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[UWF/MBC] Rampage Bloody Rampage Hour Two; We kept the promos under 9 hours!
Topic Started: Nov 17 2010, 11:55 AM (307 Views)
Overly_Critical_Jue
Member Avatar
Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
[We cut backstage where we find MBC interview Tawni Northern (yes, she
was able to get away from the Insanity Society to do her other job)
standing next to the Smash, Bash, Crucify champion Jerry "Pure Power"
Titus, who is already dressed in his wrestling attire and wears his title
belt around his waist.]

TN: Jerry, tonight you will face Gabriel Whitecross in the latest of the
World Series matches... what are your thoughts about facing one of the
top legends in wrestling?

JT: Tawni, if you remember, a few weeks ago, I had the privilege to team
with Whitecross in a tag match... unfortunately, that match broke down
for many reasons, and then Gabriel and I had to deal with the fact Gamma
Ray had made off with our title belts. It's too bad everything fell apart
in that match because I think we were working quite well together and may
have taken that victory.

But tonight, he's not my partner, but my opponent. I know I've got my
work cut out for myself, as while he may have a few more years on me as
far as age goes... that also means he has a few more years on me as far
as experience goes. So I'll have to be at my best tonight if I want to
secure the win.

TN: Do you see this as a good way to prepare for your future MBC World
title shot, whenever that may come to pass?

JT: I see this match as simply a good way to prepare for anything that is
to come in the future. I know Gabriel has seen plenty in the many years
he's spent in this sport and that he'll be well prepared. I just need to
show that I am well prepared for what he will bring to the ring and that
I've learned from my past matches with another veteran, Stan Crawford.

TN: Do you see any similarities between Whitecross and Crawford?

JT: While the two of them to bring different styles to the ring, I know
both of them are in great condition and can go the distance. Like
Crawford, Whitecross has taken a lot of punishment in all the matches
he's had, but the fact he still remains a top wrestler after all these
years is a testament to that conditioning he has. And then there's the
obvious similarity between them... both have seen it all in their years
in wrestling and it will take everything I have to pull out a win
tonight.

TN: And what about what went down with the MBC World title... now Crimson
is the champion. Your thoughts about that?

JT: From all the talks I've had with my aunt and with Kyle Lee, I should
have figured Crimson would pull something like that... so I can't say I'm
surprised by it. That being said, I know Erik Grimsson wants a shot at
Crimson, and because I have a title to defend, I'm content to wait for my
turn.

But believe me... I will get my turn and Crimson will find out exactly
just how much I've learned... and how difficult it's going to be to deal
with me.

Tonight, though, I've got my focus on Gabriel Whitecross... because
that's where it needs to be. Not only do I need to show I'm ready for a
veteran like him... I need to again prove I have what it takes to be the
best in the business.

TN: Thank you for your time, Jerry.

[Fade out.]

________ __ __ ____
| ___ \ ______ | \ / || _ \ ______ _____ _____
\ \__| \ / ___ || \/ || | \ \ / ___ | / ___ \ | ___|
\ __ // /___| || |\ /| || |_/ // /___| | / / /_/ | |_
\ \ \ \ \ ___ || | \/ |_|| __/ \ ___ || | ___ | _|
\_\ \ \ \ \ | ||_| | | \ \ | || | |_ || |_______
\_\ \_\ |_| |_| \_\ |_| \ \___| ||_________\
______ \_____/
| _ | __ ____ ____ _____ _ _
| |/ / / / / _ \ / _ \\ \ / \ / \
| _ \ / / / / / // / / // /\ \\ \/ /
| |/ // /___/ /_/ // /_/ // /_/ / \ /
|____//_____/\____/ \____//______/ | |
________ __ __ ____ | /
| ___ \ ______ | \ / || _ \ ______ |/____ _____
\ \__| \ / ___ || \/ || | \ \ / ___ | / ___ \ | ___|
\ __ // /___| || |\ /| || |_/ // /___| | / / /_/ | |_
\ \ \ \ \ ___ || | \/ |_|| __/ \ ___ || | ___ | _|
\_\ \ \ \ \ | ||_| | | \ \ | || | |_ || |_______
\_\ \_\ |_| |_| \_\ |_| \ \___| ||_________\
\_____/ 08-21-10
Hour Two
Time Warner Cable Arena in Charlotte, NC


[Fade through the graphics back into the arena, as the voices of the holy
trio cut in over wide shots of the crowd.]

DR: Welcome back fans, we're just halfway done here in Charlotte but it's
already turning into a huge night. Coming up, Edwin Lopez takes on Luke
Kinsey in the former world champion's official return to the ring. The
Trailer Park Assassins are reunited as well, and they'll be facing the
Guard's leader Gamma Ray as well as his brand new lieutenant Jonas
"Dutch" Elm in tag team action. And in the main event, match number
three of the World Series between UWF and MBC as NA Champion Gabriel
Whitecross faces SBC Champion Jerry Titus!

AM: This'll go a long way towards crowning a winner in the World Series,
we're all tied up at one win each.

SS: Why delay the inevitable? Just give us the win, it's not like they
can match up with us anyways.

AM: Don't tell me, you've put money on this haven't you?

SS: I'll never tell, at least until Slush's check clears.

[We fade into a shot backstage, where we see the monstrous Edwin Lopez
seated in his dressing room, tying his boots. Just then, a person enters
the room, catching Edwin's attention. He looks up with a mild look of
surprise on his face, before smiling.]

EL: Well if it isn't my old pal, Luke Kinsey.

[Edwin stands up, extending to his full height of near seven feet and
towers over the smaller Kinsey. He crosses his arms over his chest and
stares down at the former UWF world champion.]

EL: You do remember we have a match tonight, right? You're not lost, are
you?

[Luke shakes his head at the big man.]

LK: Look, I'm just here to talk. I'd have a heart-to-heart with Juan, but
he's not exactly in the mood to listen these days.

EL: If you're trying to sway me to your side, that's just not going to
happen. I'm not sure if you noticed, but I was the guy that had Alex
Epstein in a chokehold, shouting...

"DO IT!!!! DOOOOOO IIIIITTTTT!!!!!"

...when Juan broke that bastard's leg.

[Edwin grins.]

EL: Call it a hunch, but I'm fairly certain I'm not going to see things
from your point of view.

LK: You're not an idiot, Edwin. I know you have to realize this isn't the
way things should be.

[Edwin cuts Luke off.]

EL: Spare me the lecture on how crippling a useless parasite like Alex
Epstein irreversibly changed the mental well-being of a man I've known
since I was 4 years old, Kinsey...much less me. And while you're at it,
try not to tell me why you're the one obligated to fix everyone's
problems because the universe revolves around you.

[Luke tries to rebutt, but Edwin leans in close and gets to the heart of
the matter.]

EL: The fact is, Luke...you should never have come back.

LK: I had to come back...things were getting out of hand.

EL: So your girl got hit and you felt compelled to defend her honor. I
can respect that. But lets face it...it's not like she had a fireball
thrown in her face or anything.

[A somewhat guilty look appears on Kinsey's face.]

EL: Yeah...we all still remember that, Luke.

Anna says "Hi", by the way.

[Luke winces a bit.]

EL: But lets forget about that for now. Lets "assume" for a minute that
Juan really does need "help." For one thing...you should _never_ tell a
man that you want to redeem that your friendship means nothing to you and
that you're going to kill him.

LK: Hey...it was in the heat of the moment. S[bleep!] happens.

[Edwin smirks.]

EL: Right. Another thing...if you're trying to pull him away from falling
into a neverending cycle of unfathomable rage and vengeance...

[He pauses and shakes his head sadly.]

EL: ...breaking into his home and leaving the impression that you're
about to brutally assault his family isn't the way to go.

LK: I figured he needed a reality check...but I never realized just how
far gone he is. He needs help.

[Edwin considers this for a moment.]

EL: Maybe he does...

...but it sure as hell isn't coming from you.

[Luke gets an annoyed look on his face.]

LK: If not me, then who?

[He points an accusing finger at Edwin.]

LK: You follow him like a dog and pat him on the back whenever he acts
like a jackass. You and Gavin...hell, even Tommy...you're all nothing but
enablers. You can stand here acting like you know everything, but you're
not doing s[bleep!] for him.

EL: I'm acting like a friend...which is a hell lot more than I can say
for you.

[Edwin's eyes narrow their gaze on his long-time "friend."]

EL: Don't you understand, Luke? This is a man that spent a year of his
life focused on nothing more than avenging _you._ He broke a man's leg
without remorse, he beat a "cancer" patient unconscious, he almost gave
your wife brain damage and he threw away all sense of decency just to
right a wrong. He already accepted the fact he was going to become a
horrible monster as long as he accomplished his goal. It was a burden he
was more than willing to carry...

...but then a funny thing happened.

[Lopez leans in close with a smirk.]

EL: He was completely validated.

[Luke doesn't say a word, trying to see where Edwin's going with this.]

EL: Just about nobody sheds a tear for Epstein. Trey DaMann turns out to
be a fraud that _deserved_ every single beating he got. Dozens upon
dozens of female wrestlers _THANK_ Juan for knocking Brianna out. And
just when he thought he threw a year of his career away...

[A chuckle, because even Edwin isn't quite sure how Juan pulled this
off.]

EL: ...they name him "Wrestler of the Year!"

[Edwin holds out his hands, as if to say "Ta-da!"]

EL: All ever he hears now is how wonderful and awesome and great he
is...but suddenly here *you* are to tell him that everyone's got it all
wrong. You're the one thing standing between him and peace of mind.
You're the inconvienent truth telling him that everything he has is a
lie.

Is it any wonder why you're not getting through to him?

[Luke lowers his head, deep in thought.]

EL: You want him to open his eyes? You want him to see your version of
the "truth?" You want Juan Vasquez to admit he's been wrong all along?

There's only one way to do that, Kinsey...and quite frankly, I don't
think you have what it takes to do it.

LK: And what's that?

EL: Beat him.

LK: That's it?

[Edwin shakes his head.]

EL: No, Luke..._beat_ him.

Utterly.

Completely.

Into a bloody pulp.

LK: ...Really? _That's_ your solution?

[Edwin wags his finger "No."]

EL: Not that simple, Kinsey.

Until his spirit's been broken beyond repair.

Until you've stripped away his pride and ego and taken everything he
holds near and dear to his heart.

Until he has nothing left _but_ a cold, dark reality.

_Beat him._

[The look on Luke's face is one of outrage, confusion and disbelief.]

LK: You've got to be kidding me. That's absolutely retarded! I'm trying
to help him! What the hell would doing that prove!?

EL: That you were right.

[Edwin sighs.]

EL: But like I said, I don't think you have what it takes to do it.

[He brushes past Luke, stopping at the doorway.]

EL: I'll see you in the ring... "friend."

[Fade out.]

AM: This situation really makes me uncomfortable. What Juan and Luke are
doing to each other is rooted in some deep psychological torment. You
can't call Kinsey an angel, and I really hate to agree with anything
Lopez has to say but there may be some shreds of truth in there.

SS: Come to the dark side, Amy. Have a mint julip.

AM: Seriously. The best scenario I think we can hope for is they somehow
destroy each other. I'll admit, Kinsey seems to have turned over a new
leaf since he came back, but Juan's original reasons for what he's done
were kind of admirable.

DR: They were?

AM: And then he broke a man's leg. He's still a monster.

[We return to the dark underbelly of the arena, so to speak. The
'basement' of this building is like a cross between a boiler room
and a storage area. These places tend to be abandoned during events,
seeing use only during maintenance periods. That tends to make them
ideal for those who seek solitude. It is dark, quiet, and secluded.
It is not a good place to need help, as Serge Annis knows all too
well.

The "Epitome Of Evil" still dangles from the ceiling, unable to reach
the knots of the thick rope securely fastened around his ankle.]

SA: Great...

[The frustration of being caught is evident in Annis' reddened face.
His struggles are interrupted by a voice... a familiar deep voice,
with a Samoan accent.]

Tumaffi: So, man who needs no one, how goes your battle against gravity?

[Annis' eyes dart around the room, as a sneer looms on his face.]

SA: I should have known you were hiding somewhere Malahu... The stench
gives you away.

[The shadows seem to take shape, as the massive form of the Samoan
Beast slowly transitions from the background to the foreground. His
black silk robe and mane of black hair provides him with a very
difficult-to-see profile in the dark, so long as he remains still. He
is no longer remaining still.]

SA: I've got to know... How long were you waiting?

Tumaffi: Tumaffi has waited there since early this morning, knowing
well my prey's predilection to seek the unused sections of the arena
for his bouts of meditation and sulking. Thought you had defeated the
great Tumaffi so easily? You know not your enemy at all, Serge Annis.

SA: Easily? There was nothing easy about it Malahu. Do you know how
hard it was to hold back...

[Despite hanging upside down and being in a defenceless state, the
Epitome of Evil may not be in a position to poke fun at his aggressor...
but he does it anyway.]

SA: To show restraint whilst destroying the all mighty Tumaffi was one
of the toughest things I've ever had to do. Hell, I'm surprised you
even showed up for work on Throwdown. Granted, a hallow, empty shell
of a once proud man... but you phoned it in because you are incapable of
any better, thanks to me.

Tumaffi: BAH. Tumaffi does battle when battle calls, regardless of
condition! But do you suppose Tumaffi to be some base beast; an
animal incapable of calculated effort? The true warrior possesses the
mind of the warrior, not merely the body! It is true that you did
Tumaffi grevious harm with your lazy weapon, Serge Annis. Though
Tumaffi would not relent, and refused to display the pain and injury
as befits a true warrior, a time of refreshing was required to return
to fighting form. Therefore, our meeting this day has two purposes.

SA: You know what Malahu? Lay off the speech. It's convenient enough
that you have a camera here to document it, so just get on with it
will you? Do your worst, I promise you, you will not break me... But
please. Try...

Tumaffi: Far be it! Far be it from Tumaffi to rob myself of the glory
by defeating an incapacitated foe! The trap you are in is inescapable
by a person without tools. You have only one tool on your person,
Serge Annis. Tumaffi wonders why you have not used it.

SA: I don't know what you're talking about. My zippo is on the floor
over there... The only thing on me is my phone.

Tumaffi: That is the very tool of which I spoke.

[Tumaffi steps behind Serge as pulls The Epitome's cellular from it's
case attached to Serge's belt. He puts it in Annis' hand.]

Tumaffi: Surely you could make one simple call. Even Whitecross
would still aid you, out of compassion if nothing else.

[As he speaks, Tumaffi is pulling down some wooden pallets from a nearby
stack.]

SA: Call Whitecross? I don't need his help. You are my fight, and my
fight alone. I don't need anyone's help to dispose of you.

Tumaffi: Then your options seem limited. Nonetheless, Tumaffi is
nothing if not magnanimous. You are simply unmotivated to seek out
assistance. Tumaffi recalls that, not so long ago, you chose a
powerful motivational force to move me to action...

[With a big stomp, Tumaffi crushes two wooden pallets... those are
generally designed for evenly distributed loads, and are easily broken
by even normal-sized people, let alone a 400-plus pound behemoth.
Sliding the pile of wood under Annis' hung body, Tumaffi pulls out
from a pocket some fabric that we have seen before: the half-burned
remains of his family's 'ie toga.]

Tumaffi: ...fire.

[His eyes wide with understanding, Serge makes another desperate
effort to free himself, but cannot reach the knots. Tumaffi reaches
down and picks up Serge's famed Zippo lighter to relight his 'ie toga,
and tosses it into the pile of wood.]

Tumaffi: It will take some time for the flame to consume that wood. If
you call now, you can get help before it rises enough to inflict any
damage.

Or... you can use this very dull knife that Tumaffi will give you. It
will release you, in time. You will not be free in time to avoid
burns, and besides that you will fall into the fire, and require
medical attention.

Or... you can wait for maintenance to come here post-show to store the
seating. Tumaffi has paid them well to not come here until then. By
that time, the medical term that will best sum your condition will be
"broiled".

[Tumaffi leans over so that he can stare his nemesis in the eye.]

Tumaffi: The choice is yours, Serge Annis, man who needs no one. You
may suffer as Tumaffi suffered, leaving us on even ground. Or you may
free yourself to stay ahead in our 'game'... and forever face the onus
of having begged for help.

Here is your knife. Tumaffi will leave you to your decision; though I
suspect I know it already.

[The giant Samoan presses what looks like a cheap kitchen knife in
Serge's hand, and steps back before he decides to use it on HIM...
Serge's immediate reaction seems to be to do just that. Chuckling
darkly, Tumaffi heads offscreen. A moment later, he calls back with
one more statement.]

Tumaffi: Oh, and the OTHER purpose of our meeting, Serge Annis. It is
to inform you that our battle... the battle you cancelled earlier this
evening? Our battle is most definitely on.

[As the lights turn out, the sound of a door slamming indicates
Tumaffi's exit. Annis is left alone in the darkness, minus for the
ever growing fiery red glow as the wooden pallets burn mere feet under
him. Annis stares at the knife that Tumaffi provided him, and then he
glances to his phone. His moment of decision making is cut short as he
notices a few sparks floating in his face.

And with that, knowing that for once in his life he is truly helpless,
Annis' cold baby blue eyes burn over with rage. Again, he glances to
the two objects in his hands, seriously weighing the consequences of
either cutting the rope or making that call. The anger boils over as
he bellows out a Tumaffi'like cry of rage.]

SA: AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHH!

[Cut to the arena.]

AM: Boy, Serge has really stepped in it now.

SS: Someone get help! Save him!

DR: Tumaffi has come back at the Epitome of Evil tonight in their battle
of mind games, if you'll pardon the pun he really has Serge Annis where
he wants him.

SS: He'll never ask for help, you heard him before. A man like Serge
shouldn't have to ask!

AM: Usually in movies like this he's got seven or eight henchmen to cut
him down. Unfortunately, Gamma Ray's playing the role of the Riddler
here.

DR: Let's head back down to the ring.

_______ ________ _______ _______ ______ ______
| | | | | | ___|----------------------| | | __ \ |
| | | | | | ___| WRITER: | | __ « ---|
|_______|________|___| Mike Beeby |__|_|__|______/______|
Rampage Bloody Rampage Rampage Bloody Rampage

LUKE KINSEY vs EDWIN LOPEZ
----------------------------------------------------------------------

[The monster Lopez wasted no time heading to the ring as the crowd booed,
and sneered out at the audience as he stepped over the ropes. When "Run
This Town" hit the PA system the crowd rose to its feet and exploded into
cheers!]

DR: Edwin Lopez is pacing the ring with anticipation as we await the
entrance of Luke Kinsey.

SS: Didn't you hear him a few seconds ago? They're friends, and they're
both looking out for Juan's well being.

AM: Never trust a man in a Hawaiian shirt.

[Kinsey emerged from the locker rooms to a huge pop as his music
continued to play, and though he used the same cocky stride we've come to
expect from him as he walked down the aisle by the time he was standing
face to face with Lopez, Luke Kinsey was all business.]

AM: That's quite a size disadvantage for Kinsey, I know Luke has more big
match experience but he's going to need every bit of it tonight.

DR: You can cut the tension with a knife between them- [SLAP!] OH MY!
Kinsey hauls off and smacks Edwin right across the face and here we go!

[Kinsey, having stood defiantly in the face of the near seven footer,
hauled off and delivered a wicked slap right across his opponent's face.
Lopez immediately grabbed him by the throat and went for a chokeslam, but
Kinsey was expecting it and escaped with a go-behind and an attack on the
back, several forearms and punches which didn't do much except make Edwin
that much angrier. He turned around and again caught Luke by the throat,
this time shoving him backwards into the ropes for a high back bodydrop
that stunned the former world champion and let Lopez take control with a
crushing knee into the side of the head and an iron claw across Luke's
skull.]

SS: Pretty hard to run and bounce around the ring when a guy like Lopez
has your skull in a vice. Probably not the smartest guy to have your
first match in almost two years against Luke.

DR: A cover from Lopez! One! Two! Shoulder up by Luke, but that head
vice is still applied. Kinsey now struggling to the ropes for the break,
Lopez takes him by the legs and flings back into the center of the ring
now. Huge kick to the face from Lopez!

SS: Goal!

[Kinsey rolled onto his stomach as Lopez continued to keep control of the
match here in the early-going, walking across his back several times with
all three hundred plus pounds leaving Kinsey gasping for air. Eventually
letting the Loose Cannon up and throwing him into the ropes, Luke
leapfrogged over to avoid another backdrop and threw a dropkick that
barely moved Edwin. Luke came off the ropes again, trying to gain a head
of steam and make more of an impression but a HUMONGOUS standing
shoulderblock sent Luke flying to the outside of the ring.]

DR: Perhaps a little ring rust, this match not going so well for Luke
Kinsey thus far.

AM: He's against a freakin' giant, cut the man some slack. His usual
ring style includes a lot of suplexes and high impact moves. Ring rust
or not, I don't see any way of him being able to use that against Edwin.

SS: Don't look now but here comes everyone's best friend out for a closer
look!

[The crowd began booing loudly for Juan Vasquez, who slowly sauntered out
from the locker rooms with a bemused expression on his face as his old
friend continued to be battered by the gigantic Lopez. Unaware of Juan's
presence, Kinsey tried to return to the ring but was blocked by Lopez.
Edwin smashed him with huge forearms across the chest that left him
dazed, hanging on the outside apron until a giant biel throw brought
Kinsey crashing back into the ring. Luke became trapped in the corner by
Lopez and a series of forearms set up for a running Yakuza kick, but the
ex-leader of the Illuminati dodged it at the very last moment and Edwin's
leg became tangled in the ropes. Kinsey immediately took the opportunity
to blast Lopez with an enzuigiri in the back of the head and then rolled
him up from behind: 1 -- 2 -- Kickout!]

DR: Finally some offense out of Luke Kinsey, he's got Lopez down and it
looks like he's intent on keeping him there! Standing senton splash!

SS: Standing Tommy Stephens-style senton, I think you mean.

[Kinsey finally kicked into high gear and unloading with everything he
had including a slingshot legdrop over the ropes, went for another pin
attempt and again saw Lopez kick out at two with force. Only now did
Luke spy Vasquez at ringside, and a bit of the old trademark smirk as
Kinsey set up and hit Edwin with a tilt-a-whirl knee into the face. He
wasn't able to keep Lopez from getting up entirely, but slowed him down
with a trademark fivearm shot across the back of the head. A tornado DDT
from the corner worked against the former world champ though as Edwin
countered mid-move with another huge biel toss. Kinsey though landed on
his feet, except when he turned around he was nearly beheaded with a
running forearm smash. Lopez returned to a power game, throwing Kinsey
around before depositing him out of the ring once more with a trademark
one-armed slam all the way to the cement. The crowd groaned in sympathy
as Kinsey mustered up the strength to rise again, and screamed in warning
when Vasquez tried to get too close.]

AM: Keep an eye on him Luke!

DR: Referee Junas giving Vasquez a warning not to get any closer, and as
you'd expect Juan's proclaiming his innocence. But Edwin's got Kinsey by
the head!

[Picking Kinsey up off the ground with his hands wrapped around his head,
Lopez attempted to bring his opponent back into the ring the hard way.
But Luke struggled to break free and caught Edwin with a neck snap off
the top rope, dizzying the big man. With that opening Kinsey quickly
headed to the top rope and brought Lopez crashing down with a somersault
plancha style move, hooking a leg for a near three count. Lopez escaped
the count and returned to his knees, but another huge kick stopped the
momentum. Luke tried to deliver a shining wizard for the knockout blow,
but Edwin was able to block it with his arm and shot to his feet,
grabbing Kinsey again by the throat. Another struggle ensued as Lopez
looked to squash Luke, while the Syracuse native slipped out of his hold
one more time. At which point Juan began to get restless on the outside
of the ring, and made himself known.]

AM: Juan's trying to get involved, get him down from there!

[Vasquez climbed up onto the apron and began to yell at the official, but
before he could cause a distraction Luke ducked a running clothesline
from Edwin and sent him careening right into Juan! The resulting
collision sent the interloper crashing to the ground, while Edwin turned
around into a kick to the gut and a double underhook...]

DR: A MASSIVE CHERRY POP DROP FROM LUKE KINSEY!

SS: Holy hell what a lift!

DR: ONE! TWO! THREE!

["Run This Town" explodes over the PA system, and the look on the face of
Juan Vasquez tells that he's about to explode himself. The audience
starts to cheer immediately however.]

DH: Here is your winner...

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUKE KIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNSEEEEEEEEEEEEY!

AM: Chalk one up for Luke Kinsey! The comeback starts off successfully!

[Kinsey rolls off of Edwin and after staggering to his feet, mounts the
turnbuckles arms raised in the air. As Edwin Lopez slowly begins to come
around, a clearly angry Juan Vasquez rolls into the ring and Kinsey exits
quietly. Still a bit groggy, Lopez gets back to his feet, holding his
head. However, Vasquez is there to shove him, audibly shouting "What the
hell was that!?"]

DR: What's going on here?

AM: I don't think Vasquez is happy about what just happened.

SS: Gee, ya think? The only way it could have been worse for him was if
someone kicked him in the groin while all that happened!

[Not wanting to get into it with his friend, Lopez holds his hands up
into the air and tries to walk away. However, he is quickly spun around
by an incensed Vasquez, who continues to verbally berate him. Edwin tries
to plead his case, but then, without warning...]





"SMMMMAAAAAACCCCK!"





[...Juan slaps him! Shocked pop!]

SS: Woah woah woah! Where the hell did that come from!?

DR: Juan Vasquez is clearly upset about the outcome of the match and he
just...uh oh.

["Uh oh" indeed, as Juan quickly realizes what he's done as a furious
Edwin Lopez slowly turns a narrowed gaze towards him. As the near seven-
footer bears down on him, Vasquez begins to back away, trying to
apologize...


HUGE POP!


...but suddenly finds Lopez's massive hand clutched around his throat!]

AM: Yes! Do it! Do it! Chokeslam him straight to hell!

DR: AMY!

AM: What?

[Vasquez struggles to break free from Lopez's vise-like grip, but the
effort is useless. But even with the crowd demanding blood, a remorseful
look suddenly appears on Lopez's face as he shakes his head and
forcefully shoves Vasquez down onto the canvas. Edwin stares down at his
former(?) friend with a disappointed look on his face and shakes his head
one last time, before exiting the ring, leaving a shocked Juan Vasquez
behind.]

DR: I'm not certain what just happened there, but it certainly looks like
the end of the partnership between Juan Vasquez and Edwin Lopez!

AM: Even though he didn't have the heart to hurt him, I'm just glad Lopez
finally came to his senses and saw Vasquez for the scumbag that he is.

SS: You know... for someone who values friendship so highly, Vasquez sure
is lousy at keeping any friends.

[Vasquez finally leaves the ring, the crowd mostly silent for him
although a few still boo him loudly. For Juan, he seems to be in his own
world again as he stares down at his feet on his return walk to the
back.]

AM: There goes a man with a head full of bad wiring.

DR: I'm not certain of just how much his sanity is intact, but the
upcoming match between he and Kinsey could be what pushes him over the
edge entirely.

[The cameras turn to the Miss Morality Pageant set assembled below the
MegaTron. Austere Chastity Davenport takes to the stage to the
spontaneous applause brought about by the frantically blinking "APPLAUSE"
sign. After walking up the aisle, Slush joins her. He waves to the crowd
and the applause subsides.]

CD: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the crowning ceremony of _your_
first ever Miss Morality!

[More disingenuous clapping.]

Slush: Sponsored by the upstanding Mothers Opposing Pornography!

CD: Visit the website, everyone! Thanks to the inter web, it's easy!

[She ceremoniously points to the MegaTron, and on the giant screen fades
in a short commercial of MOP's website. On screen appears a browser's
address bar typing in MOP's address... leading to a prototypical late
90's "loading bar" and the sound of a dial-up modem. After a moment, the
underwhelming home page surfaces.]

CD: Visit the website to safely make your donations!

[A "Donate" button is displayed. Under the "donor of the month" caption,
a photograph of William Houlder appears.]

CD: Or find all sort of fun activities. Find ready-to-print signs you can
bring to UWF-MBC shows...

[The commercial montage cuts to a "Ban the atomic drop!" slogan.]

CD: ... Or add your name to the thousands that have already signed the
"Expropriate the Women's North American Title from Summer Blake"
petition!

[The image shows a clunky animation of Summer Blake swinging around a
stripper's pole amidst the eternally burning flames of Hell.]

CD: We have animated G. I. F's!! Yes! It's just a click away on the inter
web!

[Mercifully, the lame website commercial comes to an end.]

Slush: Wow! I didn't know MOP was this hip!

CD: Yes, Slush! MOP is all the rage! After all... frigid has always been
cool!

Slush: Extremely cool.

CD: Just like this competition!

Slush: It's been an exciting contest, but now, the time has come to crown
Miss Morality!

CD: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back to the stage your three
finalists!!

[Georgia Church, Ayako Fujiwara, and Eveline Eriksen parade back onto the
set to wild applause. Genuine, this time. The fans cheering solely for
Ayako, but shrewd TV production changes that perception. Cut to the
cheering fans, cut to Georgia Church, then pan to Eveline, then cut back
to the cheering masses.]

Slush: What a competition, and what awesome competitors, Chastity!

CD: Well... two of them were awesome.

Slush: That's more than seventy-five percent!

CD: Ladies... you all did great. Well, almost all of you did great. As
Ayako taught us, what matters is participation.

[Disgruntled fans boo.]

Slush: Because when girls like Ayako participate, she makes the other
girls look even better!

[Louder boos.]

CD: Anyways... you can leave now, Ayako. There's no chance in hell you
could ever win a competition like this.

[Ayako gives Chastity a stony gaze, turns, and leaves. As Miyuki's dancer
walks away, Ms Davenport turns back to rub salt in the wound with her
cloying, honeyed voice.]

CD: But... you participated, sweety. You participated.

[Oh, come on, now! Ayako totally owned this thing! What did she have to
do, add the kazoo to her piano and violin duet?

In a sign that the karma gods might exist, a booing fan bonks Chastity on
the head with his empty drink cup!

She staggers, then acts like no projectile ever struck her, ever,
especially not two seconds ago.]

Slush: Ayako sort of reminds me of an Asian kid I knew. Her parents were
tyrants and she was forced to practice music non-stop.

CD: Isn't that some kind of stereotype?

Slush: I don't think so. No matter how many hours she practiced, she
still couldn't carry a tune on her triangle.

Tinkle: MEEP!

CD: On to the foremost question in everyone's heart; which of these two
extraordinary women will be crowned Miss Morality 2010?

[No one is wondering, this thing is blatantly fixed.]

Slush: Chastity, the suspense is killing me!

[There is no suspense. At all.]

CD: These two women are such wonderful role-models for proper little
girls world-wide!

[Seriously, if Ayako is eliminated, this thing is clearly fixed.]

Slush: The winner could be either one of them!

[Who are they kidding? Isn't William Houlder "donor of the month?"]

Slush: Georgia, or Eveline... both are so deserving!

[Even as Chastity Davenport reaches for a sealed envelope, everyone in
the universe already knows what name is written inside. It's Eveline's.]

CD: And the very first Miss Morality is...

[Eveline. Everyone knows it's Eveline.]

CD: ... EVELINE ERIKSEN!! WOOOO!!!

[See? See? Fixed! Fixed!!!

Somehow, Eveline is shocked. Like she was the one person in the world
that wasn't expecting this outcome. Stunned... then she looks
suspiciously looks around... Is this for real? Is this really happening?
Is Kanye West nearby?

And then, she sees the golden tiara cradled in Chastity Davenport's hands
and her water-filled eyes grow large. It's made of gold! Beautiful,
beautiful gold! Goldener than bronze or silver, it's the goldenest crown
you could find! Like a goldeny title belt you wear on your head! It's
just like sex, but it's made of goldenicious gold. Golden gold! More
coveted than knowledge and love combined, it's gold! Precious,
scintillating GOLD!!!

Eveline absentmindedly hugs Georgia Church, then greedily reaches for the
gold tiara. Even in her hands, it's still made of dazzling gold, and on
closer inspection, it seems to be gilded with even _more_ gold!

She bites her lip, ceremoniously places the tiara on her aurulent hair,
then minces towards the microphone stand, a single tear streaking down
her flawless cheek.]

EE: Oh... Oh... What you did to me... You rocked my life... you really
rocked my life!

[Her voice is shaking because of the emotion... which is weird because
the Viking Vixen's voice has only ever trembled with either anger or
indignation...]

EE: I... I... I haven't had an orthodox career, and I've wanted more than
anything to have your admiration... to be recognized as the very, very
best... to win gold.

[This new tremolo in her voice is strange, but the way the aftershocks
quake down her cleavage... that's just beautiful. Mesmerizing and
beautiful.]

EE: At first... there were those who crowned me Woman Wrestler of the
year but... who voted for that thing, exactly? Were there Swedes
involved? What kind of worthless award doesn't hand out a trophy? Yes...
The first time I didn't feel it, but this time I feel it. I feel the
gold!

[Another tear glides down her beatific face.]

EE: And... I can't deny the fact that you like me, right now, you like
me. You really like me!

[Who knows how anyone can get so emotional over an obviously fixed,
meaningless award, but Eveline Eriksen is bawling. She straightens her
white dress, gently places a hand on her breast, looks up and...

...

POP!

POP!!

UNCENSORED POP ON POP ACTION~!

SHE GETS DRENCHED IN BROWN SLOP!!!

It came from above, and now, the Nordic Narcissist is covered in thick
gravy from head to toe! There's a big round chunk impaled on her tiara,
and another lodged between her sweater kittens!]

EE: EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!

[The goo covered Eveline falls to her knees, spraying more gravy all
around her.

Undeterred, Slush drags a finger in the thick substance and brings it to
his mouth. He sucks on his finger, smacks his lips, savors the
flavors...]

Slush: ... Swedish meatballs?

[SWEDISH MEATBALLS???]

EE: NEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIII!!!

[The Viking Vixen takes to Swedish meatballs the way the Wicked Witch of
the West takes to water. Who could do such a thing??

The cameras pan up, and over the MegaTron stands Summer Blake, holding a
large bucket in her hands. And the Women's North American Champion is
smiling! SMILING!!

AIE!! You cursed brat! Look what you done! She's melting! She's melting!
Oh, what a world, what a world! Who could have thought a good little
whore like Summer could destroy Eveline's beautiful wickedness?]

EE: [Deep breath] NEEEEEEEEEEIIIIiiiiiiii!

[The fans, at least, can't think of anything more awesome than Eveline
Eriksen all covered in sauce. A lot of them have long been dreaming of
covering Eveline with the sauce with their meat and balls... and this is
as close as they're ever going to get.

It's all thanks to Summer Blake, and the champ raises her arms again,
which draws even bigger cheers from the crowd!

William Houlder and Lilly Fawne-Dorsey rush to the stage to cover
Eveline's Swedish-flavored shame with a blanket, leading her away from
the laughing fans. Angry, Chastity Davenport screams into her
microphone.]

CD: STOP LAUGHING! YOU PEOPLE STOP LAUGHING!

Slush: This is just like the time my banana hammock got sucked into the
golf ball cleaning machine!

CD: She'll make you rue this day, Summer Blake! She'll make you rue this
day!

[Summer chuckles, and shakes her upturned bucket, splashing Chastity's
face with leftover meatballs.]

CD: AAARGH!! Cut! Cut!! NOW! Cut to something else right now!! Cut to
som-
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
[Indeed we quickly cut to the back of the arena, somewhere in the
mezzanine actually, where we see the backside of a body hunched over, on
one knee. The large frame is shirtless, and as the camera approaches, the
red charred flesh on his backside becomes all the more gruesome.]

AM: Oh my...

[The burned pieces of flesh are evident, as we see the second degree
burns across the broad shoulders and backside of The Epitome of Evil,
Serge Annis.]

SS: He.. he cut himself down?

AM: He is too proud to ask anyone for help, and now he's suffering for
it.

SS: But... but he could have called me...

AM: I'm surprised you didn't abandon your post to go find him.

[The pain is obviously wreaking havoc on the nerve system of The
Epitome, as Serge rises to his feet, stumbling a few feet forward
before crumbling back down to his knee.]

DR: This is gruesome. He obviously needs medical attention, but damned
if he lets anyone near him.

[Annis clenches his teeth as he attempts to rise again.]

SA: ...Tu... Tumafffffiii....

[He stammers forward a bit more, this time reaching out to the glass
windows to his side that overlook the outside of the Time Warner Cable
Arena.]

AM: Where does he think he's going?

SS: He's going to find Tumaffi Red, isn't that obvious?

DR: He's in no shape to be going anywhere Sam.

SS: Don't tell me that, tell him!

[His body quivers, but the face of the Epitome of Evil remains stoic
and barren of emotion. Instead he stares forward, concentrating on
moving and not the searing pain he is in.]

AM: Well this is just sad. To think that- LOOK OUT!!!

[The camera is just able to get out of the way in the knick of time as
Annis' nemesis, Tumaffi lunges after Serge. Annis tries to spring to
his feet, but it's pretty well pointless as Tumaffi steamrolls Annis
up and into the large glass window frame.]

SA: AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

[Tumaffi relents and takes a few steps back. Annis crumbles to the
floor, screaming in pain. But instead of lying still, he tries to get
back up, but can't find the ability to get up off of his knees.
Tumaffi stands over his prey, waiting...]

TUMAFFI: Did your mother never tell you? WHEN YOU PLAY WITH FIRE, SERGE
ANNIS, IT IS YOU THAT SHALL GET BURNED!

[Tumaffi charges again, Annis attempts to get up to fend off hiss
attacker, but when four hundred pounds of angry Samoan monster comes
full charge at you, there is little one can do. Tumaffi collides with
a vicious thud as he drives his shoulder into Annis' midsection,
lifting the Hall of Famer up into the air, and slamming him back into
that large pane of glass.

You know, the one that breaks.


________________________CCCRRRAAAASSSSSHHHHHH________________________!


The window shatters as the weight and momentum of both men collide
into it. Tumaffi is stopped by the guard rail. However due to the
height that he got on Annis, he has deposited his enemy through the
window and into the garden bed outside.]

DR: OH MY GOD!!!! HE WENT THROUGH THE WINDOW!

AM: Good thing they weren't upstairs!

[The camera squeezes past Tumaffi and searches for Annis. The body of
Serge Annis lays crumbled amongst a bed of bushes and flowers,
shattered glass fragments litter the ground below. Annis' arms are
raised in the air as he winces from the extreme pain. He clenches his
fists, but makes no other movement. Building security is quickly on
scene, trying to grab at Tumaffi to relent his attack. The damage
having been done, Tumaffi offers no struggle. He instead leans over
the guard rail though and leaves his victim with these parting words.]

TUMAFFI: Tumaffi will finish this at the destined time and place!
Epitome Of Evil... prepare yourself! You face no mere breakable man; you
face the _Epitome Of Destruction_!

[As more security arrives on scene, they wedge themselves between
Tumaffi and the handrail, slowly pushing him back. The camera turns
and leans over the railing as medical EMT's are quickly on scene,
climbing through the flowerbed to get to Annis. Cut back to ringside.]

DR: Epitome Of Destruction? I have to say... it fits. Both of them.

AM: Well, do you think Tumaffi's evened up the score?

DR: It's hard to feel sorry for Serge Annis, but can you imagine the
pain of being burned and then to go through a window? That match at
Heaven and Hell might not go on after all, because I can not believe
that anyone could come back from what we saw just now.

AM: Sam, thoughts?

SS: This is a dark, dark day. Get well soon Serge.

DR: My God, that was sick.

AM: Let's watch a replay!

DR: We will do nothing of the sort Amy! Kyle Lee is going to have to
deal with this situation, because this? This is too much.

AM: Kyle's got enough on his plate at the moment, I doubt he'll even hear
of the situation before the end of the show. At any rate, if Tumaffi and
Serge make it to Heaven and Hell it's going to be one hell of a war. On
the other hand, the odds they'll both make it to the show seem to get
less and less every week.

DR: That fact doesn't seem to faze either one of those monst... hold
on... I'm being told Kyle Lee has been spotted again. Do we have camera
feed?

AM: That's like asking if you like to breath. Or if Sam is an idiot.

SS: HEY!

[Again, the feed changes to the backstage area. Kyle Lee is marching with
purpose and yes, his tie, seemingly indestructible, is still in place.
His purpose is brought to a halt and Lee must come to a stop himself.

The camera pans back to reveal a line of ten Guardsmen blocking Lee's
path.]

Guard #1: You've gotten lucky so far Lee, but that stops here.

Guard #2: Boss Gamma wanted us to stop you and that's what we're here to
do.

Guard #1: I think after we take you down a peg or two, we're due for a
promotion.

[You would think a moment like this would give Kyle Lee pause. You would
think that a moment like this would put the fear of God into him. But
what does he do?

He smiles.]

Guard #1: What the Hell is so funny?

[One of the other Guardsmen turns to look behind them. He takes a moment
to process and taps the first Guard on the shoulder.]

Guard #1: What? I'm speechifying!

[The second Guard member motions for the head Guard to look behind him.
And he does.

And then the camera pans back...

...to show "The Shotgun" Stan Crawford, Clayton Ross, "The Big Nasty
Bastard" Mike Reznor, "The Master of Gimmicks" Max Benson, Jerry "Pure
Power" Titus, Ronan Benedict and other members of the MBC side of the
roster standing behind the wall of Guard.

There's a moment or two in this glorified Mexican standoff where neither
the Guard nor the MBC wrestlers want to back down.

But then...]

Guard #1: Screw it, this ain't worth it.

[The head Guardsman walks away with his hands in the air, leaving the
remaining armored individuals confused. But the confusion passes and they
split apart, allowing Lee to continue on his way. As he passes, Lee gives
a nod to his Bastards from the MBC.

Inglorious or not, they're his bastards.

Fade.]

SS: I really have come to hate those goons.

DR: Those 'goons' are showing a united front, which I have to admit is
something that the UWF roster hasn't done in quite some time. The Guard
has declared war time and time again, and I haven't seen a group of UWF
stars stand up like that.

SS: They're going after Lee, who cares? He's their bastard, not ours!

AM: That's the problem right there. He signs your paycheck too, Sam.

SS: And then I sign it over to the great state of Nevada. What's your
point?

AM: [sigh]

DR: Well with the Guard momentarily taken care of we've got Gamma Ray and
Jonas Elm about to head down to the ring for a match that's been a long
time coming with the Trailer Park Assassins.

SS: Great, here comes another shift change.

_______ ________ _______ _______ ______ ______
| | | | | | ___|----------------------| | | __ \ |
| | | | | | ___| WRITER: | | __ « ---|
|_______|________|___| Kyle Lee |__|_|__|______/______|
Rampage Bloody Rampage Rampage Bloody Rampage

GAMMA RAY and JONAS ELM vs THE TRAILER PARK ASSASSINS
----------------------------------------------------------------------

[The Tea Party's "Writings on the Wall" resounds and a pair of Guards
walk out under the MegaTron, escorting the duo of Gamma Ray and Jonas
"Dutch" Elm. They proceed to the ring under a sea of heartfelt boos, the
big Elm looking as surly as his mullet is curly, the Irradiated One's
mood looking as black as his superhero mask. But, of course, before
slithering into the ring, Gamma Ray has to grab a microphone on his way
in.

The menacing power of Jonas Elm towering behind him, the Emerald Egotist
disdainfully spits in Orbit's direction, forcing Cooter to restrain his
long-time partner. Gamma Ray smirks, and raises the microphone.]

GR: Ready to find out exactly why you joined the wrong team, you in-bred
little [BLEEP]tard? Just have a little patience, your beating's almost
here, Orbit. Just have a little patience. You grew up on food stamps, you
know what it's like to live without dignity, to wait for the ineluctable
humiliation.

[The Irradiates One chuckles sardonically, then his smirk disappears as
he turns to look up the aisle way.]

GR: LEE!!! You think your guerrilla tactics are impressing anyone, huh?
Jonas isn't impressed, are ya, Dutch?

[The big man frown and shakes his mullet from side to side.]

GR: He ain't impressed, and neither am I. Go ahead, use your yellow-
bellied tactics and make your way down here. Come on down and watch this
match from up close if you can. Get your cravenly [BLEEP] down to ring
side and watch this match. Come watch what happens to those who mess with
the Guard.

[The fans boo, but the Emerald Egotist shrugs them off disdainfully.]

GR: Come watch me, Lee, and behold the sight of wrestling perfection.
Watch me dismantle Orbit piece by piece... Observe with the anxious
fascination of the condemned criminal eying the carpenter erecting the
gallows, come!

I'd like you to come, but I know that you'll only end up cowering beneath
the skirts of your "Yes Women," just like you do every damn time.

[More loud boos.]

GR: Please. Please come down here and watch this rotund retard get
dropped on his misshapen melon! Come watch his sister get spanked!

[Orbit has heard enough and Cooter can no longer hold him back. He
charges at Gamma Ray who immediately takes flight and scurries out of the
ring. The panicked superhero keeps just out of reach as Orbit tries to
reach for him between the ropes. The massive size of Jonas Elm loomed
over Orbit and Dutch's mullet cast a long shadow, even reaching Cooter
outside the ring. But the Weasel, Arkansas native was no stranger to
trees or large men alike. He glanced over toward Gamma Ray, pondered and
did what most wanted to do.

He spit.]

Slush: Well, that's just disgusting.

DR: But a testament to just how Orbit feels about Gamma Ray.

Skullhead: I like Orbit and all... but he has the worst taste in role
models.

Slush: He once wanted to be my friend.

Skullhead: Exactly.

[Wasting no more time, Elm pressed forward trying to hammer Orbit across
the face. Orbit dodged all but one of Elm's mad strikes. The solid fist
rocked Orbit backwards, dazing the former MBC World Champion enough for
Elm to send his opponent running for the ropes. He rebounded, albeit with
a hobble and was leveled with a massive boot to the jaw. Elm lived up to
his mulleted monster moniker, working to systematically destroy the
Trailer Park Assassin. The Weapon of Mulleted Destruction was simply
devastating, a fact well applauded by Gamma Ray who watched gleefully
from his corner. But as it was stated earlier, Orbit was no stranger to
these sorts of situations. Call him a redneck genius. Call him a suplex
savant. But never count him out.]

Skullhead: Orbit with the comeback! He's firing away on all cylinders.

Slush: But how long can you run on moonshine before your engine blows
out?

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: Exactly! Five minutes, thirty seven seconds.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: Right, and a half.

DR: Unless you modify your engine to process the moonshine properly. All
you need to do is... why are you staring at me?

Skullhead: I never would have thought you to know the inner workings of a
moonshine engine.

DR: I was young once. I did things.

Slush: Somebody was naughty!

Skullhead: Orbit has taken Elm to the mat! He tags out to Cooter.

[Cooter picked up where his partner left off, keeping Elm off his feet
and his mullet constantly flowing in the breeze. Elm worked in his shots,
focusing in on Cooter's bum knee. As Elm once again started to press his
size advantage, Gamma Ray called for the tag. Elm's rage faded enough to
allow this and the Irradiated One entered the ring, immediately putting
his speed to work. Cooter wasn't overwhelmed by any means but Gamma's
focus on that knee would quickly take its toll. Orbit would scream for a
tag if you know, he wasn't an apparent mute. But his desire to be tagged
in was obvious. Cooter was quite aware. But making it over was a
problem.]

Skullhead: Cooter is doing well against Gamma Ray when Gamma Ray is
actually close enough to fight hand to hand.

DR: But Gamma Ray is staying at range, striking quickly and backing away.

Slush: That Gamma Ray, he's always thinking.

Skullhead: Gamma Ray moves in close again... Cooter with a European
uppercut!

Slush: Wouldn't you call that Arkansas Armpit Aeration?

DR: Cooter manages to follow that up with a fall away slam! Rather than
going for a pin, he's quickly going to his corner.

Skullhead: He knows how much Orbit wants a piece of Gamma Ray! And now
he's going to get it!

DR: Look at Gamma Ray scramble! He's bailing! And he just barely makes
the tag to Elm!

Skullhead: Gamma Ray wants no part of Orbit and listen to that crowd.
They're calling Gamma Ray out for dodging him.

Slush: He's not dodging. It's all strategy.

[Deaf to the roaring sounds of hate, Elm met Orbit head on. With Orbit
being silent, all you needed was a blind man and Slush would have a field
day. Orbit attempted another massive boot but Orbit dodged, maneuvering
behind the giant and taking him over with a quick belly to back suplex.
Orbit was quick to his feet, or at least quicker than Elm, driving Dutch
to the ring with a bulldog. Orbit made a cover but Elm amazingly shoved
the somewhat bulky Orbit off of him. Elm sprung to his feet and drove a
knee to Orbit's face. The Assassin was rocked but when Elm tried yet
another knee lift, Orbit used his redneck magic to apply a fisherman
suplex. There was yet another cover but Elm powered out. After a few more
suplexes for good measure, Orbit brought back in Cooter.]

Slush: You ever hear of redneck rage?

DR: Is that some sort of video game.

Slush: No.. well, I guess it could be. I don't know. But that's not the
point I'm trying to get to.

Skullhead: What _is_ the point you're trying to get to?

Slush: I.. forgot.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: You're no help.

[Cooter waylaid Elm with a barrage of punches, pinning the big man to the
corner. Punch after punch, boot after boot, Cooter drove his point home.
Cooter took Elm by the wrist and sent him running across the ring. In the
opposite turnbuckle, this process repeated. Soon Elm had enough, head
butting his opponent, not once but three times. Elm shoved Cooter away
with a mighty boot and wrapped his hands around Cooter's throat upon
coming from the corner. Harnessing amazing strength, possibly outsourced
from his mullet, Elm lifted Cooter into the air and brought him down with
a two handed chokeslam. Elm took hold of one of Cooter's leg and dragged
him over to his corner where Gamma Ray waited. A tag later, Gamma Ray
entered. And thus began Gamma Ray's systematic dismantling of Cooter's
knee.]

DR: Gamma Ray taking full advantage of this opportunity.

Skullhead: But only because it's not Orbit.

DR: Of course, he doesn't want to take what's coming to him.

Slush: A hero doesn't demand nor need glory.

DR: Yeah, I wasn't thinking of glory.

[If you thought Gamma Ray was taunting Orbit, you'd be right. The
Irradiated One's slow and methodical movements were meant to show that
Orbit had chosen wrong. Cooter was a fighter though. Despite several long
minutes of unending assault, the referee interjected himself but Elm
"accidentally" knocked the referee silly, leaving Gamma to do what he
would against the Trailer Park Assassin. But Cooter found a small
reprieve, one that involved Gamma taking exception to the fans chanting
"T-P-A!" The more Gamma Ray reacted, the more it egged the fans on. But
what really egged the fans on had nothing to do with Gamma Ray's anger.]

Skullhead: The fans are going crazy... because Kyle Lee just showed up
under the MegaTron!

DR: Listen to that crowd! They're going wild!

Slush: Somebody spiked the beer!

CROWD: TEAR HIM DOWN~! TEAR HIM DOWN~!

Skullhead: Gamma Ray is daring Lee to bring it on.

DR: Does he realize that most of the Guard has been taken out already?

Skullhead: Probably, but he does have that monster Elm by his side. Elm
sees Lee and I'm sure he's ready to break the President in half.

Slush: By the power of his mullet!

[Taking up Gamma Ray on his offer of "bring it on" Lee charged down the
ring, fueled by his own anger and slipped under the ring. Gamma Ray
scattered, allowing Jonas Elm to step in front of the charging UWF/MBC
President. Elm went for another chokeslam but Lee's tie was off and it
quickly found its way around Elm's neck. Lee wasn't playing around.
Neither was Gamma Ray. The Irradiated One slipped out of the ring, shoved
Debbie Henshall from her chair and slipped back inside. Stalking up
behind Lee, Gamma Ray readied his strike. But there were things he did
not see.

One, the referee was stirring.

Two, Cooter rolled away from the mess and tagged out to Orbit.

Three, the referee saw this exchange.

And four, Orbit silently (duh) moved behind Gamma Ray.]

Skullhead: Orbit yanks the chair out of Gamma Ray's clutches and tosses
it away!

DR: Gamma Ray spins around angry as hell.. but now he realizes that he's
facing Orbit!

Skullhead: And Gamma Ray spins back only to see that Elm is down and Lee
is standing right there!

Slush: A rock and a hard place! NOOOOO!

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: Pray for your hero Tinkle! Pray!

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: I SAID PRAY DAMNIT!

Skullhead: Gamma Ray is trying to escape but Orbit puts him into a full
nelson! DRAGON SUPLEX! There's the cover!

One...






Two...






Three!!!

DH: The winners of this match by pinfall... THE TRAILER PARK ASSASSINS!

Skullhead: Orbit gets a very satisfactory pinfall there and Gamma Ray is
hurting.

DR: Not a good thing to be with Lee and Orbit standing there!

Slush: Super villain team up!

Skullhead: Jonas Elm interjects and pulls Gamma Ray away before Lee and
Orbit can do anything! Listen to the crowd boo!

DR: Gamma Ray gets out of the ring as fast as he humanly...

Slush: Superhumanly.

DR: ...can.

[Seeing Gamma retreat up the aisle, Lee seeks to follow. However, Jonas
Elm cuts him off. The Dutch Mullet doesn't stay long though as both Orbit
and Cooter stand at either side of Lee. He ducks out of the ring and
backs up the aisle and the remaining Guard members flock to Gamma's aid.]

Skullhead: I wouldn't be suprised if Lee went after them, Guard members
be damned.

DR: He's already taken out so many of them already.

[Not happy in the slightest, Lee summons for Debbie Henshall to throw him
the house microphone. She does so, with great precision mind you, and Lee
has no problem calming himself just enough to verbally combat his biggest
detractor.]

KL: Should I be surprised Gamma? You talk and talk and talk about how I'm
a tyrant and when confronted by your enemy, you run!

[One of the ever so helpful Guardsmen hands Gamma Ray a microphone as the
Irradiated One motions for the crowd to shut their traps. This, of
course, only makes them boo louder. Regardless, the Virtuous Vigilante
looks down towards the ring, raises his chin up, and addresses the UWF-
MBC owner.]

GR: Is it your arrogance that prevents you from addressing the Guard and
myself with proper deference, or is it simply your blatant stupidity? The
name is Gamma Ray, you mendaciously hypocritical [BLEEP] face, not just
Gamma, not just Ray, but Gamma Ray. Rhymes with always saves the day!

[The outrage on his face turns to a smirk when the giant-sized Dutchman
soothingly massages his shoulders in support.]

GR: You want to know why I've called for this strategic retrograde
advance, right at the precise moment where you finally show enough
backbone to try and stand up for your farce of a Fed? Because, Lee... now
you finally _want_ something. You _want_ to get me in that ring... and
when your enemy _wants_ something from you, the smarter man doesn't give
it to him for free!

KL: For once in your life, could you just shut the Hell up?

[POP!]

KL: Sorry... [Very intentional pause]... Gamma... but you had your chance
to talk. Six shows of talking no less. So now its my turn and you're
going to stand there and listen. Unless of course you want to run away
again. Unless you want to hop in your beaten down Gamma mobile... which
I'll call Gamma as well... and go crying into the night.

[The crowd erupts into chants of "MAKE HIM PAY! MAKE HIM PAY!"]

Slush: Pay? For what?

DR: The crowd wants justice.

Slush: Isn't that what Gamma Ray brought us? Truth, justice and the Gamma
Ray way?

Skullhead: Hardly.

KL: The fact of the matter is, I tried to deal with you in the most
professional and courteous way I possibly could. I sat with you and
negotiated. I let the Guard act as security. I let... well I let you get
away with a lot of things.

That was my first mistake.

I felt I had bigger fish to fry.

That was my second mistake.

I'll be the first to admit it. I was a fool in dealing with you. And for
that, you've humiliated me. You've run roughshod over everything...
EVERYTHING... that I've worked so hard to build here.

But then you did it. You crossed a line that.... well.... I can tolerate
a lot of things. But the Cup... you destroyed something that I
cherished... something that meant the world to me on so many levels.

[Lee pauses, overwhelmed by the emotion of losing his CL Memorial Cup
trophy... a moment that is distastefully interrupted by Gamma Ray's
sardonic chuckling.]

GR: That's exactly why I know you'll end up giving me what I want, Lee.
What I want is for you to brush off the dust and mould off of your
wrestling gear and add yourself to the Heaven and Hell card. What I want,
Lee, is a match against you. Kyle Lee and Gamma Ray, one on one at Heaven
and Hell. It's the very same thing you now desire. And since you badly
want this match to become a reality as well, I also want you to put
something on the line. When I defeat you at Heaven or Hell, I want the
[BLEEP]ing MBC de-merged and I want it out of my UWF! No longer shall my
wrestling company's good name be tarnished by your asinine circus
sideshow of a federation! I want it out!

Still hesitating, Lee? Think maybe it's not worth the risk? Then I'll
wager the Guard's security contract on it if I have to! I wan-

[Lee waves his hands across his throat and magically, Gamma Ray's
microphone goes silent. And yes, the crowd goes wild.]

Skullead: Thank the Lord! He's gone mute!

DR: We can probably thank the guys in the production truck.

KL: I wasn't kidding when I said you were done talking, Gamma! For that
matter, you're done terrorizing the staff and roster, too. I'll be [MEEP]
damned if I let you do it again.

I'll be [MEEP]damned if I let you do it to anybody else.

I'LL BE [MEEP]DAMNED IF I'M GOING TO LET YOU CONTINUE WALKING AROUND HERE
LIKE SOME HERO!

[The crowd eats it up as Gamma Ray jolts back like the words themselves
electrocuted him. Orbit and Cooter nod and give Lee the requisite amens.]

KL: You're no hero...

[A pause to further make Gamma Ray the Irritated One.]

KL: ...Gamma. You're just a man and a cowardly one at that. If you want a
match...

[Lee pauses as the crowd erupts into chants of "WE WANT THE MATCH! WE
WANT THE MATCH!]

KL: If you want the match, Gamma then you've got it. I hate doing these
things but what I love is being able to work out every last frustration
in beating a man. If it means getting the Guard out, I'll put the merger
on the line. But I know how you work. I'm not taking a chance of the
Guard coming down and ruining yet another match. So we're going to do
this...

[Wait for it...]

KL: ...in a steel cage.

[Gamma Ray's taken aback... by the looks of his reaction, he had not
factored this element into his plan... But with Elm's encouragements, the
Irradiated One's eyes narrow, and he finally nods. He leans back and
whispers instructions into the Dutch Mullet's ear, then turns back to
Lee.]

GR: That works for me. Kyle Lee, Gamma Ray, steel cage match, Guard or
MBC leaves town match. Have Chambers prepare the contracts, and we'll get
to signing them next month, Lee. Until then... maybe you'd be interested
in a sample of things to come? After all, if you're delusional enough to
think you can challenge the Guard's law and win, the sooner you learn the
real order of things, the better!

[As Gamma Ray's talking, Elm leads the guardsmen to encircle the ring
once more.]

DR: Oh, I know what they're planning, here!

Skullhead: We've seen these same tactics before; a dozen Guardsmen
against only three men in the ring... it does not bode well!

DR: Hold on! Look who's joining the party!

[Up the ramp, below the MegaTron and behind the Guards, it's Stan
Crawford, Max Benson, Clayton Ross, Mike Reznor... and more MBC stalwarts
keep joining them! Now Ronan Benedict is joining the ranks, and...
Already, the confidence of Gamma Ray's minions seems to be quickly
waning.]

GR: Oh... ahem... I declare this day saved, men! You can... you can...

[Benson darts down the alley, closely followed by Crawford, Ross, Reznor
and Benedict... but all the Guardsmen have already scattered like rats in
daylight, Gamma Ray scurrying through the crowd the fastest!]

DR: What an example of courage.

Skullhead: As soon as the odds are even, he runs away. Makes you wonder
how he'll fare once Lee has him trapped in a cage!

Slush: Gamma Ray's a superhero. The odds are never even against a
superhero.

[Camera cut to Harley Sanders, the former Doomsday Chicken, standing
alone in a small locker room. He's posed in front of the floor-length
mirror, wearing only his wrestling tights and boots, posing and flexing
so he can drink in every detail of his upper body physique and Mountain
Dew-oriented tattoos.]

Sanders: Yeah.. look at that.. yeaaaahhhhhhh....

[Someone clears their throat off to the side. The camera whips around and
there stands Crimson, in his black suit and red shirt. He's holding a
plastic bag with something inside -- something soft.]

Crimson: Getting yourself psyched up, I take it?

Sanders: You know how I like to do it, man. EXTR--

Crimson: [sharp, to cut him off] Yes, I know. Here.

[Crimson tosses the bag to Sanders, who catches it. Sanders peers inside
and grins.]

Sanders: You did it. This is legit? I can just waltz down there and do my
thing and nobody will stop me?

Crimson: Nobody will stop you. I am who I am, Harley.

Sanders: [grinning] Yeah, you totally are, dude. EXTR--

Crimson: I'll be on my way, then.

Sanders: Sure thing, dude.

Crimson: Sir.

Sanders: Uh, sir.

[Crimson steps out of the locker room as Sanders opens the bag... and the
camera fades out before we see what's inside.

The scene fades into a shot of Juan Vasquez, seated in his dressing room.
In the background, a live-feed of the show plays on a monitor, but
Juan seems to be lost in his own thoughts. There's anger in his eyes,
frustration on his face and he has the look of a man that just wants to
be left alone; no doubt still reeling from what happened between him and
Edwin Lopez. Just then, the door then swings open as a figure comes
rushing in, right towards Juan Vasquez with nothing but... joy in his
eyes! Yes, it's the new UWF World Television Champion, Tommy Stephens!]

TS: Juan! Juan! Juan!

[Stephens holds up the Television title.]

TS: Look! I did it! I mean...

[Tommy looks down at the title again.]

TS: I really did it! I won a championship! Like, the right way!

[Stephens nods, happily, as Juan tries to put his best face forward.
There's no need to drag Tommy down with him.]

JV: I saw.

[A rare smile appears on Vasquez's face as he gets out of his seat to
greet his friend, genuinely happy for his success.]

JV: Congratulations, Tommy...I always knew you could do it.

TS: Thanks! You know, I tried to find you after the show in Detroit, but
I couldn't see where you were... You didn't answer the calls or
anything... I mean, yeah, I was celebrating with my friends and family
too, but it would've been cool to share this with you, you know?

[Juan's smile slightly falters, but he quickly recovers.]

JV: Sorry about that...just had a lot on my mind.

[His eyes slowly drift downward.]

JV: Hell...I still do.

[Tommy gives a somewhat perplexed look, but shakes it off.]

TS: Yeah, I, uh... but, hey, whatever, right? I mean, this here... This
title here? It shows I really climbed out of that dark pit I put myself,
you know? And I just wanted to make sure to come here and...

[Stephens pauses.]

TS: And thank you. Thank you for being there when no one else was...
Thank you for helping me get back on track... Helping me get here to the
UWF and...

[Tommy nods.]

TS: You know, just being that good friend.

[Stephens sticks out his hand for a shake and Juan's mood seems to almost
instantly brighten up. After all he's gone through, this was something he
really needed to hear. He takes Tommy's hand and shakes it.]

JV: I always believed in you, Tommy. You always had the talent...all you
had to do was believe in yourself.

[Juan gives him a playful jab to the shoulder.]

JV: And you took out Alex Martinez of all people! Look at ya'! You're
practically a killer!

[Tommy chuckles...]

TS: Heh, yeah, who'd've thunk that, right?

[But as Stephens stands back a bit, he shows a bit of growing
discomfort.]

TS: But... uh... Juan, I...

[Stephens bites his upper lip as he throws his title over his shoulder.]

JV: What's wrong?

TS: Well... You know, I mean, through all this, I... You said it
yourself, you know? You had a lot on your mind and all... and... I just
can't help but think about what you and Luke are going through.

[At that moment, Juan's demeanor noticeably changes as the grin on his
face completely disappears.]

TS: I mean, we were all friends, you know? A tight group - from St.
Louis, to Los Angeles, to here now in the UWF. I mean...

[Tommy shakes his head.]

TS: What you did to Extreme or Epstein or whatever his name is now, that
was alright - he deserved what he got. But...

[Stephens pauses, sighing and putting a hand to his head.]

TS: You threatened to end Luke's career, too! It's... I mean... I just...
Can't you all just put it all behind you all? This is going too far, you
know? It's just not...

JV: Not what?

TS: It's just not... What you all... What you said...

[Tommy shakes his head sadly.]

TS: ...It's just not right.

JV: "Not right?"

[Juan stares right at Stephens.]

JV: Fairness ain't got anything to do with this, Tommy.

[He shakes his head slowly.]

JV: Luke turned his back on me. On you. On all of us! After the hell we
went through for him...that's the thanks I get? That's the "friend" that
we fought for? Where's the fairness in that? You think I can just
forgive...

[Suddenly, Juan just stops everything and holds his hands up, trying to
remain composed as best as he can. He takes in a deep breath and then
looks up, staring at Tommy angrily.]

JV: Get out.

[The look of shock on Tommy's face is unmistakable.]

TS: Wh... What?

JV: You heard me...get out.

[Juan's tone is cold and distant now, restrained and barely concealing
bitter outrage at his friend. Stephens shows utter confusion on his
face.]

JV: If you ain't with me, Tommy...then you're against me...and I got no
use for someone that's not on my side.

[He points to the door.]

JV: _Get out._

[Stephens puts a hand to his head, confused... and now showing a bit of
pain as he feels the knife in his back.]

TS: Juan, I didn't mean... I was just sayin' that we all... you don't
mean that?

JV: I thought I could trust you. Thought I could trust Edwin too. But...

[He stops and laughs to himself. Maybe to hide his pain, maybe because he
just can't believe how everything's turning out for him...but he laughs
all the same.]

JV: ...but it's obvious now that I can't trust anybody.

[He closes his eyes and steels himself.]

JV: Just leave, Tommy...

[There's a split-second of hesitation before he says his next words,
words he never thought he'd have to say.]

JV: ...before I do something I regret.

[Tommy backs up, looking at Vasquez with an unmistakable look of
continued shock and sadness. He looks down for a moment at the title that
had given him that shot of joy... and then slowly looks back at his long-
time friend.]

TS: ...

[Stephens goes to speak, but instead slumps his head down again and turns
around towards the door. As he grasps the handle, he takes a brief look
back and sighs... before leaving the locker room, sullen. Vasquez watches
him walk out the door, before lowering his head, still seething.
Suddenly, he grabs his chair...]



*CRAAASSH!!!*



[...and tosses it across the room in anger, knocking over the monitor. He
backs up against wall, breathing heavy and grabbing his head with both
hands, as a distressed look appears on his face. As he lowers his head
sadly...we fade out.]

AM: That man is at the lowest point of his career, maybe his life. He's
got no friends left, he's alienated himself. Juan Vasquez is a man
alone.

DR: Speaking of men alone, ladies and gentlemen on the phone right now,
we are joined by perhaps the most hated man in wrestling today. The UWF
World Heavyweight champion, Mr. Trey DaMann.

[The Megatron flashes a large promotional photograph of Trey DaMann. He
is dressed in a jet black Armani suit, with short black hair, piercing
baby blue eyes, and a smug know-it-all smile. The multi-million dollar
championship belt is pristinely draped over his right shoulder. Written
at the bottom of the screen are the words LIVE FROM LOS ANGELES,
CALIFORNIA. The crowd, who naturally just hates everything Trey DaMann,
voice their displeasure.]

DR: Are you there?

TD: (a great deal of irritation evident in his voice) Yes, I'm here.

DR: My first question is why you are not here in Charlotte tonight. Does
it have anything to do with the injuries you suffered at the end of the
last Rampage Bloody Rampage?

TD: (quickly cutting off Rogers) No. I am perfectly fine. It was just a
headache, that's all. I am in peak physical condition. I'll be completely
honest in saying that I am in the best shape of my entire life.

AM: Ha!

[Amy rolls her eyes.]

TD: I'm not in Charlotte tonight, simply because I wasn't booked to
compete... and so I don't need to be there. When I first came to the UWF,
I used to enjoy being in the arena during the show. I would throw a huge
party, invite all of my friends from around the world, and have a great
time. But now, it's different. Especially with everyone in that locker
room out to ambush me. Downtime in the UWF used to be fun, but now I have
to watch my back for people trying to gang up and get the best of me when
I least expect it. So if I don't have to be there, I'm not gonna be
there. Simple as that.

SS: Normally when you're not in the arena, you ask for a camera crew to
be sent to your mansion in the hills. Why are you calling in by telephone
tonight? Are there renovations? Is the jacuzzi broken?

TD: No, Sam, I just remember what happened the last time there was an
almost-live feed eminating from my home. I'm not going to put myself in
the position of being humiliated all over again. This time, if I don't
like what's happening, I can just hang up on all of you.

SS: Great decision, champ.

TD: (dismissively) Yeah.

DR: While we still have you on the line, Trey, we'd like to know your
thoughts about the person who orchestrated the events that still have
people talking all over the wrestling world, our President, Kyle Lee.

TD: I'm not concerned with Kyle Lee. In fact, I don't think anything
about him. I know it's just a matter of time until The Guard gets their
hands on him. And when they do? Bye-bye prez. Nice knowing ya. He'll be
taken care of, and I won't even need to lift a finger to do it.

[Another strong negative response from the Charlotte crowd.]

TD: As far as the rest of the people involved, I already beat Scott
Daniels. I'm done with him as far as I'm concerned. Epstein, Young, Bonn,
Osawa, Shock, Landis... life had pretty much ruined all of them before I
was even in the picture. They're not nearly worthy enough of my
attention, but if circumstances do arise where I am in the same ring as
any of them, they'll wish they never involved themselves in my business.
They better hope to God that Kyle Lee will protect them from me as long
as he can.

AM: You're leaving someone out.

TD: No, I'm specifically saving Gabriel Whitecross for last. Yeah, I'll
admit he got more than a few good shots in on me. If anyone was keeping
track, he certainly won the last round.

[This time, Trey is cut off by an eruption of cheers.]

TD: I still have my spies over at the UWF/MBC headquarters. During my
absence, I had been hearing all along that everyone had been clamoring
for someone to stand up to me and bring the UWF World Heavyweight title
home. They wanted a hero. They wanted someone who stood for the UWF. They
wanted a champion of whom they could finally be proud. They wanted
someone to do what was right. They wanted someone who had it within them
to defeat me.

[Amy, in particular, doesn't hide her emphatic agreement with this
cause.]

TD: If that's what they wanted, they couldn't have found anyone better
than Gabriel Whitecross. A multiple-time champion! A first-ballot Hall of
Famer! An absolute legend in this business! He is admired the world over!
He does what's right! He is virtue personified! He is willing to stand up
for the UWF! He is the hero that the UWF needs!! He is everything that
Kyle Lee, the boys in the back, and all the fans of the UWF could ever
want!!!

[Trey, perhaps knowingly, is whipping the crowd into a frenzy.]

TD: But Kyle and the entire UWF's logic is wrong. BECAUSE Gabriel is all
that, he doesn't stand a chance of beating me.

[A thunderous round of boos shake the rafters of the Time Warner Cable
Arena.]

TD: A hero can do a great many things. But beat me, one-on-one? No,
absolutely not.

[DaMann pauses to let this sink in.]

TD: A hero, by their very admirable nature, can't do the horrible things
required to win this belt. The terrible things that I, with all modesty,
have turned into an art form. The awful things in which I take tremendous
pride. The disgusting things that led me to the very top of this
profession. Now, a hero can't do what I do. That's what makes them
vulnerable. That's what makes them weak. That's why they don't have a
prayer against me.

[Trey ignores the vehement jeers of the crowd and continues.]

TD: So please UWF, send a hero to stop me. In fact, please send perhaps
the greatest hero this sport has ever known to face me. It'll be like
leading a lamb to the slaughter.

[DaMann laughs to himself....but instead of the haughty and booming type,
it is a low, sinister chuckle.]

TD: Now if it was just based on talent and ability, Gabriel Whitecross
may be someone who could beat me, perhaps even with me at my very best.
But it's not. If the heroic, admirable, virtuous Gabriel Whitecross shows
up against me, then he will be completely overmatched. If I gave a crap
about anyone, I may almost feel sorry for him.

[Amy gives a loud disgusted sigh right into the microphone.]

TD: Can't say you weren't warned, Gabe. I told you not to cross my path
again, because you wouldn't want to know what would happen. I have plans
for you.

[Another sadistic, almost obnoxious laugh by the champ.]

TD: C'mon, Gabe, try to be a hero in a world where heroes just don't win.
They can't win. Not against someone like me. But I guess you'll find that
out in short time, won't you.

DR: Ladies and gentlemen, the reigning UWF World Heavyweight champion,
Trey DaMann.

[*click* ~~dialtone~~]

AM: Well, class act as always Trey. And what was with you sucking up to
him, Sam? Have you been asleep for the last year? The man went to
disgusting lengths, preyed on the sympathies of the fans and stooped to
such incredible lows to get what he wanted.

SS: Yeah, but ultimately he got what he wanted, and wouldn't let the
opinion of the general public get in his way. That's the American dream.

AM: Well, Glenn Beck's maybe.

DR: Well it's now time for the main event, the third match of the UWF/MBC
World Series which is presently tied up at a win apiece for each company.

Skullhead: And this match is a big one, it's title for title with "Pure
Power" Jerry Titus taking on "The Era of Defiance" Gabriel Whitecross.
Jerry of course is the SBC Champion, and Whitecross currently holds the
North American Title.

DR: The winner of this match definitely swings the momentum of the whole
tournament to his side, and I'm interested to see how the crowd reacts.
Titus and Whitecross are a lot alike in their personalities as well as
their ring styles. Where Gabriel gets the advantage is his experience.

Skullhead: Well hold on, Jerry Titus has youth on his side. If this
match goes long, he's the one with the stamina to outlast Whitecross.

DR: With as much big match experience as he has, I don't know if this
match is going to go all that long.

Skullhead: If Whitecross looks past this match like you seem to be, he's
in for a big surprise. Titus is a wrestling prodigy, with his family
lineage.

AM: Alright alright, calm down both of you. If there's going to be a
fistfight in the broadcast booth I'd rather it happen between Sam and
Slush.

Slush: I'd knock you the hell out.

SS: Tough talk from a hamster babysitter.

_______ ________ _______ _______ ______ ______
| | | | | | ___|----------------------| | | __ \ |
| | | | | | ___| WRITER: | | __ « ---|
|_______|________|___| Mike Beeby |__|_|__|______/______|
Rampage Bloody Rampage Rampage Bloody Rampage

UWF/MBC WORLD SERIES
SBC CHAMPIONSHIP/NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
JERRY TITUS (SBC) vs GABRIEL WHITECROSS (NA)
----------------------------------------------------------------------

[As each man arrived for the match the crowd cheered, and it seemed like
they were indeed a mirror image of one another, separated only by several
years in age. They shook hands as the bell was about to ring, until an
interruption in the form of Harley Sanders brought things to a screeching
halt.]

Pinhead: Now why the hell is Sanders out here? And why is he wearing a
referee's shirt?

Skullhead: We just saw Crimson and Sanders a couple of minutes ago
talking about some sort of plan. I suppose this is what it was about?

[Sanders, proudly wearing a referee's shirt with the sleeves cut off,
ignored the crowd's negative reaction to him and walked up to the referee
in the match, UWF referee Eric Kidman and Debbie Henshall, informing them
of his presence. After a few seconds, Debs informed the crowd.]

DH: Ladies and gentlemen, in the interest of fairness Harley Sanders has
been appointed a special RINGSIDE ENFORCER for tonight's main event!

[The overwhelming response from the crowd? Boo. Titus stared a hole
through Sanders, who took a place on the outside of the ring and grinned
back at the SBC Champion.]

Slush: Alright, I love this decision. Why should it be just a UWF
referee in there?

AM: What are you trying to say, Slush? That we need to have a referee
break the rules for us to win?

Slush: If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck...

SS: Then it has no reason to wear pants?

[The referee went over the usual pre-match spiel, then signalled for the
bell as Sanders stood motionless on the outside. The two moved slowly,
trying to feel one another out with neither lashing out for the first
little while, instead opting to circle one another.

Finally Titus threw the first punch, hitting Gabriel with a hard enough
shot to knock him to the ropes. Gabe came back with some shots of his
own, peppering Titus with some hard lefts and rights before whipping him
to the ropes. Titus countered a spinebuster attempt with a backdrop, and
soon sent Whitecross out to the floor with a clothesline over the top.
Landing near Sanders, Gabe quickly got up without incident and climbed
back onto the apron where Titus hooked him by the head and began to
suplex him back in. The first near-fall of the match went to Titus who
floated over, but Whitecross shortly afterwards countered a clothesline
by ducking, spun around and hit a sidewalk slam into the mat. As Gabe
got up he set Titus up for a german suplex... at which point the lights
suddenly went out in the arena.

When they returned a moment later, Titus was able to escape his grasp and
floored Gabriel with a forearm shiver.]

DR: Sorry folks, arena lighting sometimes has a mind of its own.

AM: The timing was unfortunate for Gabriel.

[Titus sent Whitecross to the ropes once again, but a reversal saw Gabe
powerwhip Jerry to the corner instead. Repeatedly he delivered the
powerwhips until his opponent was staggered, and now he planted Titus
with a german suplex, holding for a pin attempt: 1 -- -- -- 2 --
Kickout!]

AM: Did that seem like a slow count to anyone else here?

Slush: You're starting to see things you want now. Like my throbbing
libido.

[The referee began to have words with Gabriel, as Whitecross grabbed
Titus around the waist and set up for another suplex. The camera picked
up some of the referee's words: "You don't think you can really beat
Trey, though, do you?" and Whitecross's attention spun around to the
official, releasing Jerry. The veteran star cocked his head and asked
the referee if he was serious, but before he could answer Titus clobbered
Whitecross with a running clothesline.]

DR: Somewhat unprofessional behavior out of Referee Kidman, and it's
costing Gabriel Whitecross here tonight.

Skullhead: At least he doesn't have a huge obstacle like Sanders right
outside the ring. Jerry Titus has to keep an eye on Harley at all times.

AM: Why was he trash talking Gabe though? Come to think of it... have we
ever seen this referee before?

[Jerry tried to drop Gabe with a boot to the face, but quick as a flash
Whitecross grabbed Titus by the leg and applied the Family Name as the
crowd cheered. Jerry winced in pain as the anklelock was set in by the
veteran grappler, struggling and reaching for the ropes as Kidman stood
back in the corner watching, but not checking with Titus.]

AM: Come on, what's going on? The ref's not even bothering to ask Titus
if he submits!

Skullhead: It's a pretty safe bet he wouldn't anyways.

DR: Gabriel has the Family Name locked in but this referee doesn't appear
interested in doing his job!

[As the EoD kept looking and yelling towards the referee, he didn't
notice as a fan seated in the front row threw a full cup of beer at him.
It hit square in the back, drenching him and as a result he released the
anklelock hold, Titus rolling quickly to the outside.]

Skullhead: And Jerry Titus is free!

AM: He's free because that fan just got involved! Here comes arena
security at least to escort him out.

DR: Fans are free to cheer for whoever they like, but it certainly
doesn't give them the right to get involved in matches- and look, that
fan's wearing a Trey DaMann shirt.

[The fan is led away by security, ranting and raving about Trey's
"inevitable beating of Whitecross" as an incredulous Gabe watched in
anger. It let Titus use a schoolboy to roll Gabriel up for a near three
count, surprising the crowd as well as the Era of Defiance.]

Pinhead: Close call!

Skullhead: The SBC Champion back to his feet, what a shot to Whitecross,
he's dazed. Throw to the corner-

DR: Elbow counter from Gabriel! Jerry Titus rocking and rolling now,
Gabriel setting up for an Alabama Slam!

[Whitecross prepared to send Titus crashing back to the mat when suddenly
his concentration was again broken, this time by a disembodied voice:]

House P.A.: Attention ladies and gentlemen, there is a grey Mazda 3 in
the south side parking lot with its lights on, license plate number
TDM-2010.

AM: Now what the hell?

House P.A.: Also, when Trey DaMann comes back he's going to make Gabriel
Whitecross sorry he was ever born.

DR: I'm starting to sense a theme here in this match.

AM: And I smell a rat.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: I agree, this does border on racism.

[Titus snapped Whitecross to the canvas with a russian legsweep and
hooked a leg again, and a quick count now from the official was barely
broken in time by the North American Champion. Now Titus questioned the
referee, who merely shrugged...

...and then shoved Titus out of the way of an oncoming Whitecross, who
barely stopped short of plowing the referee over. Threatening him with a
disqualification, it doubled as a distraction when Titus delivered a
belly-to-belly suplex to the canvas for another opportunity for a near
fall.]

SS: What a weird match this has been.

DR: I'd say it's pretty obvious what's going on and who's behind this.
The brand new referee, the fan distractions, could our world champion be
pulling the strings from afar?

SS: Now you're just being paranoid.

Skullhead: Don't forget the presence of Sanders. Crimson wouldn't have
sent him out for no reason.

[Gabriel stopped Titus on the outside apron and tried to suplex him back
into the ring, but a headbutt knocked him backwards and Jerry returned to
the ring with a devastating shoulderblock. Pulling him up Jerry hit a
quick powerslam and hooked a leg for another pin attempt: 1 -- 2 --
Kickout! Titus settled into a chinlock, pressing down on the grey-haired
warrior and using as much leverage as he could muster.]

Skullhead: I'm surprised that Harley Sanders hasn't really gotten
involved here in the match.

AM: Probably because this referee is already as crooked as they come.

[As Titus grabbed Gabriel and pulled him up again, the EoD smashed him
with an elbow to the face. They grappled once more, finding themselves
in the corner trading blows. An attempt to whip Titus across the ring
was foiled with a short-arm clothesline by the SBC Champion, and he set
up for the Purely Powerful powerbomb. Lifting Whitecross up into
position, Gabe grabbed the top turnbuckle to save himself from being
dropped spine-first, eventually pulling himself into a standing position
on the second rope. A kick to the face rocked Titus and allowed
Whitecross to hit a thunderous diving clothesline, sending Titus to the
mat. Gabriel threw an arm across Jerry: 1 -- 2 -- Kickout! POP!]

Skullhead: A near fall, but Titus escapes the three count!

AM: Gabe is doing all he can to hang in here but this is getting
completely out of hand. What more does he have to withstand?

[As Whitecross began to rise again, he grabbed Titus and tried to set up
for the Siege Perilous. But as he attempted to lift him up onto his
shoulders, Jerry came alive and hammered away with repeated shots to the
head. Gabriel staggered and then suddenly fell backwards, sending Titus
crashing into the turnbuckles backfirst. Both men were heavily dazed by
this, but while a referee normally might starting to count them both out,
Referee Kidman had other plans...

Dragging Titus across Gabriel's form and then diving into position:

1 -- 2 -- And Harley Sanders chose that moment to get finally get
involved, pulling the referee out of the ring! SHOCKED POP!]

AM: What the hell is going on now? I never thought I'd be thankful for
Harley Sanders.

Skullhead: Sanders just nailed the referee, he's screwed MBC over!

[Sanders dropped the referee with a hard shot to the head, then rolled
into the ring where Titus was beginning to clear his head. At least
until a DDT across his opponent's prone body again left them both down,
Jerry lying across Gabe.















123!












A fast count later, the bell rang and "The Power" by Snap hit the PA
system, Sanders rolling from the ring immediately with a large grin on
his face.]

DH: Here is your winner... AND NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEW NORTH
AMERICAN HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION...

JERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRY TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSS!

AM: I don't believe what I'm seeing! Gabriel was screwed out of the
title! This is terrible!

DR: It's a travesty of justice, I'm afraid, from any way you look at it.
There were so many overwhelming factors in that contest, Gabriel never
had a chance from the very start. Trey DaMann managed to effect things
without even being in the building.

Pinhead: Let's not be hasty there, Crimson and Harley Sanders have just
as much to do with this result. Sanders handed the match to Jerry Titus,
and just to be a jerk he drilled that referee too.

Skullhead: All I know is Jerry Titus is now a double champion, and the
MBC is suddenly ahead in the World Series two victories to one.

[Sanders slides out of the ring and takes the North American championship
belt and pries it out of the timekeeper's hands, then tosses it at the
feet of the new champion. Titus picks it up and looks the belt over,
then turns and looks at Sanders who gives him the finger and walks up the
aisle.]

DR: So for the first time in its history, the North American Champion is
now held by a wrestler not employed by the UWF.

Slush: Gonna cry?

Pinhead: The truly ironic thing is if Jerry Titus knew just how this
match ended he'd never accept the win.

[Titus offers a hand to Whitecross, who's still woozy and not quite sure
where he is as he keeps a hand to the back of his head.]

Skullhead: That's going to do it for this week, join us next time for the
final stop before Heaven and Hell.

[Fade to black.]
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