| Welcome to JTF Squaretable. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| An Evening of Stars; All by Chris Douglas | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 11 2008, 12:21 AM (1,091 Views) | |
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:21 AM Post #1 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
[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 "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 | |
![]() |
|
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:24 AM Post #2 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
______________________________________________________________ | _ __ ______ | | / | / /___ / ____/ 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 | |
![]() |
|
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:25 AM Post #3 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
______________________________________________________________ | _ __ ______ | | / | / /___ / ____/ "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 | |
![]() |
|
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:27 AM Post #4 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
______________________________________________________________ | _ __ ______ | | / | / /___ / ____/ | | / |/ / __ \/ /___ 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 | |
![]() |
|
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:28 AM Post #5 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
______________________________________________________________ | _ __ ______ | | / | / /___ / ____/ 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 | |
![]() |
|
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:31 AM Post #6 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
______________________________________________________________ | _ __ ______ | | / | / /___ / ____/ | | / |/ / __ \/ /___ 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 | |
![]() |
|
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:43 AM Post #7 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
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 "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 | |
![]() |
|
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:44 AM Post #8 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
. ONE . TWO . THREE . FOUR . 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 . . THREE . . FOUR . . FIVE . . SIX . . SEVEN . . EIGHT . . NINE . . . 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 "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 | |
![]() |
|
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:45 AM Post #9 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
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... . . . . . IT DROPS ONCE!... . . . . . IT DROPS TWICE!... . . . . . 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... . . . . . GERMAN SUPLEX!!! . . . . . . . ONE . . . . . TWO . . . . . 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... . . . . . . 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... . . . IT DROPS ONCE... . . . . . IT DROPS A SECOND TIME... . . . . . . IT DROPS A THIRD TIME?... . . . . . . . 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... . . . . . ONE . . . . . . . TWO . . . . . . . . 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... . . . ONE . . . TWO . . . 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... . . . ONE . . . TWO . . . 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... . . . ONE . . . TWO . . . 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... . . . ONE . . . TWO . . . 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... . . . ONE . . . . TWO . . . . 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... . . . . . ONE . . . . . TWO . . . . . 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 | |
![]() |
|
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:46 AM Post #10 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
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 | |
![]() |
|
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:47 AM Post #11 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
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 | |
![]() |
|
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:48 AM Post #12 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
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. |
|
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 | |
![]() |
|
| blibblab | Apr 11 2008, 12:48 AM Post #13 |
|
Administrator
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
[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 | |
![]() |
|
| « Previous Topic · Night of Glory · Next Topic » |




![]](http://z5.ifrm.com/static/1/pip_r.png)



3:18 AM Jul 11