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An Evening of Stars; All by Chris Douglas
Topic Started: Apr 11 2008, 12:21 AM (1,091 Views)
blibblab
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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
[Nothing but darkness can be seen. A familiar voice-over with a heavy
English accent can be heard above the darkness...]

VOICE-OVER: "Question..."

[A long pause follows before the voice is heard again.]

VOICE-OVER: "What do we want...?"

[Thunder can be heard, faintly in the background.]

VOICE-OVER: "Respect...?"

[Slightly louder now, the thunder is heard again. The voice-over gets
marginally louder.]

VOICE-OVER: "Success...?"

[Once again, the thunder is heard. This time at almost an
ear-piercing volume. The thunder dies down slowly, as the voice-over
gets even louder.]

VOICE-OVER: "Fame and fortune...?"

[Suddenly a lightning bolt flashes across the screen from top right to
bottom left, exploding as it reaches it's destination. The brilliant
white light is replaced by a logo in the center of the screen, filling
about half of the it...]

*********************************************
* _ ___ __ __ ____ *
* / | / (_)___ _/ /_ / /_ ___ / __/ *
* / |/ / / __ `/ __ \/ __/ / __ \/ /_ *
* / /| / / /_/ / / / / /_ / /_/ / __/ *
* /_/ |_/_/\__, /_/ /_/\__/ \____/_/ *
* /____/________ *
* / ____/ /___ _______ _ *
* / / __/ / __ \/ ___/ / / / *
* / /_/ / / /_/ / / / /_/ / *
* \____/_/\____/_/ \__, / *
* /____/ *
* "An Evening of Stars" *
********************************************

[The logo starts to get bigger as the voice-over continues.]

VOICE-OVER: "The lines have been drawn..."

[The logo continued to get bigger.]

VOICE-OVER: "And will be crossed..."

[The logo is now stretched to the whole length of the screen.]

VOICE-OVER: "One Night..."

[The logo appears to be charged with electricity as it starts to glow.]

VOICE-OVER: "A Night..."

[The logo now starts to shake.]

VOICE-OVER: "...of Glory..."

[The logo explodes, flashing a white light across the screen before
fading to blackness once again.]

[Above the darkness, after a momentary pause, the familiar voice can be
heard once again.]

VOICE-OVER: Welcome to the future. Night of Glory. An event with
unlimited potential. That potential is now set to be
unleashed. Welcome to the event that will change this
industry and will well be talked about long after the dust
has settled. Welcome to the future. Welcome to... NIGHT...
OF... GLORY!!

[The blackness fades to a Stadium. Wembley Stadium, London, England.
Fireworks can be seen and heard, but just barely above a screaming and
shouting capacity crowd with Van Halen's "JUMP" playing in the
background. The camera pans across the jam-packed stadium while the
logo is still visable. As the logo starts to fade, the camera pans down
to the commentary booth where we see three men standing by the table
with the golden Night of Glory Trophy seen shining under the lights in
front of them. The man on the left is easily identifiable. Standing
around six foot two, well built and clad in a blue double-breasted,
silhouette-lathered suit. The top quality jacket, left unbuttoned,
hangs over the top of his white polo shirt and he can only be the man
known to many and liked by few as "Mr. Main Event" Chris Douglas. The
Gentleman in the middle is seen wearing a black suit, a white shirt and
a red tie. He is smaller in height than Chris and is of a much smaller
build. He is identified as the host of Night of Glory Speak Easy,
Joseph Worthington. On the right is a man wearing a blue blazer, a
white shirt, a blue tie and blue slacks. He isn't short, but isn't tall
by wrestling standards. The handsome young man can be known as Mike
Masterson. Worthington, looking slightly nervous, yet incredibly happy
smiles towards the camera and starts to talk...]

JW: WELCOME EVERYONE TO WEMBLEY STADIUM!! WELCOME EVERYONE TO AN EVENT
TO BE REMEMBERED!! WELCOME TO NIGHT...OF...GLOOOOOORRRRYYYYY!!

[The camera pans around the arena once again. The fans are going wild,
cheering, chanting and whistling. You name it, they're probably doing
it! Signs can be seen all around the arena, "Ronnie D - Prepare to get
Rattled!", "BK Rules!", "Rock on Screaming Drillbits" and "I'm Chris
Douglas' son!" can all be seen, among others. Various wrestlers not
scheduled to be participating can also been seen. People like the
muscular brawler "Hardcore" and the huge Dan Canyon. Most noticably,
one of the people scheduled to wrestle later in the show, "Screaming
Drillbit" Jason Keening can be seen sitting in one of the upper
bleachers of the stadium, with a pair of binoculars in one hand and a
notepad in the other as he looks towards the ring. The camera zooms
over to him, and he smiles while pointing to a nearby fan who is holding
up a sign which reads "THE BULLDOGG IS GONNA GET DRILLED!!". The camera
pans back down to the commentator's booth where the three commentators
are now sitting.]

JW: This is it, wrestling fans. What you've been waiting for. We've
promised you it, and we're about to deliver, and in style.

CD: *Everyone's* showing up for this event, Worthington! Even some of
the wrestlers who aren't competing here tonight have been seen in
the crowd. Everyone wants to be a part of this!

JW: And I don't blame them either. Folks, we have an action packed show
for you here tonight from Wembley Stadium, London, England, as some
of the finest and most renowned wrestlers in the sport today fight
for one of the most prestigious awards, the Night of Glory Trophy.

[The camera particularly focusses on the trophy for a few moments before
focussing back on the commentators.]

MM: And to get the chance to win that, they must win the Night of Glory
Battle Royal, in which the participants are selected from some of
the previous matches in the evening.

JW: And what a list of matches that is. We have matches like you would
not believe here tonight. We have such matches as EMWC World
Heavyweight Champion "Wildthing" Kevin Slater going up against
former IIWF Cruiserweight Champion Icehawk. And there's that Outlaw
Rules Match with Bobby Taylor against Curtis Hansen, not to mention
the first half of the Epic Double Main Event tonight, as
"Diamondback" Chris Myers battles "Playboy" Ronnie D.

MM: That's right. And while you can't doubt the talents of the Playboy,
you also can't question the ability of Chris Myers.

CD: You're out of your mind, Masterson! I'm going with the Playboy all
the way, baby! Myers is a hack, was a hack and always will be a
hack!

JW: I have a feeling Chris Myers will be proving you wrong tonight,
Chris.

CD: Not a chance, Worthington!

JW: Folks, for the first time ever, Matt Harris squares off against "No
Worries" Rob Magnum, and the man you just saw up there in the crowd,
Jason Keening will take on Nick Demola.

MM: That'll be a best two out of three falls match with a difference
there, and while Demola has proved himself time and time again in
the squared circle, if I were a betting man I'd put the house on
Keening.

CD: And you'd lose it too! Nick Demola is the God of Wrestling,
Masterson! He *can't* be beaten!

JW: Folks, we have two triple threat matches here too tonight. One pits
Steve Spector, Jeff Matthews and Tiger Claw up against each other,
and the other is set to see Ethan de Sade, Ken Curtis and Casey
James square off.

MM: Well, the three-way feud there between de Sade, Curtis and James has
never actually been finished in the respect of finding a clear
winner between the three. Will tonight be the time when we find a
winner there, or will this be another step in the path of that feud.

JW: And fans, if violence is what you're looking for, we have plenty of
that here too. In a steel cage match, LOCO squares off against
Setzer Van Strife, and in a no holds barred, falls count anywhere
match, Creed will fight "Heartbreaker" Steve Wallace.

CD: And get beat up too. Wallace is my pick in that one. He's tougher,
he's faster and he wants it more.

JW: And for our international wrestling fans, we have an International
Trios match, in which Kashan Akuma, "Killer" Carlos Maia and Jinsei
Shakanuzi will take on Juvenil Infierno, Scorpio and Kabuki Kid in a
best two out of three falls situation.

MM: As you know, that was a match signed very late on, but everyone
involved has been heard from, so we know their takes on the
situation. Personally I'd say when you've got EMWC Junior
Heavyweight Champion Infierno, IFWF Cruiserweight Champion Scorpio
and Japanese Superstar Kabuki Kid on the same team, you can't bet
against them.

CD: Watch me then, Masterson! I bet on Akuma, Maia and Shakanuzi.
They've all got the kind of attitudes I like!

JW: If you're a tag team wrestling fan, you won't be disappointed
tonight. We have Alex Extreme and Magus taking on Sean Watts and
Gabriel Whitecross.

MM: The folks organising this event must have really worked hard to get
a match like that signed, with participants of that caliber.

CD: Damn right, Masterson. And you can thank me later!

JW: And another one for tag team wrestling fans is that Wild Card
Survivors Match, in which the random drawing dictates that it will
be Sid Snow, Brass Knuckles, Frazer Fury and Lawrence Williams
taking on Paul Kiljoy, Alan James, Shade and Steve Houston.

MM: And bear in mind that that one is elimination style. The last man,
or men standing from one team will go on to that Battle Royal.

CD: Well I say Kiljoy is a lock on that one. He's got the knowledge,
the talent, the ability and the confidence to win.

JW: Well, when you talk about confidence, you talk about Lawrence
Williams. He's certainly one of the favourites to win.

CD: No way, Worthington! Not *that* guy!

JW: Folks, all of those matches will be coming at you tonight, including
that Battle Royal for the Night of Glory Trophy, and plenty more.
Before we go down to the ring for our opening bout, let's get these
words from one of the participants in the first half of our double
main event tonight, "Diamondback" Chris Myers.

CD: I think I'm going to puke.

[The camera opens on the backstage area. As people run around, checking
cable, testing equipment, and making sure the show runs smoothly, in the
midst of all this chaos, the camera makes its way to a dressing room.
On the door is a gold plate, on which is written in blue letters 'CoP.'

As the camera shows the door, the door opens, and "Wild Thing" Kevin
Slater walks out. He brushes past the camera, saying "Excuse me" to the
cameraman. The camera focuses on him walking away, and we hear:]

CM: Don't mind him.

[The camera turns inside the dressing room, where, sitting on a leather
couch, is Diamondback Chris Myers. Myers has his feet up on a table,
and is wearing blue and white wrestling tights and blue wrestling boots.
The diamond has yet to be painted on his face as he addresses us.]

CM: Kevin usually goes for a walk before a match. His way of looseing
up, I guess. As for me...

[Myers gestuers towards the far side of the room. A TV sits there, and
on it, two men in SWAT team uniforms stuggle to unlock a department
store door.]

CM: Before a big match, I like to sit and watch one of my...heck, my
favorite movie. 'Dawn of the Dead.' Not exactly something for kids
to watch, but it helps me relax. See, there's no point for me to
sit before a matchup all worried and tense. You go over all the
problems and situations, and you worry about what's going to come
up. You lose focus, and that loses matches.

The weeks leading up to a match, and the five minutes before, THOSE
are the times to focus on the match. It's the day of that's the
killer for most. It's the time you can't do anything. So, they sit
and pace, worry, go over EVERY single situation. It's like before
a big test. You just can't cram any more info into your head.
So, I sit and watch a good movie. A damn good movie.

[Myers takes a swig of Gatorade, before turning back to the movie]

CM: There isn't much else for me to say. I've already said I'm going to
beat Ronnie D. I said it a lot, but he never answered. Never.
Around here, I'm more concerned with Kevin and Bobby's matches.
Some may say it's a mistake...I don't. You see, Ronnie D knew the
truth. He just couldn't hang with Chris Myers. I know it sounds
so cocky, but it's true. Right now, I am hitting my stride. This
is my time, this is the Cult of Personality's time. So, Ronnie D,
while a factor, isn't THAT big of a factor.

If Dallas heard me say that, I'm sure she'd be pissed. But, she's
doing an interview right now for the Spanish announcers, so I'm
safe.

It's almost time, Ronnie. Time for you and Lebec, if he has the
balls to show up, to pay the piper. Period.

And, of course...Chris Douglas? Do not even THINK of sticking your
big English nose in this, ok? For once, don't hog my glory and try
to make your career look better by hanging around me. Do so, and
I'll let you off the hook and not mess with your night.

Now, if you don't mind, my favorite part's coming up.

[The camera backs up and closes the door. Back to Worthington and
Douglas, who is fuming.]

CD: Damn that guy, Worthington! If he thinks he's going to be winning
in *my* stadium, and in *my* City, he's got another thing coming.
This is the City I wrestled my first match in, not so long ago...

JW: (Interrupting) Not so long ago?!? You mean well over two decad...

CD: (Cutting him off) No need to go into details, Worthington! Anyway,
Myers, I could squash you inside of a minute if I so choose. Hell,
I've done it what? Four times already? But I'm going to subject
you to something far worse than that. I'm going to send Dallas a
copy of that interview! I'm sure she'll discipline you the way she
used to (Chris mocks a cough) discipline me!

JW: CHRIS!

[The camera pans to the ring in which ring announcer Mark Edwards
stands, holding a mic. The fans cheer extremely loudly as he starts to
talk.]

Mark Edwards: LAAAAAAAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN... WELCOME TO A NIGHT OF
GLORY!!

[HUGE crowd pop]
______________________________________________________________
| _ __ ______ |
| / | / /___ / ____/ "WILDTHING" KEVIN SLATER |
| / |/ / __ \/ /___ vs. |
| / /| / /_/ / /_/ / ICEHAWK |
| /_/ |_/\____/\____/ |
| "AN EVENING OF STARS" Writer: Steve Tong |
|______________________________________________________________|

MM: This one promises to be a classic. EMWC World Champion "Wild Thing"
Kevin Slater is set to do battle with Icehawk. Let's head down to
the ring!

Mark Edwards: The following contest at this Night of Glory is scheduled
for one fall with a forty five minute time limit!

[Big crowd anticipation pop! They can't wait to see the fists fly!]

[The Olympic Fanfare begins to play over the Public Address System.]

Mark Edwards: Introducing first, hailing from Oulo, Finland.....he
stands 5 feet 11 inches tall and weighs in at an estimated 220
pounds....ladies and gentlemen, presenting to you, a former member of
both the Cold Quins and the Cold Spell, a former IIWF World
Cruiserweight Champion and a former three time Double Eye Double U F....

[Our favorite ring announcer gets a little help from the crowd....]

Mark Edwards: ...TAG TEAM CHAMPION OF THE
WOOOOOOOOOORRRRRLLLLLLDDDDD!!!! Ladies and gentlemen...._this_is_
IIICCCCCCCEEEEEEHHAAAWWWWK!!!!!!!!

[The curtain parts slowly as the Olympic Fanfare continues to play. The
former gymnast turned wrestler from Finland walks out, coming to the
ring wearing a white mask and cape, both decorated with the blue cross
of the Finnish flag. The talented youngster slaps the hands of those
who extend them before entering the ring and raising his hands high to a
tremendous ovation. After discarding both the mask and cape, we see
that he's wearing white boots and white, pant length tights with blue
icicles, the only break in the blue and white motif is the set of
Olympic Rings on his calf. He takes his place in his corner as the
Olympic Fanfare fades out and the chords of Sevendust's "Black" begin to
echo through the arena.]

Mark Edwards: And introducing his opponent....hailing from Boston,
Massachusetts.....he stands 6 feet 4 inches tall and weighs in at an
estimated 240 and one quarter pounds.....a former NWCI Ultimate Fighting
Champion......American Wrestling Association North American
Champion....and the two time Extreme Mail Wrestling Council....

[Again, help from the fans...]

Mark Edwards: HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WOOOOOORRRRLLLLDDDD!!!!
Ladies and gentlemen....I give you your EMWC World Heavyweight
Champion.....the "Wild Thing" KEVIN SLAAAAAAATTEEEERRRR!!!!

[The crowd erupts in a solid pop for the World Champion as Kevin Slater
parts the curtain and takes in the ovation with a grin on his face.
Hands on his hips, broad grin across his lips, he's saying, "Damn, this
is good!" The young veteran walks down the aisle in green and white
attire, a black leather jacket adorning his upper torso. The fringes on
his green boots match perfectly with the green fringes on his pant
length tights. His long brown hair is let go freely. Around his
waistline is perhaps the most important title in wrestling....the title
that he now holds....the glittery gold and diamonds that is the EMWC
World Heavyweight Championship. As he walks down the aisle we get a
view of the back of his leather jacket that bears the symbol of
the Cult of Personality. He steps through the ropes, takes off his
belt, climbs the ropes and holds it up high for all to see before
dropping the leather and putting the title belt next to Mike Masterson,
Joseph Worthington, and Chris Douglas.]

<<DING! DING! DING!>>

MM: Well this match is set to begin. The cruiserweight against the
heavyweight, a delightful treat for us all to see.

[Slater and Icehawk are face to face. Nothing short of a violent match
between these two competitors. Icehawk spits at Slater... Slater is
gleaming red. Slater slaps Icehawk, and the match is beginning. Slater
sends a punch to Icehawk which sends the former IIWF Cruisweight
Champion flying.]

JW: Slater is too big of a nut to crack for Icehawk. Icehawk needs to
use his ultra quickness to maintain his way, maybe for a win.
Obviously, Slaters the stronger, bigger, taller...

[Douglas interrupts.]

CD: But of course not the intellectual one, between the two.

[Icehawk immediately trys to shut down Slaters legs, as Icehawk
drop-kicks Slaters knee. Slater falls down in disbelief. The EMWC WORLD
CHAMPION springs right back up... Slater knocks Icehawk off of his feet
with a shoulder-tackle. A right from Slater, a left, then another
right.]

MM: The "Wild Thing" is beating the brains out of Icehawk. Icehawk is
sprawled in the mat, trying to take cover from all those knuckle
fists.

JW: Our ref' Travis Trammell stops this... Trammell's refraining Slater
away from Icehawk. Icehawk shakes away the punches.

[Icehawk shoves the pin-striped official away. Slater is in the clearing
way for Icehawk. Icehawk nails a savate kick then another savate kick
and another one. Slater crouches in absolute pain... Icehawk whips
himself back to the ropes coming forward he knocks the wind-pipes out of
Slater with a spin heel kick...]

CD: Look at Slater grabbing onto his nose... [laughs] He looks like
rudolph the red-nose reindeer.

MM: Oh stop it!

JW: Icehawk with a nice legdrop after the Spin heel kick. The native
Finland resident is in control of the match, as of now.

CD: Don't worry, Worthington, unfortunately someway; somehow this big
goof from Boston will find a way to come back, and when he does...
_WATCH_out Icehawk. Speaking of Boston, I HATE IT! Everything in
Boston, sucks. Except for the "Patriots", and the bar where everyone
knows your name...

[Icehawk is now going up top... He's climbing his way up to the top
turnbuckle... ICEHAWK is going for the... MOONSAULT! And he con-, NO!
Slater moved! Slater moved! Icehawk is lying face-first on the canvas.
Holding onto his stomach, bellowing in pain... Slater luckily rolls out
of the way... The "Wild thing", still a little woozy but he is up...]

MM: Something tells me, Slater wants to tear Icehawk into shreds???!!!

JW: You know what, Mike? He's just about to do that... Slater picks up
Icehawk... POWERBOMB! POWERBOMB! I've never seen a Powerbomb used
this early in the match, Slater really wants to get this over with.
He knows, Icehawk can strike any minute-now...

CD: For once Slater is doing his homework and its paying off.

Slater goes for the pin...

1....

2....

NO! Icehawk kicks out.

MM: A pre-emptive pin there, by the big man. Like we speculated minutes
ago, Slater wants this over and done with as soon as possible.

[Slater lifts up Icehawk again... He puts Icehawk's head below Slater's
long but stouty legs... Slaters set him up for another BIG
____POWERBOMB____!!! SLATER POWER-... WAIT NO! Icehawk while in mid-air
escapes from the big destructive finisher, flipping over... Slater
doesn't realize it after a few seconds...]

MM: SLATER SMELLS something *fishy* going on... He turns around,
__STRAIGHT__ martial arts thrust kick by the light-weight, Icehawk.
Slater falls straight down to the mat. Icehawk is going for the
cover...

1....

NO SLATER showing us his mighty strength, throws Icehawk away like
he's a paper-weight.

CD: Strong but idiotic.

[Icehawk and Slater are now circling around the square circle, not
losing a second of a sight of each other, Kev' catches Icehawk running
to him. Slater drapes his arm over Icehawks shoulder... A REVERSE SIDE
RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP!]

JW: The "Wildthing" is showing us his technichal mat wrestling also.
Slater is slowing the pace down, clenching his arms under Icehawk's
neck. Squeezing the life out of the former gymnast with the sleeper
hold...

[Icehawk is sitting down, closing his eyes almost unconscious...
Trammell asks Icehawk if he wwill submit... Icehawk doesn't respond.
Trammell raises Icehawk's muscular left arm, it immediately falls
down... The official hoists up Icehawk's arm, but only for the same
result... Trammell hoists up Icehawk's arm again... Icehawk's arm falls
down, but half-way there, his hand stops from descending. BIG POP!!!
Slater tries to elude Icehawk out of his misery
by clamping on the sleeper hold, tighter... But instead of tiring out
Icehawk, it strengthens him... Icehawk is crouching... NOW he's in a
standing position. Icehawk sends a sharp right elbow to stop the hold,
Slater doesn't budge, Icehawk repeats... Slater loosens up the hold, but
still has it on... Icehawk elbows Slaters stomach one last time...
Slater lets go of the move.]

MM: Icehawk's adrenaline is blowing up the roof... The EMWC World
Champion is leaning on the ropes... Icehawk charges at Slater... NO
SLATER WITH A BACK BODY DROP!!! Icehawk falls over the ropes and
onto the concrete floor...

CD: Icehawk is next to us... How you do, Icehawk?

[Icehawk gazes at Douglas for a second as he heard him say his name, but
just that second, Slater comes to the outside of the ring, and he just
sent Icehawk to the steel guardrail. The fans are going ballistic...
Slater snatches a chair next to Douglas... AND HE NAILS the chair
onto Icehawk...]

JW: Icehawk is certainly taking a big beating from the Bostonian.
Suddenly this match quickly turns up a notch... But the referee is
counting the two out...

1.....

[Icehawk is down.]

2.....

[Slater brings Icehawk right back up.]

3.....

[Slater whips Icehawk to the nearest steel ring post...]

4.....

[BUT ICEHAWK reverses it. Slater hits his left arm to the steel RING
POST!]

{{{{{{{{{{CRRRRAAAAAANNNNKKKK}}}}}}}}}}

5.....

[Slater is holding on his left arm, grimacing.]

6.....

[Icehawk is kneeling his way to the square circle... He makes it to the
coverall. Icehawk
rolls himself back to the ring, whilst Slater is down in tremendous
pain...]

7.....

8.....

9.....

[Icehawk rolls himself back out to the ring, to reset the count.]

MM: I don't comprehend what Icehawk is doing, do you Joe?

JW: I'm thinking maybe he wants to beat Slater the ol' fashion way.
Pinning the opponent.

[Icehawk rotating in the front of Slaters face, he begins to choke
Slater. Slater's pale eyes bulge in effect. Slater is flailing his arms,
EYE GOUGE BY SLATER!!!]

CD: I got to hand it to Slater, a desperate move in a desperate
situation.

MM: Slater kicks Icehawk, another kick. Icehawk scurries away. The
cruiserweight goes back to the ring. Slater follows not so-behind...
Wait ICEHAWK just ASAI MOONSAULTED Slater... Slater falls down on
the concrete. But as you can tell, Icehawk is hurt also.

JW: What an amazing move! This light-weight is known to take risk
everywhere... And heres another showing of his great athleticism.
Icehawk loves to amerce his opponents with the aerialistic style he
hones.

Trammell: 1....

[Both are lying down motionless.]

2....

3....

4....

5....

[Icehawk is up... He throws Slater back to the ring. Slater is in the
ring, but still is recooperating off of the top rope ASAI moonsault.
Icehawk is on the outside of the ring, but not in the ring... ICEHAWK
ELEVATES himself over the top rope, and CONNECTS with a flying
legdrop... Icehawk with the cover.]

Trammell: 1...

2...

NO!

MM: Slater's right foot is on the ropes...

CD: Close but no cigar. Icehawk seems a little baffled, and who would
blame him... He's done eveything in his power to win this match,
still he can't get the 1, 2, 3!

JW: Lets not over-analyze that. Sure, Icehawk is doing everything he can
to win the bout, but his opponent "Wildthing" Kevin Slater, didn't
become a 2 time but Current EMWC World Heavyweight Champion, for
nothing...

[Icehawk argues the call against the official. The official shakes his
head, and puts out two fingers. Icehawk turns his focus back to Slater.
Icehawk lofts Slater to the ropes... Slater ducks... Icehawk MISSES a
enzuigri kick. Icehawk is unaware of the happening... Rotating
backwards... SLATER CATCHES ICEHAWK BY THE THROAT! CHOKESLAM!!!
CHOKESLAM!!!]

Trammell: 1....

2....

THR--...

MM: ICEHAWK KICKS OUT!!! But by barely.

[Slater elbowdrops Icehawk... Slater catches right in the middle of
Icehawk's chest... Slater covers for a pin. 1.... 2.... Icehawk kicks
out again. "Wildthing", yanks the blonde but gleaming white hairs of
Icehawk... SLATER sets Icehawk for... A SIDEWALK SLAM!!! But the EMWC
World Champion, doesn't let Icehawk out of his kneecaps. As Slater
throttles his hands to Icehawks knee's and chin, __PRESSURING__ his
abdominal structure and his lower back area. Eventually, Slater throws
Icehawk away.]

JW: This beast! This savage beast is crushing Icehawk from head to toe,
and theres nothing the light-weight can do about it.

CD: And he isn't finished with Icehawk, yet!

[Slater walks to the former IIWF cruiserweight champion. Slater brings
Icehawk back up!!! SNAP SUP----... NO! Icehawk blocks it. ICEHAWK WITH
A INSIDE CRADLE. The referree counts. 1... 2... THR--!!!]

MM: Amazing resiliency from both Icehawk and Kevin Slater. These guys
are putting a show for us. Icehawk is the first to get up. Icehawk
whips himself back to the ropes... JUMPING onto the ropes, he turns
around... FLIPS and tramples SLATER with a SPRINGBOARD back fall!!!

JW: ICEHAWK isn't going for the cover??? He isn't going for the cover...
HOWEVER he is going to the top turnbuckle... HE'S in the top
turnbuckle... HE LANDS ON SLATER WITH A SHOOTING STAR PRESS! ITS ALL
OVER FOR SLATER!!!

CD: ICEHAWK WRAPS up Slater's legs...

1......

2......

THRE-???!!!

[The referee puts up two fingers. Immediately, Icehawk goes right in the
face of the official. He doesn't like the call, and he's shedding his
feelings toward it.]

CD: WHAT a horrible call! The official should be fired! ICEHAWK
should've won!

JW: It was to close to call on my part.

MM: Slater is beginning to come up. Icehawk is still lashing his tongue
to the official.

[Few seconds passed...]

CD: SLATER IS UP!!!!!!

JW: Slater taps Icehawk's shoulder... Icehawk turns around... SLATER D
DDT'S ICEHAWK! He totally flattens ICEHAWK! But wait, Slater isn't
going for the pin either. He whips himself to the ropes, coming back
he connects a viscious legdrop.

MM: SLATER ISN'T GOING FOR THE PIN!!! AGAIN!!! I don't know what's his
motive, but I know its already been proven.

[Slater hoists up Icehawk again, but this time, he puts Icehawk in the
neck and shoulders of Slater. Slater spins around... AIRPLANE BACK
SUPLEX!!! AIRPLANE BACK SUPLEX!!! Slater goes for the cover, pinning his
foot elegantly to the sternum of Icehawk's... Slater flexes his muscle's
to the crowd, just to humiliate Icehawk a tad little more.]

Trammell: 1.....

MM: Icehawk put up a good fight...

2.....

MM: Though not enough to eliminate the EMWC World Heavyweight
Champion...

TH---???

[HUGE POP for ICEHAWK!!!]

JW: Ohh my gracious! ICEHAWK raised up his hand to stop the count. HE
STOPPED THE count. WHAT PERSEVEARANCE!!! I can't believe he has
anything left after the Airplane back suplex. He has excessed all
his strength and his ability, but he's still going...

CD: Either way, if Icehawk loses or wins he's gratifying the crowd,
alright. Its hard to please my Brits, but he's doing it.

MM: I say the crowd is more-so cheering on the match then Icehawk...

[Slater is stomping on the beatened Icehawk. 4 kicks have passed, the
official stops Slater. Pushing Slater away to the corner. However,
Icehawk is still down and immense pain. Icehawk is moving... Crawling
his way to a standing position, holding the ropes as a leverage. Though
the pugnacious "Wildthing" Kevin Slater has had enough, giving time for
Icehawk to recooperate. Icehawk utilizing the corner of his eye,
notices Slater coming... Icehawk now revitalize, _CATCHES_ SLATER'S
HEAD... HE SPRINGS HIS HEAD DOWN to the top rope. WHICH catapults SLATER
to the middle of the ring...]

JW: WOW! I think its called a half Stun Gun Sling Shot! Well that
certainly gives some new life to, the corpse-bound Icehawk. Icehawk
takes a few more gasp, before going toward the stunned "Wildthing"
Kevin Slater. Slater is trying to catch some air, too, but Icehawk
puts a stop to that...

[Icehawk pulls Slater up, but Slater throws a left hand! Icehawk
follows with a right hand of his own! Both men stand middle-ring,
trading blows! Rights and lefts, most of them hitting their mark!
Finally, Icehawk seems to gain the upperhand, and forces Slater back
into the corner! The referee slowly calls for the break, but Icehawk
starts throwing knees into Slater' mid-section! Slater grimaces with
each blow, and dishevels in the corner! As Slater goes down, Icehawk
starts putting the boots to him, stomping him mercilessly down to the
mat! The referee is finally able to pull Icehawk back, and Icehawk lets
out a BELLOW to the crowd, who responds with a big HEEL pop!]

CD: Slater is back up... The two grapple... Slater is on the
advantage...

[Masterson interrupts]

MM: A textbook vertical suplex, by the big behemoth. Promptly, Slater's
back on the offensive.

[Slater is focus at Icehawk's vulnerable state. Slater picks up
Icehawk... HE IS SETTING UP for his finisher... "SWEET DREAMS"...
Icehawk is up in the air... But he reverses the move, evading from
losing... A sigh of relief from the European, but not for long. ICEHAWK
twirls around to see him being CAUGHT by SLATER!!! "SWEET DREAMS"!!!
"SWEET DREAMS"!!!]

{{{{{{{{{{BOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM}}}}}}}}}}

JW: HE CAUGHT HIM!!! HE CAUGHT HIM!!! SWEET DREAMS!!! SWEET
DREAMS!!! Slater goes for the PIN!!!

1.....

2.....

3.....!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MM: And Slater wins, Slater wins! But not by a long-shot. It was a close
encounter, but at the end, Slater came on top.

CD: [Douglas claps his hand.] Swell job, by both of them. But that
doesn't mean, I like them.

JW: Slater with a nice win to start off "Night of Glory". Can the
"Wildthing" maintain his way in the battle royal? We'll just have
to see. Folks, before we hit the air today, this London crowd got a
taste of the street brawler who's realy making a name for himself.

MM: Well, that's semantics. Someone already made the name, he's trying
to remake it on his own.

CD: Who ARE you talking about?

JW: That would be Creed.

CD: Who?

MM: Isn't it true you've faced Creed a few times?

CD: Who?

MM: Didn't he get the better of you?

CD: (bursts out) Absolutely not! We each lost one match, that is...

MM: Don't know him, eh?

JW: Creed Who, eh?

[Douglas stares sullenly, as Masterson gets up and leaves.]

JW: Let's show you some footage from earlier today outside Wembley
Stadium!

[Cut to footage run while Rob Zombie's "Superbeast" rocks the
background, where Creed rides into the Wembley Stadium parking lot,
while fans in line to enter yell and scream, waving at him as he rides
past, with Angel behind him on the Harley-Davidson Panhead. He turns
around to circle by again, slowly passing the crowd packed against the
guardrail, both of the motorcycle riders slapping hands with those
outreached hands. He yells out over the roar of the engine.]

"Welcome to Night of Glory, London!"

[Cheers erupt from the fans as he rides off out of view]

[Cut to footage of Creed near a concession stand, still in the process
of setting up for sales. Several people are working to arrange
everything for displays, but two people tend to Creed and Angel's
requests, hanging on every word Creed speaks.]

"Right, and get me a box of those "Night of Glory" shirts. You got any
caps? Gimmie some of those too!"

[Angel helps to pull the shirts from the boxes out, stacking them on a
seperate table to keep from hindering the work of the others, right next
to a three stacks of the official caps with the "NoG" logo.]

"Just let me know how much this runs - hey wait, can we charge these to
Chris Douglas?"

[Grins amidst laughs from the souveneir stand crew]

[The music rises as the merchandise is loaded into gym bags with the
Night of Glory logo, Creed T-shirts mixed with the other items, just as
the chorus of the thundering gothic rock tune nears.]

###
HEY HEY!
I'm the one that you wanted.
HEY HEY!
I'm your Superbeast.
###

[Switching to a new location, security drives an electric golf cart down
an upper tier walkway in escort of Creed's Harley, puttering at a slow
speed behind. Angel pulls shirts from the bag on her lap, tossing them
left and right to kids and adults alike, who swarm to the guardrails
trying to gain a free shirt. As the golf cart speeds up to accomodate
the motorcycle, they tour around the gathering crowd to distribute to
each area of the upper seating areas.]

[The music fades as the motorcycle and its riders head off away from the
camera, the scene fading into real-time, where Mike Masterson stands
outside Creed's locker room. Oddly, the door is shaking every few
seconds, with loud crashing noises heard inside. Masterson seems rather
surprised, but manages to compose himself to begin the interview.]

MM: That was the scene early here in Wembley Stadium, where (crash,
Masterson winces, continues) Creed - as he often does - decided to
give something back to the London fans tonight! (another crash,
Mike frowns) We're waiting for Creed to join us here, perhaps to
get a few words from the bad brawler before his wild match with
"Heartbreaker" Steve Wallace.

[Behind the door, there is silence for a moment, then a muffled voice
that speaks words sounding suspiciously like profanity. Masterson
hesitates, clearly unsure of what to do. After an extended moment of
silence, he glances around, then carefully raps on the door three
times.]

MM: Creed? I believe we were scheduled for an interview at this time,
would you be able to join us?

Creed: (Voice heavily muffled through the thick door) No, dammit, I
can't join you!

MM: I see.

[Masterson nervously looks around, then listens to an unseen voice for a
moment before speaking.]

MM: Well, it looks like we won't be able to get a word from Creed,
perhaps later tonight we can...

[Creed's voice, though muffled, is heard clearly through the door as he
yells with great vocal force.]

Creed: I CAN'T DO A FREAKIN' INTERVIEW BECAUSE SOMEBODY LOCKED ME IN MY
DRESSING ROOM!

[Masterson, clearly stunned, turns to examine to door more closely. The
camera follows his inspection, as heavy bolts are found to have been
drilled through the door at the top and bottom, preventing it from
opening. Shocked, Mike turns immediately to the camera.]

MM: Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a shocking development! Someone is
trying to keep Creed from his match tonight!

Creed: (Through the door) Thank you for that brilliant revelation,
Sherlock. I'm glad you're a detective as well as a journalist.
Now try being resourceful and call someone to get me out of here!

MM: We will definitely find someone to attempt to remedy this heinous
act! Creed, don't worry, we WILL get you out in time for your match
tonight! Meanwhile, let's go back to ringside!

[Back at the announcer's booth, Worthington has worried look as he turns
towards Chris Douglas, watching his smirk evaporate into a frown.]

CD: What?

JW: I suppose you didn't know anything about this.

CD: I don't even know who this guy is, why would I put bolts on his
door? The truth is most likely that he begged Angel to lock him in
so he wouldn't take the beating of his life.

JW: (Shocked) WHAT?!

CD: Hey, she's supposed to be this tough biker broad, she can probably
swing a drill.

[Masterson returns to the table, putting his headset back on.]

MM: The fact that she rides with Creed doesn't mean she can run a
Makita!

CD: Well, I know _I_ didn't have anything to do with it. Besides,
Creed's not quite technologically advanced to be able to operate a
door handle yet. Get some help out there and he'll be fine.

JW: Well, folks, as we try to unravel the Creed mystery, let's take you
to some comments from one of the superstars in that International
Trios match. Our Night of Glory reporter James Andrews is standing
by as we await the arrival of Scorpio.

[The scene changes to outside of Wembley Stadium. Night of Glory
reporter James Andrews is standing right there...]

JA: That's right, I am here cause someone has just appeared... And
there he is!

[The fans outside the arena release a great cheer as one man comes
out a limo... Sporting a white "SCORPIO BEATS WWW" T-Shirt, his
yellow pants and his green boots... And having the Brazilian face
painted on his face... And having a bombshell blonde arm-to-arm with
him... We know that this man can only be... Scorpio.]

JA: Scorpio, over here! Can you say some words for us?

SCORPIO: Some word for us. [grins] Now, seriously, what you wanna
know?

JA: Your thoughts about being here at Night of Glory.

SCORPIO: I am truly honored... I mean, there's a elite of wrestlers
here that any fed would KILL to have in their rosters... Some
of the biggest names in our sport are here... It's like a
Hollywood's night! But of course the ones who gain the most are
the fans... They will see some great action, and probably that
will be a night that they won't ever forget.

JA: And now about your match...

SCORPIO: I'm looking forward to it. Teaming with Juvenil and Kabuki
will be a great thing... And our opponents... Shakanuzi is
undoubtful a great wrestler... Akuma is a I-Crown Pool
winner... And Maia is an up-and-coming luchador... I think
it'll be a great challenge...

JA: And what your plans for the future?

SCORPIO: I believe the future is not written... So who can say what I
may be doing? I may sign a new contract right after tonight...
Or many contracts... Or even get a carrer-ending injury. Who
knows? The only thing I know is that I'm going to put my
maximum effort to win... Beacuse that's what my fans want me to
do. And I can't disappoint them.

JA: Thanks Scorpio and good luck tonight.

SCORPIO: The pleasure is all mine.

[The scene shifts to the broadcast table]

JW: Scorpio there, certainly the Gentleman.

CD: Yeah, tell him that when he gets a chair wrapped around his head by
some alleged "bad guy".

JW: And talking of wrestlers you might refer to as a bad guy, standing
by we have one of Scorpio's opponents for that match, Kashan Akuma.

[Scene fades in. Lust is in the air. It is the backstage area of
Wembley Arena. Various scantily clad females, some suspiciously
underaged, loiter aroujnd the bare area of the arena. Various wrestler
can be seen going in and out of rooms, as well as some of the females.
The Night of Glory crew is setting up for the big show, but some are
distracted by the bare midriffs, basically visible throughout the area.
Profylactic wrappers are littered in the corners of the concrete walls.]

[The camera shifts to show a single door. On the plain wooden door
their is a nameplate engraved with the words, "Kashan Asuma". The
garish brass door knob begins slowly turning and the door squeezes open.
Stepping out is Kashan Akuma. He is still in his street clothes
consisting of a white t-shirt with "IJW" written in bright red letters,
a pair of dark blue Mecca denim jeans, and a pair of Nike Air Fomposite
shoes. Adorning his babyface is a pair of black sunglasses.]

KA: [Pointing at nameplate.] I guess those idiots are still spelling
my name wrong. When I was first contacted for this event, I got
this letter in this mail box stating that a "Kashan Asuma" was being
begged to take part in this so-called Night of Glory. Well, you
know what they say about Brits... Nevermind, I don't but hey, isn't
that how Westerners make their little points or ideas. Over these
past few days, I've been cruising the dirty streets of London.
Seeing the sights. Checking out the... how do I put it, "feminine"
aspects of the population.

[A Japanese man wearing a green bandanna walks up to Akuma. The man is
short and slightly overweight, but let's just call him stocky. He is
wearing a black t-shirt with "Night of !YAG" written across it in yellow
letters, worn out pale blue cut-off denim shorts, and scuffed brown
Timberland boots. He rubs his face as he struts over to Akuma.]

KA: The docter is in the house! What're you doing man. What's up with
your face?

DPK: Dem uuugly wenches ova there, just layed da smack down on my
beautiful face. [Looks towards some females.] Kutabare, subeta!!!
Yeah, ya stanky wenches, the doctah iz to damn good fa any of
y'all. WHOOOOOOOOO!!!

KA: You have to know how to do it with style, K. Just hang back, I
guess the female Brits don't know the deal with the doctor. But for
all of you who don't know, this is Dr. Pirateo K, fellow member of
Zokugun Sangai. Also for those who don't know, Zokugun Sangai will
be in the...

DPK: Hizzouse tonite!

KA: Yeah, Zokugun Sangai will be here. Myself, Frazer Fury, and the
good doctor. So if you koshinukes try anything, the almighty ZS
will put you right in your place...

DPK: back inta ya locker rooms wit' da Vizzaseline.

[Akuma lets out a brief chuckle but composes himself. Pirateo is his
usual self, to drunk to control his behaviour. He tries to grab... a
female in a certain meaty area. Akuma pulls him back and smacks him on
the back of the head.]

KA: You know Chris Douglas, this country of yours is tied with Mexico as
the worst damn place that the Ikon has ever wrestled in. Canada
might've been a tad better. I saw the usual sights, heroin addict
in front of Westminster Abbey, beggars congregating in Picadilly
Circus, whores soliciting...

DPK: [Bleep]ingham Palace!! Dem wenches don't run cheap neitha! No
wonda they call it [Bleep]ingham Palace.

KA: I woudn't know anything about that, K. But all in all, it was a
disappointment. No wonder the UK doesn't have any big name
wrestlers. All they do is kick around a ball and run around like
schoolgirls in high socks.

DPK: Mmmm...schoolgirls.

[Akuma nudges Pirateo to shut him up. A female in a very tight shirt
and tight jeans just happens to walk right by. Akuma gives her a wink
and they trade sidelong glances.]

KA: I've wasted enough of my interview time talking daiben about London.
It's not worth the trouble. Let's get to the match. Some of you
might call me a hypocrite by it's not like a care one single bit. I
said I didn't care if I was to partake in your "Battle Royal". It's
more like "Battle Peasant" but that's not the point. Kashan Akuma
doesn't do losing, so although I don't care much for your big bash,
I'll be there, as well as my Zokugun Sangai teammate, Frazer Fury.
I guess you can whip out that plastic trophy of yours and spraypaint
some more of that cheap stuff on it, nice and pretty just for me.

DPK: Who is yo' opponents son?! Shiva me timbaz, but they must be
weak.

KA: Yeah, my opponents. First off, Kabuki Kid. You want to be Kashan
Akuma, don't you. I haven't seen you very vocal. Guess you got
other things in your mouth. Oral but not vocal, what an irony. You
follow me around like a cheap whore looking for a quick yen; you
anklebit your way into G-Pro, you tagged along all the way to Mexico
for IJW. It's going to end in the UK, Kabuki Kid, you won't make it
back to Japan, to your sugar daddy Tsuburaya. By the way, Ms. Miki,
thanks for that pre-match warm-up last night, my endurance is better
than ever.

DPK: Yeah! At the Marriott gotta keep it very hot! The real Big Ben.

KA: Infierno, you are just plain sad. The 450 is simpler than that
damn Leg Drop of Doom. But I guess since your a taco eating,
refried beans loving, luchadore, you won't know anything about
puroresu. Yo quiero Akuma... let's here you say that groupie. Just
like your teammate, you want to walk, you want to be like us. I
never knew EMWC offered a title to makeinu but you never know. As
for Scorpio, your shoulders will go down faster than the ruble,
faster than the Canadian dollar. I guess you'll have to
disappointments this year. Your makeinu nation losing the World Cup
and you pulling a Ronaldo and choking.

[Akuma clears his throat. Pirateo steps forward, bearing on closely to
a conservatively dressed business woman. She quickly pushes away from
him. He gets closer and receives an obligatory slap for his actions.]

KA: To my teammates. Do your _job_ and you won't get any daiben from
me. Get in my way, hah, you might be piled up with our opponents.
That especially goes to you Shakanuzi. You are nothing but a
makeinu in Gunryo Pro. When was the last time you had your arm
raised for reasons other than personal. You can whine all you want,
you'll never make it to the big leagues, you don't have the
attitude. You don't have the skill. Who _didn't_ you pull down.
When was the last time you actually had a **1/2 match. I don't
think it's possible. And Maia, your crazy Brazillian demeanor gets
some points from me but don't make me have to set you straight. You
go doing that crazy daiben and I might have to show you what chaos
is.

DPK: C'mon man, let's go hit some of this here man. It's the damn last
temptation of Pirateo.

KA: Alright. So puroresu fans, this is Akuma signing out. I'll make
sure I bring home the plastic. Now it's time to get some...

BOTH: ...Groupie therapy!!!

[Akuma and Pirateo saunter off. They approach a few assorted females
and do their thing. Akuma flashes his smile as he whips out the black
book. Pirateo just gets whipped. Scene fades to black as the camera
cuts back to ringside.]

CD: How dare he insult England! And I can't believe what he said about
Fu... I mean... Buckingham Palace!

JW: Folks, I am told not only to apologise yet again for Chris Douglas,
but also that one of Akuma's tag team partners is in the locker room
area as James Andrews tries to get a few words.

[The scene changes to inside the backstage area. James Andrews stands
next to a door that lead to a locker room.]

JA: Well, I am standing next to the locker room where according to some
informations, "Killer" Carlos Maia is heating for the big 6-man tag
match tonight... [knocks on the door] Mr. Maia?

VOICE: DON'T COME IN!!!

JA: Mr. Maia, it's James Andrews from Night of Glory broadcasting
team... I was told to get some words from you...

VOICE: ALL RIGHT! ALL RIGHT!! I'M COMING!!! [sounds of muthering]

[The door opens and the familiar mask of a colored devil appears... But
Maia doesn't want to open the door entirely.]

MAIA: WHAT THE [BLEEEP] YOU WANT HERE???

JA: Huh... Mr. Maia, in the name of the Night of Glory Off...

MAIA: YOU CAME HERE TO TALK ABOUT THAT OR TO ASK QUESTIONS?? ASK IT OR I
WILL BREAK EVERY BONE OF YOUR BODY... Some of them you never knew
they exist!

JA: Ack... Errr... What about your match tonight?

MAIA: What about that?

JA: Well, your thoughts?

MAIA: My thoughts now is you laid down in a pool of blood... And I'm
liking it. Don't make me like it too much. [grins]

JA: Owwww... Ahhh... *Ahem* What do you want to say about that "Night of
Chaos" that you refereed some days ago?

MAIA: WOW! Now THAT is an intelligent question! Let me answer that...
Tonight you are calling a "Night of Glory"... Glory... Doesn't
exist. It's a stupid conception. The only thing is Chaos. Chaos.
The entrophy. The complete Anarchy. The end of Order. And tonight
we'll celebrate it...

JA: And what will be this "celebration"?

MAIA: Watch the event... and try to survive... to tell the others...
Hehehehe... Hahahaha... BWAH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

[Maia closes the door suddenly, almost hitting Andrews. The scene shifts
back to the broadcast table.]

MM: Unbelievable.

CD: He's insane, Worthington! Get the man some help, FAST!

JW: Well, we're just about ready for that International Trios Match, but
before we take you back to ringside, let's get some last minute
words from the team of Juvenil Infierno, Scorpio and the Kabuki Kid.

[The scene changes to a locker room in the backstage. Seated there are
two men, and another one is standing right next to them. The three are
seeming to have a conversation. The man seated on the right wears a red
bodysuit with an orange and yellow flame design on it, the mask he wears
is of the same design, and his long black hair flows wildly from out the
top of his mask. This man is Juvenil Infierno, the EMWC Jr. Heavyweight
Champion. The man seated on the left is a handsome white guy, with a
short-cut blond hair and deep green eyes. He is sporting just yellow
pants and green boots and a white "SCORPIO BEATS WWW" t-shirt, which
denounces him as the Brazilian superstar of the ring, Scorpio. The man
standing next to him is the Kabuki Kid, he’s wearing silver with gold
trim wrestling pants and knee pads with his face painted black with a
red and white eagle adorning it. As they notice the camera, they stop
their conversation. The cam focuses on Juvenil.]

JI: [Speaking in Spanish, with English subtitles.] "Well, here we are.
The big Night of Glory event that just about everyone has been
waiting for...and we have an opportunity to be a part of this
historic event. I, for one, could not be more honored.
Unfortunately, only one of our opponents can say the same. The
others are simply out for either personal gain or the opportunity to
hurt someone. Not honorable in the least."

[A look of disgust crosses Juvenil's mouth and eyes, the only part of
his face which can truly be seen from underneath the mask he wears.]

"Maia...Akuma...the both of you make me sick. You two are wrestlers
who will never know the true meaning of what wrestling is all about.
Akuka, you seek fame? You seek glory? Well, fame and glory only
comes to those who are willing to put their heart and soul into the
sport. Maia, you want to hurt someone? You want to show me what
hell is like? You will accomplish that merely by stepping into the
ring against me. Because life will be hell for me just having to
face off against two dishonorable men such as yourselves."

SCORPIO: I gotta say something about this match... I am proud to be on
Night of Glory, as well as teaming with these two man. Kabuki,
I know you have great tradition and respect here... And you
Juvenil has been rocking the Cruiserweights' world... And I am
damn sure that our opponents are as hungry for victory as us...
Maia... I don't like you... I think that you are someone who
hide your lack of talent by cheating... Now Shakanuzi... I
respect you. You're a great wrestler and truly a legend on this
sport. I am looking forward to meet you in the ring... Because
I know that the fans will love this. Whoever win... They will
get some REAL nice action. May we win this. May not.

[Scorpio raises his head to the ceiling as if praying... But it takes
just a moment to stare back to the camera.]

SCORPIO: It's up to the Gods of wrestling to decide... The winners...
And the losers.

KK: (Smirk) Akuma-san, it looks as though we meet again. This
time there’s no where for you to hide and no one for you to hide
behind. I’ve got two exceptionally great athletes by my side in the
match up, so should I decide it’s time, I’ll take you outside the
ring and battle all over the arena, and allow them to win the match.
I know they can do it.

[Kabuki glances at Scorpio and Juvenil. The two men sitting nod their
heads in approval.]

KK: We’ve tangled in the past in the CIWF....we’re currently going at it
in G-Pro. Now we take our little show to the Night of Glory, where
I will dot the concrete with crimson red from your body.

[Kabuki’s expression changes from calm before the storm to anger.]

KK: Our war isn’t about honor, it isn’t about respect, it’s
about principal. It’s about how you made your presence felt to me
the first time we met. About how you ambushed me after I had
wrestled three times in one night to win the CIWF cruiserweight
title. It’s about your toire kucki that runs without any brain
power. It’s about punishment, the kind that I’ll deal out to you
tonight!

[Kabuki Kid walks off camera, and door can be heard slamming in the
background. Juvenil and Scorpio stay with a surprised look on their
faces. Scorpio shrugs and Juv
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

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| _ __ ______ |
| / | / /___ / ____/ AKUMA/MAIA/SHAKANUZI |
| / |/ / __ \/ /___ vs. |
| / /| / /_/ / /_/ / INFIERNO/SCORPIO/KID |
| /_/ |_/\____/\____/ |
| "AN EVENING OF STARS" Writers: Jeff Casey & ME! |
|______________________________________________________________|

JW: Folks, this next match is going to be one of our more interesting
ones and will pack a lot of international flavor. We're going to
see what stacks up to be an amazing best-of-three-falls trios match
between the team of Kashan Akuma, "Killer" Carlos Maia, and "The
Flyer" Jinsei Shakanuzi and the trio of Juvenil Infierno, Scorpio,
and the Kabuki Kid.

CD: Ah, they are all just a bunch of foriegners who couldn't lace up my
boots. You know it, Worthington!

[Cut to a shot of the ring, with ring announcer Mark Edwards standing in
the middle.]

Mark Edwards: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is an
international best-of-three-falls trios match!

[Crowd pop.]

Mark Edwards: Introducing first, hailing from Tokyo, Japan, weighing in
at 195 pounds...KASHAN AKUMA!!!

[An original piece of music, with taiko drumming, strings with some
guitar, begins to play over the PA. On the large screen, an image of a
Japanese flag appears. It quickly intercuts into a montage of Kashan
Akuma's greatest moments. A medium built man, with short spiky dark
black hair with a brown tint in streaks, and tatoos on his arms,
appears at the top of the ramp. He raises his I-Crown Asian title belt
high in the sky. He wears long black tights, with a blue flame with a
silver outline on each leg, along with "dare devil" in Japanese. He
also wears knee and shin pads with black boots. Kashan pauses at the
top of the ramp and he does some crotch chops as the pyrotechnics
explode. Fireworks go off along the ramp as they walks by, forming a
canopy. He stands on the ring apron holding the belt. He then does a
flip into the ring. Kashan then goes on to the middle rope and does a
few crotch chops there. He backflips off the the rope onto his feet as
the crowd boos loudly. He then proceeds to the centre of the ring where
he executes even more crotch chops as fireworks ignite from each
cornerpost in every direction.]

Mark Edwards: His partner, also hailing from Tokyo, Japan, and weighing
in at 230 pounds..."THE FLYER"...JINSEI SHAKANUZI!!!

["Them" by King Daimond blasts through the arena as Jinsei Shakanuzi
begins to walk down the aisle. The fans give out a loud response as
they clap their hands and cheer. Jinsei walks down the aisle, shaking
the fans' hands and finally enters the ring, executing a standing
reverse salto, giving out a standing ovation. He does some "jinga",
the dance of Capoeira and executes some kicks to warm-up.]

Mark Edwards: And their partner..."KILLER" CARLOS MAIA!!!

[Maia appears at the entrance ramp and makes his way to the ring,
with no real fanfare.]

Mark Edwards: Their opponents...introducing first...hailing from
Guadalajara, Mexico, and weighing in at 198 pounds...JUVENIL INFIERNO!!!

["Fire in the Sky" by Ozzy Osbourne begins to play over the
loudspeakers. Juvenil Infierno comes out from behind the curtains
to a large pop from the crowd! Infierno is a slightly-tanned young
Latin man, with a lean but well-defined build. He wears a bodysuit
covering everything except his arms and neck. The suit is red and
yellow, with flame designs running down the legs and across the
upper-torso. He wears a red and yellow pull-over mask with a similar
design on it. His long black hair flows out of the top of the mask,
where there is a hole. "Infierno" is written in flames across the
seat of his tights. Infierno runs down the aisleway, down to ringside.
He quickly scales the top rope and stands poised up there for a few
seconds before suddenly breathing an impressive plume of fire out of
his mouth, the crowd cheering wildly in appreciation. The youngster
then does a forward somersault, landing on his feet inside the ring.]

Mark Edwards: His partner...fighting out of Sao Paulo, Brazil...weighing
in at 246 pounds...SCORPIO!!!

["Carry On" by Angra starts as Scorpio and Erika appears, arm-to-arm.
They slap hands with all the fans and then Scorpio leaps over the top
rope into the ring. He stands in the middle of the ring and he raises
his arms. Yellow and green fireworks explode over the ring and the
crowd cheers even louder.]

MM: Five great wrestlers are in the ring right now.

JW: And we still have one more participant to go, folks...

CD: You mean one more piece of filth to go, Worthington.

[As if on cue...

A loud Led Zepplin-isk guitar riff engrosses the crowd. Then a
singer screams at the top of his lungs.]

# BBBBAAAAAAAAABBBBBBBBBBBYYYYYYYY!!!! #

[Suddenly, a loud ovation takes over the crowd. Out from behind the
entrance way curtains the oriental bombshell Ms. Miki appears.]

# Somehow you seem to glow #

[She is wearing a red with gold dragon embroidery, oriental styled,
shape hugging mini-dress. The top is a turtle neck, with the bottom
hanging down mid-thigh with a slit over her left leg that goes up
four inches. She's wearing red, open toed heels, with an ankle strap
that has a gold dragon for the buckle. The dress accents her amazing
legs.]

# TAAAAAAKKKKKKKEEEEE MMMMMMEEEEEE! #

[She gets about half way to the ring when a 6' 7" monster of a man
walks out from the entrance way curtains.]

# Where history unfolds #

[Jack Banks is Ms. Miki's bodyguard. He's sporting black reebox,
black slacks with pleats, and a white, long sleeve, button down,
white shirt, that hardly contains his massive physique.]

# I have a Blacklight #
# It makes her radiant #
# I love my Blacklight #
# My girl's flourescent #

[Ms. Miki makes it to ringside and steps up the stairs and enters the
ring. The crowd cheers wildly for the Asian beauty.]

# SUM..UM..UM..UMMER......of love? #
# One your might have missed #

[Jack Banks walks over towards the press table crosses his arms and
looks on intensely.]

# Peace, Love and harmony #
# At a flick of the switch #

[The chorus to the David Lee Roth Band's "Blacklight" plays as Ms.
Miki waves to the crowd. The ring announcer hands her the
microphone.]

# Foxy Lady #
# I'm coming to get ya #

[The music fades out.]

Ms. Miki: Konbanwa!!! (Loud ovation) I'm Ms. Miki!! (Another loud
cheer) Tonight you'll get to bare witness to the greatest
cruiserweight in the sport today. He'll dazzle you with his
aerila abilities and wrestling excellence. He hails from the
"Land of the Rising Sun", Nagoya, Japan, and weighs in at a
compact 215 pounds. He'll rekindle your childhood dreams of
the unbelievable. He's the tour guide to your imagination,
the "Ruler of the Airways", the KABUKI KID!!!!

["Hotter than Hell" by KISS blares over the PA as the lights go out.
Flames engulf the entrance way, blanketing it in a sheet of hot, red and
yellow lights. The Kabuki Kid walks through the flames to a monstrous
ovation, wearing a black, red, and gold robe that hangs to the floor,
with a long, puffy, white hairpiece, and an "evil spirit" mask. He
walks towards the ring methodically as the flames from the entrance
way illuminate the sell out crowd. His shadow stretches to the ring,
flickering with each change of the flames intensity. Once to the ring,
Kabuki Kid walks up the steps to the apron. There he leaps to the top
rope and stands facing out towards the crowd. He takes off his robe
and hairpiece, dropping them to the ring attendant. His physique is
a ball of compact muscles that looks as if they are going to burst
from his skin at any moment. He's wrestling pants and boots are
silver with gold trim. Kabuki Kid slowly raises his hand to his face,
grabs the mask and whips it off, and throws it into the crowd. A
huge explosion goes off and the other three corner posts shoot flames
into the air. His face is painted in black with a red and white
eagle. The wings cover his eyes and hang down his cheeks. The neck
and head of the eagle rests on his forehead. His head is shaved
bald. Suddenly, he back flips off the top turnbuckle landing on his
feet in the middle of the ring. The ovation swells, then finally dies
down as the music fades out and Kabuki Kid stands in the far corner
awaiting for the match to start.]

CD: Finally! Damn, thought that entrance would never end...

JW: Well, folks, we're about to get underway here...

CD: [Bursts out laughing] Look at Akuma! He looks ill from that
entrance!

[Indeed, as Akuma is obviously faking sickness after the Kabuki Kid's
ring entrance, holding his stomach and moaning.]

*DING DING DING*

MM: We are now official underway.

[Akuma quickly goes through the ropes and to the ring apron. He is
followed momentarily by Maia. On the other side of the ring, there
is some discussion between the three members of the opposing trio.
Finally, Scorpio comes forth and Infierno and the Kid go to the
apron.]

JW: Apparently it's going to be "The Flyer" Jinsei Shakanuzi starting
off against Scorpio.

CD: Joseph Worthington: master of the obvious.

[Both men seem rather cautious about locking up. Finally, they come
together and lock up.]

MM: Both men were rather tentative about locking up, but now we have a
basic collar-elbow tie-up.

[Both men push with all their might, but Scorpio uses his sixteen pound
weight advantage, shoving Shakanuzi to the mat. Shakanuzi rolls
backwards, popping back up to his feet. He stares soberly at Scorpio,
who rolls his shoulder a bit as if loosening it up.]

JW: It's rather obvious, wrestling fans, that Shakanuzi isn't going
to beat Scorpio in a test of strength.

[As if in defiance of Worthington's comments, Shakanuzi raises his hand
in the air, challenging Scorpio to a test of strength. Scorpio accepts,
putting his left hand to Shakanuzi's right. As Scorpio raises his right
hand, Shakanuzi sees the opening and plants a vicious right-legged kick
in the Brazilian's midsection, following up by applying a hammerlock to
Scorpio's left arm.]

JW: I thought Shakanuzi was actually going to try to match Scorpio
for strength there for a second.

MM: Obviously Shakanuzi knows that Scorpio is much stronger than him and
is going to try to counter strength with wit.

[Scorpio reaches back with his free hand, trying to grab Shakanuzi's
hair. However, the referee slaps Scorpio's hand away. Scorpio then
reaches between his legs, grabs Shakanuzi's left leg, and pulls the
Japanese martial artist down, causing him to release the hold.
Shakanuzi, however, pushes Scorpio off with a right foot to the
rump.]

MM: Good exchange by both men.

JW: And Shakanuzi pushes Scorpio off with his right leg.

[Instead of stopping after being pushed off, Scorpio runs into the
ropes. Shakanuzi rolls to his stomach as Scorpio comes off on the
rebound and hurdles over his prone opponent. As Scorpio comes back a
second time, Shakanuzi springs to his feet but gets leveled by a
lariat from his stronger opponent.]

CD: There's no way Shakanuzi can do that kind of stuff against a
musclehead like Scorpio. He has to use that martial arts of his to
wear this dumb ox down.

JW: Shakanuzi is reeling from that big lariat. Scorpio picks Shakanuzi
back up and whips him into the ropes...

[Shakanuzi leaps from the rebound and surprises Scorpio with a high
cross body, but Scorpio easily powers out after the one-count.]

MM: "Flyer" isn't going to be able to put the fresh Scorpio away just
like that, but he's gotten the big man off his feet. If he can just
find a way to keep him down.

[Shakanuzi attempts to do just that, clamping a reverse chinlock on
Scorpio as the larger man comes up to a seated position.]

JW: Smart wrestling by Shakanuzi. The longer this match goes, the
worse toll it will take on the big Brazilian.

CD: Aren't these guys supposed to be such spectacular high-flyers or
something? When are we going to see that?

MM: You can't just come out with a high-flying offense so early,
Chris. As a wrestler, you should know that. This is smart,
conservative wrestling on the part of Jinsei Shakanuzi.

CD: Oh, of course *I* know that, but nobody's ever made the mistake
of calling these guys smart.

[Scorpio attempts to power to his feet. Shakanuzi seems to allow him
to do so, but turns the chinlock into a side headlock. Scorpio then
finds himself in enemy territory as Shakanuzi forces him into his
home corner. Akuma grabs Scorpio's tights from behind as Shakanuzi
tags out to Carlos Maia. Maia plants several vicious kicks in
Scorpio's ribs, until the referee forces Shakanuzi to release the
headlock and leave the ring.]

JW: Well, Shakanuzi's out now, but Akuma still has a hold of Scorpio's
trunks.

[Maia backs off, then charges back into the corner with a splash, as
Scorpio is unable to get free of Akuma's grip. Maia backs out of the
corner again, and his Brazilian foe dizzily stumbles out. "Killer"
catches Scorpio in the mouth with a brutal dropkick and goes for the
cover.]

CD: Scorpio may never eat solid food again!

JW: Maia with a cover, but he gets only a two-count. Still, Scorpio is
being worn down quite effectively.

MM: Indeed.

[Maia now clamps a reverse chinlock on Scorpio. However, Erika
begins to rally the fans behind Scorpio, and the Brazilian begins to
fight the hold. He struggles to his feet, frees himself with a pair
of elbows to Maia's midsection, then rushes into the ropes, coming
back and flooring Maia with a lariat. Scorpio then shakes his head
to clear the cobwebs, half runs and half walks to his corner, and
tags the Kabuki Kid. The crowd gives a decent pop.]

CD: Drat! Just when it seemed he was getting worn down, that musclehead
tags out.

JW: Well, folks, Scorpio really needed to make the tag there. Maia and
Shakanuzi had him worn down somewhat. This will give the larger man
a chance to rest now.

[But Scorpio's not quite ready to take a rest, as he lifts Maia up in
a bearhug. The Kid mounts the top turnbuckle and springs off,
nailing Maia with a flying clothesline.]

MM: Good teamwork by Scorpio and the Kabuki Kid. Kid with a lateral
press, but he gets only a two. He should have hooked the leg there.

CD: Psh...he's not going to pin Maia this early in the match anyway.

JW: Yes, but that will cause Maia to expend more energy kicking out.

[The Kid pulls Maia up and whips him into the ropes, catching him
with a clothesline on the rebound. Kabuki takes a step back and then
drops down with a headbutt.]

JW: Headbutt drop by the Kabuki Kid. Another cover, but he gets only a
two.

[Kabuki pulls Maia up and whips him into the corner. He then charges
in, runs up the turnbuckle, then kicks off Maia and backflips. Maia
stumbles out of the corner only to get caught in a dropkick that
sends him back into the corner. The Kid rushes over and tags in
Juvenil Infierno and then drops down to his hands and knees in front
of Maia. Infierno runs and springboards off of the Kid's back,
catching Maia with a huracanrana that peels him out of the corner.]

JW: Infiernorana! Nice teamwork on the part of the Kabuki
Kid/Infierno/Scorpio trio thus far.

[Maia rolls through to his feet and charges angrily at Infierno,
taking the luchador down with a clothesline. Infierno kips back up
to his feet and Maia charges again. This time, however, Maia goes
flying via a Japanese armdrag executed to perfection by Infierno.
Good crowd pop.]

JW: Both men back up to their feet, and the way Maia is staring at
Infierno...

MM: If looks could kill, eh?

CD: [Snorts] Well, they don't call him "Killer" for nothing, you know.

JW: Both men with a good, quick exchange, but Infierno definitely came
out on top on that one.

[Maia goes to tag out to Akuma, who turns his back to his partner.]

JW: What is Akuma doing?

MM: Well, he has the chance to be going into the battle royal later
tonight, but he should be concentrating on this match right now.

CD: If *you* were going into a battle royal later, wouldn't you want to
be fresh?

MM: Perhaps...but Maia is very angry right now...look out!!!

[With Maia's back turned to his opponent, Infierno sees an opening
and rushes in, dropkicking "Killer" in the back. This knocks Maia
into the corner and, inadvertently, his hand hits Akuma.]

JW: Uh-oh. Carlos Maia's hand accidentally hit Akuma who did not
want to be tagged in...but the official is counting that as a legal
tag!

[Big crowd pop as Akuma angrily spins around. The referee tells
Akuma to get into the ring. The self-proclaimed "Ikon no Puroresu"
hesitates, and the ref starts laying on a ten-count.]

Mark Edwards: [Over the house mic] If Kashan Akuma does not enter the
ring, he will be counted out!

[Another crowd pop, and Akuma angrily stares from Maia to the official
and back again.]

JW: Akuma is irate. Apparently you were right, Mike: Akuma is trying
to stay fresh for the battle royal, but it may have backfired.

[The referee is now up to a four count. The fans start to count
along:

"Five!"

"Six!"

"Seven!"

"Eight!"

Finally, Akuma reluctantly steps into the ring.]

JW: Akuma decided to fight, but this isn't at all to his liking.

CD: Like I said before, if you are going into a battle royal, you want
to be fresh. A six-man tag will wear you down a lot!

[Juvenil rushes at Akuma, but gets caught with a kick to the
midsection. Akuma then underhooks both of Infierno's arms and pulls
him up as if going for a double underhook power bomb. Instead, Akuma
drops the luchador down across his knee back-first. Infierno falls
to the mat and clutches at his back.]

JW: Akuma floors the young Juvenil with a double underhook backbreaker.
That definitely gives the I-Crown Asian champion control of the
match.

[Akuma drops a quick leg across Juvenil's throat, then plants an
elbowdrop on the luchador's face. Akuma drops across Infierno's
chest and hooks a leg.]

MM: Akuma with a pin. One...

Two...

Juvenil kicks out!

CD: But Akuma is going to make that squirt pay dearly!

[Akuma comes back to his feet, pulls up Infierno's right leg, and
applies a figure-four on it. Instead of falling back, however, he
remains standing but bridges over to the side. Juvenil screams out
in pain.]

CD: Heh heh. That ought to keep that masked freak from doing all those
stupid flips.

JW: That is an incredibly smart move on Akuma's part. Grounding the
Luchador is good strategy, as his arsenal is chock-full of aerial
maneuvers.

[The camera zooms in on Juvenil's face. Despite the mask, you can
tell he is grimacing in pain. He screams out as Akuma applies
further pressure.]

CD: [Laughs] Look at that! Juvenil might as well give it up. Maybe he
can salvage that knee.

MM: I don't think Infierno will submit; he's got too much heart.
Although, if that knee takes too much punishment, submission might
not be a bad idea.

[Akuma, realizing that Juvenil isn't going to submit, releases the
hold. The referee forces Akuma to back off while he checks in on
Juvenil. The luchador is apparently able to continue, as he staggers
back to his feet, limping slightly. The crowd cheers him on.]

JW: What a show of heart from the young Mexican!

[Akuma, however, cuts Juvenil's comeback short by landing a brutal
dropkick on his hurt knee. Juvenil cries out in pain again as his
knee folds beneath him.]

JW: Good lord! Akuma is relentless.

CD: Hee hee! And smart! Now *that's* what I call talent.

[Akuma stomps viciously on Juvenil's knee several times, then tags
out to Shakanuzi.]

MM: Shakanuzi looks like a hunting cat stalking his prey.

[Shakanuzi applies an STF to the injured knee of the grounded
luchador. Juvenil screams out in pain.]

JW: And "Flyer" doing even more damage to the knee of Infierno.

[The Kabuki Kid and Scorpio begin to stomp their feet and clap,
encouraging their teammate to not surrender to the pain. The fans
also join in.]

CD: I *hate* this!!! My ears are bleeding!

JW: Juvenil's teammates and fans are rallying behind him.

[Juvenil's arms flail about, trying to reach the ropes. Finally, he
grabs the bottom rope, forcing the break.]

JW: Folks, you really have to admire the heart and determination of
Juvenil Infierno.

CD: Heart and determination!? [Makes a rude sound.] "Stupidity" is the
word for it.

[Jinsei stomps on Infierno's bad knee a couple of times and the ref
pushes him away, warning him about his behavior. Infierno, seizing
the opportunity, begins the agonizing crawl to his corner to make the
tag.]

JW: Look at Juvenil go! He's about to make the tag to Scorpio!

[Just as Juvenil reaches out to tag his Brazilian teammate, Shakanuzi
grabs the luchador's legs and pulls him away. The crowd lets out a
disappointing, "Ohhhh."]

JW: Fans, you really have to feel for Juvenil there. He has taken
so much punishment to that bad knee. He was so close to tagging in
Scorpio, but Shakanuzi managed to catch him.

CD: Heh heh...and now he's going to make him pay.

[Shakanuzi applies an inverted Indian deathlock, causing excrusiating
pain and further damage to the young luchador's knee. However,
Juvenil manages to grab the bottom rope once again, forcing the
break. As Shakanuzi reluctantly lets go, he plants a couple more
vicious stomps on the knee. The referee backs Shakanuzi away again,
warning him that his actions could lead to a disqualifications.
Meanwhile, Juvenil rushes on hands and knees to his home corner and
makes the hot tag to Scorpio. BIG crowd pop!]

JW: Juvenil makes the tag! In comes Scorpio!

[Just as Scorpio enters the ring, Juvenil collapses in the corner.
Shakanuzi rushes at Scorpio, but is leveled with a big lariat. In
comes "Killer" Carlos Maia, who clocks Scorpio with a forearm smash
to the back of the head. The Kabuki Kid, however, returns the favor
by hopping up on the top rope and coming off with a springboard
dropkick to the back of Maia's head. The crowd comes out of their
seats!]

CD: NOW things are picking up!

MM: This is what the fans have been waiting for! The tentativeness
is out the window so-to-speak and the action is just heating up!

[Akuma, looking reluctant to leave the corner but unable to resist an
opportunity to attack his rival, enters the ring, comes up from
behind the Kabuki Kid, spins him around, and tosses him with a
thunderous snap suplex. Without releasing the Kid, Akuma rolls over
and throws him with *another* snap suplex, then another, and finally,
a fourth. The crowd pops again.]

JW: The snap suplex! One of the Kid's favorite moves!

MM: *Four* snap suplexes!

CD: Come on, Akuma! Take it to him!

[Meanwhile, Scorpio is getting to his feet near the ropes. Maia and
Shakanuzi charge at him with a double clothesline, sending him over
the top rope and to the floor. Shakanuzi quickly mounts the top
turnbuckle and leaps on to Scorpio with a plancha! The crowd
erupts.]

JW: Shakanuzi with a big plancha on to Scorpio! And both men are down!

CD: That's exactly why they call him "The Flyer!"

[The Kabuki Kid staggers to his feet and, seeing Scorpio and
Shakanuzi outside the ring, dashes and dives through the ropes with a
tope, all three men toppling in a heap of humanity. Another huge pop
from the audience.]

JW: Tope by the Kid!!! All three men are down now!

[Shakanuzi, Scorpio, and the Kid stumble to their feet just in time
to be knocked back down by a spaceman plancha from Carlos Maia. The
crowd erupts again.]

MM: Maia with a variation of the plancha! This is insane...

JW: This is where these athletes are most comfortable: in the air.

CD: In the air? They spend more time semi-conscious on the floor.

JW: Wait a second!!! Juvenil is up!!!

[The crowd erupts as Juvenil gets to his feet with the aid of the
ropes, sprints across the ring, does a double handspring and soars
over the top rope with a moonsault on to the four men on the outside
who had just regained their footing.]

JW: Infierno with a SASUKE SPECIAL!!! How did he DO that!?

[Akuma quietly slides out of the ring, unnoticed by most as the fans
are still giving deafening cheers for the multiple dives to the
floor. He grabs a chair from ringside.]

MM: Wait a minute...Akuma's got a chair. What's he doing?

CD: [Laughs knowingly] Oh...I see where this is going. Heh heh...

[Akuma heads over to the mass of humanity on the floor, and, just as
Scorpio gets to his feet, cracks him in the back of the head with the
chair. The Brazilian collapses back to the floor.]

JW: Oh my god! Did you see that?

CD: See it? I *felt* it. That was great! Smart move by Kashan
Akuma...

[Akuma helps Shakanuzi to his feet and rolls him back into the ring.
He then tells the referee to count.]

JW: Wait a second. Shakanuzi and Scorpio are the legal men...

[The referee begins the count...

One...

Two...

Three...

Four...

The Kid and Maia start to move, but Infierno and Scorpio seem out
cold.

Five...

Six...

Seven...

The Kid and Maia are both getting to their feet.

Eight...

Nine...

Ten!]

Mark Edwards: [On the house mic] Scorpio has been counted out!

[Crowd boos.]

ME: The score is 1-0 in favor of the team of Akuma, Maia, and Shakanuzi.

JW: Well, that is a rather cheap way to win a fall, but the match isn't
over yet...

[In the ring, Akuma raises Shakanuzi's arm and pats him on the back.
He then goes back to the corner.]

MM: Akuma with some words of encouragement to Shakanuzi. It would
appear that Akuma just doesn't want to get in the ring too much.
Shakanuzi and Maia have been far more active on their team's part.

CD: What can you say, Mike? Akuma is just a smart, smart man. He's
still fresh. That way, when the Kid, Infierno, and Scorpio are all
tired out, he can still go full out.

JW: You may be right, Chris, but Akuma certainly isn't being very much
of a team player.

CD: Like I said, he's a smart man...

[We cut to a shot of the Kid checking on Infierno and Scorpio.
Juvenil is sitting up, but clutching his knee in pain. Scorpio's
scalp has been busted open by Akuma's chairshot and he is just now
starting to stir.]

JW: My god...Scorpio's bleeding.

[Cut to a shot of Erika, who appears on the verge of tears, her hands
over her mouth.]

JW: Poor, poor girl...she's very concerned about Scorpio.

CD: Ah, she's just worried about her meal ticket, that's all...

[The Kid looks to his teammates, then to the ring where Akuma,
Shakanuzi, and Maia are all in their corner. The Kid then walks over
to the ring, hops up on the apron, and slingshots over the top rope,
landing on his feet. The crowd applauds.]

MM: I have to admire his courage, but I'm not so sure if this is the
smartest thing for Kabuki to do...

*DING DING DING*

JW: There's the bell and we are officially underway once again. I
suppose the legal men are Shakanuzi and the Kid.

[The Kid points to Akuma. Shakanuzi turns to Akuma, who backs
away, throws up his hands, and shakes his head. Shakanuzi then looks
to Maia, who sticks out his hand for the tag. The tag is made and
Maia replaces Shakanuzi in the ring.]

MM: Akuma's behavior this evening is odd...why would he pass up an
opportunity to face his archrival in the ring?

CD: Doesn't *anybody* listen to me...[Speaks really slowly]
he's...trying...to...conserve...energy...

[Maia rushes at the Kid with a clothesline, but Kabuki catches Maia
in a gutwrench position and flips him over with incredible velocity.
Maia's back collides with the canvas with tremendous impact.]

JW: That was almost a snap gutwrench suplex! But Maia is getting
back to his feet!

MM: Maia has a reputation as a bit of a...shall we say...

CD: Psycho?

MM: Quite.

[Maia rakes the Kid across the face. "Killer" follows up with a boot
to the midsection and a double arm DDT. He then rolls the Kid over
for a quick cover.]

JW: Maia with a double-arm DDT and a lateral press...

One...

Two...

No! The Kid kicks out.

[Maia stomps the Kid as he gets up to his knees. Kabuki retaliates
by pulling Maia's legs out from under him. Both men get back to
their feet at the same time. The Kid, however, gets the advantage
and throws Maia to the mat with a vicious snap suplex.]

JW: We saw Akuma "borrow" that move earlier, but nobody executes a
snap suplex like the Kabuki Kid.

CD: What? Just because one guy uses a move, does that mean another
guy can't use the same move?

[Big crowd pop. Camera pans over to the corner opposite Akuma and
Shakanuzi's, and we see Infierno and Scorpio climbing up to the
apron.]

JW: Scorpio and Infierno are back to their feet! Amazing!

MM: They look a bit worse for the wear, but they are certainly
showing amazing determination.

CD: [In mock sadness] Ah...once again, you mistake stupidity for
determination...

[Meanwhile, the Kabuki Kid takes Maia over with another snap suplex,
drawing a huge reaction from the crowd. Kabuki follows up with
another headbutt drop. He then jumps back to his feet and nails a
vicious kneedrop across Maia's face.]

JW: Good lord! He could have broken "Killer's" nose!

MM: Kabuki takes his time now as Maia starts to roll over to his corner.
Kabuki, realising where Maia is going tries to cut him off, bit it's
too late now as he tags in Shakanuzi.

JW: All of these men are worn down, but they're still battling on as
Kabuki Kid hits a European Uppercut on Shakanuzi. Kid with a
bodyslam and he tags in Scorpio!

MM: A bloody Scorpio is valiantly in there as he runs at Shakanuzi and
almost takes his head off with a clothesline! Shakanuzi is up to
his feet but a little dazed as Scorpio grabs onto his head... DDT!!

CD: GET UP!

JW: Scorpio climbing up top, and what's he doing...

[Scorpio with his back to Shakanuzi on the top rope yells "CATCH THE
WAVE!", then jumps off and lands a reverse moonsault legdrop, and
quickly hooks the leg as the ref starts to count.]

MM: GOOD LORD!

JW: THAT COULD DO IT RIGHT THERE!...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!

[Scorpio gets a huge crowd response as he rolls over to his own corner
and is congratulated to some extent by his team-mates.]

JW: We now have things levelled up at one fall a piece. Folks, this
will be the deciding factor as the fatigue level has more than set
in by now.

CD: Any of these men are easy pickings now, Worthington. One mistake
and it'll be all over.

[DING DING DING]

JW: Well, we're back underway now as Kabuki Kid is yelling at Scorpio to
get back to the center of the ring. I guess it's he and Shakanuzi
the legal men?

MM: I'd imagine so, but Shakanuzi tags out to Maia, who is over to a
worn-down Scorpio who quite frankly, is easy pickings right now.

CD: Scorpio should have stayed out of this. He's hurt, Worthington.

JW: That's true, and Maia is really going to work now as he pulls
Scorpio up, and with an eyerake and a chokeshold backs Scorpio into
the neutral corner. The ref there trying to force the break, but
having no luck as Maia burns Scorpio's head across the top rope.

MM: And risking a disqualification I might add.

CD: Ahh, the ref's lenient, Masterson. When I'm in there with a ref
like Johnson, I'd do every illegal move in the book until he warns
me, and then I'd do one more for luck!

JW: Well, it might not be such good luck for Maia if his team are
disqualified and lose this match.

MM: Maia sends Scorpio into the ropes and rebounds off the other side.
Maia with a running dropkick and *nails* Scorpio.

[Maia moves over to his corner where Kashan Akuma is facing the crowd
and mocking them. Maia slaps Akuma on the back, and the ref declares it
as a tag.]

JW: Akuma is reluctant to get in there, but since Scorpio is down on the
canvas, he'd better get in fast if he wants to capitalise on the
situation.

[Akuma reluctantly gets into the ring as Scorpio gets to his feet.
Akuma runs over to Scorpio and executes a spinning heel kick.]

CD: Ha! Scorpio's down again, Worthington! No sooner had he got up
than he got put back down. Now put him out of his misery, Kashan!

[Akuma grabs onto Scorpio's head as he pulls him to his feet and towards
a neutral corner. Akuma locks on a front facelock as he sits on the top
turnbuckle. Akuma jumps while swinging around and driving Scorpio's
head into the canvas with a DDT.]

JW: TORNADO DDT!! That'll do it if Akuma just covers Scorpio and we'll
have a winning team.

MM: I'm not usually one to count Scorpio out, but I think that should do
it as Akuma covers and the ref is there to count...

.

.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR... SCORPIO GETS THE SHOUDER UP!

JW: An *amazing* display of resilience by Scorpio as Akuma turns to the
ref and starts to argue.

CD: I hope the ref is fluent in Japanese then!

MM: I'd very much doubt that.

CD: Hey, I am! Check it out... Joshihiro sushimitsu makahiro wahaa!

JW: Will you stop!

MM: Akuma now looks ready to finish things off. He's picking Scorpio up
into a tombstone piledriver position, and that can only mean the
Cyclone Fury Driver!

[As Akuma picks Scorpio up, Scorpio slips out the back door, landing
behind Akuma. Before Akuma can turn around, Scorpio jumps forwards,
holding onto Akuma's head and putting him to the canvas with a bulldog
headlock type move. Scorpio also falls to the canvas, but starts to
roll towards his corner.]

JW: What an amazing reversal by Scorpio as he moves towards his corner.
He reaches up for someone to tag, and astonishingly the Kabuki Kid
tags right in!

CD: The Kid and Akuma have been caught up in a wild feud, Worthington.
It's no surprise they want to beat on each other, especially when
one of them is down on the canvas.

[Kabuki Kid hooks Akuma's head, and lifts him up in a suplex position
before bringing him down across the top rope, using this as a
springboard to send Akuma bouncing into the air and back down to the
mat.]

JW: OUCH! That'll leave a mark. A beautiful snap slingshot suplex
there found it's mark and left Akuma in a world of hurt.

MM: Kid now, with a kneedrop across the head of Akuma, and he hooks the
leg...

.

ONE

.

TWO

.

AKUMA KICKS OUT!

JW: Kabuki Kid pulls Akuma up, but Akuma slides around the back, and
locks in a full nelson... NO! HE TURNS IT INTO A DRAGON SUPLEX,
PUTTING THE KID TO THE CANVAS!

CD: HEY! That's MY move!

JW: The ref makes the count on Kabuki...

.

.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

KABUKI KICKS OUT!

MM: Two near falls right there. Either of these two men are easy
pickings right now as Kabuki Kid turns the tide once again as he
takes Akuma over in a snap gutwrench suplex.

JW: Kabuki there, grabbind his head. He took a great amount of impact
when his head and neck hit the canvas in that Dragon Suplex just a
few moments ago. Kabuki picks him up, and he's going for another of
those snap suplexes. He's really worn away at Akuma these last few
minutes, and if he hits this, it could be a direct set up for that
Kamikaze Drop of his.

CD: He'll have to hit the suplex first, Worthington! Akuma's blocked
it!

[Akuma indeed blocks the suplex, and as Kabuki loosens his grip, Akuma
with great speed, picks up Kabuki into in inverted piledriver position.]

JW: GOOD LORD! HERE IT COMES...

.

.

.

.

CYCLONE FURY DRIVER!!

[Akuma spins as he drops Kabuki in a tombstone piledriver. Akuma
quickly covers Kabuki and hooks the leg. Scorpio and Juvenil Infierno
come into the ring, but are cut off by Shakanuzi and Maia as the ref
drops down to count.]

MM: COVER!...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

[DING DING DING]

CD: HE DID IT! Akuma did it!

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... here are your winners... the team
of KASHAN AKUMA, CARLOS MAIA AND JINSEI SHAKANUZI!!

[The crowd, not too happy with the decision boo as the six men start to
brawl in and out of the ring. Akuma, Maia and Shakanuzi are quick to
leave the brawl and move towards the locker room area.]

CD: That's smart, Worthington! They know they're through to the battle
royal so they're saving themselves for that!

JW: A hard fought victory in this International Trios Match as Akuma,
Shakanuzi and Maia advance to the battle royal. Well, it seems like
we have some comments from the tag team of Magus and Alex Extreme
who will be facing off against Gabriel Whitecross and Sean Watts
later on tonight. Let's go back to the locker room.

[Camera switches to infront of a door which reads "Magus" on it. From
inside we can hear some raised voices, not yelling, but simply raised
voices as if an arguement was about to break out.

We can hear someone say, "No, I'm the star of this team." In response
someone else says "You're nothing more than the guy standing in _my_
corner."

The cameraman continues to knock, and the door is quickly swung open to
an angered Magus.]

MAGUS - Get the hell outta here!

[Magus puts his hand over the camera and then promptly slams the door
with a _THUD_ right in the camera man's face. The yelling continues as
the camera switches back to the announcer's table.]

MM: Seems like those two men have a problem with who will be the
"main man" of the team. We'll just have to wait and see how this
story unfolds.

JW: We'll find that out later on tonight, folks, but for now let's go to
the back where Night of Glory reporter James Andrews stands with
Setzer Van Strife.

[Camera shifts to the back as Setzer Van Strife and James Andrews are
standing.]

JA: Mr. Van Strife, some heated words have taken place between you and
LOCO. Does this hurt your friendship?

SVS: He's choosen to make this a laughing matter. All I ever wanted to
do was face my mentor one on one. Obviously this has become some
kind of joke to LOCO. However we are both professionals and we will
go out there and settle our score like men.

[James pulls the mic back top his mouth]

JA: Tonight's match is in a cage. The most dangerous match in wrestling.
It can end careers! Are you afraid?

[SVS glares at Andrews]

SVS: I am not afraid of anything. I believe in myself and am going to
prove once and for all....

[Suddenly from nowhere...]

**THUD**

[With the sound of fury a chair hits the back of the head of Setzer Van
Strife. On the other end of the mass of metal... The "Legend" LOCO]

JA: What the...

[Andrews runs for cover. A bent over Van Strife takes another hit from
the chair as security rushes in to separate the two men. Cut back to the
commentary booth.]

JW: OH MY! Folks, I'm getting word that there is more trouble out in
the locker room area between Alex Extreme and Magus. This could get
ugly, folks. Let's get to the back!

[Cut to Extreme trying to ram the door of Magus' locker room down with a
fire extinguisher...Extreme now sporting a black eye.]

AE: YOU SON OF A BI<BLEEP>H!!! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE YOU STUPID OLD ASS
M<BLEEEEEEEP>ER!!!

[NoG Security comes down the hall trying to restrain Extreme who still
is trying to ram down Magus' door.]

AE: Experience--Open this door and I'll give ya an experience you'll
never forget!!!

[Extreme, yelling, kicking, and screaming obsecenties now being dragged
off down the hall by NoG security.]

[Cut back to ringside.]

MM: What in the world is going to happen in that tag team match?
Extreme and Magus are supposed to be teaming up later tonight, and
if they aren't able to conduct themselves in an orderly manner in
the locker room together, who in the world are they going to
co-operate in the ring?

JW: We'll find out later on tonight. But now folks, we are ready for
our next match-up. Let's take you to ringside!
______________________________________________________________
| _ __ ______ |
| / | / /___ / ____/ "OUTLAW" BOBBY TAYLOR |
| / |/ / __ \/ /___ vs. |
| / /| / /_/ / /_/ / "THUNDER" CURTIS HANSEN |
| /_/ |_/\____/\____/ (OUTLAW RULES MATCH) |
| "AN EVENING OF STARS" Writer: ME! |
|______________________________________________________________|

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... the following match is an OUTLAWS
RULE MATCH!!

[Huge crowd pop as "Thunderstruck" by AC/DC starts to play over the
loudspeakers.]

Mark Edwards: Making his way towards the ring, from Boston,
Massachusetts, weighing in at two-hundred and thirty pounds... "THUNDER"
CURTIS HANSEN!!

[Fireworks begin to fly as pyrotechnics explode in mid-ring while the
curtain parts and "Thunder" Curtis Hansen steps out. He seems to soak
up the cheers from the crowd as he walks slowly towards the ring. He
leaps up onto the apron and over the top rope to a thunderous ovation,
and raises his arms in the air before taking off his jacket.

JW: Well, folks, we are moments away from what is potentially an awesome
match-up to say the least.

MM: That would be an understatement, Joseph, as we wait for the Outlaw
to make his entrance.

CD: HA! You've *got* to be kidding me! Old "Flailing arms" Taylor and
the master of spandex squaring off, and you're making out that
this'll be some kind of classic?!

Mark Edwards: His opponent...

["My Own Prison" starts up over the loudspeaker.]

Mark Edwards: ...From Tombstone, Arizona... weighing in at two-hundred
and sixty-five pounds... "THE OUTLAW" BOBBY TAYLOR!!

[The fans cheer on Taylor, as he makes his way to the ring, wearing his
Outlaw match, black trunks, a black Stetson hat and cowboy boots.
Taylor seemingly doesn't care about the crowd as he steps into the ring
and removes his hat.]

JW: Well, folks, as you can see, Taylor has that mask on due to the
burns he suffered at EMWC's Blood, Sweat and Tears.

MM: A horrific incident perpetrated by none other than Casey James.
Fans, if you didn't see what happened there, I'd advise you to rent
EMWC's Blood, Sweat and Tears.

**DING DING**

JW: Absolutely. There's the bell and we are underway in this one. A
lock-up in the center of the ring, and I think that'll be the one
and only time we see a clean lock-up in this one as Hansen puts
Taylor in a standing side headlock. He's putting on the pressure
now, as Taylor pulls him back into the ropes. Taylor sends him into
the ropes, and as Hansen comes back off of the other side...
SHOULDERBLOCK! Hansen falls to the mat. Hansen is back up as
Taylor with a big right hand, and again sends him reeling.

MM: This match was more made for Taylor the brawler as opposed to the
technical ability of Curtis Hansen.

JW: Well, Hansens' no slouch in the brawling department either as he's
showing us right here by standing toe-to-toe with Taylor and duking
it out.

MM: Hansen picks up Taylor and drops him down in an inverted atomic
drop. Hansen runs with a quick clothesline and drops Taylor to the
canvas. Hansen drops to the canvas also, and starts laying in the
rights and lefts to Bobby Taylor.

CD: They've run out of steam already!

JW: That certainly is not the case, as Hansen pulls Taylor back up.
Hansen with the irish whip, and a spinning heel kick puts Taylor
right back down on the canvas. Hansen is... LEAVING THE RING?!?

CD: HAHA! He's running away, Worthington! Fear will bring a man to do
some cowardly things!

MM: That isn't the case for Curtis Hansen, as he sets up a table on the
outside of the ring already in this one. I think this'll be over in
a hurry if Hansen has his way.

[Curtis Hansen sets up a table on the outside of the ring, and climbs
back in. Hansen attempts to whip Taylor into the ropes, but it's
reversed, and as Hansen comes back off the ropes towards Taylor, the
Outlaw connects with a big boot. Hansen holds his head as he runs into
Taylor's boot, while Taylor grabs onto Hansen's waist from behind, and
takes him over the top rope with a belly to back suplex, with Hansen
going right through the table.]

JW: OUTLAW'S CURSE THROUGH THE TABLE!! OUTLAW'S CURSE!!

[Hansen lies almost motionless in the mess of the table, as Taylor
starts to come around. Taylor pulls Hansen out of the mess, and hooks
him up for a double-underhook piledriver on the floor.]

MM: Already these two have landed some heavy blows as Taylor looks set
to be putting the icing on the cake now with his old finisher the
Colt .45.

CD: Give them both Colts, Masterson and they can put each other out of
their misery!

[Hansen is quick to realise what is about to happen as he reverses the
piledriver into a backdrop right on the floor.]

JW: What a display of intelligence there by Hansen as he prevents Taylor
from executing what could have been the end of this match.

CD: Intelligence?! I've seen apes with more intelligence than these
guys, Worthington!

MM: They're battling it out on the floor now, as the referee is
powerless to do anything about it. The rules of this match state
that anything goes as Hansen picks up the ringsteps and *dumps* them
right across the back of Bobby Taylor. Hansen goes to whip Taylor
into the guard-rail, but Taylor reverses it and sends Hansen in
hard. Taylor follows up with a headlock... NO... he turns Hansen
all the way around in it and... HANGMAN'S NECKBREAKER!!

JW: How quickly the tide turns as "The Outlaw" Bobby Taylor is back in
control. This has been hard-hitting action folks, right from the
opening bell.

CD: It's been violent nonsense, Worthington! That's what it is!

JW: Without a doubt, but the fans are loving this as Taylor drops his
leg right across the Hansen right there on the concrete floor.

MM: Taylor's really swung this match back into his favour, but allows
Hansen to get to his feet... AND I THINK I'VE SPOKEN TOO SOON!
Hansen with a back heel enzugiri drops Taylor and now he's in
control once again!

JW: Hansen picks up a dazed Taylor and... SIDE BACKBREAKER!

MM: We're just a few minutes into this match, and already both men have
taken quite a beating. Hansen goes up to the ring apron as Taylor
gets back up, and Hansen with an elbow smash to Taylor's head with
authority!

JW: Taylor staggered back a few feet with that one and is collapsed over
the guard-rail. Hansen moves in towards him, but Taylor plants his
boot right into Curtis Hansen's midsection. Taylor now, *smashes*
Hansen's head into the guard-rail, and it's Hansen who's draped over
it.

[Bobby Taylor moves over to the time keeper's table, and pushes the time
keeper out of his chair. Taylor folds the chair and moves back towards
Hansen.]

CD: You might want to mute your TV sets if you don't like the sound of
bones breaking!

JW: That could be true unfortunately, as Taylor swings back with the
chair, and swings towards Hansen...

[***SMAAAAAAAAAAAAACK***]

JW: HANSEN MOVED!! HANSEN MOVED AND TAYLOR HIT NOTHING BUT RAIL!

MM: The pain that just went through Taylor's hands and arms must have
been immense. He hit that rail as hard as he could, and has Hansen
not moved out of the way, this match would be over already.

JW: Hansen kicks Taylor in the stomach and grabs the chair off of him.
Hansen swings at Taylor and *nails* him with the chair!

CD: What's Hansen doing now, Worthington?! He's pulling another table
out from under the ring!

[Hansen sets up the table, and lifts Taylor onto it with great
difficulty. Hanson underhooks both of Taylor's arms and drives him into
the table with a double underhook piledriver, breaking the table clean
in two.]

JW: THUNDERBOMB THROUGH THE TABLE!!

MM: OH MY GOODNESS!! That could be enough as the ref is going to have
to start to administer the ten count...

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

[The crowd start to cheer immensely as they look towards the aisle.
Running towards the ring is "Diamondback" Chris Myers as the ref stops
the count and Hansen looks on in shock.]

CD: What the...?!? Get him the hell out of here!!

JW: MYERS IS OUT HERE!! Myers is out here to help his friend and stable
partner Bobby Taylor.

[Myers runs over to Taylor and checks on him. Unsure of what to do, the
ref looks on as Hansen climbs into the ring and starts arguing with the
ref. Suddenly the crowd stand and look towards the aisle once again.
Running towards the ring are...

.

.

.

"PLAYBOY" RONNIE D

.

.

.

"SHOWSTOPPER" SIMON LEBEC

.

.

.

"DREAMLOVER" TREY PORTER.]

JW: IT'S THE BODYSHOP!! THE BODYSHOP ARE OUT HERE!!

CD: YEAH! Myers should have stayed safely at home, Worthington! He's
going to take a beating for this!

[Ronnie, Porter and Lebec go straight for Myers as they triple team him
with Hansen looking on in the ring.]

JW: This...this is uncalled for...

CD: HAHA! This is *great*, Worthington! Pound away on Myers! Finish
him off!

[As the Body Shop start to do some serious damage to Myers with the
triple-team, Bobby Taylor grabs the folding chair.]

JW: TAYLOR!! BOBBY TAYLOR SWINGS THE CHAIR AT THE BODYSHOP!! TAYLOR
WITH THAT CHAIR IS RUNNING THEM OFF!!

[The Body Shop back away from Myers, avoiding the swinging chair by
Taylor. As they move further back, Taylor moves over to the time
keeper's table and grabs a mic.]

BT: I'm looking around here tonight...and this whole place reeks of
Body Shop. Everytime I turn around, I have to see your ugly faces,
and dammit...I'm sick of it. So, tonight...we're gonna do this
(BLEEP).

[BIG CROWD POP.]

BT: What I want you to do...is you drag your three yellow asses out
here, and get ready to have them kicked all over the damn building.
We're gonna have ourselves an old fashioned six man tag....you
three.....against us three!

[BIG POP.]

[Taylor turns to face Hansen.]

BT: Now ordinarily, I should beat the hell of you for what you've done
to the "Real Deal" lately, but that's for another night. And Kev's
gettin' ready for that Battle Royal...so I guess...for
tonight....looks like we're partners.

[Taylor tosses down the mic.]

JW: FOLKS! What an amazing turn of events! We have an alteration to
our first half of the main event it would seem. Body Shop members,
Trey Porter, Ronnie D, and Simon Lebec will be facing Curtis Hansen
and Cult of Personality members Chris Myers and Bobby Taylor in a
Six Man tag team match!

MM: Unbelievable! Simply unbelievable.

CD: Yeah, unbelievable at how Myers can back out of his match against
the Playboy to hide behind Hansen and Taylor, who've already beaten
the living crap out of each other here tonight. (Sarcastically)
Yeah, that sounds like stable team right there.

JW: Well, whether it is or not, we'll find out later tonight in the
first half of our main event!

MM: What a shock! Porter and Lebec come out, and then the first half of
the main event is changed. The Body Shop versus The Cult. Now
*that's* a match.

JW: Well, folks, much earlier today, Jason Keening called our camera
crew over to Dover where he had some comments to make about his
Night of Glory match.

[The screen dissolves from black to show the top of a grass-covered
cliff, overlooking the English Channel somewhere in the vicinity of
Dover. Seated at the edge of the cliff, his legs dangling over the
chalky heights, is "Screaming Drillbit" Jason Keening. Wearing jeans
and a black "LoC" T-shirt, he has an acoustic guitar in his lap and he
grins as he turns and looks into the camera lens.]

KEENING: You know, I may not have a musical career anymore but I've
found that as a father, my guitar playing abilities are popular
with my kids. As a matter of fact, my son has a particular
favourite which I've... adapted a little bit just for the
"Night of Glory". It goes something like this....

[He reaches into his pocket and takes out a pick which he uses to strum
gently across the strings of the guitar. He then begins to play and
sing "Grinch" by DR. SEUSS although with some of the words modified.]

KEENING: You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch
You really are a heel,
You're as cuddly as a cactus,
You're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch,
You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel!

[As he continues, the lyrics diverge from their original lines.]

KEENING: You're a monster, Mr. Demola,
Your heart's an empty hole,
Your brain is full of spiders,
You have garlic in your soul, Mr. Nick,
I wouldn't touch you with a 39-1/2 foot pole!

[He smiles as he sings, the lyrics modified even further.]

KEENING: You're a foul one, Kashan Akuma,
You have termites in your smile,
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a seasick crocodile, Akuma-san,
Given a choice between the two of you
I'd take the seasick crocodile!

[He winks broadly at the camera and picks up the tempo slightly.]

KEENING: You're a rotter, Alan James,
You're the king of sinful sots,
You're a heart of dead tomato
Washed with moldy purple spots, Alan James,
You're a three decker sauerkrauten toadstool sandwich
With arsenic sauce!

[While he continues to sing and play, the look in his eyes is fierce.]

KEENING: You nauseate me, Frazer Fury,
With a nauseous super knot,
You're a crooked dirty jockey
And you drive a crooked horse, Frazer Fury,
Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most
disgraceful assortment of rubbish imaginable mangled up in
tangled up knots!

[The pace of the song slows as Keening winds it down.]

KEENING: You're a foul one, Nick Demola,
You're a nasty wasty skunk,
Your heart is full of unwashed socks,
Your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Nick,
The three words that best describe you are, and I quote,
"Stink, stank, stunk"!

[With a flourish, he strums the strings in a final chord and chuckles as
the camera pulls back. The scene dissolves to black as "Higher Ground"
by THE RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS begins playing in the background for a
moment before fading away.]

[Cut back to ringside.]

CD: HA! He's right on the money about Alan James there, Worthington!
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 ONE" MATT HARRIS |
| / |/ / __ \/ /___ vs. |
| / /| / /_/ / /_/ / "NO WORRIES" ROB MAGNUM |
| /_/ |_/\____/\____/ |
| "AN EVENING OF STARS" Writer: Carlos Rivera |
|______________________________________________________________|

JW: Folks this next match should indeed be a battle between two tough..

CD: Sons of bitches!!

MM: That could be used in describing them. But what I think Joseph was
aiming for was two tough, stubborn brawlers. Neither man is known
for his "clean" tactics.

CD: Yeah.. they can't learn the finer points of wrestling, so they
resort to brawling. They just aren't in the same league as the "Main
Event."

[A commotion is heard in the crowd as two men make their way to the
announcer's booth. One is a rather large black male, wearing a white
shirt with blue vest over it and black pants. The other man, wears a
"Real Deal" t-shirt and blue jeans. They make their way over to the
announcers.]

JW: What's the meaning of this?

MM: I have no idea. Are we being taken over?

CD: I won't allow the "Main Event" to be upstaged!!

[Douglas stands up and confronts the two men. The "Real Deal" hands a
briefcase to Douglas. Douglas flips it open, shielding it from the crowd
before smirking, closing it up and flashing a smile.]

CD: Okay Worthington and Masterson.. time to get lost. Everyone out of
here.. we have two guys to do the job.

JW: But.. bu..

CD: No buts about it. Let's go..

[The three men exit as the two new announcers sit down and take the
headsets.]

Leroy Jones: Ladies and Gentlemen, I welcome you to a Night of Glory and
the phattest announcer that ever laid down knowledge on a
mic, Leroy Jones.

"Real Deal" Shawn Harrison: And me? I'm the "Real Deal" Shawn Harrison..
the hottest wrestler alive. 242 pounds of
steel and sex appeal, ready to call the
action here tonight between Matt Harris and
that bozo Robbo the Clown.

Jones: Now, now Harrison. We have to be like impartial and stuff. We
have to refer to him as that name his momma gave him.

Harrison: [sighs] "No Worries" Rob Magnum.

Jones: Yes. Not much history in this match but then again, why should we
let that stop having a match?

Harrison: None. As long as we get paid and I flash my beautiful smile.

[Camera pans down to the ring announcer who grabs the mic and raises it
to his lips.]

Mark Edwards: This next match is scheduled for one fall with a 20 minute
time limit.. introducing first...hailing from Detroit, Michigan.. he
stands at 7'1 and weighs in at 360 pounds... he is a former UEW
Television and Ultimate Champion.... here is...

"N O W O R R I E S" R O B M A G N U M !!!

["Halls of Illusions" by The Insane Clown Posse starts up as Magnum
casually walks down to the ring acting nonchalant and worry free as his
tune blasts over the loud speakers. He walks up the stairs and steps
over the top rope to get into the ring. The lights dim and fireworks
come from all corners as he stands in the middle of the ring with his
hands raised above his head. He wears black leather pants with a black
spandex type top and black boots and black cut-off gloves. He wears
sunglass and a black leather vest to the ring with him but takes them
off.]

Jones: A man adorned in the greatest color known to man.. black.

Harrison: Dressed in black or white... Harris will _still_ kick his butt
all over that damn ring and back again.

Jones: Maybe.. maybe not. This Magnum can really put a hurtin on people
at times. We both know that, as we both see him in the UEW quite
often.

Harrison: More than I care to have witnessed.

[Camera pans back to the ring announcer, Mark Edwards.]

Mark Edwards: And his opponent...hailing from New York, New
York...standing at 6'7 and weighing in at 270 pounds... here is a MLWO
legend and Triple Crown Winner...

"T H E O N E"

M A T T

H A R R I S !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

["One Man Army" by The Prodigy and Tom Morello blares over the
loudspeakers]

[The lights dim and multicolored lights illuminate the curtain leading
to the back of the arena and the aisle leading to the ring. The crowd
pops as the colors start to swirl out of control. Matt Harris emerges
from the back, and the crowd gets louder. He stands at the top of the
aisle, fist in the air, soaking in the cheers. He wears shades, a
black windbreaker with red 1s on his sleeves and on the back, black
canvas pants with the word HARRIS in black italics in a red stripe down
his left leg, black wresling shoes with red laces, and black
wristguards. Sydney appears behind him, holding the gold-plated
cheese grater up in the air over her head, and carrying her infamous
black duffel bag. This receives a good pop as well. Syd is dressed in
the same jacket as Matt, with a red midriff halter top and black pleated
skirt underneath, with black shades and pumps.]

[Matt begins to walk down the aisle, slapping hands with the fans, and
even throwing himself headlong into the fans a few times, where they
maul him for a few seconds before he extracts himself. He makes his way
into the ring, stepping through the ropes, and throws off his jacket and
shades as the lights come up.]

Jones: Bad ass. That's one hard brotha.

Harrison: I heard his name used to be Matt Michealson, but he wanted to
have a name similiar to mine so he changed it to Harris.

Jones: I'm sure.

Harrison: Both men in their corners, doing their pregame stuff, trying
to psyche the other one out, but with these two psychos in
there, how well will that work?

Jones: Who knows? But check that Sydney out.

[Harrison stands up and calls her attention by blowing a kiss in her
direction. Harris notices this and starts to yell at Harrison.]

Harrison: Calm down Matty.. woah there, Magnum levels Harris from behind
with a lariat and Harris is down early.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Jones: Magnum stands Harris up and sends him to the corner. Rob grabs
the ropes and connects with a vicious kneelift...and another
one...and another... and one more for good measure.

Harrison: Not my fault, he shoulda kept his eyes on his opponent and
instead of his women. That's the way we do things here in the
wrestling world.

Jones: Magnum grabs Harris by the right arm andan irish whip into the
opposite corner...

Harrison: Harris reverses it....

Jones: But Magnum nails him with a short-arm clothesline!! Harris down
and Magnum with a 360 pound elbow drop on Harris... and an early
cover...

1...

2...

Harrison: Harris kicks out with some authority. It's way too early for
Magnum to be thinking about a win. He needs to prove he can
dismantle Matt Harris the same way he dismanteld Caleb Temple.

Jones: Both men actually hold very good records against Temple and that
seems to have driven them to meet, to see who truly is the better
man.

Harrison: That's fine and dandy but we've got a match to call tough guy.

Jones: Magnum now standing Harris up....Harris with a poke to the eye
and Magnum lets go of his hold on Harris. Harris runs to the
ropes, bounces off and rams his shoulder into Magnum's right
knee.

Harrison: Alright! That's the same knee that one Jeff "Madfox" Matthews,
my buddy, originally hurt one year ago and it's the same knee
that everyone goes after. Harris did his homework.

Jones: Well, Magnum is still standing but favoring the knee just a bit.
Harris charges Magnum again....Magnum with a clothesline
attempt....Harris ducks that...bounces off the ropes....flying
cross body block....

Harrison: MAGNUM CATCHES HIM AND CONNECTS WITH A FALLAWAY SLAM!!!!

Jones: PHAT COUNTER!!

Harrison: Magnum standing up but his knee seems to be weaker than
before. And it's still relatively early in the match.

Jones: And Harris is back up and not seeming too affected by that move.
He's measuring Magnum up...

Harrison: Magnum turns around and is met with a clothesline and Magnum
goes down hard. Harris drops an elbow...

Jones: Magnum moves....Harris back up...Magnum charges.....Harris with a
drop toe hold... keeps the hold and into the STF!!!

Harrison: But Magnum stretches his long ass arms and reaches the ropes
and Harris is being told to break the hold but he won't.

Jones: The ref gets in his face and starts his mandatory five count.

1..

2..

3..

4..

5!!

Harrison: Harris will not release his hold on Magnum's leg and the ref
grabbing Harris and forcing him to let go. And the ref has
forced him to release it!!

[Crowd pop for the referee.]

Jones: Harris back up and the ref getting right in his face warning him
that if he does that crap again, that the ref will have to get
political like Bob Dole and throw his ass outta the match.

Harrison: Magnum meanwhile using the ropes to stand back up...he's
hunched over a little bit by the ropes.

Jones: Harris charges towards Magnum...

[C R A S H]

Harrison: HOLY MOTHER O' GOD!! MAGNUM BACKBODY DROPPED HARRISON ONTO
THE OUTSIDE AND HE _CRASHED_ RIGHT INTO THE CAMERAMAN AT
RINGSIDE!! BOTH OF THOSE MEN ARE OUT!!

Jones: And look at Magnum laughing as he steps through the ropes. He
hops down onto the floor and starts to size Harris up. Magnum
runs and lays a legdrop onto Harris.

Harrison: I don't know if he felt it, he was kinda out of it when he
crashed onto the floor.

Jones: Magnum lifs him up onto his shoulder and walks towards the
guardrailing... and...

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!

Harrison: Magnum drops Harris throat first across the guardrailing and
he's just loving all of it!

Jones: Uh oh.. here comes Sydney and her bag of tricks! She just dumped
the contents of that bag into the ring and she's right behind
Magnum.

Harrison: She's calling him?

Crowd: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Jones: SYDNEY JUST CONNECTED WITH A ROUNDHOUSE KICK TO MAGNUM'S INJURED
KNEE AND HE FELT _ALL_ OF THAT!!!

Harrison: Smithe now makes her way over to Harris and she helps him up.
Harris shaking it off and he's got a crazy look on his face.
Magnum's standing back up.

Jones: Harris jumps back into the ring and grabs a cookie sheet. He
charges towards the rope....

[______TOPE CON HILO______]

Harrison: Doesn't this man know he's 6'7 and weighs 270? WHAT THE HELL
IS HE DOING TRYING TO WRESTLE LIKE ME!?!?

Jones: What's more impressive is that he did it with the cookie sheet
still in his hands and he nailed the suicide dive and the cookie
sheet right onto Magnum.

Harrison: He's a nut!

Jones: He's the man!

Harrison: And "The One" is back on his feet and the crowd is going
absolutely nuts for the nut! He looks at the fallen Magnum and
he jumps back into the ring.

Jones: He seems to be searching for another accessory in his quest for
evilness.

Harrison: Well, Magnum is just now starting to clear his thoughts and
regain his composure.. I suppose.

[POP!]

Jones: Well Harris has found something much to the delight of the fans
and it looks like a golf club to me.

Harrison: Harris slides underneath the bottom rope and gets in his
batter's stance. He winds up and swings...Magnum catches the
club...reels in Harris and catches him with a short-arm
clothesline and Harris goes down.

Jones: Not good for Harris now cuz Robby's got the club and he raises it
high above his head and swings down but?

Harrison: Sydney managed to grab it from him and that did _not_ please
Magnum whatsoever. Would that bozo really hit a woman?

Jones: I dunno, but she besta get a moveon cuz he turned around and he
looks pissed!! Magnum stalking Sydney now.

[POP!]

Harrison: Harris is back up and Magnum don't know it yet. Harris
charging Magnum from behind... Magnum sidesteps and Harris
pulls up before he could hit Sydney. Magnum spins him
around...boot to the gut...

Jones: He's going for the Southern Comfort!!!

Harrison: Harris drops to his knee and drives his head upward into
Magnum's... ewwww!!

Jones: Headbutt to the jewels! He saved himself from the No Worries
Express for a moment.. but how long can he avoid the Southern
Comfort?!

Harrison: Tune in and find out.. same Real Deal time, same Real Deal
channel!

Jones: Magnum covering himself up..trying to relieve some of the pain
just inlicted on him and Harris is walking away?!

Harrison: No.. he's gaining momentum.. he runs and

__BULLDOGS_MAGNUM_ONTO_THE_CONCRETE__!!

Jones: Magnum avoided it!?

Harrison: Yeah.. seems that Magnum managed to get his arms out and avoid
having his face driven into the concrete.

Jones: Has the ref just not even bothered counting these two out?

Harrison: He's been busy cleaning the ring up of the weapons and being
distracted by Sydney. I don't even think he remembers there's
a match going on.

Jones: Both men are up and they're just staring each other down on the
outside. Harris with a right...Magnum with a left...they're
exchanging punches on the outside and the crowd is loving it!!

[POP!]

Harrison: Harris swings a wild left...Magnum ducks it and grabs
him...belly back suplex?

Jones: No! Magnum drives him down into the concrete with a sidewalk
slam! Magnum looks down at Harris and just points and laughs.

Harrison: Yup.. that's the Magnum I know and hate.

Jones: Magnum picks Harris up again onto his shoulder and he rams his
shoulder straight into the steel post. And again...and again..
and again!!

Harrison: And Sydney just noticed what was going on...and she's on the
outside now and grabs onto Magnum's hair and is pulling him
backwards!!

Jones: Magnum drops Harris and turns his attention to Smithe but decides
against doing anything to her. And he drags Harris into the ring.

Harrison: And as quickly as he puts Harris in, he grabs a chair and he
tosses it into the ring. He lays it out...

Jones: Magnum grabs Harris and picks him up....boot to the gut.. Harris
is doubled over...

[POP!]

Harrison: MAGNUM SIGNALLING FOR THE __SOUTHERN COMFORT__

Jones: Magnum flips him up...raises him above the shoulders...HE'S GONNA
SOUTHERN COMFORT HIM ONTO THE CHAIR!!!!

Harrison: WAIT!! HARRIS SLIPS DOWN AND OUT OF THE MOVE AND INTO
A........A........FULL NELSON!!!

Jones: FULL-NELSON INTO A BULLDOG ONTO THE CHAIR!!

___HARRIS SPECIAL___

Harrison: Harris rolls him over...lateral press and leg hook...

1...

2...

3!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mark Edwards: Ladies and gentlemen... your winner at a time of eighteen
minutes and forty seven seconds....

"T H E O N E"

M A T T

H A R R I S !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jones: I like the way you work it Harris.. no diggety no doubt!

Harrison: Harris pulled out a classic win over the seven footer and
former UEW champion. What a match!

Jones: Yes.. Harris proved to be bout it bout it!

Harrison: Well Leroy, I think it's time that you and I stopped gracing
the Night of Glory audience with our hall of fame presence.
Let's be out.

Jones: Word!

[The two men place their headsets on the table and exit as quickly as
they came in. Worthington, Douglas and Masterson return and quickly
retake their positions.]

JW: What in the name of creation was that all about?

CD: What *are* you talking about, Worthington?!

JW: The case. The money. You were paid off, Chris.

CD: HUH?!? I'm calling my lawyers! That was merely a briefcase I left
in the HOWL Towers building while discussing a potential contract
with them. Money you say? What are you on, Worthington?!

JW: Well, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, but I think we all
know the truth. Earlier in the night we saw some dissension between
Magus and Alex Extreme in the locker room, now we have a camera in
Magus' locker room and we're gonna get some words from him
apparently.

[The camera cuts to Magus' locker room. It is disarranged, chairs
knocked over, trash on the floor. Magus stands up against a wall with
his wrestling gear, consistening of a singlet and boots with a pissed
off look.]

MAGUS: My wonderful little partner, Alex Extreme thinks that he can have
all the glory. He thinks that _he_ makes this team what it is,
eh? I'm the veteran, I'm the star power of this team, it really
is that simple. We are facing up against two damn fine wrestlers
and I do not want you, Alex, to try to prove that you're the best
by attempting to do it all yourself. I'm the lead singer, kid,
you're just the guitarist playing in between my words.

I sure as hell don't want our lack of communication if you will.
Excuse me, you're lack of listening, to ruin this match for us.
This is my return to the big time and I refuse to lose it. If you
want to come out of this match victorious, then keep your little
ego in check. I've earned the right to call myself a superstar,
you're earned the right to call yourself a star.

There's difference. You follow my lead, kid. Understand? Good.

Oh, Gabe and Watts ...

LIGHTS OUT!

[The camera cuts away from Magus' locker room and returns to the
announcer's desk.]

JW: Well, folks, as you can see, things exactly lead us to believe that
Extreme and Magus will be a cohesive unit tonight.

CD: (Sarcastically) And why might you make that assumption,
Worthington?!

JW: (Holding his ear-piece) Folks, apparently we have a live feed now
with Alex Extreme from his locker room. Alex? Are you there?

[The camera cuts to Alex's locker room. It too is disarranged, with
chairs knocked over, trash on the floor. Extreme looks up at camera...]

AE: You're damn right I'm here! Mr.Excitement is in the house and
ready for a night of glory as long as I don't have to eat any more
fish and chips or I'm gonna go out there and shove'em up the queen's
ass.

MM: Mr. Extreme, earlier tonight we talked with Magus about your
match and he...

AE: He's a pompous sob is what he is. That guy's older than dirt and
dirts been around a long time. He thinks he's gonna show me a thing
or two? Last time I checked I was the former tag team champion of
the world and not him. If there's anybody who should be taking
charge here tonight in Wembley--its Mr. Excitement.

JW: What about your competition?

AE: What about my competiton? I'll tell you about my competition. If my
competiton were Stonebreaker and Rick Styles or something I might be
worried but these two clowns are gonna get a wrestling lesson
tonight. Whitecross is gonna need the red cross and Watts...who the
hell is Watts? Who cares? I'd probably get a better fight from Magus
and that ain't saying much.

MM: What about the battle royale and your battle royal jinx?

AE: THERE'S ISN'T A JINX. Just because I haven't won one before or that
I've been close and lost doesn't mean I can't win one. Hell the last
time Mr. Excitement was in a battle royale the people left in the
ring when he was still there were Nick Leshnin, Nick Payne, and
Brody Thunder--pretty good company if you ask me. No, I think
tonight I got a good shot no matter who comes into the ring against
Mr.Excitement.

JW: Thanks again Alex.

AE: Hey, no problem.

JW: Well folks, as Extreme and Magus prepare for their match which is up
next...

MM: (Interrupting) WE HAVE TO GO TO THE BACK AGAIN!!

[Camera fades to the back at 30 police officers and security seperate
two angry monsters: Setzer Van Strife and The "Legend" LOCO.]

SVS: I DON'T GIVE A DAMN, LET'S GO NOW!

[Police holds back SVS.]

SVS: COME ON *LEGEND*... LET'S F<BLEEP>IN GO NOW!!

[LOCO waves SVS off.]

LOCO: Tonight I will show you why I am the teacher. Why I am the best in
the world. Your nothing... never was... THE TRUTH HURTS DON'T IT?

[SVS surges foward towards LOCO.]

SVS: Nothing? I'll show you nothing... bring your ass over here.

[SVS breaks free runs and jumps on LOCO and starts pounding him in the
head with fists of fury]

**SMACK**

**SMACK**

**SMACK**

[Finally the crowd of police and security pulls SVS off LOCO. LOCO's
nose seems to be busted wide open and his face is covered in blood.]

SVS: That's just the start LOCO!

[LOCO is pulled to his feet. He wipes the blood from his chin and sticks
his fingers in his mouth to savor the blood.]

LOCO: Now we got a match... now we got a match.

[LOCO shakes his head "Yes" and smiles as the camera cuts back to
ringside.]

JW: Talk about tension mounting right there. Extreme and Magus as well
as LOCO and Setzer Van Strife, all of them seemingly wanting to
start their matches early.
______________________________________________________________
| _ __ ______ |
| / | / /___ / ____/ EXTREME/MAGUS |
| / |/ / __ \/ /___ vs. |
| / /| / /_/ / /_/ / WATTS/WHITECROSS |
| /_/ |_/\____/\____/ |
| "AN EVENING OF STARS" Writer: Steve Tong |
|______________________________________________________________|

MM: Well, if Magus and Extreme want to fight, now their chance, because
up next we have a great tag match for all you to see. It's the
"Iconoclast" Sean Watts and the former EMWC World champion Gabrielle
Whitecross taking on the former AeWF/UEW Television Champion... ALEX
Extreme... And former superstar of the now defunct EWA "MAGUS"!
Joseph, you first which team is your pick to advance to the battle
royal?

JW: Hold on just a second, I have just gotten word that Extreme and
Magus were arguing with each other yet again. Few words were said,
few punches were thrown... But the security cleared the way between
both of them. Anomosity for sure... I was going to pick Magus/and
Extreme as the winners. But now with this "disagreement" it may cost
them their match...

CD: Personally I'll go with Extreme and Magus. I have a feeling Extreme
will lead the way to a victory for the two.

MM: Sean Watts and Gabrielle Whitecross are schedule to come out of the
backstage first...

[As the initial frenetic guitar work of Iggy and the Stooges "Search and
Destroy" begins to play, Sean Watts steps out of the curtains to be
bathed in a swathe of red light. Lank blond hair falls in disarray to
his shoulders, and his stony face is rather expresssionless as he begins
to stride confidently towards the ring, ignoring the fans on his way.
For once his shirt isn't too dishevelled; a brand new white tee with the
SCRA logo plastered on the front, and the words "The World's Forgotten
Boy" scrawled across the back. Beneath the shirt he looks to be wearing
an emerald and black amateur style singlet.]

[Not so far behind comes, Gabrielle Whitecross... His steele blue eyes
catches the camera. The tall build wrestler treads his way toward the
ring without giving a gaze at Watts. The fans are cheering on this
native. Whitecross is wearing black denim jeans, and white boots and a
knee-brace shielding his knee. Heavily band of white tapes around his
wrist. A look of intensity in Whitecross eyes, a look of
determination...]

MM: Whitecross and Watts wants to win the match, but they aren't even
gazing for a second at each other...

["Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen kicks in on the PA system.]

[The crowd explodes as Magus comes charging down the aisle decked out in
nothing but a simple blue singlet, a la Mr. Perfect, with "Magus"
written down both legs. He slaps hands with all the fans as a small
number of fireworks explode and shoot into the air. Magus slides into
the ring and holds his hands in the air in the center of the ring to yet
another surge of cheers.]

JW: Magus is here, but where is his partner??? Alex Extreme?

[The lights go out as "Relax" by Frankie Goes to Hollywood blars from
the arena speakers...spotlights begin flying around the arena in a
circle as they come together focusing on the video wall above the
entranceway...it explodes splitting open as Mr. Excitement Alex Extreme
walks through the fallout from the firework effects as more pryo goes
off and the fans are on their feet. Extreme calmly struts toward the
ringside area flirting with the ringside ladies before he enters the
ring. Extreme is sporting a black suit-jacket with "Mr. Excitement"
embroided on the back in Neon Pink. He is also wearing ray-ban
sunglasses...]

[Extreme goes to the square circle, strutting like a peacock to annoy
Watts, and Whitecross but instead its fustrating Magus... Extreme goes
to the top turnbuckle, raising his hands up in the air, confident as
ever. He flips up and perfects a double flip somersault. Magus has seen
enough he goes over to Extreme in the corner. Magus shoves Alex to the
corner post. Alex is quite shocked at what his partner is doing, he
pushed back Magus. The official seperates both of them...]

MM: Nothing good can come out of a rather disorganized team. Its quite
noticeable that Magus and Alex doesn't share a common liking toward
each other, but can't they just put that aside for just one match...

[Extreme takes off his eye from Magus as he throws his suit-jacket to
the young lady holding the clothes. Extreme is testing the ropes... He
nods. Extreme now is stretching his muscles getting ready for this
match... Now Watts and Whitecross are conversing with each other. They
both nod in agreement.]

*DING*DING*DING*

MM: And we're underway. Watts is the one to start it off for their team.
While Extreme and Magus are arguing on who to start this contest...
Watts is unpatient, he goes right after Magus. Watts whips Magus...
Flying clothesline by the cruiserweight.

JW: This is a well known weakness for Magus. Its been scouted that Magus
isn't too good dealing with cruiserweights. They're ultra quickness
faults Magus into mistakes.

CD: Personally for me, big men, small men, short and fat men, whatever
their size are have never been a problem for "Mr. Main Event". I
still kick their butt senseless.

[Watts holds onto Magus' hair. He sets him up for a atomic drop... Magus
reacts in pain, holding near his crotch. Extreme bellows to Magus to
make the tag, instead he looks away. Watts and Magus grapples, Magus now
has the upper advantage. He pushes Watts away, they grapple again...
Watts is on the disadvantage again. But this time, Watts using his brain
kicks Magus in the abdomen, and knocks a right hand to the face of
Magus. Magus stutters, Watts sends another right, Magus stutters and
falls down...]

MM: Magus has been out of professional wrestling for the most part for 7
months, its likely we'll see some rustiness from this EWA legend.

JW: Watts tags in Gabrielle Whitecross. "The Era of Defiance"
immediately goes to work on Magus. Kneedrop by Whitecross.
Whitecross picks up Magus, a *head-butt* which stumbles Magus. Look
at Extreme he's begging for a tag.

CD: Whitecross is a smart man, well of course he's a brit! But thats
besides the point he is putting Magus in a no-win-zone. Gabrielle is
pitting Magus to the corner ring-post where Watts is resting...

[Gabrielle is creating a diversion to decieve the official. Whitecross
is pulling the official away from Magus, which Watts is capatilizing by
choking the former EWA Quadruple Crown Winner. Extreme is irate he's
coming into the ring. The official notices Extreme's illegal
involvement, the referee pushes Extreme away. Gabrielle runs back to
*their* corner. Now, not only is Watts choking Magus out, Whitecross is
kicking ferociously to Magus stomach. Watts catches the referee turning
back toward their corner. Watts eye-brows to Whitecross that the referee
is going to turn around any second now... Watts and Whitecross ceases
the illegal tactics as the official turns back to the two... Whitecross
sends Magus to the other side of the post where Extreme is... Alex yells
at Magus to tag him in, Magus ignores it. But instead, Extreme slaps the
back of Magus to be legally tagged into the match... The official blocks
in the way of Magus, explaining him that Extreme tagged you... That he's
the odd man out. Extreme is in.]

MM: Extreme is finally in this match. He's ready to rumble. Alex smirks
at Whitecross gesturing him to "get it on". Alex and Whitecross
grapples, Alex is on the advantage, while still grabbing onto each
other... Alex kicked Whitecross in the stomach. "The Era of
Defiance" crouches... A SWINGING NECKBREAKER!!!

JW: What impact! Gabrielle is holding onto his neck... Extreme hits a
kneedrop to Gabrielle's sternum area. Gabrielle is hurt.

CD: Extreme reminds me of somebody... I just can't figure out who. His
style, his traits are so familiar...

[Extreme skips over the helpless prey, Gabrielle Whitecross, he jumps up
to the second ropes flipping backwards he... MISSES a SPRINGBOARD
MOONSAULT!!! WHITECROSS rolled away. Extreme holds onto his stomach...
Whitecross tags in Watts. Watts instead of going to Extreme, he goes
up to the top turnbuckle...SPLIT LEGGED MOONSAULT!!! Extreme is in bad
shape now. Watts caught Extreme perfectly.]

MM: What an amazing move!!! Watts, maybe a cruiserweight but really
isn't known for high-risk manuevers, this is the few seldom times
you'll see Watts going on a top turnbuckle. He beats you by a ground
attack.

JW: Watts is going for the pin...

1.....

2.....

thr--... NO!!! Magus saves the pin... Magus slowly but arrogantly
walks back to his corner.

CD: I like Magus' motive. He'll do anything to win, even cheat. Finally
Magus is listening to his voice for once instead of the fans. For
years he's been listening from the fans demands. "Do the right
thing, it'll advance your career". It did so, but if he _CHANGED_
his *style*, he probably would've gotten more gold, cash, and well
*girls* too...

[Fans are chanting "Slacker"... Raucously... "Slacker"... "SLACKER"...
Watts looks to the fans, a snarled expression crawls up from his face.
Watts tries to disregard the chants, but the noise volume in the arena
is too loud... Watts is concentrating toward the
fans instead of Alex. Whitecross tells Watts to "Look out!!!"... Watts
was rolled behind by Extreme to an inside
cradle.

1....

2....

KICKOUT!]

MM: Look at Watts, he seems dumb-founded but in a sense a tad irate
also.

JW: I suppose he's mad at himself for letting this happen. Watts is hawk
eye he can radar you in, if your ten feet near him at all times. Its
almost impossible to roll up Watts behind the back... Watts is
fustrated... He can never please the American fans, now he can't
even please the British fans...

CD: Extreme just dropkicked him. Watts falls down! Watts and Extreme
springed right back up. There both hesitating, wondering who'll set
the tone for the first move... ITS Extreme... ALEX runs to Watts...
Sean leapfrogged over Extreme... The ropes whips Extreme back, too
late WATTS with a Spin Heel Kick.

MM: OUCH! Extreme puckered up with that one. ALEX is incandescent on the
mat. He just felt some chin *MUSIC*! Magus is pleading for a tag,
but there is nothing he can do... Alex is still kinda winded.

[Watts is going toward Alexs' legs... The "Iconoclast" is yanking
Extreme's legs toward the middle of the ring. Extreme is helpless, as
Watts stomps on Alex groin. Alex is screaming in pain... Sean is locking
Alex into a camels clutch...]

JW: The "Iconoclast" isn't really the greatest submission style
wrestler... This is the few rare times you see him putting on a
chinlock on his opponent. Extreme can't hold much longer...

MM: Wait Magus is coming in, he kicks Watts on the back to stop the
manuever. The official forbids Magus to do any more danger...
Trammell, the ref, escorts Magus back to his corner...

[Meanwhile, Watts picks up Extreme to their corner... Whitecross is
holding onto Extreme so he can't do any harm... While Watts is pounding
lefts and rights to "Mr. Excitement". Still Trammell is explaining to
Magus...]

Ref: [VO:] "The next time you come in this match, without being tagged
you and Extreme will be disqualified, therefore Watts and Whitecross
advances to the battle royal, while you and Extreme leave in
dissapointment... Sonny, do you understand?

[Magus nods. But both the official and the Magus still does not realize
that Extreme is getting beat up, illegally. The official, finally,
towards his head back to the match, too late Watts and Whitecross
already done the necessary. Extreme is down near the ropes. Watts takes
the pin...

1....

2....

Thre- NO!]

MM: Extreme puts his right leg hanging on the first rope. The count was
almost to close to call, but Extreme legitimately kicked out at the
last second.

JW: It was pretty close, even I doubt the Trammell's call...

CD: The over-weighted lubber who calls himself a "ref'" should've ended
this match now. I'm bored out of my mind, watching this so call
"contest".

MM: I'll agree, Chris. This match is rather slow-paced, I'm a
lucha-libre fan so that doesn't help either.

[Watts brings the former UEW television champion back up, WAIT! Extreme
out of nowhere sends Watts flying with a jawbreaker. Watts is
shakened... But he charges at Extreme... Extreme with a drop-toe hold.
Extreme is up, leaving no time for the enraged Watts to come forth
again. Watts misses his target again, however Extreme whips backed
the wild Watts into a...]

JW: A MICHINOKU DRIVER!!! A MICHINOKU DRIVER!!!

CD: Is this the first "decent" wrestling move we've seen in the match?

MM: Extreme with the cover. This got to be over now...

1....

2....

THR--.... Watts just kicked out in time. Just a fraction of a
second, away from leaving "Night of Glory" with a loss.

[Extreme is yanking Watts lanked blond hair, to their corner. Extreme
tags in Magus, vehemently. Magus gauks at Extreme to a stare down. Magus
cold pale eyes turns to Watts... Extreme eyes in a gesture to Magus...
Magus goes up to the top turnbuckle, while Extreme is placing Watts legs
to Extremes neck. Extreme's gotten the dazed SCRA superstar up top...]

JW: Extreme and Magus finally co-existing with each other, but what are
they trying to do, right now?

[[[[[[[[[[DDDDDDOOOOOOOSSSSSSHHHH]]]]]]]]]]

MM: TOP ROPE DDT!!! OH MY GOODNESS!!! A TOP ROPE DDT! Its been a long
time that i've seen those perfected...

CD: Watts, take it from me, I experienced one of those before, heh buy
some *Blue Star* ointments it'll clear the problem away... Your just
in luck also, because theres a bodega store behind us, give them a
few pounds and you got yourself a healer. Trust me on this.

JW: Thats a first.

MM: Magus is going for the cover.

1....

2....

Th--- NO Watts kicks out. You know people under-estimate The
"Iconoclast" too much, he's a great mat-wrestler a smart one also...
Plus the fact he was trained by the devious villain, his father "Sir
Wrestling". Not to mention he's only one of few that can brag about
pinning Tiger Claw on the canvas for the three count.

He's been enduring brutal punishment for the last 10 minutes, and
all the fans are doing is "booing" him...

[Watts tries to crawl rapidly to Whitecross, though Magus is on his
tail. Magus stops Watts three fourths on his way to home. Magus picks
him up... A snap suplex, Magus picks up Sean again... TILT A WHIRL
SUPLEX INTO a backbreaker... Watts grimaces...]

CD: Heh, Whitecross -- like I said before -- is a smart man. He lets his
partner do all the work, while he stands there gawking at his
partner. What are mates for?

[Douglas chuckles.]

JW: The TILT a whirl Suplex to a backbreaker, one of Magus' finest
inventions...

[Magus lets Watts recover for some unknown reason... Watts looks at
Magus he doesn't believe what Magus is doing. Magus points his hands to
Gabrielle Whitecross... Watts gazes at Whitecross, then at Magus with
amazment again. Before not to long, Watts tags in Whitecross. Magus
smirks to Gabrielle.]

MM: Look at that smirk from Magus. He's hungry to take on Whitecross.
They lock up. Magus takes Whitecross down with a sweep kick... Magus
quickly lays a elbow drop, however he misses as Whitecross escapes.
Whitecross grabs Magus head into a head-lock... Gabrielle gives some
space for Magus to work his way up... Magus and Whitecross are up.
Magus using his arms locking up Whitecross waists lifts up
Whitecross in the air... And backwards for a suplex!

[Magus doesn't go for the cover.]

[Whitecross comes back up, running to Magus. Magus drops him over with a
arm drag takedown. Magus isn't letting go of the left arm. Instead he's
applying a armbar... Though nothing is coming out good for that, Magus
drags Whitecross left arm toward Extreme's corner. Magus tags in,
Extreme. Alex is going up top on the top turnbuckle...]

JW: Magus while still holding on Whitecross left arm... EXTREME DOUBLE
AX-Handles Whitecross left hand... Menacingly, Extreme starts to
savate kicking Whitecross arm, as Magus goes back to his corner.

[Extreme viciously throws Whitecross to the corner ring post. Extreme is
giving jabs, lefts. Whitecross falls down after taking several blows to
the head. Extreme kicks at Whitecross in the chest area, since its
legal, Trammell warns him to cease it. Extreme nods. By that time "The
Era of Defiance" already took the liberty of reclaiming his strength...]

CD: Extreme walks right back of Whitecross, he TWIRLS Gabrielle
around... NO! EYE-GOUGE by the EMWC North American Champion.
Whitecross, violently, kicks Extreme in the stomach...

JW: I believe Whitecross is going for the TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER!!!

{{{{{{{{{{{{TTHHWWWWWAAACCCCKKKKKKK}}}}}}}}}}}}

MM: With all the strength left in Whitecross tank, not only does he
TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVED, Extreme he SPLIT LEGGED his motion! What
sudden impact onto "Mr. Excitement". Thank goodness I'm not in
Alex's shoes...

JW: That was just astonishing, just when you think it was all over for
"The Era of Defiance" he proves all three of us, wrong.

CD: I would like you to reprhase that, Worthington. You see, I never
doubted Whitecross for a split-second. He's a brit, I have pride and
upmost respect for Brit' wrestlers... You two faulted Whitecross, so
get your story straight.

[Whitecross is not looking to pin Extreme... He is going to the
"Iconoclast" for a tag. WATTS is wiggling his hand reaching as far as he
can for a tag... -- Extreme is still down --... Whitecross crawling by
his knee's is gaining closer...and closer... WHITECROSS..............
TAGS IN SEAN WATTS... Extreme is in deep trouble now.]

MM: Watts can only do worse of the condition Alex Extreme is in...

JW: Sean picks up Extreme... The "Iconoclast" is hooking EXTREME up
for..... GOOD LORD!!! A FISHERMAN SUPLEX!!!

CD: You idiot, he calls it the Seattle Suplex, not the FISHERMAN SUPLEX!
Go by that name, because it's by Watts order that you do. And second
simply because that name sounds way better then a....
[Sarcastically] *FISHERMAN* SUPLEX.

1....

Call it a night, Extreme...

2....

Take a shower, Extreme...

And

THRE-

EXTREME KICKED OUT!!! HE KICKED OUT??? NOOOOO!!! THAT WASN'T SUPPOSE
TO HAPPEN!!!

[Watts slaps the mat in disgust... A shock chills up in his spine, he is
going ballistic. The fans are booing at him again. One youngster threw
a soft drink soda cup at him. Watts spots the kid... Meanwhile, Extreme
is gaining conscious... Watts lashes out at the kid, pointing at him,
delivering lewd gestures specifically to him. Whitecross is yelling at
Watts {trying to make him notice, Extreme is up...} EXTREME IS UP!
Closing on Watts back... He delivers a GERMAN SUPLEX BRIDGE!!!!!!!!]

MM: Alex creates a picture-esqe German Suplex, Watts neck hooking under
a bridge.

1....

and the winners of this match...

2....

MAGUS and...

THR-- WHITECROSS stepped in, he stopped the count... EXTREME and
MAGUS could've won... MAGUS is beyond himself he just jumped into
the pack also. Magus tackles Whitecross to the floor. He is beating
him senseless, Whitecross isn't retaliating.

JW: WATTS IS STILL OUT COLD!!! But whats interesting is, Extreme is
walking to Magus and Whitecross. EXTREME JUST SHOVED Magus away from
WHITECROSS???!!! WHATS he doing? Trying to create more turmoil
between them already??? Magus shoves Extreme back... EXTREME is
saying something to Magus... Magus is hesitating... WAIT!!! He nods
in acknoledgement on EXTREME's sayings.

[EXTREME walks away from Magus... Magus goes back to his corner...
Whitecross rolls back to his side... Watts is hurt using his hands to
support his aching neck... Extreme obviously shows no sympathy as he
grabs WATTS neck, drives his head for a "BULLDOG". Extreme isn't going
for the pin though... He's going to the top turnbuckle...]

{{{{{{{{{{{GOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHHHH}}}}}}}}}}}

MM: FOUR FIFTY CORKSCREW MOONSAULT! MY GOD!!! MY GOD!!! WHAT IN???!!!
Extreme isn't going to call it a night.

1....

It was a see-saw battle, but Extreme and Magus got the better of the
two, tonight...

2....

WHAT THE???!!! EXTREME pulls away from Watts, he looks at Magus in
the corner... Extreme grins toward Magus...

[Douglas interrupts.]

CD: HE JUST TAGGED IN MAGUS!!!!!! HE JUST TAGGED IN MAGUS!!!!! EXTREME
runs to Whitecross and nails him with a Ax handle... Whitecross
falls out of the ring.

[Worthington interrupts.]

JW: MAGUS goes for the pin...

1....

2....

3....

MAGUS AND "MR. EXCITEMENT" ALEX EXTREME WINS!!!

["Relax" by Frankie goes to Hollywood stirs as Alex and Magus circles
around the ring, hoisting their hands in the air, as they win the tag
match... Soon they meet each other in the middle of the ring. A stare
down begins... Extreme puts his hands for a shake... Magus hesitates at
first, but then shakes it... The crowd are loving it. Cheers runs from
all over the arena.]

MM: Lets give credit where credit is due. All of us, and yes including
you Chris, questioned Magus and Extreme's relationship. But they got
it together and took the win. Whatta match.

JW: They had all odds against them, and what do they do put some evens
back in the deal.

CD: Besides the 450 Splash, I came to one conclusion to describe this
bout... BORING!!! BORING!!! and BORING!!! I just hope our next match
isn't as much of a boredom as this tag match...

MM: You didn't seem too bored by them, by your expressions at the end of
the match, but anyway let's get to the locker room area where
"Cowboy" Ken Curtis stands by with some comments as he gets set for
his match.

[Cut to the locker room area.]

["Cowboy" Ken Curtis stands in front of a row of lockers, clad in street
clothes. His hat is pulled low and his cigarillo is unlit...]

CKC: "Well, boys, we're gittin' down t' the nut-cuttin', ain' we?
It ain' but a few more minutes b'fore we git in that ring an' throw
down. I hope y'all got all yer damned ducks in a row, 'cause in
just a few, the Cowboy is bringin' hell by the bucket t' that ring,
an' when I git done with ya, ya jus' might be takin' that little
stretcher ride down t' the boneyard, ya know what I mean?"

[Curtis smiles wickedly as he strikes a match and lights his smoke.
Suddenly, a locker-room attendent approaches Curtis...]

MAN: "Excuse me, sir, you can't smoke in here."

CKC: "Son, don' tell me where I can an' cannot smoke. Hell, I'm
grown."

MAN: "I'm sorry sir, it's building regulation."

[Curtis reaches out and grabs the man by the lapels, jerking his face
close to the smoldering end of the cigar...]

CKC: "You can take yer regulation an' stick it up yer ass, son. An' if
ya don' git out o' my face up in here, yer head ain' gonna be too
far behind it!"

[Curtis releases the man, who scrambles away...]

CKC: "Now, where was I? Oh yeah, James an' De Sade. I guess there ain'
too much more t' say, ladies. There ain' nothin' left t' do except
watch that clock, say yer damned prayers, an' then walk that aisle.
'Cause t'night, we dance..."

[Curtis smiles wickedly...]

CKC: "... an' I don' think you boys are gonna like the band."

[Fade to ringside.]

CD: YEAH! You tell that attendant, Ken! Who made that stupid no
smoking rule anyway?!?

JW: I believe it was you.

CD: Oh.
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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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
______________________________________________________________
| _ __ ______ |
| / | / /___ / ____/ |
| / |/ / __ \/ /___ CURTIS vs. DE SADE vs. JAMES |
| / /| / /_/ / /_/ / THREE-WAY ELIMINATION MATCH |
| /_/ |_/\____/\____/ |
| "AN EVENING OF STARS" Writer: Daniel Rushing |
|______________________________________________________________|

[Ding, ding, ding]

ME: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest has been set for
a triple threat elimination style match. The stipulations
are as follows: All three men will be inside the ring at the
same time, and the last man standing will be declared the
winner. There is a thirty minute time limit.

Introducing, first, being accompanied to the ring by Brian
Lau, weighing in at 320 pounds, and hailing from Washington,
D.C., ladies and gentlemen. . .

["Foul Taste of Freedom" by Pro-Pain begins to play just as the
announcer is about half way through the introduction. As Gary
Meskil screams "Woah, ALRIGHT!", the song kicks in, and James
makes his appearance at the head of the aisle.]

Here's Casey "Blackheart" Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaames!!!

[James, clad in black, full-length wrestling tights, boots,
arm pads, and forearm gaurds, begins walking down to ringside,
the crowd booing every minute.]

JW: James sure does wear a lot of black.

CD: No, really? How did you ever come to that conclusion?

JW: Well. . .

[James continues to walk down the rampway, raising his hands in
the air, and taunting the crowd, who respond with a solid heel pop.
Once in the ring, James begins pulling on the ropes, stretching
out before the match.]

JW: It appears as if James is ready to get this match started.
Fans, I'm telling you, this is going to be a great match.

CD: Of course it is, I wouldn't have booked it if it wasn't.

ME: And now. . .

[The arena houselights gradually dim, then plunge into pitch dark
entirely in a sudden crash. As the piercing riffs of "Smoke on the
Water" by Deep Purple reverberate against the arena walls, a single,
electric-blue spotlight lances down on the entrance. As two brilliant
white flames arise up on either side of the entrance way, Ethan de
Sade strides into view from behind the connecting curtain to the
back, the house lights turned back up to full in a blinding flare.]

ME: Making his way to ringside at this time, weighing in at 247
pounds and hailing from Santa Cruz, California, ladies and
gentlemen, ETHAN de SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADEEEEEEE!

[Ethan patiently stalks to the ring, seemingly unaware of the fans,
the camera, or any other object in existence, except for the ring and
Casey "Blackheart" James. James, on the far end of the ring, beckons
for Sade to get in the ring. Sade, showing no facial expression,
begins realigning his elbow pads as he ascends the blue ring steps.]

CD: Go ahead, Ethan. Don't worry about a thing. You'll get to the
battle royal later on tonight.

JW: It seems as if you're going to be siding with Ethan during this
match, Chris.

CD: Of course. He's my good friend.

MM: Well, the rumours suggest that he's more than that.

CD: Please, let's *not* speak on the rumours at this time, because
I've heard stuff about you, Mike.

[As Ethan climbs into the ring, James has to be restrained by the
referee from going after Sade. Sade nonchalantly begins to stretch
out, awaiting "Cowboy" Ken Curtis.]

JW: One more man, and then this match starts, wrestling fans.

CD: Ethan'll pull it out.

["Gimme Back My Bullets" by Lynyrd Skynyrd begins to blast over the
PA system as "Cowboy" Ken Curtis steps through the curtains of this
massive stadium.]

ME: And the final entrant of this contest, weighing in at 265 pounds
and hailing from Dripping Springs, Texas, ladies and gentlemen,
"Cowboy" Ken Cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurtiiiiis!!!

[Curtis, decked out in black, full-length wrestling tights and
cowboy-styled wrestling boots, begins a slow bouncing jog to
ringside, beginning to take off his black vest and flat-crowned
cowboy hat as he speeds his jog up.]

CD: Curtis is also ready for this match. Everyone knows that he
wants James, so he's about to get James right now.

[The ref, still trying to hold James back, is unable to do so
anymore. James breaks from his clutches and attacks Ethan de
Sade on the spot.]

[Ding, ding, ding.]

CD: And we're off. Ken Curtis is still skipping down to ringside.

JW: That's not a skip, that's a bounce.

CD: What? I know a skip when I see one, and that's a skip.

MM: Guys?

JW: What?

MM: The match.

[James sends rapid-fire fists to the head of James, but Curtis
quickly slides into the ring. Once Curtis gets to his feet,
he's able to pull James off of Sade and nail him with a big
right hand, staggering the big man back a few feet. Curtis
now turns around and rebounds himself from the ropes and takes
James down with a big flying larriet.]

JW: And Ken Curtis has come out here with one thing in mind:
Take Casey James out.

CD: And so far, that has worked to perfection.

MM: Too early in the match to tell, Chris.

CD: Not if you're perfect like me.

[Now Curtis gets ontop of James and begins nailing him with
quick rights and lefts, not stopping. James uses all of his
disqualification counts before finally getting of James.
Curtis snaps James up to his feet, but James quickly sends a
thumb into the eye, staggering Curtis back. The ref warns
James about those illegal tactics, but James ignores and
takes Curtis down with a big larriet.]

MM: Worked to perfection, eh?

CD: Shut up, Mike.

[James quickly stands Curtis up and whips him into the
ropes. Curtis comes off the rebound, but Ethan comes
from behind James and nails him in the back with a big
drop kick, falling right into the clutches of Curtis,
who puts him into a front face lock, eventually sending
him to the ground with a big DDT.]

MM: Good Lord. That was a big move by Ken Curtis.

CD: Yeah, but who set it up? Yep, Sade set him up.

JW: Is anyone thinking what I'm thinking?

CD: No, our minds aren't in the gutter, Joseph.

[Curtis flips James over onto his back and then sends
a big knee drop to the head of James, making him use
his hands to cover his face. Curtis now pulls James
up to his feet, yanking him up by his long, blonde
hair. Curtis now puts his hands on James' back and
begins hitting him with painful short-arm knee lifts,
forcing James into the knee of Curtis.]

CD: That looks like it hurts.

JW: I'm sure it feels worse.

CD: Has that ever been done to you, Joseph?

JW: Well. . .

CD: Then you don't know.

[Mike Masterson begins to laugh.

Now, Curtis takes James over with a hip toss, dropping
to the ground and covering James, while Ethan de Sade
just looks on.

1. . .

2. . .

MM: James with a huge kickout. He sent Curtis all the
way into Ethan de Sade. Man, James is one powerful
man.

JW: Folks, we want to remind you stay with us the whole
night, as you don't want to miss one second of this
huge event. We've already had a lot of things happen
during this wrestling spectacle, and who knows what
could happen in the Winners Battle Royal.

[Curtis now begins hitting James with rapid-fire right
hands, once again having to use up all of his disqualification
seconds up before getting off of him.]

MM: How come you didn't make this a no disqualification
match, Chris?

CD: Because I didn't feel like it.

JW: I must agree with Mike, it would have been more of an
interesting match.

[Curtis now stands James up and tosses him to the outside
of the ring. The ref quickly begins counting both men out
as Curtis steps through the ropes to the outside, but Ethan
de Sade comes from behind the ref and begins complaining of
an injury.]

CD: What's wrong, Ethan? Damnit, get some EMTs out here
right now. Ethan's hurt, and he's hurt badly.

JW: Please. He's not hurt, he's just giving Ken Curtis some
time on the outside. It appears that Ethan and Curtis
are in--

MM: OOOOOH!!!

[Just a second ago, Curtis took James and whipped him hard
into the ring steps, head first. The ring steps dichotomised
as James went into them hard with his head and shoulders. The
ringside fans give Curtis a big hard-core pop as he goes and
stands James up. He throws James into yet another front face
lock, and appears as if he's going for a suplex onto the outside
mat, but James' power prevails in this attempt. Curtis tries
for another suplex, but James reverses it and sends Curtis into
the ring barrier with a big suplex.]

JW: CHRIST!!! Curtis slammed onto the top of the ring barrier
right behind the knee caps. He could be seriously hurt.

CD: The more the better. . .

[Joseph looks at Chris.]

CD: For the fans, that is.

JW: Uh huh.

[Casey James stands up, throwing his hands up into the air.
He's quickly taken off his feet, however, as Ethan de Sade,
from inside the ring, hits him with a big baseball slide
kick, slamming James side first into the ring barrier.]

CD: Woohoo! Ethan's alright.

JW: He was never hurt.

CD: *YOU*, Joseph, have no idea what it feels like to be
inside that ring, so you have no right to say when or
if somebody's hurt.

JW: Nothing happened to him, so he isn't hurt, and that's
my final word.

[Sade now hops out of the ring and slams right onto the
back of James, who's held up by the arms on the ring
barrier, with a double axehandle smash, sending James
down the ring barrier and down onto the outside mat.
Sade now stands James up and rolls him into the ring,
not even concentrating on Curtis. Sade now covers
James inside the ring.

1. . .

2. . .

CD: C'mon, ref. That was a slow count. I grew a gray
hair during that count.

JW: I'm sure you did, Chris.

[Sade complains to the referee about a slow count, but
the ref pleads his case. Sade now puts James into a
reverse chin lock, slowing the match down a bit.]

JW: I'm not so sure that you want to put the big man
into a hold like that. James is almost one hundred
pounds bigger than Sade, making it quite easy to
break out of the hold if he so desires.

CD: Please, let's not underestimate the heart and the
determination of Ethan de Sade. He knows how to
get it done inside the ring, so he isn't worried
about the size nor the strength of James.

[After a few moments of being knocked out, Ken Curtis
is now revived outside of the ring, getting up and
realising that the match is now inside the ring.

Inside the ring, however, Sade now lets go of the
reverse chin lock, and sends a boot into the lower
neck of James. Sade now stands Casey James up
and attempts to whip him into the ropes, but James
easily reverses that. Sade comes off the rebound
and James powerfully sends him to the mat with a
big shoulder charge.]

CD: Damnit.

JW: It seems as if James' power and strength came
through on *that* on, Chris.

MM: Sure did. James slammed to the mat like he
hit a concrete wall. There was no escaping
the power of Casey James on that one, and
you have to believe that, Chris.

CD: I do?

[James quickly stands Ethan de Sade up and hits
him with a massive chop, sending Sade back against
the turnbuckles. James now runs a short distance
to the corner and nails Sade with a big splash,
flattening the smaller man between James' chest
and the turnbuckles. James now takes Sade's hand
and sends him across the ring, slamming him hard
against the turnbuckles, making him stagger a few
feet. James meets Sade into the centre of the ring
and sends him to the mat with a big power slam,
hooking the leg for the pin.

1. . .

2. . .

JW: What in the world? "Cowboy" Ken Curtis came in
and pulled Casey James off of Ethan de Sade. It
now appears that Ethan de Sade adn Ken Curtis are
in---

CD: Great job, Curtis.

MM: Sade was about a split second away from being
eliminated early in this matchup.

CD: Even if Curtis hadn't come in adn made the save,
Ethan would have gotten the shoulder up. Ethan
packs a lot of heart, and that'll be all he needs
against these two men.

[James stands up and quickly turns around to stand
face to face against Curtis. James begins berating
Curtis with words that can't be used on a TV 14
level. Curtis, though, shows no expression as
Ethan de Sade comes from behind him and rolls him
up with an inside cradle.

1. . .

2. . .

CD: DAMN. C'mon, ref. What in the hell is your
problem tonight. Do you really want your
paycheck, or are you *that* wealthy?

JW: That's it. I'm pretty sure that Ken Curtis
and Ethan de Sade are in---

MM: This has been a great match. Though there
hasn't been any blood, this has been a brutal
match thus far. And we're only ten minutes
into the match.

CD: We've got a long way to before Ethan de Sade
wins the match.

[James uses all his power to kick out of that
pinfall attempt, sending Ethan all the way into
the ropes. Curtis, however, has had enough.
Curtis runs over to James, who's sitting on the
ground staring at Ethan, and kicks him in the
back with a kick that sends vibrations all
throughout Wembely Stadium.]

CD: WHOOOOOAH!!! Now *that* hurts.

[James' back curves up as the pain of the
kick sends pain all throughout his back.
Curtis stands James up and begins firing
away right rights and lefts. After he
knocks him into the corner, Curtis sends
James back towards the centre of the ring
with a big belly to belly side suplex.]

JW: And the big man sends the bigger man
down to the mat with a big belly to
belly suplex.

CD: Curtis used a lot of power with that
belly to belly suplex. He's got a
lot of anger directed towards James.

MM: He sure does, and he has to be happy
that Ethan de Sade isn't intefering
too much in that anger.

JW: Yeah, but it seems as if Ethan de
Sade and Ken Curtis are in--

CD: Mike, where'd you get that hot dog?
You haven't been sneaking food in here
have you?

MM: Uh, no. See what happened was that vendor
guy asked me if I wanted some earlier, and
I bought it. I'm just now eating it. I'm
sorry, man, but I'm hungry.

CD: Well, I guess you wouldn't mind if I bring out
the Coke I ordered before the show started, because
all of this screaming has my throat parched.

[Curtis now begins pounding away with rights and lefts
once again on James. Curtis now snatches James up and
whips him into the ropes. James comes off the rebound
and Curtis kicks him into the gut, and throws him into
a standing head scissors.]

CD: I smell a power bomb!

MM: This is going to be brutal.

[Curtis lifts James up, but as James comes over Curtis'
head, he begins nailing Curtis with rapid-fire rights,
trying to knock Curtis down. Curtis begins staggering
back and losing his balance, and right as Curtis falls
down, Ethan de Sade comes and takes James off of Curtis'
shoulders with a *tremendous* spinning heel kick.]

JW: WHAT A MOVE, WHAT A MOVE, WHAT A MOVE!!! THE
CARNAGE!!!

CD: Chill out, Joseph. I think you're getting a case
of that Jim Rossitis. It's been going around and
just *killing* announcers. It's a horrible thing
to have, Joseph.

MM: [laughing] Haha!

[Sade quickly hooks the right leg of Casey James, trying
to eliminate him.

1. . .

2. . .

MM: Mmmmmmmmm. . . not just yet. Casey James was completely
taken by surprise with that spinning heel kick. It's no
wonder he could only get a shoulder up.

CD: It's because Ethan de Sade is a great wrestler.

JW: All of them are, Chris.

CD: True, but Sade's just a tad bit better.

[Sade struggles, but he's able to stand James upright. Sade
hits James with a big chop, staggering him back into the
ropes. Sade picks the three hundred pounder up and slams
him on his back with a big body slam. Sade then hops up
onto the top turnbuckle, perched and waiting for James to
get up.]

CD: Me being the smater Englishman that I am, I'm thinking
that he's going to hit Mr. James with a missile drop
kick.

JW: Well, it could be a hurricarana, Chris.

CD: Yeah, it *could* be, couldn't it?

[Right when James gets up, he turns around and is taken
down by a big missile drop, sending him slamming back down
to the canvass. Ethan goes to pin him again, but Curtis,
however, goes and stands James up. He takes James' arm
and goes to whip him into the ropes, but James reverses it
easily. Curtis comes off the rebound and takes Curtis down
with a big flying shoulder block.]

CD: The big man got up in the air that time. Once he got up
in the air, Curtis could do nothing but respect that
decision.

JW: Folks, we're seeing nothing but great wrestling action
here in this match.

CD: How many times are you going to say that, Joey?

[James, however, doesn't go after Curtis, but chooses to
go after Sade who had been watching pretty much. Both
men go to lock up, but James quickly sends three knees
into the chest of Sade, eventually whipping him into the
ropes. Sade comes off the rebound and James sends him
up and over with a big back body drop. James, wasting
no time, quickly stands Sade up and throws him out of
the ring.]

JW: Here we go, wrestling fans, outside of the ring.
This is where we find out who the toughest of the
three is.

CD: I don't think so. Sade didn't even have the advantage
when he was thrown outside. While Casey James might be
a formidable opponent, Sade would be able to go the
rounds with him had he had the advantage.

MM: Interesting point there, Chris.

[James takes the head of Sade and slams it into the ring
barrier, a few of the fans having to back up. James now
picks Sade up, and rams his back right into the steel
pole.]

JW: These guys might want to heed the referee's warning,
because if both of these men are eliminated, the winner
would be "Cowboy" Ken Curtis.

CD: Oh, and would *that* be a fan favorite thing.

MM: It sure wouldn't. The fans just don't like the big man,
Curtis.

[After about a seven count, James takes Sade and rolls him
into the ring, where Ken Curtis is anxious for some action.
Curtis stands Sade up and throws him into a standing head
scissors. The fans give a huge pop, as they are expecting
a powerbomb, but Casey James ends all the popping as he
nails Curtis with a huge larriet.]

JW: Lord have mercy! He almost took that man's head off!
What in the world? Why didn't James just let him powerbomb
him?

CD: James wants Curtis, and that's all there is to it. It doesn't
matter if Curtis was about to powerbomb the devil, he still
would have gotten clotheslined by Casey James.

MM: Great analogy, Chris.

CD: Uh, okay.

[James quickly gets ontop of Curtis and begins delivering
rights and lefts again. After all his disqualification
time is up, James yanks Curtis up and throws him into a
standing head scissors. Another big pop follows as James
lifts Curtis high up into the air, and slams him back down
on his back with a big powerbomb!]

JW: Great powerbomb by Casey James! The fans went totally
nuts.

CD: Yes, the powerbomb is a well-respected move in professional
wrestling, but it only hurts if you do it right.

MM: Did James do it right?

CD: Not as good as I could.

[James quickly covers Curtis.

1. . .

2. . .

MM: And Ethan de Sade interferes yet again! What in the world
is going between these three wrestlers?

JW: I tried to tell you guys. It appears that Ethan de Sade
and "Cowboy" Ken Curtis are in--

CD: You know, this has been a long match, and there still
hasn't been an elimination. This is what the Night of
Glory is all about. Competition!

[Casey James rockets to his feet and plants both hands squarely
into the chest of Ethan de Sade's chest, sending him back into
the turnbuckles. James fires into the corner, lifting his knee,
and sending it straight into the chest of Sade. Sade doubles
over in pain, but James keeps driving the knee into Sade.
James then picks Sade up and places him on the top rope, but
turns him around so that he's facing out.]

CD: Uh oh. Ethan??? Wake up!

JW: What's wrong? Oh!

[The crowd's noise level rises as James sets Sade up in an
inverted front face lock. With his free hand, James throws
a hand in the air, signalling for the Syndi-Cutter! A huge
pop proceeds as James stands up on the middle turnbuckle,
and falls back, letting de Sade's jaw fall over his shoulder,
eventually nailing him with a stunner-like move.]

JW: LORD! Listen to the crowd!

MM: They totally marked out for the move!

CD: Shut up! Ethan might be hurt.

JW: Casey James with the cover! This one's all over, folks!

1. . .

2. . .

CD: YEEEEEEEEEEES!!! Ken Curtis with the interference! And
Ethan's still in the match!

JW: I don't believe this. At this rate, the match will never
end.

CD: Well, that would mean that Ethan wouldn't lose!

[Curtis pulls James up to his feet, but James pushes Curtis off
of him. Curtis goes for a right, but James blocks it with his
left, and sends a big right to the head of Curtis, staggering
the big man back. James now takes Curtis' hand and whips him
into the corner, but the ref inadvertently gets in the way, and
it slammed in between the back of Curtis and the turnbuckles.]

CD: Dumb ref! Why do the referee always get in the way?

JW: That might prove vital in the outcome of this match.

[James wraps Curtis up in a waist lock, and then takes him up
and over with an overhead belly to belly suplex, receiving a
huge pop from the crowd. James quickly turns around to see that
Curtis is on the ground. James gets onto his knees and begins
sending more rapid-fire fists onto the head of Curtis.]

JW: Oh man! He's punching so fast, I can't even see his fists.

CD: Let's not exaggerate here, Joe.

JW: It's Joseph!

CD: Okay, okay, okay. I was just playing, Joey.

[James pulls Curtis back up to his feet and goes for the Blackheart
Punch, but Ethan de Sade is somehow able to reach up and pull James'
arm back so that Curtis is able to reach down into his boots and
pulls out a pair of brass knuckles. James, still fighting for the
use of his arm with Ethan de Sade, doesn't see Curtis equip himself.
Right when James turns around. . .

SMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKUP!

Huge pop as James falls to the ground. Curtis throws the brass
knuckles over near the turnbuckles, and Ethan de Sade drops down
to cover James.]

JW: Lord have mercy! He didn't even see it coming! I told you
guys that Ethan and Curtis were in cahoots!

CD: When did you say that?

JW: [sighs]

CD: Get up, ref! Yes! He's waking up! He's going to make the
count!

[The ref slowly regains conciousness and sees that Ethan De Sade
is covering James. And in a WWF pay-per-view main event-like
situation, the ref makes the count.]

CD: What?? Ken Curtis just pulled Ethan off of James! What
in the world?

MM: What's he doing that for? This is elimination style!!!

JW: You must remember, "Cowboy" Ken Curtis has made it publically
known that he wants to be the one to pin Casey "Blackheart"
James. It's been a long going feud that has never really had
an ending.

CD: Ethan should have won the match!

[With the ref seemingly still out of the match and Curtis and
Ethan de Sade's brawling, Casey James rolls over across the
ring, making his way to the lone brass knuckles. In the centre
of the ring, Sade and Curtis are trading rights and lefts, neither
man really getting the upperhand. And right when the ref comes to,
James nails Ken Curtis in the back of the head with the knucks. . .
and the referee sees it all!]

[Ding, ding, ding.]

ME: Ladies and gentlemen, I have just been informed that due to
disqaulification, Casey "Blackheart" James has been eliminated
from this matchup at the twenty-three minute mark.

[Huge pop as the camera zooms into the face of James, who,
interestingly, isn't mad, but he has some sort of sadistic,
wicked smile on his face.]

MM: Why is this man smiling? He's just been eliminated for using
a foreign object in which he didn't bring to the ring. If that
were me, I would be mad--

CD: And that's great, but the bigger question is that why Ethan
de Sade hasn't chose to win the match yet.

JW: That's not a question, that's an opinion.

[The crowd boos James as he steps through the middle and top
ropes, and heads back up the rampway.

Inside the ring, however, Ethan de Sade is taking advantage of
Curtis' being knocked out with the brass knuckles. Ethan de
Sade now wraps Curtis into an anklelock submission hold, quickly
making Curtis scream and writhe in pain.]

CD: This is a painful hold to be in, but it also gives the man
that's delivering the hold a chance for a breather. And
seeing that there are only two men in the ring now, I think
that Ethan de Sade can now show you guys why he's the one of
the best technically sound wrestlers in the world.

JW: Well, there's doubting that he's not technically sound.

CD: Sure isn't.

[Though the hold is painful, Curtis' power enables him to scoot
to the ropes. Sade, however, uses all of his disqualification
seconds before letting the hold go. After he lets go, Ethan
starts stomping on the same ankle in which he applied the hold
on. Sade stands Curtis up and whips him into the ropes.
Curtis comes off the rebound and Sade takes him down with a
Japanse armdrag takedown, turning it into a top wristlock,
continuing to add pressure to Curtis.]

CD: Look at the brilliance that this man is showing in the
ring! I'm pretty sure that he's glad that this match
turned into a singles contest, because that's when you
can really showcase your talent!

JW: It sure is, and it seems as if Ethan de Sade is doing
quite better now that he's got one man inside the ring
with him, and not two.

[After a few minutes of the top wristlock hold on Curtis,
Curtis makes his way to one knee, though he has no fan
support whatsoever. Curtis, with his free arm, sends a
big elbow squarely into the chest of Ethan de Sade, quickly
making him drop the hold. Curtis rebounds himself from the
ropes and when he comes off the rebound, Ethan sends him
right back down to the ground with a big spinebuster slam!]

CD: Yes! Ethan's in full control of this match right now!
There's absolutely no stopping him right now. He can't
do anything wrong.

JW: Sure he can, we just haven't seen it yet.

[Ethan takes both of Curtis' legs and holds them up and
seperates them. Ethan pauses for a moment as the crowd
gives him a big pop. After a few moments, Ethan drives
his head down into the abdomen of Curtis, making Curtis
clutch his abdomen in pain. Ethan, however, isn't done
with Curtis. Ethan begins stomping on the same abdomen
that he just hit him with his head a second ago. After
a few moments of the stomping, Ethan stands Curtis up
and whips him straight into the corner. Curtis lands
hard on his back. Ethan backs up a few feet, and then
flies across the ring, and goes for a big splash, but
Curtis catches him in mid-air, and slams him on the mat
with a big sidewalk slam!]

JW: Holy moly! What a move by Ken Curtis! He really
shook up Ethan right there! I think Ethan's going
to have some spine troubles tomorrow morning.

MM: Yeah, he'd better pick up some Icy Hot on his way
back to Santa Cruz! That looked painful!

CD: Shut up, guys. Ethan isn't hurt, he's just playing.

[Curtis, however, isn't playing as he backs up into the
corner, and steps up onto the middle turnbuckle so that
he's sitting on the top turnbuckle. Curtis throws his
hands out into a crucifix, and jumps off, nailing Ethan
with a big second rope forearm smash!]

MM: Mmmmmmmm. . . That might end the match. He needs to
pin Ethan right now.

[And Curtis must of heard Mike, because he quickly hooks
the leg of Ethan de Sade, and the referee slides down
into position.

1. . .

2. . .

MM: No! Ethan de Sade got the shoulder up at the last
second. He's not out of this match just yet. Let's
not count Sade out.

CD: What? Excuse me? You two guys have been doing that
all along, so don't say anything about not counting
Sade out, because that's all you two guys have been
doing.

JW: [sighs]

[Curtis, furious that he didn't get the win right there,
throws three fingers into the face of the official and
begins berating him. He forces the ref back into the
corner, and the ref keeps on saying that it was only a
two-count, Curtis goes and stands Ethan de Sade up again.
Curtis takes Ethan and whips him hard into the corner.
Curtis gets a running start and goes for a big splash,
but in a moment to remember forever, Ethan de Sade hits
him with a big back body drop. . .

OUT of the ring!]

CD: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!! ETHAN!!! That's my Ethan!
Show them how to wrestle, Ethan! Did you see that?
Mike, did you see it?

MM: [nonchalantly] Yes, Chris.

CD: Joey, did you see that?

JW: [angrily] YES, Chris.

CD: Whooo! Yes! That has to be the highlight of the whole
fricken card! Ethan just back bodied Ken Curtis out of
the ring! I like it!

[Ethan, still hurt a bit, doesn't know where Curtis is. After
a few moments of turning around, he sees Curtis laying in a
heap next to the ring barrier. Ethan, all smiles, steps out
of the ring and onto the outside mat. He walks over to Curtis
and drags him up to his feet. He throws Curtis into a front
face lock, and eventually takes him over with a big vertical
suplex right onto the concrete.]

JW: Folks, that might be padded, but nothing can guard you
from concrete! That's one hundred percent concrete
underneath the padding right there, so the suplex has
to have rocked the back of Curtis!

CD: And not only because there was concrete, but because
Ethan puts more effort into his moves, it's no wonder
by Curtis went up and *over* the ring post!

JW: Great. We're going to have to be hearing that from
you all night.

CD: Sure will. Long live Ethan, long live Ethan!

[Ethan pulls Curtis back up and begins to roll him in the
ring, when. . .

Ding, ding, ding

the bell rings! The crowd quickly begins to throw extracurricular
objects into the ring, and all of this while booing. Ethan,
who was just about to roll Curtis into the ring, just lets him
drop onto the outside mat, wondering why the bell rung.]

CD: W-w-what's going on here?

JW: You're just as surprised as I am.

CD: Who rung that bell? Damnit, Mike, did you fall asleep again?

JW: They weren't out of the ring long enough to be counted out.
What in the world's happening here? Ethan's furious!

ME: Ladies and gentlemen, I've been told that the following match
has been ruled a time limit *draw!*

[Huge heel pop for Mark Edwards, the ring announcers, as he has
to now duck a few objects being hurled at him.]

CD: And these fans have gone nuts. The ones throwing stuff must
be from America, 'cause us english folk don't do that.

JW: That's not the point.

[Ethan, who's shocked to hear that, continues beating on Curtis,
who is out of it.]

JW: Will these two guys advance to the winner's battle royal?
They didn't win, so they shouldn't advance, right?

CD: What are you talking about. If you don't win, you lose.
And the rules clearly state that in order to advance to
the battle royal, you must win your match. These guys
didn't lose, so they must have won!

MM: *Actually*, they drawed, so that means that *didn't* win,
and therefore, they *don't* advance.

CD: Mike, I hope you've got a second job, because I don't think
you're getting a paycheck. What's going on here? What's the
official decision here?

ME: Ladies and gentlemen, the ref and I have conferred, and we
have came to the conclusion that Ethan de Sade and "Cowboy"
Ken Curtis will *NOT* be advancing to the Winners' Battle
Royal in the main event of tonight's card.

I've also been told by ringside security that you, the fans,
must refrain from throwing objects, as they are other matches
to be wrestled before the end of tonight!

CD: [standing on his seat.] What in the world? Why aren't
they advancing? What's going on here?

[As Chris is yelling, more and more yellow-jacketed security
members come by the broadcasting table to break up the fight
between Ethan de Sade and Ken Curtis. The brawl, having lasted
over three minutes, now begins to move past the broadcasting
table, both men throwing lefts and rights.]

CD: [still standing] Don't worry, Ethan, I'll figure something
out. We'll work something out. [sitting down] I think
it's evident that *somebody* isn't receiving a paycheck.

JW: And I think it's evident that *something* is a little off.

CD: Yeah, Masterson, you could have put on a clean suit for this event!

JW: Folks, as they set up the steel cage around the ring, let's take you
to the locker room area where I'm told we have some words from LOCO.

[Camera fades to the dressing room as LOCO sits with James Andrews.]

JA: LOCO tell me about the hatred for Setzer Van Strife.

LOCO: What you and everyone else fails to realize is, there is no
hatred. I'm trying to teach this guy how to be a man. How to stand
on his own two feet. His whole entire career he's done what he
thinks LOCO would have wanted him to do. He's tried to impress
me... now rebel against me. He doesn't understand... I made him. I
can break him.

JA: Are you still friends with Setzer Van Strife?

LOCO: It's the same as it ever was.

JA: What do you hope to accomplish tonight?

LOCO: I'm the big papa bird. I have my young sparrow SVS in the nest...
or cage. It's time to see if he can fly on his own. So I'll push
the little bastard out the nest... he either fly's on his own or
he falls and breaks his skull.

JA: Thanks for this interview LOCO.

LOCO: Whatever!

[Cut back to ringside.]

MM: WOW! Strong words there from the teacher.

CD: He'd better be ready, Masterson. They'd both better be ready,
because the time is NOW!
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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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
______________________________________________________________
| _ __ ______ |
| / | / /___ / ____/ LOCO |
| / |/ / __ \/ /___ vs. |
| / /| / /_/ / /_/ / SETZER VAN STRIFE |
| /_/ |_/\____/\____/ (STEEL CAGE MATCH) |
| "AN EVENING OF STARS" Writer: Steve Tong |
|______________________________________________________________|

MM: That's true. It's the mentor against the pupil, as worlds collide
inside a steel cage.

[Masterson shifts his body toward Worthington...]

MM: Joseph who do you predict will prevail in this bout.

JW: No doubt Loco has the upper hand in experience, but "2 Smooth"
Setzer Van Strife have been on a roll since god knows when. Its hard
for me already to foretell the winner of this bout...but...I have a
feeling that Setzer will take it all the way...

[Douglas interrupts.]

CD: Are you insane, Worthington? WELL LOCO is... No green paper puke can
defeat a nut-case like LOCO. LOCO has been hiding in the
independents far too long, its time he regain his *spotlight*
winning this match sure will gain some exposure for LOCO! LOCO will
be the winner. COUNT ON IT!

MM: Lets get to the ring... I can't wait...

[The low, rythmic beginning guitar rifts to Pearl Jam's "Not For You"
begin to droll out over the PA System. The fans stand, almost as if in a
trance, as the lights begin to dim, almost to black. The flames from
lighters begin to ignite from the crowd, and a few flashes begin as the
Jumbotron flicks on, the dark overtones of the guitar complementing the
entire scene. Video of Van Strife is played, as he is shown jacking SCRA
World Champion J.W. Hardin at a recent show. A bright flash of light
from the 'Tron illuminates the screen for a moment, as another video of
Van Strife is show, this time superkicking Derek Mota, as Mota hits the
mat. This scene slowly dissolves to black, as two words take over the
screen in crimson...]

_____ _ _ _____ _____ _ _ _____ _ _ ____ _____
|_ _| | | | ____| | ___| | | |_ _| | | | _ \| ____|
| | | |_| | _| | |_ | | | | | | | | | | |_) | _|
| | | _ | |___ | _| | |_| | | | | |_| | _ <| |___
|_| |_| |_|_____| |_| \___/ |_| \___/|_| \_\_____|

[BA-BOOM! BA-BOOM! BA-BOOM! Three explosions fire off from the entrance,
one right after the other, forming a pillar of smoke and flames. The
fans pop loudly as out of the smoke steps Setzer Van Strife, standing
there with hands on hips, surveying the crowd. His jet black hair is
spiked up to perfection, with a few streaks of blonde in as well. His
crystal blue eyes dart around the arena, looking at the mass of fans on
their feet. A look of joy overcomes his face, as if for just one moment,
he could be happy.

Van Strife wears a sleevless black t-shirt, showing his massive arms,
well, at least for a man of his size. Written in simple crimson text on
the front of his shirt are the words "LEGEND KILLER", as he raises his
arms to point to it, proud of what he expects to do this evening. He
then raises his arms even further, the fans anticipating his next move
as he lowers them to his crotch, getting an even bigger response. It is
then that Van Strife begins to lunge forward, on his way to the ring.

The fans in the front rows try and reach out for him, as Van Strife just
ignores them, focused on the cage that looms ahead of him. Another look
overcomes his face, caution, as he looks around, anticipating an attack
from his mentor LOCO. He makes his way to the base of the cage, looking
up as he sizes up the mass of steel. Van Strife then walks up the stairs
leading to the cage, and steps in, as the lights come on. Van Strife
then looks to the entrance, awaiting the arrival of his opponent...
LOCO!]

MM: Strife is obviously worried about LOCO sneak attacking him on the
back. A smart move, by "2 smooth" in my opinion.

[Sound of an auto wreck..... I'M THE MAN by Anthrax begins to play]

[A figure emerges from the back. He's dressed in black jean shorts and a
black t-shirt with the word "LEGEND" printed on the front in big red
letters. He has long tangled black hair which is tied into a pony tail
at the top of his head. His eyes sinister, like a bird of prey ready to
swoop down upon his opponent. He walks, stalks, towards the ring. Each
step another notch towards victory.]

[He wears a noose around his neck with the end dangling to his feet.
It's none other than the "Legend" himself...-EXPLOSTION-]

Voice: IT'S LOCO.... GOD DAMN IT... IT'S LOCO !!!

[-EXPLOSTION-]

[LOCO makes his way to the announcers table. He picks up a wireless mic.
He turn to the cage where Setzer Van Strife is standing... and speaks]

JW: [VO] What is he doing???

CD: [VO] Does it really matter, Worthington? Its not like you can stop
him. Lets just listen to his gargle.

LOCO: Setz, we've been doing our macho bullshit for weeks now...

[Crowd Pop]

LOCO: It's time for us to go into this cage and settle things like men.
Time to finally see if the student has learned all his lessons....

[Mixed reaction]

LOCO: Or is there something the teacher still can still teach. So stand
back because school's about to start....

[Huge Crown Pop]

LOCO: THE TRUTH HURTS DON'T IT?

CD: [VO] It sure does, LOCO will certainly lay the truth and the hurt
toward his student Setzer Van Strife.

[-EXPLOSION-]

[LOCO flicks the microphone to the floor, making a "Thump" noise. The
fans are up to their feet anticipating onto this match. Setzer has his
game face on. The once mild Setzer Van Strife eludes his expression to a
esctatic face. "2 smooth" is motioning to LOCO to hurry up. LOCO
notices, he winds up a smirk... LOCO, step by step gradually makes it to
the steel cage... The door is slammed shut...]

[While Loco is still on the steel steps, Setzer points to the outside...
LOCO looks at it, _NOTHING_ it was just a setup. LOCO turns back to
Setzer... TOO LATE. SETZER just hit a CORKSCREW plancha over the ropes
and crashing over the steel door. Both fall out of the steel cage...
Both are on the outside...]

JW: I guess this match will be a scientific/brawl contest. LOCO is down
laying on the guardrail. Surprisingly, Setzer is up after the
devastating blow, as if it hadn't effect him at all.

CD: LOCO get up!

MM: Setzer is hoisting up LOCO by his hair, sending him into the steel
door.

[[[[[[[[[[[[BANNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG]]]]]]]]]]]]

JW: Setzer is laying his offensive, alright... LOCO is wobbly... Setzer
throws LOCO to the steel cage...

[Setzer goes into the steel cage. LOCO climbs back up to the ring.
Awaiting for Strife to come.]

MM: THE STEEL DOOR IS shut... LOCO looks on toward Setzer... Both
staring coldly at each other, its even giving me chills.

CD: WHAT IS THIS???!!! Some ingrate is coming out of the curtains...

JW: I am getting word this man calls himself Pico "TLM" Sauz...

[Sauz has a lock at his left and a chain at his right hand. He's at the
steel door. HE just CHAINLOCKED the door... THEY CAN'T get out... Sauz
has a key in his pocket, he takes it out...and swallows the key... Pico
gives the thumbs up to both Setzer and LOCO... LOCO and Setzer both
acknowledge.]

MM: Sweet moses the only way these two can get out, is if they climb
their way out.

CD: Shaddap, Masterson. This is nothing compare to what I have done to
win a match. I like it, their just putting more feud, erm, FUEL to
the fire!

JW: Fair enough.

MM: THESE two men are seconds away till wrestling each-other again. They
never finished the score, what better way to settle it then in
"Night of Glory". The fans are ecstatic, I can't here myself talk...

CD: Lets get this show on the road...

[Momentarily, Setzer goes to the ring. Both are circling each other not
losing an eye of a second on each other. Setzer is the one to start it
off, officially. Setzer goes closer and closer to Loco... DROP TOE HOLD,
by Strife. Strife runs his way toward Loco's head/shoulder area.
Applying a camel clutch...]

MM: Setzer showing us all, what a great mat wrestler he is...

[Douglas interrupts.]

CD: Masterson, you are an idiot. Anybody can apply a chinlock...

JW: Setzer finally lets go of the submission hold... Strife knows its
going to take more then two manuevers to take LOCO out of his game.

[LOCO is back up. Setzer looks on. LOCO and Setzer are grappling again,
this time, LOCO has the advantage. He throws Setzer away. Strife goes
again to the stronger LOCO for the grapple, same result. LOCO pushes
away Strife. Strife runs toward LOCO for the last time. THEY grapple,
for a few dispariging seconds, it seems like LOCO has the upper
advantage until, Setzer kick him in the abdomen... LOCO falls down in
one knee. Setzer pulls LOCO's hair; slams his head to the mat. LOCO
bellows a scream.]

MM: Setzer showing us the 3rd time is a charm.

CD: LOCO will get him back for that, trust me.

JW: Strife just slammed LOCOs' head to the mat again. Strife is
relentless, he wants to win this match as much as LOCO! Like he said
before, they never actually "settled" the score.

[Setzer picks up LOCO, he is going for a suplex. A snap suplex, it was
picture perfect. 'The Future' whips himself to the ropes and a legdrop
is executed. The gaudy Strife, hits a elbow drop... then trys to force
LOCO to submit to a leg scissor.]

MM: I get the feeling that 'The Future' doesn't understand, submission
holds won't do good in this match. Plain and simple ya' gotta win
this match by climbing and escaping from this steel cage, that is
_THE_ only way!

JW: I have to disagree, Mike. I think Setzer wants to slice and dice
LOCO, thoroughly before he can get out of this cage.

CD: Finally some words of wisdom from you, Worthington.

[Setzer lets go of the hold. Strife takes a big deep inhale, before
going to work again on LOCO. For some reason the lights flickers. TLM
"PICO" SAUZ comes to the ringside again. He has a chair and a steel
silver water bucket with him. Using all his strength he throws the
chair, first, over the steel cage, then the water bucket.]

CD: [VO: laughs] THIS IS WONDERFUL! We're bound to see some blood...

MM: Oh' will you stop?!?!?!

JW: Strife see's the steel bucket, bad news for LOCO...

[Setzer takes the bucket lay in the canvas, going back to the down and
out LOCO... Setzer hoists up LOCO, he just SLAMMED the bucket onto
LOCO. Blood is gushing rapidly through LOCO's left cheek. LOCO falls
down.]

MM: I COULD'VE HEARD the __CRACK__ in the nosebleed sections. GOOD GOD,
it'll take alot of punishment to defeat LOCO, but I think Setzer
just done it.

JW: Strife is not trying to escape the cage, I don't think he's even
thinking about that at all, look at this he's working on the busted
gash in LOCO's left cheek. He's giving good stiff punches to the
area... Its bleeding furiously to the mat...

CD: Thats nothing, Worthington. If you want to see some of the marks and
bruises in my face and body, its not even close to what LOCO has to
contend with.

JW: No, thank you. Lets get back to the match...

[Masterson interrupts.]

MM: ...These two have been the best of friends for over a year, seeing
them beating the snot out of each other really makes you think twice
about their "friendship", but nevertheless they want to bury the
hatchet on who is the better wrestler. The mentor or the student.
As of now, I'm going way that Setzer will be the victorious one.

JW: Theres no doubt in any of our mind's that Setzer is on the
offensive, but just in a quick cat-like second, LOCO can turn the
momentum around for his expense.

[Strife is dragging the bloody LOCO to the middle of the ring... "The
future" goes is climbing his way to the top turnbuckle. HE MAKES IT!!!
STRIFE is signaling for a high-flying manuever. HE just PERFECTED a 450
Reverse MOONSAULT splash!]

CD: DAMNIT! LOCO, you can't let this "disgrace", beat you. YOU JUST
CAN'T!

MM: I don't think Strife is looking forward to end this match rapidly as
possible, like before he had the opportunity to evade the cage he
did not take it... And again its the same result.

JW: When I interviewed Setzer, which by the way it was off-camera, he
exclaimed to me that the least he wanted was to end the match this
soon. He wants to show his *mentor*, that he *knows* everything he
was taught by LOCO! Here he is showing us, that he's no more the
student, but the *mentor*...

CD: Gimme a break, Worthington... Setzer isn't at his prime yet, but
LOCO is. Strife has lots to learn before he can eliminate a pure
talent like LOCO. Give LOCO time, he'll strategize his way to win.

[Setzer is lifting up, LOCO, by the hair. He's running while still
grabbing onto the hair.]

[[[[[------SSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNN------]]]]]

MM: My god, Setzer while running slams the helpless LOCO onto the steel.
LOCO falls down.

JW: A pint of blood is already lost in LOCO's body. Can he take more of
this brutal slaying by "The Future"?

CD: You bet your fat-buttox, he can take this punishment. LOCO's been in
the big house, this is nothing from what he's been through in that
place.

[LOCO's gash widens bigger, drips of blood trickles down his chin.
Setzer legdrops LOCO. LOCO is screaming in torment. Strife grabbing
onto LOCO again, this time LOCO gives Setzer a eye gouge, a kick follow
then by an OVER-FLOW DDT!]

MM: A combination of moves by LOCO...

JW: That Over-flowing DDT, got the best of Strife, he's twitching his
left leg in pain.

CD: [laughs] I told you two, its a matter of time before LOCO breaks
out, and HE JUST DID! Hold on to your saddles, Strife because you're
in for a hell of a ride.

MM: Douglas have you been taking "Cowboy" lines from Ken Curtis again?
But anyway, lets get back to the match.

[LOCO is stomping at the back of Strife. Strife is not moving at all.
LOCO catches a camera glaring at him. He smirks; is lifting up Strife
for a picture-perfect *SWINGING* neckbreaker. LOCO is going to the
turnbuckle, reaching the top one, he NAILS A LEGDROP from the top
buckle.]

JW: A legdrop from the top rope!!! A LEGDROP FROM THE TOP-ROPE!
Amazing, LOCO is a big fellow, but boy is he agile.

CD: Anything to win, Worthington. He's doing what he can to prevail.

MM: Well theirs no part in us to blame him for that. From this angle it
seems to me, that LOCO is a bit hurt himself after the top
turnbuckle legdrop. He's holding onto his left knee, grimacing.

[While LOCO! is holding onto his damaged knee, luckily for "The Future"
he had enough rest to get back to his feet. He just noticed the steel
chair untouched in the ring. Setzer is going for the chair, he has it in
both of his hands.]

MM: THIS is ___BADNEWS___ for LOCO!

[[[[[[[[[[BBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMM]]]]]]]]]]

MM: GOOD MORNING! GOOD AFTERNOON!.... AND....
__GOOOOOOOODDDDDDNNNNNNIIIIIIGGGGGGHHHHHHHTTT_!!!!

JW: A MONSTER SHOT from SETZER VAN STRIFE! THE CROWD is --ELECTRIFIED--
after the force of the blow.

CD: IS HE *BLOODY* DEAD?

JW: Let's hope not...

[LOCO is motionessly laying himself in the steel cage ring. Setzer folds
the chair -- lifting up -- he just thrust the chair to LOCO's abdomen.
LOCO is showing agony nothing less nothing more. Setzer while placing
forth a poker face throws the steel chair to the other side.]

MM: What Strife will do, now, is beyond me. I think he's done everything
in the book to take the win. BUT _STILL_ he isn't even trying to
escape this shackle. WHY suffer more loss on your blood count, just
get it over with. These two are practically half-dead...

[Worthington intervenes.]

JW: Mike, I think its a matter of respect. LOCO still thinks Setzer
haven't gained a yard against him, Strife wants to prove him wrong.
He wants to prove us wrong. THAT maybe the student learned new
tricks, even the mentor didn't know about.

CD: Don't be gullible, Worthington. LOCO is in a phase right now, he
will get out of it. And when he does, you can say 'nighty, night'
for Strife.

[Strife is hooking up LOCO for a leg submission. THE SHARPSHOOTER! ITS
LOCKED! LOCO is trying to escape out of it, but nothing is working. Now
he's crawling with his arms, millimeter by millimeter to the ropes.
Blood is still dripping from LOCO's gash. LOCO........ GRABS THE ROPES!]

MM: I don't think LOCO remember that in Steel cage contests, ITS
ANYTHING GOES!

CD: Can you really be this idiotic, Masterson? LOCO is grabbing to the
ropes to force, Setzer out of the hold. He is simply trying to gain
leverage, to do so. A veteran like, I, would know.

JW: I'm afraid... [gulp] Chris, is right.

[LOCO against all prodigious odds, utilizing all the strength left in
his legs shoves Setzer to the ground. Strife is beside himself, he
cannot believe what has transpired here. His emotions quickly transform
to ANGER. LOCO is gathering himself up to the corner...]

MM: LOCO is still mobile, he still can move his legs and other lower
extremities.

JW: LOCO is pursuing to win this brutal contest, your going to hafta'
break his knees until he will submit.

CD: ...STRIFE almost did it, too.

[Setzer is pacing himself treading his way to LOCO! Setzer kicks him. A
thai kick, then a european uppercut. Another kick, LOCO attacks back. A
job to the face, another one... EYE-RAKE. LOCO has the upperhand.]

CD: Job well done, LOCO. Now KEEP IT UP!

MM: Can LOCO keep the adrenaline going, or will the mallacious Setzer
Van Strife halt his momentum?

JW: LOCO picks up SETZER!!!! OH MY GOD! A CORKSCREW FISHERMAN SUPLEX.
LOCO lets go, since this is a steel cage match, submission will do
no good.

CD: STRIFE is hurt... LOOK AT THIS, LOCO is climbing up the steel cage,
I think he wants out of it...

MM: Setzer is still unaware that LOCO is trying to leave the cage...
HUH! WAIT JUST A MINUTE! LOCO is stopping his tracks inside the
steel cage, while mid-high in the cage. WHATS HE DOING? IS HE
ACTUALLY thinking about... JUMPING BACK TO THE SQUARE CIRCLE? A
ELBOW DROP from the CAGE!!!!

JW: LOCO just dropped ten feet from the cage, and connected a ELBOW
DROP! Not to mention, he also destroyed his chance to get out of
"Night of Glory" with a win.

CD: Only LOCO is insane enough to take a dive so high up there, just to
maim his opponent a little bit more. THATS why, LOCO earned my
respect. OOOH!!! THE TRUTH HURT DOESN'T IT???

[Douglas laughs.]

MM: Stop being sarcastic and lets get back to the match.

[LOCO stands up, he bumbles a little bit. But still maintaining his
balance. HE PICKS UP Setzer whipping him to the ropes and back. A
CLOTHESLINE, that flips Setzer twisting in air. SETZER holds his neck in
grit. LOCO adjacent to Setzer see's the chair few feet away from him...]

MM: Goodness gracious, LOCO has the chair! And by the looks of the steel
weapon it has it better days, with all those dents placed in the
chair.

JW: LOCO just __DRIVED__ the chair to Setzer's stomach!!!

CD: [Laughs] ITS time LOCO use that chair for his advantage!

MM: You talk about the two bruised and battered, look at the chair, its
been beaten worse then Setzer or LOCO.

[Setzer is yelling and screaming, but LOCO doesn't even mind. LOCO
gives a few little kicks pushing the folded steel chair next to Setzer.
LOCO goes to Setzer, he's lifting up Setzer. A PILEDRIVER TO THE
CHAIR!!!!!!!!]

[[[[[CCCCCCCRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCKKKK]]]]]

JW: THIS IS ABSOLUTELY BARBARIC! AND THE FANS ARE JUST CHEERING LOCO
ON!!!

CD: THATS BRITS FASHION!

MM: Setzer's cranium must've been cracked after the PILEDRIVER onto the
chair. TO ADD INJURY to insult, I don't believe what i'm seeing,
LOCO is putting the steel chair or whatever is left onto Strife...
But with a gentle touch, so Strife would not know. HE'S got it on
HIS FACE!

[LOCO whips himself to the rope, coming back he LEGDR--, NOOOO!!! SETZER
just moved, but the chair was still there in the same location... LOCO
JUST LEGDROPPED HIMSELF on the CHAIR. HE is in some __EXCRUCIATING__
pain! SETZER is back up, like he is in tip-top shape. He looks to the
audience, and nods; smiles.]

JW: DID, STRIFE played possom all along, or is he just disguising his
injuries?

MM: Joseph, I don't think anybody can *makeup* a PILEDRIVER to a chair!

CD: HOW. WHAT. UGHH!!!???

[Setzer is climbing the cage, he's mid-high again... This time he looks
back at LOCO... He turns back up.. He's climbing steel loops by steel
loops. Setzer does not realize that LOCO just rised. LOCO is climbing up
the steel cage also, he's a few feet below Strife, LOCO just grabbed
SETZER'S HEEL!!!!! Setzer is shaking LOCO hand off, but LOCO has a firm
grip of STRIFE's heel...]

JW: SETZER is trying to expirtate his foot away from LOCO, but LOCO has
him covered. LOCO is gaining closer and closer to his student...
THERE RIGHT NEXT TO EACH OTHER!!! Setzer just punched LOCO in the
face...

[Masterson interrupts.]

MM: LOCO retaliates with a FIST OF HIS OWN! Setzer sends another to his
recipient... LOCO shakes his head. SETZER is climbing up to the top
of the STEEL CAGE!!! HE'S CLIMBING!!! HE reached it!!! FINALLY!!!
BUT LOCO is not far away... Setzer is trying to leave the cage, LOCO
is not allowing him to do so... LOCO makes it to the top, also.
SETZER AND LOCO ARE ON THE TOP of the cage!!!!

CD: FISTS ARE FLYING AGAIN! LOCO is falling away toward the ring, STRIFE
just sent another punch!!! LOCO JUST FELL FACE FLAT 15 feet,
descending back to the *BLOODY* RING!

JW: STRIFE... He's looking at the out-side where the fans are yelling
him to come out, Setzer turns around to see the bloody LOCO!!! HE
DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO! STRIFE get out of there!!!

[Strife looks at LOCO, then to the fans again... A perplexed face from
Strife... Setzer scratches his head. He... He... HE'S standing up on the
top if the steel cage. Setzer closes his eyes...]

MM: IS HE LEAVING OR COMING BACK? WHY'S HE CLOSING HIS EYES?

{{{{{{{{DDDDDDDDDDDDDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOFFFFFFFFF}}}}}}}}

JW: WHAT IN.........

CD: JESUS CHRIST!!!!! A MOONSAULT FROM THE TOP OF THE STEEL CAGE!!! A
MOONSAULT FROM THE TOP OF THE CAGE!!!

MM: SETZER LANDED IN THE LOWER BACK OF LOCO! BUT he just knock the wind
out of himself in the process!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST SAW
HERE!!! SETZER, has done the impossible!!! I've seen wrestlers jump
off the top cage, but never as dangerous as A "MOONSAULT"!

[The three broadcasters are speechless. A minute passed, LOCO and Setzer
are still down. Worthington breaks the silence.]

JW: I hate to be irrelevant right now, but in my opinion, I think Setzer
should've took the win, than suffer the consequences. THAT was the
biggest mistake he ever made... I believe this is the second time he
cost himself a chance to win this match, and thats just inexcusable.

MM: No matter who takes the win, lets all tip our hats to Strife and
LOCO, there putting a heck of a show for us, and the match is not
even flirting to end... IS STRIFE moving?

CD: HE IS!!! Strife is moving. Barely. BUT HE'S MOVING out of LOCO's
back. GOOD LORD look at the mark presented by Strife to LOCO! Is it
going to stay there permanently?

JW: "The Future" is moving, but thats not the case for LOCO!

MM: SETZER is kneeling and crawling toward the corner... LOCO is still
down, and it doesn't seem he's going to rise from his *realm*
anytime soon.

[Setzer is laying his back to the bottom ring cushion. Heaving. LOCO is
now conscious. LOCO rolls himself. Now laying on his back. His gash is
working his way out again. ITS pouring out furiously, once again. LOCO
is trying to conceal the enormous cut, but instead its making matters
worse then already is.]

JW: You talk about brutal, horrific, and BLOODY matches were seeing it
all tonight.

MM: Y'know these two faced each other before in two seperate occasions,
they never settle the score... The last two matches where both of
them confronted each other, is nothing compared to this contest.
THESE TWO ARE the best of pals, but look at them now trying to knock
each other senseless, trying maybe succeding to jeopardize each
others career. Its just a sheer all out war between them, and
nothing can stop them. This *maybe* there last altercation to see
who is the better, stronger and WISER one...

CD: Is it me or do you need to just shutup? I'm telling you, Masterson,
just because LOCO is keeping himself on a low-profile doesn't mean
he lost a inch of his talent, his mat wrestling, and his vision in
the ring...

JW: Strife is up. STRIFE IS UP! STRIFE may not be fully healed from the
MOONSAULT on the top of the steel cage, though he doesn't really
cared. He is fear of nothing, true-grid-iron toughness and
perseverance is what Strife is maintaining. After the whole ordeal
just minutes ago, I don't think anybody wouldn't throw in the towel
by now.

[Strife hoists up LOCO! POWERBOMB!!! The gash is practically opening
inch to inch by the second. Strife puts LOCO to a camels clutch. LOCO is
holding on, but how long until he surrenders??? Setzer is putting more
pressure to LOCO lower's sternum neck/back area.]

MM: LOCO is in a world of hurt!!! Tapping out doesn't mean a thing when
you're wrestling in a steel cage, eventually Setzer lets go. LOCO is
out, but _STILL_ Strife wants to punish and punish LOCO more.

JW: Folks look here, this is the first time, Setzer snapped from a calm
gifted wrestler to a fierce brutal barbarian... LOCO is the man that
caused this, he caused Setzer to snap. I don't know, if Setzer wants
to win the match or just beat the living heck out of LOCO. "The
FUTURE" still has the treacherous submission on LOCO!!! Like what
Mike just said, LOCO is out why not Setzer just take the win and
call it a night?

CD: Worthington, what you're looking at now is whats going to cause the
result of the match. Setzer's carelessness. He should've evade the
premices, long ago, BUT _NO_ he wanted to prove and prove again that
he is the better wrestler. Strife you may or may not be the better
wrestler, but without a shadow of a doubt your the moronic one
between the two. THIS is going to very well backfire for LOCO's
sake.

MM: Lets be honest now, I have no idea what Setzer is still here in the
steel cage, LOCO is out... What more else can he do to, LOCO?
Nothing really. Setzer main goal here was to get out of the cage
with a win... HE has the opportunity now, HOWEVER he isn't even
blinking a thought about leaving the cage, as of right now. I just
can't contemplate with that. It doesn't make any sense, at all.

[Setzer is going to the top turnbuckle again. He's on the top... Sending
a signal to the fans, he is going for the 450 somersault SPLASH!!! HE...
HE... NOOOOOOOO!!!!! LOCO frantically turned away at the last second.]

CD: LOCO still has some gas running.

JW: DID he ever, dodge a big bullet or what? Strife just collapsed to
the floor. This is not good. Both are down, but LOCO... LOCO he's
moving. LOCO is gaping for air... Setzer is trying to regain his
senses...

CD: LOCO beat up that lousy canuck! [snickers] STRIFE, like I said
before you're making a big mistake letting this savage beast back to
the jungle. You're going to feel the effects of that right about
now... Say your prayers, Strife, you don't have that much time...

[Setzer while still a little dizzy from the mishap stands up wobbly.
Strife shakes his head. Turning back... LOCO just tackled him!!! FISTS
are flying everywhere, but this time LOCO is supplying every one of
them. Setzer is doing all he can to block the punches, but only few
were shielded...]

MM: LOCO grabs a big chunk of Strifes black hair. GUT-WRENCH SUPLEX!
LOCO setted Strife up for a gut-wrench suplex. LOCO picks Setzer
right back up. A swinging neck breaker, sends Strife tumbling down
to the canvas.

JW: LOCO is on a rampage!!! Now that his wounds are healed, he is
relentless.

CD: That's the LOCO we all know and love.

[The crowd begins to chant... LOCO! LOCO! LOCO!]

MM: The audience aren't really decisive on who are their favorite
wrestler are they. One minute they were yelling and screaming for
Setzer, the next -- LOCO -- is being cheered.

CD: Quiet, *we* are picky, if you have problems with that, then say so.

JW: This match just passed the 30 minute mark...

[LOCO grabs the steel bucket in the square circle. Pacing around with
it... Setzer is sitting in a doggy style position, turns upwards... LOCO
while running *SLAMS* the steel bucket to Strife's head. Strife
immediately falls down. Blood is flowing down from Setzers head...]

{{{{{{{{{BBBBBBBAAAAANNNNNNNNNGGGGG]}}}}}}}}

MM: As if we haven't already seen weapons playing the theme of this
match, its used again very abusively.

[LOCO turns his attention to the steel cage. Trimming his way through
the ropes, he is grabbing the steel loops, rung by rung...]

CD: LOCO come on!!! FASTER!!!

JW: Its obvious LOCO has enough of this shindig. He wants to leave here
with a win, I think he's going to do it???!!! On the other hand,
Setzer is up... SETZER is up, I don't think LOCO is aware of that...
However, I don't think Setzer is aware of LOCO escaping the cage...
LOCO is at the pinnacle of the cage...!!! SETZER just
__________SPRINGBOARDED__________ himself to the cage... BRACE
YOURSELF!!!

MM: OHHH MY GOODNESS!!! It looks like LOCO is losing his balance. He's
falling to the side of Setzer, NO! He holds onto grip... The steel
cage is a little shaky. The pertinacious Strife isn't giving up...
He's pushing the cage... LOCO still is in the zenith of the cage...

[Setzer is whipping himself back to the ropes then coming forward he
just _springboarded_ himself again, but this time he sticks onto the
steel cage, just a few feet away from LOCO. Setzer climbs up faster he
is next to LOCO!!! LOCO trys to jump, but Setzer holds onto LOCO's
tights...]

CD: I smell deja-vu all over again!!!??? Or is it just you, Worthington?

JW: Don't you ever put a sock in it.

MM: Stop the bickering, please, where at the climax of the match and all
you two are doing is insulting each other.

JW: I apologize.

CD: [sneers] ...... [mumbles]

[Strife gives a cold hard left, then a right. LOCO is falling down,
Strife can't holdon much longer. Strife loses LOCO's grip and in that
process, Strife accidentally takes a dive of his own... LOCO FALLS TO
THE CANVAS FROM 15 feet, amazing... Easily the biggest pop in the event.
LOCO is beaten and tamed... Blood and sweat and a drop of a tear
trickles down his face... The security is assisting LOCO to get up from
the mat...]

MM: A brilliant, classic performance from Setzer Van Strife and LOCO.
Both gave the fans more then 110 percent, but LOCO just gave a
little bit more to win by a hair...

JW: Fans, lemme say this you got your money's worth just by seeing this
contest.

CD: Heh. I'll admit it, Strife could've won, but instead his selfishness
and his carelessness cost him the match, so I have no sorrow for the
"canuck". Congrats, LOCO. Congrats.

[Setzer after a few minutes dazed on the mat, stands up tall and
bravely. LOCO looking up through his tangled curly hair spectates Strife
coming his way... As then "I'm the man" by Anthrax rumbles from the PA
system. Fans are silenced, only a rats squeel can be heard. Setzer is
OUT OF THE CAGE!!! He and LOCO meets face to face. NOSE to NOSE. TOE
TO TOE! Setzer spits out a few words while LOCO groans. LOCO then sheds
a few words. Setzer steps back a bit. He puts his hand for a shake. LOCO
looks at it in disbelief... A few seconds passed... LOCO hesitates, he
glares at Strife... LOCO puts his hand up for grabs... THEY both shake
hands. The crowd is cheering both of them on... The security personel
grabs the limping LOCO, while Setzer jumps over the guardrail to the
crowd. The fans are trying to touch Strife, but Strife moves quickly
away. The camera pans back toward the three announcers.]

MM: True sportmanship shown by Setzer and LOCO! Thats what we like to
see. Joseph what do you think was the fatal mistake that cost Strife
the match, their was one too many to count, but which was the *ONE*?

JW: Well I gotto go with the suicide dive from 15 feet up in the air,
first of all if you missed that would be jeopardizing your career...
Luckily for Strife's expense it didn't... Although, he should've
just took the win then, lets clap and give Strife some cheers. He's
the first one to ever moonsault on the brink of a steel cage, and
he'll probably be the last.

[Douglas interrupts.]

CD: Strife... Look at the bright-side... WAIT... there isn't any...
[chuckles.]

MM: Folks out their watching, please mind the presence of one Chris
Douglas... We want him out of the broadcast table just as much as
each and every one of you... Again, congratulations LOCO for the
outstanding win, lets get ready for our next match...

JW: If it was half as good as the last one, well then I CAN'T WAIT!

MM: (Holding his ear) WAIT! We're going back to the locker rooms! We
have a situation and... LET'S GO TO THE BACK!!

[The camera shot changes to that of a locker room area. Ken Curtis and
Ethan de Sade are seen with many officials as they try to reach one
another, presumably to brawl. The officials try to hold back Curtis and
de Sade, as a lot of yelling is heard. Cut back to ringside.]

JW: OH MY! It looks like we have something serious back there. I'm
told that both men feel that they should be in the battle royal, and
I don't think we're going to hear the last of it until something is
done.

CD: You know it, Worthington. I've already called my lawyer. He's on
his way down here, and we're going to get this mess sorted out. I'm
going to get to the bottom of this.

JW: Good luck. I have a feeling that the referee's decision is final,
but if you bore them to death with your rants and raves, they'll
probably eventually give in.

CD: (Eagerly) You think so?!?

JW: Puh-lease.

MM: Well, earlier in the week, I got the chance to conduct a very
special interview with one of the participants in our next match,
Shade. Let's take you to that right now.

[The shot cuts to the Night of Glory studios. A caption reads "recorded
August 30th, 1998".]

MM: Hello again. Joining me at this time is one of the eeriest people,
I've met in recent time. He is currently wrestling in ACW,
Applachian Championship Wrestling, an up and coming promotion based
in the Tennessee area. So if you ever passed by Tennessee, go check
out the ACW action. You won't be dissapointed.

[Masterson motions his left hand to the adjacent Shade.]

MM: Good to have you on the show, Shade.

Shade: Mike, the truth be known, there is a thin line between good and
bad, and maybe you're questioning it. You can not for see the
future, let alone know your role in it. The people seek for an
answer, yet do you believe I am the question to it? There is
reason for all being, and maybe, conquering the ability to see,
is it. So, let all questions be asked, and seek for your inner
truth, and realize which is true, and which is false.

MM: I have gotten FAX'es, calls, and even letters from wrestling
fanatics... They and especially I are anticipating this interview...

[Shade interrupts.]

Shade: There are so many paths, yet people don't know which to follow.
I believe you have entered in on a journey to land, and you not
know. Believing that, you believe, and seeking which you seek,
your on a path, which ends at a dead end. The reason I am here,
is not for any person, anything, or anyone. Not to clearify,
but to justify, the questions, which must be answered.

MM: Shade lets go back to memory lane. Who inspired you to become a
professional wrestler?

Shade: Inpsiration, does not come, without means and notification. I
was not inspired, yet I knew this was a way of redemption,
redemption for dreams lost, dreams found.. and dreams I'll never
see.

MM: And the plot thickens everybody... Shade, where did you get the
name Shade from?

Shade: Where did you get the name Mike from? Maybe you shouldn't
question, things you can not answer.. it was something which was
always there.

MM: Rumours were flying that you trashed a hotel room, because you were
put as a last resort on the Wild Card match. Are these allegations
true?

Shade: Allegations are just that. My residence is not in some building,
just the street where they call my name, the streets which I only
know.

MM: I'd like to make it clear, Shade, that we never put you as a last
resort. In fact, we would've picked you over Joe Morningstar, but
Joseph called us for a shot first and we were in need of a top class
athlete at very short notice.

Shade: I was never welcomed to anything, anyways.. Why should I care
now? Caring just brings more hurt, and more pain to my world.

MM: When did you strat grappling?

Shade: When did the sky turn blue? It's a question of time, which is
not in the presence of me.

MM: If wrestling wasn't the profession you were doing, what would be,
then?

Shade: I wouldn't be doing, I would be watching... watching others walk
around lost, the way I watch now.. Who is someone to say, what
people do is right or wrong.. maybe profession, is just another
term for society's truth, maybe this is why we work today.

MM: Who's your favourite wrestler?

Shade: I seek no favourites, and pity those who seek to be.

MM: If you actually advance to the rumble, who will you be gunning for
to eliminate?

Shade: There is something about a name which just, brings a tear to my
soul. Steve Spector, a man I know, a man who denies his
knowledge of me. Steve, we've known each other, yet you envy my
ways, for I live in a world you once knew... YET YOU CAN NOT
ENTER NO MORE... Steve Spector, this is your destiny.. this is
my reality.. this is the NIGHT OF GLORY... and so the skies,
darkened, and so this is the truth... Don't hide behind a shadow,
for there is only one place, you must seek... home.

[Cut back to ringside, current time.]

JW: Well, Shade there is certainly willing to speak his mind, but as
we've seen in the past, everyone in that Wild Card match is more
than happy to do just that. Folks, as we are just a few moments
away from that match, let's take you to comments from a few of the
people involved.

[Scene opens outside of Steve Houston's Night of Glory locker room.You
can hear Notorious BIG's CD "Ready To Die" blaring in the background.
It's on track number 10, which is "Juicy". Night of Glory reporter James
Andrews knocks on Steves door. Steve yells for him to come in. Andrews
enters the room and sees Steve laid back in a love seat, with his usual
wrestling gear on.]

JA: Thanks a lot Steve for letting me get this one last interview with
you before the big match.

SH: Yeah, quit with the small talk and lets get right to the
subject.

JA: Okay, will do. Let me first ask, what do you think of the teams?

SH: Hahaha.....James, you've known me for awhile, and have interviewed
me many times before. You've seen some of the biggest moments both
good and bad of my career. But James, when you saw those teams
announced, you saw the biggest god damn conspiracy of my wrestling
career.

JA: What is that exactly suppose to mean?

SH: What that is suppose to mean is this....I am being screwed over.
Come on, I mean theres no way in hell that the best man in the
match, myself, should get stuck with the biggest three bums of the
match. Lets see who is all on my side? We got Shade, haha...never
heard of this joke. He'll be a real helluv alot a help, to me. I
haven't seen the guy yet the whole however many weeks I've been
getting ready for Night of Glory, and I wouldn't be surprised if the
worthless bastard doesn't show up for the match. Then I get stuck
with Frazer Fury. Ahh...who the hell is he? Then worst of all I get
stuck with Alan James. He has to be the worst fighter in not just
this whole match, but on the whole damn card. So as you can see
Chris Douglas is setting the biggest Legend of all time up for a
loss. But I'm not gonna let this conspiracy of his work. I'll just
simply, get rid of all my teammates, and all of the other team. I've
over came bigger and tough things then this before, and I garuntee
you that I end up in that Winners battle royal at the end of the
night.

JA: Wow. I actually thought you would be rather happy with the teams, I
mean, you do get to fight Lawrence Williams.

SH: Yeah, I fight that horrible excuse for a wrestler. But I also have
to fight a close friend of mine. I have to square off with Brass
Knuckles. Well BK, hopefully it won't have to come down to the two
of us, but if it does, may the best man win. And Knux, I don't plan
on losing. Hell more than likely we'll both survive in our first
match, and move on to the Winners battle Royal. Then for awhile
we'll be able to help each other. Now about you Williams, I don't
like you, and you don't like me. You know it and so does everyone
else, so don't be your usual bitch ass self. Be the "Confident" one
you say you are, and get in the ring with me.

JA: Well, there's not much time left 'til the big match, so I'll be on
my way. Good luck and thanks again for this interview.

SH: Yeah, I won't need the good luck, but everyone else on my team and
on the other team will, so make sure you say the same to them.

[Scene fades as Track number 12 on the CD "Me and My Bitch" just ends.
And Andrews leaves Steves locker room.]

[Cut back to commentator's booth.]

CD: Yet another one who claims it's a conspiracy, Worthington. Hell, if
I'd have let them all choose their own partners for this, they
probably still would have found *something* to whine about.

JW: Well, the legitimacy of your random picking of the teams has been
questioned a few times, but since I was there and actually picked
out a few of the names myself, I can *assure* you that *everything*
was above board.

CD: YEAH! Now if you can only back me up on my claim that I saw Elvis
riding a cigar shaped UFO, we'll be set!

JW: Oh brother. Folks, I've just got word that James Andrews is
standing by in the locker room area with Brass Knuckles. Let's take
you to that.

[Camera fades from inside Wembley Stadium and into the locker room area
where James Andrews and Brass Knuckles stand. Knuckles stares into the
camera with a calm look. Knuckles is wearing an all black "Up Your
Brass" t-shirt. The sleeves are cut off, leaving a shower of black
threads running down BK's arms. Along with this, Knuckles has on clean
blue jean shorts that stop just above the knee pads on his knees, and a
pair of black Nike sneakers. BK also has dark brown hair that is closely
shaven to the scalp and grey eyes that glimour in the bright lights. His
pearly white teeth go well with is neatly tanned skin and his cleanly
shaven face. His muscular body stands out, resembling that of Hunter
Hearst Helmsley.]

JA: So, Brass Knuckles, you're about to embark on possibly the toughest
match of your career with a place in the Night of Glory Battle Royal
up for grabs. What will be your game plan if you will, going into
that brutal Wild Card Survivors Match?

BK: Well, if I told you my damn game plan, I would be tellin' my
opponents now wouldn't I?

JA: That's certainly true, and talking of your opponents, what do you
think about them?

BK: Well, as for my opponents, I don't really know their styles and
abilities that much. There's Kiljoy, I hear he's great, but all I've
seen outta him is a huge jackass. Earlier on in the week I
challenged him to start the match off with me, leader vs. leader, I
hope he accepts. Now, Steve Houston and I are great friends but this
time we shall fight. And I'll take out anyone for the Trophy. Shade,
I've spoke my piece on Shade in the past. I don't like him. He's the
type that uses his troubled past to get by in life. Trying to make
everyone feel bad, well I sure as hell don't. And Alan James, he can
take his fake BK figure and shove it. I haven't the time for that
crap.

JA: And your team-mates? A cohesive unit is needed to win a match like
this. Do you believe that your team is able to work together,
despite the fact that you're, shall we say not on the best of terms
with all of them?

BK: Well, I've said it before and I'll say it again, my team mates are
nothing compared to Brass Knuckles, but for the time being, they're
all I got. Lawreance Williams, he isn't my type of guy: cocky,
confident, big headed. All the assets of a person that I HATE! But,
he's a damn partner. Sid Snow, hell, I just recently dragged him
throughout an arena in Japan. I left him bloody in the center of the
ring, so there's no love lose there. It seems that the only man I
can trust is Frazer Fury in this. As far is working together, well,
I will try. But I'm not making any promises to my team or these
fans. I will give it 110% tonight. I hope my team does as well. But
if not, I will take care of matters.

JA: So, what about when things change. Suppose you make it to that
battle royal. A different set of rules, and a different set of
wrestlers. Who will you be trying to take out in that one?

BK: Well that's hard to say. I don't have a clue of who is in the Battle
Royal, but I do have a man or two I would like in that match. A
couple of men I would like to get revenge off of.

JA: And they are?

BK: Well, first there is Steve Wallace, the man who defeated me in the
finals of the K-Cup tournament awhile back. Ever since then I wanted
a piece of him. Then there's Jeff Matthews, just by lookin' at him I
want to rip him up. So cocky. But if we ever meet, he won't be.

JA: Well, thank you Mr. Knuckles for your time. Back to you guys in
the stadium.

[Cut back to the commentator's booth. Chris is seen talking on a phone,
while Worthington and Masterson look on shocked.]

JW: (Sarcastically) The professionalism of Chris Douglas astounds me at
times.

CD: Quiet, Worthington! I'm talking to my lawyers. I'm trying to sort
out this Curtis and de Sade mess in a logical fashion. Now if
you'll just shut the hell up so I can concentrate, everything will
be fine.

JW: (Sarcastically) Oh, I'm soooooo sorry. We'll just hold up the show
for you, Chris.

CD: That's more like it!

JW: Well, folks, with the Wild Card Survivors Match just moments away,
let's take you to some comments from one of the favourites in that
match "Legacy" Paul Kiljoy.

['Night of Glory' backdrop, backstage]

[In front of us looms an imposing figure, imposing as in 'bright'.
Shiny, gold belts plaster the man known as Paul Kiljoy, a championship
placed for every extremity. His face shows a look of determination, one
that is surely ready for what will be a long haul for sure in the night
to come. He takes a few deep breaths and gears up for the speaking]

LEGACY: Alright, folks, here I am. I'm trained, I'm savvy, I look
_damn_ fine, and hell, I'm winnin' this thing.

[He rearranges one of his belts.]

LEGACY: Oh, don't let these silly ol' belts fool ya. I'm a _ton_
tougher than I look. [wink] Course, unless you've been stuck
in Brass Knuckles apartment for the last month, you'd know that
from watching me strut my stuff all over this damned place.
I've showed you all who's the king of the Golden Arches. I've
crammed more information about the best night-life activities in
this city than you can probably even remember. I've shown the
rest of you scrubs that I have to call my 'teammates' what the
hell it takes to win this thing. And now, the time for all the
gabbin' is done. Now, we get to see who's strategies pan out to
be the real thing. Kids, tonight we find out if Frenchy
Francine knew _exactly_ why she was screaming my name so loud.

[He throws up an arm]

LEGACY: Unlike some of the frauds in this business, this is where the
power lies, and tonight, not only will England be assured of
that, but the whole damn world gets to find out who 'Legacy'
Paul Kiljoy is. Ladies and gentlemen, the introduction won't
hurt too bad, but lemme tell ya, the road to the winnin' will.
Don't be ashamed though, when it's all said and done! You can
look on your video monitors at the _man_ in the ring, standing
above the last man that needed to go down, and say plainly to
yourself, 'Guy, it was neat that I could lose to help expand
that man's legend', or, 'Guy, I wish I could be like him', or,
'Hell, he's gonna get some tonight'.

[wink]

LEGACY: Saturday, September the fifth is going to mark two great marks
down in the history books of this sport. First, I'll be your
_first_ Night of Glory champion, and second ... well heck, I'll
still be undefeated.

[turns to leave]

LEGACY: 'Night of Glory', tonight, you're gonna see why I'm called the
'Legacy'. Let it live on, brothers!

[Cut back to ringside.]
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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______________________________________________________________
| _ __ ______ |
| / | / /___ / ____/ |
| / |/ / __ \/ /___ WILD CARD SURVIVORS MATCH |
| / /| / /_/ / /_/ / |
| /_/ |_/\____/\____/ |
| "AN EVENING OF STARS" Writer: Creed |
|______________________________________________________________|

[Ring announcer Mark Edwards steps into the ring, as a few expectant
cheers arise, waiting for the next set of wrestlers to be heralded.]

Mark Edwards: The following contes is a Wild Card match: an eight-man
tag team match, under elimination rules! Once a competitor has been
pinned, forced to submit, counted out, or disqualified, he can no longer
compete!

[Minor cheers from the crowd in reaction to the announcement. The view
pans across a section of the stadium, where signs, banners, and T-shirts
are held aloft. Soon all eyes focus on the entrance to the ring, where
clear glass paneling blocks the view into the backstage area. The house
lights flicker, dim a bit, then wink out completely, causing gasps from
the crowd.]

MM: Chris, you _did_ pay the electric bill for this place, right?

CD: Of course I did. It's _your_ salary that I'm considering
withholding.

[A silhouette of a man is seen through the glass, illuminated from
behind, the shape of the man as one who is anxious and eager for
competition. Smoke begins to seem into the aisleway from the ramp, a
red spotlight tinting the haze a crimson colour, adding mystique to the
moment. Suddenly the glass shatters, the crowd cheers, "Tire Me" by
Rage Against The Machine blasts out of the loudspeakers, and a scattered
chant of KNU-CKLES! KNU-CKLES! starts from those fans in the know.]

Mark Edwards: Our first competitor, representing Team Number One, hails
from Philedelphia, Pennsylvania. He is a man who has held championships
all over the world, well known to many as the toughest man to walk the
streets of Philly. He has earned his moniker by proving himself to be
as tough as the name he carries. Standing 6-foot-4, weighing 259
pounds, here is BRAAAASS KNUCKLLLLES!

[The man, illuminated by a flickering white laser light, strides to the
ring, his dark brown ponytail of hair bouncing with each step. His
faded grey eyes provide a stark contrast to his tanned skin, and his
pearly white teeth gleam in the light. His muscular body, decorated
with a "BK" tattoo on his left bicep, is covered by a "Hardcore Cafe"
T-shirt and blue jean shorts, with knee pads as protection. He slips
into the ring, resting in his team's corner as the lights return and the
music fades out.]

MM: Now, will his tag team partners be disqualified for using Brass
Knuckles?

CD: I suppose you think you're funny for catching an easy joke.

MM: I suppose if you had said it, it would have actually been funny?

CD: Of course, it's all in the delivery!

Mark Edwards: Representing Team Number Two, from Austin, Texas,
wrestling in over twenty promotions and holding four seperate World
Championships, he has brought himself up from a member of a street gang
to a professional athlete, one of the most widely known figures in
wrestling today. At 6-foot-3 and 245 pounds, here is STEEEEVE
HOUUUUSTON!

[The sinister sounds of "More Human Than Human" haunt the arena, and
Houston strides down the ramp, with a pair of pyrotechnic bursts
welcoming him. His black trunks have "Best" written across the back in
gold, while his black boots have gold letters that spell "Champ." He
walks to the ring, ready for wrestle, and he raises his arms to the fans
who boo him, flicking his middle fingers out in response. Houston spits
out some vile language which, fortunately, the camera doesn't quite pick
up.]

MM: Was he talking about a sand-wich, or a sunny beach, I couldn't tell.

CD: He said, please censor me so nobody has to hear my cheap attempts to
get heat.

JW: Heat? I didn't think it was cold in here.

CD: Never mind.

["2nd Round KO" from Cannibus begins to play, and the boos start from
those who recognize the music and the man it precedes. He walks down
the entrance ramp, wearing long black tights and boots, though a brace
is visible underneath the trunks on his right knee. His dark skin
shines a bit under the overhead lights, noticeable just before he pauses
halfway down the ramp.]

Mark Edwards: The next member of Team Number One is a heavyweight
championship contender in several organizations, as well as the
president of the EMWO, he is a self-made man with many accolades in his
reputation! From Chicago, Illinois, standing 6-foot-4 and weighing 229
pounds, he is the conqueror, the cocksure, the confident - he is
"CONFIDENT" LAWRENNNNCE WILLIAAAAMS!

[A cannonade explodes behind him, startling the fans and making more
than a few women scream, though Williams simply laughs. He calmly walks
to the ring, stepping through the upper ropes, and walking to the center
of the mat, closing his eyes to block out the boos from the crowd. He
"raises the roof" with his hands held palm-up high overhead, and columns
of flame burst from each ringpost! As the fire dies out, Lawrence
wanders to his corner, nodding acknowledgment to Brass Knuckles.]

JW: Williams has great technical skills, he'll certainly be an asset to
his team.

MM: I understand Lawrence Williams is scheduled to wrestle a retirement
match this weekend.

CD: Well, when you have nowhere to go, you might as well retire.

Mark Edwards: Our next challenger for Team Number Two, is a man of
mystery. his origin is unknown. His quest is unknown. His methods are
ruthless, a means to an end which is unknown. Coming from the dark
alleys, standing 6-foot-4 and weighing 253 pounds, here is SHAAAADE!

[Lurking out from a darkened entrance, Shade creeps out and down the
walkway, while "Black No. 1" from Type O Negative spooks out many of the
fans. He is dressed in black boots, black shorts, and a black T-shirt
with the word "Why?" written in dripping blood-red color. His black
hair is back in a tail, and black sunglasses cover his eyes. The fans
aren't sure what to make of him, and the crowd noise is rather quiet.]

CD: So where did we get this Dark Shadows reject? Did he escape off the
set of Blade?

MM: Is it just me, or do you get the feeling his favourite colour is
black?

["More Human Than Human" starts to play once more, and the audience
quiets, thinking it to be a mistake. But they react in surprise as the
stages bursts into flames, and a lowered platform rises to bring
"Suidice" Sid Snow into sight as the fire dies out.]

Mark Edwards: Team One's next member has worked in several independant
leagues, this after his participation in Japanese shootfighting matches.
He has mastered psychology from his studies at Penn State University and
uses his mental training along with his physical training to rise above
the competition. From Montreal, Quebec, at 5-foot-10 and 229 pounds,
this is "SUICIDE" SIIIID SNOOOOW!

[Snow steps off the platform amidst cheers from the spectacular
entrance, but they go unheeded as he steadily stalks toward the ring.
Sid wears long black wrestling tights, a blue half-cut shirt, and
combats boots. As he reaches the ring steps, he raises his hands
overhead, looking skyward, and a single spotlight focuses on him. It
follows him into the ring, then fades out as he waits in the corner with
his teammates, the music fading out as well.]

CD: We're spending a fortune on all these elaborate ring entrances.
Doesn't anyone remember the old days, where the wrestler just walked
out, maybe had a song playing?

MM: Did you notice Sid Snow is the smallest man in the ring? At 5'10",
he's practically a dwarf.

JW: That would make Alan James a virtual giant at 6'9".

Mark Edwards: From Chicago, Illinois, our next participant has lived
the rock-and-roll life after earning quiet a reputation in an amateur
wrestling background. A former Intercontinental Champion and currently
wrestles for the EMWC and MCW promotions. He stands at 6-foot-9, 280
pounds, he is...

[The beginning sounds of "Runnin' With The Devil" kick onto the P.A. As
the car horn fades, the base begins its part. Then, the strings of the
guitar are strummed behind the nut, creating a sound similar to glass
breaking. As the guitar section begins..]

Mark Edwards: "JAAAAMIN" ALAN JAAAMES!

[The deafening sound of the crowd's reaction from the lack of appearance
drowns out the blaring music. The boos are so overwhelming that though
a few fans in the crowd are seen cheering, but they remain unheard.]

Mark Edwards: (clearing his throat) ALAN JAAAMES!

[Alan James has still not appeared at the entrance way]

CD: Move on. The jerk doesn't want to show up, then he ain't wrestling.
I'm certainly not going to stop the show because some moron missed
his flight.

[Edwards tugs his collar, looking flustered. He listens to an unseen
voice, cocking his head to the side for a moment, then nodding his
head.]

Mark Edwards: The final representative for Team Number One, his
high-speed style of wrestling, blended with Mexican Lucha Libre
wrestling skills, along with experience in Japanese "Peroresu," he
From San Diego, California, weighing 237 pounds, and standing 6-foot-1,
this is FRAAAAZER FUUURY!

[The Deftones play "My Own Summer (Shove It)" over the stadium speakers,
but after an extended moment, still no one has arrived at the ring
entrance. The anger from the fans wells up, the stadium full of heavy
booing. Many fans pelt the entrance and the announcing booth with
trash, and security has to drag several of the unruly patrons out.]

CD: This is ridiculous.

JW: Are they trying to be fashionably late?

MM: They certainly won't get a paycheque if they can't be bothered to
show up.

CD: No paycheque? I'm thinking along the lines of "Breach of Contract"
lawsuits!

Mark Edwards: (nervously continuing) And the final competitor in this
match retained the MCW Heavyweight championship for three months, and
now wrestles all over the world. He claims to be creating history with
each match, sending his name into the anals of professional wrestling
history. From Boston, Massachusettes, standing 6-foot-3 and weighing in
at 244 pounds, he is the Midwest Legend! Here is the "LEGACY" PAUUUUL
KIIIILJOY!

["Born to Rule" from Queensryche plays over the loudspeakers, and Paul
Kiljoy bursts through the curtains as the crowd reacts to his arrogance.
His short blond hair, not much more than shaven, covers his head, and
blue eyes shine with overwhemling arrogance. He wears black tights and
a sequened cape with the word "Legacy" across the back. Championship
belts from various promotions lay over his shoulders and are strapped
around his waist, setting off a permanent glow from his presence. Paul
enters the ring, raises the title in the air, before showing them to the
camera.]

Kiljoy: Don't you wish you were this good!

CD: I _am_ that good, I just don't have to justify it by waving around
little pieces of gold-plated tin on leather straps!

MM: So you don't have titles?

CD: You're missing the points, the titles I _do_ have don't need to be
waved around like a flag. Excellence is self-defining.

MM: Can I quote you on that?

CD: Ask my promoter.

JW: All right, folks, the referee has directed each man to his own
corner, and it looks like we'll have Shade and Brass Knuckles to
start this match tonight.

[Shade and Knuckles locked up immediately, and Knuckles pushed him off,
getting a small, but favorable, reaction from the crowd. Again the two
men approached, Shade attempting a body slam, but Knuckles instead gave
him a head butt for his troubles. Shade shook it off, and again the two
men entered the collar-and-elbow tie-up. Shade slipped into position
for a vertical suplex, but Knuckles blocked it with his foot between the
legs of Shade. Knuckles tried to reverse the suplex, but Shade blocked
it the same way. Then Shade switched position, and surprised Knuckles
with an inverted atomic drop that looked less than legal.]

JW: The referee quick to warn Shade about those illegal moves.

CD: I say let him. We didn't want to see any little Knuckles running
around anyway.

[Shade grabbed Knuckles by the hair, took a running step, and drove his
head down to the mat. Knuckles was momentarily stunned, long enough for
Shade to pull him up for the previously prevented body slam. Following
up with a quick leg drop across the neck, Shade went back to work,
hauling up Knuckles and delivering a drop kick to his knee. The brawler
went down on his other knee for support, and Shade hauled him up for a
reverse neckbreaker!]

JW: Shade going right to work, this dark man of mystery. And he's going
for an early pinfall!

One!

Tw -- kickout!

[Knuckles was hauled up and given an Irish whip hard into the
turnbuckles, and Shade charged for a clothesline, but Knuckles ducked
underneath, delivering a clothesline of his own that got the crowd
cheering! Knuckles hooked up Shade for a snap suplex that left the
brawler in position to tag in his teammate, "Suicide" Sid Snow.
Immediately, Snow went for the leg of his opponent, twirling into a
rolling anklelock. Shade let out a quiet screech from the pain, but
wasn't ready to give up, instead trying to reach back for the ropes to
get a break on the hold.]

MM: Good team effort there by Knuckles - that's something both teams
will have to remember, and put those egos aside.

JW: Referee calling for the break, and Snow with a downward kick to the
midsection before relinquishing the anklelock.

[Snow pulled up the same leg he had worked on, delivering a sharp kick
into the back of the thigh, then another, and a third. He rolled
forward with a leg snap, watching as Shade clutched the weakened knee.
Next, Sid pulled up Shade but got a rake to the eyes, leaving just
enough time for Shade to lift Snow up for a backbreaker on his undamaged
knee. Taking a moment to shake off the wear, Shade returned to his
attack by tossing Snow on his shoulder, then taking a step forward for a
powerslam.]

CD: Do we have any garlic handy? I just have this sick feeling Shade
wants to bite someone's neck.

JW: Shade pulling up Snow, but Snow twists the arm into a hammerlock,
stepping behind, and Shade reverses that with a snapmare take-over,
right into a chinlock.

[Sid wasted no time in getting back to his feet, using a snapmare to
bring Shade over, but he turned to land on his feet, and whipped Snow
back to the mat with an arm drag, right into an arm bar. Again, Snow
got back to his feet, hip tossing Shade right into his own arm bar!]

JW: Sid Snow showing his mastery of submission holds and their escapes.

MM: You're not going to beat a submission specialist with those kinds of
holds, and certainly not this early in the match.

[Snow used the arm as leverae to turn Shade on his side, placing a knee
in his back to increase the effect of the hold. Shade flailed wildly
trying to escape the pain, finally twisting and rolling up to his knee,
hooking a leg and toppling Snow to the mat. However, Sid brought up his
other boot and shoved Shade back with it, both men getting to their feet
to face each other in a defiant stare.]

JW: Apparently a stalemate at this juncture, they're come back to a
vertical base to start again.

MM: Good mat wrestling by both men, it's a nice change from everyone
trying to power bomb people through tables these days.

CD: Right, you have to save that for the big ratings boost at the end of
the match.

[Both men came forward for a collar-and-elbow tie-up, but Shade dropped
low, head-butting Snow in the midsection, then delivering a jawbreaker
that stunned the smaller man, before Shade clotheslined him out of the
ring. But the fans cried out when Shade ran and flew through the ropes
for a suicide dive, right into Snow on the outside!]

JW: What a move! Shade came through those ropes like a bullet!

MM: Great aerial work by this unusual wrestler.

JW: And a cheap shot by Steve Houston, kicking Snow in the back of the
head!

CD: Hey, do what you have to - winning is, after all, everything.

[Snow turned to face Houston, still on the apron, and Shade came from
behind to shove him into the ringpost. Sid staggered back two steps,
and Steve Houston dropped down with a flying clothesline that planted
Snow into the mat. The referee had now slid out of the ring to try to
restore order, directing Houston back to the apron and out of the fray.
Meanwhile, Shade whipped Snow into the guardrail, delivering a forearm
shot that landed flush on the jaw of the submission specialist.]

JW: "Suicide" Sid Snow taking a real beating outside the ring! Shade is
giving him no quarter, ramming his head into the steel steps!

CD: At the rate he's going, suicide might be Snow's best option.

[The referee had started a count, but Shade broke it by rolling Snow
back into the ring, stomping him as he lay on the canvas. He pulled up
Sid again, whipping him into the corner. Strangely, Shade fell to his
knees and looked skyward, before standing up to charge in for a dropkick
to Snow's knees, knocking him back into the turnbuckles. Shade followed
with a snap mare, bringing Snow to the center of the ring. Lifting him
up and hooking an arm around Sid's neck, Shade drove him down into the
canvas with a picture-perfect DDT!]

MM: Snow's taken quite a beating.

CD: I think he's about to melt.

JW: Shade comes to his corner for a tag - and Steve Houston comes down
off the apron!

MM: Guess he's not ready to fight against an unconscious man.

JW: The only person there for the tag is Paul Kiljoy.

MM: And he tagged him all right!

JW: Shade nails Kiljoy with a big right hand after the tag! He's
bringing Kiljoy in over the top rope, and stomping him all over,
right there on the mat!

CD: Maybe he can't figure out which team he's on.

JW: Kiljoy gets a DDT from Shade as well! The crowd is letting him know
what they think of him!

[Boos echo throughout the arena at the display of poor sportsmanship.]

JW: Kiljoy IS the legal man in the ring against Snow, but both men are
dazed!

CD: And confused.

JW: Shade goes to the outside, he's got a chair!

MM: The ref is going to want any - what the?

CD: I guess it's time for his coffee break, must be in his union
by-laws.

JW: Shade taking a seat, away from the ring.

MM: Does he think he can just sit in that chair while the rest of the
match goes on?

JW: Apparently so, and the crowd doesn't like this!

MM: _I_ don't like this!

[Kiljoy tried to orient himself after the sudden beating, working his
way up to one knee. He spotted Snow, also getting back up, but Sid was
headed for a tag. Kiljoy lunged for the leg of Sid Snow, pulling him
back by the ankle. Thinking quickly, Paul stepped over the leg, turning
around, and locking in the figure-four leglock! Snow immediately
reacted from the pain, still suffering from the assault out of the ring
by Shade.]

JW: Great move from Paul Kiljoy, folks, and Snow is stuck in the middle
of the ring, nowhere near the ropes.

MM: Here comes Brass Knuckles!

JW: Knuckles stomping on Kiljoy, even though the referee is quick to
chase him out of the ring, the effects of the interference already
felt. Kiljoy has released the hold, and Snow makes the tag to
Lawrence Williams, who comes into the match for the first time.

[Williams went right to work on the leg of Kiljoy, locking the knee
around Lawrence's own thighs, and slamming it to the mat with the
kneebreaker drop. The "Legacy" quickly sat up, clutching at his leg.
But Williams went to work, dragging Kiljoy to the ropes, and laying the
injured knee across the bottom rung, before dropping his weight down on
it. Kiljoy reeled, rolling back to the middle of the ring. Williams
pulled up his opponent, folding the leg under for a kneebreaker, but
Paul got free with a poke in the eye that the referee couldn't see from
his position.]

MM: I believe the quote is "Win if you can, Lose if you must, but always
cheat."

[Kiljoy shook out his leg, restoring a bit of feeling to it, then went
back to the attack with a quick vertical suplex. Taking another moment
to work the kinks out, Paul Kiljoy continued with a bodyslam that left
Williams in the middle of the ring. Stepping back, he rolled forward to
snap the neck of the "Confident" one, and Lawrence fell back to the
canvas. Following up with a crisp belly-to-back suplex, Kiljoy went for
a quick cover.]

One!

Two!

Kickout!

[Kiljoy pulled up Williams again, but Lawrence surprised him by hooking
the knee, and delivering a kneebreaker! Still holding the leg, Williams
turned it into a Russian leg sweep, stepping over and falling back. The
crowd cheered him on as he struggled to make the tag, Brass Knuckles
eager to come in. Kiljoy lunged but was too late, and Knuckles charged
into the ring, knocking his opponent onto his back.]

JW: Here comes Brass Knuckles, the crowd is really taking a liking to
him!

MM: He's intense, that's for sure.

JW: And.. WHAT'S THIS?!

[As one, the crowd all jump to their feet, looking towards the entrance
as it suddenly lights up again. As the opening strains of "Runnin' With
The Devil" kick onto the P.A, a lot of confused chattering is heard from
the stands.]

CD: THAT SON OF A BITCH!

JW: Control yourself, Chris!

[From behind the curtain, each carrying a black steel chair, step
"Jammin" Alan James and Frazer Fury. James wears a full black wrestling
suit, with fire licking up his legs and boots. Across his chest,
"Jammin" is smoked in red and purple. He wears a set of black knee pads,
with "JAJ" written on them in red. Covering his elbows is a red set,
with "PoA" written in black. His brown hair drops low, sitting on his
shoulders.]

[Alan smirks, and points sideways to Frazer Fury, who looks as he
usually does. He has on black full-length tights, with a somewhat thick
silver waistband, silver designs of some odd sort on his tights, black
shinpads, and black leather boots which go to his knees. His caramel
blonde hair is immaculate, and a pearly white grin is fixed on his
handsome, golden brown tanned face.]

[Alan walks, almost strutting, down the isle, pointing at various fans
who seem way too involved. He then turns towards a irate Chris Douglas,
and raises his right arm, flashing a massive bicep pose.]

CD: Hell, if those morons want to show how incompetent they are at
speaking before they prove their lack of worth in the ring, that's
their business.

[Alan removes a microphone which sat stuck out of his boot.]

James: I'd take a seat if I were you, fat man.

[The fans boo James very loudly.]

CD: [VO] I see you're blind as well as stupid if you're talking to me.
First off, it's you who had the extra delivery of Big Macs
today, porky, and second off, if you really are talking to me,
I'm sitting down already, jackass.

James: You see, you may be hiding your absolute exultance now, just
'cause I decided to show up and MAKE this event, but you ain't
foolin' no one. All through the show, with you blabbin' on about
just how I'm gonna show up to your event, because I need
attention. Damn straight, Douglas. I need attention. Every
wrestler needs attention, just to make it. But I'll let you in on
a little secret..

I don't need NOTHIN' from you.

Throughout this entire run, I made your little event interesting.
The undercard match was the best thing you've had going, and
that's all because of me. So you sit down and SHUT UP before I
take this chair and knock it upside your head.

[Mixed reaction from the stands, some booing James, some cheering his
anti-establishment stance.]

CD: [VO] Come on over here then. I dare you.

[James ignores him, turning instead to the ring.]

James: As for you scuzz buckets in the ring, I think it's about time you
backed off, and let that ever present spotlight shine on its
master for just a lil' bit. Fraze, I think I'm gonna go scare me
up some jabrones, what do you say?

[Alan points at the wrestlers in the ring, and tosses the microphone to
Frazer Fury. Alan charges the ring, swinging the chair madly, and slides
under the ropes, clearing all men out of the ring]

FF: You see...none of you are quite worthy of wrestling me... But
that'll be explained later.

James: Well lookie here, Frazah, it seems that the Wildcard match has
been kind enough to roll out the red carpet, and stand aside
while the masters of the sport have a go.

FF: They're good people...

James: I don't know about those guys down there, but as they say here in
England-

FF: (In a quirky little English accent) Oh my goodness, Frazah Fury, why
don't any English men give me such pleasure?

CD: [VO] I thought it was, 'Why are Americans hung like chihuahuas?'

[Frazer smirks, and Alan chuckles]

James: Naw, that's only for the stewardesses. They don't call them the
friendly skies for nothin!

[Laughs, chuckles, and cheers from the crowd.]

James: And when you're stars of _our_ stature, still climbing, yet
miles above Chris Douglas.. every place seems to get more and
more friendly. Take, for instance, the office of Chris Blue..

Frazer: Chris said we need to take the garbage out.

James: And that garbage.. is you, Sid Snow.

[A look of rage appears on Snow's face, and he scowls from the heckling
fans]

James: Ever since that monstrous beating which I laid on you in your
debut, it seems that your wrestling services.. just.. haven't..
been up to par. Chris Blue asked me and Frazer to come out here,
and end any ideas that maybe.. just maybe.. he was only kidding.

CD: [VO] How can you fire a man who's already left the organisation?

James: Sid Snow, because of your failure to adequately compete, the EMWC
has fired you. Now, that's something Blue usually likes to do in
private, but he took a special exception in your case. For a
wrestler who's "Wasted the EMWC's time and Money," and "Done
nothing but whine about being stuck in a debut match with the one
and only Alan James" he takes exception. And.. Sid Snow.. because
of your poor representation here at Night of Glory, he takes
exception.

And that's where me and Frazer step in.

CD: [VO] And just what is it you two losers _are_ stepping in?

[Alan walks towards the ropes, where Sid Snow stands outside of the
ring. Snow's face tempered with rage is seemingly what Alan wanted to
see, as he cracks a large smile]

James: Sid, I got my start in the NWC. But.. I got my NAME in the EMWC.

CD: [VO] What name?

James: Although me an' Chris may butt heads occasionally,

CD: [VO] (quickly interjecting) James admits he's a butt head?

James: ...he knows that the EMWC is one of the few things I respect. And
that Sid Snow isn't. And when someone defiles something I respect
with their presence ALONE, it makes me very angry. Almost as
angry as I am at tubbo up there. But, there is a time and a place
for everything.

CD: [VO] So how about now? I'm calling you down here now, James!

[Alan points his right index finger at Snow, not paying attention to
Douglas, while Frazer points his chair at the wrestlers on the opposite
side of the ring, fending them off]

James: I know you're trying to get that small brain around to organizing
a tournament. I also know that Chris "Friiied Chicken" Douglas is
supposed to be there.

CD: [VO] You're calling me a chicken, and you're the one who's too
afraid to come down here and fight it out with me like a man?

James: Maybe then, I'll get to pummel him into the mat. But not tonight.

CD: [VO] Yeah, I guess you are helping the lighting staff by standing in
the ring with the light reflecting off of that yellow streak running
down your back.

James: Not when I get the chance to force him to hand over that trophy.
Force him to say my name as the victor. Ever think how that's
gonna feel, chunky?

[Douglas sits calmly in his chair and speaks]

CD: [VO] If you're talking to me, I'd never really thought about it.
One of you two are my pick to be first eliminated. Hell, I'm
shocked you plucked up the courage to come out here.

James: But tonight, tonight's the time where I beat you once again,
Snow. Cause as soon as you step through the ropes, wetness
already leaking down your legs, you're gonna realize that there's
only one.. way.. down!

[Frazer taps Alan on the shoulder. Alan turns around and looks at him,
and Alan smiles.]

James: Seems like I been neglecting Frazer a bit. I'll let him take the
mic now.

CD: [VO] I'm sure you'll make up for it after the show.

[Huge crowd response from the people who can hear Douglas in his area.
In the ring, Alan grins, and hands Frazer the microphone.]

FF: Y'know I sat back on my laurels and watched some of you losers,
hasbeens, and never will bes piss and moan about how "Ewww, I've
never heard of any of you freaks, why do I have to team with yooou?"
Ah, shut the hell up.

[The crowd seems a bit uneasy, quieting down with a hint of
indifference.]

FF: I don't know who most of you idiots are either. Paul Kiljoy? Some
guy that hangs out at McDonald's, and when the camera shuts off,
probably works there. Shade? It's where I sit when the sun is
making me dizzy, not a wrestler. Sid Snow..?

[Frazer chuckles.]

FF: You got fired from two feds and damn near killed in one of them.
You're pathetic.

[The other wrestlers wait impatiently for his ramblings to finish.]

FF: As for Brass Knuckles...he's the one guy in this whole thing that
has showed me some respect...

[The crowd is obviously confused.]

FF: He commended my intelligence, and I must say, he was right..

[Still confusion.]

FF: He seems like a really great guy...

[Now the fans are just totally lost, and their voices can be heard,
discussing exactly what the hell is going on...]

FF: ....if only he didn't suck so incredibly much. And not only sucking
up to me, outright sucking. You know, like he's not good. Really,
really not good. IF I were filling out one of those surveys that
homeless looking guy gives you when you're about to leave the home
office store, and Brass Knuckels was that store, I'd rate him
"Poor". Do you get the gist of it?

[Brass Knuckles displays a middle finger, and the crowd cheers wildly
him on.]

FF: I took a look at the "talent", or lack thereof that surrounded me in
his match. I mean, c'mon people, it's myself and Alan.

CD: [VO] You're saying that you and Alan are the lack of talent?

FF: The rest of these guys...well, they're hoes!

CD: [VO] They're garden tools?

FF: So I'm thinking to myself, "Frazer...what in the name of Gary
Coleman are you doing in this match? This is all
up-and-comers-that-will-fall-flat-soon, and you're...well, not."
And I made a decision... But I'll get to that later. Take it away,
Alan.

James: So ladies and gentlemen, turn up that volume and for the love of
God, don't get up off of that couch, because tonight you're going
to have to watch Chris Douglas hand me his trophy, tears
streaming down his face. And now that me and Frazer have allied
ourselves, it's a face you better get used to.

[Alan smirks, and nods to Frazer, who nods back. He lifts his chair,
pointing it at the referee. The referee, fearing for his own life,
shakes his head wildly, and has his hands out straight, trying to get
Frazer to stop. Fury raises his hand, waiting for a reaction. He does it
again, and gets the same results. He winds back... And NAILS the
referee right on top of his head, crushing the metal weapon against his
skull. Out of instinct, the timekeeper rings the bell for the
disqualification that will eventually be officially confirmed.]

FF: F [The crowd's screaming drowns Frazer out for a second] K YOU
LOSERS!

[Frazer climbs through the ropes, and goes to the back, allowing the
match to continue.]

JW: What a bizarre turn of events!

CD: What a bunch of grandstanding nobodies.

MM: Who is THAT?

[From over the guardrail, a slender young man clad in a green and white
singlet, with a mask of matching color shrouding his face, vaults in the
aisleway, the force of the leap knocking Frazer down face-first on the
concrete. Shocked, he stands up and stops cold on sight of the
newcomer. This interloper shoves Frazer, who is still in shock from the
surprise.]

JW: Who IS this man?!

CD: I don't know, but I like him already.

MM: The Banshee!

CD: The Whatshee?

MM: They have a long-standing feud, I thought he looked familiar!

CD: Whoever he is, he's got my blessing to beat Frazer like the
proverbial red-headed stepchild.

[The two men argued as Fury finally recovered from the surprise. After
some light shoving, both wrestlers were nose to nose yelling at each
other, and event security quickly arrived to seperate them, forcing the
two warring opponents down the walkway and back toward the locker rooms.
Meanwhile, back at the ring, Alan James stands proudly for his
'accomplishment', only to receive a clothesline from behind!]

JW: Steve Houston! He just nailed his own teammate, Alan James!

CD: Justice is a beautiful thing.

JW: Houston is all over Alan James, stomping the big man! Here comes
Sid Snow back in the ring, he's helping the attack on James - and
Houston nails him with a clothesline as well!

MM: What's with Shade? He's still sitting in that chair like he's a
spectator. Doesn't he get it?

CD: It looks like he's about to _get it_.

JW: Paul Kiljoy, clearly angry with Shade, levels him with a huge front
kick that knocked him right out of his seat!

CD: And probably his boots, too.

JW: Here's a high-angle power bomb, and Kiljoy just BURIED him onto the
chair!

MM: Which was already on the concrete floor! That'll teach you!

JW: We've got officials coming out from the backstage area, finally
trying to restore some order.

MM: They look more like the Keystone Kops.

CD: About as effective. I doubt this motley crew would pay too much
attention to a man in a striped shirt.

MM: (in a scratchy, childish voice) "You will respect my authorita!"

CD: You watch too much television. It rots the brain.

[Finally the referees got between people, restoring some order.
Officials arrived to assist the injured referee to the back, and another
one stepped in to fill his shoes. The two teams reorganized themselves
to their respective corners: while Team One had Lawrence Williams and
Sid Snow on the apron calmly waiting, Team Two saw anger and
disorganization. Shade was out cold on the floor, James was shaking off
the blows he took from Houston, who stood a distance away ready to
deliver more punishment, and Kiljoy smuly stepped into the ring to do
once again battle with Brass Knuckles.]

JW: What a disaster for Team Two, but Kiljoy ready to represent his team
against the formidable Brass Knuckles.

MM: The true irony is the fact that Kiljoy's team outnumbers the
opponents four to three!

[They locked up for a heartbeat, before Kiljoy whipped Knuckles to the
ropes, but the brawler responded with a running knee lift, pulling
Kiljoy down into a sitting chinlock. Paul tried pulling the strong arms
of the brawler away, but to no avail. Instead, he worked his way back
to his feet, bringing Knuckles up to a standing position as well. A
jawbreaker turned the tide, and a clothline floored Brass Knuckles.]

JW: Paul Kiljoy showing some ring smarts, and now he's looking to tag in
a teammate.

MM: Who?! Nobody on that side of the ring knows how this match works!
One guy shows up late and berates everyone, the other two run away
from the match. And Shade's still out cold on the stadium floor!

[Houston and James, still arguing at their corner, paid no attention to
the match, and didn't see Kiljoy coming over for a tag. Kiljoy slapped
the chest of Steve Houston, who had tried so hard to keep from entering
the match. The referee declared it a legal tag, and order Houston into
the ring, and Kiljoy held the ropes open with a smug grin. The crowd
booed loudly, as the frustrated Houston was forced to get in the ring
and compete.]

CD: Poetic justice.

MM: I think I saw a movie by that name once.

CD: You did?

MM: Best weekend - ah, never mind.

[Knuckles went right after Houston, the two men exchanging punches in
the middle of the ring. The referee shouted out a warning for using the
closed-fist blows, but it went unheeded. However, a sterner warning
came when Houston delivered a sharp kick that was definitely illegal.]

Crowd: Ohhhh!

[Brass Knuckles doubled over from the low blow, and Houston rained down
punches until Knuckles fell to the canvas, then Houston dropped the fist
anyway. He pulled his opponent back up for a quick bodyslam, and drove
the point of his elbow down into the forehead of Knuckles. Again
brought to his feet, Knuckles was whipped into the turnbuckles, and
Houston rushed in with a clothesline. Another Irish whip sent Knuckles
into the ropes this time, a drop toe hold flooring the Philedelphian
before Houston dropped an elbow into the back of his head.]

JW: This is becoming a slugfest!

CD: Don't get too happy, the first technical grappler that gets a hold
of these guys will wrestle them into a pretzel.

[Houston drew up Knuckles, delivering a knee to the midsection. He
turned to face away, reaching up and behind him in preparation for the
Steve Houston Stunner, but Knuckles had the presence of mind to push him
forward into the ropes, holding on for a back suplex that left both men
stunned on the mat. The crowd chanted "KNU-CKLES! KNU-CKLES!" to
encourage him, and indeed the brawler got to his knees, scampering
slowly to his corner, tagging in Lawrence Williams to the crowd's
delight!]

JW: "Confident" Lawrence Williams, well-rested, takes over for his team,
and goes right to work with a Russian leg sweep on Steve Houston!

[A snap suplex followed, with Lawrence focused on his opponent.
Williams went from move to move quickly, first a swinging neck breaker,
then a powerslam off the ropes, and a release German suplex, leaving
Steve Houston holding his back in pain. Arms straight out in a crucifix
position, Lawrence enjoyed a moment of the crowd's cheering. But
Williams stayed on target, whipping Houston to the ropes for a standing
spinebuster, lifting Houston straight up in a bear hug, only to drive
him back down into the mat with authority!]

JW: He calls that the Confidence Crusher, and it's not far from wrong,
as Steve Houston is in a lot of trouble here!

MM: This could be the set-up for his patented Clutch of Confidence!

[Williams pulled Houston's head between his knees, wrapping his arms
around the waist of the Texan. Steve Houston was lifted up overhead,
then powerbombed to the mat. But Williams held on to the legs, bring
his own left leg between the two, then stepping over and turning Houston
onto his stomach, locking in the Indian Deathlock and sinching it in
tightly.]

JW: The Clutch of Confidence! It's locked in, right in the middle of
the ring! Houston has nowhere to go!

MM: Williams must have learned firearms on the streets of Chicago,
because he's a real Sharp Shooter, if you catch my drift.

CD: Yes, this hold caught Houston right between the thighs.

JW: The referee checking to see if Steve Houston wants to give up, but
he's trying to hang on. He hasn't been able to move toward the ring
ropes for a break.

CD: And none of his teammates want to help him out, either. Imagine
that.

MM: Could it have something to do that he attacks them and doesn't want
to be tagged in to wrestle?

CD: That's the smartest thing you've said all night!

JW: Houston still stuck in the middle of the ring, but the referee is
getting no response from him. He's checking for a submission, and
from this camera angle, it would appear Houston isn't saying whether
he wishes to fight on or submit to the hold!

CD: His small brain likely can't handle such an enormous decision.

JW: The referee is calling for the bell! It would appear he's going to
eliminate Steve Houston from this match!

MM: I didn't see Houston actual submit- anyone else?

CD: Since when do referees actually know how to call a match accurately?

Mark Edwards: Steve Houston has been eliminated at 21 minutes and 12
seconds. The teams are now at 3 members each!

JW: And folks, it looks like we're back to a fair fight!

MM: Seems to me that this fight would be a little closer to fair if Team
Two tried a little cooperation.

JW: Alan James stepping up to the plate, he'll come in for the first
time, the only man who hasn't wrestled tonight.

CD: With the exception of Frazer Fury, who isn't wrestling tonight.
But then, he isn't getting paid, either.

[James stepped in against Williams, the two men locking right up. Alan
James used his larger size and strength to shove Lawrence right off,
knocking him down. Williams, undaunted, got right back up only to
receive a forearm shot that knocked him down. James picked up his
opponent, lifting him overhead for a sharp backbreaker, holding the
position for a moment to apply pressure into Williams lower back.
Finally he shoved the African-American off his knee, dropping a big
elbow onto the chest as the referee slid into position for a pinfall
count.]

One!

Two!

Shoulder Up!

[James brought Williams up for an Irish whip into the turnbuckles, then
moved him to the center of the ring ropes, sending Lawrence across the
ring for a powerslam, crashing him down into the mat. He pulled
Williams back up, hefting him up into a bear hug, the big muscles of
Alan James going to work, tightening into Lawrence's lower back.
Williams struggled to escape, but James held him fast.]

JW: "Confident" Lawrence Williams is trouble here, "Jammin" Alan James
concentrating his efforts on the lower back. Folks, this could be
it for Williams.

MM: He may not even make it to that retirement match!

[The referee asked about a submission, but Lawrence just shook his head.
Fans clapped in encouragement, as Williams brought his arm up,
delivering a punch to James's head, then another, though without much
force due to the positioning of the two men. Alan tightened the hold,
then turned and crushed Williams with a spinebuster! The "Confident"
one was covered, and the referee made another count.]

One!

Two!

Thr -- Kickout!

[James pulled Williams up once more, whipping his across the ring to
level him with a big boot. But at the last possible moment, Lawrence
shifted his weight, catching the leg, as tossing Alan James over with a
dragon screw leg whip! The fans cheered wildly, encouraging Williams to
make the tag he desperately needed. He leaped out, just catching the
outstretched hand of "Suicide" Sid Snow, and the crowd went wild.
Across the ring, Paul Kiljoy wanted a tag, and Alan James made the
exchange as well.]

JW: Sid Snow back in for his team, and ready to do battle with "Legacy"
Paul Kiljoy!

MM: I'm telling you, Team One has the teamwork, they might just pull
this off!

JW: Kiljoy's looking to make a tag - to Shade?

MM: He's tagging in Shade all right. This guy barely found his way back
to the apron after Paul Kiljoy destroyed him on that folding chair.

CD: Payback is, after all, a fine art.

JW: The tag is made, Shade MUST enter the ring!

MM: And this guy can barely find the ring.

[Shade carefully stepped between the ropes, still trying to shake off
the painful effects of the power bomb. He took a moment to compose
himself, then turned around - right into Paul Kiljoy! A boot swung up
into his midsection, Shade doubled over in pain, and Kiljoy buried him
headfirst into the mat with a double-arm DDT! The crowd gave a shocked
surprise, booing Kiljoy as he kicked Shade sharply in the ribs before
stepping out of the ropes. The referee could do nothing more than watch
in shock as Shade rolled out of the ring, barely conscious.]

MM: Payback is a!

CD: (cutting him off) Fine Art. Watch the language, I don't care to be
paying fines for your lack of character. It's bad enough I have to
suffer all these immature people who think they are the next Andrew
"Dice" Clay.

JW: Shade is out of the ring, the referee making the count!

One!

Two!

Three!

[The fans join in the count.]

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

[Shade raises an arm weakly, but it falls again.]

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

[Shade rolls up to his knees, barely aware of his situation.]

NINE!

[He glances up at the referee, only too late realizing his position.]

TEN!

Mark Edwards: Eliminated by a countout after 27 minutes and 3 seconds,
Shade!

MM: Power play situation for Team One, they're still holding on, and now
all that stands between them and victory are "Legacy" Paul Kiljoy
and "Jammin" Alan James.

JW: Definitely an advantage here, as Paul Kiljoy is going to continue in
the ring, against Sid Snow. He surprises Kiljoy with a sudden right
hand punch, and now three more!

MM: According to my information, Snow's a former boxer.

CD: Psychologist. Wrestler. Shootfighter. Boxer. I suppose he does
windows, too.

[Snow scooped up Kiljoy for a brain buster suplex, driving his head into
the mat. Without hesitation, Sid went right into a fireman's carry on
Paul, tossing him over the side into a Death Valley Driver! The crowd
fully supported Snow, delighting in his unusual moves, as he continued
his assault on Kiljoy. Snow now straddled the back of the head of Paul
Kiljoy, who was on his knees. Hooking both arms, Snow lifted him up,
only to drive him into the mat, his full weight on his head and neck!]

JW: Tiger Driver '91!

MM: I can't remember the last time I've seen that move since my time in
Japan!

JW: Snow covering for the pinfall!

One!

Two!

[James came in, delivering a kick to the back of Snow's head. Brass
Knuckles started into the ring, but the referee stood in his way, trying
to protect order. However, behind the officials back, Alan James lifted
Snow up over head, delivering a wicked power bomb! He dragged Kiljoy
back to their corner, stepping out of the ropes. The referee managed to
convince Knuckles to return to his own corner, turning to see the legal
tag James made to Kiljoy, who re-entered the ring to continue an attack
on Sid Snow.]

JW: Clever move by "Jammin" Alan James.

MM: Maybe they've discovered teamwork after all!

CD: I think it's more like James trying to be a gloryhound.

[Sid Snow was hauled up by James, and he attempted an overhead press,
but Snow slipped behind him, hooking the neck for an inverted DDT! He
rolled the stunned Alan James onto his stomach, grabbed both legs
tightly, and lifted the big man back with a wheelbarrow suplex!]

JW: Great move!

MM: So was that a Snow-plex?

CD: Wrong guy.

[James tried to gain an advantage with a sharp punch into Snow's jaw,
then attempting a bodyslam, but again Sid slipped around, this time
right into a Dragon sleeper! The crowd, happy to see Alan James in a
predicament, cheered Snow as he held fast, not letting James escape.
Finally, the big man used his sheer strength to get to the corner,
pushing off the turnbuckles to spin himself around and out of the hold,
right into a bear hug on Snow! He hooked Snow around the neck with one
arm, then delivered a lethal cradle DDT!]

JW: Sid Snow was absolutely SPIKED into the mat with that move, he had
nowhere to go!

MM: I understand Snow has suffered several concussions in his career,
that move may have been particularly bad.

CD: Or good, if you're Alan James.

[Snow tried a gutwrench suplex on James, but didn't have enough energy
left to get the bigger man over. James stood up to his full height,
dropping Snow in a backdrop. Pulling Sid back up, Alan James reached
around with his right arm to hook the waist for a side slam. He rose
up, lifting Snow into a vertical position, almost up on James's
shoulder, then driving him back down to the mat, flat on his back, and
right into a pinning position!]

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Mike Edwards: Sid Snow has been eliminated by pinfall at 30 minutes and
49 seconds. Each team now has two members remaining!
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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JW: Alan James delivering his Atomic Side Slam to score the pinfall over
"Suicide" Sid Snow.

MM: Interesting move, it almost looked like an underhand powerslam.

CD: Either way, he might as well be "Homicide" Sid Snow, as that
cowardly punk Alan James managed to beat _somebody_ tonight.

JW: Lawrence Williams wants a piece of Alan James after their exchange
earlier!

[The "Confident" one came right in, delivering a knee lift to James's
midsection. He stepped behind, dropping Alan James with a leg sweep,
holding onto the leg, and torqueing it back, snapping the hamstring!
James yelled out in pain, but Williams stayed on him with a step-over
toe hold, twisting the knee. Alan James yelled out again, then used an
eye rake to get out of the lock.]

JW: Shortcut by "Jammin" Alan James, and I suspect he'll be looking to
tag out to "Legacy" Paul Kiljoy.

MM: Kiljoy looks like he's not wanting to support James too much.

JW: James uses those long arms and makes a quick tag, here comes Kiljoy!

[Paul Kiljoy surprised everyone by running to the other corner to knock
Brass Knuckles off the apron with a big roundhouse punch. Knuckles
charged right back into the ring, but again the referee cut him off.
James wanted Kiljoy to hold Williams for a big punch, but Lawrence moved
at the last moment, and Alan James hit his own teammate! Shocked, he
stepped back, just as Williams lunged forward to clothesline him out of
the ring!]

MM: I take back what I said earlier about Kilroy and James having
teamwork! They work together like Abbot and Costello!

JW: Kiljoy gets a big forearm shot in on the back of Lawrence Williams,
where Alan James had done so much damage earlier in the match.

[Kiljoy went to work with a double-underhook suplex, tossing Williams
back onto the mat. He brought Lawrence back up, moving behind him and
lacing his arms under Williams's shoulders and behind his neck, raising
him up for a full-nelson slam! The crowd tried to encourage Williams,
and it showed, as he tried to punch his way out as Kiljoy approached,
only to get a rake across his eyes. Kiljoy pulled him to the top rope,
dragging his face across the rope. Brass Knuckles had seen enough. He
charged into the ring and dropkicked Kiljoy back into the turnbuckles
before the refere chased him back out of the ring.]

JW: Brass Knuckles with a move that may have save his teammate Lawrence
Williams from Kiljoy and James.

MM: Now THAT'S the teamwork I've been talking about! Watching your
partner's back!

CD: Watching your partner's back, I might add, is a good way to prepare
to stab his there.

MM: Only you would come up with that remark.

[Williams tried a desperation running clothesline, but Kiljoy turned to
the side, catching Lawrence underneath, twisting him up over his
shoulder, then dropping him down into a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker.
Williams, already worn, tried to crawl toward his corner, only to have
Kiljoy wrap his arms around him, lifting him up with the waistlock,
right into a German suplex. Staying on target, Kiljoy pulled up the
African-American up by his head, hooking the arms for the double-arm DDT
that laid out Williams!]

CD: Doesn't look very Confident at the moment.

JW: Williams in trouble, that's the set-up for Kiljoy's signature move,
the Birthright!

MM: I don't he's got enough left in his tank to stop this.

CD: He may have to retire tonight, instead of fighting some bum.

JW: Paul Kiljoy has Williams sitting on the top turnbuckle, he hooks the
leg, now he hooks the neck. Fisherman Buster from the second rope!

MM: It's all over.

JW: Referee making the count:

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Mark Edwards: Eliminated by pinfall at 36 minutes and 41 seconds,
"Confident" Lawrence Williams!

MM: I've made a lot of jokes at his expense tonight, but I actually feel
a bit of sympathy for Brass Knuckles. He's the only one left
against Alan James and Paul Kiljoy!

JW: And here he comes with a vengeance!

[Brass Knuckles charged the ring, leveling Kiljoy with a hard
clothesline, then delivering another clothesline on the unaware Alan
James, knocking him off the apron! James tried to come in the ring,
only to be impeded by the referee, standing his ground. Meanwhile,
Knuckles charge Kiljoy as he was getting to his feet, tackling him with
a Thesz press and pummeling him with a flurry of swift right-hand
punches. He stood up to a huge ovation from the crowd, but paying no
attention, lost in the blaze of his temper.]

JW: Brass Knuckles on fire, tearing into Paul Kiljoy. He whips him to
the ropes, but hangs on to bring Kiljoy back around, right into a
short clothesline!

MM: But he still has Alan James to contend with on the outside! How can
one man survive against two?!

[Knuckles pulled up Kilroy by the hair, ignoring the referee's remark.
He leaped straight up and dropped down into a sitting position, slamming
Kiljoy's head into the canvas between his legs with a wicked faceplant!
Knuckles got both men on their feet, then hooked Paul around the knee
and the neck, flipping him back into a T-Bone suplex! Knuckles went to
the corner, hopped up to the second rope, and jumped down into a forward
elbowdrop on Kiljoy, to the crowd's roar!]

JW: Elbow hits the mark, and Knuckles is looking to put away Paul
Kiljoy, which would definitely even the odds and give him a fighting
chance!

MM: Knuckles putting his weight behind that elbowdrop, 259 pounds of
weight, that will dent your fender!

[Knuckles whipped Kiljoy to the ropes, but Paul ducked the clothesline,
and he rebounded with a high knee that left both men down on the mat.
Kiljoy managed to scramble to his corner, accepting the tag from Alan
James. James stepped over the top rope, moving to pick up Knuckles, but
finding himself scooped up with a front waistlock, lifted, and dropped
back across the top rope for a hotshot!]

JW: Knuckles fighting back, but how long can he last against two men?

MM: There's only so much gas in his tank, and no petrol stations in
sight!

[Knuckles pushed James back into a neutral corner, whipping him across
the ring toward the turnbuckles. But James reversed the whip, turning
almost completely around to send Knuckles into Team Two's corner. As
Knuckles crashed into the turnbuckles, Kilroy punched him in the back of
the head! Knuckles, incensed, turned to catch Kilroy (who hopped off
the apron) but James came from behind, facing away and hooking the arms,
lifting Knuckles right into a crucifix power bomb!]

JW: James turns the tide with a huge move!

MM: It had a real "Edge" to it, that's for sure!

JW: Alan James looking to tag out to Paul Kiljoy, he wants the chance to
double-team Brass Knuckles.

MM: Kiljoy's not making much of an effort to tag. He's just waiting for
James to get there.

JW: "Legacy" Paul Kiljoy waiting in the corner as James reaches for the
tag - and Kiljoy nails him with a big right hand!

CD: I guess there is no honour among thieves.

JW: James was knocked around from that punch right into Brass Knuckles -
PURE METAL DDT!

MM: That came out of nowhere!

JW: Knuckles with the cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

MM: Incredible! It's down to a one-on-one match!

Mark Edwards: After a pinfall elimination, "Jammin" Alan James leaves
the match at 36 minutes even! The next fall will decide the winner of
the match!

[Raucous cheers from the wild crowd, heavily in support of Brass
Knuckles, who charges Paul Kiljoy as he steps in the ring.
Clotheslining the Legacy into the turnbuckles before he can react,
Knuckles tried the Pure Metal DDT again, Kiljoy reversing it into a
Northern Lights that dropped Knuckles back into the turnbuckles upside
down!]

JW: A great heads-up move by Kiljoy, and he charges Knuckles with a
kneelift, right into the midsection of the inverted Brass Knuckles!

MM: That hurts just looking at it!

[Alan James rolled out of the ring to the stadium floor while Kiljoy
pulled Knuckles out of the corner to the center of the ring, backing up
and charging into a forward roll, performing a wicked necksnap on his
unruly opponent. Knuckles reeled after his head bounced off the canvas,
getting slowly turning to get back to his feet, the effects of the
damage suffered throughout the match evident on his slowed movements.
But Kiljoy shoved him down, face-first on the mat, crossing Knuckles's
ankles before locking them in, and stepping up to complete the STF!]

JW: This has got to be it!

MM: The STF is one of the most lethal submission holds in the sport
today! And after Knuckles has been through over half an hour of a
brutal match, fighting most of it himself, and supporting his team
through it all!

CD: Are you moonlighting as his publicist?

JW: Just listen to the crowd!

Crowd: LET'S go KNUCKles! (clap clap clap) LET'S go KNUCKles! (clap
clap clap)

JW: Referee checks on Brass Knuckles, he's definitely in pain, but
refuses to submit to the hold!

MM: It's just a matter of time, there's nothing he can do. His back is
under pressure, his legs are tied up, and he's right in the middle
of the ring!

CD: There IS something he can do. Submit. It's a simple matter of a
wild brawler getting beat by a technical wrestler. It happens all
the time. Survival of the fittest, you see.

JW: Knuckles may be out, that facelock wearing on him. Referee checks
the hand, it drops!

MM: A brave fight fought by Brass Knuckles, but...

JW: The hand drops again, one more time and this match is officially
over!

CD: And another unruly street brawler goes home empty-handed.

JW: Here's the third check, and the hand drops - NO!

MM: What?!

[Knuckles raised his fist as high as he could in defiance. Then he
brought his hands down, crawling with his forearms, inching closer and
closer to the ropes. The wild crowd encouraged his every advance, until
he was an arm's length away. He strained to reach his arm out, missing
the ropes with his fingers, then pushing once more with his forearms to
reach the bottom rope! The referee quickly ordered Kiljoy to break the
hold, though the "Legacy" held on until the last moment, and even
stomped Knuckles in the back after the break.]

Kiljoy: You're watching history!

[Boos rained down from the crowd in response.]

CD: What did he say, he's history? Kiljoy's giving up?

JW: "Legacy" Paul Kiljoy far from surrendering, as he pulls up Brass
Knuckles for a German suplex!

MM: He's got him!

JW: Knuckles driven onto his head and shoulders, Kiljoy bridging up!

One!

Two!

Three!

MM: NO, he kicked out in time!

JW: Brass Knuckles barely escaping in the nick of time!

MM: What does it take to put this man away?!

CD: Handguns are always effective, you Americans know all about those.

JW: Kiljoy looking for the power bomb, he's got Knuckles in place. He
goes up and comes back - No, reversal into a DDT by Brass Knuckles!
A desperation move!

MM: It paid off for him! Listen to the crowd, they're going nuts for
Brass Knuckles!

CD: WHAT?! I can't hear you over these morons!

[Knuckles worked himself back to his feet, finding Kiljoy and nailing
him with several punches, the crowd counting them off until the full ten
were delivered, the final punch a staggering uppercut that knocked
Kiljoy to the canvas! Knuckles pulled him back up, ducking a wild punch
from Kiljoy, catching Paul under the arm and over the shoulder, lifting
him up in a modified chokeslam, and driving him into the mat!]

MM: Paul Kiljoy just hit rock bottom!

JW: Kiljoy up again, this time for a whip to the ropes, Knuckles pushes
him up into the air for a backdrop - but slams him down face-first
instead!

MM: What a pancake!

CD: Do we need a spatula?

[After getting him back to his feet, Knuckles whipped Kiljoy to the
corner, with Kiljoy reversing it and sending Knuckles in instead, but he
pulled himself up and jumped backwards, leapfrogging over the head of
Paul Kilroy! He turned and ran to the opposite corner, with Kiljoy
following! Brass Knuckles swung himself up to the top turnbuckle, and
leaped for a beautiful flying clothesline! But the referee moved the
wrong way, stepping between Kiljoy and the airborne Knuckles, all three
men colliding and tumbling down in a heap!]

JW: All three men are down! The referee is winded!

CD: This is getting ridiculous, two officials injured in the same match.
These insurance claims are going to cut into the profits.

MM: Kiljoy's going into his trunks!

JW: Both wrestlers very slow getting back up, but Kiljoy does indeed
have something in his hand - it's brass knuckles!

CD: Define irony.

JW: Paul Kiljoy winding up, draws back, and LEVELS Brass Knuckles with
the foreign object!

MM: I think this is the first time in all my years of announcing
wrestling that I've seen Brass Knuckles hit with brass knuckles!

CD: Yes, yes, let the cheap humour flow.

MM: Actually, it's kind of surreal.

JW: Kiljoy tosses the weapon out of the ring, and he's trying to roust
the referee! This could be it for the man who fought so hard
against the odds, Brass Knuckles!

CD: (sarcarsm dripping from his voice) Done in by his own kind.
That's got to be some kind of tragedy.

MM: Say, did you notice Alan James? He's still crawling around the
rinside area. Isn't he supposed to leave?

JW: The referee starting to come around, and James reaches in the ring
to pull on Kiljoy! It would appear he's trying to pull him out of
the ring by his boot!

CD: Maybe James is trying to lace his boots, although I don't think he's
fit to.

JW: Kiljoy kicks James with the other foot, right in the face! That has
GOT to hurt, ladies and gentlemen!

MM: I don't get it, why is James grinning? He just got popped in the
head!

CD: He's probably too stupid to figure it out. Remember, this is the
guy who thought it would be clever if he showed up late for his own
match.

JW: The official in the ring rolls over to make the count on Brass
Knuckles!

[The referee makes a slow count, still dazed from the shot he received
earlier.]

ONE!

TWO!

[Outside the ring, in the background, Alan James throws back his head in
laughter, despite a small amount of blood seeping from a cut on his
forehead.]

THREE!

Mark Edwards: Winner of the match, and

[James takes the microphone away from Edwards.]

James: Hey, ref. He cheated, I saw the whole thing! Check his left
boot!

JW: Wait a minute!

MM: So THAT'S what he was up to! He wasn't trying to pull Kiljoy out,
he was putting the brass knuckles in!

CD: Spare me the obscene remarks to follow.

JW: The referee's demanding to see Kiljoy's boot, he's swearing up and
down he doesn't have a weapon. THERE THEY ARE! The referee found
the foreign object! He's reversing his decision and disqualifying
"Legacy" Paul Kiljoy!

Mark Edwards: Winner of the match, due to the disqualification -
BRAAAASS KNUUUUCKLES!

[The crowd erupts in a roar, cheering on the fallen brawler, as the
referee raises his weary hand in victory. Kiljoy immediately barrels
out of the ring and attacks James, knocking him into the guardrail with
a flurry of punches.]

JW: And the fighting continues here in Wembley Stadium! Brass Knuckles
will advance to the Battle Royale Main Event, but Alan James and
Paul Kiljoy still want to fight!

CD: Just think, if they had put that much effort into fighting the other
team, instead of ducking tags, one or both of those idiots might
have won this match.

MM: There's some kind of lesson there!

CD: Lesson Schmesson. It's ratings, that's the bottom line.

JW: James and Kiljoy, still fighting towards the back. But Brass
Knuckles is now on his feet in the ring, celebrating his victory!

MM: I have to say, I didn't think much of this guy going into this
match, but he's really showed me something tonight!

[As Brass Knuckles leaves the ring, the camera pans around the stadium,
and at a wide-angle distance falls upon the formerly empty seat that is
now occupied. As the camera zooms into the face, it becomes instantly
recognizable.]

MM: Hey, isn't that...

JW: I believe it is. That's...

CD: (Interrupting) Who? What? Where? I have no idea what you're
talking about, Worthington. Now let's concentrate on our next
match-up.

[A "MA-JORS...MA-JORS" chant starts up in the crowd, getting seemingly
louder by the second.]

MM: Fans, that's WWO's very own Troy Majors, and I'm going over there
right now to get some comments as to why he's here at Night of
Glory.

CD: You'll stay right where you are if you want paying for this event,
Masterson!

JW: Wasn't Majors supposed to have been invited for this event? I'm
sure the WWO's head Chris Bowenstern was given an invitation for
Troy Majors to compete here.

CD: What are you talking about, Worthington? I have no idea what you're
talking about.

[Masterson and Worthington ignore Chris, as the chant grows louder. A
house mic finds it's way into the hands of Mike Masterson as he makes
his way towards Majors.]

MM: Mr. Majors. If you have a minute, please, a few words?

[The fury in the eyes of Majors would lead most to believe that he's not
here for a chat-show. However, Masterson continues.]

MM: Troy Majors. May I ask what you're doing *here* in Wembley Stadium
for Night of Glory?

TM: You can't truly have the best wrestlers in the world gathered
together if you don't include me. Unfortunately I'm not able to
fight here tonight because the WWO put the kibosh on my invite. I am
contractually bound to compete exclusively in WWO rings. The clause
was only supposed to stop me from wrestling full time in other feds,
but the sharks in the suits once again twisted it against me and
stopped me from competing. Chris Bowenstern, you might have been
able to stop me from getting in the ring, but you can't stop me from
sitting here in the front row and being a part of this.

MM: Why would he stop you? I would think he'd only have to gain from
your appearance here tonight. He would only have to gain from you
showcasing your considerable talents in the ring.

TM: A rational person would think that way, but Chris Bowenstern isn't a
rational man. He's got a vendetta against me that supersedes
everything else in his life. He's on the outs with his family, he's
sending the WWO to hell in a hand basket, and it's all to try and
take my heart out. Chris, if you want to take my heart out, you're
going to have to tear it out physically because I have overcome to
much in my career and in my life to let you break me. And Masterson,
when I step in between those ropes it's no showcase. I'm not out
here to look pretty, I'm not some hooker who has to display my wares
so I can sell my body to some John who runs a wrestling company.
When I get into the ring, it's a war plain and simple. There is no
such thing as an exhibition for Troy Majors.

CD: [VO] Pay no attention. He's just crying conspiracy. It's all
false.

JW: [VO] Chris, shut up. We want to hear what he has to say.

MM: Where does this hostility between you and Bowenstern come from? How
did he even get a hold of your invitation?

TM: Bowenstern hates me because he's not me. Did you hear the people
when I came out here? He wishes he had that. He wishes he was a
champion instead of a broken down, out of shape, has been. It's all
a matter of petty, professional jealousy..but it's just a matter of
time before I cover the green eyed monster in Chris Bowenstern with
a crimson mask of red. There are rumblings about a Night of Glory II
already and if I have my way, Chris Bowenstern won't be around to
stop me from turning that ring up there into my world. How he got
his greasy hands on the invite is beyond me. From what I can gather
the committee that put this thing together didn't have a direct line
to communicate with me so they sent the thing out care of the WWO. I
pretty much figure Bowenstern picked a lucky day to have one of his
lackey's rifle through my fan mail.

CD: [VO] See. I tol...

JW: [VO - Interrupting] QUIET!

MM: How disappointing is it to fly all the way out here to Wembley and
not be able to compete.

TM: Pretty damn disappointing. Why do you think it took me so long to
get into the building? Every time I get near a ring all I want to do
is one thing, beat the piss out of somebody. Every time I get near a
ring my hand gets a funny cramping

[Majors makes two fists and opens his hands several times finally
holding his two fists tight.]

TM: I get this cramping and I just want to drive these down somebody's
throat. Believe me it takes every ounce of restraint in my body to
be on this side of the rail....truth be told....I really *don't*
have a lot of restraint. You know what else Masterson?

CD: [VO] You sneaked in without paying?

JW: [VO] WILL YOU SHUT UP, CHRIS!

MM: [a bit apprehensive] Yes Troy?

TM: All these rules and all this legal mumbo jumbo is beginning to annoy
me.

CD: [VO] So what are you going to do about it, pal?

[Majors hops the rail to a thunderous pop.]

CD: [VO] SECURITY!!

TM: I'll sign releases, I'll take all the heat for this one, I want you
to find somebody that can find me an ass to kick in this ring
tonight!

[Chris Douglas stands up and reaches for a house mic himself as Majors
stands over by the guardrail.]

CD: You *really* want to know why you're not appearing on this card,
Majors?

[Before Majors has the chance to lift his mic up, Chris continues.]

CD: I'll tell you. Perhaps it's because I don't like your attitude.
Perhaps it's because you'd undermine God's authority if you had the
chance. Hell, perhaps it's even because you and your brawling
tactics made it to the top without you even executing a single
wrestling move.

[Majors goes to lift his mic again, seemingly more annoyed than before,
but Chris talks over top.]

CD: You know, I have no idea why you're here and how you got here. The
big-wigs up in the Night of Glory offices decided that it would be
good for us, would you believe, to have someone like *you* (Chris
points towards Majors) appear on this event. Before I had the
chance to do the decent thing and put an end to that potential
disaster, the invitation was sent. Quite how that invitation got to
you when I clearly told Bowenstern to trash it is beyond me...

[Chris pauses for a moment, looking almost as if he'd started on a taboo
subject.]

JW: [VO] How on Earth could Chris Douglas have had not been conspiring
against Majors when he tipped off Bowenstern of the invitation? I
think it's safe to say that they're in cahoots to keep Majors out of
this.

[Majors walks towards Douglas.]

TM: Shut it. I want to ask you something Chris...is the hole I'm staring
at part of your face or is it your ass because I can't tell by
looking. Now that I know you were the one who got the ball rolling
to keep me off of the card I have to tell you....

JW: [VO] Majors is right in Chris Douglas' face! Security is gathering
en masse and with Majors' history of out of control, riotous
fighting I think it's a smart call. Troy doesn't take kindly to
being slighted like this.

TM: I have to tell you, if it was a good day I'd smack your face off.

[Chris goes to raise his mic and Majors cuts him off.]

TM: Chris....it's one hell of a good day.

[Majors shoves Douglas back a few paces and pulls his fist back ready to
punch. Security are fast to get inbetween the two as the crowd start
chanting "LET THEM FIGHT!...LET THEM FIGHT!"]

JW: UNBELIEVABLE! Folks, this is unbelievable. We've got Majors there
ready to shut Chris Douglas up once and for all, but Night of Glory
security are having none of this. I cannot believe what has
happened here, and both Majors and Douglas want to fight it out now!
Security are restraining Majors, and they're trying to persuade
Chris Douglas to go back to the commentary booth. Wrestling fans,
we could have a match on our hands right here!

[Security swamps Majors and they start to drag Majors away from the
ringside area and towards the locker rooms. About half way back, Majors
holds up his hands as if to say "I'm calm. I'm fine." but security,
aware of his temper keeps hold of him tightly. Fans are starting to get
a little on edge, while as security talks between themselves, they
loosen their grip on Majors slightly.]

CD: What the hell's that? Why are you stopping? Get him the hell out
of here. Cuff the guy. Arrest him. I have video evidence of
assault.

[As one security guard goes to cuff Majors, he quickly side-steps and
locks a sleeper hold on the security guard. The other security guards
back off fast as Majors quickly turns the sleeper into a suplex. The
fans stand, shouting and screaming as loud as is humanly possible.]

JW: FUTURESHOCK!! MAJORS HITS THE FUTURESHOCK ON A SECURITY GUARD!!

[Majors leaps over the guardrail and back into the crowd, as the fans
pat him on the back while he walks through them. Security tend to the
injured guard, with the crowd being too much for them to get through and
at Majors. As Majors gets a few rows back, he stands on a chair and
pounds his right fist into his chest twice before raising it into the
air as the crowd goes wild.]

JW: A fan just gladly gave up his seat for Troy to stand on so he could
give these fans in Wembley that salute of his. Now he's turning to
Douglas, and...

[Majors gives another choice salute, only this time it's directed
towards Chris Douglas. Douglas looks furious as Majors jumps down off
the chair and disappears towards the exit.]

JW: Folks, that was UNREAL!
______________________________________________________________
| _ __ ______ |
| / | / /___ / ____/ "HEARTBREAKER" STEVE WALLACE |
| / |/ / __ \/ /___ vs. |
| / /| / /_/ / /_/ / CREED |
| /_/ |_/\____/\____/ (NO HOLDS BARRED/FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE) |
| "AN EVENING OF STARS" Writer: ME! |
|______________________________________________________________|

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is a No Holds
Barred, Falls Count Anywhere Texas Death Match!!

[A large amount of cheers are heard amongst the crowd.]

Mark Edwards: The rules are simple. Each time a pinfall is counted, the
referee will initiate a ten count. If that ten count is answered, the
match will continue, and if a wrestler fails to answer that ten count,
the match is over. Introducing first... from Key West, Florida...
weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds... "HEARTBREAKER"
STEEEEEEEVE WWWWWWALLACE!!

[The arena blacks out, as two red spotlights pan through the crowd, and
finally cross at the entrance. The spotlights then pan to the big
screen, causing Wallace's famed broken heart logo to form. Then, the
logo bursts, causing the first heavy metal chords of AC/DC's "You Shook
Me All Night Long" to kick loudly. The crowd is divided as "the
Heartbreaker" himself, Steve Wallace bursts through the curtains,
smiling with his hands in the air. Wallace is clad in full length royal
blue wrestling tights with mini red broken hearts on them, and an
enlarged broken heart logo on the seat of them, with "The Heartbreaker"
inscribed in a fancy cursive. His matching royal blue boots are also
covered in mini broken hearts with "SW" written in the center. He
stands at the top of the ramp for several seconds, posing for pictures
before he struts down the ramp; the two red spotlights following, He
then springboards himself over the ropes, as he immediately flexes
inside the ring; causing red pyros to shoot out of the ring one by one.
As the pyros end, the music fades out, and then the lights come back
on.]

Mark Edwards: His opponent...

[Pantera's "Drag the Waters" starts to play, making the crowd go wild.]

Mark Edwards: ...from Pheonix, Arizona, weighing in at two hundred and
forty five pounds... HERE IS... CREEEEEEEEEEEED!!

["Drag the Waters" continues playing, as the camera focusses on the
aisle, but nobody appears. The crowd are still roaring.]

CD: The putz is scared to come out!

JW: I sincerely doubt that.

MM: One can only wonder if you, Chris Douglas, has anything to do with
Creed's absence.

CD: I don't know what you're talking about, Masterson! I'm contacting
my lawyers. If Creed's no-showing, then I'm getting compensation.

[The crowd's noise starts to die down, as they start up a "We Want
Creed" chant.]

JW: Folks, we apologise for this, but...

CD: (Cutting him off) Hey, don't apologise for that hack Creed. If he
won't wrestle, that's his problem, not ours. I'll find a
replacement.

JW: I get the impression that you know a little about what has happened
to Creed?

CD: I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Worthington. I've
been sitting here all night. You've seen me here.

JW: May I remind you that not so long ago you made the claim that Creed
wouldn't be making it to the ring.

CD: I meant that he doesn't have the guts to turn up, Worthington. Now
quit rearranging my words to suit your accusations.

[Suddenly, unaware to the commentators, Creed, clad in black jeans and
black boots, with his long dark hair held back in a ponytail, makes his
way through the crowd behind them. The crowd, as they start to realise
Creed's presence, begin to cheer.]

CD: Now, before I find a replacement for Creed, let me tell you a little
about him.

[At this point, pretty much all of the crowd have seen Creed and start
to roar once again. Chris, still unaware of Creed continues talking,
convinced that the crowd is cheering for him. Worthington and Masterson
have just noticed Creed, and a smile comes across both of their faces.
Creed steps over the guard-rail and stands behind Chris Douglas.]

CD: Creed, in laymans terms, is a coward.

JW: Chris?

CD: (Ignoring him) Someone who talks the talk, but can't back it up in
the ring.

MM: Chris?

CD: (Ignoring him) Now, I'm off to find Steve Wallace a replacement.

JW: Chris, I don't think a replacement will be necessary.

CD: And why not?

JW: I think you ought to turn around.

CD: Hah! You think I'd fall for that, Worthington?! That's the oldest
trick in the book. You expect me to turn around, expecting to find
Creed standing there, and making a fool of myself on an
International Broadcast? Well, Worthington, you've tried to trick
the wrong guy. I know not to fall for something quite that moronic
and...

[Creed taps Chris on the shoulder. Chris pauses for a moment before
realising what's happened and slowly turns around, totally shocked at
the sight of Creed.]

CD: But, I paid those guys to...

[The crowd goes nuts as Creed points at Douglas then makes the sign for
the End of the Line, in which he crosses his arms like a plus sign and
then pulls them down. Creed walks past Douglas, though still watches
him as he gets into the ring and is attacked by Steve Wallace as the
opening bell rings.]

JW: Well, folks, we promised you Creed, and you've got Creed!

CD: Yeah, and he's taking a pounding right off the bat, Worthington!

MM: I can imagine that someone around here is going to need to change
their underwear after that escapade.

CD: Quiet, Masterson!

JW: Wallace with some stomps to the head of Creed as he's still trying
to fully get into the ring. Wallace pulls Creed to his feet and
puts a knee right into Creed's midsection. Wallace now, looks
towards the crowd.

CD: Don't get their approval, kid. Just level him!

JW: Creed with a hard right hand puts Wallace back a few paces, and
Creed backs him into the ropes. Creed with an irish whip tries to
send Wallace into the opposite ropes, but the irish whip is reversed
and Creed is sent into the ropes. Creed off the other side and...
CLOTHESLINE!!

MM: That almost decapitated Creed!

JW: Creed has been sent out of the ring, folks!

CD: He's been eliminated! Ring the bell, ref!

JW: Chris, this is *not* the battle royal.

[Wallace runs across the ring, and jumps onto the second turnbuckle,
springboarding out of the ring for a cross body block. The noise from
the crowd is deafening.]

MM: GOOD LORD!

CD: I think Creed's now as flat as a pancake, Worthington!

JW: Creed certainly looks to be in trouble as Wallace runs up the
ringsteps.

[Walllace gets towards the top of the steps and flips back for a
moonsault, but just a second too late. Creed manages to roll out of the
way just in time.]

JW: Wallace hit the concrete floor hard. Folks, that's pure concrete
with only a small amount of padding and Wallace's stomach hit it
from quite a height. Creed now, shakes off the cobwebs as he gets
to his feet. Wallace struggles to get to his feet, but Creed is
right there with some hard punches and kicks.

CD: That's all he can do, Worthington.

JW: I beg to differ, as Creed doubles over Wallace with a kick to the
midsection and sets him up for what looks to be either a piledriver
or a powerbomb right there on the concrete.

[As Creed lifts Wallace into the air for a powerbomb attempt, Wallace
reverses it into a hurricanrana, sending Creed across the outside of the
ring and into the guard-rail.]

CD: That gives a whole new meaning to *guard* rail!

MM: Creed's getting up to his feet but Wallace runs towards him...
SPINNING HEEL KICK!!

[Crowd: OOOHHHH!!]

JW: THAT SENT CREED OVER THE GUARD-RAIL AND DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO THE
RINGSIDE FANS!!

CD: I *love* it!

[The ref follows closely behing, and Wallace runs towards the
guard-rail, leaping over it with no assistance for a Thesz press,
falling onto Creed, wowing the crowd. Security start to part the crowd,
giving the wrestlers some space.]

CD: Put a fork in Creed, Worthington! He's done!

JW: The ref climbs over the guard-rail and drop down to the floor as
Wallace covers Creed. The ref counts...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THREE!!

[Mixed crowd response.]

CD: HE DID IT!! WALLACE BEAT CREED!

MM: With the impact of Wallace's moves, I'm not surprised. Creed's been
pinned, but remember, this is a Death Match. A ten count must be
administered before anyone can win this thing.

CD: I say just make it one fall and get Creed out of there.

[Wallace is reluctantly pushed away by the ref as he starts the count.
The crowd chants along with him.

ONE

.

TWO

.

THREE

.

FOUR

.

Creed starts to get up as Steve Wallace reaches for a folding chair.]

JW: Well, Creed answered the count with reasonable ease, but as you can
imagine, he's taken a lot of punishment already in this one.

[Wallace tosses Creed the folded chair.]

MM: What's going on with that?

CD: He's giving him a chance, Worthington!

[Creed tosses the chair back to Wallace.]

JW: Creed though, doesn't want to know.

CD: He should be disqualified right there, Worthington!

JW: Once again, I remind you that this is No Holds Barred.

CD: Throwing a chair isn't a hold, Worthington! Disqualify him!

JW: Then Wallace should be disqualified too.

CD: Actually, scrub that!

[Wallace throws the chair back to Creed once again, then dropkicks the
chair as Creed catches it, making an almighty thud and flooring him.]

[Crowd: AAAAHHHHH.]

CD: I think he killed Creed!

JW: You could hear that shot right around the stadium, folks, and trust
me, this is one HUGE stadium.

MM: Wallace follows up with a standing elbowdrop, but Creed pulls the
chair in the way and Wallace ends up driving his own elbow into the
chair.

JW: Creed did that on instinct alone. Both men now, are staggering to
their feet. Creed is first up and makes a grab for the chair.
Wallace is up to his feet too, and Creed swings the chair at him...

[Creed swings, a little too wildly, and Wallace ducks. The
out-of-control chair ends up going sailing into a security guard's head,
knocking him out cold. The crowd stand, cheering.]

MM: Good Lord, NO! That man didn't deserve that.

JW: Creed is off-balance from that chair swing, and Wallace now with a
double-leg takedown drops Creed.

MM: I think Creed was in a state of shock from what had just happened.

CD: He doesn't care, Masterson. He'll hit a security guard, a pregnant
woman, a newborn baby, ANYTHING!

JW: Will you stop!

MM: Steve Wallace, the Heartbreaker is unfolding the chair.

CD: Yeah, take a rest! You deserve it!

[Wallace places it a few feet away from Creed and backs up even more.
Wallace runs and jumps off of it in a somersault plancha, landing on
Creed.]

CD: YES!

JW: Wallace with the cover and the ref is in position...

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THREE!!

[Another mixed response from the crowd.]

CD: That's it! It's two to zip! Ring the bell, it's over!

JW: It doesn't matter if one man scores two dozen pins. What matters is
that ten count, which is starting now.

[Wallace backs up as the ref starts to count. The crowd, once again,
join in.

ONE

.

TWO

.

THREE

.

Creed makes it back up to his knees as the ref stops the count.]

JW: Folks, Steve Wallace seems to be in control at this point, as he
pulls Creed back through the crowd.

[Fans try to pat Creed and Wallace on the back as they start to brawl
throughout the crowd, moving back towards the Emergency Exit.]

MM: Wallace now, with an irish whip, puts Creed hard into those
Emergency Exit doors.

[The doors fly open as Creed clutches his back. The action appears on
the Glorytron in the arena.]

JW: Wallace now with a thrust kick... NO! Creed catches his leg. Creed
winding up for a roundhouse right... WALLACE WITH AN ENZUIGIRI KICK
TO THE HEAD!

[Creed almost somersaults with the impact of the kick as he falls to the
ground.]

CD: I wonder if Creedy dosed himself up on pain killers like he usually
does, Worthington. Even if he did, it isn't working here!

JW: He does not! Wallace though, covers Creed, and the ref who's been
valiantly following these two drops down to make the cover...

.

.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

KICKOUT BY CREED!!

MM: Wallace pulls Creed into the door frame, and rests Creed's head
there.

CD: Wallace is going to give Creed the headache of his life here,
Worthington!

JW: It looks that way, as Wallace slams the door, but Creed moves his
head just in time. The door swings back... AND HITS WALLACE RIGHT
IN THE FACE!

MM: That'll leave a mark, as Creed pulls Wallace through those exit
doors.

[Fans pop wildly.]

CD: That leads to the car park!

JW: Yes indeed, as Creed throws Steve Wallace into some bikes parked by
the door. The ref has followed them out, and Creed looks to be
making a cover in amongst those bikes...

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THR... WALLACE LIFTS A SHOULDER!

MM: That was close, but the Heartbreaker managed to kick out of it.

JW: They've both taken some tremendous beatings so far, but neither of
them are out. Not by a long shot.

MM: Creed now, pulls Wallace towards some parked cars. Creed sets
Wallace up...

.

.

.

POWERBOMB!! RIGHT ONTO THE BONNET OF A BENTLEY AZURA CONVERTABLE!!

CD: HA! The owner of that car has got to me fuming right about now!
That's a two-hundred and fifty grand automobile.

JW: Good Lord! Wallace just made a dent in that Midnight Blue Bentley.

CD: You know, I drive one of those, and if someone did that to my car,
I'd be mad.

MM: You drive a Midnight Blue Bentley Azura?

CD: Yes. Why?

MM: Think about it, Chris.

CD: Think about what, Masterson?

MM: Where did you park that car?

CD: Well, in the Night of Glory Car Park of course. Right by the
Emergency Exi... WAIT A MINUTE... THAT'S MY CAR!!

JW: Creed now, covers Wallace on the bonnet of the car. The ref makes
the count...

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THREE!!

MM: Creed gets the pinfall. The referee persuades Creed to stand back
as he lays a count on the Heartbreaker.

CD: Bu...but...my...car. My wonderful car... It...but...who...what?!?

JW: The ref's up to two, three, four, as Wallace slides off of the
bonnet and gets to his feet.

CD: Creed had better have a good lawyer. We've got evidence of him
vandalising my car on video.

JW: They're back to trading rights and lefts again, as Creed uses his
brawling tactics to his advantage.

MM: Creed now, measures Wallace up for a roundhouse right... BUT WALLACE
DUCKS AND CREED'S ARM GOES RIGHT THROUGH THE WINDOW OF AN OLD FORD!!

CD: That'll teach the guy who owns that car not to drive such an
out-dated piece of...

JW: (Interrupting) WALLACE WITH A THRUST KICK SENDS CREED RIGHT THROUGH
THE CAR WINDOW!!

MM: Wallace pulls him out of the car, and he's pointing towards a fast
food vendor's cart right there on the other side of this car park.
Wallace takes Creed down with a hiptoss, but on the tarmac floor of
the car park, that'll take a lot more out of you than you'd think.
Wallace seems to be talking to the fast food vendor, who gives him
two hotdogs!

CD: Shove them up Creed's...

JW: (Interrupting) Wallace offers one to the ref, who looks around and
takes the 'dog!

MM: Creed is back up as Wallace finishes off his hotdog and pushes Creed
onto a grass bank just off the side of the Car Park. Wallace goes
for a hard right hand... BUT CREED CATCHES THE PUNCH IN HIS HAND!
Look at the look on Steve Wallace's face!

JW: He's in shock, as Creed twists his arm around, and nails him with an
elbow to the mouth. The Heartbreaker is left reeling from that one
as Creed hooks him up... REVERSE RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP!!

MM: Creed drops the elbow onto Wallace and covers him...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THR... WALLACE WITH A KICKOUT ONCE AGAIN!

JW: Creed seemed to think that should have been a three count, and
perhaps it was a little slow, but there's no way you're going to
change the ref's mind. Creed looks around, presumably to see what
he can use as a weapon, and his eyes are fixed on the bus shelter?!

CD: Creed's decided he's had enough! He's going to wait for the next
bus and get the hell out of here!

MM: I doubt that, but he pulls Wallace towards the bus shelter. Creed
locks on a front facelock... AND SUPLEXES STEVE WALLACE RIGHT INTO
THE GLASS OF THE SHELTER!!

CD: I know that's supposed to be a bus stop, but it looked more like a
Wallace Stop right there!

JW: This has *gotta* be it. Creed covers him...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THREE!! Creed gets the pinfall.

MM: But can he ensure that Wallace is knocked out for the ten count.

JW: We'll see here as the ref starts the count...

[The ref does indeed start the count, and the fans from the arena count
along with him.

.

ONE

.

TWO

.

THREE

.

FOUR

.

FIVE]

JW: And Steve Wallace starts to stir. He'll need to do more than this
though if he wants to answer the count.

[Crowd/ref: SIX

.

.

SEVEN

.

EIGHT...]

MM: And Wallace is back up, slowly but surely. That's the closest we've
had to a ten count in this one so far.

JW: And unsurprisingly too. Wallace was driven right through the glass,
and was pinned in amongst the shattered glass. Both men are
bleeding to some extent, but I think Wallace is cut open slightly
more.

CD: They bled for Night of Glory, Worthington!

JW: Yes indeed, and a smile comes across Creed's face as he sees a
double-decker bus pull up to the bus stop.

[The bus pulls up as a Police Officer walks to the Bus Stop, then stops
when he sees the mess of broken glass and blood.]

Officer: 'ello 'ello 'ello. Wot's goin' on 'ere then?

CD: Officer! Creed vandalised my car! Arrest him!

JW: He can't hear you, Chris.

[Creed and Wallace ignore the cop, and get onto the bus, still
brawling.]

Creed: DRIVE!!

[The ref grabs onto the back rail of the bus, and jumps on as the bus
pulls off, as does one cameraman. The picture starts to get shakey as
another cameraman jumps into a chase van and starts to follow.]

Driver: 'ey, you two wankas need ta' get da' 'ell of me carriage!

Creed: Charge it to Chris Douglas!

CD: HEY!

[The people on the bus looked somewhat shocked as Creed and Wallace
fight their way towards the back.]

JW: Wallace takes a punch from Creed, and falls back onto a bench.
Creed pulls Wallace up, and sets up for another suplex... Reversal
by Wallace as he sends Creed onto another seat with a snap suplex.
Wallace seems happy with this, and he's strutting to impress the
people on the bus!

CD: Yeah! Show 'em who's the man, Stevie!

JW: Creed is up off of the seat, but has his back to Steve Wallace, as
Wallace comes at him.

[As Wallace approaches Creed, Creed catches him with a no-look back
kick, knocking Wallace onto another seat.]

MM: Wow! Creed knew exactly what he was doing, and hooks up the
Heartbreaker... CRADLE DDT BY CREED!! Creed drops a fist right onto
the head of Wallace, and covers him...

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THREE!!

JW: Creed gets another pinfall as the ref pulls him back. The count has
started, and Wallace, while he's hurt, is making it back up, fairly
rapidly under the circumstances.

[By the time the ref hits the count of six, Steve Wallace is back up.
The camera pans to a bike tailing the bus.]

MM: Hey, isn't that Angel?

JW: Yes indeed! Creed's manager Angel has started to put up a chase
too!

[The camera pans back to the inside of the bus, where Wallace and Creed
are making their way up the bus' stairs to the top floor of the
open-topped double-decker. As soon as they reach the top, the people
from the top level start to make their way down to the ground floor.]

MM: Wise choice by the public there as Creed and Wallace are going at it
on top of the bus. Creed comes at Wallace with a lariat, but
Wallace ducks it. Wallace kicks Creed in the stomach, and grabs
onto his neck, turning him around... REVERSE NECKBREAKER!!

CD: Throw him off the bus!!

JW: Wallace stand on one of the seats, as Creed is on the floor.
Wallace jumps... KNEEDROP! That could do it...

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

CREED KICKS OUT!

MM: Wallace looks angry and complains at a slow count.

CD: Well it was.

JW: Wallace now, pulls Creed to the edge of the bus. Folks, they're
several feet up there on the bus, and this is dangerous stuff with
cars driving around near them.

CD: Why are there people out on the streets, Worthington? Why aren't
they at home paying for this event?!

JW: I think they're getting a first-hand view of it free of charge right
here, Chris.

CD: Wha'?!? Fre..f...FREE?!?

JW: Wallace has Creed near the edge of the bus... AND THROWS HIM OFF OF
THE TOP WITH AN ARMDRAG!!

CD: YES! YES! YES! Creed *has* to be dead!!

JW: Don't be so morbid!

[The camera pans over the edge of the bus, to find Creed laying on the
roof of the other cameraman's moving chase van. The bus comes to a
stand-still, as people flood off of it, and Wallace jumps down from the
top of the bus to the top of the now stationary van.]

CD: Damn! Something broke Creed's fall.

JW: Yeah, a metal roof.

CD: Hey, it works for me!

MM: Wallace stomps Creed on top of that van, and pulls him up...

.

.

.

.

PILEDRIVER!! WALLACE WITH A PILEDRIVER ON TOP OF THE VAN!!

CD: COVER HIM STEVIE!!

JW: The Heartbreaker does indeed cover Creed. The ref climbs onto the
van's bonnet and starts the count...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THREE!!

MM: Wallace pins Creed, and now it's that seemingly forever wait for
Steve Wallace to see whether he's won this thing or whether this
will continue.

CD: I say let it continue. Creed's getting beat up. I LOVE it!

JW: Referee now, up to three...four...five...six... and Creed rolls
over. Wallace though, breaks the ref's count by kicking Creed while
he's down.

CD: YEAH! Kick him again, Stevie!

JW: Wallace with another boot right into the side of Creed, and Creed
rolls over... RIGHT OFF OF THE EDGE OF THE VAN!! Wallace climbs
down, and picks Creed up. Wallace places Creed against the van, and
sets up... SPINNING HEEL KICK!!... NO!... CREED MOVES AND WALLACE
GOES RIGHT INTO THE VAN!!

MM: OUCH! Both men are down as Creed falls to the floor. Both are
exhausted, but pull themselves up and start to fight onto the
pavement. Creed grabs onto Wallace's waist and pushes him... RIGHT
THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR OF MACDONALD'S!!

CD: Hey, I wonder if Paul Kiljoy's in here!

JW: I sincerely doubt that, as the two wrestlers fall right across the
counter.

[A young assistant with a name badge which reads "John" steps towards
the til. He talks with a semi-broken voice.]

John: Hello, may I take your order?

CD: I think they'll be ordering a knuckle sandwich today by the looks of
things!

JW: Steve Wallace grabs onto the back of Creed's neck... AND RAMS HIS
HEAD INTO THE CASH REGISTER!! Wallace throws Creed over the counter
and they're fighting in the food preparation area!

CD: Fry him!

JW: Wallace is trying to do just that, as he moves Creed towards the
deep fryer!

CD: I'll have a Creedburger to go, please!

JW: Steve Wallace takes a step back... and runs at Creed... BUT CREED
MOVES...

.

.

.

.

.

AND WALLACE RUNS INTO A MACDONALD'S EMPLOYEE WHO GETS SENT INTO THE
FRYER!!

MM: Good God! Get him out of there!

CD: I guess you can say that employee really likes to get into his work!
HA!

JW: And as the MacDonalds' manager and various other employees try to
get that employee out of the fryer, Creed and Wallace have made
their way back to the seating area. Creed scoops up Wallace and
bodyslams him right onto a table!

CD: Hey, someone's food was there!

JW: I have a feeling they *won't* be picking a fight with Creed or
Wallace about that though.

CD: What in the hell is Creed doing now?!?

MM: He's climbed on top of the serving counter. Wallace is back to his
feet though, and...

.

.

.

.

CREED WITH A FLYING CLOTHESLINE FROM THE TOP OF THE COUNTER!

JW: Good Lord, that almost took Wallace's head off! Creed walks over to
someone else's table, and he's pulling a seat up! Those seats are
screwed down, but Creed seems intent on pulling one up out of the
ground.

MM: And he's done it too! Someone sitting at the table is somewhat
shocked as Creed... takes one of their Chicken McNuggets!

Creed: CHARGE IT TO CHRIS DOUGLAS!

CD: HEY! Not again!

JW: Creed takes the chair over to Wallace and raises it above his head.
It looks like Creed's going to bring it down over the back of Steve
Wallace...

.

.

.

WALLACE HITS HIM WITH A BOOT TO THE MIDSECTION!

MM: The Heartbreaker grabs the stool off of Creed and levels Creed right
in the face with it.

CD: If any of you watch hockey, *that* was a *real* face off!

JW: Steve Wallace places the stool back on the ground, a few feet away
from Creed, and he climbs it...

.

.

.

WALLACE WITH A SOMMERSAULT GUILLOTINE LEG DROP OFF OF THE STOOL AND
RIGHT ONTO CREED'S THROAT!!

MM: That was on a hard floor, and Wallace covers Creed...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THR... CREED KICKS OUT!! CREED KICKS OUT!!

JW: But just barely, as Wallace hits the floor in anger. Steve Wallace
picks Creed up, and throws him into the kid's playpen full of
plastic balls!

CD: Now Creed's right at home!

MM: Wallace lifts Creed up, and it looks like he has him in the position
for that Long Kiss Goodnight move of his....

JW: That's a vertical suplex into a piledriver, folks, and Wallace lifts
him up in the suplex...

.

.

.

BUT CREED SLIPS OUT THE BACK!! CREED LIFTS WALLACE INTO A
TILT-A-WHIRL...

.

.

.

.

TILT-A-WHIRL POWERSLAM RIGHT IN THOSE PLASTIC BALLS IN THE
PLAY-PEN!! CREED HOOKS THE LEG...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

.

THREE!!

MM: Can you believe it?!? The ref backs Creed off, and starts the ten
count once again in this one...
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

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.

ONE

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TWO

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THREE

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FOUR

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FIVE

.

SIX... Wallace is back up. Creed is over to Wallace... AND WALLACE
OUT OF NOWHERE HITS WITH A DDT!!

CD: I think Steve Wallace was playing possum a bit there. He stayed
down longer than he needed to, and it paid off.

JW: Wallace covers Creed and the ref is there to count... But Creed
kicks out almost immediately. Creed is back up, and Wallace seems
somewhat amazed and I don't blame him.

CD: Creed should be in hospital right now, Worthington! He's never done
anything like this before!

JW: Well, that remains to be seen as Creed starts really laying in the
punches to Wallace.

[Creed grabs onto Steve Wallace and drags him out of the door of
MacDonalds. They take a right and the camera pans up to the name on the
next store, called "Shattered Records".]

MM: Well, it looks like Creed's taken a liking to this place as he opens
the door and throws Steve Wallace... right into a counter full of
records!

CD: Now they really are Shattered Records! Ha!

JW: Creed now advances towards Wallace, who reaches for an album...

CD: (Interrupting) IT'S ELVIS!!

JW: What? Don't start with this Elvis is Alive fascination you have,
Chris.

CD: NO! The record is by Elvis!

JW: Geez! WALLACE HITS CREED OVER THE HEAD WITH THE ALBUM!

MM: I honestly don't think that did *any* damage whatsoever.

CD: Maybe not, but it certainly broke a record! HA! HA! Get it?

JW: The store owner now, trying to persuade them to leave, but it seems
Creed and Steve Wallace want to duke it out right here.

CD: This isn't the time for shopping. Isn't this supposed to be a
*wrestling* match?

JW: You try telling them that.

CD: Maybe I will.

JW: Maybe you should.

CD: Maybe I'll just say maybe.

JW: Maybe I'll ignore you.

MM: AND WALLACE WITH A PERFECTLY EXECUTED STANDING DROPKICK ON CREED!
Maybe that was... HEY! You've got me saying it now!

JW: Well, that dropkick was flawless. Absolutely flawless. Wallace
pulls Creed back up and hiptosses him across the floor. Creed is up
and near the exit. Wallace runs at him... ROLLING CLOTHESLINE SENDS
CREED OUT OF THE STORE AND BACK ONTO THE STREET!

[A car comes hurtling towards Creed, who tries to move, but as the car
attempts to come to a screeching halt, part of the front end of the car
hits the leg of Creed, who gets send a few feet backwards.]

MM: GOOD GOD NO!!

CD: I've died and gone to heaven!

JW: Will you stop!

CD: Tell that to the car driver!

JW: Wallace is right over to Creed, and kicks his leg away, really
capitalising on that incident a few moments ago.

CD: Well, what goes around comes around. Creed wrecks my car, so a guy
I paid runs him over!

JW: You paid the guy?

CD: WHA'?!? NO! I meant...umm... THEY'RE GOING INTO AN ALLEY WAY,
WORTHINGTON! CALL THE MATCH!!

JW: I think it'd be more appropriate to call the cops at this time.
Wallace gets a hold of Creed and shoves him into some trash cans
right there in the alley way. Wallace empties out one of those
cans, and it looks like Creed could be in some serious trouble now.

CD: Take out the trash, Wallace!

MM: No! Wallace points to the top of a dumpster. Maybe we'll see him
come off of there with some spectacular aerial move he's famous for.

JW: Well, I don't know about that, but he's pulling Creed towards the
dumpster and he's attempting to life him on to it.

[Wallace, with great effort manages to lift Creed onto the dumpster.
Wallace climbs the dumpster himself, and a smug grin appears on his
face.]

CD: End it, Stevie!

[Steve stands Creed at one end of the dumpster, and stands at the other
end himself. He leaps towards Creed in a bodyblock type move...

.

.

.

.

.

.

But Creed catches him in mid-air, spinning him around in a tilt-a-whirl
style move...

.

.

.

.

Right into a Samoan Bulldog from the top of the dumpster all the way to
the concrete alley way.]

JW: END OF THE LINE!! END OF THE LINE!! CREED WITH THAT AWESOME MOVE
OFF OF THE TOP OF THE DUMPSTER!! WALLACE IS DOWN AND SO IS CREED!!
CREED ROLLS HIMSELF ON TOP OF WALLACE AND THE REF COUNTS...

.

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

.

THREE!! Creed gets the pinfall. It's just a matter of the ten
count.

[Creed, totally exhausted takes a couple of seconds before rolling off
of Wallace, and making it to his knees. The ref starts the count as
Creed rises to his feet, holding his leg in pain while Steve Wallace is
seemingly unconscious on the pavement. The fans in the arena count
along with the ref...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

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THREE

.

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FOUR

.

.

FIVE

.

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SIX

.

.

SEVEN

.

.

EIGHT

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.

NINE

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.

.

TEN!!]

MM: HE DID IT! CREED HAS WON!!

CD: NOOOOO!! It can't be! I demand a re-count! Start the count again,
ref, but this time help Wallace up a bit. C'mon! Be fair!

[Cut back to the ring from the Glorytron.]

Mark Edwards: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN... HERE IS YOUR WINNER CREEEEEEED!!

JW: So Creed advances to the Night of Glory Battle Royal later on this
evening, folks.

CD: And it's a travesty of justice! That decision shouldn't stand!

JW: Why not?

CD: Because...because...well, it's...

JW: That's what I thought!

CD: Well, Creed's going to have to find his own way back to the Stadium,
Worthington. There's no way he's charging anything else to me!

JW: Well, we'll see about that, but you can bet that if Creed can move,
he'll get back here for the Battle Royal.

CD: I say we just go ahead and start the battle royal now then!

JW: (Sarcastically) How very professional of you.

CD: Think so?

JW: Give me a break! Folks, I'm told that we need to go back to the
locker room area as we have a continuation of a situation back
there...

[Camera cuts to the locker room area. Curtis and de Sade are seen in a
similar setting to before, only this time are brawling with each other.
As the security try to break it up, we cut back to ringside.]

MM: Good Lord! That isn't over by a long shot.

CD: Just let them in the damn battle royal. Someone needs to fire that
ref. Hey, I might just do that! Anyway, Worthington, my lawyer Rob
King will be out here and he'll put a stop to this. I guarantee it!

JW: Well, while we look forward to that, let's take you to the locker
room area where Steve Spector is ready to give us some words before
his bout here at Night of Glory.

[The scene is "Armitage" Steve Spector's locker room, and it
appears that no one's in the locker room when suddenly the door
swings open and in walks Spector. Spector's wearing a light
leather jacket and a pair of jeans, and his white boots. He's
got a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, which he throws down
on a nearby bench. Spector hunches over and sighs in exhaustion,
as if he was a little bit late to show up. He notices the camera
in his locker room, so he raises his head in the camera's direction.]

Spector: Not really a lot of time to speak.. since I just got here, so I
figured it's time to say a few closing words before I step into
the ring to face off against two of the toughest in the world
today..

[Spector adjusts his jacket.]

Spector: Well.. I haven't had the opportunity to do so, but
congratulations, Matthews. You are very well deserving of the
UEW Ultimate Title after what you've had to go through during
that match, and I hope you keep it for a long time...

[Spector smiles.]

Spector: I must apologize, Matthews... really. Maybe I felt
overconfident a few weeks ago when I looked too far ahead to
the battle royal. Yes.. I'm not going to lie to you.. for a
moment there it did look like I was gonna ride into the battle
royal with little or no resistance..

But you know, that would really... well... suck.

[Spector grins.]

Spector: I never could understand why sometimes my opponents seem to
make things easy for me. Does victory feel nice? Of course..
Does it feel nice when it seems like I didn't even need to put
much effort into it? Of course not.

Matthews, our paths have crossed from time to time, although
with the exception of a breif match we haven't had too much
experience with each other.. but you should know that I crave a
challenge.. and I know you like a good challenge as well, so
tonight, Matthews.. it's pretty much me and you in there, huh?

[Spector shakes his head.]

Spector: I'll be honest once again and say that Tiger Claw has
disappointed me in this one.. almost like he's gonna let either
me or Matthews advance. Maybe I'm saying this with
overconfidence, but.. unless Claw's got something major up his
sleeve there is no way he's gonna get past either of us
tonight.

[Spector gives a stern look at the camera.]

Spector: But getting back to you, Matthews.. whoever wins the match will
deserve it. It's all gonna be about who's put the more effort
and more skills into it.. I'd like to gaurantee a victory..
just like in about every other match I've ever been in..

But if I lose to you, Matthews.. there's gonna be no shame in
it. You're nobody like Eric Travers or Liam Rogan.. the day I
lose to you, Matthews...

Is the day I go back to the drawing board and come up with a
new plan for the next time we meet.

[Spector grins.]

Spector: It's that simple.

See you in the ring.

[Camera cuts back to ringside.]
______________________________________________________________
| _ __ ______ |
| / | / /___ / ____/ |
| / |/ / __ \/ /___ SPECTOR vs. CLAW vs. MATTHEWS |
| / /| / /_/ / /_/ / THREE-WAY ELIMINATION MATCH |
| /_/ |_/\____/\____/ |
| "AN EVENING OF STARS" Writer: Jeremy S. |
|______________________________________________________________|

JW: We are back, folks, as A Night Of Glory rolls on, and what a night
it's been already!

MM: It sure has, and this next match just might blow the roof off this
place! "Armitage" Steve Spector takes on Tiger Claw takes on Jeff
"Madfox" Matthews in what should be a fine match!

JW: Fine? Try "Match Of The Year"! These are three of the most
exciting wrestlers in the world...

CD: (holding in laughter) *pppffttt*

JW: ... who are MASTERS in their respective styles...

CD: *ppfftt*... hee hee...

JW: ...and all three of these men are amongst the top tier of wrestlers
in the world!

CD: HAHAHAHAHA!!!! Oh... HAHA... that's a good one... "top tier"
indeed! Maybe Tiger Claw... but MATTHEWS? And SPECTOR? They're
barely Top-Shelf material at Wal-Mart!

MM: I think Douglas is just trying to ruffle some feathers in the back.
So, I take it you're hoping to distract Spector and Matthews so
Tiger Claw can make it to the Battle Royal, are you?

CD: WELL! I don't know who is giving you your information, Masterson,
but the fact of the matter is, you have a man who has been cast out
of the spotlight he deserves, in favor of men just like Spector and
Matthews... people who seem to get by in life on charm alone...

JW: Good thing YOU never had to get by on charm, Douglas, you'd be
washing windows on 101st Street in New York if THAT were the case!

MM: So, Chris Douglas has made his thoughts known...

CD: I'm picking Tiger Claw. He's a master of Mooey Tahiti, you know.

JW: That's Muay Thai...

CD: Isn't that what I said?

MM: I, for one, am going with the UEW Ultimate Champion, Jeff "Madfox"
Matthews! This man is a CONSUMMATE mat technician, and is as
fundamentally sound as any man alive.

CD: He's not bad... of course, he's no Chris Douglas!

JW: A fact for which Mrs. Matthews can be very proud of.

CD: Do I have to resort to physical violence?

JW: Anyway, I'm picking "Armitage" Steve Spector! The MLWO World
Champion is a man who has been everywhere, seen everything, and is
on top of his game!

CD: I heard he had to get on his hands and knees BEGGING to get into
this event... come on, nobody REALLY thinks this Spector bloke is
any good, do they?

[Joseph and Mike just look at Chris like he's a loon.]

CD: Anyway... let's get on with it!

[The scene switches back up to the ring, and as the crowd realizes this,
there is a pop... and as the graphic for the Three-Way is shown over the
big screen, the pop EXPLODES!]

Mark Edwards: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN... THE FOLLOWING "NIGHT OF GLORY"
CONTEST... IS AN ELIMINATION-STYLE 3-WAY DANCE!

(BIG POP!)

Mark Edwards: INTRODUCING FIRST...

["Gentle Art of Making Enemies" By Faith No More bursts out over the PA,
and the crowd erupts into boos. The big screen starts displaying clips
of Tiger Claw executing some of his best moves, as Claw himself steps
out from behind the curtain. The 220-pound Claw is built like a
well-muscled machine; this is evident even though a white T-Shirt
currently covers the upper half of his torso. Tiger Claw has a look of
thoughtful intensity on his face, accentuated by the familiar Fu-Manchu
style mustache and spiked goatee. His head is, as always, shaved clean.
As Claw continues down the aisle, with manager Brian Lau lurking behind
him, the announcers continue...]

MM: This is Tiger Claw, and what an intense competitor he is! You're
the background man, Joseph, tell us about Claw.

JW: Tiger Claw is a Muay Thai expert, born in Canada, but trained in
Thailand. He worked his way up to become a success in the Muay Thai
circuits, but an incident involving his manager, Brian Lau, got him
kicked out of the Muay Thai circuit. After that, he joined
pro-wrestling, starting in the IIWF, where he formed a group called
the Syndicate... and look how that's taken off! Anyway, Claw
currently competes under the EMWC banner, where he's striving to
show all those who doubt him that he is a force to be reckoned with!

CD: And if he managed to stay awake through your dialogue, Worthington,
he'll be proving a couple more doubters wrong tonight!

[As the announcers give the story of Tiger Claw, Claw hops into the
ring. He stands in center ring, in his red-and-black Muay Thai shorts.
A brace entwines his left knee, and only black ankle supporters adorn
his feet. He gives a sneer to the capacity crowd as Brian Lau circles
the ring, hands in the air.]

Mark Edwards: First...

...FROM TORONTO, CANADA...

...WEIGHING IN AT TWO HUNDRED TWENTY POUNDS...

...ACCOMPANIED BY HIS MANAGER BRIAN LAU...

T I G E R C L A W !!!!

[Claw's music stops, and "One" by Metallica starts in it's place. The
boos instantly melt into cheers! Seconds later, Jeff "Madfox" Matthews
walks out from behind the curtain, and he raises his fists over his head
as he soaks in the adulation of the capacity crowd! Matthews wears long
black tights with thick white striping down either side... these stripes
each contain the word 'MADFOX' in bold print. A large "NO FEAR" T-shirt
covers his upper body, and the shiny, bright UEW Ultimate championship
belt adorns his waist. A smile runs over his clean-shaven face, and
Matthews begins his journey down the aisle...]

MM: Okay, Joseph, tell us about Jeff Matthews.

JW: Way ahead of you! Jeff Matthews was the son of a Marine, who
started teaching him technical wrestling at the age of three...

CD: Pedophile!

JW: ... and at age 13, he killed a rabid fox, that had attacked his
little brother, with his bare hands!

CD: Yeah, that vicious killer, the fox! It must have been a real
struggle, murdering an animal a thirtieth of his size!

JW: His grandfather, a full-blooded Cherokee, gave Jeff the nickname
Madfox over that incident, and he's worn it proudly ever since.
After his 4 years of service in the Marines, Matthews entered
pro-wrestling, and has arrived at the top... the champion of one of
wrestling's elite leagues, UEW.

CD: And, in the greatest moment of his life... he got squashed by Tiger
Claw at the Night Of Glory!

[Jeff Matthews slides into the ring, and gets into a brief staredown
with Tiger Claw before turning and climbing the top rope, raising his
hands to the roar of the crowd! Matthews rubs a hand through his short
brown hair, and sits on the top turnbuckle, waiting.]

Mark Edwards: In the ring...

...FROM DURHAM, NORTH CAROLINA...

...WEIGHING TWO HUNDRED FOURTY-FIVE POUNDS...

...HE IS THE REIGNING CHAMPION OF THE UEW...

J E F F "M A D F O X" M A T T H E W S !!!!!

["One" slowly fades out... and "Cut You Up" by Peter Murphy plays, to a
large mixed pop! Out from behind the curtain strides "Armitage" Steve
Spector, and the pop intensifies! Spector stops, and takes a long look
at the jam-packed arena; as his head turns, we clearly see the green
streak running down the middle of his brown hair! Across his waist, the
championship of the MLWO gleams in the arena light. Spector starts
toward the ring, and the look in his eyes is disturbing. Though he does
stop to slap a few hands, his eyes never leave the ring, and one gets
the distinct sense of hostility in Spector's otherwise calm demeanor.]

MM: Well, Joseph...

JW: Steve Spector, whether he's called "Armitage" or "The Edge", is a
dangerous man. We don't really know a lot of what went on in
Spector's life before wrestling, but since his debut, he has done
nothing BUT make news, and excel at whatever he does.

CD: Yes, this man EXCELS at ducking competition!

JW: Spec... WHAT?!?!

CD: He's never fought ME, has he?

MM: How many limbs do you have, Douglas?

CD: Four.

JW: Then I think it's safe to say he never fought you.

[Spector arrives at the ring, slingshots himself into the center of the
ring, and slowly runs his index finger across his throat, as the crowd
pops! Spector takes the MLWO belt from his long cyan tights, with red
claw-marks running down the side, and backs into a corner, to glare at
the competition a bit.]

Mark Edwards: Finally...

...FROM CARTARET, NEW JERSEY...

...WEIGHING TWO-HUNDRED TWENTY-FOUR POUNDS...

...THE REIGNING CHAMPION OF THE MLWO...

"A R M I T A G E" S T E V E S P E C T O R !!!!

*DING*DING*DING*

MM: The match is underway... Tiger Claw dashes at Matthews!

JW: Matthews just springs off the second rope, where he was seated, with
a clothesline! Claw goes down, and Spector is stalking them both...

MM: Springboard dropkick by Spector to Matthews! And look...

CD: Spector lands right next to Claw... who wraps him into a reverse
kneebar! Just shows how inattentive Spector is!

JW: Matthews rolls up... and watches Claw with the hold on Spector.
Spector is quickly to the ropes, and the referee is laying on the
count. Remember, there are no tags in this match... all three men
are legal!

CD: Ugh. Just an excuse for you Americans to turn this sport into an
outlet for your primitive bloodlust!

MM: Yeah, so what's your point?

JW: At the count of four, Claw breaks the hold, and fires a short instep
kick to the left knee of Spector! Now he approaches Matthews...

MM: Jeff Matthews steps behind... grabs the head of Tiger Claw...

CD: NICE counter by Tiger Claw! A back crescent kick caught the Madfox
unawares!

JW: Wait, I thought you always said kicks and punches were just mindless
violence?

CD: Not when a master like Tiger Claw does it... there's TECHNIQUE to
his form of violence!

MM: And Claw goes back to the attack on Spector! An Achilles
tendonlock... he's trying to keep Steve Spector from flying in this
one... good plan!

CD: Unfortunately, that IDIOT Matthews just ruined it, by hooking Claw
into a standing reverse neckbreaker!

MM: A NICE standing reverse neckbreaker, and the Madfox follows up...
with the Boston Crab! He was so fast and sharp with his execution,
that Claw had no time to counter!

JW: Matthews SINKING that Crab in deep! Tiger Claw is maintaining his
composure, but you can see in his eyes the amount of focus that's
taking! He needs to get out of his hold before he's worn out!

CD: Well, now Spector will return the favor.

JW: WOW! SPRINGING REVERSE NECK SNAP! He hooked Matthews' head and
SNAPPED him back... right on top of Claw!

MM: That one hurt Claw more than anyone... for a second there, his legs
got yanked back even farther, and now the 245 pound Madfox is laying
on him!

CD: Is it me, or does Matthews look grotesquely out of shape?

JW: It's just you. Spector swiftly runs up the turnbuckles... HIGH
ALTITUDE MOONSAULT! Oooohhh...

CD: A little TOO high altitude! Matthews and Claw rolled out of the
way, and Spector made a nice SPLAT on the canvas. Well, that's the
end of him.

MM: Tiger Claw back up to his feet, and now he's exploding into a
VICIOUS combination of punches on Matthews! He's peppering Jeff
Matthews with... OH!

JW: Matthews grabbed the arm of Claw as he went for an elbow uppercut...
and SPIKED it back, like a DDT on the elbow! Claw just got driven
right on his funny bone, and he ain't laughing, folks!

CD: And here comes Spector... does this guy ever know when to quit?

JW: Frankensteiner! He caught Jeff Matthews on the fly with that move,
and now he's grappling with the Madfox... looks like he's trying to
apply a Crippler Crossface...

MM: And a BRUTAL kick to the head of Spector by Tiger Claw... almost
like he slapped him across the face with his foot!

CD: Oh, he made the American mad, and he reacts in a typically American
way! "Armitage" tackles Tiger Claw and starts throwing punches!

JW: That's not right, Douglas...

CD: Oh, sorry, you are absolutely correct! Spector isn't from America,
he's from New Jersey, which is even WORSE!

MM: Tiger Claw takes a few shots to the head, and switches around...
into a Wakigatame! That's a crippling armbar!

JW: And Spector slips out of it quickly! He's done his homework... and
Tiger Claw lunges up onto his feet and at Steve Spector... OW!

MM: Jeff Matthews legdropped the back of Claw's head as he got up,
spiking him back down! Great timing by Matthews!

CD: And two feet to the mouth will remind Jeff Matthews that Spector is
NOT his friend! Knowing him, though, he still won't get the
picture...

JW: Spector picks up Matthews... snap suplex!

CD: HEY! He suplexed Matthews ON Tiger Claw! That's not textbook
execution... where did HE go to wrestling school?

MM: Steve Spector springs up to the top rope... last time he tried to
jump on both men, he wiped out!

CD: Slow learner, eh? No wonder Worthington likes him so much!

JW: "Armitage" leaps... frog splash! And it hits both men!

CD: Tiger Claw on the bottom of the pile... I tell you, those other two
FEAR that man!

MM: Now Spector drags Matthews up by the arm... LA MAJISTRAL CRADLE!

ONE...

TWO...

MM: Matthews directs the torque of his body, kicks, and pops free...
with a hold on Spector's leg to boot! And he twists...

JW: HE'S GOING FOR THE FOXTRAP!

CD: Well, he was, until Tiger Claw smashed the left side of his face in
with a frontal spinning enzuigiri!

MM: And Spector thanks Claw for his trouble by kipping up, and throwing
himself into a spinning heel kick! I don't think Claw expected him
to be so quick there!

{{{Bren's Note: Appears google groups never took in the part here to finish this match and start the Keening/Demola match}}}
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

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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Mark Edwards: The second fall is with rules as follows. No
disqualification, no countouts and falls count anywhere...

[HUGE crowd response.]

CD: (VO) That's just violent crap, Worthington!

Mark Edwards: The final fall, should it come down to it, will be
contested under regular wrestling rules. Ladies and Gentlemen
Introducing first, from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at three
hundred and five pounds... "SCREAMING DRILLBIT" JASON KEEEEEEEEENING!!

(The arena lights dim and the funky bass intro to "Higher Ground" by THE
RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS begins thundering over the P.A. system as the
crowd cheers in anticipation. A lone spotlight shines down onto the
entrance curtains which are swept aside as a heavily-muscled figure
steps through. With long, straight black hair framing his face,
"Screaming Drillbit" Jason Keening stops just inside the entrance and
smiles as the fans cheer loudly. He waves and jogs lightly down to the
ring, slapping hands with fans along the way as the spotlight follows
him to ringside.)

(The crowd grows quiet as Keening stands there for a moment, looking
around at the huge audience in Wembley Stadium.)

JK: Before we go any further, I just want to say something. You see,
"The Bulldogg" and I have been waging a war of words for some time
now. And in a few minutes, it all comes down to just wrestling. But
as some of you know, I've had run-ins with a few of Demola's goons
in the past, most particularly his brother, Frank "The Blacksmith"
Anthony. And knowing that Nick will sometimes stoop to some pretty
low tactics, I've asked someone to come out here and watch my back.

[A joker in the crowd yells out "BRING OUT THE GOBBLEDYGOOKER!" and
Keening grins in response.]

JK: That man is someone I have a lot of admiration for. He says what he
means and his actions prove not only that he is one of the finest
competitors to ever step into the squared circle but also a man of
honour... and courage. He is the winner of the 1998 Garneau Plate,
I give you..... "THE HART SURGEON" JAMES AUDIET!

[The crowd roars as a loud heartbeat is suddenly heard over the P.A.
system. As the heartbeat pulses, a single, bright red light pulses in
time with it down into the center of the ring. The "Moonlight Sonata"
by Beethoven starts playing with the heartbeat continuing in the
background and a single dazzling white spotlight shines on the entrance,
illuminating a muscular man wearing pink full-length tights with blue
and red veins drawn around both legs. As James Audiet slowly makes his
way to the ring, the music [and heartbeat] continue as the crowd cheers
loudly. Audiet climbs into the ring and shakes hands with Keening who
then hands him the microphone.]

JA: I'll not waste much time, but to say that you, Mr. Demola, have a
problem. You believe yourself to be at a higher plane, to be
SUPERIOR... Truly I tell you, this word 'superior' is a dangerous
word. Men have fought and died a thousand times over to lay claim
on it, yet it escapes the grasp of all... for I tell you the truth
when I say that no man is superior to another, when in his heart he
believes himself to be so. Tonight, Mr. Demola, will be a swift and
painful object lesson in humility. And that's all I have to say to
the likes of you.

[The crowd cheers as Audiet steps through the ropes and drops down
beside Keening's corner while the ring announcer steps forward to take
the microphone once more.]

JW: Goodness! Keening has surprised us all!

CD: Aside from me, Worthington! I knew it all along!

JW: (Sarcastically) Yes, Chris. Of course you did.

MM: Talk about an event to be remembered. The Hart Surgeon James Audiet
has made his presence known here at Night of Glory. One can only
wonder whether or not he'll be the deciding factor in that match.

CD: I imagine Nick Demola will have a few tricks up his sleeve too,
Masterson.

JW: Well, he's in the locker room area now. Let's get some words with
Nick Demola.

[The camera cuts to the large black man and large mexican man standing
with arms crossed and folded in front of a golden throne. A baritone
voice yells from behind them........]

Demola: ARE THEY READY FOR ME NOW?!?!?!?!

[The two men split apart and the handsome, cocky, amazing man named Nick
"The Bulldogg" Demola pops out from between them.....]

Demola: These insolent pukes have been holding me back long enough!
Now it is time for the Bulldogg to show the world what he is
REALLY made of!

[Nick lifts up a crobar.....]

Demola: I should have four things in my corner tonight, Jason Keening.
The two men next to me, my trusty crobar, and the fact that I am
fifty times better than you could ever be.

[Nick steps up and throws the crobar to the ground.]

Demola: You talk about being a technical wrestler extraordinaire. You
talk of your respect for the business of wrestling. Well kid, I
practically INVENTED wrestling.....I am the GOD of Wrestling,
after all. And the respect I have for this industry is immense.
I have become famous the world over because of this sport. It
has given me so much.....and tonight I will give some back.

[Nick takes a somber look into the camera.]

Demola: Sometimes in life you must do what you are called to do.
Sometimes you must bite the bullet for the betterment of all
people involved. Sometimes you must do your job......

[Nick looks at his bodyguards behind him.]

Demola: Juan, Thomas, I am going out there tonight and doing what has
to be done.........on my own. I am going to head to that ring
alone and come out of there alone. I am going to prove once and
for all who the best wrestler in the world really is. So put
away all of our plans....The D-O-Double G is flying solo
tonight.

[The large black man responds........]

Hunter: But Nick!

Demola: Thomas, that is an order! Stay back, watch on the monitors. I
must do what I must do.

[The two large men walk out of the room in a huff.]

Demola: Jason Keening, I am coming at you with all the rage and fury I
have. And no matter what happens tonight you will know after
our match that you were in the ring with the toughest man you
have ever seen. The world will watch this match and realize
that Nick Demola is the greatest the world has to offer. And I
will honor the business that has given me so much. This is by
no means the end of Nick Demola......it is just the beginning.

[Nick puts on his flowing white robe.]

Demola: So sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. Jason Keening, you are
going to go through the trials. And fans, be sure to get your
VCRs ready. This is one you won't want to miss. In fifty years
you'll be telling your kids, your grandkids, your
great-grandkids that you saw the greatest wrestler ever to step
foot in a ring put on the greatest show ever seen. You can tell
them you saw The Man, The Myth, The Legend........The GOD of
Wrestling.....Nick "The Bulldogg" Demola. And you can tell them
about the time that he put away all excuses and all assistance
and went out to the ring to kick some tail. STRIKE UP THE
BAND!!!!!!!!! Nick Demola is OUTTA HERE!!!!!!!!

[The camera fades to Nick thundering out of the door.]

[Cut back to ringside. "Wherever I May Roam" by Metallica blares in the
background.]

Mark Edwards: Ladies and gentlemen, this man is known worldwide as a
true rising superstar in our sport. With world titles from all over the
globe to his credit, he is one of the most decorated superstars of our
day. And tonight he steps into the ring to attempt to reclaim the glory
that he once had. Hailing from Rahway, New Jersey and weighing in at
249 pounds.....here is the current IWA Hardcore Champion, the current
EHWF World Champion, the current DWF Universal Champion. Here is The
Man, The Myth, The Legend......The GOD of Wrestling.........NICK "THE
BULLDOGG" DEMOLA!!!!!!!!!

JW: You've got to wonder something.

CD: What's that?

JW: How much did Demola pay Edwards to say all of that?

CD: Quiet, Worthington!

[The muscular, toned Nick Demola flows to the ring in a white robe. He
stands at the top of the ramp and raises his hands. The lights of the
arena go dark and turn on again. Nick is standing inside the ring with
his hands raised. He jumps on each corner and absolves the crowd of his
sins, then takes off his robe and stretches on the ring rope. He seems
focused and determined.]

JW: Folks, don't mind this. This is just Nick Demola's ego at work.

CD: Quiet, Worthington! Nick's very modest you know.

JW: (Sarcastically) Sure. Folks, as Nick Demola said, he's flying solo
tonight. There will be no Vasquez and no Hunter, or so he says.

CD: Demola's a man of his word, Worthington! He'll keep it! Unlike
Keening who has to bring out an army to cover him.

JW: Well, as you saw, folks, Demola's bodyguards are still in the locker
room area. It wouldn't shock me if this is a cleverly concocted
plan by Demola.

CD: Rubbish, Worthington! Demola's as honest as my lawyers!

JW: My point exactly!

MM: Both of Demola's managers, and I use that term loosely, are well
built and can certainly take care of business, but they're not out
here tonight. One can only wonder what'll happen with Audiet being
the spanner in the works so to speak.

JW: Well, nobody can interfere in that first fall. With rules dictating
that it must be a pure science fall, and kind of rule breaking will
be punished with a disqualification, and losing that first fall puts
you at a severe psychological disadvantage.

[Both Demola and Keening are in the ring, each in a diagonally opposite
turnbuckle. The ref calls them to the center of the ring, ensuring they
understand the rules of this first fall, as Audiet stands watching from
outside of the ring in Keening's corner. The ref waves towards the time
keeper, who rings the bell. Keening reaches out his hand in a handshake
gesture, but Demola brushes Keening's hand away.]

CD: This isn't patty cake, Keening!

JW: No, it's called sportsmanship.

CD: Whatsmanship?

JW: Exactly.

MM: Collar and elbow tie-up to start things off with, and Keening pulls
Demola towards him, into a standing side headlock. Demola is trying
to reach for Keening's hair, and should the official see this, it's
an instant disqualification.

CD: Hey, it's only illegal if you get caught!

JW: Demola now, with that handful of hair behind the official's back,
pulls Keening towards the ropes. Demola throws Keening into the
opposite ropes, getting out of that headlock, and Keening comes back
off the other side... SHOULDERBLOCK! And Demola goes down before
rolling out of the ring.

CD: Safe strategy, Worthington! You've got to appreciate the thinking
man's wrestler, Nick Demola.

JW: Demola starts to roll back into the ring, and the ref keeps Keening
at bay. Demola is back into the ring, and collar and elbow
tie-up... No, Demola with a boot to the midsection stops Keening in
his tracks. Demola locks Keening in a standing wristlock, but I
don't know how long he'll be able to keep a man of Keening's size in
a hold like this.

MM: Not long, I'd say, since Keening turns it around into an armdrag
takedown. Keening with a stomp as Demola rolls to the ropes and the
ref forces Keening back. Demola rises to his feet, and Keening
grabs onto an arm and puts Demola in a standing armbar.

JW: Demola though, the submission and technical move specialist that he
is reverses the move, and it's Keening who's on the receiving end of
the pain. Keening though, reaches out and he's to the ropes. The
ref forces the break, but Demola looks somewhat frustrated.

CD: He's just giving Keening a false sense of security, Worthington!

JW: Oh, that's what you call it.

MM: Demola is looking towards his corner for advice, but Hunter and
Vasquez are not there... KEENING WITH A STANDING DROPKICK!!

JW: Good God! It's not often you see a three hundred plus pound man
perform a move like that, but when they do... OUCH!

CD: But Demola wasn't ready!

JW: Demola struggles back up to his feet, and Keening moves in with a
forearm shot to the back of Demola's neck. Keening now, sends
Demola into the ropes with an irish whip, and... CLOTHESLINE!

MM: Keening has Demola in trouble, and turns Demola onto his stomach and
drops an elbow right across the back of his neck.

CD: He's working on the neck area, Worthington. I guess he figures that
he can get ahead by breaking Demola's neck. Get it, Worthington...
he can get a *head* by breaking Demola's neck?

JW: Yes, we all get the joke, unfortunately.

MM: Keening pulls Demola to his feet, and doubles Demola over with a
knee to the midsection. Keening follows up with an elbowsmash to
the back of Demola's neck, and Demola drops to the canvas.

JW: Keening appears to have the early advantage here, folks, as he
continues to work on Demola's upper trapezius muscle. Keening
twists Demola's arm around and... SHORT-ARM CLOTHESLINE!

MM: Keening now, follows up by pulling Demola to his feet and sending
him into the turnbuckles. Demola goes in hard, and the momentum
carries him out. Keening puts his head down for a backdrop
attempt... BUT DEMOLA PUTS ON THE BREAKS AND HITS A BIG DDT!!

JW: That'll slow you down in a hurry.

MM: Indeed. Demola pulled that move out of nowhere.

CD: He's always one step ahead, Masterson. He knew what he was doing.

JW: Keening's down and looks hurt, as Demola makes it to his feet, but
just barely. Demola now, grabs onto the legs of Keening and turns
him over into a boston crab.

MM: This is really where Demola shines - submission wrestling. Keening
looks in pain, though I don't think that Keening's the kind of
person to give up without a fight. Demola's got this locked on good
though, with perfect leverage, and Keening needs to do something
fast.

JW: Well, the ref could quite well make a judgement call and ring the
bell awarding the first fall to Demola, but he looks to Keening, and
Keening's shaking his head. The ref has one hand towards the time
keeper... He could call this fall.

MM: Keening is trying to make it to the ropes. This is what he needs to
do if he wants to stay in this thing.

JW: Keening's so close, and yet so far. He just needs to reach out that
little bit further, but the ref looks like he's going to call this
first fall and award it to Demola.

MM: Keening's been trapped in this hold for quite some time now, and it
can and will do untold damage to the lower back area, especially
when executed by a submission expert such as Demola.

JW: Keening reaches to the ropes...

.

.

.

.

.

HE'S THERE!

MM: The ref's over there fast and tells Demola to break the hold.
Demola complies, and raises his hands in the air?

CD: He won! DEMOLA WINS!

JW: Not quite, Chris, but Nick seems to see it that way. Demola thinks
the first fall has gone his way, but Keening made it to the ropes.
Demola seems to be congratulating himself, but to be frank, there's
really nothing to congratulate him on.

CD: Kenning's laying in a heap on the floor and that's not worth a
congratulations?

JW: Keening rolls towards Demola, and Demola's unaware of him. Demola
is still conferring with his cornermen, and... KEENING WITH A
ROLL-UP FROM BEHIND!! This could take the first fall...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THR.... NO! Demola kicks out on two and a half!

MM: That was close though, nonetheless, and Demola looks annoyed.

JW: Frustration can well be a huge weakness. We've seen it happen many
times before in this sport, where one man gets annoyed and loses his
composure and concentration.

CD: That's not going to happen here, Worthington. Demola's a consummate
professional wrestler. Anger won't get the better of him.

JW: Both men are up, and Keening locks Demola in another headlock, and
keeps it locked on as he throws him down to the canvas. Keening has
his arms clamped together, and Demola's going nowhere.

CD: I wouldn't be too sure, Worthington. Demola rolls him up!

JW: By hooking the tights, I might add, but...

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

KEENING ROLLS BACK ONTO HIM WITH THE HEADLOCK!

MM: Keening's pumping on that headlock, and Demola's in pain.

JW: Keening's still got that locked in, and the strength he possesses
could put Demola out.

CD: Demola's not going out to a headlock, Worthington! Have *some*
sense!

JW: Demola's arm looks to be going limp. I think he might be.

CD: As I said, Demola could get put out by this!

MM: Demola though, starting to power up to his knees.

CD: As I said, Demola's not going to get put out by this!

JW: Well, Demola with that tremendous pain threshold is getting up, with
the headlock still applied. Demola backs Keening into the ropes,
and the ref's in there to try to force the break.

CD: Try being the operative word, Worthington!

JW: Well, if they don't break it, it's an instant disqualification.

MM: Demola instead, sends Keening across the ring, escaping that vicious
headlock. Keening back off the other side, but falls prey to a drop
toe hold.

CD: If he wants to win this, he's going to have to pray!

JW: Demola lays the boots into the back of Keening's neck as Keening
lays on the canvas.

MM: Both men have been working on the other man's neck throughout this
match. This is sound strategy by both competitors.

CD: I guess you could say they're really sticking their necks out!

JW: Don't even go there! Demola now, continues the assault on the neck
of Keening by setting up for a reverse neckbreaker. Demola jumps,
and...

[Crowd goes "ooohhhh" as Keening gets dropped down in the reverse
neckbreaker by Demola.]

CD: I THINK I JUST HEARD KEENING'S NECK SNAP, WORTHINGTON!

JW: I don't know about that, but Keening looks hurt. Badly hurt.

MM: Demola should cover him now. He can get that first fall.

JW: Not to mention the psychological advantage of being one fall ahead.

MM: Demola though, lifts a somewhat dazed Keening to his feet, and seems
to be setting up for a piledriver.

[The crowd breaks into fits off boos, then a "KEE-NING...KEE-NING"
chants starts up.]

CD: Yeah! This will give him the first fall, and probably the second
too! Keening will need to be scraped off of the canvas after this!

MM: Keening has certainly taken quite a lot of punishment to his neck,
with those vicious stomps, and then that jumping reverse
neckbreaker.

CD: This could be the straw that breaks the camel's back. Or in this
case, the move that breaks the Drillbit's neck!

JW: Demola goes to lift Keening into that piledriver...

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

BUT KEENING COUNTERS WITH A BACKDROP!

CD: WHAT?!?

MM: Keening seemed to be playing a certain amount of possum there, but
he drops to the canvas after Demola goes down.

JW: Keening's pretty much exhausted, and he seems to be favouring his
neck.

CD: I'm not surprised, Worthington.

MM: Demola looks annoyed that Keening countered, and Demola seems to be
looking towards a chair on the outside of the ring.

JW: If he uses it, he's disqualified.

MM: Demola is back to his feet, and so is Keening. Demola seems to be
the better off right now, as he lays a boot right into the
midsection of Jason Keening. Demola now, hooks in a front-facelock
with one arm, and grabs the Drillbit's leg with the other.

CD: He's going for The Epiphany, Worthington! That's a fisherman buster
to you non-believers!

JW: Will you stop! Demola tries to lift Keening, but Keening puts a leg
forward, preventing Demola from having the leverage to lift him.

CD: Keening's cheating!

JW: How's that cheating?

CD: My lawyers will find *something* in there that qualifies as
cheating!

MM: Demola now, on the receiving end... KEENING LIFTS HIM UP IN A
VERTICAL SUPLEX AND SLAMS HIM DOWN TO THE MAT!

[Huge amount of noise from the crowd. The "Keen-ing...Kee-ning" chant
starts up again.]

JW: An awesome way to counter Demola's fisherman buster attempt. Demola
couldn't power the three hundred pound man up, so needed the
leverage to be able to do so, only Jason Keening took that leverage
away from him and used it to his advantage. Keening now, moves
towards Demola, who's trying to back off. Keening pulls Demola to
his feet and *nails* him with a deadly European Uppercut, and again,
*and* again. Keening backs Demola into the corner, and is getting
up to the second tunbuckle while trapping Demola between himself and
the turnbuckles.

[Keening, standing on the turnbuckles, holding the corner post for
leverage, starts to pound away on the head of Demola. The ref starts to
lay the five count on him, but carried away by the crowd's fast chanting
along with the punches, Keening carries on...

CROWD: ONE

.

TWO

.

THREE

.

FOUR

.

FIVE

.

SIX

.

SEVEN

[Keening stops, jumping down from the turnbuckle as the ref reaches four
on his somewhat slow count. Predictably, some of the crowd continue to
count long after Keening has finished.]

CD: Wow, that surprises me!

MM: What? The fact that Keening is risking disqualification?

CD: No. The fact that these fans can count! Lucky we're not in
America, or there'd be problems there!

JW: Okay, *ENOUGH*!

MM: Jason Keening there, was indeed risking disqualification, but it
seems he knew what he was doing.

JW: Well, disqualifications are for an infraction of the rules. As long
as you keep within the ref's five count, there's no breaking of the
rules, therefore no disqualification.

CD: Ahh, rules, schmules!

JW: Demola who's almost out on his feet is sent into the opposite
tunbuckles by Keening. Demola hits hard, and comes out with the
momentum.

[Jason Keening runs off of the ropes, coming up from behind Keening and
nailing him with an amazing running bulldog, leaving Demola seemingly
out cold, laying on his stomach in the center of the ring. A massive
crowd pop follows, with the "KEE-NING...KEE-NING" chant starting up
again.]

CD: OH MY DEMOLA!

JW: What?

CD: I meant, OH MY GOD!

JW: Oh puh-lease!

MM: Demola hit his head hard with that move. Keening just needs to turn
Demola over and cover him, and it'll be all over.

JW: Keening though has other ideas as he drops the elbow to the back of
Demola's neck. Demola isn't moving, as Keening turns him over.
Keening with the lateral press cover, and this should be it,
folks...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

.

.

.

THRE..... NO! NO! NO! DEMOLA GOT A SHOULDER UP!

MM: WOW! What a display of resiliance by that man Nick Demola.

CD: YOU'RE THE MAN, NICK!

JW: Will you stop!

MM: Keening should have hooked the leg, but what's done is done.

CD: He should have hooked the tights!

JW: He'd have got disqualified.

CD: He shouldn't have hooked the tights!

JW: He didn't.

CD: That's what I'm saying!

JW: Oh brother!

MM: Keening looks devastated. He thought he had Nick Demola pinned for
the three count, but it wasn't to be.

[Keening looks to the ref who holds up two fingers indicating that it
wasn't a three. Keening shakes his head, indeed very upset, but goes
back over to Demola.]

JW: Keening didn't waste much time there arguing with the ref. Smart
move, since it's unlikely he's going to make the ref change his
mind, and could have risked a DQ.

CD: He still wasted some time though, Worthington. That could be the
deciding factor.

JW: That remains to be seen, as Jason Keening pulls Nick Demola up to
his feet once again. Folks, Keening must be happy as he's getting
revenge for Demola's verbal bashing of him during the Demola
Invitational Tournament.

CD: Yeah, and my invite must have been lost in the post!

JW: Or they figured with you *and* Demola on the event, there'd be no
room for the fans in the arena, what with both of your egos.

CD: Hey! I'm sitting right here! If you're going to badmouth me, at
least have the courtesy to do it behind my back!

MM: The former lead guitarist of the Californian band, The Screaming
Drillbits, is in control of this one. Keening hits a forearm smash
to the back of the neck of Demola and lifts him up onto his shoulder
with a scoop. It looks like we could have a running powerslam here.

JW: Shades of English wrestling sensation Davey Boy Smith, if Keening
can hit with this move, and the fans know it's coming.

[Mega-pop from the fans, realising what move Keening is going for - the
running powerslam, infamous in the UK.]

JW: Keening starts the run up, and...

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

DEMOLA SLIDES OUT THE BACK DOOR!! DEMOLA IS FAST AND LOCKS IN A
CROSS FACE CHICKEN WING!!

[The crowd boos, as Demola fully locks it in.]

CD: Give it up, Keening! You'll *never* get out of this one!

JW: An amazing display of technical finesse by Nick "The Bulldogg"
Demola there, folks. He knows a counter for every move in the book,
and he showed it right there.

CD: The Drillbit is *really* Screaming now, Worthington!

[Demola keeps on the pressure, as Keening drops down to the mat, still
in the hold.]

MM: This is putting a lot of pressure on the neck of Jason Keening.
He's already sustained some severe damage there earlier in this
match. One can only wonder if he'll be able to last in this hold.
Perhaps giving up, and giving the first fall to Demola, having a
rest and coming back with the hope to level the score at one a piece
in the second fall might be the best strategy for Keening, or he
could end up with permanent damage.

JW: I don't think Keening's the kind of man who'll give up, ever, but
Demola is really working away on the neck of Keening. This move
could do it as the ref is asking Keening if he wants to throw in the
towel.

[The ref holds one hand up towards the time keeper, as he drops to the
mat where Keening has been worn down to by Demola. The ref yells
towards Keening who shakes his head vigorously.]

MM: Referee James Burton there, asking Keening, but Keening is saying no
way. Keening's going to have to find a counter to this, or he's
doomed.

JW: He's a little too far from the ropes to be able to make it there, so
this could be all for the first fall, folks.

MM: Keening continues to shake his head, as the ref continues to ask
him. There's just no give in this man.

CD: Not yet at least, Masterson! Only a matter of time.

JW: Demola is really *wrenching* Keening's neck with this hold. Keening
*has* to be an agony here.

MM: Demola with the hold applied as Audiet on the outside is offering
Keening moral support.

CD: That's about as effective as a one legged man in an ass kicking
contest, Masterson!

JW: Sadly, in this first fall, there isn't a lot "The Hart Surgeon"
James Audiet can do. The ref is in there to enforce the rules, and
enforce them he will.

MM: Keening's fading. JASON KEENING IS FADING FROM THIS FALL!

JW: The ref is checking on Keening and there's no response. He looks to
the time keeper. Will he call it in favour of Demola? I'd say
that's a certaintly at this point, folks. Burton, the ref, checks
the arm of "Screaming Drillbit" Jason Keening...

.

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IT DROPS ONCE!...

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IT DROPS TWICE!...

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IT DROPS A THIR... NO! JASON KEENING HOLDS ON BY A THREAD! Keening
keeps his arm partially in the air and Demola looks *furious*.

MM: Well, Nick Demola is known for his temper costing him matches. If
he doesn't keep his composure at a time like this, Keening will have
no trouble in turning things around.

CD: Tell that to Keening, Masterson! He's been caught in a Cross Face
Chicken Wing for the last few minutes, and you're saying he'll turn
it around.

JW: Jason Keening is trying to power out of this one. The three hundred
plus pound power-house is going to make it, folks!

[CROWD: "KEE-NING...KEE-NING"]

CD: I wouldn't be too sure of that, Worthington. Demola knows what he's
doing.

MM: And as does Keening as he's up to one knee now. Keening continues
to power out of the move, and he's up to his feet now. Demola is
still holding onto him, and Keening is standing right up with Demola
on his back... KEENING FALLS BACK AND *DRIVES* DEMOLA INTO THE
CANVAS!

JW: BOTH MEN ARE DOWN! BOTH MEN ARE DOWN!

MM: Keening is clutching his neck. He's hurt, but so is Demola who took
an early beating at the hands of Keening. Both men have had their
shots in, but both have taken a lot of punishment too. That
exhaustion level has more than set in right now, and the first fall
has not yet even occurred.

JW: I'd say it will be pretty imminent at this rate, as Demola staggers
to his feet, and Keening uses to the ropes to get up too. Keening
is still favouring that neck, and I don't blame him, as the two men
move towards the center of the ring. Keening is mustering up all
the remaining strength he has and goes for a big roundhouse right...
DEMOLA DUCKS AND KEENING IS OFF-BALANCE!! DEMOLA SPINS KEENING
AROUND...

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GERMAN SUPLEX!!!

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ONE

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TWO

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THR... KICKOUT! JASON KEENING KICKED OUT!!

[Huge crowd pop. Back to the chants for Keening.]

CD: I can't believe it, Worthington! How did he?! But?! Wha'?!

JW: A confused Chris Douglas looks on as Keening kicked out.

MM: Keening was dropped right onto the back of his head and neck. A
neck brace might be necessary after this match for Jason Keening.

JW: You can tell Keening wants this bad, but then so does Demola. It's
all about who wants it most as Demola, furious at the referee starts
to complain about a slow count.

MM: I have to say, the ref was slightly out of position from my
view-point. Had he dropped down quicker, it might have been a three
count.

CD: Yeah, I agree! Award the fall to Demola!

JW: I can't see that happening right now though, as the ref is issuing
Demola with a warning that if he argues again, it's a DQ.#

MM: Demola is angry, but things don't look good for Keening. Demola
pulls Keening up, and sends him into the ropes. Keening comes off
of the other side...

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SLEEPERHOLD APPLIED!!

JW: GOODNIGHT! Nick Demola has a sleeper locked in on Keening, and it's
locked in well. Just how much more punishment can this man Jason
Keening take?

MM: Not much more I wouldn't mind betting, as he's being put to sleep
right now.

CD: With your play-by-play, Masterson, I'm not surprised!

JW: Enough! Demola has that sleeper tenaciously locked on, and it looks
like Keening is going nowhere. The air will not be going to his
head all the time he's in this hold, and not only is that dangerous,
but it'll knock you out in a hurry.

MM: The ref is checking the hold to make sure it's not a choke, and he
goes to check the arm of Keening, which has seemingly lost all of
it's power...

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IT DROPS ONCE...

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IT DROPS A SECOND TIME...

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IT DROPS A THIRD TIME?...

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NO! KEENING HOLDS HIS ARM UP, AND HE RAMS HIS ELBOW INTO THE
MIDSECTION OF NICK DEMOLA, LOOSENING THAT HOLD SLIGHTLY! AGAIN,
KEENING WITH ANOTHER ELBOWSMASH INTO DEMOLA'S MIDSECTION... and
Demola's lost his grip on it.

JW: Keening takes a huge gasp of air in, and pulls Demola's head towards
him... CHINBREAKER!

CD: That'll stun you!

[The stunned Nick Demola remains on his feet, but clutches his chin as
Jason Keening kicks him in the midsection, doubling him over. Keening
follows up immediately with a kneelift to the face to bring him back
upright and then a European uppercut to snap his his head back. Keening
wastes no time and immediately hooks Demola into a legsweep faceslam,
driving him into the mat.]

JW: GOOD LORD! Out of nowhere, Jason Keening has turned this around!
He looks to the crowd, and drops down, covering Demola as the fans
chant his name once again. He's done it! Jason Keening has the
first fall in his favour. It's just a matter of formality as the
ref drops down...

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ONE

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TWO

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THR... DEMOLA KICKS OUT! DEMOLA SOMEHOW MANAGED TO KICK OUT!!

CD: YES! YES! YES! He did it! Demola kicked out!

[The crowd are absolutely in a state of shock, yelling and screaming, as
Jason Keening stands up, head in his hands as he realises that the first
fall is still up for grabs.]

MM: I...I...can't believe Demola kicked out. He kicked out on instinct
alone.

JW: You've got to hand it to Nick Demola. He can take an seemingly
infinite amount of pain and still get up.

CD: He's proved it to me, Worthington! I say we hand Demola the Night
of Glory Trophy right now!

JW: Demola now, has rolled over towards the ropes, and he's pulling
himself up. I'm not sure that he knows exactly where is he as
Keening moves in.

[Keening moves closer to Demola, and Demola drops to his knees and hits
Keening with a low blow in full view of the referee. An "OOOHHH" comes
from the crowd as they feel Keening's pain, while the ref turns to the
time keeper, shaking his hand, and the time keeper rings the bell.]

CD: Wha'?!

[The ref walks over to the time keeper, whom he confers with.]

JW: Referee James Burton has called for the bell. It would seem that
Demola's been disqualified for that low blow.

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention, please.
Due to the nature of this first fall, in which any violation of the
rules, however mild or blatant gives rise to a disqualification, the
breach of rules by Nick Demola has forced him to be disqualified.

[Huge, and I mean *H*U*G*E* pop from the crowd.]

Mark Edwards: Therefore, the winner of the first fall... "SCREAMING
DRILLBIT"... JASON KEEEEEEENING!!

[The huge pop from the crowd continues as Keening almost falls over to
his corner. The ref forces and argumentative and almost furious Nick
Demola back into his corner.]

Mark Edwards: After a brief recess for both participants, the second
fall will be... NO HOLDS BARRED... FALLS COUNT *A*N*Y*W*H*E*R*E*!!

[Another huge crowd pop.]

CD: Barbaric-loving fools!

JW: I am still in a state of shock. Both men kicked out of almost all
of each other's best moves, and yet one mistake, one act in which
anger got the better of him, lead Nick Demola to get disqualified.

MM: Well, Keening has the psychological advantage that we've been
talking about, but he certainly doesn't look like he's in any
postition to be called the one with the advantage. The next fall is
no holds barred. It's no secret that this is more Demola's forte
than Keening's, so the question will be, will Demola get this next
fall, levelling it at one a piece, or will Keening beat Demola at
his own game and win the match two to nothing.

CD: This next one's Demola's, Masterson! Count on it!

MM: Well, I beg to differ, as Demola is still angry, and that's his
major flaw.

CD: His major what?! What *are* you talking about, Masterson?! Like
me, Nick Demola is flawless!

JW: Folks, there's only one way to find out, and that's right here with
fall number two. The ref's calling both men to the center of the
ring.

[DING DING!]

MM: Audiet with some final words of encouragement to Jason Keening who
he came to support here tonight. Audiet, of course, trained in the
infamous Dungeon in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, and winner of the
Garneau Plate Tournament is not one to be messed with, and with no
holds barred, he is able to interfere at will.

JW: Well, it's not in the nature of Keening or Audiet to cheat, and I
imagine Audiet's presence is due to the fact that Demola is well
known for having plenty of ringside assistance.

MM: And here's a collar and elbow tie up... No! Nick Demola with a
kneelift slows down Jason Keening. Demola with another knee to
Keening's midsection, and again. Keening is doubled over, as Nick
Demola lays into him with some smashes to the back of the head and
the neck.

CD: Carrying on how he almost finished the last one, with working on
that injured body part, the next area. I like it.

JW: Demola now, sends Keening into the ropes. Demola runs in fast and a
big clothesline... SENDS KEENING TO THE OUTSIDE!!

MM: Wow! Nick Demola just sent the three-hundred plus pound Sreaming
Drillbit to the outside. Awesome use of leverage.

JW: Demola is climbing through the ropes, and he too is on the outside
of the ring. Nick Demola now, taunting Jason Keening as he picks
him up by the hair. Demola with a vicious chop to the chest of
Keening, and again. Demola with a whip into the guard-rail... BUT
KEENING REVERSES IT!! Demola is sent hard into the guard-rail and
the momentum carries him out. Keening grabs a hold of him as he
rebounds, and... BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX RIGHT ON THE CONCRETE FLOOR!!
Demola rolls away, and he's clutching his back. Keening though,
right back on the offensive and picks Demola up... BODYSLAM! Again,
right down there on the concrete floor.

MM: That'll leave a mark on Demola's back.

CD: I guess you could say Keening's *back* in control!

JW: Keening now, with a cover... Hooks the leg...

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ONE

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TWO

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.

KICKOUT!

MM: Demola with the kickout there, and he's still in this thing.
Keening is one to nothing up and is looking to make it two zip.

CD: He can look all he wants, Masterson. This is Demola's forte, and
he'll get the fall.

JW: Well, it certainly doesn't look that way, as Jason Keening pulls
Demola to his feet and throws him back into the ring.

CD: He should work on him on the outside, Worthington. There's plenty
of weapons out there.

JW: Well, Jason Keening has a lot more sportsmanship in him than that as
he runs off the ropes with Demola still down. Keening with an elbow
drop... Demola rolls out of the way. Demola is back up to his feet
and Keening drove his own elbow into the canvas right here. Demola
with a quick stomp to the elbow of Keening, and again. Keening
grabs his elbow in pain, but starts to get up. Demola now, grabs
onto that seemingly injured arm of Jason Keening, and there's and
armringer. Demola now, twists at the arm of Keening, and drops him
to the canvas in an arm-bar motion. Demola keeps the armbar locked
on, and Keening's caught in it.

CD: The Drillbit's Screaming again, Worthington!

JW: This kind of move can be extremely punishing, especially to an
injured limb, but I have no doubt on Keening being able to find a
way out, as he reaches towards the ropes. Keening grabs for the
ropes...

CD: Was that a tap out?

JW: It certainly was not.

CD: Was not what?

JW: A tap out.

CD: A TAP OUT?!? There was a tap out?!?

JW: I'm not even going to bother. Keening has reached the ropes, folks,
and the ref is trying to persuade Demola to release the hold.

CD: Good Luck. This is no holds barred. Demola doesn't have to do
smack.

JW: You're running an anti-drugs campaign now?

CD: Quiet, Worthington, and call the match!

JW: Well, the referee is powerless to do anything about this. Keening
is trapped in an armbar, and has reached the ropes, but Demola isn't
letting go.

CD: He is now, Worthington.

JW: (Sarcastically) How very nobel.

CD: You thought so too?!

MM: Demola with another stomp to that arm, and kicks Keening to the
outside of the ring. This is a brutal assault by Demola as he goes
through the ropes and to the ring apron.

JW: Keening is rising, but Demola with a double axe-handle from the
apron right across Keening's upper back and neck area.

MM: Cover by Nick Demola, and the ref gets into position...

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ONE

.

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TWO

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.

THR... KICKOUT!

JW: Keening holding on.

CD: By a thread, Worthington. It's only a matter of time.

JW: Demola looks frustrated, and this is what lost him that first fall,
as he picks Keening up and drops him down with a side backbreaker.
Demola should be looking to get the pin here, but instead he turns
his attentions to James Audiet.

[Nick Demola points towards Audiet and yells a few words at him. Audiet
starts to move towards Demola, but Demola points the ref towards him,
who attempts to persuade Audiet not to interfere. Audiet complies, but
Demola uses the time to choke Jason Keening with a television cord. The
crowd starts to boo wildly.]

CD: He's getting quite a reception there, Worthington!

JW: ARGH!

CD: Get it?

JW: Yes, I get it.

CD: It's a play on words, Worthington. Double meaning, with reception
both meaning from the TV cord...

JW: (Interrupting) Yes, we know.

CD: (Ignoring him) ...and from the crowd.

JW: (Sarcastically) Wow. Has anyone ever told you that you should be
stand-up comic?

CD: Why, yes!

JW: Well I'd LOVE some of what they're on!

MM: The ref sees Demola with that choke on Keening with the cord, but
again he's powerless to break it up. Demola though, holds off the
choke and drops a leg right across the already injured neck of
Keening. Demola with the cover...

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ONE

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TWO

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.

.

KEENING LIFTS A SHOULDER!

JW: Nick Demola now, moving towards those steel ringsteps, and he's
trying to lift them. Demola picks them up... AND DUMPS THEM RIGHT
ON THE BACK OF JASON KEENING!! Nick Demola, not finished with the
assault now, moves towards the time keeper's table, and you can only
wonder what weapon he'll be looking towards.

CD: Survey says... It's a chair!

MM: Demola throws the time keeper out of his chair, and folds it up. He
lifts it high above his head and brings it down right across
Keening's back. Demola drops the chair, and throws Keening over the
guard-rail and into the crowd. Demola jumps over the guard-rail
himself and pushes a couple of fans out of their seats.

CD: Ahh, they probably got in without paying anyway.

JW: Demola rams the head of Keening into the chairs, and covers him
right there in the crowd area. The ref leaps the guard-rail and
starts the count...

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ONE

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.

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TWO

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.

KEENING KICKS OUT!

MM: That'll annoy Demola. He's thrown everything but the kitchen sink
at Jason Keening, but still, he can't put the Drillbit away.

CD: Only a matter of time, Masterson.

MM: So you keep saying, as Demola now, throws Keening back over the
guard-rail. Demola reaches for the chair and looks towards Audiet.
Audiet advances towards Demola, ignoring the chair in Demola's hand.

JW: Audiet is courageous, that's for sure.

CD: That's what you call it? I call it stupidity!

JW: Demola throws the chair into the ring, and Audiet backs off. Demola
follows in, after the chair, and picks it up. Keening is starting
to rise to his feet, and Demola has the chair.

CD: Yeah! Let's play guess what happens next!

[Demola goes to swing the chair, but Keening, aware of it, dropkicks the
chair into the face of Demola.]

JW: Whatta move by Jason Keening!

CD: I think there's an imprint of Demola's face in that chair,
Worthington!

JW: It looks to be that way, as Keening starts to shake off the cobwebs.
Jason Keening pulls Demola into position for a... POWERBOMB ONTO THE
CHAIR! DEMOLA IS OUT COLD!!

[Keening grabs the chair, but throws it to the outside of the ring. A
fan reaches over the guard-rail and grabs the chair.]

MM: Now there's a souvenir for a lucky fan!

JW: Keening there, refusing to use the chair to his advantage as he
covers the Bulldogg...

.

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ONE

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.

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TWO

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.

.

.

THR... DEMOLA KICKS OUT!

MM: That was close. My oh my, was that ever close.

CD: He shouldn't have gotten rid of the chair. Had he gone for the pin
immediately, he'd have been better off.

JW: Well, you can talk about what would have been, but Keening certainly
is not doing that as he pulls Demola up, and goes back to work on
Demola's neck with a flurry of forearm smashes.

MM: Keening, using his ring smarts is continually working on the neck.
This is the perfect set up for Keening's finishing move, that
Drilldown one-man spiked piledriver. If he hits that on Demola, the
Bulldogg will be easy pickings.

JW: That's true, though I have to say, Jason Keening is not using the
weapons allowed in this match to his advantage. He'll use them in
defense, but does not seem to want to take advantage of them.

CD: Tell that to Demola's face, Worthington!

JW: Keening now, appears to be setting up for that Drilldown as we
speak.

CD: He's too close to the ropes for that, Worthington. Demola only has
to reach out, and...

[Demola indeed reaches for the ropes and uses the leverage to backdrop
Jason Keening over the top rope and to the floor.]

JW: Good God!

CD: Demola's always one step ahead of his opponent, Worthington, and he
proved it there.

[Nick Demola follows Keening to the outside, and lifts up the thin
padding on the concrete floor.]

MM: This *will* hurt...

[Demola lifts Keening up for a piledriver, or starts to at least.
Instead, Jason Keening reverses the move into a backdrop sending Demola
onto the concrete. Demola almost immediately bounces back up, though
slightly dazed and confused, but is met with the huge arm of Jason
Keening coming at his neck with a clothesline.]

JW: Ouch! That almost decapitated Demola, as Keening backs off while
Demola starts to get up once again. It looks like Keening is going
for another clothesline...

[Indeed he does. However, this time Demola moves out of the way, and
the momentum carries Jason Keening over the guard-rail and into the
seating area once again.]

CD: I've heard of ring-side seats, but this is ridiculous!

JW: Well, as Keening went to the well one too many times, Demola was
able to capitalise on the mistake. Demola pulls Keening back over
the guard-rail and throws him back into the ring. Demola follows
him in, and sets him up for what appears to be a vertical suplex...

[Demola turns the front-facelock starting point into the suplex, but
looks to be unable to fully lift the mass of Keening all the way up into
the air. About half-way up, Demola decides to drop Keening over the top
rope, one leg on either side. A tremendous "OOOOHHHHH" is heard, almost
solely from the males in the crowd.]

CD: OW! That'll spoil his weekend!

JW: Or someone else's!

CD: An old routine, but a good one, Worthington!

[Keening is left on the top rope, precariously, with one leg on either
side. Demola runs off of the ropes and shoulderblocks Keening off of
the ropes, and almost to the outside. However, Keening manages to hold
on to the ropes with his hands, and manages to pull himself back up to
the ring apron.]

JW: What athleticism by Jason Keening. Demola though, walks over and
lays a boot through the ropes into Keening's midsection. Demola
with a front face-lock from the inside of the ring, with Keening on
the apron on the other side of the ropes. I have a feeling Demola's
going to try that suplex again...

[Demola attempts the vertical suplex back into the ring, but the power
of Keening gives him control as he starts to lift Demola up, ready to
suplex him out of the ring and to the floor. Demola though, grabs onto
the top rope, and in mid-air turns around, pulling Keening with him in a
DDT motion...

.

.

.

RIGHT THROUGH A TABLE.]

JW: FOLKS! DEMOLA WITH A DDT FROM THE RING APRON RIGHT THROUGH THE
FRENCH COMMENTATOR'S TABLE!

[The camera focusses on the French commentator's table.]

Pierre: Je n'aime pas ca!

Jacques: Pierre, c'est magnifique! Nick Demola est tres bon!

[The ref moves down to the broken table, where Demola manages to place
his arm across the chest of Keening, as Keening's shoulders are both on
the floor.]

JW: In amongst this mess, the ref is starting a count...

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ONE

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TWO

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.

THREE!!

[Tremendous amount of boos from the crowd.]

Mark Edwards: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN... THE WINNER OF FALL TWO... NICK
"THE BULLDOGG" DEMOOOOOLAAAAAA!!

CD: He did it, Worthington! Nick Demola has taken the second fall!
It's one all now!

JW: It is indeed, as Demola did it in style.
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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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Mark Edwards: The referee has informed me that after a brief period of
rest for both participants, the third fall will be contested under
regular wrestling rules.

CD: I think they'll need more than a brief period of rest, Worthington.
Look at them both!

JW: Well, I have to agree. Neither of them look in any kind of
condition to wrestle this last fall with the stamina that they did
in the first. However, you can bet that they both have the
intensity there to carry on.

[Both wrestlers start making their way back into the ring. Demola is
first in as he moves towards his corner, and Keening follows a few
seconds later.]

MM: You can tell they've both been completely worn out, but this isn't
over yet.

JW: The ref there, acknowledging that they're both ready to continue as
he calls for the bell once again.

[DING DING]

MM: Both men approach each other, but Demola is fast with a drop-toe
hold. Demola tries for what appears to be a cross-face chicken
wing, but Keening is to the ropes and the ref forces the break.

JW: Remember, folks, that this fall is the final fall and is contested
under official wrestling rules. Therefore, constant breaking of the
rules, will be grounds for a disqualification.

MM: Demola backs off, as instructed by the fed, and Keening is allowed
to get to his feet. Demola moves in again... But Keening is fast in
this time with an armdrag takedown. Demola is right back up, but
Keening grabs onto his arm and executes another armdrag takedown.
Demola looks annoyed as he rolls to the outside of the ring.

CD: Smart move, Nick. Take your time.

[Keening, still inside the ring, walks over to where Demola is standing
on the outside. Keening reaches down to pull Demola back up to the
ring, but Demola grabs onto both of Keening's legs and pulls, dropping
Keening to the canvas and pulling him to the outside.]

JW: Great resourcefulness by Demola. In this fall, countouts will be
included, and as you can see, the ref is administering the count
now.

REF: 1

[Both men start trading rights and lefts.]

REF: 2

3

[Keening executes a headbutt, giving him the advantage.]

REF: 4

5

[Slowly but surely, Keening scoops Demola up and slams him down on the
outside. Keening climbs back into the ring, and the ref restarts the
count.]

REF: 1

2

3

JW: Keening looks to be going for a countout victory in this final fall.
A sound plan, since both men are perhaps worn down enough already.
Either of them could be susceptable to something like this.

REF: 4

5

[Demola uses the ring to help himself up and climbs back in. Keening
walks over to him, though allows Demola to get up under his own power.]

JW: Demola is back up, and Keening is being quite the sportsman there.
Keening locks Demola in what looks like some sort of modified
bearhug... AND TURNS IT INTO A NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!! The ref's
in position, and this could be enough...

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THRE... NO! DEMOLA KICKS OUT!

MM: Unbelievable! Keening pulls Demola back up, and locks him in a
headlock. Keening runs... BULLDOG ON THE BULLDOGG?... NO! Demola
throws Keening off, and Keening lands hard. Keening gets back up,
and moves towards Demola, but gets met with a kneelift.

[Demola then gets Keening into the Double Arm DDT position before
locking his legs around Keening's waist and dropping down. Demola keeps
the leg scissors and double underhook locked on.]

CD: THE VICE LOCK!! THAT'S THE VICE LOCK, WORTHINGTON!! NICK DEMOLA'S
PATENTED FINISHING MOVE!!

JW: Folks, Demola has it locked on. The submissions expert from Rahway,
New Jersey has Keening in a lot of trouble, right in the center of
the ring. Keening is not a quitter, but I don't see any way out of
this for him.

MM: As much as I hate to agree with you both, I'm going to have to.
Keening put up one heckuva fight, but Demola has proven to be the
better man on the day.

JW: Well, it's not over yet, as the ref asks Keening if he wants to call
it quits. Keening says no, but he's not going to be able to hold on
for long. This is one of the most punishing submission moves in the
sport, and when applied by Demola, there is no way out.

MM: Keening is trying to reach for that bottom rope, but to be honest,
he's a long way away.

CD: He'd better keep that arm out though, Masterson. He'll need it for
tapping in a few moments!

MM: Well, it looks like he's going to have to unless he wants to suffer
permanent damage to those muscles located in th...

JW: WHAT THE...?!?

[Camera pans to the aisleway. Juan Vasquez and Thomas Hunter, Demola's
bodyguards are seen walking towards the ring. The 6'8", 300 lb. Vasquez
and the 6'5" martial artist Hunter approach the ring as Demola look up
and sees them.]

MM: Well, Demola said this was a match he wanted to win by himself, and
right until this moment he was winning by himself. I just question
why these two are out here? Was Demola tricking us, or are they
here to help out Jason Keening and to turn on Demola?

[After seeing them walking towards the ring, Nick Demola immediately
releases the painful hold on Keening. Demola rolls to the outside and
starts to walk towards his two bodyguards, pointing and yelling at them.
James Audiet, also on the outside watches closely, but keeps a fair
amount of distance.]

JW: Demola is *livid*! He's screaming at his bodyguards to get out of
the stadium, and both Vasquez and Hunter are unsure of what's going
on.

MM: Keening is still in the ring, and while he's in pain, he's being
given time to recover. I just can't understand why Demola released
the hold and went to the outside. Had he kept the hold on, he'd be
getting his hand raised in victory right about now.

JW: That much is a given, but I wouldn't mind suggesting that Demola's
reason for berating his bodyguards is that they disobeyed him.
Demola cannot handle *anyone* disobeying him, the self-proclaimed
God of wrestling.

CD: I'd be pretty pissed too if I were God, Worthington!

JW: Vasquez and Hunter are now walking back to the locker room area.
Demola is shaking his head in disapproval of what just happened.
Demola gets back into the ring, and as Keening is trying to get up,
Demola lays a boot into his midsection. The Bulldogg now, looks
towards the locker room area. He seems more interested in where
Vasquez and Hunter have gone than on this match. His temper has
once again gotten the better of him as he sends Keening into the
ropes with an irish whip. Keening though, holds on and reverses it,
sending Demola in. Demola on the rebound... kick to the midsection
by Keening winds Demola. Keening looks to be setting up... It's...

.

.

.

.

.

THE DRILLDOWN!! JASON KEENING WITH THE DRILLDOWN ON NICK DEMOLA!!
THAT'S IT, FOLKS!! THAT'LL DO IT!! The ref is in position as
Keening hooks the leg...

.

ONE

.

.

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

.

THREE!!

[HUGE crowd pop.]

MM: KEENING WINS! KEENING WINS!

CD: Fast count! NO! Fast count, Masterson!

[DING DING]

[The pop continues as Demola rolls out of the ring, and with as much
haste as possible, makes his way towards the locker room, shouting for
his bodyguards. James Audiet gets into the ring to celebrate with Jason
Keening.]

Mark Edwards: LAAAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN... HERE IS YOUR WINNER...

[Both the ref and Audiet raise one arm each of Jason Keening.]

Mark Edwards: ... "SSSSCREAMING DRILLBIT"... JJJJJASON KEEEEEEEENING!!

[Mega crowd pop.]

CD: I can't believe it, Worthington!

JW: Neither can these fans in attendance, or indeed Keening for that
matter, as he seems awestuck by the fans' response to his victory.
Garneau Plate Memorial Tournament winner James Audiet and The
Screaming Drillbit are loved by this capacity crowd. Folks, that
was a match to be remembered, not only for Keening and Demola, but
for everyone in attendance and viewing around the world.

CD: Not to mention Pierre and Jacques, the now without-commentating
equipment French commentators!

MM: Hang on guys, we've got company.

[The cheers from the crowd become louder and louder, as Creed comes into
view, walking with a slight limp. A large bandage covers his forehead,
though a single spot of dried blood remains on his cheek. He takes his
time, his wounds apparent, but his face speaks of a force of will that
ignores the pain until the competition is complete.]

Creed: So I suppose you three are going to sit here like See No Evil,
Hear No Evil, and Speak No Evil, trying to convince me that you
know *nothing* about the plot to keep me out of this event! And
you!

[Creed swings his arm up like a wrecking ball, leveling an accusatory
finger at Douglas as though it were a deadly weapon. His voice, as cold
and furious as a blizzard yet hard as steel, echoes the rage visible in
his battered body.]

Creed: I think if you have an 'agenda' you need settled - if you're
precious reputation can't stand the thought of walking out of
Wembley Stadium without being humiliated, then go get yourself a
shrink! I'm not here to validate your insecure inadequacies, you
got problems because you can't get the better of me, we can
settle this elsewhere. Wherever. Whenever.

CD: I have only one question. Who the hell are you?

[Douglas almost continues to speak, but Creed steps forward in a
threatening manner, causing Chris to hesitate.]

Creed: Hey, just shut up. These people don't want to hear you defend
yourself. Maybe you locked me in, maybe you didn't. I can't
prove it one way or another, I know. But I *do* know that you're
the one running this show, and you certainly didn't see to it
that the problem was fixed!

[The boos and jeers rise from the crowd to a level where normal
conversation is difficult. Douglas is forced to duck a few thrown
objects from the fans, though security is swift about removing the
unruly ruffians.]

Creed: I'm not here to play your chess game, *KING* Douglas...

[Chris makes a face as if Creed was genuinly referring to him as a
King.]

Creed: I'm not the one to sit on a throne and watch over. Obviously,
I'm no queen. But I sure the hell ain't your pawn, either!

[Fans start to cheer Creed on, some even starting to chant his name,
supporting his rebellion against the authority figure of Chris Douglas.]

Creed: I'm not the knight or the bishop, with causes or quests, leaving
them tied up in restrictive movements. I'm not a rook, so driven
to follow blindly that he can only go in one direction. I'm not
any of those.

[The fans cheer louder, awaiting his next remark.]

Creed: You know what I am? Do you?

[Creed approaches Douglas, until the two men who are nearly nose to
nose.]

Creed: I'm the guy who takes all the pieces, puts them where he wants
them, and wins the damn game. And that's what I'm gonna do.

[Backing up, Creed works his shoulder in a circle, as if trying to
loosen a stiff muscle, then continues to speak while Douglas points to
the shoulder in a mocking fashion.]

Creed: You won't be playing me under your rules. I've just been through
one of the most brutal matches of my life, but I'm far from done.
I'm coming back to step into that battle royale, and after I've
beaten every one you've got left, I'm going to do something worse
than giving you the finger, or beating you up.

CD: Oh yeah? What's that? You're going to challenge me to a game of
chess by the sounds of things.

Creed: I'm going to walk out of your precious little event as the
biggest winner of them all.

CD: (Interrupting) Winner? Don't you mean whiner.

Creed: (Ignoring him) Me, Creed - the guy you can't stand, and the one
man who you can't get the better of...

CD: (Cutting in) More than a couple of dozen times.

Creed: (Ignoring him) I'll be the true Night of Glory victor, and all
you can do is sit back and think about how you couldn't stop it
from happening.

And if you even *think* of trying to stop me again, you'll Face
the Creed just like anyone else will in that Battle Royale. And
just like them, you'll be left AT! THE!

[crowd joins in]

END OF THE LINE!

[Creed tosses the microphone at Douglas, and storms off, the crowd
erupting in support for the irate brawler as he raises his arms in
response to the fans.]

CD: (Over the house mic) That's right. Walk away like you always do,
Creed. Say your piece, talk the talk, and then walk. As in walk
*out*.

[Creed turns back to stare at Douglas who mocking gives the "End of the
Line" sign. Creed starts to walk back towards Douglas, but security is
quick to get involved by persuading Creed to go back to the locker room
area.]

JW: Well, folks, as Chris Douglas gets involved in *another* dispute out
here, I can tell you that it is now official. "Cowboy" Ken Curtis
and Ethan de Sade *will* definitely be in the battle royal.

CD: And rightly so!

MM: I would tend to... (spoken really fast) agreewithChris.

CD: You'd what, Masterson?!

MM: You heard.

______________________________________________________________
| _ __ ______ |
| / | / /___ / ____/ MAIN EVENT PART 1 |
| / |/ / __ \/ /___ MYERS/TAYLOR/HANSEN |
| / /| / /_/ / /_/ / vs. |
| /_/ |_/\____/\____/ RONNIE D/PORTER/LEBEC |
| "AN EVENING OF STARS" Writer: ME! |
|______________________________________________________________|

Mark Edwards: LAAAAAAAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! The following match is a
Six Man Tag Team Match scheduled for one fall and is the first half of
our Epic Double Main Event!!

[Huge pop.]

JW: Main event time, folks.

CD: What? It's time for me?

JW: Nope, it's time for a legitimate main event.

CD: HEY!

Mark Edwards: Introducing first... from Memphis, Tennessee, weighing in
at two-hundred and forty pounds and representing The Body Shop... The
ICON of Wrestling...

"DREEEEEEEEAMLOVER"

TREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY

PORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTER!!!!!!!!

["Dreamlover" Trey Porter walks down the aisle with a big smirk on his
face while doing the FARGO STRUT. The fans have a mixed, yet monsterous
response, with some booing since he's connected to the Body Shop and
other cheering, simply because he's Trey Porter. DTP wears black tights
with "Dreamlover" written on the back and red broken hearts on them. He
also has a white glove on his right hand, and his long blond hair is
tied in a ponytail. DTP climbs through the ropes and turns to the
camera as a fireworks display goes off behind him. A lit heart lowers
from the ceiling...

******** ********
**** **** **** ****
**** **** ****
**** ** ****
**** "THE ICON" ****
**** ****
**** "D R E A M L O V E R" ****
**** ****
**** T R E Y ****
**** ****
**** P O R T E R ****
**** ****
**** ****
****
**

...as Porter enjoys the fans' response.]

CD: GOOD GAWD, Worthington! It's Trey Porter!

JW: We promised you a night of surprises, and perhaps the biggest one
was the change to the first half of the main event to include
Porter, Lebec, Taylor and Hansen.

Mark Edwards: His tag team partners...

[The lights extinguish, and pink spotlights pan the arena, causing the
little children to scream. A red heart-monitor graph appears on the big
screen, as slow beeps go faster and faster, causing the heart monitor to
go faster. Suddenly, the heart monitor flatlines, as a piercing beep
resounds through the arena. The long beep stops, and the flatline forms
the words

MARQUEE MAN

The words quickly scroll off to the side, and just as soon, the flatline
forms

ICON

As soon as those words scroll off, the word

GOD OF WRESTLING

blip across the screen. Then, as "So Wha'cha Want" by the Beastie Boys
kicks in and the pink spotlights converge around the toop of the aisle,
the infamous logo hits the big screen

.-"""-. .-"""-.
/ `..' \
| P L A Y B O Y |
___ ___ _ _ _ _ ___ ___ ___
| _ \/ _ \| \| | \| |_ _| __| | \
| / (_) | .` | .` || || _| | |) |
|_|_\\___/|_|\_|_|\_|___|___| |___/
`\ /'
`\ /'
`\/'

The girls scream and the rest of the crowd boos as the curtains burst
open.]

Mark Edwards: ...From every young girl's dreams... Representing The Body
Shop... "SHOOOOOOOOOOOOWSTOPPER" SIMON LEBEC and PLAYBOY RONNNNNNNNNNIE
DEEEEEEEEEEE!!

[Clad in black vinyl chaps with little red hearts on the legs, and a
black vinyl vest with red hearts and vinyl fingerless gloves on, Ronnie
dances his way down the aisle with Lebec by his side. The fans boo like
they've never boo'd before, and Lebec and D look pleased with the
response as they climb into the ring and walk over to talk with Porter.]

CD: Those are the men that'll put an end to Myers right here tonight,
Worthington!

Mark Edwards: And their opponents...

[Massive crowd pop as "Thunderstruck" by AC/DC starts to play over the
loudspeakers.]

Mark Edwards: Making his way towards the ring, from Boston,
Massachusetts, weighing in at two-hundred and thirty pounds... "THUNDER"
CURTIS HANSEN!!

[Fireworks begin to fly as pyrotechnics explode in mid-ring while the
curtain parts and "Thunder" Curtis Hansen steps out. He seems to soak
up the cheers from the crowd as he walks slowly towards the ring. He
leaps up onto the apron and over the top rope to a thunderous ovation,
and raises his arms in the air before taking off his jacket. The
referee is quick to stand inbetween him and the Body Shop before any
fight can break out.]

JW: Quick thinking by the ref, or we'd have had a three-on-one attack
again here tonight.

CD: C'mon! Just let them fight! Start the chant with me, Worthington!

Mark Edwards: His tag team partner...

["My Own Prison" starts up over the loudspeaker.]

Mark Edwards: ...From Tombstone, Arizona... weighing in at two-hundred
and sixty-five pounds and representing the Cult of Personality... "THE
OUTLAW" BOBBY TAYLOR!!

[The fans cheer on Taylor, as he makes his way to the ring, wearing his
Outlaw match, black trunks, a black Stetson hat and cowboy boots.
Taylor steps into the ring, not only keeping his distance from The Body
Shop, but also from Hansen.]

JW: Taylor doesn't want any of it. He doesn't like the Body Shop and he
doesn't like Hansen.

CD: (Sarcastically) A well oiled wrestling team then, eh?

Mark Edwards: And their tag team partner, also representing the Cult of
Personality....

[The lights go down, and a voice speaks over the PA:

"And during the few moments we have left, I want to talk, right down to
Earth, in a language everyone here can easily understand."

From here, guitar chords pour from over the PA, as the screen flashes
for a split second in a blink of white, before one words appears on a
background of black:

DIAMONDBACK

The colors inverse, back and forth, before the next word comes up:

CHRIS

The same happens, black/white, white/black, until the last name pops up
on the screen:

MYERS

'Cult of Personality' by Living Color kicks in in full force, Vernon
Reid's vocals screamin, as Myers appears at the top on the aisleway,
hands on his hips, looking over the crowd. Dallas appears with him, at
his side, smiling.]

Mark Edwards: ...From Phoenix Arizona, weighing in at two-hundred and
sixty-five pounds... "DIAMONBACK" CHRIIIIIIIISSSSSSS MYEEEERRRRRSSSSS!!

[The duo make their way to the ring, slapping hands with many of the
fans, and reaching back to shake the hands of those not on the aisleway.
When they reach the ring, Myers helps Dallas onto the apron, and the
pair step into the ring as Myers points towards Douglas and runs his
thumb across his throat. Myers goes to the center, where the lights
drop as he folds his arms across his chest and gives the 'I love you'
sign with both hands as a diamond is shone around him by lasers.]

CD: (Mocking a sniff and a tear) I :sniff: think I'm gonna cry. :sob:

JW: Will you sto...

CD: (Interrupting) Can it, Worthington! Just get the bi<bleeep>h off of
the apron, and let's go.

JW: I can see this is going to be one of *those* commentary segments.

[Myers high-fives Taylor, as Taylor and Hansen leave the ring and stand
on the apron. On the opposite corner of the ring, DTP and Ronnie D step
out to the ring apron.]

MM: It looks like Myers and Lebec are going to start things off, and
quite smart there on the part of Myers, since Hansen and Taylor are
already hurt from earlier this evening.

CD: That's a criminal offense!

MM: What, to initiate an attack or an Outlaw Rules Match?

CD: NO! To use the words smart and Myers in the same sentance without a
negative!

[Myers points towards Ronnie D and the fans go wild.]

JW: Chris Myers wants The Playboy in there, but it looks like Lebec is
intent on starting things off for the Body Shop team and they lock
up with a collar and elbow tie-up. Lebec sneaks behind for a
hammerlock, but Myers is fast to get to the ropes and the ref forces
the break. Here's another lock-up, and Myers with a hiptoss takes
Lebec down to the canvas. Lebec is up, and Myers executes an
armbar, taking him down again. Myers follows up with an armbar, and
he's got Lebec on the canvas and in trouble.

CD: Bah! The Showstopper's just giving him a false sense of security.

MM: Lebec is over to the ropes, and with a handful of Myers' hair, pulls
him back into the neutral corner. The ref asks for a clean break,
and Myers put his hands in the air... LEBEC WITH A SHOULDERBLOCK TO
THE STOMACH OF MYERS!

CD: Don't blame Myers for that. He suffers from severe gullibility!

JW: Lebec now, pulls Myers out of the corner and shoves him to the
canvas. Lebec is over to his corner as he makes the tag to Trey
Porter.

CD: DTP is in! Myers had better have paid up his life insurance!

JW: Porter with a chop to the chest of Myers, and... RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP!

CD: YEAH! Myers is dead!

JW: I doubt that, as DTP seems to be showboating now.

[DTP does the fargo strut across the ring as Myers lays on the canvas.
He then yells "OOH, LA, LA!" before dropping an elbow onto Myers and
covering him.]

MM: Referee's in position, and... Myers kicks out on one.

JW: I'm not surprised. DTP took way too much time there going for that
cover after flawlessly executing that Russian legsweep.

CD: DTP knows what he's doing, Worthington. He deserves to take a
little time to play to the crowd. I always do, and look at me!

JW: DTP, if you're listening... DON'T DO IT!!

CD: HEY!

MM: Porter makes the tag to Simon Lebec, and Lebec is in with some
stomps to the downed Chris Myers.

CD: Pin him! Wouldn't it be *great* if Myers was beaten inside of five
minutes without even having made one tag!

JW: The stamina and determination of the Diamondback wouldn't allow that
to happen, Chris.

CD: Hey, it happened against me. Four times!

MM: Lebec now, picks Myers up, and sets him up for a piledriver...
COUNTERED BY MYERS WITH A BACKDROP... BUT COUNTERED AGAIN BY LEBEC
WITH A SUNSET FLIP! Myers sits down though, and gets the cover...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Lebec kicks out.

JW: Nice work on the part of Myers, but Lebec is one who always knows
where he is in the ring. Both men are back to their feet, and Myers
rushes at Lebec, taking him off his feet with a football tackle with
authority. Lebec seems to have angered Myers as Myers is laying
into him with rights and lefts. The ref warns Myers, and Dallas
looks annoyed.

CD: HA! The b<bleep>ch didn't like that!

MM: Well, Dallas isn't one to promote bending of the rules.

CD: No, I was talking about Myers!

JW: The Diamondback moves to his corner and makes the tag to his Cult of
Personality stable mate Bobby Taylor. Taylor with a hard right
hand, and that's enough to send Lebec stumbling into the ropes.
Taylor moves in to follow up, but Lebec is quick with a thumb to the
eye, and a kneelift. Lebec pulls Taylor over to his corner and tags
in Porter once again. The Playboy yet to tag in in this match, but
it's Porter and Lebec both in there with a double hiptoss on the
Outlaw.

MM: The ref is trying to get Lebec out of there, and Lebec leaves, but
not before stomping Taylor once more for good measure.

CD: The Cult of Personality team are ruined! They've done nothing so
far this match. It's been all Body Shop.

JW: Well, while I agree with you, it's also worth bearing in mind that
the Cult have already been involved in matches so far this evening.

CD: And that's an excuse for them to be worn down?

JW: Umm... I'd say so, yes.

CD: (Sulking) Oh.

MM: Porter hooks both of the arms of Taylor and... DOUBLE ARM SUPLEX!

JW: Nicely done as Taylor is put to the canvas. Porter pulls him up
slightly as he locks on an abdominal stretch. The ref checks to see
if it's legal, and it is. He asks Taylor if he wants to call it a
night, and no, Taylor isn't giving up.

[As the ref is checking on Taylor, DTP reaches towards his own corner
and both Ronnie D and Simon Lebec pull on DTP's arm to give him some
extra leverage while the pain factor for Taylor increases drastically.]

CD: Now *that's* smart wrestling by the Body Shop. They work well as a
team. Those other three guys just slapped together out of nowhere
are barely even good enough to lace Porter's boots.

[Out of the corner of his eye, the ref sees what's going on, but by the
time he gets up to check for sure, Ronnie and Lebec have let go of DTP's
arm and the abdominal stretch is legal once again.]

JW: Those three are unbelievable. The lengths they will go to to cheat.

CD: Yeah, it's refreshing, isn't it?!

[DTP reaches back, but this time grabs the top rope for leverage to put
Taylor in more pain. Taylor shakes his head, saying "NO" to the ref, as
DTP piles on the pressure. The ref looks up at DTP, but DTP lets go of
the ropes immediately. The ref sees the ropes shaking and asks Lebec
and Ronnie what happened. Ronnie shakes the ropes himself, claiming he
did it.]

JW: Why those...

CD: HA! They're out-smarting the Cult. Mind you, I know chimps that
can out-smart the Cult!

[DTP reaches back once again and grabs the ropes, but this time he was
looking into the crowd while doing it, and the ref gets up in time and
sees what's going on. DTP refuses to let go of the ropes, so the ref
kicks his arm while Taylor hiptosses DTP to get out of the move.]

CD: THE REF IS AGAINST THE BODY SHOP!! That isn't right, Worthington!
Myers must have paid off the ref!

JW: That certainly was not the case, as the ref was just enforcing his
authority.

CD: He kicked Porter. Hey, DTP, if you need a good lawyer, I can get
you one, and we'll get that ref out of this business forever!

JW: I'm sure you can, Chris.

MM: Taylor now runs towards DTP as he gets up and floors him with a huge
lariat. Taylor dives towards his corner... AND MAKES A TAG TO
CURTIS HANSEN!!

JW: Hansen is in as Porter is back to his feet. Hansen with a snap
suplex and a cover...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

KICKOUT BY PORTER!

MM: That's the closest we've come to a three count so far in this one.

CD: Porter knew where he was, Masterson. He was just taking his time on
purpose.

JW: Hansen grabs the arm of DTP and whips him into the turnbuckle.
Hansen follows in with a clothesline... BUT DTP MOVES! Hansen went
in hard, and he's down to the canvas. DTP struts over to his corner
and will we see Ronnie D tagged in? Nope, it's Simon Lebec once
again.

MM: You've got to be wondering why the Playboy hasn't tagged in yet.
Usually he's one to want to take the spotlight and win the match.

CD: Exactly, Masterson! I had you down as a fool, but not a *totally*
moronic fool. Ronnie is conserving himself. Lebec and DTP are
dishing out the punishment, and then when Myers is in there, the
Playboy will tag in and finish him off!

JW: That would seem logical, I guess, as Simon Lebec executes a
text-book suplex on Curtis Hansen. Lebec with a legdrop and a
cover...

.

.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

And Hansen kicks out.

[Lebec turns to the ref and holds up three fingers while yelling. The
ref holds up two, and Lebec moves over to him.]

MM: Big mistake on the part of Lebec. He had Hansen on the mat and
hurting, but now he's going to argue with the referee. Hansen is up
now, and Lebec has his back to him. Lebec turns around... DDT BY
HANSEN!!

CD: Lucky shot.

MM: Hansen with a kneelock submission hold now, and Lebec is in pain.

CD: Yeah, he can probably hear your commentary!

JW: Hansen puts the pressure on the knee of Lebec, as the ref drops to
ask the Showstopper if he wants to stop the show. Ronnie D is in
the ring though, and kicks the head of Hansen, forcing him to break
the hold. Myers runs in there too, but the ref cuts him off.

[As the ref tries to get Chris Myers out of the ring, DTP, Ronnie D and
Simon Lebec triple-team Hansen with boots to the head, stomps and
kicks.]

CD: I *LOVE* this!!

[The ref eventually gets Myers out of the ring, but by this time, DTP
and Ronnie have left the ring after the damage has been done.]

JW: I bet they're so damn proud of themselves.

CD: Hey, I would be!

JW: Lebec drops down to the canvas and covers Hansen...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

NO! NOT LIKE THIS...

.

.

HANSEN GETS A SHOULDER UP!

MM: That was close. *THAT* was close.

JW: Hansen is still hurt from going through the table with the Outlaw's
Curse earlier this evening, but he's battling on in this one. Lebec
holds onto Hansen's head, while making the tag to DTP.

[DTP climbs up to the top rope, while Lebec keeps hold of Hansen. The
ref starts the five count, and DTP leaps off, landing a double
axe-handle over the back of Hansen.]

CD: They're working as a team, Worthington. That's why they're pounding
on the Cult of Personality team right now. That and the fact that
they're just better!

JW: I imagine there's a long way to go in this one yet, as DTP goes to
the middle turnbuckle and lands a front elbow drop on Hansen. And
may I just remind you all that Curtis Hansen is *not* a Cult of
Personality member. In fact, he and Taylor don't like each other
one bit, but they're putting their differences to the side right now
to unite for a common cause.

CD: Yeah, to get beaten!

[DTP yells "OOH, LA, LA!" once again, and twists Hansens' legs around
into a figure-four leglock.]

JW: This will do some serious damage, but Hansen is pretty close to the
ropes. If he can either get to them or turn over and reverse the
pressure on this hold, then he'll be fine.

CD: Just give it up, Hansen! When you team with Myers, you *know*
you're doomed!

[Hansen reaches for the ropes, but isn't able to get there. He tries to
power his way towards them, but DTP's grip is too much.]

JW: Things aren't going in the Cult's favour right now, but we've seen
in each and every match this evening that the tide can turn in an
instant, and it looks to be doing that right here...

[Hansen starts to turn DTP over in the figure-four. Hansen, with al his
strength gives one last mightly turn, and they end up on their stomachs
with Hansen in control of the move.]

MM: HE DID IT! Hansen reversed it, and now it's DTP in pain.

JW: DTP needs to let go of the hold, or he'll be in pain for quite a
while... and he does. Hansen is out of the hold, and is up to his
feet as DTP gets up and locks in a sleeperhold.

CD: HA! No sooner had Hansen got out of the figure-four than he got put
right in the sleeper!

JW: HANSEN WITH A JAWBREAKER TO COUNTER!

CD: D'oh!

JW: What's that, Homer?

CD: Quiet, Worthington!

MM: Hansen moves towards his corner, while DTP is already at his corner
and tags in Lebec. Lebec moves towards Hansen to try to cut him
off, but Hansen makes a dive to his corner...

.

.

.

AND TAGS IN CHRIS MYERS!!

[HUGE crowd pop.]

JW: The fresh "Diamondback" Chris Myers is in there and *nails* Simon
Lebec with a series of shots to the upper body. Myers sends him for
the ride and catches him with a backbody drop on the way back. DTP
is in, and Myers gives him the same treatment with a backbody drop
and now Hansen and Taylor are in there too!

MM: The ref needs to restore some order in this one, and he's trying to
by getting Hansen and Taylor out of there. Ronnie D comes in
though, and it's three men pounding away on Chris Myers. This isn't
fair. This isn't right. TURN AROUND, REF!

CD: HA! Seems fair to me, Masterson! Myers is taking a beating!

[The ref turns around and warns DTP and Ronnie, who promptly leave the
ring, patting each other on the back. Lebec takes control of the match
with a backbreaker on Chris Myers.]

CD: (Sarcastically) OW! My back!

JW: Lebec now, lifts Myers onto the top rope, and could be going for a
superplex. Myers though, headbutts Lebec back down to the canvas,
and as Lebec gets to his feet... FLYING BODY BLOCK!! THE REF IS
RIGHT THERE TO COUNT AS MYERS HOOKS THE LEG...

.

.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR...

CD: NO! NO! NO! Lebec kicked out, Worthington. Lebec kicked out.

JW: He did indeed, but was it ever a close call as Chris Myers, cheered
on by this capacity crowd sends Lebec for the ride. Lebec comes
back and Myers drops him with a back elbow. Myer now, grabs a leg
of Lebec, and locks him in a single leg boston crab.

MM: Myers has that half boston locked on well, but Lebec is making it to
the ropes fast. Lebec is there and the ref is trying to force the
break, but Myers doesn't want to let go of the hold.

CD: Bloody cheat!

[Dallas screams at Myers to let go, but Myers seems to be enjoying the
fan's response and the screams of pain by Lebec. After a few seconds,
Myers releases the hold with the fans still chanting "MY-ERS...MY-ERS!"]

JW: England *loves* Chris Myers as he sends Lebec into the ropes once
again. Myers with a standing dropkick floors the Showstopper as he
goes for a cover...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR... LEBEC KICKS OUT!

CD: FAST COUNT! FAST COUNT!

JW: He kicked out, Chris.

CD: Oh? The count was fine then.

JW: Myers now, with a spinning elbowdrop, wows the crowd and at the same
time does more damage to Simon Lebec. Lebec is in trouble now, as
Myers gets to his feet and pumps the crowd.

[Dallas seems furious as Myers turns to the crowd who are literally
screaming his name.]

CD: HA! I bet that's the first time the kid's ever heard anyone scream
his name! Mind you, I heard things about him, a five year old girl
and a lollipop. I hear it was the best weeke...

JW: (Interrupting) I don't think we need a lawsuit here.

MM: Myers now, turns his attention back to the match as he elevates
Lebec high into the air with a vertical suplex. The awesome power
of Chris Myers is often underestimated.

CD: Yeah, sometimes he can even lift his huge ego!

JW: *You're* talking about other people's alleged egos?!

MM: Myers now, goes to the top rope and looks to be taking a risk.
Guilotine legdrop from the top right across the chest and throat
area of Simon Lebec. Myers with the cover...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THR... LEBEC KICKS OUT AGAIN!

JW: Myers should have hooked the leg there, and Dallas on the outside is
letting him know that.

CD: I hooked Dallas once... best weeke...

JW: (Interrupting) You know, I hope Myers comes over here and lays you
out.

CD: I layed out Dallas once. Best wee...

JW: (Interrupting) STOP THAT!!

MM: Myers now, with a cross armbreaker is really in control of this
match. DTP and the Playboy look on, reaching out for the tag to get
Lebec out of there, but Myers is unforgiving in his attack.

[Chris Myers locks on a front-facelock and hooks one of Lebec's legs
while reaching for the other one.]

JW: HE'S GOING FOR THE MYERSPLEX!!

CD: What are you on?!? That's the Douglas-plex! I made that move, not
him!

[Myers starts to lift Lebec, but Lebec, quick to react, low-blows him,
with the crowd giving a "OOOOOHHHH" reaction.]

CD: WHATTA MOVE! Executed flawlessly, with perfect timing and awesome
style!

JW: HUH?!?

MM: Lebec now, gets to his feet as he kicks away at the leg of Chris
Myers. Lebec pulls Myers up into position...

.

.

.

PILEDRIVER!!

CD: YES! YES! YES! Myers is finished!

JW: Lebec now, pulls Myers to his feet, and kicks him in the midsection,
but allows Myers to catch his boot, and...

.

.

.

LEBEC WITH AN ENZIGUIRI *RIGHT* TO THE BACK OF MYERS' HEAD!!

MM: That was Lebec's infamous Devil's Pitchfork which he used commonly
when he went under the guise of "The Saviour".

CD: He's put it to good use now though, but I question the fact that
there's anything inside of Myers' head worth actually damaging with
a move like that!

JW: Lebec has Myers out cold, or so it seems. He could cover him right
here, but Ronnie on the ring apron is reaching out and yelling
towards Lebec.

CD: The Playboy wants to be the one to finish off Myers and I don't
blame him, Worthington!

[Lebec points towards Ronnie D, and as Ronnie reaches out his hand,
Lebec tags him in as the crowd start to boo immensely.]

JW: One can only wonder what Ronnie D has in store for Chris Myers. He
did the smart thing and allowed Myers to be worn down before getting
himself involved in this match, and boy has it ever paid off.

[Ronnie starts to kick Myers while he's down before pulling him up and
sending him into the ropes. On the rebound, Ronnie executes a hotshot,
stunning Chris Myers over the top rope.]

MM: "Playboy" Ronnie D has things going his way now, as he pulls Myers
up in a front-facelock.

CD: HA! I told you this was the end of Myers! I guarantee that after
this match he won't be able to get out of his hospital bed, let
alone make it to the ring to attempt to wrestle ever again!

JW: RONNIE D WITH THE DDT!!

CD: MYERS IS DEAD!! This time he's finished. Ronnie D has finished him
off. COVER HIM!!

JW: The Playboy does indeed go for the cover. The ref drops down,
and...

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

THR... RONNIE PULLS MYERS' SHOULDER UP?!?!?

CD: The Playboy wants to punish him some more, Worthington! I *LOVE*
it!!

JW: Ronnie D lifts a barely conscious Chris Myers to his feet. Dallas
is in tears on the outside, but is still trying to pump the crowd
into a Myers chant. I can't see how Myers can carry on in this one,

and to be quite frank he's virtually out on his feet.

MM: The Playboy measures Chris Myers up, and... STANDING DROPKICK!!
Myers falls to the canvas once again as the Playboy just taunts
Myers, Dallas and the crowd.

CD: YEAH! Tell them who's the man, Ronnie!

JW: Ronnie D now, sends Myers into the ropes, and... SLEEPERHOLD
APPLIED!! For the second time in this match, a punishing sleeper
has been applied, this time to Chris Myers by the infamous Ronnie D.

[Myers' team-mates, Dallas and the fans look on and start stomping and
screaming "MY-ERS...MY-ERS!"]

CD: I bet those morons think they're giving him the power to carry on.

JW: Well, it seems to be working as Chris Myers is moving slowly but
surely towards his corner. He could make a tag to a fresh man here,
and that could change the whole outlook on things in this match.

[As Myers almost makes it to his corner, DTP and Simon Lebec come into
the ring, distracting the ref's attention and causing him to walk over
to them. Meanwhile, Myers has powered his way to his own corner and has
tagged in Curtis Hansen getting a huge crowd pop.]

MM: Hansen is in! Hansen is in there, and... WAIT!

[The ref turns around to see Curtis Hansen in the ring and shakes his
head while slapping his hands together insinuating that he hadn't seen a
clean tag.]

JW: Hansen is arguing with the ref and for good reason. The ref says
there was no tag, when in fact there was. Senior referee Mick
McManus tells Hansen to get out of the ring and for Myers to
continue. This isn't fair.

CD: Life's not fair, Worthington. But what can you do, eh? (Chris
laughs)

[Fans at ringside start slapping their hands together, trying to
persuade the ref that it was a clean tag, but the ref having none of it
tells Myers to get back into the match.]

MM: Myers is collapsed in a heap by the ropes. He made it to his
corner. He made the tag. This isn't right.

CD: HA! Looks fine to me, Masterson! Now finish him off, Ronnie!

[Ronnie D pulls Myers to his feet and delivers a single-arm DDT. Ronnie
gets back to his feet, kicking Myers and stands on the middle
turnbuckle, facing the crowd and raising his hands into the air.]

JW: The Playboy is over-confident now. This could well work against
him.

CD: What the hell are *you* talking about, Worthington?! Myers isn't
moving, and you're saying the Playboy is in trouble?!

JW: Ronnie D is certainly an arrogant piece of work, and I've no idea
what he's about to do as he gets down off of the turnbuckles and
moves towards Myers. Obviously that Ronnie-plex of his is pretty
redundant, since Myers weighs a little too much for the Playboy to
be able to pull it off.

CD: Yeah, I've always though Chris "Big Mac" Myers was a little on the
porky side too.

JW: That's muscle, Chris. Pure muscle on the body of Chris Myers, but
admittedly he is in trouble. I'm not going to lie to you, folks,
Myers is resilient, but there's only so much a man can take as
Ronnie points to the top turnbuckle.

MM: I think we could be seeing the Heartbreaker kneedrop from the top
rope, but he's pulling Myers to his feet and dragging him over to
the turnbuckle.

JW: I think... I think Ronnie D is going to try for the Ronnie-plex on
Chris Myers!!

CD: YEAH!! PLANT HIS HEAD INTO THE CANVAS, RONNIE!!

[Ronnie sits Chris Myers up on the top turnbuckle as if for a superplex.
Ronnie then stands on the second rope and goes to underhook both of
Chris Myers' arms.]

JW: Folks, *nobody* gets up from the Ronnie-plex. If he has the
strength to execute this on a man of Myers' size of two-hundred and
sixty-five pounds, it *will* be over and Ronnie D will have yet
another accomplishment to brag about.

MM: Well, I've never seen the Playboy pull this move off on anyone over
the two-hundred and fifty pound mark, so it'll be interesting to see
if he can.

[Playboy goes to underhook both of Myers' arms, but astonishingly, Myers
blocks it and grabs onto Ronnie D's head. Myers jumps, spinning around
in mid-air, and driving Ronnie's head into the canvas sideways, in a
side-ways DDT from the top rope. Ronnie hits the canvas, though not
full on.]

JW: OH...MY...GOD!! RATTLER FROM THE TOP ROPE!!! RATTLER FROM THE
TOP!!

MM: I don't think Myers hit all of that move, as he came down pretty
hard on his own shoulder, but nonetheless, Ronnie D is on the canvas
and so is Myers. They are both on their backs in the middle of the
ring, and neither of them are moving.

JW: This could be bad news if you were hoping to see a decisive finish
to this match. I don't think either of them are going to get up
from this as referee Mick McManus starts his count...

[The crowd chant along with the ref...

ONE

.

TWO

.

THREE

.

FOUR

.

The chant from the crowd turns into a "MY-ERS...MY-ERS" chant...

.

FIVE

.

SIX

.

"Playboy" Ronnie D starts to move...

.

SEVEN

.

Chris Myers also starts to move towards his own corner.

.

EIGHT

.

Ronnie is up to his knees, as the referee stops the count.]

MM: McManus there, perhaps should have continued the count, and called
this match a draw, but I think he knows just how important it is to
both the Cult of Personality and the Body Shop as well as all the
fans in attendance.

JW: Myers is moving towards his corner to tag out, and Ronnie is moving
towards Myers in a desperate attempt to cut him off. Myers dives...

.

.

.

.

AND TAGS IN "THE OUTLAW" BOBBY TAYLOR!!!

CD: NOOOOOOOOOO!!

MM: Taylor is in with a clothesline on Ronnie D!! Simon Lebec climbs
into the ring too, and is met with a Bobby Taylor clothesline too,
sending him to the outside of the ring!! Curtis Hansen now climbs
into the ring also, as does "Dreamlover" Trey Porter!! Hansen and
Taylor link arms... AND CLOTHESLINE PORTER OUT OF THERE!!

JW: We have DTP and Lebec on the floor, while Hansen and Taylor set
Ronnie up...

.

.

.

.

.

DOUBLE CATTLEBUSTER DDT!!! OH...MY...GOD!! Taylor and Hansen have
cleaned house, and they just planted Ronnie D into the canvas.
Chris Myers... Myers is up on the apron screaming at Bobby Taylor to
tag him back in... Taylor is reluctant and Dallas screams at Taylor
not to tag in Myers. Perhaps wisely so as Myers has been hurt badly
in this match. But the crowd want it. The crowd are screaming "TAG
IN MYERS!" and Taylor looks towards Myers...

.

.

.

.

.

AND TAGS HIM IN!!!

[The crowd let out the biggest pop of the night as Myers climbs through
the ropes while Taylor and Hansen jump down out of the ring to prevent
DTP and Lebec from getting back in. As the two-on-two brawl on the
floor continues, Myers picks Ronnie D up off the canvas.]
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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MM: The tables have turned. My God have the tables ever turned. This
is the biggest chance for Myers to finish this match. He has Ronnie
D right where he wants him. Myers seems to be taking his time
thinking what to do, and this could be one heckuva mistake by the
young "Diamondback" Chris Myers.

[A mistake it possibly proves to be as Ronnie D manages to get to his
feet and comes running an Chris Myers with a clothesline.]

CD: HA! GO RONNIE!!

JW: Ronnie with the clothesline...

.

.

.

.

NO!!! MYERS DUCKS UNDER IT!! MYERS GRABS ONTO THE ARM OF RONNIE
D.... AND...

.

.

.

HOOKS HIS HEAD IN A HEADLOCK, TURNING SIDEWAYS SLIGHTLY...

.

.

.

YOU KNOW WHAT'S COMING...

.

.

.

*R*A*T*T*L*E*R*!!! MYERS HITS THE RATTLER!!

CD: NOOOOOOO!! KICK OUT RONNIE!! KICK OUT!!

JW: Myers drops down to cover, hooking the leg...

.

.

.

.

ONE

.

.

.

.

.

TWO

.

.

.

.

.

THREE!!!!!!!!!!

[An absolutely humongous pop echos around the stadium as 'Cult of
Personality' by Living Color starts to play.]

Mark Edwards: LAAAAAAAAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN... IT TAKES ME GREAT
PLEASURE TO ANNOUNCE YOUR WINNERS........ THE CULT OF PERSONALITY!!!

[The pop continues as Porter and Lebec climb into the ring, blindsiding
Chris Myers and nailing him with a double clothesline. The music of
Chris Myers stops playing as the fans start to boo while Porter and
Lebec kick a downed Chris Myers.]

CD: YES!!

JW: NO... This shouldn't happen. The guy just won the match for his
team and... No... this... this is disgusting. Get some security.
GET SOME SECURITY!!

[As Porter and Lebec continue to beat on Myers, the crowd stand looking
towards the aisle as running towards the ring complete with a steel
chair in hand is...

.

.

.

.

.

STEVE SPECTOR!!!]

MM: GOD LORD!! SPECTOR IS RUNNING TOWARDS THE RING!! He and Ronnie D
really aren't too fond of one another...

[Spector slides into the ring, complete with steel chair and swings it
wildly as Lebec and Porter make a hasty exit and pull Ronnie D to the
outside.]

JW: OH MY!! Spector evens the score, and Myers is getting to his feet,
bloody faced, drenched in sweat and in one heckuva lot of pain by
the looks of things. Spector is still holding that chair. This
doesn't look good for Myers...

CD: HA! It looks good to me, Worthington! LEVEL HIM!

JW: Spector... Steve Spector winds back with that chair...

.

.

.

.

AND DROPS IT BEFORE RAISING MYERS' HAND INTO THE AIR!!

[Bobby Taylor and Curtis Hansen climb back into the ring, congratulating
Myers as "Cult of Personality" kicks back in over the loudspeakers.]

CD: I feel sick, Worthington!! I'm physically going to throw up if this
carries on much longer!!

[A huge pop from the crowd echos around the stadium as the four make
their way towards the locker room area.]

JW: Folks, it's almost time for that Battle Royal you've all been
waiting for. After numerous tough, gruelling matches, we have found
the participants, and there will be fourteen men going on tonight to
this, the Night of Glory Battle Royal to determine.

CD: Worthington, you can cut the atmosphere with a knife! This is what
it's all about.
______________________________________________________________
| _ __ ______ |
| / | / /___ / ____/ MAIN EVENT PART 2 |
| / |/ / __ \/ /___ |
| / /| / /_/ / /_/ / NIGHT OF GLORY BATTLE ROYAL |
| /_/ |_/\____/\____/ |
| "AN EVENING OF STARS" Writer: ME! |
|______________________________________________________________|

[The camera pans over to the video wall, as "One Vision" by Queen kicks
in faintly in the background. The shot is of the Night of Glory Trophy
sitting on the commentator's table. A voice is heard over the lyrics
of Freddy Mercury.]

VO: Survival. From the very moment the opening bell rang to mark the
beginning of Night of Glory, each man involved in this event made it
known that it would be he who would survive.

But now it's come down to fourteen men...

Fourteen men who want one thing...

The Night of Glory Trophy.

Only one will be able to hold it high above his head and say "This
is Mine". Only one will get the glory, the satisfaction and the
praise that comes with earning and winning this prestigious
accolade.

Fourteen men go in, but there can be...

ONLY ONE...

[The camera pans back to the stadium, where fans are wildly standing on
their seats, screaming at the top of their lungs.]

JW: Wrestling fans around the world, the wait has been long enough. We
are down to the last fourteen wrestlers in this event, and it's
anyone's guess as to who will survive.

MM: Well, just a quick run-down of the participants before they're
introduced. We have Slater Akuma, Maia, Shakanuzi, Harris, Extreme,
Magus, de Sade, Curtis, LOCO, Brass Knuckles, Creed, Matthews and
Keening set to square off in battle royal conditions with over the
top rope eliminations only.

JW: All of those Superstars have already wrestled in gruelling matches
tonight. I'd say in a match like this, ordinarily people like Creed
and Brass Knuckles would have some sort of advantage, since this is
their kind of match. However, Creed has only just arrived back at
the stadium after a bloody twenty minute plus brawl with
"Heartbreaker" Steve Wallace, and Brass Knuckles, having recently
has stitches put into his forehead after taking that brutal brass
knuckle shot to the head by Paul Kiljoy, had just Survived out of
eight men in his match.

MM: I think it's fairly safe to say that nobody has an advantage in this
one.

CD: Masterson, that's where you're wrong. So wrong in fact that you
couldn't actually be more wrong if you tried. The people who'll
fare well in this are the people who have survived in life. People
who have been forced to survive all their lives. And by that I
don't mean bar flys like Creed, I mean people like Ethan de Sade.

JW: Well, picking a winner would be a tough task at this stage, and
folks, we're not going to let you wait any longer to find out who
that might be. Let's go to ring announcer Mark Edwards for the
introductions.

[Camera pans over to the ring.]

Mark Edwards: LAAAAAAAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! The wait is over, and it's
time to find out who really is the best of the best in THE NIGHT OF
GLORY BATTLE ROYAL!!

[Huge crowd pop in anticipation of the battle royal.]

Mark Edwards: Fourteen men have qualified for this elimination style
match, in which the only way to be eliminated is to be throw over the
top rope and to hit the floor.

JW: Folks, that's no pinfalls, no submissions, no countouts, no...

CD: (Interrupting him) No interrupting the ring announcer, Worthington!

Mark Edwards: This is what it's all about, Ladies and Gentlemen, and the
winner of this battle royal will receive the coveted first ever Night of
Glory Trophy. Now, may I introduce the participants...

["Black" by Sevendust kicks in over the loudspeakers. The fans cheer
loudly.]

Mark Edwards: Making his way towards the ring, from Boston,
Massachusetts, weighing in at two-hundred and forty pounds...
WWWWILDTHING KKKKKEVIN SLAAAAAAAAAATER!!

[Kevin Slater comes out and makes his way towards the ring, seemingly
focussed on the task in hand, but still making time to slap hands with
the fans and pump them up even more than they already are.]

CD: They're going wild for the Wildthing, Worthington!

JW: Wow! Can you believe the response these people are giving Kevin
Slater, the EMWC Champion. He defeated Icehawk earlier tonight, and
now he's one of fourteen men set to compete for the Trophy.

[Slater steps into the ring, with the fans still going crazy as his
music dies out and an original piece of music, with taiko drumming,
strings with some guitar, begins to play over the PA.]

Mark Edwards: Coming down the aisle, from Tokyo, Japan, weighing in at
one-hundred and ninety-five pounds... KASHAN AKUUUUUUUUMA!!

[On the large screen, an image of a Japanese flag appears. It quickly
intercuts into a montage of Kashan Akuma's greatest moments. A medium
built man, with short spiky dark black hair with a brown tint in
streaks, and tatoos on his arms, appears at the top of the ramp. He
raises his I-Crown Asian title belt high in the sky. He wears long
black tights, with a blue flame with a silver outline on each leg, along
with "dare devil" in Japanese. He also wears knee and shin pads with
black boots. Kashan pauses at the top of the ramp and he does some
crotch chops as the pyrotechnics explode. Fireworks go off along the
ramp as they walks by, forming a canopy. He stands on the ring apron
holding the belt. He then does a flip into the ring. Kashan then goes
on to the middle rope and does a few crotch chops there. He backflips
off the the rope onto his feet as the crowd boos loudly. He then
proceeds to the centre of the ring where he executes even more crotch
chops as fireworks ignite from each cornerpost in every direction.]

JW: What an entrance by the young Japanese superstar, Kashan Akuma.

MM: Akuma, of course, qualified by being one of the three men on the
winning team in the Trios match, the other two about to make their
entrances in just a moment.

Mark Edwards: And, making his way towards the ring...

["Roots, Bloody Roots" by Sepultura plays as the crowd gives a defeaning
negative reaction.]

Mark Edwards: ...from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, weighing in at two-hundred
and thirty-one pounds... "KILLER" CARLOS MAIA!!

[Maia starts to walk down the aisle clad in a black uniform with red
flames on it, and he sports a devilish mask covering his whole face bar
his chin and mouth. He can be heard yelling "SHUT UP OR I'LL RIP YOUR
LUNGS OUT!" to the fans as they continue to boo him.]

JW: The daredevil, "Killer" Carlos Maia there, not so well received by
the fans.

CD: And you'd be cheering on a guy who threatened to rip vital organs
out of your body?

[Maia gets to the ring, and climbs into it. The ref ensures that all of
them men in the ring keep from fighting at the moment.]

JW: Folks, Maia has promised us all a Night of Chaos in the last Speak
Easy. One can only wonder just what he means by that.

Mark Edwards: Making his way towards the ring, from Tokyo, Japan,
weighing in at two-hundred and thirty pounds... JINSEI SHAKANUZI!!

["Them" by King Daimond blasts trhough the arena as Jinsei Shakanuzi
begins to walk down the aisle. The fans give out a loud response, some
cheering and some booing. Jinsei walks down the aisle, slapping hands
with some of the fans and finally enters the ring, executing a standing
reverse salto, getting a huge crowd pop. He does some "jinga", the
dance of Capoeira and executes some kicks to warm-up.]

MM: I must say, Shakankuzi certainly seems focussed, and seems to have
won the fans' hearts despite the fact that he teamed up with two of
the more hated International wrestlers.

CD: Who's that? Chris Myers and Creed?

JW: Will you stop!

"Them" fades out, and in fades "One Man Army" by The Prodigy and Tom
Morello.]

Mark Edwards: From New York, New York, weighing in at two-hundred and
seventy pounds...

[The lights dim and multicolored lights illuminate the curtain leading
to the back of the arena and the aisle leading to the ring. The crowd
pops as the colors start to swirl out of control. Matt Harris emerges
from the back, and the crowd gets louder. He stands at the top of the
aisle, fist in the air, soaking in the cheers. He wears shades, a black
windbreaker with red 1s on his sleeves and on the back, black canvas
pants with the word HARRIS in black italics in a red stripe down his
left leg, black wresling shoes with red laces, and black wristguards.]

Mark Edwards: ..."THE ONE" MATT HARRISSSSSS!!

[Matt begins to walk down the aisle, slapping hands with the fans, and
even throwing himself headlong into the fans a few times, where they
maul him for a few seconds before he extracts himself. He makes his way
into the ring, stepping through the ropes, and throws off his jacket and
shades as the lights come up.]

JW: Well, Harris there defeated Rob Magnum earlier tonight and gets his
chance at the Night of Glory Trophy. He is of course without
manager Sydney Smythe-Harris in this battle royal, since all
managers have been banned from ringside during this match.

MM: Good call from the officials on that one. Whomever wins this one
will have to do so fair and square.

CD: (Muttering) Stupid bunch of sportsmanship crap.

JW: What was that?

CD: I said I hope Harris doesn't snap.

JW: Well, though he might seem a little different at times, he's
certainly not a psychopath.

CD: Can we have a second opinion on that?

[The lights go out once again as "Relax" by Frankie Goes to Hollywood
blares from the loud speaker.]

Mark Edwards: And from Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at two-hundred and
forty pounds... "MR. EXCITEMENT"... ALEX EXTREEEEEEEEME!!

[Spotlights begin flying around the arena in a circle as they come
together focusing on the video wall above the entranceway...it explodes
splitting open as "Mr. Excitement" Alex Extreme walks through the
fallout from the firework effects as more pryo goes off and the fans are
on their feet. Extreme calmly struts toward the ringside area flirting
with the ringside ladies before he enters the ring.]

JW: Extreme certainly does live up to his nickname of Mr. Excitement.

CD: Yeah, I hear he got pretty damn excited in those porno flicks he
starred in!

["Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen kicks in on the PA system, replacing
"Relax".]

Mark Edwards: He hails from Des Moines, Iowa; standing 6'2" and weighing
in at 247 pounds. A former EWA Quadruple Crown Winner, one of the
legends of the sport ... here is ...
MAGUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

CD: HA! Edwards has been taking bribes again!

[The crowd explodes as Magus comes charging down the aisle decked out in
nothing but a simple blue singlet, a la Mr. Perfect, with "Magus"
written down both legs. He slaps hands with all the fans as a small
number of fireworks explode and shoot into the air. Magus slides into
the ring and holds his hands in the air in the center of the ring to yet
another surge of cheers.]

JW: Well, Magus there teamed with Alex Extreme to defeat the team of
Sean Watts and Gabriel Whitecross earlier this evening. Now though,
they'll be against one another.

CD: Why? I'd say they could quite easily team up and double team
everyone else.

JW: Then what happens if they're the last two in there?

CD: It'll be ten paces, turn and stab in the back!

JW: Oh brother!

[The arena houselights gradually dim, then plunge into pitch dark
entirely in a sudden crash. As the piercing riffs of "Smoke on the
Water" by Deep Purple reverberate against the arena walls, a single,
electric-blue spotlight lances down on the entrance.]

Mark Edwards: Making his way towards the ring, from Santa Cruz,
California, weighing in at two-hundred and forty-seven pounds... ETHAN
DE SADE!!

[As two brilliant white flames arise up on either side of the entrance
way, Ethan de Sade strides into view from behind the connecting curtain
to the back, the house lights turned back up to full in a blinding
flare. Ethan, clad in plain black trunks, bordered with red trim, with
his initials "EdS" embroidered in white script-type along the left front
side, patiently stalks to the ring, seemingly unaware of the fans, the
camera, or any other object in existence, save for the ring and his
potential opponents.]

CD: There's the man who'll win it right there, Worthington!

JW: Well, he's certainly one of the favourites in my mind, but...

CD: (Interrupting) Oh I see. So *now* you're jumping on the bandwagon!

JW: No, I'm merely stating that...

CD: (Interrupting) Quiet, Worthington, or I'll get my lawyers to silence
you for me!

["Gimme Back My Bullets" by Lynyrd Skynyrd replaces "Smoke on the
Water".]

Mark Edwards: And making his way towards the ring, from Dripping
Springs, Texas, weighing in at two-hundred and sixty-five pounds...
"COWBOYYYY" KEN CUUUUUURTISSSS!!

[Ken Curtis, clad in black full-length tights with black cowboy-style
wrestling boots, a black leather vest and a black, flat-crowned cowboy
hat, splits the entrance curtain and makes his way to the ring in a slow
bouncing jog, stopping only to jaw with a fan or two along the way.
Once Curtis gets into the ring, Ethan de Sade moves towards him, but
before they have the chance to start to duke it out, five officials
including security guards manage to persuade them to wait.]

JW: Talk about tension there!

CD: I don't blame them, either, Worthington! I'd be mad too if someone
told me I was eliminated from a previous match when I hadn't been.

JW: You just don't get it, do you?

CD: Get what, Worthington?

JW: Curtis and de Sade. They don't care about throwing each other over
the top rope here tonight. They wrestled for half and hour, each
man convinced that he'd end the feud here at Night of Glory, but
once again nothing has been settled. Not with James, not with Ethan
and not with Curtis.

CD: So what you're saying is they're out to win this thing?

JW: Why do I even bother?

[Sound of an auto wreck..... "I'M THE MAN" by Anthrax begins to play]

[A figure emerges from the back. He's dressed in black jean shorts and a
black t-shirt with the word "LEGEND" printed on the front in big red
letters. He has long tangled black hair which is tied into a pony tail
at the top of his head]

[He wears a noose around his neck with the end dangling to his feet.
It's none other than the "Legend" himself...]

Voice: IT'S LOCO.... GOD DAMN IT... HE'S LOCO.... IT'S LOCO!!!

Mark Edwards: And making his way towards the ring, from Waco, Texas,
weighing in at two-hundred and fifty-six pounds... THE LEGEND... LOCO!!

CD: OH MY GOD, WORTHINGTON!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!! HE'S ACTUALLY HERE!!

JW: Will you stop that!

CD: BUT, WORTHINGTON! IT'S HIM! IT'S LOCO!!

[The huge crowd response for LOCO continues as he steps into the ring
while "I'm the Man" fades out. The lights flicker, dim, then black out
completely. The camera focusses on the entrance-way where a shadow can
be seen. As smoke pours out by the aisle, a red spotlight shines from
the floor, giving the smoke a reddish tint. "Tire Me" by Rage Against
the Machine" cuts in and the man walks into the light, immediately
recognised by the crowd as they start their "KNU-CKLES...KNU-CKLES"
chant.]

Mark Edwards: Making his way down the aisle, from Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania, weighing in at two-hundred and fifty-nine pounds... BRASS
KNUCKLES!!

[Knuckles leisurely makes his way to the ring as a white laser light
begins to flicker on and off. As he gets to the ring, Knuckles slides
under the bottom rope and rests in the corner. The lights then return
as "Tire Me" fades.]

JW: Folks, Brass Knuckles, of course, managed to get by eight of the
toughest in this sport in that Wild Card match earlier this evening.

CD: Yeah, a tainted victory I might add, Worthington! Kiljoy got the
pin.

JW: Which was in turn reversed by the referee, and rightfully so I might
add.

MM: Well, Knuckles might have his work cut out for him here, but then
again, he could well go through all of these men and hold up the Trophy.

CD: (Sarcastically) So you're *really* sticking your neck out and saying
he'll either win or lose, Masterson? Damn, let me know which
broadcasting school you went to.

MM: Umm...why?

CD: I'll be sure to advise people to avoid it.

["Drag the Waters" by Pantera cranks up over the loudspeakers. The fans
immediately give a standing ovation.]

CD: Creed's coming out, people. That's not my music. No need to stand.

JW: I think they know that, Chris.

[Creed appears from behind the curtain, wearing his black jeans and
black boots with his hair tied in a ponytail. He also sports a black
t-shirt, which is splashed with a few spots of blood. The large bandage
is still on his forehead as he limps towards the ring.]

CD: Hey, look. It's the crip...

JW: (Interrupting) STOP!

CD: Come on, Creed. Hop to it! Get it, Worthington!

JW: (Groan) Yes, Chris. I get it.

[Creed slaps hands with a few of the fans as he walks towards the ring.
Creed starts to walk around the outside of the ring as the fans at
ringside try to reach out and touch him.]

MM: Almost as if he's stalking his prey now, Creed prepares to set foot
in the ring.

CD: What are you talking about, Masterson? He's just scared.

[Creed steps up to the ring apron and sits on the middle rope, holding
the ropes open and giving an open-hand gesture to Chris Douglas at the
commentary booth.]

CD: (Gesturing towards Creed) Hey, I've got better things to do than
kick you around, pal.

[Creed steps into the ring as "One" by Metallica starts to play over the
loudspeakers.]

Mark Edwards: And from Durham, North Carolina, weighing in at
two-hundred and fifty-five pounds... JEFF "MADFOX" MATTHEWS!!

[The crowd cheer big-time, as the clean shaven Jeff "Madfox" Matthews
walks down the aisle, wearing his long black wrestling pants with white
stripes on the side. "MAD" can be seen written on the right leg, while
"FOX" is written on the left. He high-fives the fans on the way to the
ring.]

CD: Not another of these fan-hugging nice guys, Worthington!

[Jeff Matthews steps into the ring and the arena lights dim as the funky
bass intro to "Higher Ground" by THE RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS begins
thundering over the P.A. system while the crowd cheers in anticipation.]

Mark Edwards: And, from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at
three-hundred and five pounds... "SCREAMING DRILLBIT" JAAAAASON
KEEEEEEENING!!

[A lone spotlight shines down onto the entrance curtains which are swept
aside as a heavily-muscled figure steps through. With long, straight
black hair framing his face, "Screaming Drillbit" Jason Keening stops
just inside the entrance and smiles as the fans cheer loudly. He waves
and jogs lightly down to the ring, slapping hands with fans along the
way as the spotlight follows him to ringside.]

JW: Well, there's the last, but certainly not the least of our fourteen
men set to square off in this one, folks.

CD: Yeah, the least of the participants came out a little while ago and
tried to persuade me to step in there!

JW: You just love being able to badmouth everyone from the safety of the
commentary booth, don't you.

CD: What can I say?... Life's a bitch!

JW: Keening is perhaps the biggest man in terms of bodymass in this
battle royal. This might well work in his favour, but it also might
work against him, since I imagine plenty of people will be gunning
for him.

[Jason Keening steps through the ropes as the officials start to leave
the ring. Before the bell can even sound, almost all fourteen men make
a mad dash to find someone or other to brawl with. Faintly heard in the
background over the deafening sound of the fans, the bell at last
sounds.]
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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JW: WE ARE UNDERWAY!! Unsurprisingly there, Ken Curtis and Ethan de
Sade are going right at it exchanging rights and lefts. de Sade
with a boot to the midsection and a forearm shot to the back, and
again drops the Cowboy. de Sade with an elbow drop, but Curtis
rolls out of the way. Folks, this is about as tough as it gets to
commentate on, but we'll try our best.

CD: It might be tough for you, Worthington, but not for an experienced
broadcast journalist like myself! I'll show you. Akuma and Maia
are locking up and Maia with...Umm... Take over, Worthington!

JW: (Sarcastically) Good job there, Chris.

CD: Why thank you!

JW: Brass Knuckles and LOCO are in one corner, and LOCO is *pounding*
away on Knuckles by the turnbuckles. Creed though, comes over and
hits LOCO with a kick to the back.

CD: Typical Creed.

MM: What, always helping others?

CD: No, always cheapshotting people.

JW: Jeff Matthews now, comes over to assist LOCO, and it's four-on-four
in that corner, with Knuckles and Creed teaming up against LOCO and
Matthews.

CD: Hey, it's *supposed* to be every man for himself.

JW: And you can bet it will be. It's good battle royal strategy to make
coalitions from the start.

MM: Take a look in the opposite corner. We've got Alex Extreme and
Magus *really* taking it to each other. They argued earlier this
evening, prior to teaming up to defeat Watts and Whitecross, but now
they're giving it all they've got against one another to survive in
this thing.

JW: And in another of the ring, we've got two other former team-mates
going at it, with Kashan Akuma taking it to Jinsei Shakanuzi.
Shakanuzi with a martial arts kick sends Akuma into the corner, and
Shakanuzi goes for another of those kicks, but Akuma moves, leaving
Shakanuzi off-balance. Akuma spins around him, and... SPINNING HEEL
KICK!!

[Immediately after executing this move, Akuma turns to the crowd and
executes a crotch chop, leading the fans to boo him tremendously. As
Akuma turns around, Jason Keening hits him with a standing dropkick,
sending him back into the ropes. Akuma grabs onto the top rope,
preventing himself from being eliminated, and turns back around to trade
blows with Keening.]

MM: Well, Jason Keening seems to be going after Kashan Akuma there, the
man who has been a hated enemy to Keening's brother, The Banshee.

JW: Kevin Slater now, and Matt Harris have gotten involved in the
Extreme and Magus brawl. We've got a four-way brawl between them in
one corner, Keening, Akuma, Shakanuzi and now Maia going at it in
that other corner, Madfox and LOCO teaming up against Creed and
Knuckles over in that corner, and de Sade and Curtis going at it
with nobody prepared to break them up.

CD: I'm not surprised, Worthington.

MM: Well, I think that covers everyone's whereabouts, and Knuckles and
Creed hit a double clothesline on Jeff Matthews. Extreme now,
coming over to Creed and Knuckles as he grabs both of their arms,
and runs towards Harris and Slater, taking them both down with a
three-way clothesline.

CD: That's a triple double clothesline with sprinkles, Masterson!

JW: Creed high-fives Knuckles and turns to Extreme who *nails* him in
the midsection with a fierce kneelift, and keeps a hold of his
arm... SINGLE ARM DDT!

CD: HA! I *LOVE* it!

JW: Extreme there, took advantage of the situation and he and LOCO start
stomping away on Creed.

CD: Someone's going, Worthington!

JW: Folks, over in that corner, de Sade has Curtis on the top
turnbuckle, and it looks like the Cowboy might be thr first to go
here tonight. de Sade is trying to lift him over the turnbuckle,
but the Cowboy is holding on as you might well imagine. Harris goes
over to help try to eliminate Curtis, as does Slater. Meanwhile,
Keening and Akuma are taking it to each other with no love lost
there.

MM: As you can imagine, this has turned out to be a brawl-fest to start
with anyway. Keening headbutts Akuma, but is left in a precarious
position as Akuma hits him with a questionable blow.

JW: Questionable? I'd say that was downright low.

CD: Who cares what you think, Worthington.

MM: Probably about ten times as many that care what you think, Chris.

CD: You'll pay for that come pay-day, Masterson!

JW: Akuma hits a DDT on Keening, while still in that one corner we've
got Harris, Slater, de Sade and now Magus attempting to eliminate
Ken Curtis.

MM: Curtis is almost out. After a hard fought battle against de Sade
and Casey James, this could well be the last we see of him here
tonight.

JW: Extreme though, is over there too and pulls Magus away as they start
to go back to work on one another. Magus locks Extreme in a
hammerlock, but Extreme counters with a back elbowsmash to the head
of Magus. Extreme turns Magus back around... BUT MAGUS GRABS A
WAISTLOCK AND THROW EXTREME TO THE MAT WITH A BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!

MM: We still have all fourteen guys in there, folks, as Slater is pulled
away from the Curtis and de Sade mess by LOCO. LOCO pulls Slater in
place for a powerbomb... BUT SLATER TURNS IT INTO A BACKDROP SENDING
LOCO OVER THE TOP ROPE!

CD: Is he out?

JW: Absolutely not. LOCO holds onto the top rope and while he went over
it, he didn't touch the floor. Slater is over to LOCO, and while
LOCO is holding onto the ropes with one hand, he blocks a Slater
roundhouse right with the other, then ducks down and rams his head
into Slater's midsection. LOCO jumps over him back into the ring,
and pulls Slater down into a sunset flip.

MM: WOW! While pinfalls don't count in this one, LOCO used his ring
smarts and resourcefulness to get back into the ring.

CD: I did that same thing once!

JW: (Sarcastically) Of course you did, Chris.

MM: Curtis is still on the brink of being eliminated by de Sade and
Harris, and Keening and Akuma are still taking it to one another.

JW: Akuma is one of the smallest men in this one, and Keening is one of
the biggest. Shakanuzi is over to that melee, and starts to kick
away at Keening, along with Akuma. Maia though, comes off the
ropes... ASAI MOONSAULT ONTO ALL THREE OF THEM!!

MM: Good Lord! Maia, Keening, Akuma and Shakanuzi are all down with
that one. Ethan de Sade still has Curtis on the brink of
elimination, but the Cowboy starts to execute some hard
axehandle-like blows, and is back down to the canvas.

JW: de Sade now, takes a break from Curtis and turns his attentions to
Creed. de Sade has Creed backed up in the corner, and starts to lay
into him with kick after kick to the midsection of Creed. Brass
Knuckles though, from behind grabs a hold of Ethan's hair. He pulls
him back into an inverted suplex position... AND EXECUTES AN
INVERTED DDT ON ETHAN DE SADE!!

MM: Creed and Knuckles high-five one another, and start to stomp away on
Ethan de Sade. Ken Curtis now, sees Matt Harris by the ropes and
runs at him with a lariat type move. The momentum carries Harris
back into the ropes, but he grabs onto the top rope, saving himself
from any potential elimination. Curtis decides to turn his
attention back to the Ethan situation, but pulls Knuckles away, and
nails him with a gutwrench suplex.

CD: He's assisting Ethan now?

[Curtis floors Creed with a running lariat, and drops to the mat by
Ethan, nailing him with rights and lefts to the side of the head.]

JW: I'm say it's more like a case of greed by the Cowboy, wanting to
beat up Ethan by himself.

CD: HA! Well the joke's on him then. Ethan's as tough as they come.
He'll have his work cut out.

JW: That he may, as Ethan rolls to the ropes, pulls himself up and kicks
Curtis. Ethan locks on a front-facelock and turns it into a
swinging neckbreaker. Folks, all fourteen men have astonishingly
managed to stay in this thing so far, but we could have an
elimination as LOCO has Knuckles on the ropes, and is trying to
throw him out.

MM: Creed though, to the rescue, as he hits LOCO with a roundhouse
right. Harris and Magus are double-teaming Extreme now, as they
take him down with a double hiptoss. Slater moves over to Extreme,
and... NORTHERN LIGHTS BOMB!!

[The crowd cheers wildly as Slater hits the move. As Slater gets up
though, he clutches his left knee.]

JW: That's one of Slater's favourite finishing moves right there, as
Extreme is in some serious trouble.

CD: Yeah, but he's on the mat. You're not going to eliminate him when
he's on the mat.

JW: That's true... BUT KEN CURTIS AND MATT HARRIS COULD WELL ELIMINATE
SLATER WITH A HUGE DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE...

MM: Slater is over the top rope... AND FALLS TO THE FLOOR!

[Crowd boos as Slater is eliminated.]

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... "Wildthing" Kevin Slater has been
eliminated.

JW: Curtis and Harris look impressed with themselves, and rightly so.
Slater hit a big-time move on Extreme, but ended up hurting that
left knee of his in the process.

MM: That nagging injury there came back to haunt Slater once again.

CD: It's an injury, Masterson, not a ghost!

JW: Well, LOCO now turns his attentions to Magus, but Magus has other
ideas as he drops LOCO with a drop toe-hold. Magus tries to put
LOCO into a camel clutch, but LOCO is too fast, rolling out of the
way and getting back to his feet.

CD: Curtis and de Sade are back fighting it out, Worthington!

JW: Absolutely, as de Sade takes Curtis down with a Japanese armdrag
takedown. Ethan follow it up with an anklelock submission hold
right there, but Creed breaks it up with a kick to the back of
Ethan's head.

CD: Damn cheapshot artist.

JW: Creed and Brass Knuckles now, pick Ethan up... DOUBLE VERTICAL
SUPLEX SEND HIM CRASHING DOWN TO THE CANVAS!

MM: Creed and Knuckles have been working well together as a team, as
they whip Curtis into the only free turnbuckle as he goes in hard.
Creed and BK run in after him... BUT CURTIS COMES OUT WITH A RUNNING
DOUBLE LARIAT AND NAILS BOTH OF THEM!!

JW: Good Lord! Curtis just floored two of the toughest brawlers in
there with that lariat move. That there shows you the awesome raw
strength "Cowboy" Ken Curtis possesses. The country strength of
Curtis showing through as he goes back to work on Ethan de Sade.

MM: I don't think those two are going to stop until one of other of them
is hurt, and seriously hurt.

JW: Akuma now is getting double-teamed by Keening and Shakanuzi.
Keening scoops him up... BODYSLAM! Shakanuzi gets elevated into the air
by Keening, right onto Akuma!

MM: Nice use of double-teaming there by Keening and Shakanuzi, as
Shakanuzi grabs onto the arm of Keening... AND EXECUTES A MARTIAL
ARTS KICK TO THE FACE!

CD: HA! Don't you just love the backstabbing! This is better than a
soap opera and a series of Springer combined!

JW: Maia is over to Akuma, and nails him with a dropkick to the knee.

[Maia grabs onto the head of Akuma, and burns it across the middle rope.
Maia then turns to the fans, screaming "DIE! DIE! DIE!"]

CD: Hey, Maia, Chris Myers will advise you of a good shrink if you need
one!

JW: Maia now, starts to choke Akuma, and there *really* is something a
little strange about Carlos Maia.

MM: He's just a suicidal daredevil, plain and simple.

CD: He's what they call in the psychology profession, a nut-case!

JW: (Sarcastically) Subtly put, Chris. Subtly put.

MM: Harris and Magus now, working together as they take Extreme down
with some elbow smashes to the back. Matthews is also in trouble,
as Jason Keening has him set up on the ropes, with a potential
elimination in sight.

JW: Curtis comes at Magus with a lariat, but Magus ducks... Curtis turns
around... AND MAGUS HITS HIM WITH A JUMPING DDT!

MM: That lariat was virtually cleaning house for Curtis, but Magus there
had it scouted. Magus and Harris now, are back on Extreme as they
both pick him up in a double front-facelock. We could be seeing a
double suplex attempt here, and they lift Extreme up... BUT EXTREME
SLIDES OUT THE BACK IN MID-AIR, LANDING ON THE CANVAS AND EXECUTING
AND STANDING DROPKICK ON MAGUS... SENDING MAGUS OVER THE TOP ROPE!

[The fans boo as Magus hits the floor.]

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... Magus has been eliminated.

JW: A tough break there for Magus, who really took it to several
competitors in this battle royal. Meanwhile, Extreme and Harris are
going at it as are Keening and Akuma once again, and LOCO and Creed.

MM: Harris now, picks up Extreme, and drops him in a shoulder-breaker.
Harris turns his attentions to Maia, who shouts towards him.

[Maia can be heard yelling "I'LL KILL YOU!" as Harris lays into him with
repeated headbutts.]

CD: Someone call the men in white coats! We have two escaped mental
patients right here!

JW: Folks, this has turned out to be a punishing event for everyone
involved, especially those who are now back out here for the second
time tonight. Creed was involved in perhaps the most brutal match
of all, but is still giving it his all against LOCO as he hits him
with a jawbreaker. Curtis and de Sade are back at one another as
Curtis nails him with some hard rights and lefts in the corner.

CD: Check out Harris and Maia, Worthington!

JW: Look out! Harris with a front-layout suplex drops Maia to the
canvas, and Harris locks in an STF!

MM: He won't keep him in that for long though, as Shakanuzi kicks him in
the back of the head. Harris is back up to his feet, as Shakanuzi
goes for a martial arts side kick. Harris ducks under it and locks
him in a Cobra Clutch... AND INTO AN EXPLODER SUPLEX!!

JW: That'll do some serious damage to the back of the head as the fans
are on their feet cheering for Matt Harris.

MM: Someone looks set to be eliminated...

JW: It's Creed on the ropes, as Ethan de Sade is about to get rid of
him.

CD: YEAH! You can do it, Ethan! I'm going round there to help him.
I'll be right ba...

JW: (Interrupting) Chris, don't you go anywhere.

MM: Ethan has him on the edge now, and he's going...

.

.

.

.

.

NO! BRASS KNUCKLES MAKES THE SAVE!

CD: DAMN!

JW: Creed now, sends Ethan into the ropes... Ethan rebounds off of the
other side... CREED HITS THE END OF THE LINE!!

[Mega response from the crowd.]

MM: Why don't you go up there now?

CD: I'm needed here in the commentary booth!

JW: Ethan is in trouble now, as LOCO is over to Creed and nails him from
behind. LOCO with a choke on Creed pulls him into the corner.

MM: Brass Knuckles is over there to aid Creed, but Matthews is over
there to aid LOCO once again! This is mayhem!

JW: Ethan is back up now, as he shakes off the cobwebs. He moves over
to Creed, who's caught up in the corner, and lays into him with a
barrage of blows. Ethan hooks Creed up... THE RIVET!! ETHAN LOCKS
CREED IN THE RIVET!!

MM: This is about the most punishing submission hold in the business,
but there are no submissions in this one.

CD: Yeah, pity, or Creed would be begging for mercy right about now.
Hey, in fact I think I hear him saying "I give, I want out!"

JW: I sincerely doubt that, but the pain that Creed is experiencing now
must be unbelievable.

MM: Brass Knuckles is there to make the save on Creed once again though,
as Ethan turns his focus to Knuckles. Knuckles pushes Ethan back
into the corner, and tries to lift him over the top. Ethan now is
holding on, as Knuckles continues to lift. Akuma though, moves in
on Knuckles and... SPINNING HEEL KICK BY AKUMA!! KNUCKLES IS DOWN!

JW: Akuma looks towards Knuckles as Ethan comes up to him... Waistlock
by Ethan... INTO AN OVER-HEAD RELEASE BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!!

CD: YEAH! Go Ethan!

JW: What are you, his cheerleader now?

CD: Quiet, Worthington!

JW: Jason Keening with an elbow drop on Akuma, and again as he tries to
extract revenge for The Banshee in the form of pain.

MM: Alex Extreme and Matt Harris now, have locked up. Extreme with a
hiptoss, but Harris reverses his weight and puts himself in control
of the momentum. Harris spins around the arm of Extreme... AND
TAKES HIM DOWN WITH AN IPPONZEI!

JW: Harris spins around, but is caught on the receiving end of a flying
bodyblock by the suicidal "Killer" Carlos Maia! Maia runs off the
ropes and jumps onto Harris with a big splash, but Harris lifts his
knees.

MM: Quick thinking there by Matt Harris as he gets himself out of what
could have been a fatal situation.

JW: So we have twelve guys left in there. Maia and Harris are both down
in the middle of the ring, Creed and Knuckles are getting
triple-teamed now by LOCO, Matthews and Extreme, Curtis and de Sade
are back beating the living daylights out of one another, and in the
far corner we've got Akuma, Shakanuzi and Keening taking it to one
another.

MM: Harris rolls to a free corner and pulls himself up. Ethan de Sade
and Ken Curtis brawl their way over to that corner, and Harris hits
Ethan hard with an Axe Kick.

JW: Ethan falls to the canvas as Harris and Curtis lock up. Harris with
a kneelift and he sets Curtis up for a powerbomb.

MM: Harris is very skilled at various powerbombs, and he goes to lift
Curtis, but the Cowboy holds onto the top rope. Harris tries to
lift again, but the Cowboy's grip on that top rope is strong.

JW: Harris might have to rethink his strategy here... BUT CURTIS
COUNTERS THE POWERBOMB ATTEMPT WITH A BACKDROP!

.

.

.

HARRIS GOES OVER THE TOP ROPE AND HITS THE FLOOR!!

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... Matt Harris has been eliminated!

MM: Harris there, a little unfortunate as he goes over the top, and we
are down to eleven. We've got Akuma in there fighting with Keening
and Shakanuzi, Curtis and de Sade going at it again, LOCO now
getting involved in the Akuma, Keening and Shakanuzi melee, and a
whole lot else going on!

JW: LOCO is over to Akuma and executes a big chop to the chest of him in
the corner.

CD: WHOOOO!

MM: Shakanuzi is going to the top rope! This is way too risky for my
liking here...

[Shakanuzi jumps off, nailing Ken Curtis with a missile dropkick. The
crowd are on their feet in appreciation.]

JW: OH....MY...GOD!!

MM: The risky nature of Shakanuzi paid off there, but he could have been
eliminated from that.

JW: CARLOS MAIA IS NOW ON THE TOP ROPE!!

[Maia jumps and lands a big splash from the top rope right onto Akuma
who had just been put to the canvas after a LOCO Gut Wrench Suplex.]

MM: GOOD LORD! I cannot believe the lengths some of these wrestlers are
going to in order to try to get ahead in this one.

JW: Usually you wouldn't see a reckless nature lay off in a battle
royal, but so far tonight there's been several risky moves executed,
with the biggest two right there paying off.

MM: Jeff Matthews now, has Creed in a headlock, but Creed reverses it
into a side suplex. Creed is all over The Madfox now, with lefts
and rights galore. Creed picks Matthews up and sends him into the
ropes, but Matthews reverses it. Matthews puts his head down... I
think we could see a backdrop here...

[Creed comes off the ropes and instead of going over in the backdrop,
hooks an arm of Matthews before spinning over his back and in one fluid
movement turning it into a DDT.]

JW: CREED TURNS IT INTO A BACKSPIN DDT!!

CD: That's luck for you.

JW: Chris, that was *not* luck. That was resourcefulness and ring
ability combined. Creed is turned around by LOCO, and LOCO sticks a
thumb into the eye of Creed. LOCO scoops Creed up... BIG
BACKBREAKER!

CD: YEAH!

MM: Keening now, has Akuma's arm... SHORT-ARM DDT!!

JW: Folks, this has turned out to be a match of hard-hitting action.
We've got Brass Knuckles now and Ethan de Sade locked up, and de
Sade backs Knuckles into the corner before ramming his head into
Knuckles' midsection by the turnbuckles.

MM: That'll take the wind right out of you, as de Sade throws Knuckles
down to the canvas. Ethan de Sade now, measures him up... Kneedrop,
but Knuckles move.

JW: Akuma and Shakanuzi over there in the corner are beating on each
other, and doing a good job of it too. Both are over there by the
ropes, and are in a less than safe predicament, but it's Keening's
who's most in trouble now, as Alex Extreme and Creed are trying to
get rid of him. Ethan de Sade is over there now, with an axehandle
blow to the back of Creed, and he locks in a full-nelson on the
brawler from Pheonix, Arizona, before dropping down and driving
Creed's face into the mat with a full-nelson front leg trip type
combination.

CD: Creed's had enough, Worthington! I can see it in his face. Just
announce him as being eliminated!

JW: I have a feeling that you're more than just a little wrong there,
Chris, as Creed is more than holding his own in there.

MM: Well, Akuma and Shakanuzi are still battling it out in that corner,
while another war that's been going on from the beginning between
Curtis and de Sade is still happening in the opposite corner.

JW: Brass Knuckles now though has locked up with Alex Extreme and takes
Mr. Excitement down with a sidewalk slam.

CD: OVER THERE, WORTHINGTON! AKUMA AND SHAKANUZI!!

JW: SHAKANUZI HAS JUST EXECUTES A BRAINBUSTER ON KASHAN AKUMA!! That's
Shakanuzi's set-up for his finishing move, the Capoeira Dance.

[Shakanuzi runs into the ropes and jumps onto the top one,
springboarding off with a reverse sommersault, ready to land a legdrop.
However, Akuma gets to his feet just as Shakanuzi is in mid-air with the
sommersault, and Akuma catches him in a side suplex kind of position in
mid-air. Akuma, with the momentum in his favour, then runs a couple of
steps with Shakanuzi before dropping him over the top rope to the
outside of the ring. Many of the fans boo, while the majority of them
are in awe of what just happened.]

MM: OH MY GAWD!!

JW: *U*N*B*E*L*I*E*V*A*B*L*E*

CD: How... but...

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... Jinsei Shakanuzi has been
eliminated.

JW: Well, we are down to ten men remaining, but Akuma isn't content on
what he just done, and slides out of the ring under the bottom rope.
Akuma goes towards the time keeper's table and grabs a chair and
moves towards Shakanuzi.

[Suddenly the fans at ringside stand, looking towards the aisle, as
Scorpio runs towards the ring. Scopio, wasting no time, goes straight
after Akuma, flying at him with a flying forearm and then taking it to
him on the concrete floor with punches and kicks much to the delight of
the fans.]

CD: What's he doing out here again, Worthington?

JW: I can honestly say I have no idea. Akuma and Shakanuzi of course,
are at each other's throats in the G-Pro organisation, but Scorpio,
to my knowledge is not under contract with them.

CD: Then he's just a bitter man wanting revenge for his loss earlier
this evening!

JW: I doubt that, Chris.

[Officials and security pour down to the ringside while the action
continues in the ring. They manage to seperate Shakanuzi, Scorpio and
Akuma, by sending Shakanuzi and Scorpio back to the locker room area to
a tremendous ovation from the fans, and Akuma gets back into the ring.]

CD: Hey, that guy was eliminated!

JW: Kashan Akuma certainly was not. He went under the bottom rope, so
must continue this match.

[Akuma steps back into the ring, only to immediately be attacked by
Jason Keening who takes him down with a snap suplex. The camera pans
over to one corner of the ring where "Killer" Carlos Maia can be seen
holding a cordless mic.]

CD: What the hell?!

MAIA: NOW THE NIGHT OF CHAOS BEGINS!!

JW: What on Earth is Maia talking abou...

[Worthington is interrupted by the lights going off and pitch blackness
arriving. After a few moments of silence, the lights come back on, very
faintly, as numerous people dressed as Demons, Devils, Witches and
Phantoms start to walk down to the ring.]

MM: What is this all about?

CD: Carlos Maia promised us a Night of Chaos, Masterson. Here it is.
Enjoy!

[The various people step into the ring and start to attack some of the
wrestlers other than Maia. Maia holds the mic up to his mouth once
again and starts screaming again.]

MAIA: AS I PROMISED YOU... THE NIGHT OF CHAOS IS HERE!!

CD: I told you!

JW: Carlos Maia is insane. Completely insane.

MAIA: I will leave you all with this thought... I could have you all
killed right now... But I won't do it...

JW: Thank God.

MAIA: I'll leave you with the... FEAR!!

[Maia then snaps his fingers as smoke fills the ring for several
seconds. As the smoke starts to clear, the devilish horde has left the
ring.]

CD: We need a head-count, Worthington! See if any of the wrestlers have
vanished!

[Carlos Maia then throws the mic to the outside of the ring, then jumps
over the top rope himself, laughing like a maniac as he walks back to
the locker room area. Fans are in shock, as are the wrestlers in the
ring who have not yet started to fight each other again.]

JW: What the heck was that all about?

Mark Edwards: La...Ladies and G..Gentlemen... "Killer" Carlos Maia has
been... eliminated?

JW: Edwards there is asking it as if it's a question, and I'd say it's a
pretty fair question to ask.

CD: Ahh, he went over the top, Worthington. He's out of there.

JW: Well, I've never before seen anything quite like that happen, but
still, this match must continue.

MM: And it is, as Curtis and de Sade are back fighting, as are Creed and
LOCO. Matthews and Extreme are locked up in a collar and elbow
tie-up in the center of the ring, and they're seemingly the only
ones intent of giving this a technical wrestling flavour.

CD: Well you're not watching Ethan de Sade then, Masterson.

[Ethan has Ken Curtis locked in a boston crab, while Kashan Akuma runs
off the ropes, dropping a leg across the back of Curtis' neck. Akuma
then runs at Jason Keening, nailing him with a spinning heel kick.]

JW: That sent Keening back into the ropes, and he's fallen back over the
top rope and to the flo... NO! Keening holds on for dear life and
pulls himself back into the ring. We almost had another elimination
right there, but Keening kept his composure and held on.

MM: Extreme has turned that collar and elbow with Matthews into a
reverse waistlock, but Matthews now reverses it into his favour.
Extreme reverses it again... AND TAKES MATTHEWS DOWN WITH A
BELLY-TO-BACK SUPLEX!!

JW: Things are starting to really heat up here, as Matthews rolls
backwards and gets back to his feet. Extreme is over to him and
kicks him in the midsection, but Matthews grabs his leg, and...
EXTREME WITH AN ENZIGIRI!

[The kick sends Matthews over in a sommersault as Extreme goes to the
middle turnbuckle.]

MM: Matthews now, is rising to his feet. Extreme jumps off with a
bodypress... BUT MATTHEWS CATCHES HIM IN MID-AIR AND POWERSLAMS HIM
TO THE CANVAS!!

JW: You have *got* to give Jeff Matthews one heckuva lot of credit for
pulling something like that off.

CD: Ahh, I'd have backflipped with him in mid-air, and then flipped him
over the top rope!

JW: (Sarcastically) I'm sure you would.

MM: Brass Knuckes now, pulls Matthews into the corner and starts to wail
on him right some hard punches.

CD: He ain't called Brass Knuckles for nothing you know!

JW: Knuckles of course earlier said that he wanted to get his hands on
Jeff Matthews, and this is his chance. Knuckles scoops up Matthews
and slams him down hard with a bodyslam. Matthews clutches his back
in pain, but gets right back up. Knuckles puts a boot to Matthews'
face, but Matthews catches it! Matthews spins him around, and
catches him in an... ATOMIC DROP!!

[As Knuckles rebounds off of Matthews knee, he turns around to be met
with a clothesline from Matthews.]

MM: KNUCKLES FALLS BACK, AND...

.

.

.

FALLS OVER THE TOP ROPE...

.

.

.

.

BUT HE HOLDS ONTO THE TOP ROPE AND STAYS IN THIS THING!!

JW: Knuckles pulls himself back into the ring. He's staying in this
one.

CD: Yeah, but for how much longer?... Matthews comes at him with a
clothesline.

JW: But Knuckles ducks, and...

.

.

.

BACKDROP...

.

.

.

MATTHEWS GOES OVER THE TOP ROPE!

.

.

.

BUT STAYS ON THE RING APRON!

MM: Matthews climbs back through the ropes, but Knuckles has his back
turned. Knuckles thinks he's already eliminated Jeff Matthews.

CD: He's better turn his ass around then. Matthews is right behind him!

JW: Knuckles does indeed turn around, and...

.

.

.

.

MATTHEWS WITH A FRANKENSTEINER!!

CD: Shouldn't that be a Madfoxensteiner!

JW: A few close calls there, as Knuckles and Matthews both got near
eliminations on each other. It's Keening and Akuma now, and Akuma
takes control with a spinning heel kick, sending Keening back into
the turnbuckles. Akuma moves in, but Keening grabs onto him and
with that awesome power lifts Akuma onto the turnbuckles. He looks
like he's trying to eliminate him.

CD: Who, Keening?

JW: No, Akuma.

CD: Don't you mean Asuma?

JW: No, it's Akuma, Chris. Akuma.

CD: So Asuma's trying to eliminate Akuma?

JW: ARGH!

[As Keening tries to push Akuma over the turnbuckles, Akuma rakes the
face of Keening. Keening grabs hold of his own face, while Akuma locks
in a front facelock , rebounding off of the ropes, and swinging around
to hit Keening with a DDT.]

MM: TORNADO DDT BY AKUMA!!

CD: Keening's gotta be a couple of inches shorter after that one!

JW: Over in the corner now, it's Ethan de Sade who's in trouble, as
Curtis and LOCO are trying to take his balance away and push him
over the top rope.

CD: Hold on, Ethan! You can do it! Stay in there!

JW: I'm no audio expert, but I don't think he can hear you, Chris.

MM: Alex Extreme now, has just sent Creed across the ring and into the
turnbuckles with an irish whip. Extreme runs in... HANDSPRING
ELBOW!!

JW: Shades of the Great Muta there as Creed falls to the canvas.
Extreme looks to the crowd, and he certainly seems impressed with
himself.

CD: Hey, I don't blame him! I'm impressed with myself everytime I kick
around Creed too!

JW: Akuma there is running off the ropes and runs towards Extreme...

.

.

.

HURRICANRANA!!

[Akuma grabs onto the top rope as he executes the move, sending Extreme
over the top rope and to the floor, but by holding onto the ropes
himself, Akuma pulls himself back into the ring, getting a huge and
somewhat uncharacteristic positive response from the crowd.]

CD: DID YOU SEE THAT, WORTHINGTON!!

JW: Absolutely amazing. But sadly for Alex Extreme he has been
eliminated.

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... Alex Extreme has been eliminated.

JW: Folks, there are eight men left in this thing. One of these eight
will walk away tonight with the Night of Glory Trophy.

CD: Well, if it's Creed, he'll probably melt the thing down and use it
to buy new a new brake system for his bike.

JW: Why would he need a new brake system for his bike?

CD: Umm...hmm... I have *no* idea!

JW: Folks, in there are Akuma, de Sade, Curtis, LOCO, Knuckles, Creed,
Matthew and Keening. One of those eight by the end of this match
will be able to stake claim to the Night of Glory Trophy.

MM: And I don't like de Sade's chances right now as Akuma and Matthews
join in the attempt to push him over the top rope. That's Curtis,
LOCO, Akuma and Matthews all trying to push de Sade out of there.

CD: HANG ON, ETHAN!

JW: Creed and Knuckles with a double-team on Keening as Creed executes a
backbreaker and Knuckles drops the elbow immediately afterwards.
Creed is over to the four men trying to eliminate de Sade, and grabs
the leg of Matthews and tries to eliminate all five of them at once!

MM: Creed picking no favourites, but isn't able to eliminate them, as
there's just too many of them there.

CD: HA! What a Creed!

JW: What a what?

CD: What a Creed.

JW: A Creed?

CD: Yeah, look it up in a dictionary. It means moron! Now all those
five are going to go right after Creed!

MM: Highly doubtful as Creed and Knuckles run with a double
clothesline...

.

.

.

RIGHT INTO JEFF MATTHEWS!!

JW: Matthews falls back... AND OVER THE TOP ROPE TO THE FLOOR!

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... Jeff "Madfox" Matthews has been
eliminated!

CD: Another one down, Worthington!

JW: And this time it was Jeff Matthews subject to a double-team.

CD: Yeah, by that no good cheater Creed and his side-kick Brass
Knuckles!

JW: Only seven remain now, as de Sade and Curtis duke it out again over
in the corner while it's a mad fight between the rest of them.

MM: LOCO and Knuckles lock up, and LOCO chokes him into the corner.
Creed and Akuma are battling it out, while Keening with a standing
dropkick puts a hold on that plan. Keening grabs an arm of LOCO,
and spins him into an arm-ringer. Keening keep hold of the arm and
executes a short-arm clothesline, dropping LOCO. Akuma though,
blindsides Keening with a kick to the back, and one to the
midsection doubles Keening over. Akuma's going for the powerbomb,
but I don't quite see how's he's going to get a three-hundred plus
pound man up into it.

JW: I have my doubts too, as Keening reverses it into a backdrop,
sending Akuma over the top, but the aerial ability of Akuma pays
off, as he grabs onto the ropes, keeping himself on the ring apron.
Keening turns around and sees Akuma, as he springboards back into
the ring and goes for another hurricanrana, but this time on
Keening.
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[Keening is quick to realise what's going on, and turns in into a
sit-down powerbomb, with Akuma's head literally *bouncing* off of the
canvas.]

MM: WHAT A COUNTER! Keening there, indeed extracts some revenge for his
brother.

JW: Keening is on a roll as he picks up Creed and bodyslams him to the
canvas. Keening picks up LOCO and bodyslams him too. Keening is
taking control of this battle royal!

CD: Not for long though, Worthington! They're double teaming... NO!
They're triple teaming him!

[Creed, Brass Knuckles and LOCO start to pound on Keening. Creed and
Brass Knuckles whip Keening into the ropes and put their heads down,
sending him up into the air with a double backdrop, while LOCO catches
Keening on the way down and spikes him into the canvas. LOCO then runs
towards Creed and Knuckles with a double clothesline, but Creed and BK
duck, and LOCO goes into the ropes. On the rebound, BK hits a boot in
the midsection of LOCO, and Creed and BK double DDT the Legend.]

JW: GOOD LORD! Anything can happen here in the Night of Glory Battle
Royal, and it has. LOCO teams with Creed and BK, then turns on them
only to find himself becoming the target.

[Akuma moves over to Ethan de Sade who appears to have Ken Curtis nearly
eliminated. Akuma dropkicks Ethan de Sade, sending him over the top of
Curtis, and to the ring apron. Ethan holds onto the ropes as Curtis
tries to punch him off of the ring.]

MM: Ethan's going...

CD: NO! NO! NO! Stay in this thing, Ethan!

[Ethan de Sade pulls himself back into the ring as Akuma has Curtis'
attentions following a vicious spin-kick. Akuma sends Curtis into the
ropes, or attempts to at least, but Curtis with his huge mass of raw
power reverses the whip-in and sends Akuma fast into the ropes.]

JW: At lightening speed now, Akuma comes off the other side. Curtis
puts his head down, and Akuma leap-frogs him. Akuma comes off
again, and again Curtis puts his head down repeating the previous
incident as Akuma leap-frogs him... RIGHT INTO THE WAITING ARMS OF
JASON KEENING WHO POWERSLAMS HIM WITH THE MOMENTUM!

MM: We've got Ethan de Sade and Creed battling it out now as de Sade
locks in a standing arm bar. Creed though, isn't standing for any
of this, as he lifts his forearm right into the face of de Sade,
breaking the hold.

CD: There *has* to be *something* illegal there!

MM: Ethan with a kneelift and locks Creed's head up for a DDT...

.

.

.

CREED COUNTERS BY LIFTING HIM UP IN THE HOLD AND DUMPING HIM OVER
THE TOP ROPE!!

CD: NO! Ethan's holding on! He's not hit the floor yet!

MM: Ethan de Sade has a hold of Creed still as Creed is near elimination
himself. Creed is hanging over the ropes, while Ethan has almost
hit the floor, and if Creed has his way, he will do any second now.
Curtis though runs over and it looks to be with a shoulderblock...

JW: Brass Knuckles is over to help too as Ken Curtis runs into Creed,
who drops Ethan AND ETHAN HITS THE FLOOR!

CD: NOOOOOOO!! Let him back in! LET HIM BACK IN!!

[Brass Knuckles doesn't see that Ethan has been eliminated, and while
shoving Creed in the hope to help him eliminate de Sade, Knuckles
inadvertantly shoves too hard, sending Creed over the top rope himself
and crashing down to the floor as the crowd look shocked.]

CD: YES! YES! YES! Creed has gone! *C*R*E*E*D* *H*A*S* *G*O*N*E*

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... both Ethan de Sade and Creed have
been eliminated.

JW: Folks, that was just unbelievable. Two men gone within seconds of
one another.

CD: Yeah, and you've got to give Brass Knuckles credit for pulling that
off! He got rid of Creed! Pearl Harboured the guy.

JW: That certainly was not the case, but nonetheless, both Ethan de Sade
and Creed are out of this. Keening, Knuckles, Akuma, Curtis and
LOCO remain. Just five men, but only one will win.

CD: We're almost down to four now, Worthington! LOCO has Ken Curtis
nearly eliminated!

[LOCO has a leg of Curtis over the top rope, and as Curtis holds onto
the top rope with one hand and the bottom rope with the other, LOCO
continues the struggle to try to get him out of the ring. Meanwhile,
Brass Knuckles headbutts Kashan Akuma, then drops him to the canvas in a
t-bone suplex.]

JW: Nice move there by Knuckles as he and Keening now go at it. They're
into one corner, and Keening with a monkey-flip takes Knuckles out
of it. Knuckles with a full flip lands on his feet as Keening runs
towards him. Perhaps a clothesline... NO! Knuckles lifts him up
and drops his throat right across the top rope in a hotshot-type
maneuver.

MM: You have *got* to respect all of the wrestlers who have lasted this
far in this match. That's not to belittle any of those who were
eliminated sooner, since everyone here has already fought in at
least one tough match this evening. But to have first of all done
that, and then to have made it this far really says something about
them.

JW: That's right on the money, Mike.

CD: No way, Worthington! The damn suck up just wants their autographs
for his kids!

[Akuma from behind chops the back of LOCO before twisting his arm
around, jumping up in a spinning motion and falling back down while
keeping hold of his arm, sends LOCO flying across the ring, as Curtis
falls onto the ring apron and pulls himself back in under the bottom
rope.]

JW: Non-stop from the opening bell, these men have been focussed on
winning this thing, and I think it's going to come down to
resilience.

MM: That vital factor certainly will be the key determinant as Keening
picks up Brass Knuckles in position for that devastating Drilldown
move of his, but Knuckles is too close to the ropes and holds on.

CD: That could have been it right there for Knuckles, Masterson. His
head could have bounced off of that canvas so hard, he'd have been
seeing stars for weeks!

JW: Well, if you want to see stars, this is the place to be.

MM: Keening drops a hard blow across the back of Knuckles, forcing him
to let go of the ropes. Keening with a whip in on Knuckles and
catches him on the rebound... SPINEBUSTER SLAM!

[Curtis sees that Jason Keening is pre-ocupied with Knuckles, who's now
on the canvas and takes advantage of the situation, pulling Keening up
into position for a powerslam.]

JW: WHAT STRENGTH! Curtis actually has him up. A three-hundred plus
pound man, and he's going to powerslam him!

[Curtis runs a couple of steps before dropping Keening down in a
powerslam. At this same point in time, Kashan Akuma locks in an
inverted indian deathlock/grapevine hold with a bridge into a chinlock
on LOCO. Knuckles is still down from the spinebuster slam.]

MM: Goodness! LOCO is in trouble now. He's already been put in several
punishing submission holds tonight by Setzer Van Strife, but LOCO is
not one to give up.

CD: He doesn't have that option here, Masterson. It's over the top rope
eliminations only.

JW: That's true, but nonetheless, Kashan Akuma has that Sickle Hold on
LOCO, causing an unbelievable amount of pain to the legs, back and
neck of LOCO. I tell you, whatever happens here tonight, none of
these men will be the same again.

MM: Curtis stomps away at both Knuckles and Keening and turns towards
LOCO. Curtis with a couple of stomps on LOCO, who's still in that
Sickle Hold, puts even more pain on LOCO. Curtis kicks Akuma now,
forcing him to break the hold, as he shows us that he'll pound away
on anyone in this.

CD: Big mistake by the Cowboy, Masterson. He should have left Akuma and
LOCO there and kept on top of Knuckles and Keening.

JW: I'd tend to agree with you, but Curtis quite frankly likes the odds
to be stacked against him.

CD: Just like me!

JW: (Coughing with shock) HUH?!?

CD: You know it, Worthington!

MM: Curtis has Akuma set up now... BELLY-TO-BELLY! Curtis goes to the
middle turnbuckle and... LEGDROP!

JW: Curtis is on fire right now as he sends Knuckles who's just got up,
back to the canvas with a bodyslam. Curtis picks Keening off of the
canvas, but is blind-sided by Akuma with a waistlock INTO A GERMAN
SUPLEX!

CD: UNBELIEVABLE, WORTHINGTON! Akuma hits a release German suplex on a
man around seventy pounds heavier than himself!

JW: I...I'm in shock as Akuma and LOCO go back at it, as LOCO picks
Akuma up, and... SIDE SLAM! LOCO chokes Akuma down on the canvas,
and Keening starts to stomp Akuma too. Knuckles and Curtis are in
the center of the ring, and...

[Brass Knuckles grabs Ken Curtis' head, and spins around, driving him
into the mat in a Samoan bulldog/Diamond Cutter type move.]

JW: ...BRASS KUTTER!!

[Curtis lies almost motionless on the canvas as Knuckles lays a kick
into the back of LOCO, ending the choke hold on Akuma. Knuckles sends
LOCO into the ropes, and LOCO comes off with a clothesline. As luck
would have it, BK has the same idea and also goes for a clothesline.
Both connect with it, and both fall to the canvas.]

MM: OH MY! Three men are down in the center of the ring now! We've got
Curtis, Knuckles and LOCO all down. Akuma is recovering from that
vicious choke hold LOCO put him in and seems to be taking it out on
"Screaming Drillbit" Jason Keening as he puts him in an abdominal
stretch!

JW: Akuma has done amazingly well, despite his lack of mass. A battle
royal tends to favour those who have a low center of gravity, and a
great deal of strength, but it's Akuma putting Keening in this hold,
and Keening is hurt.

CD: IN THE CROWD, WORTHINGTON! LOOK IN THE CROWD!

JW: Oh...my...

[The camera pans out to the crowd where The Banshee can be seen holding
up a sign that reads "FUNUKE" in both English and Japanese kanji
characters and pointing towards Akuma.]

CD: HEY! Take that sign away from him! You can't have that on National
Television!

JW: Chris, funuke is Japanese. It means coward.

[The Banshee holds the sign up high as Akuma turns and sees it.
Furious, Akuma drops Keening to the canvas and points towards The
Banshee, yelling.]

CD: Hey, Akuma's yelling like a banshee at the Banshee!

JW: Jason Keening's brother, the Banshee is taunting Akuma now, and
Akuma does not like this one bit.

CD: And you blame him?

[Jason Keening rolls over and uses the ropes to get to his feet. He
runs at an unsuspecting Kashan Akuma with a clothesline as Akuma is too
intent on trying to get the Banshee to leave. Keening nails Akuma with
the clothesline and sends him over the top rope and to the floor,
receiving a huge crowd pop.]

JW: HE'S GONE! KASHAN AKUMA IS OUT OF THERE!!

CD: NOOOO! Let him back in! He was robbed! Cheated! Hoodwinked!

JW: Huh?

CD: I've no idea either. I just heard it on TV!

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... Kashan Akuma has been eliminated!

JW: There's the announcement that makes it official. Akuma is out and
we are down to four men, three of which are on the canvas.

[The camera focusses on the outside of the ring as Akuma tries to get
into the crowd and to the Banshee. Security restrain him and move him
towards the locker room area as the camera is back on the ring.]

MM: We just have Ken Curtis, LOCO, Brass Knuckles and Jason Keening
left. Four men, one trophy.

CD: I'm going with LOCO, Masterson. LOCO all the way!

JW: Well, he's got some work to do yet as it looks to be Keening in
control since he's the only one standing right now.

CD: (Sarcastically) Astute observation there, slappy.

JW: Knuckles is back up to his feet as LOCO and Curtis are now moving.
Keening with a European Uppercut, and again sends Knuckles reeling.

MM: Keening really knows how to use those uppercuts effectively, and
coupled with his huge arms, it can really take a lot out of his
opponent who right now is Brass Knuckles. Knuckles is sent for the
ride, and Keening goes for a clothesline. Duck under by Knuckles
and he goes into the other ropes. Keening drops to the canvas and
Knuckles jumps over him as he runs... BUT LOCO IS UP AND SLEEPERHOLD
APPLIED TO BRASS KNUCKLES!

CD: Sweet dreams, BK. It's hasta for you, pal.

JW: Don't count Knuckles out yet as he counters with a jawbreaker. It's
LOCO now that's reeling and Knuckles clotheslines him to the canvas.
Curtis is back up and spins Knuckles around catches him in position
for an inverted DDT...

[Rather than in inverted DDT, Curtis lifts Knuckles up into an inverted
suplex position, and at vertical position, drops down in a
brainbuster-esque move.]

MM: OUCH! Not much more you can say about that aside from OUCH!

JW: Curtis' tremendous and virtually unparalleled country strength has
allowed him to pull of some awesome power moves on some huge guy so
far tonight, but that has to be by far the most impressive.

CD: Ahh, I've done better moves than that in my sleep!

JW: Knuckles is in trouble as Curtis locks up with Keening. Keening
locks in a hammerlock by slipping behind, but Curtis reaches down
and grabs a leg of Keening, tripping him.

CD: He be'z trippin'!

JW: What on Earth are you going on about?

MM: Curtis keeps hold of Keening's leg and turns him around in a legbar.

CD: Hey! He's a Cowboy! He's not supposed to be able to execute
wrestling moves!

JW: Well, despite the fact that Ken Curtis is more renowned for his
brawling and power techniques, his technical ability is also well
above par as he's showing us here.

[Curtis pulls hard on the leglock on Keening, but it's soon broken up by
LOCO who stomps on both men. Knuckles also gets to his feet, and plants
and elbow into the back of the head of LOCO. Knuckles tries to whip
LOCO into the ropes, but it's reversed by LOCO.]

MM: Knuckles on the rebound... SUPERKICK BY LOCO!! SUPERKICK!!

CD: That knocked Knuckles' teeth down his throat, Worthington!

JW: I wouldn't go that far, but Knuckles falls back and into the
ropes...

.

.

.

.

HE'S OVER THE TOP ROPE!!

MM: KNUCKLES HAS GONE!

JW: NO WAIT! Brass Knuckles holds on with all his might as he pulled
himself back onto the ring apron before both of his feet could touch
the floor. Knuckles is still in this thing.

[Knuckles rolls back into the ring as LOCO pushes him into the corner.]

MM: LOCO with a hard reverse knife edge chop...

[Crowd: WHOOOOO!]

MM: ...and again...

[Crowd: WHOOOOO!]

MM: ...AND AGAIN!

[Crowd: WHOOOOO!]

JW: Look at the face on Brass Knuckles. He's had enough of this.

[Knuckles grabs LOCO and spins around so it's now LOCO in the corner and
Knuckles on the offensive. Knuckles starts to pound away on the head of
LOCO, opening up a previous cut from his match against Setzer Van
Strife.]

CD: He's bleeding for Night of Glory, Worthington! Again!

JW: All of these men have taken a tremendous beating already tonight and
Keening has Curtis on the ropes. He could well eliminate him here.

[Curtis is holding onto the ropes with his hands, and scissoring them
with his legs. Keening is one one knee as he has the bulk of Curtis up
on his shoulders while trying to power him over the top rope.]

MM: Curtis, Keening, Knuckles and LOCO still in there as Knuckles slams
LOCO to the canvas and goes over to help Keening in the attempt to
eliminate Curtis.

CD: Smart move on the part of Brass Knuckles, I must admit. Team up to
eliminate one person, and then turn on the rest of them straight
after!

JW: Well, it's every man for himself as you can probably gather by now
as LOCO is over to try to help eliminate Curtis too! We've got
LOCO, Keening and Knuckles all assisting one another in a bid to
eliminate the Cowboy, and I have a feeling with their combined
efforts, they might well get the job done.

CD: Think again, Worthington! Knuckles and LOCO are back going at it
with rights and lefts. Give him the old left hook and knock him on
his ass, LOC!

JW: This certainly is not boxing, but it appears that way at the moment.
Keening takes a fist to the face from Curtis as the Cowboy pulls
himself back into the ring.

CD: That's about the fifth time Curtis has saved himself from
elimination, Worthington. If he wins this one, he can thank his
lucky stars!

JW: I don't think luck will prevail here, Chris. I have a feeling it'll
be skill and stamina that will bring us our winner.

CD: Well then, Worthington, I'm right here! Hand me the trophy!

JW: I have an odd feeling that hell would freeze over before security
would allow you out of the building with that trophy. This is
prestigious and *must* be *earned*.

MM: And maybe it's LOCO who's earned it as he has Brass Knuckles
half-way eliminated once again.

[LOCO can't seem to eliminate Knuckles, so lets him go for a moment
while stepping back a few paces. Meanwhile, Keening drops Curtis on the
other side of the ring with a thundering powerbomb.]

JW: OH MY GOD! Did you see Curtis' head bounce off of the canvas.
Unbelievable. But it's LOCO now with another superkick on Brass
Knuckles and if he connects, he'll kick him clean out of the ring
this time...

[LOCO goes for the superkick, but Brass Knuckles sees it coming and
grabs onto LOCO's boot. Knuckles spins LOCO around, disorientating him,
while Keening and Knuckles link arms and run at LOCO with a
clothesline.]

CD: STAY IN THERE, LOCO!!

JW: LOCO falls back...

.

.

.

AND OVER THE TOP ROPE TO THE FLOOR!!

CD: NOOOOO!

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... LOCO has been ELIMINATED!!

JW: That's three left. Three left, folks, as the valiant effort by a
true Legend of this sport, LOCO, comes to an end.

MM: LOCO looks a little annoyed at himself as he leaves ringside and
goes back towards the locker room area. You cannot deny the
athleticism it takes to get this far, and LOCO went way above and
beyond the call of duty, surviving that cage match and going on to
coming within a whisker of winning the Night of Glory Trophy. But
it wasn't to be as we are left with "Cowboy" Ken Curtis, Brass
Knuckles and "Screaming Drillbit" Jason Keening.

CD: My money's on the Cowboy!

JW: You money's been on about four or five different participants in
this match so far, Chris.

CD: Yeah, and eventually I'm bound to be right!

MM: There's logic for you as Curtis is in the corner of the ring, hurt
from that powerbomb courtesy of Jason Keening, while Keening and
Knuckles battle it out in the center of the ring.

[Knuckles and Keening exchange blows until a Knuckles' uppercut is
blocked by Keening and Keening gets in a few punches of his own.
Keening wraps his arms around Knuckles' neck and arms and drops him to
the mat with a front-facing Russian legsweep, also known as a legsweep
faceslam.]

JW: Keening almost has this match won now. He has Curtis down in one
corner and Knuckles in a whole lot of trouble. As long as he
doesn't make any mistakes, this one is his for the taking.

[Keening sends Knuckles into the ropes and goes for a standing dropkick.
Knuckles, however, sees it coming and keeps hold of the ropes as he gets
sent into them, leading to Keening falling onto the back of his head
after the missed dropkick.]

CD: You spoke too soon, Worthington!

JW: It would appear that way, but how quickly does the tide turn in
battle royals, especially when you've got three guys in there with
the calibre of Curtis, Keening and Knuckles.

MM: Knuckles is climing to the second turnbuckle, and if I could advise
anyone against doing anything right now, it would be to tell
Knuckles not to take any risks. Taking a chance that might not pay
off at this stage might be fatal.

[Keening rises to his feet as Knuckles comes off of the second
turnbuckle with a double axehandle right across his back. Keening drops
to the canvas as Knuckles follows right up with an elbow drop.]

CD: You were saying, Masterson?!

[Knuckles lifts Keening up and goes to start a Northern Light Suplex.
However, Keening keeps a good grip, and pounds on Knuckles' back before
lifting him up into a piledriver position. Curtis sees what's going on
and pulls himself up by the ropes before moving over and assisting
Keening with a Spike Piledriver.]

JW: GOODNESS! That's the Drilldown on Knuckles, and Keening had some
help from Curtis there...

[Curtis grabs onto Keening and throws him nonchalently across the ring
and over the top rope. Keening holds onto the top, pulling himself back
in, but Curtis doesn't realise and turns his full attention to
Knuckles.]

MM: Curtis is under the belief that he's eliminated Jason Keening, but I
can tell you for a fact he hasn't.

CD: Hey, it was close enough! Just give him the elimination!

JW: I can't see that happening any time soon myself, but there's no harm
in wishing, Chris, as Ken Curtis pulls Brass Knuckles to his feet
and stands him by the ropes. Curtis steps back a couple of paces
and...

.

.

.

RUNNING LARIAT SENDS KNUCKLES OVER THE TOP ROPE!!

.

.

.

.

.

.

AND TO THE FLOOR!! KNUCKLES IS OUT!! BRASS KNUCKLES HAS BEEN
ELIMINATED!!

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... BRASS KNUCKLES HAS BEEN
ELIMINATED!!

[Ken Curtis throws his arms into the air.]

CD: Curtis wins!

JW: Curtis certainly thinks that way, but Jason Keening is still in
there. Keening has not been eliminated, and he's waiting, just
waiting for Ken Curtis to turn around. Curtis is dangerously close
to those ropes and has no idea that Keening is there as he points
towards the Night of Glory Trophy.

CD: (Pointing towards Keening and shaking his head) COWBOY!! KEENING!!
HE'S STILL IN THERE!!

MM: Curtis hears you and turns around...

.

.

.

BUT IT'S TOO LATE!! JASON KEENING IS RUNNING AT HIM WITH A
CLOTHESLINE!!

[Just before Keening has the chance to connect, Curtis puts his head
down, sending him over the top rope with a backdrop. However, Keening
lands on the ring apron, and steps back in between the ropes as Curtis
once again has his back to him. Keening runs at Curtis, but again
Curtis turns around in time and catches him in a powerslam.]

CD: I don't think my heart can take any more of this, Worthington!

JW: This is a real edge-of-your-seat nailbiter here, folks. Either
"Screaming Drillbit" Jason Keening or "Cowboy" Ken Curtis will be
walking out of here with the Night of Glory Trophy, and right now
it's anybody's guess who it will be.

MM: Curtis goes to the middle turnbuckle now, and with a second-rope
forearm drop proceeds to work over Jason Keening. Curtis isn't
holding back for one second as he pulls Keening back up and...
GUTWRENCH SUPLEX!

CD: The match is Curtis'! Give him the trophy now!

JW: You know what they say about it not being over.

CD: Yeah, it ain't over 'til the fat lady sings, but look at that chick
in the front row, Worthington! Get her to sing a note or two and
it'll *all* be over!

JW: Don't even go there!

[Curtis whips a worn-down Keening into the ropes and goes for a hotshot.
As Keening is sent up into the air, he lands a couple of punches to the
head of the Cowboy, dropping him too while Keening lands throat-first on
the top rope.]

MM: That'll take a lot out of both men, but it's Keening who's a little
more the worse for wear as Curtis, shaking off the cobwebs points to
the top turnbuckle.

CD: I can see it coming, Masterson! He's going for that Cowboy-plex!

[Ken Curtis places Jason Keening on the top rope, and climbs to the
middle turnbuckle himself. Curtis sets Keening up as if to go for a
superplex, but Keening blocks it and headbutts the Cowboy, sending him
back to the canvas.]

JW: Keening really needed to find a way out of that if he wanted to stay
in this thing, and he did. The three-hundred plus pound Jason
Keening is up on the top turnbuckle and Curtis is down on the
canvas.

[Jason Keening jumps off of the top rope with an uncharacteristic big
splash right across the chest of the Cowboy.]

MM: He took a risk, it paid off. Plain and simple.

CD: I know you are!

JW: Keening is in control now. He stomps away on Curtis and drops an
elbow. Keening knows he's within a few moments of winning this
thing, but he's going to need to get Curtis over the top rope and to
the floor. A daunting task, but if anyone can do it, it'll be
Keening.

MM: Keening pulls Curtis up, and perhaps this might be his chance to
eliminate the Cowboy.

CD: Don't count on it, Masterson! Keening's got his arm and is going
for a SHORT-ARM CLOTHESLINE!

JW: And what an awe inspiring one at that! Keening has Curtis right
where he wants him, and the fans are loving every second of this!
Keening with a kneelift and grabs onto the head of Curtis... RUNNING
BULLDOG!!

[Keening follows up the assault by lifting Curtis onto the ropes. With
his tremendous strength he attempts to power Curtis over the top, but
Curtis has other ideas as he sticks a thumb into the eye of Keening.]

CD: YEAH! A Greco-Roman thumb to the eye!

[Curtis whips Keening into the corner of the ring and runs in, hitting
him hard with a hard running lariat. Keening starts to fall out of the
corner, but Curtis picks him up in an inverted atomic drop type position
and places him on the top rope. Curtis stands on the middle turnbuckle
himself and starts off a superplex attempt.]

JW: THIS COULD BE IT RIGHT HERE...

[Curtis lifts the huge Keening into the air with the superplex, and in
mid-air turns it into a powerslam, sending Keening crashing down to the
canvas.]

MM: *C*O*W*B*O*Y*P*L*E*X*!!

CD: Curtis did it! He nailed the Cowboy-plex right on Keening! PIN
HIM!!

JW: Pinfalls don't count in this one, Chris.

CD: DON'T PIN HIM!!

[Curtis holds onto his own right shoulder with his left hand and rotates
it in a circle, seemingly in pain. Keening starts to make it to his
feet by the ropes after rolling over as Curtis holds onto his own
shoulder.]

JW: Curtis is in pain. He's favouring that right shoulder, and this
could work against him.

[After a few moments, Keening comes running at Curtis with a
clothesline. Curtis ducks it, and Keening goes into the ropes. Curtis
runs, following in too...]

MM: CURTIS IS GOING FOR THE LARIAT ON KEENING RIGHT BY THE ROPES...

CD: PUT THE WAGONS IN A CIRCLE, WORTHINGTON!! THE COWBOY IS ON THE
WAR-PATH!!

JW: Curtis with that lariat runs right at Keening...

.

.

.

AND SENDS HIM OVER THE TOP ROPE...

.

.

.

.

.

AND TO THE FLOOR!!! CURTIS WINS!! THE COWBOY WINS!!

[Huge crowd response as Keening hits the floor. Some fans, clearly
upset by the elimination of Keening bow their heads in sorrow, while
others are up on their seats cheering for Ken Curtis.]

Mark Edwards: Ladies and Gentlemen... YOUR WINNER... "CCCCOOOOOWBOYYY"
KENNNNN CUUUUUUURRRRRRRRTISSSSS!!

JW: Curtis did it, wrestling fans. "Cowboy" Ken Curtis has won the
Night of Glory Trophy!!

MM: Credit goes to Jason Keening who took the fight right to Ken Curtis,
but it's the Cowboy who prevails.

JW: Yes indeed, and... Chris?

[Chris Douglas grabs the Night of Glory Trophy and walks towards the
ring. Douglas steps up onto the ring apron and through the ropes.
Curtis, up on the turnbuckles doesn't see Douglas yet, as he climbs
down.]

MM: I have a *terrible* feeling about this.

JW: Curtis spins around and sees Douglas. They're nose-to-nose, and...
Douglas hands Curtis the trophy!! Curtis has it!! Ladies and
Gentlemen... COWBOY KEN CURTIS IS THE NIGHT OF GLORY TROPHY WINNER!!

MM: Unbelievable, Joseph. Totally incredible.

JW: Folks, we are well and truly out of time. For Chris Douglas in the
ring, and Mike Masterson right here, this is Joseph Worthington
saying SO LONG, FOLKS!!

[The shot of Ken Curtis standing on the middle turnbuckle while holding
up the Night of Glory Trophy is pauses as a still on the screen before
the copyright notices are displayed.]

© MAIN EVENT PRODUCTIONS 1998

[Fade to black.]
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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