.. welcome to Grand Isle Wrestling [Pop!]


DD: Didn't we alr-

JR: Yes, yes.. we know.


AH: Our first contest is scheduled for one fall.. with a feefteen meenute time leemit!
Introducing first..


['Protect Ya' Neck' by the Wu-Tang Clan plays over the Gee Eye Dub sound system, out from the
back walks Lucas McCall, he walks gingerly to the ring, cursing at the fans as he does,
plastered across his face is both a drunken daze and a shit-eating grin, nothing fancy 'bout
this guy.]


AH: On his way to the ring.. he weighs in tonight at 237 pounds.. and he hails from Boston,
Massachusetts.. here is..


LUCAS McCALL!!!!!


[McCall slides into the ring to a smattering of boos before going to his corner and stretching
out with the ropes.. awaiting Kellan.]


AH: And his opponent..


[Seven Mary Three's "Cumbersome" is accompanied by a decent cheer...a cheer ignored as Robert
Kellan appears at the entrance way, wasting no time getting to the ring.]


AH: On his way to the ring at this time.. he weighs in tonight at 268 pounds and hails from
Beaumont, Texas.. here is..


"LONE STAR" ROBERT KELLAN!!!


[Kellan is a large, thickly built, young man. Only in his mid/late twenties, he sports a
babyface, usually clean shaven, and short cropped, spiked brown hair to go with green-ish eyes.
Kellan is quite muscular, obviously a hard worker, with heavily corded arms and neck, wide
shoulders and a thick back. Attractive in a rugged way, Kellan is often a hit with the
ladies...well more then often, something his wife doesn't really like, but hey, she goes home
with him so she can't complain.]

[In the ring Kellan wears a pair of dark blue wrestling shorts with a silver star on the back
of them. He also wears black knee pads, black boots and heavily tapes his hands and wrist in
white tape. Whipping off his t-shirt and baseball cap, he slides into the ring, ready for
McCall.]


---------------------------------------------
Grand Isle Wrestling: Double Debut Opener!!!

"Lone Star" Robert Kellan vs. Lucas McCall

Written By: Andy Doran
---------------------------------------------

[The camera fades out and static fills and then all it says is..


We Are Experiencing Technical Difficulties!


And instead of warping through time so bear the fuck with me.. we finally cut back to Rodgers
and Davidson.]

JR: Well.. that was surely interesting.

DD: Interesting?! We just lost our whole opener for the television audience! Cheap ass Grand
Isle Wrestling!

JR: Fans at home, we are thoroughly sorry for the technical difficulties so let us recap for
you what we just saw here a few moments ago..

DD: Oh joy.. I gotta relive that experience?

JR: Fans.. regardless of what Dirk would have you believe.. Robert Kelland and Lucas McCall had
an all-out war that really had the crowd pumped. These two men fought.. they didn't just
wrestle.. they all out fought each other in a brutal fifteen minute time limit draw!

DD: I must say that Lucas McCall did impress me with his excellent counterwrestling ability.

JR: Counterwrestling? Fans.. McCall cheated more times than Dirk's ex-wife while they were
married..

DD: Hey! NOBODY cheated more times than my ex-wife! Nobody!

JR: Good point. Robert Kellan came out firing on all cylinders and the match went back and
forth.. inside and outside the ring.. but at the ten minute mark.. all hell broke loose as they
stayed on the outside although neither man got busted open.. they both were sure to be sore in
the morning!

DD: Good, they deserve to be.

JR: And like I said.. they fought to the back as the bell was sounded for the draw.. so those
two surely didn't settle much from earlier this evening.. and I'm sure these two will have a
lot more to say in the upcoming weeks.. but right now let's take you to some comments from
Shane Destiny and Roxie!

DD: Tits!

[Fade in. We're in front of a nice, purple, velvet-looking backdrop. "Sweet Dreams" Shane
Destiny stands before us, with an annoying smirk on his face. Roxie stands next to him,
looking much more sexier now that she's turned her back on the fans. Don't ask, some women are
just sexier when they're evil. Destiny speaks.]

2SD: I bet all o'y'GIW fans are wondering two things -- wait, no, make that three things. First
thing y'all are wondering? "What in the hell is soap?" My God, y'people smell funny. Second
thing? Why did y'turn y'er back on Jamie Roth? Well, folks, that one's simple. See, Jamie
Roth -- y'went and made a big mistake. Y'cost me some money. Now, I know you're just some
piddly little wrestler without much of a future, so losin' ain't a big thing t'ya. But, y'see
-- I'm an international superstar. I ttravel around the world. Y'can turn on the TV almost any
night and see me.

[Destiny's smirk disappears.]

2SD: But I will be _damned_ if I'm gonna come here, t'this festerin' stinkpit, and _lose_ two
straight matches _without_ gettin' pinned because y'aren't capable o' gettin' the damn job done
in the ring. Now, y'got y'er nuts in a vice because o' that frigid bitch Angie out there --
that's cool. But just because y'er whipped don't mean you g'out there with me taggin' with
y'and lose matches. It just don't happen.

[Destiny takes Roxie in his arms.]

2SD: Because, y'see, while you have nothin' t'lose by droppin' matches, I sure as hell do. For
every match y'lost for me, I lost a bit o' money. I had promoters callin' me and sayin' that
they weren't interested this week, 'cause I was losin' in front o' 150 unwashed Louisiana
heathens. I went from workin' four nights a week t'three. When y'er an independent wrestler,
such as myself, losin' that one bookin' can hurt y'more than anything in the ring. And Jamie
Roth -- it's all your damn fault.

[Destiny's grin returns.]

2SD: So here's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna beat every single penny you cost me out of y'er
worthless hide. I'm gonna take y'and drop y'on y'er skull more times than Angie has said
"sorry, honey, not tonight" t'ya. And then, this woman in my arms and I are gonna have lots
and lots of sex, just because we can.

[Destiny and Roxie share an disgustingly long public display of affection. Destiny stops the
kiss when he has an epiphany.]

2SD: I almost forgot! That third thing y'all are wonderin'! Why is this on tape? Because I
don't feel like comin' and stealin' the show once again for a bunch of unappreciative,
unsatisfied, dirty-as-Angie pains in my ass. So y'all can watch this promotion flounder
without the ol' 2-S-D raisin' the ratin's.

[Destiny smirks onces again, and returns to the kiss. Fade back to the announcers.]

DD: Smart man right there.. I wish I could get the hell out of this hole too.

JR: Settle down Dirk..

DD: Why?

JR: [sighs] Well, it seems Destiny won't be in attendance tonight which should bode well for
Jaime Roth who's scheduling up next to take on the turncoat punk Ryan Faith who's got quite a
lot of explaining to do..

DD: No he doesn't.. he doesn't need to explain jack to anybody. He may a business and career
move that's going to reap benefits immediately.

JR: That is yet to be seen. But nevertheless.. let's get Ryan Faith's take on tonight's big
contest..

[Generic GIW backdrop. New turned heel, Ryan Faith stands there with a cocky smirk on his face. \
His shaggy hanging in his face, he brushes it aside, to show his youthful face... he waits a
few seconds.. composing himself.. then he speaks...]

RF: Don't bother trying to ask me questions, because I doubt I'm in the mood to explain...
"why?"

[shakes his head]

RF: Please don't waste my time. I mean, if you really have to know why, then you probably don't
understand how.

[pause]

RF: So, really think before you decide you want to ask me why I did what I did. Because christ
as my witness, I'll strike you down where you stand. Just like I did to Russ Brady.

[Ryan snickers]

RF: Because sometimes you just have to go out and take what you deserve. Sometimes you just
can't wait around and hope someone gives it to you. Impatient?

You're damn skippy I'm impatient. I'm not going to be one of those poor fools, who waits his
entire career, until suddenly after everyone dies or decides to retire, that he gets his
chance.

No... screw that.

[Ryan nods his emphatically]

RF: You only get what you want, when you go out and grab it for yourself. And being a goody two
shoes, morally correct, boyscout.. well, it just doesn't count it. You wanna be the right? You
wanna follow the path of righteousness?

[shakes his head]

RF: Nah man, that just isn't going to work. I can tell. I know. I've seen it. 19 years old? You
wanna keep thinking about that? Man, I've seen McBaine wrestle, lose and kickass.. before I
even graduated from high school. I'm not naive. No, not at all. And maybe that's what you all
have to get over. And I sure hope to hell, that Jamie Roth doesn't decide to view me as
everyone else did. He's some sort of fan favorite?

[snickers]

RF: All I remember was seeing him dropped on his head by Destiny, and not being able to move
for a lil. Damn bro, if you let someone like Destiny do that to you, how are you going to
measure up against someone like Ryan Faith?

Tell me Jamie Roth, can you guarantee yourself from not getting knocked from pillar to post?
Can you guarantee that I won't drop you on your head more times than pills dropped at a rave?

[snickers]

RF: Of course you can't, Roth. You can't do a god damned thing. You can't make any promises
that you won't totally screw up you chance.

_YOUR_ chance!

[Faith sighs]

RF: You wont make the most of your chance, because unfortunately for you, it's against me. And
while you may be ready to wrestle this week Roth.. I have one question for you....


Are you ready to test your faith?

[Fade back to Dirk and Jake.]

JR: What an arrogant punk that kid is.

DD: Confident! He's confident!

JR: Whatever you wanna call it.. it reeks.

DD: Of heinosity?

JR: Yep.

DD: Bah.. remember.. a wise business move by Faith that'll pay off big time.. you'll see.

JR: Yes, yes we will. Let's go over to Hervez for the official introductions..

[Cut to Hervez standing, wobbling.. in the ring.]


AH: Our next contest.. is scheduled for one fall.. with a tweenty meenute time leemit..
introducing first..


[A sigh is uttered from Poison's frontman, Bret Michaels, cueing the acoustic guitar intro of
"Every Rose Has Its Thorn."]

# Every rose has its thorn #
# Just like every night has its dawn #
# Just like every cowboy #
# Sings a sad, sad song #
# Every rose has its tho -- #

[After a static-like sound, "The Rebirth" by Boy Hits Car begins blasting full-throttle over
the PA system to a face pop as none other than Jamie Roth, accompanied by the always-lovely
Angie, make their way to the ring. Roth is decked out in his usual ring attire --
carbon-colored tights with flames going up the side of each leg, white boots, and white
athletic tape around his wrists -- as well as a black GIW T-shirt. Angie dressed in skin-tight
white dress shirt, a short plaid skirt, and a pair of black high-heeled boots, completing the
"nasty schoolgirl" look she was going for.]


AH: On his way to the ring at this time.. he is accompanied to the ring by Angie! [POP!] He
weighs in tonight at 221 pounds.. hailing from St. Louis, Missouri.. here is..


JAIME ROTH!!!!!!!


[Big pop! As Roth reaches the ringside area, he skins the T-shirt, throwing it into the crowd
so some foo' looking for a cheap souvenir can have it. Afterwards, he slips into the ring under
the bottom rope as Angie climbs into the apron and enters the ring in a rather slow, seductive
manner.

Jamie commandeers the mic as his music fades out.]

JR: I'm sure you all saw what happened last week. You know, Shane Destiny making me look like
a big, fat fool...

[Heel pop for Destiny there. Jamie simply continues his soliloquy.]

JR: Shane, I don't know what the hell got into your head. Hell, I'll be the _first_ to admit
it -- maybe I made some mistakes in that match, but that doesn't mean that you've got the right
to drop me on my head, not once, but _twice_. See, Shane, I'm normally a friendly, nice,
cordial individual; you could be the meanest dude on the face of the planet, and I'll give you
the slightest glimmer of hope that _someone_'ll befriend your truly lonely ass.

However, trust is a whole other story. Trust, man, is something that I cherish. See Angie
over here? Sure, sometimes she treats me like shit, sometimes her mouth'll say things that
she'll regret sometimes --

[Angie rolls her eyes and visibly mouths, "not true!"]

JR: -- but I _trust_ her 'cause she's smart, spunky, and scrappy. She knows how to take care
of the both of us. Shane, I started to _trust_ you because you respect this industry like I
do; I thought you were a straight-up kinda fella, that you didn't care about petty bullshit...
but I guess I was wrong, and I was wrong to _trust_ you.

All of your words, Shane, they're crap -- just like the crap I'm gonna beat out of Ryan Faith
tonight...and you, Destiny, when I get the chance. Just like RATT said in one of their songs:
"you're a wanted man."

[Zero crowd reaction. Angie slaps Jamie on the shoulder for making that corny threat and then
takes the mic.]

A: Okay, look, what he meant was that he's gonna --

[A minute of solid "BLEEP!" can't be too good. It's not exactly woman-like, either. At any
rate, as soon as Angie's tirade is finished, the crowd pops big-time because they like a woman
with a dirty mouth.]

A: -- and that's exactly what I'm gonna do to that [BLEEP] Roxie, too.

[A "plonk" is heard as Angie throws the mic down to the canvas. Jamie looks rather amused as
his valet storms out of the ring.]

JR: What a little fireballer Angie is!

DD: I've got a pair of fireballs to show hear lemme tell ya.

JR: Jeez, that's bad Dirk.. rose than usual.

DD: I don't get paid enough to put out continual good effort.

JR: That's nice.


AH: And his opponent..


["God Hates A Coward" by Tomahawk blasts over the speaks as the GIW faithful get on their feet
and boo heavily.. as Faith walks out from behind the corner to even more boos.]


AH: On his way to the ring.. he weighs in tonight at 242 pounds.. and he hails from
Southborough, Massachusetts.. here is..


RYAN FAITH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


[Big Time Heel Pop!]

[Faith walks slowly but purposefully towards ringside as a few fans try to take a shot at him..
a few cups whizzing past his head as he slides into the ring and just locks his eye on the game
Jaime Roth.]
If a wholly Great One rules, the people hardly know that he exists. Lesser men are loved and praised, still lesser ones are feared, still lesser ones are despised. How thoughtful one must be in what one says! The work done, business takes its course, and all people think: "We are free." - Lao Tzu

"Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children's children what it was once like in the United States where men were free." - Ronald Reagan

"The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government." - Thomas Jefferson
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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
--------------------------------------
Grand Isle Wrestling: Singles Match!!!

Ryan Faith vs. Jaime Roth w/Angie

Written By: Ryan Duffy
--------------------------------------


[DING DING DING!!!]

JR: Last week we saw this man Faith turn his back on the fans of GI-

DD: Oh don't start that! Faith made a choice, be a winner or be a fan favorite and wait until
he's 90 years old to be a winner in their eyes. The man isn't going to wait around anymore
Jake, and that's why I respect him.

JR: As I was going to say, last week we saw Ryan Faith take a chair to head of Russ Brady.

DD: It might have made Brady that much better to look at though.

[As Jake and Dirk argue in the ring, Faith and Roth face off in the ring.. slowly they start to
circle each other and look for the lock-up. On the outside, Roth's manager Angie shouts out
some instructions towards him.]

DD: Angie has herself a good set of lungs..

JR: I'm really sure that's what you're looking at Dirk.

DD: Of course it was Jakey, what kind of pervert do yo think I am?

JR: And now the two lock-up in the middle of the ring, and Faith is able to take to the
advantage with a quick standing armbar on Roth.

DD: I bet she'd be loud in the sack.

[Faith rears back on the arm of Jamie Roth. Roth screams out in a bit of pain, but tries to
find the escape... with a forward roll he is able to untwist his arm, but Faith isn't having
any of that and drops his leg across the throat of Jamie Roth and continues to hold onto the
arm!]

JR: What a counter there by Ryan Faith! And now he's got Roth in a seated armbar.

[We can hear Angie screaming out to Roth.]

DD: Yeah, she'd be a squealer

JR: Will you knock it off already?

DD: Hey, I'm giving my opinions.. that's why they hired me.

JR: I thought it was to make my life a living hell.

DD: That too.

[Roth is able to reach the ropes with his feet after a good struggle and Faith is forced to
break the hold on him. Roth is back to his feet, but holds his arm in a lot of pain.]

JR: And Faith snaps the arm of Roth straight down! He's trying to dislocate that shoulder
now... Faith with another armbar and now he just rams his shoulder right into Roth's. This man
is showing no let up on that arm.

DD: As he shouldn't, he should be trying to win at all costs.

JR: Faith has been able to work on the arm of Jamie Roth here in the opening moments of this
match.. he sends Roth into the ropes with a strong whip, Roth off the ropes...



THUUUUUUUUUUD!




[POP FROM THE CROWD.]



JR: Flying forearm by Jaime Roth and he just leveled Ryan Faith!

DD: But he hurt himself as well.

[Indeed. Roth lead with his hurt arm and now the two men struggle to both get back up. Faith
is back to his feet first and just sizes Roth back up with a kick to the side of the ribs on
Roth! Roth rolls onto his back in a lot of pain.]

DD: Damn.

JR: Ryan Faith showing just a no nonsense style of wrestling in the ring and has effectively
taken out Jamie Roth out of his gameplan.

DD: Gameplan? He has taken Roth _out_, period.

[Angie slams her hand down onto the mat to encourage Roth to do something here. Faith goes to
pick him back up, but Roth out of no where hits a jawbreaker! The crowd pops as Faith wheels
backwards after that move.]

JR: Nice counter by Jaime Roth and he's got Faith wheeling. Roth with the kick.. no! Faith
catches the leg of Jamie Roth here...

DD: Faith's back in control now.





[CROWD POP!]





JR: NO! STEP-UP ENZUGRI BY JAMIE ROTH AND HE JUST CLOCKS RYAN FAITH!

DD: This is not good.

JR: Roth is now on the offensive and now makes his way towards the ropes slowly as Faith
struggles back up to his feet... SPRINGBOARD DROPKICK! Connecting to the back of Faith's skull
again!

[Faith now takes this chance to roll to the outside to break Roth's momentum up. But Roth isn't
about to stop now, in a quick motion he climbs to the top rope and waits for Faith to turn his
way, as he does, Roth sets up backwards towards him...]














CRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSH!











"GEE EYE DUBBA!" "GEE EYE DUBBA!" "GEE EYE DUBBA!" "GEE EYE DUBBA!"



"GEE EYE DUBBA!" "GEE EYE DUBBA!" "GEE EYE DUBBA!" "GEE EYE DUBBA!"



"GEE EYE DUBBA!" "GEE EYE DUBBA!" "GEE EYE DUBBA!" "GEE EYE DUBBA!"



JR: INCREDIBLE MOVE BY JAMIE ROTH! A CORKSCREW MOONSAULT RIGHT INTO THE ARMS OF RYAN FAITH TO
THE OUTSIDE! BOTH MEN HAVE BEEN TAKEN OUT HERE, BUT I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

DD: Ok, I'll give it to Roth... that was pretty fricken cool right there. But I think he might
have knocked himself out.

JR: Both men are slow to getting back to their feet, but you can tell the damage that that move
did to both men.

DD: If we had money, we _would_ show you a replay of that.. but, we're GIW.

[Roth seems to be a little shaken up, but he's able to pull himself up near the guardrailing.
Faith, is grabbing for the ring apron and still trying to get back up off of his knees. Roth
heads on over to try and get some more of Ryan Faith.]

JR: Roth brings up Faith up off the ground.. No! Shot to the throat by Faith. Roth reels
backwards and Faith charges in with the forearm!

DD: A very nice looking forearm.

JR: He tried to take off Roth's head on that one. Roth trying to get back to his feet and he's
holding his throat in some pain here...

[That had to hurt pop!]

JR: .. OH MY! Faith with a kick to the side of Roth's face!

DD: Faith is showing his brutal side tonight, and I'm impressed.

[Roth is rocked by the kick, but doesn't fully drop back down to the floor. Faith sizes him up
one more time and charges in..




THAT HURT EVEN MORE POP!]


JR: Running Yakuza Kick to the FACE of Jamie Roth! Roth has been laid out on the outside after
that one!

DD: Faith is taking it right to Roth, and that can't be good news for him.

JR: Faith now with a handful of Roth's hair as he picks him up off the ground and just rolls
him right back into the ring.

[Faith follows Roth in, but doesn't go for the pin. No, he stands.. almost circling around the
body of Jamie Roth waiting for him to get back up to his feet. Roth starts to stagger up to his
feet, but he keeps his back to Faith... which is a mistake, Faith pulls one of Roth's through
his own legs, setting him up for a pumphandle something. Faith lifts...








SSSSSSSSSLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMM!









[BIG MOVE POP!]





JR: VIAGRA DRIVER! PUMPHANDLE INTO A DRIVER! HERE'S FOR THE PIN..



ONE!


















TWO!




















THRE-





[He did what? Pop!}






JR: ROTH KICKS OUT OF THE PIN AT THE LAST SECOND!

DD: Slow count! Slow count! Eli strikes again!

[Faith can't believe it either, he slams his hands into the mat three times as he looks towards
the ref. Faith gets back up, somewhat deflated after that, but he's got plenty of time because
Roth is hardly moving.]

JR: Roth showing that he has some guts in that ring, you gotta be impressed with that.

DD: However, guts aren't going to keep you from out of the hospital when you're in the ring
with Ryan Faith.

JR: Faith back to the attack with some stomps to the back of Roth. Roth now in a real bad way
in the ring here as Faith kicks him back into the corner.. Faith bringing Roth back up to his
feet and now drags him face first across the top rope!

DD: Great way to wake up Roth.

JR: It's uncalled for..

[Roth holds his face in some pain and backs away from the ropes, however, he pretty much backs
up into Faith who was waiting for him. Faith hooks the leg of Roth and quickly drops him
backwards with a Russian Leg Sweep! But Faith isn't done, he quickly gets right back up...


...nice move pop from the crowd!]



JR: STANDING MOONSAULT BY FAITH AND HERE'S THE COVER, THIS COULD BE ALL!




ONE!

















TWO!

















THREE?












[FACE POP FROM THE CROWD!]





DD: ANOTHER SLOW COUNT!


JR: ROTH KICKS OUT AT THE LAST MOMENT THERE!

[Faith is really ticked now, he gets right into the face of Eli Francois and gives him an
earful on how to count to three. Faith backs off a little bit, and turns his attention back to
Roth, who has managed to somehow get back up to one knee.]

JR: Faith brings Roth back up to his feet here, he's a little mad that Roth isn't staying down
for the three count.

DD: Roth has been down longer than three, it's just a really really slow count.

JR: Seemed fair to me.

DD: You must have dropped out of school, right?

JR: Faith now, with the whip on Roth and sends him into the corner turnbuckle with a lot of
force there. Faith follows in looking for a splash... NO! Roth moves out of the way at the
last second and Faith hits the turnbuckles chest first!

[Roth waits for Faith to spin around and quickly locks him up in a front face lock. He lifts
quickly...







SLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAMM!







[CROWD POP!]




JR: IMPLANT DDT BY JAMIE ROTH AND HE DRIVES FAITH FACE FIRST INTO THE MAT! NO PIN FOR ROTH
THOUGH!?

DD: He should have gone for the pin, this is a mistake.

JR: It looks as if Roth is headed to the top rope here... he climbs to the top here.












SLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAMMMMMMM!












[OH WOW POP!]






JR: FAITH SAT UP AT THE LAST MOMENT AND ROTH HITS NOTHING BUT THE MAT!

DD: I told you so! Roth should have gone for the pin, but instead he tries to show off for
this crowd and that is _always_ a mistake.

[The crowd starts to suddenly make a lot of noise, and the camera turns it's attention onto the
entrance way to see both Shane Destiny and Roxie making their ways down towards the ring.]

JR: Shane Destiny and Roxie weren't even supposed to be in the arena tonight! What the hell are
they doing here!?

DD: They've come to watch a match, can't they do that?

[Roxie makes her way up onto the ring apron, and immediately the referee's attention is turned
in her direction. This allows Destiny to snatch up one of the chairs at ringside and slide into
the ring undetected.]

JR: Destiny with that chair... and now Roth starts to get back up to his feet, I don't think he
knows what exactly is going on here!

DD: He's about to get a front row seat..

JR: Roth turns towards Destiny...















SMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMACK!















[MASSIVE HEEL POP HERE FOR DESTINY!]








JR: CHAIRSHOT TO THE FACE OF JAMIE ROTH BY SHANE DESTINY! THAT SON OF A BITCH!

DD: Oh man, he's completely taken out Roth with one chairshot. And I think he's made that
chair unusable for anyone to sit in now... it's dented all to hell.

[But that's not all that is going on. On the other side of the ring, Angie gets behind Roxie
and pulls her down off of the apron! The two start to push each other back and forth for a
bit, but quickly drop to the ground and begin to roll around in all the greatness that is a...]

JR: CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATFIGHT! ROXIE AND ANGIE ARE GOING TO TOWN...

DD: And I love _EVERY_ single moment of this! Go for the clothes! Go for the clothes!

[The entire crowd is at their feet as they watch Roxie and Angie pretty much roll around on the
floor grabbing at each other's hair! Destiny now comes into play here..]

JR: Shane Destiny now over there and he breaks the two up... the crowd doesn't seem to like
this all that much though.

DD: They're not the only ones! What the hell!?

JR: Ryan Faith is back up in the ring, and now he picks Jamie Roth back up with him and hooks
his arms in a underhook... what's he going to do here...















SLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!



















[MASSIVE POP FOR THE MOVE! BUT MASSIVE HATE FOR FAITH!]











JR: TEST OF FAITH! TEST OF FAITH! AND HE DRIVES JAMIE ROTH RIGHT ON TOP OF HIS HEAD RIGHT
INTO THE MAT! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! HERE'S THE COVER BY FAITH...



ONE!





















TWO!























THREE!



[DING DING DING!]



JR: And with outside help from Shane Destiny, Ryan Faith is able to pick the victory. But you
gotta think that one day, Jamie Roth is going to get his hands on Shane Destiny.

DD: And I'm going to get my hands on both Roxie and Angie.


AH: Ladies and gentlemen.. the winner of the match..


RYAN FAITH!!!!!!


[BOOOOOO!! Destiny and Roxie hightail with monster smiles on their face as Angie slides in the
ring to check on Jaime Roth as we fade out.]

[Open to outside of the Sand Dollah, where the imposing and all around mean Russ Brady paces.
Dressed in black jeans, a black muscle shirt and brown boots, he seemingly guards the entrance,
back and forth, back and forth, seldom looking up. Covering his dirty blonde hair is a Hickory
Crawdad's baseball cap. But that doesn't last long, as Brady rips the damn thing off and chucks
it.]

RB: Tick tock, tick tock, slowly the tahm slips bah. An' when it passes all th' way, it's jes'
you'n me, Nelson. A big man...

[Russ points to himself.]

RB: ...'gainst a bigger one. But when it comes t' tall drinks o' water lahk ya, 'ere's always a
catch. There ain't never gon' be a seven foot, four hunnert poun' rocket scientist, see. Ah
dunno whut it is 'bout guys lahk you...butcha jes' can't seem t' think fer' yerselves. Big man
syndrome, tall man syndrome, convic' syndrome, Ah can't put mah finger on it. But rest
assured...Ah noticed it.

[Brady seethes as he stops pacing, combing his hair back and staring off for a second.]

RB: Without that child m'lester outside, ya ain't shit, Leviticus. Y'ain't no monster, y'ain't
no ass-kicker...yer a worthless piece o' meat. Hell, Ah'm not real sure if ya can even
unnerstan' English...so Ah'm gonna direc' this at Defay, so he can tell ya in sign language, er
in Spanish er whatever it is ya speek.

[Russ stops dead and stares in the camera, focusing.]

RB: Ah'm not 'fraid o' L'viticus Nelson. Ya done a real good job, makin' him outta be some
monster, scarin' lil' kids'n all. But Ah know that big freak ain't nuthin but a tool o' yer own
personal destruction. Someone ya got trained t' kill at yer voice, lahk a dog. You point yer
finger, an' he goes an' d'stroys. But whut're ya gon' do when he don't d'stroy? When it's me
who beats yer man down? Whut're ya gonna do when L'viticus Nelson is lef' fer dead bah me?

Think 'bout it.

[Brady backs off, and resumes pacing, more than a little sweat forming on his forehead.]

RB: Ya seem like a smart kinda guy, Defay. Well, the smartes' child molester Ah ever seen. So
you'll understand 'at a kingdom ain't nuthin without a king. As such, th' Grand Ahle ain't shit
right now. But don'chu worry...Ah'm aimin' t' fix 'at pro'lem. Step bah step an' Ah'm halfway
there...Nelson, Defay...yer jes' th' nex' step.

[Brady stops then starts again.]

RB: Tick tock, tick tock. Th' tahm's a-comin boys an' when it does...it'll hitcha lahk a ton o'
bricks.

[Fade.]

DD: Well.. Brady does have one thing correct, I'll give him that.

JR: And what's that?

DD: That DeFay is a child molester.. I mean.. he HAS to be. NOBODY that looks like him is a
credible upstanding citizen of any community outside the Naughty Touch communities.

JR: Um.. ok.

DD: Am I wrong?

JR: Not quite sure on that one Dirk.. but I am getting word from the back.. let's go to the
back and see what is cookin'.

[We open up to a shot of Lucas McCall, blood on his face, limping a bit through the back area,
he reaches into his pocket, looking to pull out his flask but is interrupted by Lydia Kellan,
who walks up, looking concerned a bit. She walks in, her hand covering her mouth in concern.]

LK: Oh my...I am so sorry Lucas. I...I don't know what got into Robert. Normally he isn't like
that. I...I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. I...

LM: It's okay..don't apologize, maybe he thought I deserved a beating, I really don't know why,
I don't think I treated him badly at all. That's just the way of the business, Lydia, you're
too nice of a woman to understand that but you probably have to if you're going to be with
Robert.

[Lydia smiles meekly.]

LK: Robert's a good man, he really is. He treats me good, treats Bobby great. I never see him
mad Lucas, I don't get it. I mean, he really is a good person. He is a fire fighter back
home, he helps out all the neighbors, he loves kids. I don't get it. Something must have got
to him. Maybe one of these bad guys he's always talking about said something to him. Maybe they
made him mad. I just don't understand, but this is wrestling, I'll never understand.

LM: Maybe you should stay away then...if you'll never understand, you may put yourself in
trouble....

LK: Well if Robert loves it so much, I do too. Robert...

[...suddenly walks by, looking quite worse for the wear himself. From the corner of his eye he
catches Lydia...and McCall. Oh, there's trouble now! Walking towards them, staring a hole
through McCall, Kellan grabs Lydia by the arm.]

RK: Come on dear, we have to go.

[Surprised, she looks up at Kellan, turning to say goodbye once to McCall. However Kellan's
apparent sense of urgency stops this and the two make their way down the hallway and away from
McCall, but not before shooting him one more death glance, a death glance returned with a smirk
from McCall.]

LK: What's the matter with you Robert? What's got into you tonight? First the match and now
this? I don't--

[He interrupts, his voice raised.]

RK: No you _don't_ get it! You didn't hear what he said Lydia. You didn't hear how he was
talking. I just...

[Realizing he was practically yelling at his wife and seeing the shocked look on her face, his
tone subsides, quieting down. Apologetic he hugs her, holding her tightly.]

RK: I'm sorry Lydia, I really am, but I don't want you or Bobby around him. I don't know what
he said to you or how he acted but that isn't him. He's just putting on a show. I don't want
to see either of you around him anymore.

[The two start walking down the hallway, towards his locker room. Lydia squeezes his hand
lovingly as she looks up to her husband.]

LK: You worry to much Rob.

RK: Maybe I don't worry enough...

[And with that, we fade.]

DD: Crack the whip! Somebody is pussy whipped like a mofo!

JR: What?! Did you even bother to watch what just unfolded?

DD: Actually.. um.. well.. the nacho guy was coming around and I.. um..

JR: Exactly what I thought. But no nacho vender excuse will be of use this time as I'm going
to make sure you see these pre-recorded comments..

DD: MCBAINE!!

JR: No.. actually.. City Jack!

DD: Oh good goddamn christ!

[Scene comes to a shot of a damp and dark afternoon in the inner-Grand Isle. In fact, the shot
is right outside of one GIW TV Champ's housing, where that champion sits in a fold out chair
under an overhang. City Jack's got a beer in his hand, a black #3 cap on his head, and a black
T-shirt & Jeans. His beard & hair's a little out of place as well, which considering the
weather is a given. CJ lifts up his can and gives a nod to the camera, meaning it's Jack-time.]

CJ: Kind of a danked out week here on the Isle, I'd say. But here, I can't say much is all
wrong. I still got my title, a hot sandwich and beer by my side, and all you folks out there
watchin'. Can't be a bad day, no I say not.

[Jack shakes his head after tapping the beer beside.]

CJ: Still can't get over that there match last time around. I gotta say...

[Jack holds a finger up and takes a swig of beer before continuing on.]

CJ: Whooee, I say, that was one wild time! Down there, just gettin' in really on minutes before
my match. Then going down, chugging and running down that way to the ring for my match... I can
say it was something I never had done before.

[Jack smiles.]

CJ: See, I'm the type always liking to get there early, chat it up with the good ol' crowd,
swap some stories - you get the deal. Not being there on time, why it throws me off in all
sorts of manners. You all who attend faithfully know what I'm talking about here, I'm sure.

[Jack nods.]

CJ: But boy oh boy, that there match probably took more weight off this ol' sob's body than
running a three mile marathon! Sure, that Stevens fella, he's not with our little group
anymore, but he put up one helluva fight for me. Guess all you had a good time watchin',
though, which in the end makes the effort, the sweat, and all the troubles ten times worth it.

[Jack smiles and then takes a bite out of his late lunch. After washing it down with another
dose of beer, Jack smiles again.]

CJ: Hearing all you guys and gals at the end, cheerin' and rootin' for this Kentucky boy sure
does make my time here all worth it. Makes having a title worth it. Now, sure, the paycheck
ain't bad neither, but seeing the fans get up when I walk in... why, that's just worth more
gold than any title this here company can put out.

[City nods to that one.]

CJ: But now, I'm not saying I'll be trading in this here TV title of mine any time soon for
some more cheers - I love you fans, but I'm not one crazy character. Ha, now isn't that some
lead in?

[Jack chuckles a bit, referring to his opponent this week.]

CJ: Yes, I say this Tar-an-tell-a fellow, guess that's how ya say it, I never done see someone
so active around in that ring. Flippin', flying, and just exploding every which way... Whoo, I
can say this one'll be a tough one. Others here in GIW, I done see them types before, but this
Tar-an-tell-a fellow?

[City Jack shakes his head.]

CJ: I can't say I ever saw such like him ever. Up there in ol' Liberty, I saw your brawlers,
your techs, you big brickhouses, but none of these air devils. No sir, them guys as strange to
me as being pinned in a ring.

[City re-adjusts his girth in his chair for a moment before pointing to the screen.]

CJ: But now I'm not saying that this Tar-an-tell-a's gonna take me for a loop and nab this here
TV title away from me. No, no, that's one thing that's not happenin'. Might take some time for
me to see what's there and how to fight ya, but I'll do ya in. If all else fails, I'll just go
in that there ring, hit you up and just do what I do best: fight 'til I've got you in my arms
before crushin' ya in a Metroboom!

[City slaps his forearm as he gets revved up... but he calms himself down before he gets the
jiggies.]

CJ: Ha, never been so excited for a match in a while, I'll say. Something new and that's
something this ol' sob always enjoys doing: taking on something new. So come on down,
Tar-an-tell-a, you fans... hell, even that loud-mouth Dirk Dandyson can come on down, watch,
root on, and just have a damned good time.

[Jack gives a slight grin at the shot on the announcer.]

CJ: And I'll be sure to be there extra early this time, just for you good fans. You make sure
to be there too, you see?

[Jack nods and takes up another bite of his sandwich before the camera fades out.]

DD: Did that sheeithead just call me Dirk Dandyson?!

JR: Haha! Yes he did!

DD: That motherfu-

JR: Hey!

DD: Screw that man! I hope Tarantella takes this fat punk from pillar to post and beats his
ass straight back to that sheeithole of a state in Kentucky!

JR: You never know what can happen in the Grand Isle, that's for sure.

DD: Blah blah!

JR: And with those educated words from my colleague, let's go over to Antonio Hervez for the
introductions to our Television title match!

[Cut to Hervez.]

AH: Ladies an' gentlemen.. our next contest is scheduled for one fall.. and it is for the GIW
TELEVISION TITLE!!!!! [POP!!!] Introducing first..


["Horror Business" by the Misfits hits the airwaves as the crowd all stands up awaiting this
hotly enjoyed daredevil. Out from the entranceway steps the short, powerfully built Mexican
young man. He's well-built, and well-defined, but not really what you'd call "pretty"- it's a
physique developed through athleticism, hard work, and stupidity, not to impress the boys in
the back, and it shows. He's also covered with scars- a ridiculous number of scars, in fact-
surgery scars, barbed wire scars, burn scars, broken glass scars, roadrash-looking scars (which
are actually from being dragged over ground glass), and the like. The right side of his face,
neck, and his right shoulder, all have a slight glassy look to them, from a fire match that got
a bit out of hand.]

[Oddly, he's a fairly attractive guy, in an odd sort of way. His skin's a vibrant chestnut
brown (where not crisscrossed with ropes of white scarring), and his eyes a deep, dazzling
hazel above high Indian cheekbones, lending a certain exotic cast to his features when
contrasted with his strong jawline, thick neck, and broad, thickly-muscled shoulders. He wears
his hair in a waist-length braid hanging from the center of the crown of his head and dyed a
striking blood red, the rest of his scalp shaved smooth. He also wears an odd Fu Manchu
mustache in the form of a jet black braid hanging from each corner of his mouth, down an inch
or two past his jawline, the rest of his face (including eyebrows) cleanshaven.]

His ring attire consists of a pair of full-length red tights with a black spiderweb woven
around the left leg and onto the pelvis, the corners of it centered in front and back (it's a
3-point web- the bottom point of the "inverted triangle" is underneath his left kneepad). Over
this, he wears black kneepads and red wrestling boots, with black martial arts kickpads on the
boots themselves. Throw in a pair of red fingerless gloves and wrists wrapped in black
electrical tape, and there you have it. The man slowly stalks down to the ring.]


AH: Making his way to the ring.. hailing from Guadalajara, Mexico.. and weighing in at 233
pounds.. here is..


TARANTELLA!!!!!!!!!


[Tarantella slides into the ring as the crowd pops BIG for this relative newcomer. He raises a
hand in the air.. focused on the entranceway.]


AH: And his opponent..


["Classic Gas" by Chet Atkins hits the PA as the fan favorite TV Champ enters the Marina to a
huge reaction from the crowd. City Jack holds up his title for the crowd, bringing in a couple
more cheers, which in turn brings in a wider smile for the large champ.]

DD: I HATE this prick!


AH: Making his way to the ring.. he weighs in tonight at 309 pounds.. hailing from Liberty,
Kentucky.. here is YOUR GIW TELEVISION CHAMPION!!!..


CITY JACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!


[Big time Pop!! as City Jack makes it to the ring after shaking & slapping some hands on the
way down. Jack slowly enters, hands off the title to the ref, and then gives a nod to his
opponent... and also a confused look towards the cruiserweight.]
If a wholly Great One rules, the people hardly know that he exists. Lesser men are loved and praised, still lesser ones are feared, still lesser ones are despised. How thoughtful one must be in what one says! The work done, business takes its course, and all people think: "We are free." - Lao Tzu

"Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children's children what it was once like in the United States where men were free." - Ronald Reagan

"The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government." - Thomas Jefferson
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----------------------------------------
Grand Isle Wrestling: TV Title Match!!!

Tarantella vs. City Jack [c]

Written By: Terry "The Ultimate" Jue
----------------------------------------


[DING DING DING!!]


[City Jack shakes his groove thing much to the delight of the various dozens in the crowd.
Tarantella, politely waits for Jack to finish doing his thing, before the two lock-up to a face
pop! Jack gets the easy advantage, using his huge size advantage to shove back the luchadore.
However, as they near the corner, Tarantella suddenly drops down, slipping through the champ's
legs and immediately runs towards the ropes, catching a somewhat startled City Jack...]


*THUD!!!*


Crowd: OH!!!

JR: QUEBRADA!!!

DD: Flippity thing!!!

JR: He caught City Jack with that moonsault out of nowhere! I don't think the champion was
expecting that!

DD: Stop defending him...he was just too fat to do a damn thing about it.

[Looking a lot more stunned than hurt, Jack shoves Tarantella off him. The luchadore nimbly
springs to his feet and catches a rising City Jack with a quick dropkick to the gut...

FACE POP!

...which doesn't do a damn thing!]

JR: That dropkick to the midsection by Tarantella looked to have done more harm to him than it
did to City Jack!!!

DD: What sort of idiot dropkicks a fatman in the gut!? That's like one of those bad guys
throwing their gun at Superman!

JR: Uhhhh..

DD: It's called an analogy, Jakey, look into it.

[City Jack does a little celebratory jig, before advancing on a somewhat stunned Tarantella. He
grabs the hardcore legend, but quickly gets sent back by a forearm smash that catches him right
beneath the throat! Sending Jack backing up a bit, this allows Tarantella to rush Jack...]



*THUD!*



[Face pop!]

JR: POWERSLAM!!! CITY JACK SHOOK THE ENTIRE RING WITH THAT MOVE!!!

DD: Oh yes, the shaking has nothing to do with the fact he weighs half a ton...

JR: And here's the pin!


ONE!!!





TWO!!!





TH...KICKOUT!!!

[Pop!]

JR: No! Tarantella slips the shoulder!

[Feeling the tide of the match slowly returning to him, City Jack struts a bit, as he drags
Tarantella towards the turnbuckle. He smashes the luchadore's head into the turnbuckle...and
again! And again! And again! And again! He finally releases Tarantella. The luchadore spins
around and walks around in a daze, before Jack catches him with a running shoulder tackle!
Or...at least as close as to running that City Jack can get. Face pop!]

DD: HE SENT THAT PUNK FLYING ACROSS THE RING!!! GODDAMNIT, USE ONE OF THEM TRIPLE CORKSCREW
SOWCOW MOVES!!!

JR: ....

[With Tarantella stunned, City Jack holds up his elbow and takes a step forward...]


*THUD!*


[...missing!]

DD: Beached whale! Beached whale! Where's Greenpeace, damnit!?

JR: City Jack slow to getting up...

DD: *Ahem* You mean...pathetically attempting to roll himself over.

JR: City Jack...[Pause.] ...slow to getting up...

[Well, yes. As City Jack is rising, Tarantella rushes at him, sending him back down with a
running kneelift to the side of the head! With Jack still down, Tarantella keeps his momentum,
rushing towards the ropes and springboarding off, nailing him with a legdrop! He pops back up
one last time, and steadies himself...]


Crowd: OH!

DD: Yeah, that's what I'm talking about!

JR: STANDING MOONSAULT AND THE PIN!!!


ONE!!!





TWO!!!





KICKOUT!!!

[Face pop!]

JR: Tarantella with an impressive series of moves, but he can't keep City Jack down!

DD: That's weak. Someone like Kendrick Lane would've put this fatboy outta' his misery long
ago!

JR: Uhhh...Lane already had his chance. [Pause.] He lost.

DD: Shut up.

[The luchadore keeps Jack down with a series of stomps, before leaping onto the top rope. He
leaps off towards the adjacent top rope, spinning around 180 degrees, before using the momentum
of the ropes to springboard him off into an...]


Crowd: OOHHHH!!!


JR: ARABIAN PRESS!!! Whatta' manuever!!!

DD: Damnit, stop targeting his midsection! He's invulnerable there!


ONE!!!





TWO!!!





TH...KICKOUT!!!

[HUGE Pop!]

DD: WHAT'D I TELL YA'!?!

[Looking a bit pained from that move, Tarantella rises slowly, pulling City Jack up by the
hair. He attempts to whip the big man into the ropes, but finds the whip easily reversed.
However, like earlier in the match, Tarantella simply leaps onto the top rope and leaps back
with a moonsault...


SHOCKED POP!


...and gets caught!]

DD: ACK!!

JR: What a display of strength by City Jack...heck, what thinking! He was almost expecting
that!

DD: Damnit, who said they could give this man a brain!?

[Looking pretty proud of himself for countering Tarantella's manuever, Jack leaves the scarred
warrior on his shoulder, as he does a little dance. This allows Tarantella to slide off and
dropkick City Jack from behind, sending the rotund grappler rolling out of the ring! Pop!]

DD: He's right in front of us...my god, he's got more chins than a Chinese phone book!

JR: !

[Still a bit shocked that he's suddenly out of the ring, City Jack turns his attention back
towards the ring...where he doesn't see Tarantella. Why? Well, he's got to look up...and to the
right.

...

....

.....

......]



*THUD!!!*

*CRASH!!!*


Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!


JR: TARANTELLA WITH A SOMERSAULT PLANCHA RIGHT INTO OUR ANNOUNCER'S TABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DD: Damnit, City Jack's sweating on me!!!

[With the entire Sand Dollar Marina crowd cheering their hearts out, Tarantella calmly rises
back to his feet, rolling himself back into the ring as City Jack tries to regain his bearings.
He crawls back to his feet and reaches the ring apron. However, Tarantella charges, sliding
through the bottom rope with an attempted headscissors...

FACE POP!

...and gets caught.]

JR: Tarantella just can't get City Jack over...and he's caught!

DD: Aw crap...

[City Jack powers Tarantella back up into the air, and dives forwards...]



*CLANK!!!*



Crowd: OH!

JR: OH MY GOD!!!

DD: That's gonna' leave a mark...

[...slamming Tarantella face-first into the ringsteps! HUGE POP!]

JR: Oh man, Tarantella took that one right on the chin...he might be out cold.

DD: No! Don't tell me this fat bastard's going to win again!

JR: I don't know...it looks like City Jack took a lot out of himself powering Tarantella up for
that.

[The crowd is hooting and hollering for their two favorites to get back on their feet, not
wanting the action to end. Suddenly, a meaty arm reaches up for the apron, pulling up a certain
big-boned wrestler back to his feet. And it's at this moment, City Jack stares at a still
groggy Tarantella...

FACE POP!

...and dances.]

DD: Shoot me. Now.

JR: City Jack's looking confident! He's got the crowd going wild!

DD: DIE!!!

[Wiping the sweat from his brow, the Television champion tosses a somewhat limp Tarantella back
into the ring. He follows back in, and scoops the smaller man up, dropping him with a bodyslam.
He holds up his elbow and wiggles a bit, before dropping forward...]

*THUD!*

JR: Elbowdrop!!!

*THUD!*

DD: Move out of the way, stupid!

*THUD!*

JR: He's punishing Tarantella!

*THUD!*

DD: Is it just me, or does he look like he's getting tired!?

*THUD!*

JR: Well, a littl-...

[...]

*THUMP!*

DD: HE SQUASHED HIM!!!!!!

JR: BELLY FLOP! CITY JACK LANDED RIGHT ON TARANTELLA!!!

DD: No, not like this!


ONE!!!





TWO!!!





THRE...KICKOUT!!!

[HUGE POP!]

[City Jack rolls off the crushed body of Tarantella. The luchadore is lifeless, as Jack pulls
him back to his feet. He grabs Tarantella in a waistlock and lifts him into the air...crushing
the life out of him! FACE POP!!!]

JR: A BEARHUG!!! That's the set-up to the METROBOOM!!!

DD: Awwww crap!

[However, as the very life is squeezed out of him, Tarantella suddenly finds the will to fight
back...]

JR: HEADBUTT!! Tarantella's trying to break the hold!

DD: YES!!! Come on, beat this chubby bastard!

[Tarantella pulls back his arms and slaps forward...]


*SLAP!*


JR: EARRINGER!!!

DD: AGAIN!!!


*SLAP!*


JR: City Jack's not letting go!

DD: Man, what's it going to tak-...

[MIXED POP!!!]

JR: TARANTELLA'S BITING CITY JACK'S NOSE!!!!!

DD: Irony! Irony!

JR: What?

DD: For the first time ever, in the greatest instance of role-reversal...something's biting
into City Jack!

[Finally releasing the hold, City Jack drops Tarantella. The hardcore veteran falls to his
knees, clutching his sides. He gets back to his feet and shoots his leg up, catching City Jack
with a superkick right under the chin!]


*TWACK!*


JR: Superkick...but City Jack's still on his feet!

DD: Keep at it, man! Do the world a favor and take the title away from this piece of crap!

[Tarantella runs at City Jack, hooking him into a front facelock and leaping into the air,
spinning slightly, almost hanging there for a split-second, before _DRIVING_ City Jack's head
back into the canvas! Face pop!]


*THUD!!!*


JR: RUNNING TORNADO DDT BY TARANTELLA!! THIS MIGHT BE IT!!!

DD: OH, PLEASE LET IT BE!!!!


ONE!!!





TWO!!!





THREE!!!

[Three?]

[...]

[HUGE POP!]

JR: NO!!!! ELI FRANCOIS SAID CITY JACK GOT HIS SHOULDER UP IN TIME!!!

DD: DAMNIT!

[Tarantella can't really believe it, and slaps the mat with both hands in frustration. He gets
to his feet and climbs to the second turnbuckle. He leaps off and scissors City Jack by the
head. With a labored twist of his body, he manages to snap City Jack up and _OVER_ in something
that vaguely resembles a hurricanrana...]


*THUD!*


Crowd: OH!


JR: RANA!!!

DD: How the hell did he manage to do that!? That was friggin' amazing!!!

JR: AND HE'S GOT THE PIN!!!



ONE!!!





TWO!!!





THRE...KICKOUT!!!

[HUGE POP!]

JR: CITY JACK WON'T STAY DOWN!!! What heart!

DD: Either that, or he smells that bag of peanuts that little girl in the front row has...

JR: I don't know, but it looks like Tarantella might've hurt himself on that move.

[Looking a bit annoyed, Tarantella gets back to his feet, slightly limping after that awkward
landing. He climbs back to the top turnbuckle and waits for City Jack to rise. As the
Television champion gets to his feet, he turns around, just in time to see two hundred and
thirty some-odd pounds of Tarantella diving straight at him...


FACE POP!!!


...and he catches him.]

JR: HE CAUGHT HIM!!! CITY JACK CAUGHT TARANTELLA AGAIN!!!

DD: Oh no...

[City Jack places Tarantella down, adjusting his position and catches him with a massive
Metropill forearm smash! Face pop!]

JR: METROPILL!!!!!

DD: Awwwww...

[Tarantella spins around, right into a bearhug...]


*THUD!!!*


[...and into a belly-to-belly suplex!!]

JR: METROBOOM!!!!!

DD: ...CRAP!!!


ONE!!!








TWO!!!







THREE!!!


[HUGE FACE POP!]


[DING DING DING!!]


JR: HE DID IT!!! CITY JACK WINS!!!!!! He beats Tarantella!!

DD: Who the hell can beat this guy!?

JR: Tarantella came awfully close, but in the end, City Jack was just too much. I don't know,
but the legend of City Jack and the GIW Television title continues to grow!

DD: God, just shut up!


AH: Ladies and gentlemen.. the winner of the match.. and STILL YOUR GIW TELEVISION CHAMPION..


CITY JACK!!!!!!!!


[The crowd pops HUGE for City Jack who grabs his belt and does a fat man jig for the crowd to
an even bigger pop.]

DD: Goddamn I hate this tubby bitch! Somebody WILL rain on his parade, and soon, I guarantee
it!

JR: Got some inside sources?

DD: Perhaps.

JR: Well.. while we wait for said inside sources to surface.. let's take you to some
prerecorded comments from a newcomer to the scene..

[Cut to prerecorded footage.]

["Earlier Today."]

[A soft hiss is heard as we fade in on the Louisiana skyline. Periodic fits of rain and wind
fill the sky as the faint hoot of a hunting howl and the distant forlorn howling of wolves
drowns out the aforementioned hiss. Underneath the wretched sky is a single figure, his body
cloaked in tattered black tapestry and nothing more. The bald-headed tyrant stands motionless,
his bare feet grinding into the foul smelling sludge beneath him.

As the beads of water dance off his forehead he refuses to break his hard glare, piercing the
screen with his dead-set black eyes. Softly, the hiss breaks the silence once more and as the
camera cascades downwards we take notice of a long King Snake that rattles across the bemired
ground in front of this brooding figure. The man's thin digits gradually intertwine as his
pursed lips part for the first time.]

"There will come nights when I will feel the need to get away from it all."

[His voice is that of a quiet, callous authority.]

"I will put on clothes that are dark, and slink like a shadow. All alone, no one will
recognize me. No one will pop off as if I am not dangerous when not being portrayed as sick
human being on the very television set that you are looking into now."

[He shrugs, unconcerned.]

"I will become the night. These are the times that will remind me of why I walk this life
alone, this is when I will remember that I decided to be who I am and who I shall become. This
is when I realize that my testament to kill is not some diabolical or cruel punishment to
destroy the faith of the human race. My life does not revolve around making people unhappy, it
does not revolve around taking the lives of the innocent."

[There is a long pause, we can hear the hiss of the rainstorm. The droplets of moisture sink
in the sand, forming puddles at the feet of the man before us.]

"But to insist that maybe I am punishing the world merely to punish myself would be quite
heinous but in a matter of time [pause] these accusations will arise. And when this happens I
will look back and bring this day to your attention and calmly say, "I told you so" if only to
make you play the role of the fool.

I do all of these things because I am powerful, and I am grand, and I am the one that you shall
shrink from. There is comfort in causing fear. There is comfort in being the hunter. There
is a certain level of gratitude in knowing that when I cause pain, the suffering is on my
terms, not yours.

It reminds me who I am, it will soon remind you all of who I am.

And when you oppose me, you will find out who you really are."

[The man's facial expression is barren as the snake slithers unattended beneath him.]

"And I ask of you all to see this as my fair warning, for once things begin I will make it
rather clear that I will never feel for any of you on a personal level. The beauty of telling
you all who I am allows extended satisfaction after I dismantle you because sadly, I know
nothing about any of you.

In the end.

I still plan on knowing nothing about any of you.

Call it ignorance, call it deranged, I call it my way of living. I wish not to form any type
of common bond with any of you, I choose not to relate with my colleagues on any level whether
it be good or bad, humorous or serious, because I want nothing tying me down.

No set backs.

No friends.

No remorse."

[He shakes his head, the King Snake coils around his right leg.]

"I expect many of you to fight for the glory of the battle, modern day heroes. I am sure in
some light many of you are seen as incorruptible men, strong men, a talented men. I pity you
all, I plan on pummeling your faces into deformation. I will envy you when you return at the
heels of my boots one day, begging me for another chance.

And I shall give it to you, repeating the same process over again.

And this goes for everyone out there, not just the first poor bastard to face me. But as much
as I wish I could say I had enough pity to go around, I sadly have none left for this God
forsaken business, this place.

My ways might not be justified, they may not be right, but they are my ways, and I stand by
them.

And I will continue to stand by them, no matter what."

[A firm nod.]

"The end is near, gentlemen."

[The snake is gone.]

"The Razorblade is on his way."

[Darkness.]

[Cut to the commentators.]

DD: I saw a snake! It's King Snake!!!!!

JR: What?!

DD: Hahaha! I'm joking man, I doubt even the Grand Isle Wrestling offices would hire that
cum-guzzler.

JR: Amen to that.

DD: Whoever the Razorblade is, he's pretty cryptic.. which already pissed me off.

JR: What a shocker that is.

DD: I know!

JR: [sighs] Up next we've got a our first of two big semi-final matches for the Heavyweight
Title tournament.. in just a few minutes Leviticus Nelson and Russ Brady will go toe to toe to
decide who is the first man to get into the finals..

DD: Who cares?

JR: Many including myself.. but first.. let's hear from Leviticus Nelson and Bobby Joe DeFay..

DD: Goddamn child molester gets too much mic-time.

[The camera focuses in on a chilling image, a single man, camera center, with a giant behind
him, arms crossed, staring foward at the camera as well. Bobby Joe DeFay stands, a mere child
in stature compared to Nelson, merely smirks, wildly, as he looks over his right shoulder, as
Nelson's face tells the entire story. The giant glares foward, looking into the camera, his
chin slowly quivering with anger, as the giant rolls his neck from side to side. DeFay removes
a gold cross from around his neck, and holds it in his hand, as he looks back at Nelson once
more, before opening his mouth, speaking with intent, with quiet ease.]

DeFay: It's one thing, to attack a man, and want that man to bite on your emotion, and your
ego. It's all together something else, to nip on the heels of a sleeping giant, hoping he'll
someday rise...someday remove himself from tha pain and anger that devours his soul.

[DeFay looks at the cross in his hand.]

DeFay: I've seen it all, all across this country. Men that would sell their own families, just
to get one more roll of the dice. Men that would attack their own mother, to merely get that
one last chance to ride a horse to the finish line. Men who would risk their entire livelihood,
just to get in line, to hope maybe they're winning number is called.

I've seen every possible gambler...

But never one as naive as you.

[DeFay closes his eyes.]

DeFay: I won't lie, this man is nothing more then a horse to me. I'll put my money behind him,
until he stops winning...then I had hoped to treat him like any other...and merely end him.
That's what I do, I pick a winner, and I do whatever I have to do, to ensure he wins. But I
never bargained for this. See, this is professional wrestling. I figured, roll the giant out,
and make some money. He's a freak, in a freak show, the ultimate money maker for a man that's
always willing to make a quick buck...

That was my intention...

Until you showed your face McBaine...

And now I can no longer control him...

[DeFay slowly opens his hand, dropping the cross, as Nelson merely glares at him, before DeFay
side steps slowly, as Nelson continues a path foward, the giant covering the screen.]

Nelson: Any other toys?

[Nelson uncrosses his arms, his massive hand rubbing the back of his head.]

Nelson: Baseball bats, spooky stories, cowardly attacks...

[Nelson balls his giant hands into fists, continually glaring foward.]

Nelson: There comes a time, McBaine, when you'll finally realize the error of your ways. There
comes a time, when you must realize, 'bove all son, hitting a giant with a pea shooter...

Just makes you a dead son of a bitch.

[Nelson brushes aside DeFay, as DeFay attempts to speak.]

Nelson: You want me? You want to be a bad-ass? You want to re-kindle that there dying flame in
your heart son? Well, I'm not real gawd damn hard to find. I'll be there, waiting for you
McBaine, will you be willin' to glare me good eye to good eye? Or, will you continue to be the
lil' kid, shooting rocks at the giant, hoping he'll one day go away.

[Nelson leans down, grabbing the cross off the floor, taking it in his hands.]

Nelson: I used to pray for salvation while I was locked behind those cold steel bars. I used to
pray for the day that I could feel like I had received atonement for my actions...for taking a
man's life. I used to pray...pray that I'd no longer feel the pain from killing another man...

Now I just pray I get to get my hands around your neck...

[Nelson's eyes bulge.]

Nelson: So I can tell God to f[BLEEP!] himself, and his redemption...

And end your miserable life.

[Nelson slowly leaves to his right, the camera fading to black.]

JR: Does Nelson look angry or what, Dirk?

DD: You'd be pissed too if you had to do the bidding of that little troll DeFay believe you me.

JR: Well.. without any more hesitation let's go over to Antonio Hervez for the introductions..

[Cut to Hervez wobbly in the ring.]


AH: Ladies an' gentlemen.. our next contest is scheduled for one fall with no time limit.. and
it is a SEMI-FINAL match of our HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE TOURNAMENT!! [POP!!!] Introducing first..


#BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNGGGG!!!"#





#BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNGGGG!!!"#


[As the fans pop for the church bells and thus by proxy for Metallica's "For Whom the Bell
Tolls" Russ Brady kicks the curtains open and stomps down the aisle as the fans reach out and
try to touch him. Brady blows past them getting to the ring with a purpose, and taking the
midget's microphone. The music abruptly cuts off as Brady holds the mic, bristling.]

JR: There is one angry man.

DD: There is one illiterate redneck.

[Brady stops, dead center of the ring, and turns his gaze toward the entrance way.]

RB: Ah ain't never needed no reason t' fight. It's whut Ah do an' it's whut Ah lahk t' do.
McBaine, Faith, whoever, if it's me yer lookin' for y'ain't gotta look to far. Ah'm here long
'fore th' show starts...an even 'en, it ain't gotta be in th' ring neither. It could be a bar,
an' alley way...Ah'd just as soon fight ya there.

McBaine, ya blin' ol' bastard...Ah know you made a career on pushin' people aroun', on scaring
everyone an' they brother. An' ya made yer reputation on bein' the baddest sumbitch on the
block...but Ah got some bad news fer ya. Ya can talk 'bout Jack er Chris an' all the monsters
ya want, ya can swing a bat till yer hearts content...but you ain't never gon' scare Russ
Brady. An as fer bein' the baddest sumbitch on GIW's block...well, should the day ever come,
Ah'll let ya make yer own conclusions.

[Brady pauses, to slight applause and cracks his neck, still looking at the entrance.]

RB: An' Ryan Faith...ya blindsided me. Ya stuck yer nose where it don't b'long...but don't
sweat it, boy. Ah ain't gonna demand no 'pology from ya, nuthin' lahk 'at. Ah'm just gonna warn
ya....

[Suddenly "Sabra Cadabra" by Black Sabbath pops up on the pa system, and out steps Ryan Faith.
Faith is wearing a white tank top with a plaid shirt wrapped around his waist. He's also
wearing cut off jeans shorts and his wrestling boots. He pushes his shaggy hair out of his
face, as he raises the mic to his mouth.]

RF: Well, what you got to warn me about? How tough guy? Shouldn't I be the one warning you
about running about at the mouth?

[Brady just glares at the smirking faith.]

RB: Well wiseass, Ah ain't gonna say it but once...yer on mah list. Blindsidin' me, droppin' me
on mah head...'at was all well'n good. But now ya got somethin' awful headin' yer way. Jes'
thought ya might wanna know.

RF: [smirking] Hell Russ, most of the words coming out of your mouth, I don't even understand.
But I heard something about a list and me being on it. Is that correct, hick?

RB: Yeah, ya got it right. Tell ya what, fer a retard ya speak pretty well. Naw, ya gonna say
er do somethin' worth mah time or am Ah gonna have t' remove ya mahself?

[Faith enters the ring and steps into Brady's face.]

RF: Well, if its worth your time, I'd like to see you remove me from here.

[Faith smiles]

RB: Never let it be said Ah ain't a fair man. Ah'm not sure if ya really do have a death
wish...so Ah'll give ya t' the count o' three to get yer ass out o' the ring...'fore Ah do it
for ya.

RF: Let me help you count...



ONE...



TWO...



RB: Oh fuckit...

[With that Brady drops the microphone and _waffles_ Faith with a venomous right hand! POP! Ryan
drops to the ground and Russ rushes him, kicking him until Faith rolls out of the ring, to the
floor.]

RB: Next tahm ya little sonofabitch, Ah won't be so nice 'bout it!

[Faith stands back up and grabs the mic... angry as hell.]

RF: Oh its all good Russ. Cos sooner or later, you'll have to test your faith!

[And with that the fans boo massively as Faith turns and walks towards the back.. quickly
exiting angrily as Brady begins to warm-up by the ropes.. and finally giving Hervez his mic
back.. Hervez just a tad agitated.]

DD: I wouldn't piss that little bastard off, last time I did.. he pissed on your car Jake.

JR: He did?!

DD: Yeah.. all over your dorr handle.

JR: That little bas-


AH: And his opponent..


["Bad Blood" by Sepultura kicks up, as Leviticus Nelson begins his slow walk to the ring. In
front of the giant, walks his "handler" Bobby Joe Defay, with an arrogant, yet attentive smile
on his large face. Leviticus shows no emotion, with nothing but a stone look on his face, as he
continues to walk towards the ring.]


AH: On his way to the ring.. he weighs in tonight at 397 pounds and hails from Lufkin, Texas..
he is accompanied to the ring by Bobby Joe DeFay [Mixed Pop!].. he is..


LEVITICUS NELSON!!!!!!!!!!!


[Defay slowly stops in front of the ring, and looks back at Leviticus, and then points in the
ring. Leviticus nods, closing his eyes, and heads towards the ring. As the song continues,
Leviticus strides over the top rope, and enters the ring. Defay slowly walks up the ring steps,
stopping at the top step, as Leviticus looks back and nods slowly, yet again. Leviticus grabs
the top rope, and closes his eyes, begining a slow prayer, as you can see in detail, the
massive amount of tattoo's on his arm. His large hands grip the rope tightly, as he stops the
prayer, opens his eyes, and slowly turns around, glaring across the ring. Brady turning his
back and working with the ropes.]


------------------------------------------------------------
Grand Isle Wrestling: Semi-Finals of HW Title Tournament!!!

Leviticus Nelson w/Bobby Joe DeFay vs. Russ Brady

Written By: Greg Roberts
------------------------------------------------------------


[Suddenly, Nelson charges and nails Brady from behind with a running clothesline!]

JR: It's on! It's on!

DD: Ring the damned bell!


[DING! DING! DING!


[Nelson unleashes a battery of clubbing forearms, knocking Brady to the mat! Nelson starts
putting the boots to Brady, stomping and kicking him in the back and the ribs!]

JR: Nelson is out of control! Get in there, ref!

DD: He's stomping a mudhole in him!

[Nelson pulls Brady up and whips him hard into the corner, then follows him in with a hard
running clothesline! Brady slumps but Nelson pulls him up and...


*** CRACK ***


... delivers a hard knife-edge chop to his chest!]


CROWD: WHOOO!


[Nelson lifts Brady's chin...


*** CRACK ***


... and chops him again!]


CROWD: WHOOO!


JR: Good Lord! Listen to those chops!

DD: Brady's chest is caved in!

[Brady grimaces and covers up, but Nelson grabs him by the arm and whips him across the ring!
Brady hits the corner hard and Nelson charges in after him!]

JR: Brady got the knee up!

[Nelson turns and staggers out of the corner, holding his jaw, then turns back to the corner...
and eats a big running clothesline from Brady! Nelson hits the mat and Brady is on him,
stomping him mercilessly! The ref yells at Brady, but Brady steps up the assault, kicking
Nelson hard int he ribs!]

JR: And Brady is on the offensive now!

DD: Get up, Nelson!

[Brady pulls Nelson up, scoops him up, and bodyslams him hard back down to the canvas! Brady
leaps and drops a knee down across Nelson's forehead! Brady scrambles over and covers Nelson!]









ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!









TWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!









JR: No! Nelson kicked out with authority!

DD: Wishful thinking by Brady there!

[Brady gets to his feet, pulling Nelson up with him! Brady whips Nelson into the ropes, Nelson
rebounds and ducks Brady's clothesline, then propels himself into the opposite ropes! Nelson
rebounds and Brady leaps for a Thesz Press, but Nelson catches him and falls backwards,
dropping him across the top rope throat-first!]

JR: Big hot-shot by Nelson! What a reversal!

DD: Brady's in a world of hurt now!

[Nelson pulls Brady up, then sends him over the top rope and to the floor! The ref yells at
Nelson, but Nelson steps through the ropes and hops to the floor!]

JR: Nelson's taking it outside!

DD: Brady is in big trouble now!

[Nelson pulls Brady up by the hair and slams him head-first into the guardrail! Brady slumps
but Nelson pulls him up, lays him across the rail back-first, and clubs him hard across the
chest with a big forearm! Brady slumps and Nelson starts stomping the crap out of him, driving
him down to the floor! Ringside fan pop!]

JR: Get out there ref! Nelson is kicking the hell out of Brady!

DD: Hey, this is where Nelson shines, Rodgers! And I may not like the man, but he's pulling out
all the stops here!

[Nelson rolls under the rope into the ring to break the count, then rolls back out! He grabs
Brady and pulls him to his feet, marches him over to the ringsteps, and slams him head-first
into the steps! The ref yells at Nelson to bring it back in, and Nelson just gives the ref a
quick glare. Nelson grabs Brady, pulls him up, then rolls him back into the ring! Nelson rolls
in behind him and covers him!]









ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!









TWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!









JR: No! Brady kicked out!

DD: Brady's one tough customer, I'll give him that! It's gonna take more than a little
extracurricular activity like that to put him down!

JR: Extracurricular?! I'm impressed, Davidson!

DD: Hey, I didn't go to public school!

[Nelson pulls Brady up and into a front-facelock, grabs him by the tights, and lifts him high!
The crowd pops as Nelson holds Brady aloft for a few seconds, then drops him to the mat with a
vertical suplex! Nelson pops up quickly, measures Brady, and drops a big elbow down across his
chest! Nelson quickly covers Brady again!]









ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!









TWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!









JR: No! Brady got the shoulder up!

DD: Nelson's gonna have to work him over a little more!

[Nelson slaps the mat and gets to his feet, pulling Brady up with him. Nelson whips Brady hard
into the corner, then follows him in with a running clothesline! Brady slumps but Nelson pulls
him up and whips him across the ring into the corner, then follows him in again!]

JR: Brady moved!

DD: Nelson hit the corner hard!

[Nelson staggers back out of the corner and Brady wraps his arms around Nelson's waist, lifts
him, and drives him into the mat with a belly-to-belly suplex!]

JR: Both men are down!

[The ref steps in and starts his count!]




ONE!




TWO!




[Brady gets to his knees!]




FOUR!




FIVE!




[Nelson to his knees, and Brady grabs the ropes and pulls himself to his feet! Brady grabs
Nelson, pulls him up, and throws a couple of right hands into his jaw! Brady whips Nelson
across the ring... no! Nelson reverses the whip and sends Brady into the ropes! Brady rebounds
and Nelson bends over for a back-bodydrop, but Brady hurls himself over Nelson and rolls him up
with a sunset flip!]









ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!









TWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!









JR: No! Nelson kicked out!

DD: Are these guys actually wrestling?!

JR: It looks that way!

DD: Damn them!

[Brady gets to his feet quickly and grabs Nelson as he gets to his knees! Brady starts
jackhammering fists into Nelson's forehead!]

DD: Now that's more like it, damnit!

[Brady pulls Nelson up, scoops him up, and slams him hard back down to the mat! Brady throws an
arm into the air and heads for the corner!]

JR: Brady's going aerial!

DD: Are you kidding me?! Brady's go no business going to the air!

[Brady scales to the second turnbuckle and turns to face Nelson! The crowd pops as Brady throws
an arm into the air and leaps!]

JR: Nelson moved! Brady missed the big legdrop!

DD: Serves him right! Stick to what you know, Brady!

[Nelson gets to his feet, pulling Brady up with him! Nelson whips Brady across the ring, Brady
rebounds, and Nelson catches him with a big spinning powerslam! Nelson covers!]









ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!









TWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!









JR: Brady kicked out!

DD: And Nelson is pissed!

[Nelson slaps the mat and points at the ref, but the ref shows him two fingers! Nelson pulls
Brady up and locks him in a standing headscissors! Nelson yells at the crowd and picks Brady
up, holding him in the air for a moment, then nearly puts him through the mat with a big
release powerbomb! Nelson drops and covers Brady again!









ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!









TWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!









JR: No! Brady got the shoulder up at two and three-quarters!

DD: What the hell!? Can Francois even count to three anymore?!

[Nelson pulls Brady up and whips him across the ring, but Brady reverses the whip! Nelson
rebounds and ducks Brady's clothesline, propelling himself into the opposite ropes! Brady
wheels around as Nelson rebounds!]

JR: THESZ PRESS! THESZ PRESS!

DD: Damn the Thesz Press!

[Brady hammers away on Nelson's forehead, then gets to his feet, pulling Nelson up. Brady whips
Nelson across the ring into the ropes again, Nelson rebounds, and Brady scoops him up and nails
him with a bug spinning powerslam of his own!]

JR: Now _that_ was impressive!

DD: Cover him, you idiot!

[Brady covers Nelson!]









ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!









TWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!









JR: No! Nelson kicked out!

DD: Wait a minute, there's somebody at the entrance curtain!

[The crowd turns to the curtain, and immediately starts booing!]

JR: It's Ryan Faith! What's that turncoat doing out here?!

DD: I don't think he's collecting for the Red Cross!

[Brady gets to his feet, unaware that he's being watched from the aisle! Brady pulls Nelson up,
locks his leg, and nails him with a Russian Legsweep! Brady quickly covers Nelson again!]









ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!









TWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!









JR: No! Nelson got the shoulder up!

DD: Here comes Faith!

[The crowd continues to boo as Faith makes his way to ringside! Brady sees him, and heads to
the ropes!]

JR: Ignore him, Brady! Concentrate on Nelson!

DD: It's kinda hard to ignore Ryan Faith, Rodgers! The man turned his back
on Russ Brady!

[Brady turns back to Nelson, but Nelson is up, and he throws a big right hand staggering Brady!
Another! Another! Nelson backs Brady into the ropes, then grabs him and whips him across the
ring! Brady ducks Nelson's clothesline and propels himself into the opposite ropes!]

JR: Faith tripped him! What the hell is that!?

DD: Brady's down! Get on him, Nelson!

[Brady gets to his feet and turns to point a finger at Faith, who smiles and backs off! Brady
yells at Faith then turns around... right into a Nelson chokehold!]

JR: NO! NO! NO!

[Nelson lifts Brady and drives him into the mat with a big chokeslam!]

JR: DAMN HIM! DAMN RYAN FAITH!

[Nelson falls on top of Brady for the cover!]









ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!









TWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!









THHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!









[DING! DING! DING!]


DD: It's over! It's over! Nelson advances!


AH: Ladies and gentlemen.. the winner of the match.. and the first man to advance to the FINALS
OF THE GIW HEAVYWEIGHT TOURNAMENT..


LEVITICUS NELSON!!!!!!!


[Stilla big time pop for Nelson no matter how the outcome played out! Bobby Joe DeFay slides
into the ring and helps his monster to his feet as Faith starts to walk back down the aisle
ultra-pleased.]

JR: Russ Brady got screwed, Davidson! You know and I know it, and I don't even think Nelson
knew what had happened!

DD: Hey, Brady shoulda paid attention to his match, Rodgers! This was a tournament match, for
Pete's sake! What the hell was he thinking letting Faith get in his head like that?

JR: Oh yeah, let's blame the victim! Russ Brady was robbed here tonight, Davidson! Plain and
simple!

DD: Like it really matters to you? Be happy, one of the big good guys one regardless, you and
your happy marks got one foot in the door.

JR: [sighs] That's not the point, and lemme tell you this.. that Ryan Faith is gonna get a
colossal butt-whippin' from Russ Brady believe you me!

DD: Doubtful.

JR: Whatever.. it do-

DD: Blah. Look at that dejected Russ Brady storming towards the back, hah!

[Yep, Brady is up and pissed and storming towards the back.. quickly out of view as Nelson and
DeFay walk to the back as well.]

JR: Well.. we got our big ma-

["Atomic Clock" by Monster Magnet begins to blast throughout the venue.. quickly shutting up
Rodgers, as "Violator" Bobby Ray Wilkins makes his way out the back to a loud chorus of boos.
Wilkins is dressed in a black leather vest and a pair of blue jeans, with black cowboy boots,
and looks very annoyed with all of the boos directed his way, as he rolls into the ring and
gets a ring mic.]

BRW: Ah ain't gonna tolerate all this here tomfoolerah tonight!

[HEEL POP!]

BRW: Nawh, nawh, y'all ain't gettin' tha big picture, bawhs an' gurhls! Ah'ma haveta spell it
out fah yer asses, so pay attenshun ta me!

[Wilkins holds up one finger... no, not that one.]

BRW: First, foremost, tha beginnin', an' tha end o' ev'rythang ya'll need ta know when
watchin' one o' these here G-I-W programs is...

Ah'm tha greatest summabitchin' rassler 'round nyah!

[The crowd lets him have it for that one.]

BRW: See now, that's why Ah ain't mad 'bout what 'appened las' week... Ah ain't mad 'bout
losin' that match 'gainst... uh, what was his name again?

[BRW looks to the crowd for help, but before they can say "Russ Brady"...]

BRW: Fahget him, 'cuz see, he ain't nobody worth rememberin' no way! He ain't got tha type o'
skill that Ah got! He ain't no classy in-dee-vid-u-al lahk mahself... he just got lucky 'cuz
o' some bad officiatin' an' a bunch o' yellabellied jackasses runnin' in on a match that was
_destined_ ta be a G-I-W classic!

But Ah ain't mad 'bout that... no bawh, Ah sure ain't... 'cuz Ah ain't want tha damn
Heavyweight Title no way!

What's tha word 'Heavyweight' got ta do wit' mahself?

Not a damn thang... 'cuz Ah deserve better! Ah am a bonafide _World_ Champ'n if there ever was
one, and all o' y'all better realize that fact!

[BRW nods to himself, as the crowd continues to pepper him with boos.]

BRW: That's right, that's right, y'all keep agreein' with me! Yer booin' me on tha outside,
but yer noddin' on tha inside like a bunch o' people at a pulpit when Dr. Martin Luther Tha
King was givin' one o' his upliftin' sermons! Ah understand that reverse psychology
whatsahoosit, so it's O-K by me!

[BRW wipes his brow.]

BRW: But lahk Ah was sayin', Ah deserve better than a simple raggedy ol' Heavyweight Title!
Ah do! Ah got all tha qualificashuns that make me well worthy o' a belt greater than tha G-I-W
Heavyweight Title.

First off, Ah'm from Texas... and that makes me greater than ev'ry summabitchin' bastard in
this damn arena!

[HUGE HEEL CROWD POP!]

BRW: Second, Ah throw tha best damn lar'at in tha business!

[HUGE HEEL CROWD POP!]

BRW: ...what y'all keep yellin' "Kool-Aid" fah?! Shaddup, ya bastards!

Anyway, an' thirdly... mah last name ain't Woodall!

[BRW lets out a rather loud, annoying laugh.]

BRW: See now, since Ah'm from Texas, Ah'm usually a peaceful, noble man with tha heart of a
lion... but that Woodall done awakened somethin' fierce in me! Ah feel like Ah can breath fahr
ev'ry time that bawh opens his mouth... see, Woodall is tha reason that me an' y'all don't get
along 'round here! He's poisonin' y'all minds, makin' ya believe that tha Violator is a bad
guy...

Well, Ah ain't.

[The crowd... yeah, they're still booing.]

BRW: Ah'm from Texas, Ah'm tha greatest rassler in tha world, an' Ah deserve not to be treated
like a... like a... like a _Canadian_! That's right, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you...

[Needless to say, BRW is pointing at everyone in the crowd.]

BRW: All o' y'all is treatin' me like Ah'm some damn Canadian! Like Ah don't belong 'round
here, like Ah ain't good o' nothin'...

Well... ta hell with y'all!

If y'all can't believe in Bobby Ray, then Ah'm just gonna have to crush all yer damn heroes so
tiny that they'll all be goin' home in titty bags.

Lil'. Itty. Bitty. Titty. Bags.

[Wilkins taps his head.]

BRW: So, Ah got a plan. Ah figgered Ah'd toss out one o' dem open challenges t'any
summabitchin' bastard that wants ta get hit by tha greatest Lar'at in tha business on tha next
show!

But, it ain't gonna be no regular match... no sir!

Next week, Ah'll face any o' you bastards in a West Texas... uh... Death Match! Yeah! Tha
greatest match ever ta come outta Texas... and Ah'm gonna win it!

[The Violator grins eagerly, as "Atomic Clock" by Monster Magnet begins to blast throughout the
arena, as Wilkins makes his way to the back to a huge heel crowd pop.]

DD: And there goes the greatest damn man in professional wrestling today, God bless you Bobby
Ray!

JR: Good christ, you gotta be kidding me.

DD: Well.. he's one of the two best.. the other of which we are about to see in just a few
moments, ain't that right Jake?

JR: If you mean Doyle woodall, then yes, you are right.

DD: LIAR!! You are lucky I don't pimpsmack your ass back to goddamn Paradise Valley!

JR: Ouch.

DD: Exactly.

JR: Ladies and gentlemen.. before we go to our main event.. let's hear some comments recorded
earlier from one "Bad Eye" McBaine..

DD: Glad he made it back from El Aye..

JR: True, true.
If a wholly Great One rules, the people hardly know that he exists. Lesser men are loved and praised, still lesser ones are feared, still lesser ones are despised. How thoughtful one must be in what one says! The work done, business takes its course, and all people think: "We are free." - Lao Tzu

"Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children's children what it was once like in the United States where men were free." - Ronald Reagan

"The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government." - Thomas Jefferson
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[The camera cuts to find us lost within the sea of dingy and dusty vehicles belonging to those
who have gathered to watch a night of rustic violence... otherwise known as Grand Isle
Wrestling. The camera slowly surveys all the vehicles before locking on to one black pickup
truck in particular. This one vehicle has one facet that the other vehicles do not... it has
the Grand Isle warrior known as "Bad Eye" McBaine sitting on its bed.]

[McBaine is silent as the camera approaches, dressed only in a black tank top, jeans and boots.
Around his neck is the chain that he has used to launch many attacks on unsuspecting wrestlers
in the past weeks. In his hand he holds a roll of black electrical tape, which he watches quite
intently through his matted vines of hair.]

McBaine: Reputations...

[McBaine grabs the roll of tape between his clenched teeth and pulls a long strip of it free.]

McBaine: When all the blood has been spilled, all the bones have been broken and the dust has
finally settled...

Titles... Championships... even words... all become but one thing...

Meaningless...

[McBaine grabs hold of the strip of tape with his other hand and then uses his teeth to tear
the strip free from its former prison.]

McBaine: When one lives beneath 6 feet of worm and maggot infested soil... fame and gold
suddenly become a pointless commodity. The only thing that holds any _SHRED_ of meaning in the
end is one's...

Reputation...

[McBaine proceeds to wrap the strip of tape tightly around one of his wrists.]

McBaine: When one's name is said, do people shiver in disgust? Do people become silent in awe?
Or do those same people burst out in laughter?

[McBaine cocks his head to one side.]

McBaine: Do they snicker like they do at the giant of this federation based upon his
fearfulness? Or maybe those same people are filled with confusion and angst when the mention of
a young boy, who took a proper path to manhood, by the name of Faith?

[McBaine's single good eye finally looks up at the camera through his stringy jet black hair.]

McBaine: Tell me something, Doyle...

What do you think of when you hear the name...

"Bad Eye" McBaine?

Do you think of a man, passed his prime, hoping to relive his glory days?

Or do you think of a monster whose blood lust won't let him sleep?

Do you think of a manic who speaks without rhyme and reason?

Or is it more of a thought of fear built from the last time you crossed my path?

[McBaine pauses for a brief moment...]

McBaine: Or do you just see what the ignorant world sees... nothing more than a large black eye
patch?

[McBaine's lips slowly begin to twist into a crooked smile.]

McBaine: That's exactly it, isn't it Doyle? You see me as nothing but an eye patch...

You see nothing but a shameful man trying to hide the disfigurement of fate's hand...

You see a man trying to gain retribution on a world that stole what was once the essence of
life to him...

[McBaine chuckles slightly under his breath.]

McBaine: Poor delusional soul...

[The twisted joy in McBaine's face suddenly dissipates.]

McBaine: I am far... far from that...

I am a man who was a savior to those who would unknowingly tread into the darkness of the
human soul... to one day bring those lost into the light...

I am a man who would dedicate himself to a life lacking in fame and fortune... and instead
trade them in for screams and nightmares merely to serve as an enforcer... an Enforcer of
Enlightenment, if you will... bound to show mankind the horrid error of its ways...

[McBaine's eye falls back to the roll of tape in his hand.]

McBaine: And what are you seen as Doyle?

[McBaine pulls another strip of tape and frees it with his teeth.]

McBaine: In my _EYE_ you bring about but one feature... one trademark which seems to describe
you to a perfect "T"...

[McBaine begins to wrap the strip around his other wrist.]

McBaine: A cigar...

[As McBaine continues, his eye does not leave his wrist.]

McBaine: I guess that my answer must make you feel quite happy, especially since you never
allow yourself to be seen without that one accessory. It does describe you so well, now doesn't
it Doyle?

After all,cigars steal the ability to breath from one's chest... and well let's be honest
Doyle... after listening to your drab and uninventive Texas garble, many people wish for your
breath to be stolen from you...

And then we have the fact that cigars have been linked to cancer...

[McBaine's eye, pops up for a moment as if a revelation has crossed his mind.]

McBaine: Cancer... yes... that actually fits you a bit better, Doyle. Where as some of us
entered this "sport" under the intention that it was first form about... you entered it for a
completely different reason...

Where as I entered this lifestyle in order to hear the screams of those that peer into my
eye... you entered it in order to gather something that is meaningless... gold...

Gold and championships are for those that are _true_ of heart...

[McBaine's lips contort into a smirk.]

McBaine: They are for monsters like me...

Not cancerous leeches like yourself...

[McBaine raises both of his wrists to his face and inspects the tape binding them.]

McBaine: Those of us that are true of heart, have a higher purpose to uphold... and tonight one
of my purposes is to teach you first hand that greed is never repaid in anything but pain and
suffering...

[McBaine's torso suddenly begins to shake as he tries to swallow the laughter trying to escape
him.]

McBaine: Come hell... or high water...

[Cut.]

DD: See?!

JR: See what?

DD: I told you Woodall was a cancer!

JR: And I'm gonna believe what you and that delusional psychopath McBaine say?

DD: Delusional? He's a goddamn legend!

JR: And I don't discount that at all.. but the man is certifiable.. and I wouldn't take
anything that man says seriously unless it involved stomping me into pieces.

DD: Point well taken..

JR: Good.. and with that now settled let's take it over to Antonio Hervez for the introduction
for the main event!

[Cut to Antonio just one more time.]


AH: Ladies an' gentlemen.. our next contest is the MAIN EVENT OF THE EVENIN'!!! [BIG POP!!]
And it is a SEMI-FINAL match in our HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE TOURNAMENT!! [BIG POP!] And it is also
being dubbed the FIRST EVER GRAND ISLE STREET FIGHT!!! [SUPER POP!!] The rules are as follows..
there is no time limit.. no disqualifications [Pop!].. and no countouts [Pop!].. and FALLS
COUNT ANYWHERE!! [BIG POP!!] Introducing first..


[Suddenly, the opening riffs of Thin Lizzy's "Jailbreak" fill the arena!]


AH: Now making his way to the ring...


[The entrance curtain splits and "Dirty" Doyle Woodall, clad in a baggy blue jeans and black
Wolverine work boots, makes his way out to the top of the ramp. The fans shower him with cheers
as Woodall, a cigar clenched between his teeth, makes his way down the aisle towards the
ring...]

### Tonight there's gonna be a jailbreak ###
### Somewhere in this town ###
### See, me and the boys we don't like it ###
### So we're gettin' up and goin' down ###
### High and low, lookin' right to left ###
### If you see us comin' I think it's best ###
### to move away, do you hear what I say? ###
### From under my breath ###

[Woodall reaches ringside, stops to point a finger at and jaw with a fan at ringside, then
climbs up the steps and through the ropes into the ring...]

### Tonight there's gonna be a jailbreak ###
### Somewhere in the town ###
### Tonight there's gonna be a jailbreak ###
### So don't you be around ###
### Don't you be around ###


AH: ... from Las Cruces, New Mexico... weighing in at 270 pounds...


"DIRTY" DOYLE WOODALL!


[MONSTER FACE POP!!! for Woodall as he grins with the cigar still clenched between his teeth,
steps to center-ring, grins wickedly, and throws both fists into the air!]


AH: And his opponent..


["Until It Sleeps" by Metallica blasts over the PA as the fans rise and begin the biggest HEEL
POP of the night so far.. even as nobody has passed the curtain yet.]


AH: He weighs in tonight at 302 pounds and hails from The Valley of the Blind.. he is..


"BAD EYE" MCBAINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


[More ridiculously loud boos as everyone including Woodall eye the ewntranceway.. but still no
McBaine!!]

DD: Maybe he didn't make it back from El Aye afterall! What a damn travesty!

JR: We just saw a promo he cut earlier though.

DD: Oh yeah! Sweet!

[And with that.. heads start to turn towards the bar area.. as does Woodall's attention as the
camera's cut to a closer view.. with that we see McBaine at a stool.. getting up and pointing
at Woodall to..]

DD: Bring it Woodall!!


[POP!!!]


JR: And there goes Woodall!! He's gonna meet McBaine by the bar!! The fight is officially on!!


----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Grand Isle Wrestling: Main Event/Semi-Final of Heavyweight Title Tournament

"Dirty" Doyle Woodall vs. "Bad Eye" McBaine

Written By: Mike Gilliland
----------------------------------------------------------------------------


[DING DING DING!!!!!!]


JR: There goes Woodall through the crowd as McBaine awaits him with a bottle of beer in his
hand!!

DD: Lights out for Doyle, McBaine is gonna lay him out early here!

[Woodall wades through the GIW faithful and makes his way to the bar.. McBaine charging with
the bottle in hand.]

JR: Swing of the bottle [Pop!] ducked by Woodall! And there goes Woodall with big rights!!
Another! Another! Another! Grab of the head by the Dirty One..


[CCCCCCRRRRRAAAAAAASSSSSSHHHHHHH!!!!]


["G-I-W! G-I-W!"]

["G-I-W! G-I-W!"]

["G-I-W! G-I-W!"]


DD: Ouch!

JR: Doyle Woodall just tossed McBaine over the bar and into the big cabinet behind! Woodall
climbing onto the bar now.. back to his feet on the ba- [Thud!]

DD: And McBaine just pulled out Woodall's legs and the big man slams backfirst on the bar!

JR: McBaine back up behind the bar and he's got Woodall by the head..

[Thud!]

[Thud!]

[Thud!]

[Thud!]

JR: McBaine viciously pounding Woodall's head against the bar before dropping a elbow.. now two
across the sternum of the Dirty One!

DD: You think these two don't want that belt?

JR: Oh man.. this contest is just dripping with intensity here in the early going.. and the
fans are loving every moment of it.. as are we.

DD: Indeed.

[McBaine looks wildly at the crowd who boo before he drops another elbow.. and another..]

[Pop!]

JR: Rake to the eye by the Dirty One staggers McBaine back behind that bar! Woodall slides off
the bar and both men are behind it now..


[Thwap! WOOOOOOOOOOOO!]

[Thwap! WOOOOOOOOOOOO!]

[Thwap! WOOOOOOOOOOOO!]

[Thwap! WOOOOOOOOOOOO!]

[Thwap! WOOOOOOOOOOOO!]


JR: What wicked knife-edge chops by Doyle Woodall! [Oh!] But McBaine slows the onslaught down
with a knee strike to the stomach of Doyle.. irish whip.. reversed!!!!


[CCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!]


[BBBBBBBBIG POP!!!!!!!]


DD: Christ!!

JR: McBaine just sent headfirst right through the gateside wall of the bar!! Woodchips
exploding everywhere!! My God how vicious.. and Woodall is back on the bar!!

DD: Damn this guy.. he really has come to play.

JR: Woodall charging across the bar.. and he leaps..


[Thud!!! POP!!!]


JR: Big running splash off the bar!! Francois is on the spot!!


ONE!!!!!!!







TWO!!!!!!!







KICKOUT!!!!!

DD: Not even close!!

[Doyle Woodall gets back to his feet and surveys the circle of fans by the bar who pop
accordingly before returning his attention to McBaine.. who gets to his hand and knees.. a
small cut and blood flowing from the top of his head.]

JR: McBaine is busted open early here as Woodall picks McBaine back to his fe-, [Ohh!] low blow
doubles over the Dirty One!

[Booo!!]

DD: Hahaha! McBaine just ripped a chair right out of a kid's hands!!

JR: That kid was like 10 years old?!

DD: That's great!

JR: Woodall trying to get his bearing under him as he turns back aro-


[THWACK!!]


JR: My God what a chairshot to the skull of Woodall but the big man didn't go down!!


[THWACK!!!! BOOOOOOO!!]


DD: That time he did!!

JR: Two home run shots to the skull of the Dirty One by McBaine and by god has this match just
been a few minutes of sheer brutality.

DD: It may be over right here man..

JR: The Bad Eye seemingly looked as though he was gonna make the cover but now he has decided
to help Woodall back to his feet as he starts to carry his by his head towards..

DD: The kitchen!!

[Yep.. the door to the right of the bar leads to a small kitchen area..]

JR: Into and through the door goes Woodall with a healthy push from McBaine..

[McBaine enters the kitchen with Woodall on his hands and knees.. as McBaine starts to just
rain in with huge soccer style kicks to the ribs.. five.. six.. seven now as Woodall finally
rolls onto his stomach.]

JR: McBaine lifting Woodall back to his feet.. irish whip..


[CCCRRRRAAASSSSHHHHH!!]


JR: And into a tower of plates and dishes goes the Dirty One!! And McBaine is right on the
prowl..

DD: Deep fry his ass "Bad Eye"!!

JR: That's just sick man, not even McBaine would be THAT in-

DD: Oh really?!

[McBaine has Woodall by the hair and is carrying him towards.. yep, you guessed it, the deep
fryer which is bubbling with heated greatness.]

JR: Don't do it McBaine! Don't do it!

DD: Go for it!! YOU CAN DO IT!!!!!

JR: McBaine with a boot to the stomach.. he grabs Woodall's head and in0, no! [Pop!] Woodall
blocks!! Big elbow to the stomach stuns McBaine! And Woodall is reaching for something, and I
can't see what it is!

DD: He's tapping!

JR: Oh christ, whatever.

DD: Get 'em McBaine!

JR: McBaine grabs Woodall by the head!!


[BIG TIME HARDCORE POP!!!]


DD: HOLY SHEEIT!!

JR: WOODALL JUST JABBED MCBAINE IN THE SKULL WITH A FORK!!

DD: HE FORKED HIM!!

[Yep, McBaine staggers back and into a grill which is currently making some eggs and the such..
McBaine pulls the fork from his skull as blood starts to drip down his face, Woodall
charging..]


[TTTTTTTHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKK!!!]


DD: McBaine just waffled Woodall in the skull with a frying pan he pulled off the grill!!

JR: Goddamn!! That had to be damn near on fire! And it dropped Woodall like a rock!

DD: And look at McBaine just eyeing that fork with his blood all over it..

[McBaine has a sick, twisted look glaring towards the fork.. which he sticks in his mouth..
licking off the blood to a..

Sorta Mixed Sickness Pop!!]

DD: Hm. See.. even I must admit that is slightly crazy and definitely disgusting.

JR: He's an absolute goddamn psychopath.

DD: But he's damn clever and fun to watch!

JR: McBaine tossing that fork to the side as he picks up Woodall back to his feet.. and back
towards the door they go..

DD: McBaine has Woodall at his mercy right now and he wants to take it back towards the fans
since he always likes to give the fans their money's worth.

JR: Riiiiiight.

[McBaine throws Woodall through the opening as we cut back to inside the arena itself.]

DD: And look at McBaine directing traffic in the back of the arena.

[That's right.. McBaine is yelling at the fans to "Fucking move!" opening up a nice row of
chairs to use at his disposal..]

JR: Irish wh-, reversed by Woodall!!


[CCCCCCCRRRRRRAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!]


[BIG TIME POP!!]


JR: And into a row of chairs flies McBaine!!

DD: Gah! McBaine needs to stick with the gameplan.

JR: Which is?

DD: Seek and destroy.

JR: Isn't that what he was doing?

DD: Shut it.

JR: The Dirty One making his way over towards McBaine now.. and McBaine slowly getting back to
his feet as well.. weak overhand right by McBaine blocked by Woodall! [Pop!] And Woodall
peppering McBaine with stinging right!! Huge roundhouse ri-, ducked by McBaine!!

DD: McBaine quickly locks on a full nels-

[Pop!]

JR: But Woodall with a mule kick right to the rocks of McBaine double him over!! Standing
headscissors!!


[TTTTTTTHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDD/CCCCCCCRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!]


["HO-LY SHIT!!"]

["HO-LY SHIT!!"]

["HO-LY SHIT!!"]

["HO-LY SHIT!!"]


JR: BIG POWERBOMB ONTO ALL THOSE CHAIRS BY WOODALL AND MCBAINE IS DOWN THERE SOMEWHERE BENEATH
THE MOUNTAIN OF WRECKAGE!!

DD: I'm gaining some respect for this guy.. he's tough as nails and does whatever he must to
gain the advantage.

JR: And Woodall is flinging chairs out of the way.. and finally he drops down and hooks the leg
between the wreckage!!


ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!










TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!










TH-SHOULDER UP!!!

[BOOOOOOO!!]

JR: So close!!

DD: But say that!

JR: But McBaine got his shoulder up! What resiliency and I wish I could say I'm surprised, but
I'm not!

DD: Me neither, this man doesn't die!

JR: We've all noticed.

[Woodall rolls back and up to his feet.. a slight sigh as he had a glimmer of hope he'd have
won it there.. now taking a second to wipe some blood from his eyes before dropping down beside
McBaine..]

[Pop!]

DD: CHEAP DAMNIT!! ILLEGAL BLATENT CHOKE!!

JR: Woodall is choking the life out of the Bad Eye but it is NOT illegal! Anything goes Dirk,
anything goes!

DD: Oh damnit, what a trickster!

JR: As in the 80s glam band?

DD: Jesus farking christ no!

JR: Woodall letting go of the choke as McBaine rolls onto his stomach as he must be gasping for
some air right here.. Woodall back to his feet and grabs a chair..

[Pop!]

DD: These damn fans are ruthless!

JR: Ain't no fan more ruthless than a Grand Isle wrestling fan!

DD: Must be their inbredic nature.

JR: Dirk!

DD: Am I wrong?

JR: ...

DD: Exactly.

[Woodall kicks aside other chairs and the such making room for him and his chair.. which he
simply drops on the ground in front of him.. McBaine slowly back to a knee.]

JR: Seems like the Dirty One is waiting for McBaine to get to his feet which he finally is..
McBaine turns.. lunging laria-, ducked by McBaine.. Woodall turns!


[Clasp!]


JR: Standing choke by McBaine right above that chair! He lifts!!


[TTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!]


[BOOOOOOOOOO!!!]


DD: YES!!!!

JR: CHOKESLAM ONTO THE CHAIR BY MCBAINE!! WOODALL'S HEAD JUST BOUNCED OFF THAT CHAIR
VICIOUSLY!! THE COVER!!


ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!












TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!













KICKOUT!!!!!!!!!!

[BIG POP!!!]

JR: Good lord what intestinal strength exhibited here!!

DD: And McBaine looks slightly bewildered and I can't blame him.. I thought he had Woodall
there too.

[Yep, McBaine jumps to his feet though, his turn now to wipe the blood from his eyes as he
surveys the wreckage before him near the back of the Sanddollar Marina.]

JR: McBaine with a sadistic grin towards the crowd as he starts to put the boots to the downed
Dirty One.. McBaine lifting Woodall up to his feet.. power hoist..


[CRASH!!]


JR: And overhead throws him into a row of chairs in front of him!! What power by the big
monster!

DD: This guy is a machine Jake, an absolute wrecking ball of destruction!

JR: There is no denying the power and instinct of one "Bad Eye" McBaine.

DD: Damn skippy!

[BOOOOOOO!!]

JR: Well, that is uncalled for. McBaine just pushing aside fans left and right as he makes his
way over to the Dirty One who's trying to get back to his feet but having no such luck as of
this moment..

DD: Can you blame McBaine? Wouldn't you get the hell out of the way of that man?!

[McBaine stops in his tracks and eyes down a young kid wearing a Doyle Woodall t-shirt.. he
just glares at the kid.. and spits..]

[MONSTER BOOOOOO!!]

DD: HAHAHAHAHAHAA!! He just spit on a ten year old!! That man rules!!

JR: ABSOLUTELY UNCALLED FOR!

DD: Oh c'mon, admit that is damn hilarious!

JR: I will do no such thing!

DD: Then at least call the match.

JR: [sighs] McBaine apparently has gotten his rocks off with the fans for good as he finally
makes his way to Woodall who has now had some time to get his wi-


[POP!!]


JR: Woodall just sprung up and caught McBaine with a chop to the throat! [Pop!] and now he's
barreling down on McBaine with huge, thunderous right hands!! Kick to the stomach!!

[Woodall grabs McBaine into a front facelock.. about to drop down for a DDT!!]

DD: McBaine refusing to drop down and delivering some vicious rights to the body of Woodall!
Northern Lights Su-

JR: Blocked by Woodall!! Woodall wouldn't go for the ride!! Now Woodall ducks his head under
McBaine's arm and lifts!!

DD: Damnit!

JR: Vertical sup-, no! McBaine slips out the back!! Woodall turns!!


[BIG TIME HEEL POP!!!]


DD: Fireman's Carry!! He's got Woodall set for the Blind Valley Driver!!


[BIG TIME POP!!!]


JR: BUT NO!! WOODALL SLIPS OUT THE BACK AT THE LAST MOMENT!! HE DUCKS HIS HEAD FROM BEHIND
MCBAINE AND LIFTS!!


[TTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!]


JR: WHAT A VILE BELLY TO BACK SUPLEX INTO THE ROWS OF CHAIRS BY WOODALL!! THE PLACE IS GOING
NUTS AND THEIR ARE BODIES AND CHAIRS AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE!!

DD: Oh lord! And Woodall is semi-conscious and on top of McBaine!! The goddamn travesty!!

JR: FRANCOIS MAKES THE CALL!!


ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!













TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!












THRRRRRRR-KICKOUT!!!!!!


[DAMNIT DAMNIT DAMNIT HEEL POP!!]


DD: YES!! HOLY LORD YES!!

JR: I can't believe it! Doyle Woodall came within milliseconds from facing Leviticus Nelson in
the finals.. but McBaine just won't be denied!

DD: He can't be denied!

JR: If he takes a few more bumps to the noggin like that, he'll be done for.

[Woodall slowly climbs back to his feet.. staggering a bit and maintaining his balance holding
a few chairs still left in a seated position.. wiping more blood from his face, a somewhat
bewildered look as he eyes McBaine who is actually stirring and trying his damndest as well to
get to his feet.]

JR: I've said it already, but what heart and resiliency of these two men.. we may be ten
minutes into the match and they've already endured more punishment than most men do in any
match, anywhere.

DD: Here here.

JR: Woodall stalking back over to McBaine and stings in a vicious European uppercut that
staggers McBaine back.. but McBaine charges right back and pops Woodall in the face with a
forearm shiver sending Woodall staggering back!

[Hardcore Pop!]

DD: Business is about to pick up!

JR: McBaine has just lifted a chair off the ground.. [Pop!] and so has Doyle Woodall!

DD: A good old-fashioned standoff dueling charis scenario here!!

[Yep, both men hold the chairs up high and charge..


TTTTTTHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKK!!]


JR: Steel on steel and neither man backs down!! They both come with the backswing!


[TTTTTTHHHHAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKK!!!]


JR: And Woodall stung the hands of McBaine right there! Kick to the midsection doubles over
McBaine who drops the chair..


[TTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!]


[POP!!!!!]


JR: And a big chair to the shoulderblades of McBaine by Woodall has the Bad Eye on all fours!!
Woodall picks McBaine up..


[TTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!]


[BIG TIME POP!!!!]


JR: DDT ONTO THE CHAIR!! WOODALL JUST PLANTED MCBAINE HEADFIRST INTO THAT CHAIR ON THE
CONCRETE!! THE QUICK COVER!!!




ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!














TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!














TH-SHOULDER UP!!!

[BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!]

JR: What will keep McBaine down?!

DD: NOTHING!! HE'S A SOLDIER BABY!!

JR: No kidding.. and don't call me baby!

DD: I wasn't, dickless!

JR: Wicked sharp comeback there!

DD: Bah!

[The camera closes in on Woodall who lies on his back briefly before sitting up as the crowd
roars it's approval so far. He gets to his feet and points towards the ring to a pop!]

DD: The ring? What a novel idea!

JR: Indeed.

DD: Woodall can't get as hardcore as McBaine, so he's gonna try to get back to the land of
civilization, the wrestling ring.

JR: And nobody can blame him.

DD: True.

JR: Woodall lifting the big man from the Valley of the Blind to his feet..

[Woodall carries McBaine by the hair towards the guardrail near the ring.. they get within five
feet or so as Woodall grabs McBaine by the arm..]

JR: Wicked irish whip!


[TTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKK!!]


[BIG TIME POP!!]


DD: Holy christ!

JR: Woodall whipped McBaine so damn hard that McBaine just flipped right over that guardrail
with sick impact and speed!! McBaine is clutching his ribs inside the ringside area as you
gotta believe he may have busted a rib right there!!

DD: That was an irish whip with massive purpose, hot damn!

JR: A bid for the Heavyweight Title is on the line here Dirk, both men are ready to pull out
all the stops and then some for a chance at the gold!

DD: Amen to that.

[Pop!]

JR: Woodall bringing some hardware with him as he hops the guardrail with a chair in hand..
while Bad Eye gets to a knee and looks to be in BIG trouble here.

DD: He's in dreamland right now but if Doyle Woodall doesn't capitalize here it may cost him
dearly.

JR: For sure.

[The crowd settles back toward their seats now as Woodall stands behind McBaine who is on his
hands and knees prolly without a clue as to where his opponent is..]

JR: Woodall is just picking the right spot to attack here as it seems he wants McBaine back on
his feet..

[And that he is now.. as McBaine turns to face..]

JR: Woodall tosses the chair to McBaine as McBaine catches it.. lunging big boot, ducked by
McBaine!! Woodall turns!! Swing of the cha, ducked by Woodall and that sends McBaine spinning
around and back!!


[TTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!]


[BIG TIME POP!!!!!!!!!!]


DD: Damnit!!

JR: WOODALL JUST BLASTED A LARIAT INTO THE CHAIR AND INTO THE FACE OF "BAD EYE" MCBAINE!! THE
CHAIR WENT FLYING INTO THE CROWD OFF MCBAINE'S SKULL AND THE MAN FROM THE VALLEY OF TH BLIND IS
OUT LIKE A LIGHT ON THE CONCRETE!! WOODALL WITH THE COVER!!



ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
















TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!















THHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEE-SHOULDER UP!!!!

[SADDENED FAN REACTION POP!!]

DD: OOOOOOOOOOHH I-UHHHHHHHHHH, I'M STILL ALIVE!!

JR: Woodall can't believe it! I can't believe it! Nobody here can believe it but McBaine has
gotten a shoulder up!

DD: McBaine is taking quite a good amount of punishment from Doyle Woodall but his heart and
will to win is just too much Jake! Too much!!

[Woodall sits back up and gets to his feet to a nice pop from the crowd as he wipes the blood
from his face once again.. hands on his hips perhaps planning the next course of action.]

JR: I don't really know what Doyle Woodall has got to do to take care of McBaine once and for
all, I'd say take it up a notch, but what would that entail?

DD: An execution?

JR: Exactly.

DD: Maybe he could use his ringside surroundings to his advantage?

[What a great idea!]

JR: Woodall lifting the crimson-masked "Bad Eye" McBaine to his feet, a rather grotesque cut
over his right eye just wide open! Irish whip..


[THUNK!!]


JR: And into the guardrail goes McBaine! And Woodall right on top of his.. Irish whip and
across the ringside goes McBaine with Woodall following behind!

DD: It's like pinball!


[THUNK!! THWAP!!]


[POP!!]

JR: Oh my what impact!! McBaine into the guardrail and quickly met by a vicious running
clothesline that rocks him to a seated position on the ground! [Pop!] And now Woodall is
pointing to the ringpost!

DD: See! He took my advice! He may be smarter than I first thought.

JR: Whip into the ringpo-, reversed by McBaine! [Thunk!] And headfirst into the post goes
Woodall!! Woodall staggers back.. reverse headlock!!


[TTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!]


[BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!]


DD: REVERSE DDT ON THE CONCRETE!! MCBAINE PLANTED HIM ON THE CONCRETE!! THE COVER!!


ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!













TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!












THRRRRRR-KICKOUT!!

[Sigh of Relief Pop!]

JR: And now it's McBaine who is frustrated! What resiliency shown by both of these men, true
heart and guts!

DD: and look at McBaine, the fire in his eyes!

JR: I think that is blood.

DD: Beyond the blood, damnit!

[McBaine does seem to have a bloodthirsty look on his face as he gets to his feet, wipes the
blood from his forehead and eyes.. wiping it on his tank-top before lifting Woodall to his feet
and putting him in a front chancery..]

JR: McBaine lifts Woodall high into the air here!! This is trouble for the Dirty One for sure!


[TTTTTTTTHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!]


["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"]

["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"]

["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"]

["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"]

["HO-LY SHIT!! HO-LY SHIT!!"]


DD: Holy sheeit!

JR: Are you kidding me?! MCBAINE WITH A VICIOUS BRAINBUSTER ON THE FLOOR!! HE COULD HAVE
KILLED THE MAN WITH THAT MOVE!! HE HOOKS THE LEG AND LOOK AT THAT EVIL GRIN ON HIS FACE!!


ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





















TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




















THRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-KICKOUT!!!!!!!

[MONSTER POP!!]

JR: MY LORD!! WOODALL KICKED OUT!! WOODALL KICKED OUT OF THE BRAINBUSTER AND MCBAINE IS BESIDE
HIMSELF!

DD: This can't be damnit!

JR: McBaine just looks floored! He's yelling at Francois that it was a three count but it's to
no avail!

[Yep, McBaine even has Francois by the collar but then pushes the ref aside to some boos before
walking to the ring apron.. bending over and looking under the ring..]


[BIG TIME HARDCORE POP!!]


DD: Tabletime!

JR: McBaine pulling out a table here.. and he's wasting no time propping it up at ringside
here.. this could only mean big trouble for Doyle Woodall who is slowly stirring on the floor
next to the table.

DD: He's gonna get his ass put through the table! It is gonna rock so damn hard!

JR: McBaine finished propping up the table and has set his focus back onto Woodall who's
desperately trying to get to his feet using the guardrail for leverage.. but here comes
McBaine!

DD: And the Bad Eye with a big running knee to the stomach of Woodall doubles the
crimson-masked Dirty One over.. time to bring him to the table!

JR: And that he is doing with a handful of Woodall's hair as they stop directly in front of the
table..

[And that's when McBaine puts Woodall into a standing headscissors which makes the entire place
rise to their feet in anticipation of some hardcore goodness!]

DD: He's gonna powerbomb him through the table! Damn it yes! Do it for me McBaine!

JR: And he doesn't wanna waste more time.. he lifts..


[Pop!]


JR: No! No! Woodall won't be lifted! McBaine tries again!!


[Pop!]


JR: And again Woodall blocks with his weight.. and now Woodall drops to his knees!


[Ohhhhh My Nuts Pop!!]


DD: Cheap bastard!

JR: Woodall just rocked McBaine in his family jewels!! Woodall has McBaine hurt and doubled
over! Woodall rises to his feet and grabs McBaine by the head.. and rolls him into the ring!

DD: Why not use the table?!

JR: Maybe Woodall wants to beat this bastard in the ring!

DD: Boring!

JR: Call it what you want but nobody cares at this point.. Woodall back in the ring now..

DD: He's not giving McBaine any time to recuperate is he?

JR: Not at all as the Dirty One lifts McBaine to his feet and backs him into the ropes.. off
the farside goes McBaine.. clothesl-, ducked by McBaine who continues his run and off the
nearside ropes.. he leaps.. Thesz Pr-


[THUD!! POP!!]


JR: Countered into a vicious spinebuster by Doyle Woodall!! Woodall quickly to his feet as he
sits up onto the top rope.. he leaps!!


[THUD!!! BIG POP!!]


JR: Second rope fistdrop caught McBaine right between the good and bad eye!! Woodall with the
cover!!


ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

















TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!















THR-KICKOUT!!!

[Again the crowd pops with disappointment as Woodall rolls over not believing he didn't take
the victory there. He sits up and wipes the blood from his face.. a mean grin upon his face.]

DD: He looks pissed and rightfully so, he can't keep the true hero of this wretched company
down.. he'll never defeat "Bad Eye" McBaine and it's become a demoralizer for Woodall!

JR: Can the wise ass crap Dirk.. both men are exhibiting the will of a lion..

DD: White Lion?

JR: Good christ no.

DD: RADAR LOVE!!!!!!!!

JR: [sighs] Woodall back to his feet and eager to attempt once again at putting the final nail
in the coffin of McBaine as he lifts him to his feet.. irish whip and into the corner HARD goes
McBaine who just looks so exhausted and beaten it's not even funny..

DD: He's wearing down the Dirty One, Jake!

JR: Perhaps. McBaine seems to be reaching into his pocket.. and Woodall charges.. big boot..


[BOOOOO!!]


DD: The big boot missed and Woodall is stuck with his big goofy foot over the top rope!


[PROTEST POP!!]


DD: AND MCBAINE HAS THE CHAIN!! HE'S WRAPPING THAT CHAIN AROUND HIS FIST WHILE WOODALL IS
GETTING HIS LEG UP AND OVER THAT TOP ROPE!! HE DOESN'T SEE IT COMING!!

[But all the fans do as McBaine smiles evilly as he awaits Woodall's eventual turn to meet..
the chain links wrapped tightly around his right paw.]

JR: Woodall back to his feet and tur-


[Mr. Chain meet Mr. Woodall's face!!]


[BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!]


DD: KO PUNCH BY MCBAINE!! HE JUST PUT WOODALL FLAT OUT WITH THE CHAIN!! HE HOOKS THE LEG!!


ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


















TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
















THHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-SHOULDER UP!!!!

[MONSTER MONSTER POP!!!]

JR: GOOD LORD YES!! THIS PLACE JUST EXPLODED AS FRANCOIS SHOT UP TWO FINGERS!! SOMEHOW WOODALL
KICKED OUT!! THE DIRTY ONE PULLED THE UNTHINKABLE!!

DD: But it don't mean squat Jake if he don't pull the entire match out, he could just be
prolonging his trip to hell.

JR: Or he could be on the verge of changing the tide and winning this thing and moving on to
face Leviticus Nelson for our Heavyweight title!

DD: I shudder at that thought.

JR: McBaine is just beside himself as he's back to his feet.. his jaw dropped wide and he
doesn't look too sure of what to do next..

[Yeah.. so McBaine slowly lifts Woodall to his feet.. that chain still wrapped around McBaine's
right hand.. what can Francois do anyhow? It's a street fight, remember?]

DD: Whip into the nearside corner goes Woodall.. McBaine slowly stalking over there himself..

JR: Here comes McB-


[POP!!]


JR: And out comes Woodall with huge rights!! One after another!! Another! Another! He has
McBaine reel-


[OHHH POP!!]


DD: Kick to the nuggets by McBaine!! And pushed back into the turnbuckle goes Woodall!!
McBaine lifting Woodall and sitting him on the turnbuckle now as McBaine climbs up to the
second buckle..


[CRACK!!]


JR: Damnit! McBaine just bamboozled Woodall with that chain to the skull!! He's got Woodall
all messed up sitting on that top turnbuckle!!

DD: He's a genius!! He's a goddamn mastermind!!

[With those endearing words of wisdom.. McBaine helps get Woodall standing again.. pushing
Woodall up to the top rope.. McBaine punching Woodall in the gut would crouches Woodall over on
that top turnbuckle as the fans all rise to their feet..]

JR: Fireman's Carry!! McBaine has Woodall in the fireman's carry on the top turnbuckle!!! MY
GOD DON'T DO IT!!

DD: YOU CAN DO IT!!

[And that's when McBaine powers himself to the top rope with Woodall draped over him in a
fireman's carry.. as he leaps to the side..




[FLASHBULBS!!]




[They continue to fall to the outside.. McBaine turning Woodall downward..




..





CCCCCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]





["HO-LY SHIT!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!"]


["HO-LY SHIT!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!"]


["HO-LY SHIT!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!"]


["HO-LY SHIT!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!"]


["HO-LY SHIT!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!"]


["HO-LY SHIT!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!"]


["HO-LY SHIT!!! HO-LY SHIT!!!"]


JR: MY GOD!!! SWEET MOTHER OF GOD!! MCBAINE WITH THE BLIND VALLEY DRIVER _OFF_ THE TOP ROPE AND
_THROUGH_ THE TABLE AT RINGSIDE!!! WOOD WENT EVERYWHERE!!! PEOPLE SCATTERED LIKE MAD!! AND
BOTH MEN MUST BE SERIOUSLY INJURED!!! GOOD LORD I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THAT IN MY LI-

DD: JAKE!! MCBAINE IS DRAPED OVER WOODALL ON THE FLOOR!!! REFEREE FRANCOIS IS GONNA MAKE THE
COUNT!!!






ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



















TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




















THHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!



[DING DING DING!!!!!]



[BIGGEST HEEL POP OF THE NIGHT!!]


AH: The winner of the match.. and the man who will face Leviticus Nelson for the GIW
HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE!!..


"BAD EYE" MCBAINE!!!!!!


DD: YES!! YES!!! YESYESYESYESYES!!!

JR: What a war!! What a goddamn street fight we've just witnessed!! And it'll be "Bad Eye"
McBaine going on to face the monster Leviticus Nelson for the biggest prize in our company..

DD: But look at the price both men had to pay for a chance at greatness.

[The camera pans to both men who aren't moving much at all.. but just enough to let us know
that they are actually alive, which isn't a bad thing.. that's a good thing! Both men are a
bloody heap of shit though, literally.. well, maybe not literally, but you get the picture.]

JR: Here comes our crack medical team to see if our two warriors of the ring are ok..

DD: Team?! I see one man!

JR: We don't have a lot of money to throw around here, Dirk. He must do for now.

[The fans all try to gather near that side of the ringside area as the smallish man gets to the
side of both men.. McBaine rolling onto his stomach.. the camera panning on his face as he
lifts it off the ground.. pure crimson red mask.. he grins evilly to some booos!!!]

JR: And the man victorious tonight with a sadistic grin as he gets to his feet.. and stumbles
back into the ring apron.. he's just not all there folks.. he's wide-eyed and looking at the
carnage.. and I don't think he can move right now as his legs are just not under him..

DD: Would yours be?

JR: Of course not! I can't even fathom what type of physical exertion their bodies and minds
have gone through this evening..

DD: Wise words my friend, good way to weasel out.

JR: Weasel?!

[And all of a sudden the fans all look towards the entranceway and start to just rain down the
boooooooooos!!!!!!!]

DD: Look who's jaunting on down towards ringside!!

[If you haven't guessed it.. think annoyance.. got it yet? Well then i'll help you.. it's
Bobby Ray Wilkins!! He quickly makes his way down to the ring.. slowly stalking over to the
side filled with table scraps.. the medic looks over Woodall who sits up to a big POP!! His
face also a mask of crimson red goodness.. Wilkins slowly stalks behind him..]

JR: Oh c'mon now! This man has been through enough for one night!! And now Bobby Ray Wilkins
is down here for what?! To rub it in? To attack the helpless Doyle Woodall?!

DD: Maybe he's gonna give Woodall a helping hand?

JR: You gotta be kidding me!

DD: I AM!! HAHAHAHAHAA!!!

JR: Woodall back to his feet.. but wobbly as well.. what a warrior this man is folks!! And
here comes Wilkins!!

[Thec crowd jeers as Wilkins charges in.. Woodall turning to face as Wilkins uncorks his
LLLLLAAAAAARRRRRRRIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTT!!!]


[BIG POP!!]


JR: WOODALL DUCKED!!


[BOOOOOOOOOO!!!]


JR: AND LOOK AT THAT COWARD WILKINS!! HE JUST CONTINUED TO RUN AFTER HE MISSED AND HE'S
HIGHTAILING IT TO THE BACK!! WHAT A GODDAMN COWARD!

DD: GENIUS, JAKE!! PURE GENIUS!! IT'S A MINDGAME BABY!!

JR: Mindgame?!

[Dirk doesn't get the chance to answer as McBaine lunges forward and clips Woodall in the back
of the head.. that chain still wrapped in his hand as he puts Woodall back down on his knees!]


[BOOOOOOO!!]


DD: YES!! FINISH HIM OFF FOR GOOD MCBAINE!! FINISH HIM OFF FOR GO-


[HHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE POP!!]


[And why? Because a monster of a man has just stepped over the guardrail on the blindside of
McBaine.. who has no idea what is going on or why the crowd is cheering for him.]

JS: NELSON!!! LEVITICUS NELSON IS HERE AND HE'S BEHIND MCBAINE!! MCBAINE PULLS BACK TO BLAST
WOOD-, NELSON CATCHES THE ARM!! MCBAINE TURNS!! REVERSE CHOKEHOLD!!

DD: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

JS: HE LIFTS MCBAINE!!


[TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!]


[BIG TIME MOFO POP!!!!]


JS: DESCENTION INTO HELL ON THE CONCRETE!! NELSON GOT HIS PAYBACK!! NELSON EVENED THE SCORE!!
IN ONE MOTH THESE TWO WILL GO TOE TO TOE FOR OUR BIGGEST PRIZE, OH MY THIS PLACE IS ELECTRIC!!

DD: SONOFABITCH!! BASTARD!!

JS: WE GOTTA GO FANS.. WE GOTT-

[Suddenly, the image on your screen vanishes and is replaced by a shot of a darkened motel
room. A shaky hand moves the camera, obviously a handheld camcorder of some type, across the
room... bringing it to rest on a television set. The screen flickers with images from the last
GIW show. We can hear the voice of Rodgers from the videotape... until a hand covered in a
black fingerless glove and tightly gripping a remote control comes into view. The screen
freezes... and a deep voice is heard.]

???: Looks like there's a new kid on the block, a place that's starting to get "the buzz". A
place that people are talking about.

[The camera pans across the room to a map pinned up to the wall of the room. A large red tack
is in the middle of it... and as we zoom in, we can see it rests dead over the words "Grand
Isle".]

???: A place that's in need of something... of someone...

A place in need of me.

[Slowly, the camera pans back to the screen... now filled with the face of Bad Eye McBaine.]

???: I haven't forgotten you, McBaine... and I know you haven't forgotten me.

[With a "click", the TV screen shuts off.]

???: Grand Isle Wrestling?

Sounds like the perfect place to make a new start.

[The camera zoom in on the image of McBaine... and cut to darkness as the feeds sound fades
out.. we only hear Rodgers as though far away.]

JR: Who the hell?! What was that?! That wasn't McBaine's voice! Oh lord.. things are
starting to boil over!!

[Fade out for good.]


Grand Isle Wrestling 2002
If a wholly Great One rules, the people hardly know that he exists. Lesser men are loved and praised, still lesser ones are feared, still lesser ones are despised. How thoughtful one must be in what one says! The work done, business takes its course, and all people think: "We are free." - Lao Tzu

"Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children's children what it was once like in the United States where men were free." - Ronald Reagan

"The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government." - Thomas Jefferson
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Walls
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WTF?! No Kellan/McCall match?
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blibblab
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Walls,Apr 10 2008
06:22 PM
WTF?! No Kellan/McCall match?

Hey, I don't edit 'em - I just post 'em!
If a wholly Great One rules, the people hardly know that he exists. Lesser men are loved and praised, still lesser ones are feared, still lesser ones are despised. How thoughtful one must be in what one says! The work done, business takes its course, and all people think: "We are free." - Lao Tzu

"Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children's children what it was once like in the United States where men were free." - Ronald Reagan

"The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government." - Thomas Jefferson
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