[We open to a young voice of a child.]

Voice: I want to be a soldier when I grow up.

[A proud American Solider.]

Voice: I want to be a police officer.

[In full uniform a Police Officer.]

Voice: I want to be a Teacher ... I want to be a Astronaut ... I want
to be a Fireman's ... I want to be a Baseball player ... I want to be
like my dad ...

[A shot through the street's of every day people.  They go about their
daily lives as the camera slowly zooms. out.

Voice: I want to be a PVW superstar.

[Silence ... As the opening of Represent by Weezer begins to play. The
PVW's crowd is piped in as the opening begins to play.  The bright
lights of the arena as it spirals down onto the center of the PVW
wrestling ring.]

# I'm sick and tired of everybody trying to tell me what to do #
# If I'm in need of your advice then surely I would come to you #
# I didn't get in this position just by having a stance #
# I work my bones beyond my limit just to have half a chance #

[We open to the PVW's Warrior, Larry Gionet after he just turned on
his friend, Chris Hartt.  The look in his eyes explains everything.
Rob Cole and William Craven war has hit it's peak.  The two gladiators
are being tore apart by waves of security.  Nevermind lifts Chris
Hartt up and gorilla press slams him onto the guardrail.]

# It matters how you play the game #
# It matters that you can take the pain #
# You don't wanna lie, steal or cheat your way to the top ohhh #
# It matters what your people think #
# You represent your family #
# But thats just one more reason to see that it matters whether you
win or lose #

[Livestock and Ohno Ow inside the ring ... The Gutch and Mal Practice
on the outside ...  Tom Landis hits the Chicago Thunderbomb II on his
brother in law, Perry Fontana.  Caleb Foley barely able to stand at
Tradition V climbs the ring and leaps off with his 450 splash.]

# Why don't we see who is the wizard and play some one on one? #
# I think you'll find me sympathetic to ya... when I've won #
# It seems you've got the throne to beat me as if it's all i takes #
# But I've got skills to pay the bills and punish each of your
mistakes #

[After the unexpected ending to the HIT finals.  Arvelle drills Sal in
the head with the HIT Trophy.  Dan Flores leaps into his backstabber
dropping down his opponent. Christian Copeland nails the mega-popular,
Senor Cloak Dos with Smacky.  The Biz holds the Dragon Kid mask and
slowly drops it down on Tommy Ryder.]

# You know it #
# It matters how you play the game #
# It matters that you can take the pain #
# You don't wanna lie, steal or cheat your way to the top ohhh #
# It matters what your people think #
# You represent your family #
# But thats just one more reason to see that it matters whether you
win or lose #

[Danny Daniels is upon the second turnbuckle and leaps and nails
Chance McKenzie with his diving headbutt known as TOODLES~! Livestock
Zappa and Dr. Ohno Ow hold the PVW tag team championship belts high in
the air as Tom Landis lays on the mat. Matthew Lee Holliday drives the
Skull of Alex Martinez into the mat with the Ace in the Hole,
pumphandle cradle ddt.]

# One hundred years from now #
# Gonna look back on this day #
# Where you goin to be? #
# And what are they goin to say? #

Salih Mubarak Irish whips Matthew Lee Holliday into the corner and
grabs his partner's arm, Max Weinrib, whipping him towards Holliday
and Holliday is nailed with an Avalanche.  Gibson Hayes has Max
Weinrib in a front chancery and hits the Bounced Check, slingshot
suplex. Marcus Manson hoists Larry Gionet up onto his shoulders in a
fireman's carry and drills him into the mat with a Death Valley Driver
at Tradition V.]

# I see my name in lights #
# The people call my name #
# It's all up to you #
# Will you find your way? #

# It matters how you play the game #
# It matters that you can take the pain #
# You don't wanna lie, steal or cheat your way to the top ohhh #
# It matters what your people think #
# You represent your family #
# But that's just one more reason to see that it matters whether you
win or lose #

[A bloodied Herscher von Donkerhardt locks a cobra clutch on Marcus
Manson and powers him over with the Birth of Tragedy suplex. Fontana,
Marley locks a three quarter nelson on The Mercenary and sits down
nailing the Widowmaker, Ace Crusher! Dan Flores and Chris Hartt are
stacked on one another in the center of the ring and Perry Fontana
locks crucifix armbars on both men! Chris Hartt locks a waist lock
upon Marcus Manson and powers the bigger man up and over with a nasty
looking German suplex.]

# It matters what your mother thinks #
# You represent your family #
# But that's just one more reason to see that it matters whether you
win or lose #

[AsH hits the AsH Kisser on Christopher Black. Johnny Detson picks up
Chris Hartt up in a vertical suplex and slingshots him off of the top
rope, using the extra momentum he nails The Sell-Out; Corkscrew
Brainbuster. The Mercenary kicks Chance McKenzie in the gut and locks
on a front chancery. In a fluid motion he hoists him into the air and
holds him for a moment, before nailing the Payoff, delayed
brainbuster.]

[Gibson Hayes drops into a beg off position then sucker shots the poor
bastard.  Doc Holliday stands in the center of his home state, with a
look of pride upon his face, standing as the number one contender.
Rick Marley _our_ champion, with the title around his waist building a
legacy to be talked about for years.  As the music finally ends we
fade to the PVW, End Game logo.]


__________ ____   ____ __      __
\______   \\   \ /   //  \    /  \
 |     ___/ \   Y   / \   \/\/   /
 |    |      \     /   \        /
 |____|       \___/     \__/\  /
                             \/



       ___        ___
  .'|=|_.'   .'| |   |   .'|=|`.
.'  |  ___ .'  |\|   | .'  | |  `.
|   |=|_.' |   | |   | |   | |   |
|   |  ___ |   | |  .' |   | |  .'
|___|=|_.' |___| |.'   |___|=|.'



       ___                                  ___
  .'|=|_.'    .'|=|`.     .'|\/|`.     .'|=|_.'
.'  |___    .'  | |  `. .'  |  |  `. .'  |  ___
|   |`._|=. |   |=|   | |   |  |   | |   |=|_.'
`.  |  __|| |   | |   | |   |  |   | |   |  ___
  `.|=|_.'' |___| |___| |___|  |___| |___|=|_.'




**********************************************

		PVW END GAME

		MAY 30th, 2011

 Veteran's Memorial Coliseum, Phoenix, Arizona

 **********************************************




~ FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH ~




~ FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH ~




~ FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH ~




!!! BOOOOOOOOOOOOM !!!



!!! BOOOOOOOOOOOOM !!!




!!! BOOOOOOOOOOOOM !!!




[IT'S END GAME 2011 BIATCH POP!]




[The fireworks light up the arena as the home town, Phoenix fans are
on their feet going absolutely wild.  PVW merchandise fill the jammed
pack, Veteran's Memorial Coliseum.  The fans have filled the arena and
a seat doesn't appear to be open in the Coliseum.  Foam fingers, T-
shirts, Senor Cloak Dos mask's, and sign's fill the camera.

The PVW ring is decorated with the End Game logo.  Black and Blue
ropes matched with turnbuckle padding has replaced the usual black,
silver, and gold.  Hanging in the middle of the ring sits the
briefcase that you can only assume holds the, Called Shot.

We reach ring side where Chip Lester and Fred Hoyle sit.]

CL: Folks we are back on Pay Per View and we are live in, Phoenix!  We
just witnessed four grueling matches.  Two wrestlers have already left
for the ER.  And we have already witnessed a title change.  And we are
just getting things started!

FH: Sounds like a great way to start the night off.

CL: We have three more title matches.  We have grudge matches.  And we
have a Called Shot for one of the lucky seven to grab.

FH: Some have said that the Called Shot was the moment that, Rick
Marley took his career to the next step.  And now at End Game 2011 he
is in the Main Event defending his title against two other men.

CL: We also have a return of a legend.  Gabriel Whitecross will be the
special guest referee in that very match.

FH: Whitecross was a force at one time.  Even Rick Marley will tell
you that he stood toe-to-toe with some of the best this industry has
ever seen.  However that was a long time ago.  When guys like Holliday
and Marley were starting their career's.

CL: Either way he should bring justice to the night.

FH: That's all Rick Marley can ask for.

CL: We also have the final battle between two brother-in-law's.

FH: Perry Fontana can finally shake those shackles.  He has been
carrying the deadweight known to the PVW as, Tom Landis for way too
long now.

CL: Landis picked up the victory at Tradition V.

FH: Even more of a reason ... Plus you can bet his lovely wife would
never betray him and toss that towel inside the ring.

CL: She is, Tom Landis sister too.

FH: So even Tom's family hate's him.

CL: I know that's untrue.  William Craven and Rob Cole will meet
inside the ring and when it comes to these two men we never know what
to expect.

FH: Oh sure we do ... Lot's of carnage and blood.  Just keep the pen's
away from Rob Cole!

CL: Plus will we finally get answers in the Investigation?  The
Mercenary and Chance McKenzie will meet again inside the ring and we
have been all but promised answers.

FH: At this point I don't care _who_ it is.  Just stop forcing us to
chase our tails.

CL: It has been a long time coming that's for sure.  There is so many
more answers ready to be answered here tonight like the tag team title
match.  Will HvD join Ryder and Senor Cloak Dos in the ER after his
match? And so many more, but it's an End Game tradition to start
things off with the Called Shot and the Voice is headed inside the
ring!

FH: Hey let's talk more about the potential end of HvD's career!

HD: Ladies and gentlemen our next contest is the Lucky Seven: CALLED
SHOT!

[HUGE CROWD POP!]

CL: Seven men and only one of them will become ...

FH: MISTER CALLED SHOT!

#I AAAAAAM SMELLIN' LIKE A ROSE THAT SOMEBODY GAVE ME ON MY BIRTHDAY
DEATH BED!#

["Dead and Bloated" by Stone Temple Pilots fires up as the fans react
with a huge cheer. As the drums kick in and the song unfurls it's slow
paced goodness, the curtain is swept back and Dan Flores saunters out
to the crowd, raising both hands. Flores wears glossy midnight blue
wrestling tights with a cursive "D" and "F" interlocking on the back
in silver, white 3/4 boots that go just below the knee, with black
kneepads. His wrists are heavily wrapped in white athletic tape, and
he wears a black elbow pad on his right arm.]

HD: From Robbinsdale, Minnesota... weighing two hundred thirty three
pounds...


!!! DAN FLORES !!!


[As Flores makes his way to the ring his music is quickly replaced
Anthrax's S.S.C./Stand or Fall. Chris Hartt makes his way out onto the
stage. Red lights shine in a grand display, as Chris holds his arms
out to the sides, then walks to the ring, leaping onto the apron,
climbing in and mounting a turnbuckle, repeating the sign of the
cross.]

HD: From Minneapolis, Minnesota... weighing two hundred forty five
pounds...


!!! THE PALADIN CHRIS HARTT !!!


[The lights go down again, and someone steps from the back.  It is...a
trumpeter? The trumpeter blasts a bombastic little fanfare on his
trumpet, and a banner unfurls from the top  of the entranceway.  It
reads: DAYS SINCE LAST NINJA ATTACK - 7.

Following the fanfare, "Afternoon Delight" by Starland Vocal Band
starts up.  The fans give a loud heel pop for the obnoxious
introduction of the self-professed SUPREME Champion, "Your Hero" Danny
Daniels.  Daniels bursts from behind the welcome banner, arms spread
to soak in all of the imaginary glory of his imaginary legions of
fans.  The bulky young man with the straggly blond hair wears a red
sequined jacket with 'Your Hero' written on the back in black, red
trunks, and black boots.  Around his waist is a belt with the words
SUPREME CHAMPION and an embossed picture of Daniels on the faceplate.
A pair of wraparound shades inhabit his clean-shaven face, as does a
big goofy smile representing his joy at being so exulted by his
devotees.]

HD: From San Fransico, California... weighing two hundred sixty five
pounds...


!!! YOUR HERO DANNY DANIELS !!!


[Daniels makes his way to the ring as the booming intro of "Grind" by
Alice in Chains can be heard through the PA system.]

HD: From Stoughton, Massachusetts... weighing two hundred thirty five
pounds...


!!! LARRY GIONET !!!


[Gionet is wearing a hooded a MMA style robe in red with black lining.
With a menacing look on his face, he stops at ringside and raises a
head to stare at the crowd with a deep stare taking in a very deep
breath. Gionet slowly begins to walk to the ring as Grind fades and is
replaced by a familiar guitar riff blasts across the arena from the
loudspeakers, followed by a few driving drum beats and finally the
power chords that signal the opening of Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen
Spirit" trigger a loud chorus of boos and jeers from the crowd.  After
a few moments, the man known only as Nevermind walks calmly through
the curtain and stands on the stage.  His long, greasy black hair
hangs down over his eyes, and a thick, unkempt beard covers his face
and hangs down several inches below his jawline.  He is dressed in a
black kilt, and his combat boots are held together by thick strips of
silver duct tape.  A greying and dingy flannel is wrapped around his
waist by the sleeves and his torso is garbed in the only item of
clothing of his that appears to be relatively clean --  a brand new
black t-shirt with the words "King of Nothing" in white block letters
across the chest. He stands there, staring out blankly towards the
ring as the words written upon his t-shirt appear on the over-
sized screen behind him. The caption vanishes from the screen and is
replaced by the single word "Nevermind" in small white letters upon a
black screen.]

HD:  From Seattle, Washington... weighing two hundred seventy
pounds...


!!! NEVERMIND !!!


[A long drum roll begins to play over the loud speaker, immediately
going into "Hail to the Chief" which is met with an almost immediate
negative reaction. Out struts Johnny Detson dressed in his standard
long gold tights and black boots.  He begins waving to the crowd,
paying no attention to the negative reaction he's receiving.]

HD: From Hollywood, California... weighing two hundred forty eight
pounds...


!!! JOHNNY DETSON !!!


[As Detson makes his way to the ring his music is replaced by "Loyal
to No-One" by The Dropkick Murphy's plays over the arena's sound
system. A hooded man stands at the entrance just bouncing to the beat
of the music. His head is down so his face is completely covered. The
man lifts up his head to reveal that it is none other Caleb Foley and
the crowd has absolutely exploded now with cheers. Caleb pulls the
hood off his head and reveals a new hairstyle his reddish hair
completely slicked back and a full red beard with a black goatee.
Caleb begins to walk down the entrance when he stops, he bends down
and pounds his knuckles to the ground and his points up to the sky.]
HD: And finally from Dublin, Ireland... weighing two hundred twenty
five pounds...


!!! THE CELTIC CRIPPLER CALEB FOLEY !!!

[Foley continues to walk down to the ring as the fans are chanting his
name but seems not to really be interacting with them as much as his
once did. Foley is looking in the ring and he seems to mean business.]

CL: And all seven men are in the ring.

FH: Odds on favorite would have to be Nevermind as he is the biggest
man in the match, but I can't count the man so nice they named him
twice Danny Daniels or of course the one and only CEO and president of
the PVW Johnny Detson.

CL: Larry Gionet is the only man who has been in a called shot match
before so he could be a favorite as well.

FH: That experience could help him but we have to agree that Foley and
Hartt are just fodder in this match.

CL: How can you say that. Caleb Foley main evented the first three pay
previews in PVW's history ... and Chris Hartt was the first ever
Rising
Phoenix Heritage Champion, the same American Title once held by Gibson
Hayes and Perry Fontana and currently held by Herscher von
Donkerhardt.

FH: And what have they done lately? Exactly!

CL: What about Dan Flores?

FH: What about him? I think he was better with his other name.

[With all seven men now inside the ring.  The camera sets on the
briefcase hanging down from the ceiling.  The only way to reach it is
by the use of a ladder.  This is the path one of these superstars will
take to becoming, Mr. Called Shot..]

________    _________________________________________________________
|_   __  | .' ___  |
 | |_ \_|/ .'   \_|               The Called Shot:
 |  _| _ | |   ____   Foley v. Hartt v. Flores v. Gionet v. Detson v.
_| |__/ |\ `.___]  |    Nevermind v. Daniels
|________| `._____.'__________________________________________________


*DING*DING*DING*

CL: There's the bell.

FH: Let the carnage begin!

[Nevermind catches Dan Flores with a stiff right hand and shoves him
out of his way. Foley charges at Johnny Detson and the two begin to
throw rights and lefts at one another as Danny Daniels grabs Chris
Hartt by his shoulder and surprised him with a knee to the mid-
section. As Hartt doubles over Daniels catches him with a swift knee
lift and is about to follow it with a clothesline but Nevermind grabs
his arm, spinning him around and whipping him into the corner.
Nevermind doesn't follow in after Daniels though as he turns and faces
Chris Hartt.]

FH: Nevermind cleared a path and now he's face to face with Hartt!

[Hartt fires off a right hand and second right hand but the bigger
Nevermind is barely moved. As Hartt goes for a third one Nevermind
blocks it and connects with one of his own. Gionet has grabs Dan
Flores and takes him over with a snap suplex. Both men two their feet
quickly and Flores locks on a side head lock and takes Gionet to the
mat with a takedown.]

FH: Why is Flores showing off his technical skills? This is a ladder
match it's kill or be killed.

[Flores though is quickly back to his feet and stomps on Gionet before
pulling him back to his feet. Nevermind has forced Hartt into the
corner and is just unloading on him with knees to the mid-section.
Daniels joins Flores and the two men whip Gionet into the far side
rope, double backbody drop on Gionet. Caleb Foley is caught with a low
blow by Detson and he plants him with a DDT.]

CL: With action all over the ring this match becomes hard to call.

FH: That it does, Chip. Nevermind is joking Hartt in the corner and he
seems to be enjoying it.

[Daniels and Flores pull Gionet back to his feet and Gionet catches
Flores in the eye with a thumb. Daniels though once again drives his
knee into the mid-section of Gionet. Detson slides out of the ring and
grabs the ladder sliding it into the ring.]

FH: And Detson is thinking, as everyone else is preoccupied he's
bringing in the ladder to win the match.

[Detson begins to set the ladder up but before he can Daniels rushes
forward and catches him with a running knee sending him crashing to
the mat. Flores powers Gionet up onto his shoulder and drives him into
the mat with a powerslam. Nevermind maintains his choke hold on Hartt
and tosses the smaller man up and over onto the ring apron. Nevermind
grabs the turnbuckle cover and pulls it off revealing the steel
underneath.]

FH: Nevermind grabs the head of Hartt and is trying to slam it into
the steel.

[Hartt places his foot on the steel ring post blocking Nevermind's
attempt. Hartt quickly fires off a knife edge chop to the chest of the
big man. Hartt with a second one and a third and Nevermind releases
Hartt's head. Hartt quickly grabs the head of Nevermind and leaps off
the apron to the floor below clotheslining Nevermind across the top
rope. Flores attempts to drop a fist onto the head of Gionet but he
rolls to the side and Flores slams his hand into the mat. Daniels
pulls Detson back to his feet and takes his over with a snap suplex.]


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"


FH: Daniels snap suplexing Detson across the ladder.

CL: Look at the pain upon Detson's face.

[Foley has forced Nevermind into the corner and drives a series of
right hands into the mid-section of the big man and then grabs the
right arm of Nevermind.]

CL: Foley looking for an Irish whip. But Nevermind reverses it and
Foley slams chest first into the exposed steel!

[Foley staggers back a step but Nevermind charges forward and connects
with a clothesline forcing him back into the corner. Hartt climbs back
onto the ring apron and as he does so Gionet rushes forward and
catches him with an elbow to the face. Hartt teeters back but grabs
the top rope and Gionet quickly locks on a front chancery and suplexes
him back into the ring. Daniels grabs Hartt as Gionet stands to his
feet and whips him to the far side. Hartt rebounds off of the ropes
and Daniels backbody drops him. As Hartt rotates in the air Gionet
catches him and powerbombs him!]

FH: What teamwork!

[Nevermind grabs the head of Foley and begins to slam it into the
exposed steel.]

FH: Foley meeting the steel! I love it!

[The crowd gasps as Foley is busted open. Blood begins to flow from
his forehead as Nevermind just tosses him to the side and glares at
Hartt who is down upon the mat. As Gionet reaches to pull Hartt up
Nevermind rushes forward and clips him with an elbow. Gionet stumbles
back and Daniels grabs Nevermind and catches him with a right hand,
but Nevermind fires back and Daniels is rocked right into a right hand
from Detson who is once again back to his feet.]

FH: And Danny Daniels is looking like a pinball right now as Nevermind
drills him with a right and Detson with a right and now Gionet getting
into it as he catches Daniels with a right hand!

[Daniels staggers back and forth between the three men who kept
peppering him with right hands. Finally Nevermind just grabs Daniels
by the throat and tosses him over the top rope to the floor!]


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


FH: What a display of power from the king of nothing!

CL: And here comes Dan Flores! Flores just tackled Gionet sending him
crashing into the ring ropes!



"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


CL: Both men tumble to the floor!

FH: We've got Hartt, Flores and Gionet on the floor! Foley busted open
in the ring and Nevermind is making his way to the floor leaving just
Detson standing in the ring!

[Detson grabs the ladder and sets it up in the center of the ring. The
crowd begins to boo as Johnny Detson begins to climb the ladder. Caleb
Foley pulls himself to his feet and ascends to the top rope. On the
outside Gionet tattoos Flores with a nasty right hand and he quickly
spins around catching Daniels with a stiff back hand that sends him to
the guardrail. Nevermind grabs Chris Hartt and hoists him onto his
shoulder.]

CL: Foley is on the top rope!

FH: And Detson is halfway up the ladder!

[Foley leaps and catches the ladder with a missile dropkick. As the
ladder begins to fall Detson leaps off to avoid taking a heinous
fall.]

FH: Damn that bleeding freak! He just kept Detson from making it to
the briefcase.

[Foley slowly pushes his way back to his feet as Detson glares at
him.]


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"


CL: Nevermind just dropped Chris Hartt face first across the
ringsteps!

FH: Detson with a knee lift on Foley sending him to his back.

[Detson sets the ladder up in the corner as Nevermind grabs the back
of Hartt's head and once again slams it into the ring steps. Gionet
catches Flores with another right hand and quickly scoops him up and
bodyslams him onto the concrete floor. The crowd begins to roar in
anticipation as Gionet reaches underneath the ring apron.]

CL: What's Gionet looking for?

[The crowd explodes as Gionet pulls out a table.]

FH: The Warrior has a table!

CL: Oh this can't be good.

[Detson grabs the arm of Foley pulling him to his feet and quickly
whips him hard into the ladder. The impact sends Foley crashing to the
mat and the ladder drops on him. Hartt drives an elbow into the mid-
section of Nevermind creating some separation and he grabs Nevermind's
head ...]



"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"


CL: Nevermind's turn to eat the steel!

FH: Daniels rushing Gionet ...


[The crowd ohhs as Daniels is backbody dropped hard to the floor.
Gionet grabs Flores head and slams it into the table. Flores catches
Gionet with an elbow but Gionet again slams his head into the table
and then drives the point of his elbow into the back of his head. In
the ring Detson has pulled the ladder up and drives it into the mid-
section of Foley and then hard into his head.]

FH: YES! Detson is taking apart Foley in the ring with the ladder.

CL: Gionet is now standing on the table and he has Flores up there
with him. Gionet drives his knee into the mid-section of Flores
doubling him over.

[Gionet pulls Flores while he sits back, pulling the bent opponent's
head down to the mat between the wrestler's thighs.]


"___CCCRRRAAASSSHHH___"


CL: Stump-puller piledriver!

FH: Dan Flores was taken right through that table!

[The crowd is stunned as Flores and Gionet are tied up in the wreckage
of the table. Gionet slowly pushes himself away from the mess as Hartt
attempts to whip Nevermind into the guardrail. Nevermind though
reverses it and Hartt slams into the guardrail. Daniels pushes himself
up and looks at Flores laying in the wreckage of the table. He charges
towards Gionet and catches him with a shoulder block that sends Gionet
to the floor.]

FH: The brawls continue on the outside as Detson pulls Foley up and
slams him across the ladder.

[Detson stomps on Foley and then heads towards the turnbuckles.]

FH: What is Detson doing?

CL: He's climbing to the top rope. Daniels has mounted Gionet and is
raining down right hands. Nevermind whips Hartt from the guardrail
into the ring apron and now he's glaring at a piece of table.

FH: Detson is on the top rope ...

[Flash bulbs pop as Detson leaps ...]



"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"



FH: THE SHOWSTOPPER MISSED!

CL: Foley rolled off of the ladder and Detson slams back first onto
it! Detson missed that senton!

[Detson grabs his back in pain as the bloodied Foley slowly pushes
himself to his feet. On the outside Nevermind has grabbed a piece of
the table and begins to dig it into the forehead of Hartt. Gionet
shoves Daniels off of him and both men are to their feet.]

FH: Hartt busted wide open! Nevermind is sick!

CL: No sicker than Cole or Craven.

FH: Still! And now he just tosses the table to the side and is just
raining down right hands.

[Blood flows from the head of Hartt as Nevermind just drills him in
the forehead with right hands. Gionet catches Daniels with a right
hand and quick kick below the belt. The crowd moans as Daniels doubles
over. Gionet grabs Daniels and tosses him head first into the
guardrail. Daniels slumps down and Gionet quickly pulls him back to
his feet.]


CL: Foley is using the bottom rope to slowly pull himself back to his
feet.

FH: Gionet charges and clotheslines Daniels over the guardrail into
the crowd!

[Larry glares at Daniels for a moment before turning towards the ring.
Foley reaches up the second rope and continues to try and pull himself
back to his feet. Gionet pulls another table out from under the ring
and sets it up near the corner turnbuckles.]

CL: Foley is back to his feet and he rolls Detson off of the ladder
and he's slowly setting it up under the briefcase.

[Gionet looks up from the table and sees Foley climbing the ladder, he
slides under the bottom rope. He charges the ladder and the crowd
screams loudly causing Foley to look.]

CL: Foley leaps and catches the charging Gionet with a double-axe
handle.

[Foley begins to stomp away at his former friend. Gionet though pushes
his way back to his feet and drills Foley with a low blow. He grabs
Foley and sends him hard int othe corner near where he set the table
up on the outside.]


FH: Gionet is now lifting Foley up onto the top turnbuckle.

CL: What can be going through Gionet's mind?

FH: That he hates the backstabber Foley.

[Foley is sitting on the top rope and Gionet is now standing behind
him on the second. Gionet lifts Foley up and like a cat positions
himself on the top rope as well.]

FH: Gionet pulls Foley up and turns him around.

[The crowd buzzes as Foley is set in the powerbomb position.]

CL: You have to be kidding me! He could kill Foley if he does this!
[Gionet looks at the table below him but before he can lift Foley,
Foley shoves him to the mat back first.]

CL: Thank god.

FH: Only you think that's a good thing.

[On the outside Hartt catches Nevermind with a thumb to the eye and
shoves him back away from him trying to catch his breath. Hartt runs
his hands over his face in an attempt to whip away the blood. Danny
Daniels has grabbed a front row seat and is chatting with a few fans.
Foley leaps from the top rope and drives an elbow into the chest of
Gionet.]

CL: What is Daniels doing?

FH: Ummmm ... getting to know the Arizona faithful?

[Daniels nods his head and takes some popcorn and pops it in his mouth
as Hartt rushes forward taking Nevermind off of his feet with a
leaping clothesline. In the ring Foley pulls Gionet to his feet and
connects with a shoulder breaker. Chris Hartt slides into the ring and
grabs Gionet. Hartt motions for Foley to go to the top rope. Foley
glares at Hartt for a moment but nods his head.]

CL: Gionet whipped into the ropes and Hartt takes him down with a
spinning heel kick. Gionet down and Foley leaps ... Irish Eyes are
Smiling! Gionet was just nailed with the four fifty splash!

[Gionet is down in the ring as Foley slowly pushes himself to his
feet. Hartt turns and makes his way to the towards the ladder. On the
outside Danny Daniels has put on a Rojo Corazón mask and is standing
on his feet cheering as Chris Hartt makes his way to the ladder.
Nevermind slides back into the ring and Johnny Detson is once again on
his feet.]

CL: Hartt is ascending the ladder ...
[Detson grabs the leg of Hartt but Hartt kicks him hard into the head
sending him crashing to the mat once again. Foley is taken to the mat
from behind by Nevermind with a running elbow.]

FH: Nevermind grabs Foley and places him on his shoulder ...

[Nevermind charges forward ...]


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG____"


CL: Nevermind used Foley's head as a battering ram and brought the
ladder and Hartt crashing down to the mat!

FH: And now Nevermind is pressing Foley up ...

CL: And he drops him on Chris Hartt.

[The crowd boos as their two heroes are a bloodied mess on the canvas.
Daniels rips off the Rojo Corazón mask and tosses it to the ground in
frustration. He sits back down and eats some more popcorn as Detson is
back to his feet and rushes forward grabbing the head of Nevermind and
sending him crashing to the mat with a one handed bulldog.]

CL: Nevermind rolls towards the ring apron as Detson once again looks
at the ladder.

FH: He knows it's his destiny to become mister called shot and he's
going to achieve that right now.

[Detson is climbing the ladder as Nevermind is ascending to the top
rope.]

FH: What is the monster doing?

CL: He's on the top rope and Detson is reaching for the briefcase!

[Flashbulbs erupt throughout the arena as Nevermind leaps and wipes
out the ladder and Johnny Detson with a flying bodypress.]

FH: MY LORD! It's a twisted mess of flesh and steel!

CL: Detson is under the ladder and the right leg and arm of Nevermind
is tangled in the ladder.

[Chris Hartt stands to his feet and begins to just stomp away at the
trapped Nevermind. The crowd cheers wildly as Hartt drives his knee
into the arm of Nevermind.]

FH: And Hartt is like a rabid dog attacking a trapped squirrel.

[Detson slowly pulls himself out from the wreckage towards the ropes
as Hartt rips the ladder off of Nevermind and just throws it on him.
Hartt pulls the ladder up and begins to set it up under the
briefcase.]

CL: This match has been pure chaos! There's bodies everywhere!

FH: It's carnage everywhere but the bloodied Chris Hartt is at the
base of the ladder and is beginning the long claim to the top!

[The crowd roars as 'The Paladin' slowly begins to climb the ladder
rung by rung. Johnny Detson grabs the bottom rope and tries to pull
himself back to his feet but as he grabs the middle rope he slumps to
the mat once again. The crowd begins to clap loudly as Hartt reaches
the middle of the ladder.]

CL: And Chris Hartt is closing in on the briefcase!

FH: The gash on his forehead is slowing him down as he wipes the blood
from his eyes!

[The crowd boos loudly as the King of Nothing begins to climb the
other side of the ladder.]

FH: Nevermind is somehow making his way up the ladder now!

CL: He is driven by his hate for Chris Hartt right now!

[The crowd cheers loudly as Hartt continues his way up the ladder as
does Nevermind. Hartt is the first man to the top of the ladder and
reaches up for the briefcase ...]

CL: Hartt reaching for the briefcase ... but he can't get a full grip
on
it!

FH: Even the briefcase doesn't want Hartt to win the Called Shot!

[The briefcase swings above the head of Hartt who once again reaches
for it but Nevermind is now near the top of the ladder and drives a
right hand into the head of Chris Hartt. The Paladin is rocked but
maintains his grip on top rung of the ladder. Nevermind drives another
massive right hand into the head of Hartt, who teeters back, and then
he reaches up and grabs the briefcase.]

FH: Nevermind has the briefcase in his hand! All he needs to do is
pull it down ...

[Nevermind shoves the briefcase forward ...]


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


FH: And he drives the briefcase into the bloodied skull of Hartt.

CL: Hartt is teetering on the ladder! And Nevermind again slams the
briefcase into the head of Hartt!


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


FH: Somehow Hartt is still on the ladder.

CL: It's cause he has heart, Fred.

FH: Really? Hartt has heart ... pure genius there, Chip. As Hartt is
hanging on for life on the ladder, Detson is making it back to his
feet as he pulls himself up with the second rope.

[As the briefcase slams off of Hartt's head blood flies in all
directions. Nevermind winds up and slams his fist into the head of
Hartt once, twice and a third time.]

CL: Hartt is teetering on the ladder!

FH: Nevermind reaches forward and grabs Hartt by his hair ...


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


FH: And he slams it hard into the top rung of the ladder!

[Nevermind grabs the head of Hartt and locks on a front chancery, he
begins to life Hartt up.]

CL: Nevermind looking for a vertical suplex.

[Nevermind has Hartt hoisted into the air and somehow manages to
maintain his balance for on the ladder which is teetering side to
side. Nevermind drops to the mat ...]

CL: Brainbuster! Nevermind spikes The Paladin into the mat with that
brainbuster from the ladder!

[The crowd is moaning in sympathy as Nevermind slowly pushes himself
back to his feet. Hartt rolls on the mat grabbing his head and neck.]

CL: Nevermind is getting back to his feet ...


"___SSSMMMAAACCCKKK___"


FH: Johnny Kick! The CEO blindsided Nevermind and caught him with that
superkick!

[As Nevermind falls to the mat Detson begins to crawl towards the
ladder.]

FH: The President and CEO of the PVW has the bottom rung of the ladder
and is beginning to start the long climb to the top! Come on Detson!

[As Detson pulls himself back to his feet and begins to climb the
ladder the bloodied Caleb Foley slides under the bottom rope into the
ring.]

CL: Foley is back in the ring!

FH: He's still alive? I thought he lost so much blood he joined his
daddy ...

CL: Fred!

[Slowly Johnny Detson pulls himself up the ladder as Caleb Foley
stumbles forward to the ladder. As Detson continues to pull himself up
the ladder Foley reaches up and grabs the leg of Detson to the thrill
of the crowd, which explodes as Detson's progress is halted. Detson
kicks wildly as he tries to free his leg from Foley's grasp.]

CL: Detson able to free his leg but Foley ascending the ladder as
well!

[Foley climbs up the ladder behind Detson, getting to the rung Detson
is upon and he reaches behind Detson's back to hook the his head with
the other hand extending the Detson's nearest arm.]


"___TTTHHHUUUMMMPPP___"


CL: Modified Russian Leg Sweep from the ladder! Both men are down!

FH: Damn that red headed freak! Detson was going to be Mr. Called
Shot!

[As the blood continues to drop from the head of Foley to the mat he
grabs the ladder and closes it and drops it onto the prone figure of
Detson. The crowd cheers as he stomps on the ladder and points to the
top rope. The crowd screams as the youngster begins to ascend to the
top. Chris Hartt pulls himself back to his feet as Nevermind pushes
himself up. Larry Gionet slides into the ring as Foley thrusts both
his arms into the air.]

CL: Foley on the top rope as Nevermind drives his forearm into the
face of Hartt.

FH: Nevermind has had one goal tonight and that is the utter
destruction of Chris Hartt!

[Nevermind applies a front facelock while he places their heads side
by side under each other's shoulder and uses his free hand to grab
hold of the Hartt's far hand before then swinging over the Hartt and
down to the ground, in a semi-circular motion.]

FH: Homewrecker! Nevermind with the swinging neckbreaker ...

CL: And Foley leaps ...

[Foley extends his arms to the side as he leaps off of the top rope
with a splash, Gionet though leaps applying a three-quarter facelock.]

FH: Gionet with a leaping cutter on Foley!


"___TTTHHHUUUMMMPPP___"


CL: Foley driving across the ladder with the leaping cutter and Detson
crushed under the ladder!

[Gionet stands with a smirk on his face and spits on the back of Foley
before he pulls him off of the ladder. Gionet bends Foley over and
drives his knees into the head of Foley. The crowd boos loudly as
Foley crashes to the mat after the fifth knee. Gionet stomps on Foley
and grabs the ladder setting it up under the briefcase, as he does
Nevermind grabs Chris Hartt and tosses him over the top rope to the
floor.]

FH: Gionet is looking to be Mr. Called Shot now as he begins to climb
the ladder!

CL: Nevermind glares at Hartt on the floor for a moment.

[As the crowd boos loudly at Gionet, as he ascends the ladder,
Nevermind spins around and runs up to the ladder, wraps his arms
around it, then fall backwards to the mat. As he falls backwards the
ladder begins to go down, Gionet grabs the ladder as if hanging on for
his life.]

FH: Timber!

[The ladder bounces off the top rope dumping Gionet to the ringside
floor.]


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


CL: Gionet hits the floor with a sickening thud! And Nevermind is back
up and places the ladder in the center of the ring.

FH: And here goes the king of nothing up the ladder.

[Suddenly Danny Daniels jumps the guardrail and slides under the
bottom rope back into the fray.]

FH: And Our Hero is back in the mix!

CL: I thought he was taken out of the match ...

FH: I think he was eating popcorn in the front row as the rest of them
put themselves through hell!

[The crowd cheers as Daniels rushes forward and begins to climb the
ladder. AS he gets behind Nevermind he drives his elbow into the back
of Nevermind and then puts both of their hands round Nevermind's head
for a rear chin lock or on both of the Nevermind's shoulders while
jumping up to place both his knees against Nevermind's back.]


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


[ROARING HIGH SPOT POP!]


D O U B L E   D A N ! ! !   D O U B L E   D A N ! ! !


D O U B L E   D A N ! ! !   D O U B L E   D A N ! ! !


CL: Backstabber off of the ladder!

[As Nevermind lands upon the mat, Daniels rolls to the side and grabs
a hold of his knees.]

FH: I honestly think that may have done just as much damage to Danny
Daniels as Nevermind is nearly two hundred and seventy-five pounds!

[The referee on the floor checks on Chris Hartt as he slowly reaches
up and grabs the ring apron. Another referee has rushed to the
ringside area to check on Gionet who lays motionless on the floor. Dan
Flores has finally pushed himself out of the wreckage of the table and
shakes the cobwebs from his head as in the ring Foley pulls Detson to
his knees.]

[LOW BLOW MOAN!]

CL: And Detson with a cheap shot on Foley!


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"


FH: Detson DDTS Foley! Bleed some more you snot nose punk!

CL: Fred!

FH: What?

[Detson looks at the ladder and slowly makes his way towards it
holding his chest in pain as he does so. Flores slides under the
bottom rope, as the crowd continues to boo, as Detson grabs a hold of
the ladder.]

FH: I'm amazed Flores is even walking after that piledriver through
the table!

CL: He's ascending the ladder opposite Detson and we a have a race!

[The arena buzzes as both men make it to the top of the ladder and
look across at one another. Detson swings a wild left hand that
connects to the side of Flores head. Flores swings a left of his own
and Detson is rocked, but Detson with another left hand and Flores
exchanges right back with one of his own.]

CL: The two are men are swinging bombs on top of the ladder!

[With each impact from the trading punches the ladder shakes back and
forth.]

FH: Here is one of the most dangerous places a wrestler can be.
Standing vulnerable at the top of the ladder.  Many men in other
occupations have been paralyzed falling from a ladder.  Yet these men
fight their way up and take huge falls back down.

[Detson fires off two unanswered left hands and grabs the head of
Flores and slams it hard into the top of the ladder. Detson maintains
his grip on Flores and twists himself on the ladder and leaps ...]


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


FH: One-handed bulldog from the CEO of the PVW! Flores pretty little
mug is slammed into the mat!

CL: That's twice now Detson was inches from winning this match but
once again is down on the mat looking up at the briefcase.

[Detson pushes himself to his feet as does Danny Daniels. Daniels
spins Detson around and grabs him and whips him hard into the ladder
sending it crashing to the mat. As Detson staggers back he slowly
turns around and Daniels and catches him and lifts him onto his
shoulder.]


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"


CL: Danny Daniels powerslams the self proclaimed CEO onto the ladder!
And he follows up with a knee drop across his chest.

[Hartt has pulled himself up to his feet and slowly pulls himself onto
the ring apron. Nevermind though is also up and charges forward
slamming a nasty forearm into the face of Hartt sending him backwards
off the apron ...]


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"


[Directly into the guardrail. Nevermind doesn't miss a beat as he runs
to the far side ropes.]

FH: Nevermind is gaining a head of steam ... OH MY GOD!


[SHOCK POP!]

[Nevermind leaps between the top and middle ropes and crashes into
Chris Hartt.]

CL: Nevermind with a suicide plancha! Nevermind wiped out Chris Hartt!

FH: And probably himself! A two hundred and seventy five pound missile
is what that was!

[As Nevermind and Hartt lay in tangled mess on the floor Danny Daniels
hops onto the second turnbuckle and leaps towards Johnny Detson.]

FH: TOODLES~! The man so nice they named him twice just connected with
his diving headbutt onto the CEO! What a same it wasn't Foley!

[Daniels rolls off of Detson as Foley pushes himself to his feet.
Gionet shows signs of life as he slowly sits up, but he appears to be
on dream street as the referee continues to check on him.]

CL: Only Foley is on his feet right now!

FH: Boo!

[Foley drops a quick elbow into the chest of Detson before shoving him
off of the ladder. The crowd cheers wildly as Foley sets the ladder up
in the center of the ring once again. Flores is back to his feet and
drives a forearm into the back of Foley forcing him into the ladder.]

CL: Side Russian leg sweep takes Foley to the mat in a hurry.

FH: And Flores isn't wasting a moment as he once again begins to climb
the ladder.

[Foley though is back to his feet fairly quickly and ascends up the
ladder right behind Flores.]

CL: Foley is able to place Flores on his shoulders ...

FH: But Flores climbs up another few rungs and reaches for the
briefcase!

CL: Unfortunately it is just out of his reach. Foley once again has
him on his shoulders and grabs Flores legs. And Foley climbs another
rung ...

FH: And he's putting Flores closer to the briefcase!

[The crowd cheers as Flores gets his hands on the briefcase but Foley
drops back sending both men crashing to the mat, the briefcase slips
from Flores' grip and stays upon it's hook.]

"___TTTHHHUUUMMMPPP___"


CL: Electric chair drop! Foley and Flores are done!

FH: Every time someone has the briefcase in their hands it's ripped
away from them!

[Foley pushes himself back to his feet as does Flores. Foley makes his
way towards the ladder but Flores grabs him by the arm and attempts an
Irish whip. Foley slams on the brakes and reverses the whip, as he
reverses it Daniels gets back to his feet and Gionet shoves away the
official and grabs the ring apron pulling himself to his feet. Flores
rebounds off of the ropes and Foley catches him and rotates sending
Flores crashing to the mat with a vicious spinebuster. Foley pops up
as Daniels charges him ...]

CL: Daniels is caught by Foley and he is met with a spinebuster!

FH: Gionet slides into the ring and rushes Foley ...

[Foley catches him as well and delivers a massive sit-out
spinebuster.]

CL: Delivery from Dublin!

[The crowd cheers madly as Foley is quick to his feet. He drops a fist
in between the eyes of Gionet and thrusts his arms into the air as the
crowd roars their approval.]

CL: Caleb Foley back to his feet and he stares at the ladder!

FH: If he had a brain he would running up the ladder not staring at
it.

[As if in response to Hoyle, Foley begins to climb up the ladder. Half
way up he looks over his shoulder at Gionet who is still down.
Nevermind slides under the bottom rope as Chris Hartt follows him.
Foley pauses for a long moment.]

CL: I wonder what is running through Foley's mind right now?

FH: Probably if I take that briefcase I'll be setting myself up for
another failure!

[Foley executes a backflip, as he does so flashbulbs pop throughout
the arena and Foley connects with the chest of Larry Gionet. Foley
gets to his feet once again and pounds his chest with right arm as the
crowd roars their approval. Foley turns around and begins to is nearly
decapitated by a monstrous clothesline from the king of nothing,
Nevermind.]

CL: Nevermind heading to the ladder and Hartt drills him from behind
with a forearm.

FH: That barely budges the big man. Nevermind turns around and grabs
Hartt by the throat!

[In a feat of strength he heaves Hartt into the ladder sending the
ladder crashing to the mat with Hartt on top of it. Nevermind punts
the ribs of Hartt as he tries to force himself back to his feet.
Nevermind glares at the ladder and closes before lifting it into the
air and driving into the back of Hartt. Hartt sprawls onto the mat and
slowly rolls onto his back ...]


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"


CL: My god! Nevermind just slamming the top of the ladder into the
forehead of Hartt! And the blood is just gushing out!

[Hartt can barely move his arms to block another shot from the ladder,
blood dripping onto the canvas as Nevermind tosses the ladder at the
charging Flores.]


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"



FH: And a ladder for Flores!

[The ladder crashes into Flores and sends him into the mat. Nevermind
grabs Flores pulling him to his feet and powerslams him hard into the
ladder.]


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


FH: I'm stunned this ladder is still in one piece after all the abuse
it has been taking.

[Nevermind shoves Flores off of the ladder and pulls it up and slams
it on the prone the figure of Chris Hartt. Nevermind steps two of the
rungs of the ladder pressing Hartt between the ladder and the mat.]

CL: Nevermind is a beast!

FH: He really is and he seems to really only want to hurt Hartt
tonight. I mean we've seen him go for the briefcase but it has not
been is main goal.

[Nevermind pulls Hartt up off of the canvas and military presses him
into the air ...]


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


CL: Hartt dropped from the military press onto the ladder.

FH: Look at the blood pool on the mat. I never thought I would see
someone bleed more than Caleb Foley!

[Nevermind slides under the bottom rope and grabs another ladder
sliding it into the ring. The crowd cheers for the second ladder.]

FH: These fans are rabid! The more furniture that is wrecked the happy
they are.

CL: Nevermind is back into the ring and he's setting up the second
ladder.

[Larry Gionet has slowly pulled himself back to his feet and glances
around at all the bodies on the mat. Nevermind has set the ladder up
and moves back towards the figure of Hartt. As he bends over to pull
Hartt back up Gionet wraps his arms around the neck and head of
Nevermind.]

CL: Gionet with a sleeper hold on Nevermind! The self-proclaimed PVW
Warrior ...

FH: Self-proclaimed? Weren't you the one who gave him that nickname?

CL: I gave that nickname to a man not the rat that's in the ring right
now.

[Nevermind's arms begin to flay about as Gionet tightens his gip on
his sleeper hold.

FH: It's taken a long time but someone has finally figure out that the
easiest way to beat Nevermind is to knock him out!

[The bigger Nevermind though continues to fight as he powers Gionet
backwards towards the ladder. Gionet is forced into the ladder and he
places his feet on the bottom rung.]

CL: Gionet climbing the ladder backwards.

FH: He's on the third rung and this is genius. He's now able to get
all his weight over Nevermind and is finally negating his size
advantage. Gionet suddenly leaps off of the ladder sending it
backwards, as he do so he places his knees in back of Nevermind and
falls backwards.]

CL: A modified backstabber!

FH: Didn't he learn anything from when Daniels did that?

[Unlike Daniels, Gionet is able to get back to his feet but as he does
so ...]


"___SSSMMMAAACCCKKK___"


FH: Johnny kick! I didn't even see the CEO get back to his feet.

CL: And neither did Gionet who is now counting the lights! Danny
Daniels is back to his feet as well!

[Danny Daniels grabs Detson by the arm and spins him around and seizes
him in a head-and-shoulder hold as in a side slam, and grabs Detson's
upper thigh with his free arm, and then falls backwards and throws him
overhead down to the mat on his shoulders and upper back, in the same
motion as a belly-to-belly.]

CL: Exploder suplex! Danny Daniels folded the CEO up like an accordion
with that suplex!

D A N I E L S ! ! !   D A N I E L S ! ! !


D A N I E L S ! ! !   D A N I E L S ! ! !


CL: And these fans are loving Danny Daniels tonight. Well they
probably just loved seeing Detson dropped on his head.

FH: They're all evil! Evil I tell you.

[As Daniels stands to his feet Caleb Foley has gotten back to his feet
and Dan Flores grabs him by the arm and whips him across the ring,
Daniels turns around ...]

CL: Spear! Spear! Spear! Flores with an assist with the whip but Danny
Daniels was just speared out of his boots by Foley! Standing moonsault
by Foley!


F O L E Y ! ! !   F O L E Y ! ! !


F O L E Y ! ! !   F O L E Y ! ! !


FH: Fickle fans.

CL: Foley is setting the ladder up again and he ducks a clothesline
from Flores ... hangman's neckbreaker! Flores is down and the Celtic
Crippler kips up!

[The crowd roars as Foley points to the briefcase and begins to climb
the ladder. Dan Flores though rolls to his stomach and pushes his way
back to his feet.]

CL: And Caleb is half way up the ladder.

[Flores reaches the ladder and puts his back up against it. He reaches
up hooking Foley's legs.]

FH: Flores has Foley!

[Flores takes three steps forward ...]

FH: Sit-out powerbomb! Foley's dreams of the briefcase once again
ripped away from him!


"___CCCRRRAAACCCKKK___"


FH: Yakuza kick! Nevermind from out of nowhere cleans the clock of
Flores.

CL: Flores looks as though he has been shot.

FH: The carnage continues to pile up and Nevermind is once again
looking at the briefcase. Can the king of nothing be thinking that he
will finally get the briefcase?

[Chris Hartt tries to push himself off of the mat as Danny Daniels has
rolling to the ring apron. Larry Gionet lays slumped near the corner
as Foley and Flores lay near the feet of Nevermind, who begins to
climb the ladder.]

FH: Here we go the king of nothing will soon be Mr. Called Shot!

[The crowd screams as Chris Hartt has pushed himself to his feet. He
staggers back a few steps into the ring ropes and tries to wipe the
blood from his eyes but all he does is spread the crimson mask.]

CL: Hartt is to his feet!

FH: Who cares Nevermind is climbing the ladder.

[With a sudden burst of adrenaline Hartt rushes forward and leaps
catching Nevermind in the back with a forearm. Nevermind's progress up
the ladder is halted and Hartt uses the moment to climb the ladder.]

CL: Hartt is on the ladder ... hell Hartt is on the back of Nevermind
and he's applying a crossface! Can he really be trying for it on the
ladder?

[Hartt uses his right arm to chickenwing the right arm of Nevermind.]

CL: The AVENGER! Hartt has the avenger locked on Nevermind on the
ladder!

[The crowd roars their approval as Chris Hartt has the avenger locked
in. Nevermind continues to grip the ladder with his left arm as Chris
Hartt applies a body scissors.]

CL: And he really locks it on with body scissors!

FH: Look at the ladder sway from Hartt's insane jerking.

CL: He's trying to bring Nevermind off of the ladder.

FH: He's trying to injure Nevermind!

CL: Look at the blood flowing from Hartt can you blame him?


H A R T T  ! ! !      H A R T T  ! ! !


H A R T T  ! ! !      H A R T T  ! ! !


[The first ever Rising Phoenix Heritage champion keeps the avenger
locked on as Nevermind screams madly. Gionet pulls himself to his feet
as Johnny Detson slowly crawls towards the other side of the
ladder.Gionet climbs to the top rope as Daniels also gets back to his
feet on the ring apron. In a fluid motion Daniels shoves Gionet off of
the top rope ...]


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"

CL: Gionet into the steel guardrail!

FH: Thanks to Danny Daniels!

[Daniels looks at the top rope and slowly begins to ascend to the
top.]

FH: Don't do it Danny! Stay on the ground.

[Danny is on the top rope and Foley stands to his feet. He rushes
towards Daniels and catches him with a right hand and a second right
hand. As Daniels staggers on the top rope Foley ascends and joins him
there. Daniels connects with a swift elbow rocking the youngster.]

CL: We have a battle on the top rope as Nevermind is somehow someway
still holding onto the ladder.

FH: And Detson is slowly pulling himself up the other side of the
ladder.

[Daniels drives another elbow into the side of Foley's head and
quickly seizes it.]

CL: Daniels grabs a hold of Foley's head and now both men are standing
on the top rope ...

[In a fluid motion  Daniels grabs upper thigh with his free arm, and
then falls backwards and throws him overhead down to the mat on his
shoulders and upper back, in the same motion as a belly-to-belly.]


"___CCCRRRAAASSSHHH___"


CL: HEROPLEX! OH LORD! Daniels and Foley crashed through that table
Gionet set-up earlier in the match!

FH: He wanted to send Foley crashing through it earlier and what do
you know he still goes through it!

CL: Foley, Gionet, Daniels and Flores are all down and Nevermind is
barely holding onto that ladder as Hartt refuses to release the
avenger.

[Detson has ascended to the top of the ladder and he begins to fire
off right hand after right hand into the forehead of Nevermind.]

FH: And the CEO is drilling Nevermind!

CL: The ladder is teetering and no so is Nevermind!


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


FH: Nevermind and Hartt fall to the mat with the two hundred and
seventy pound Nevermind lands on The Paladin!

[The ladder continues to sway for a few moments and Detson holds on
with a death grip.]

CL: The ladder is rocking!

FH: But it's not falling! And Detson reaches up he grabs for the
briefcase!

[Detson cannot get a grip on the briefcase on his first attempt but he
reaches up again and grabs the briefcase.]

FH: He's got it and he's lifting it off of the hook!

[Detson rips at the briefcase pulling it off of the hook and the crowd
rains a massive chorus of boos as Johnny Detson thrusts the briefcase
high in the air!]

FH: YES! THE CEO AND PRESIDENT OF THE PVW HAS DONE IT!

CL: NO!

FH: YES, CHIP, YES! You are looking at Mr. Called Shot Johnny Detson!


*DING*DING*DING*


HD: Ladies and gentlemen your winner and new holder of the Called Shot
...


!!! JOHNNY DETSON !!!


[The camera goes to a wide shot of Johnny Detson holding the called
shot briefcase high in the air with the carnage in the ring below
him.]

FH: There is our new, Mr. Called Shot.  PVW President ... PVW CEO ...
The Blockbuster ... Mr. Hollywood ... And now Mr. Called Shot!

CL: Johnny Detson has found a way to some how survive and he has
captured the Called Shot.

FH: Go straight to the Championship committee's office and cash that
sucker in, Johnny!

[Detson holds the briefcase as he stands in the center of the carnage.
The fans continue to give the thumbs down amongst other things towards
the man who now holds nearly all the cards.  A smile forms across the
worn out warrior's face as he slides out of the ring.]

FH: There is the walk of a soon to be champion, Chip.

CL: Ring Crew, officials, and EMT's are headed down to try and bring
some order back to the ring.  In the mean time let's send it back to
the newest member of PVW's announce crew; Sir Tyler Holbridge.

FH: We have a new backstage interviewer?

CL: Dean Hayes is overextended.  Also he's been bullied a few times by
Tyler's guest.

[Cut to a graying gentleman in a tuxedo standing before a PVW banner.
He is of average height and an almost stuffy air of respectability
around him.  As he speaks, he does so with an over-enunciated English
accent that simply reeks of class.]

TH: Greetings and welcome.  As previously stated I am "Sir" Tyler
Holbridge, so named as I was knighted by the Queen in the year of our
Lord 1997.  Personal introductions aside, please allow me now to
introduce my guest; a man whose serpentine appearance belies a more
bullish physicality.  This ... is William Craven.

[Please note; nobody called him "Sir" previously, it's a passive-
aggressive snipe at Chip Lester.  Entering the scene, for once, it's
Craven's turn to look at someone as he might an alien.]

TH: I welcome you sir, and let me just say that you have quite the
unique set of attributes about you.  I understand that, tonight, you
have a bit of a grudge match against one Robert Cole, also called "The
Outcast".

[Leaning in to lock eyes with Sir Tyler, Craven holds his hands at
bay, almost touching the offered microphone.  As he speaks, Craven's
voice is all spit and gravel but he does his best to sound cheery.]

WC: You understand correctly, my new friend.

TH: Did you know that you share a name with William, the Earl of
Craven who ruled over the district of the same name in the year of--

WC: I don't care.  I don't know where PVW found you, you foppish twit,
but let me give you the real lowdown on what's happening between
myself and "The Outcast".

[Grasping the microphone lightly, Bill seems perhaps less willing to
push this older gentleman around than he would Drew Hayes, but he
seems to bleed hostility nonetheless.]

WC: Imagine your precious queen, cast aside as a stranger took her
place upon the throne.  This pretender has silver hair, a well-aged
face and all the accoutrements befitting royalty and for all intents
and purposes she is the Queen.  But you know better.

TH: I would!  I've met her you know.

[Wow, this guy's truly unflappable if Craven doesn't scare him.]

WC: You don't say?  Aheh, well, you know, and so when the Queen
returns and takes back what was stolen from her ... the people boo.
The people hiss.  It's not that they're fooled it's just that they've
grown used to the idea that this strange woman now so familiar is the
Queen!  This "Outcast", who calls himself "Monster under the Bed" has
carved for himself a niche already occupied by myself ... and although
the fans of PVW realize that he is nothing more than a part-time play
act who goes home to play daddy every night, they still refuse to
accept that a man they now call their hero is not the warrior, not the
_monster_ he pretends to be...

TH: I say, that would be a mite frustrating I would imagine.

[Craven blinks.  Blink blink.]

TH: May I please have my hand back now?

[Okay, so PVW hired the right guy to deal with Craven.  Folding his
arms, Bill prepares to actually have an interview.]

TH: It might surprise you to know that I actually have a nearly
encyclopedic knowledge of you my dear boy, from your escapades in the
Motor City, Atlantic City, right up until now.  Wrestling isn't just a
business ... it's my business.  I know you and virtually any other
wrestler that you might name like the back of my hairy, wrinkled hand.

Now, back to the task at hand.  I won't speak of myself any longer as
it does seem to rankle you.  Understand that my only intention was to
make us more familiar, not to activate some deviant and violent
trigger within your cerebral cortex.

What is it you intend to do tonight, William?  If I may call you such.
Does William Craven intend to end the fifteen-plus-year career of
former World Champion Robert Cole tonight?  What of the family that he
supports?

[Breathing deep, collecting himself, Craven looks down at the composed
and very dignified interviewer

WC: Do I intend to end his career?  Yes, Tyler.  If it takes every
ounce of steel in the arena, every drop of blood in my veins and every
cent in the US Treasury I intend to erase the stain of Rob Cole from
this business.  His family are fine people; I know them rather well.
It's just too bad that they've hitched their wagon to a man whose
worth is roughly that of the average earthworm.

TH: What, exactly, is the crux of your disagreement with Robert Cole?
According to my sources you were the one to begin hostilities with
him.  Do please correct me if I'm wrong but word in the back states
that you've also exacerbated said hostilities when he attempted to
mount a retreat.

WC: The crux?  Aheh.

[The wheels start to crank in Craven's head as he searches for a
perfectly reasonable response to this well-phrased question.]

WC: A better question; why should I let him retreat?  Why should I let
him strategically withdraw only to return when he thinks I've
forgotten about him.  No, Tyler, I refuse.  You have a background in
professional wrestling, I take it?

TH: Indeed sir, although retired now for some twenty years I was, my
day, the champion of all the Britain's.

WC: You understand, then, the sacrifice necessary for most men to be
successful in this business?  I've sacrificed everything.  I have no
one.  My body is a creaking hulk that threatens every day to shut down
even as I rail against it, sometimes speaking aloud that "44 is not
old!"  I lie to myself, Tyler, I lie so that I can continue on for one
more day in pursuit of this throne that has been mine BY RIGHT for, if
not from the first day of my career, certainly the last ten years.

TH: And I am aware that you've never had a match in which the prize
was a world title.  So you would begrudge Robert Cole his status as a
former Champion?

WC: I resent it!  He's sacrificed NOTHING!  He was a fan, abused by a
wrestler, and he parlayed a random act by a true warrior, someone who
had paid dues, into a wrestling career.  He's a father with a loving
son, a husband with a loving wife, a champion a dozen times over and
he's YOUNGER THAN I AM!

TH: Now now, remain calm, I am listening.

[Okay, this guy's not human or something.  Amid the rage of a shark-
toothed, split-tongued titan whose skin is tattooed green, he wears
the face of a patient father figure.]

WC: Listening?  Fine, then listen to this.  Fate has rewarded him with
everything and me with nothing; I've spent half my career blackballed
from any league that would pay a man a decent living.  He is exalted
and I reviled, both for the same reason and in spite of the fact that
whereas he puts on airs I am that which I seem to be.

TH: You are a monster, then?  That is the point you're driving at,
correct?

WC: Not by choice.  Not by pride.

TH: And yet you would take Robert Cole's career?

WC: I would take everything from him Tyler, and I will, tonight.  He
thinks I've done him wrong in the past?  Well ... it gets worse...

[Opening his mouth to speak, Tyler instead snaps back to the camera as
Craven departs.]

TH: A driven man with a complex nature.  This is Tyler Holbridge,
signing off, and sending it back to you Fred and Chip!]

CL: William Craven seems ready to do whatever he has to do to end, Rob
Cole's career.

FH: And what a great favor he will be doing all of us.

CL: Rob Cole has been the go-to man in the PVW since the first day our
doors opened.  With great battles with the Masked Outlaw, Spectre,
Justin Cruise, Chase Williams, and Rick Marley.

FH: And what about William Craven.  He stood toe-to-toe with the
Widowmakers.  He did the unthinkable versus Marcus Manson.  He won
Blood Bowl.

CL: These are two of wrestling's best.  Both men's resume are a mile
long.  Tonight I have a feeling things are going to get out of hand.
Next up we have a bit of an odd match up.  The tag team titles are on
the line as PAIN and Livestock and The Gutch are mixed into opposite
sides.

FH: It's like a bad nightmare.  I don't know _who_ to cheer for!

[The lights go out and red lights begin flashing as ambulance sirens
start blaring throughout the arena.]

HD:  Ladies Gentlemen, the following contest is for the PVW WORLD TAG
TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP!

[The massive forms of Dr. Mal Practice, MD and "Gutch"  burst out from
behind the curtain and storm down to ringside, neither looking the
least bit happy.]

HD:  Making their way down the aisle... MAL AND THE GUTCH!

[As the two enter the ring the sirens fade out.]

HD:  And their opponents...

[The lights dim out in the arena, and spotlights scan the crowd as the
opening notes of "Kungfu Fighting" by Carl Douglas begins
playing throughout the arena.]

#OOOHOHOWOOooaaa...
#OOOHOHOWOOooaaa...

[The Phoenix-tron zooms through a mist covered landscape of mountains
peaking up through the clouds.]

#OOOHOHOWOOooaaa...
#OOOHOHOWOOooaaa...  HA!

[Clouds part, and we find ourselves looking at the Hong Kong cityscape
by night, as a yin-yang symbol forms on the screen.]

#Everybody was Kungfu Fighting!  (Ha)!

[The words "Livedoc" form on the screen, as the spotlights settle on
the entrance ramp where we see Meili and Violet standing doing dual
"Vanna White" gestures as Ohno and Livestock Zappa burst out from
behind the curtain striking kungfu poses.]

#Those kicks were fast as lightening.  (Ha!)
#And it was a little bit frightening. (Ha!)
#But they fought with expert timing.

[The two make their way down the entrance ramp, waving and playing to
the fans, though oddly both seem a bit out of it on this occasion, as
if both are just going through the motions.  Both are tailed by the
lovely ladies, in addition to Ezekial Craven, who is once again, for
some reason, wearing a silk robe and smoking what conspicuously
resembles an opium pipe.]

HD:  INTRODUCING THE PVW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS... LIVEDOC!

CL:  I see they finally settled on a name.

FH:  Hey, they signed an official contract.  It was necessary.

[As the music continues the duo makes their way to the ring, both
sliding in, as the music fades.]


________    _________________________________________________________
|_   __  | .' ___  |
| |_ \_|/ .'   \_|   PVW Tag Team Championship Match:
|  _| _ | |   ____     Livestock and Ohno Ow [c]. The Gutch &
_| |__/ |\ `.___]  |               Mal Practice
|________| `._____.'__________________________________________________



*DING*DING*DING*


CL:  I'm still not quite sure what to make of this match.

FH:  That seems to be the case with most things you see.

CL:  Okay, smart guy, who do you back in this match?

FH:  I... well, Ohno and Livestock are... er... but Mal and Gutch...
I'm SO CONFUSED!

[Ohno and Gutch take their places in their respective corners as Mal
and Livestock take center ring.]

CL:  Unusually clean start it looks like considering the men facing
off in this match.

[The referee pats down Mal first, finding no weapons, then turns to
Livestock...]

*WHAM!*

CL:  And I spoke to soon.  Mal just blindsiding Livestock with a
lariat while the ref was checking his boots.

FH:  Ah, Mal in perfect form as always.

[Not letting Livestock back up, Mal grabs hold of Livestock in a side
headlock, leaning on the lawyer to keep him down.]

CL:  Mal playing smart here.  He's keeping Livestock from moving
around.  He and Gutch can't compete with their ex-partners on speed,
but they've got strength and size on their side.

FH:  Thank you, Captain Obvious.

[Dragging Livestock up, Mal takes a few quick steps... what passes for
a run, and jumps bringing Livestock down with a face-first bulldog.]

FH:  Oooh, he's not going to like that.

[Mal grabs a handful of Livestocks hair and starts to drag him up,
only to have Livestock catch him with a low blow.]

FH:  And Mal didn't like that either.

[Rather than pull back from the blow, Livestock hoists Mal up with all
his strength and drops Mal on his head with a teardrop suplex.]

CL:  A perfectly executed suplex by Livestock Zappa!

[Mal and Livestock begin crawling to their corners.]

CL:  Both men knocked eachother pretty much senseless there.

[Almost simultaneously Livestock and Mal roll to their respective
corners and blindly tag in their partners.]

CL:  Hot tag both sides... Ohno with a running thrust kick to Gutch
before he can even get in the ring!

[Ohno begins kicking away with repeated roundhouse kicks to Gutch's
midsection as the larger man slowly drags himself into the ring
through the kicks.]

FH:  But Ohno can't kick hard enough through the extra padding on
Gutch to take him down.

[Having enough, Gutch simply palms Ohno's head, and pushes/throws him
back halfway across the ring.]

CL:  He just knocked Ohno halfway across the ring with ease!  Entering
the ring at last, Gutch shakes his head, shaking out the cobwebs from
the initial thrust kick as Mal and Livestock pull themselves up
respectively on either side of the ring up against the ropes.]

FH:  Everyone's knocked for a loop.  My bet is Mal cures himself of
spinning head cobweb syndrome first, then Livestock sues Mal on the
grounds he deliberately withheld the cure to increase price before
releasing it to the market.

CL:  The scary thing is that wouldn't surprise me at this point.

[Ohno staggers back to his feet as Gutch, head clear now, lines up and
charges full speed, which isn't saying much, but at his size, full
speed is still a lot of momentum, and outright bowls over Ohno.]

FH:  Ohno's been trampled!  Good thing he can heal himself in time for
the next movie shoot.

CL:  Uh... yeah... what a relief...

[The Gutch grabs hold of Ohno's head, dragging him up and begins
hitting him with repeated headbutts, then wastelocks Ohno, hoists him
up and around, and drops him with a belly-to-belly suplex that shakes
the ring.]

FH:  Uh... I think he can cure that too.

CL:  Maybe not this though.

[The Gutch lines Ohno up in the middle of the ring backs up to the
ropes...]

CL:  The Gutch off the ropes... VERTICAL SPLASH!

*SPLAT!*

FH:  MISS!

[Ohno manages to roll out of the way just in time leaving Gutch
crashing to the empty mat.]

CL:  Ohno handspringing back to his feet... SHINING WIZARD!

[Ohno groggily gets back up lining up another kick as Livestock turns
around, seeing Gutch on one knee arm winding up as Ohno flies,
Livestock charges in...]

FH:  Incoming... WHAT!?

[...and knocks Ohno out of the air with a flying yakuza kick?]

CL:  He just hit his partner!

[Livestock stops, suddenly realizing what he just did, and looks back
and forth at the downed Ohno and an equally surprised Gutch.]

FH:  He forgot whose side he was on!

[As the lawyers, and the ref stand in confusion on what to do now, Mal
turns, seeing the situation, seeing Livestock turned away, grabs him
from behind in a modified sleeper hold...]

CL:  Here it comes!

FH:  Kevorkian Clutch!

[Mal suplexes him back holding and bridging a combination cobra clutch
and German suplex.]

CL:  It's over!

*CRASH!*

CL and FH:  What the-!?

[With the match firmly in hand, Gutch suddenly comes to the aid of his
partner... as in his original one, not Mal.]

FH:  Gutch just hit a big splash on Mal!  They would've been tag team
champions.

CL:  Friendship was more important... for lawyers?

FH:  I know... I'm as surprised as you.

[Livestock and Gutch now both up start kicking away on Mal, as the ref
stands completely dumbfounded by this turn of events.]

CL:  The ref has no idea what to do here.

FH:  Since when is that anything new?

[As the beating continues, Ohno rolls back to his feet, and seeing the
double team flies in with a running jumping scissors kick  to L&G,
followed by a thrustkick to Gutch's groin, then whipping his leg back
the other way hits Livestock right in the face with a roundhouse kick
that sends him crashing down, then dropping and spinning to take Gutch
off his feet with a footsweep.]

CL:  And Ohno to the aid of Mal.

FH:  All is right with universe, again?

CL:  Something like that.

[Livestock scrambles up again and catches Ohno in the back of the head
with a right hook.  Gutch starts to get up, but finds himself stopped
from jumping in as Mal grabs him by the leg.  And then all goes to
hell in an all out brawl with punches and kicks all around.  The
referee, exasperated finally throws up his hands and calls for the
bell.]

*DING*DING*DING*

FH:  That's it?

CL:  There's nothing the ref can do.  This match completely fell apart
on him.

[The four continue trading blows as security comes out in mass doing
their best to break things up, which is nearly impossible with men the
size of Gutch and Mal int he ring.]

HD:  Ladies and gentlemen... the referee has declared this match a NO
CONTEST!

Crowd:  BOOOOOOOOOO!

CL:  The crowds not happy, and can't blame them entirely.  This is a
big letdown for a PPV.  But don't know what else could be done.

FH:  But... who's the champions now?

CL:  I have no idea.

[As the boos rain forth from the crowd, security has finally gotten
between the four men. Dr. Ohno Ow grabs his title belt from the time
keepers table as Livestock and The Gutch glare at the members of
PAIN.]

FH: Well logic would say that Livestock and Ohno Ow should retain but
can they co-exist anymore after what just transpired.

[Dr. Mal Practice shoves the security guards holding him back to the
side and charges forward at Livestock and catching him with a hard
elbow shot.]

CL: And here we go again!

[The crowd cheers as the brawling commences on the outside.]

FH: We're going to need and army to break this up!

[Suddenly Preston Winfield begins walking down the aisleway with a
microphone in hand.]

PW: Gentlemen! Gentlemen!

[The brawling continues as the crowd's attention is drawn to Preston
who has stopped halfway down the aisle.]

PW: Earn your money and break this brawl up!

FH: The PVW Championship committee representative has made his way to
the ring side area and he does not look happy!

PW: Gentlemen! I have an announcement and if I do not get your
attention there will be hell to pay!

[Security has once again and hopefully finally gained control of all
the members of PAIN and Livestock and Gutch.]

PW: Thank you. Now as I was saying as the representative of the PVW
Championship Committee I have an announcement to make in regards to
that travesty you all call a PVW Tag Team Title match.

[All four men glare at Preston as he clears his throat and continues.]

PW: We here at the PVW take pride in our tag team division and to say
we are proud of four men who can't work with their tag team partners
would be a lie ... a lie so devastating that it tarnish my stellar
reputation in this industry.

CL: Stellar?

FH: Quiet Chip!

PW: So because of that we will once again be having a tag team match
...
this time between Dr. Mal Practice and Dr. Ohno Ow ...

[CROWD POP FOR PAIN!]

PW: Who will be facing Livestock Zappa and Gutch Bartilucci!

[CROWD POP LIVESTOCK AND THE GUTCH!]

[The four men nod as they change their focus from Preston to one
another.]

PW: And one more thing gentlemen the winners of this match will be the
NEW PVW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!

[HUGE POP!]

FH: What?!? How is this fair?

[Livestock and Ohno Ow quickly glare at Preston Winfield, who is
smiling as he walks slowly back up the aisleway.]

FH: How can Preston make such a ruling?

CL: It's a great call! The fans get a real tag team defense and we
know now we will see new tag team champions!

FH: This isn't fair to Livestock or Ow!

[Livestock begins to talk to Zeke Craven, who is livid.]

CL: And the night of questions just keep piling up!  So it appears we
will have another match between these four men for the tag team titles
later TONIGHT!

FH: Zeke can't be happy.

CL: While I try to figure out what just happened let's go backstage.

[Scene: backstage in front of the PVW backdrop. "Swinging" Dean Hayes
stands in front of the backdrop with a microphone in hand as he awaits
his next interview, Herscher von Donkerhardt. Herscher already has his
wrestling gear on.]

"Swinging" Dean Hayes:  With me is Herscher von Donkerhardt. Herscher
are you--

HvD: IF you don't mind Dean, I'm not here to answer questions, just
please listen to what i have to say.

[Dean says nothing and hands Herscher the microphone. Herscher then
look straight into the camera.]

HvD: Manson, I am here to say that I could save you and myself a lot
of trouble. I could simply walk into the ring and hand you this belt.
You would have what you want, and I would spare my body another brutal
beating. I could take time off and let myself heal, and then ponder
either a comeback or retirement.  I could, but I won't and why is that
Manson?

[Slight pause.]

HvD: Do I have as you Americans say, "more guts than brains" or
perhaps a "death wish" No Manson, no. What I am is a champion. A
champion is someone who does not run away from a fight no matter how
costly the fight may be. A champion shows respect for who he is and
what this word truly means. A champion has respect for who he is, who
came before him and who will come after him.

HvD: There were only a few champions to hold this title, but they were
great champions, and great champions have one thing in common, and
that is not some shiny trinket, wrapped around their waist.  A real
champion has a heart, a heart that will put him in harms way,
sacrifice everything he has and pay any price for that win that will
make or keep him a champion.

[HvD continues to glare into the camera.]

HvD:I have the heart of a champion, Manson. I proved that in my match
against Gibson Hayes, and anybody who has wrestles MUST  have a lot of
heart for such a match. You need heart to be a champion, otherwise
your just a titleholder. If i gave you the belt, what do think you'd
be Manson, champion or titleholder? I have too much respect for myself
and the people who came before me and the people who came after me, as
a champion to be followed by a title holder. I'm going into that ring
a champion, and I may or may not walk out as a champion but rest
assured win lose or draw the heart of a champion will still beat in my
chest! How about you Manson, will you bring the heart and the desire?
Do you have what it takes to be a champion, or just a title holder
Manson. Get in the ring and show us!

[HvD nods to Dean hands him back his microphone and abruptly leaves
the set. Dean says nothing and just looks into the camera and smiles.]

CL: HvD is ready to defend his PVW American Championship at all cost
here tonight.  You can question a lot of things around here, Fred.
You _can't_ question the heart of this guy!

FH: Maybe not, but I am questioning his brains.

CL: While that question still lingers on until later tonight.  Next up
will be the long awaited rematch between Chance McKenzie and The
Mercenary.  Will we finally find out who has hired the Mercenary for
all this time?

HD: Introducing first wrestling out of Milan, Italy.  Accompanied to
the ring by, Jessica Marshall.

"Highlight" Chance McKenzie !!!

["Attention Whore" by Deadmau5 & Melleefresh begins to play over the
PA system.  First to emerge is one of the most feared mind's in the
wrestling industry, Jessica Marshall.  She turns and is joined by
Chance McKenzie.

McKenzie wears the latest fashion trends, clothed by the finest in
men's designers. The two ignore the jeers from the crowd as the
finally reach the squared circle. Once inside the ring, the clothes
come off, and McKenzie wrestles shirtless, with a pair of black knee-
length tights, custom made, with "HIGHLIGHT" on the backside in blue
and a connecting "CM" on each side.]

CL: McKenzie has had a lot of success here early on.  Winning tonight
and gaining Marshall's favor would be a huge boost in his career.

FH: It's only a matter of time, Chip.

HD: And his opponent wrestling out of the Bunker.  THE MERCENARY!

[The sounds of approaching helicopters comes over the PA system. They
get louder and louder getting almost deafening, and then get quieter,
as if they were passing overhead. Just as they fade away to nothing,
machine gun bursts take their place. A few seconds later, a whistling
sound is heard, and then 4 large explosions rock the arena, one right
after the other. A large smoke screen engulfs the entranceway,
blocking it off from view. Just as the smoke reaches its maximum
density, "Die Hard the Hunter" by Def Leppard comes blasting out
through the sound system.

A figure can then be seen making his way through the smoke. He comes
to the edge of the entrance way, where he can be plainly seen, and
stops to look over the crowd, soaking in their reaction. Getting his
fill, he makes his way down to the ring, ignoring the fans that reach
out to him, focused totally on the task at hand. He slowly climbs the
ring steps, and gets into the ring.

Merc and Chance stare at each other from across the ring and each
preps themselves for the bell.  Chance shakes out his hands and Merc
cracks his knuckles and neck, pacing back and forth slightly.]



________    _________________________________________________________
|_   __  | .' ___  |
 | |_ \_|/ .'   \_|                 PVW Grudge Match:
 |  _| _ | |   ____        Chance McKenzie v. The Mercenary
_| |__/ |\ `.___]  |
|________| `._____.'__________________________________________________



*DING*DING*DING*



CL: We're underway!  And the Mercenary is not waiting!

[The opening bell finally rings and Merc flies across the ring with a
lariat which Chance quickly ducks.  The smaller, more athletic
McKenzie hits him with a back kick to the ass, sending Merc into the
turnbuckles using his momentum.]

FH: Ha ha ha!  That was embarr-ASS-ing!

CL: I'm not sure that's the man you want to be antagonizing, Fred.

FH: If he doesn't want to be the BUTT of my jokes, he's gonna have to
move faster than that.  Chance McKenzie is way too quick for a blind
charge.

[McKenzie attempts to capitalize quickly with a swift flurry of blows
to the head and shoulders, staggering the paramilitary menace.

CL: Quick follow up by McKenzie, who is aggressive early!  Hooking his
hands around the waist and attempting a German... no!  Merc hooks a
foot to prevent the lift!

FH: Uh oh.  The Mercenary is way too tough to shoot in on this early!

CL: Merc breaks down Chance's hands, quickly reversing and gripping
Chance himself.  He's got McKenzie up!

FH: Too high up!  Waited too long!

CL: McKenzie flips over the Merc's head, and lands on his feet!

[The crowd, still amped in the early night and with lots of energy
left, starts a familiar chant: "PVW!!!"  "PVW!!!"  "PVW!!!"

The energy in the building seems to propel McKenzie even faster, as he
rushes Merc into the ropes and attempts a roll up... but Merc hooks
the top rope and holds strong as McKenzie rolls back onto the balls of
his feet.  Too quickly for the announce team to fully describe,
McKenzie charges forward again and LEAPS!]

FH: McKenzie using the speed... NO!

CL: Mercenary with the experience!  What a devastating counter... he
ducked and pulled down the top rope... wait!  McKenzie landed on his
feet!  INCREDIBLE!

[After dodging the cross body attempt, the Mercenary smiles and walks
away... but doesn't realize McKenzie gripped the top rope himself and
landed on the apron!  As he turnaround, McKenzie springboards off the
top rope and over the top of Merc's head, catching his legs and
rolling him up for with a sunset flip!]


!! ONE !!





!! TWO !!



CL: Kickout at two!  Very close!


FH: McKenzie's going for the victory here!  I thought he might be out
to try and put the Mercenary out for Jessica Marshall, but he's
looking for a win.  And really, that's the smartest thing.  Merc's
been through too much in his career; you're not going to take him out
in this kind of environment.  Wait until after the show and hit him
with a tire iron.

CL: FRED!

FH: Right, you'd need more than that.  A pickaxe.  Preferably a rusty
one, so he gets tetanus.

CL: McKenzie aggressively back to the attack.  His speed has been an
unstoppable weapon early!

[Several more kicks, followed by a big sweeping roundhouse drops the
Mercenary.  McKenzie follows up with an attempt at La Majistral
Cradle, but Merc snakes his arm out of the hold, rolls through, and is
quick to grip onto both of McKenzie's heels!]

FH: Veteran counter!  He's seen all the moves, even the flippy foreign
stuff!

CL: Slingshot coming up!

[Merc hooks his feet in and leans back, sending Chance headfirst
towards the turnbuckles. McKenzie rebounds holding his head as
Mercenary charges the ropes, aiming for a huge lariat.  But Chance
clears the cobwebs and counters with a drop toehold that sends
Mercenary crashing into the canvas.]

FH: Too fast!  Again!

[McKenzie, quick as a cat, rolls onto his feet and drops a driving
elbow. Merc rolls out of the way and McKenzie slams into nothing but
the canvas.]

CL: And great anticipation by Mercenary!  He lacks McKenzie's speed,
but can predict his moves!

[Both men make it back to their feet as the crowd cheers the
incredibly fast pace of the match.  Chance steps forward into a
spinning hook kick but Mercenary steps inside the arch and catches
Chance around the head and leg!]

FH: Oh, yes he can!  McKenzie has to vary his offense and get
unpredictable or...





CL: CRUSHING CAPTURE SUPLEX!

FH: ...THAT will happen.

[The veteran pops the hips, explodes upwards and hits an overhead
release capture suplex, Chance landing on his back and rolling over to
his face and stomach instinctively to avoid the pin.]

CL: McKenzie is reeling, and the Mercenary is on top of him...
CROSSFACE CHICKENWING!  He had to get control of the pace of this
match, and this hold will do it!

FH: And break your arm in the process!

[Chance yells out as his arm is being torqued hard behind his back.
Jessica Marshall pounds the apron, trying to get McKenzie moving in
the right direction.  The cruiserweight looks around, seeking the
quickest escape route.  He sees his position relative to the ropes and
attempts to reach them. Mercenary doesn't give him the chance, pardon
the pun, and rolls onto his side pulling Chance further away from the
ropes!]

CL: And this is the position Chance McKenzie did NOT want to be in.

FH: That's right.  If the match had kept that blistering pace from
earlier, he'd have tired the old man out.  But he didn't expect that
Merc could counter his quickstrike offense with his knowledge of the
sport.  Hate him or loathe him, you'd be hard-pressed to find a guy
that's got more useful ring knowledge than the Mercenary.  He's not a
great technician, but he's a very good tactician.

CL: But McKenzie does possess tremendous technical skill, and he's
attempting to use that right now!

[Chance rolls the Merc flat onto his back and plants his feet, arching
backwards and forcing the  Merc's shoulders onto the mat. Despite the
tremendous pain he's in, he's created a pinfall attempt.]


!! ONE !!




!! TWO !!



CL: Merc releases, and McKenzie is free from the hold!  Good thinking
by McKenzie, and Jessica Marshall applauding that escape.

FH: McKenzie looking for separation!  Merc trying to smother him...

[Cursing under his breath, the Mercenary tries to grab hold of his
smaller foe so that he cannot regain his feet.  However, he is unable
to do so and McKenzie quickly hops up, working his arm out as he
creates space between himself and the hired gun.]

CL: McKenzie back to a vertical position.  Mercenary laying into him
with a hard low kick, right to the thigh.  Chance firing back with
punches, but the Mercenary persists with the low kicks, targeting the
left leg!  Not unlike many martial arts strategies, to injure the
leg of a more mobile athlete!

FH: Jessica!  You gotta get Chance away from him!  He's going to get
hurt bad if he tries to throw strikes with the old fart!

CL: Fred!  How can you call someone that!

FH: It's Pay Per View.  I can say 'fart'.

CL: I was thinking more along the lines of the pot calling the kettle
black.

FH: ...

[As the fans voice approval, Merc charges into his man with another
stiff kick to the left thigh. Chance cringes and counters with a right
hand that creates more space, but again, Merc places a stiff boot to
the thigh.  Chance cringes again, and the Merc folds in his left leg,
picks him up, and drops him knee first to the mat with a modified
kneebuster!]

CL: HE SPIKED HIS KNEECAP INTO THE MAT!  VICIOUS, VICIOUS MANEUVER!

FH: That's called the ACL, Chip, an old James Audiet move.  And you
wanna talk about slowing a guy down; that one can slow you down for
months if the patella breaks!

CL: Chance yelped in pain on that one, and rolled to the outside of
the ring before Merc could further capitalize.  I'm not sure whether
that was a wise maneuver!

FH: It definitely was not!  You do NOT want to get out on the floor
with the Mercenary!

CL: ...WHAT IS THIS?!

[Merc is about to charge out of the ring, but Jessica Marshall
immediately jumps onto the apron in front of him!  The fans erupt in a
loud noise; some are booing the cheap stalling tactic, but others
are sensing that "Fatality" may be moments away from living up to her
name!]

FH: GET DOWN FROM THERE, JESSICA!  THAT MAN HAS NO HONOR!  HE'D SLAP
YOUR JAW OFF FOR FIVE BUCKS!

[Merc takes a quick look down at the broadcast booth, staring
inquisitively at Fred and holding up five fingers.]

FH: THAT WAS _NOT_ AN OFFER!  I'LL... I'LL PAY YOU FIVE NOT TO HIT
HER!

[Merc waves his hand at Fred, motioning for the money.  In the
meantime, Jessica begins reading him the riot act as McKenzie takes
the opportunity to slink further away while rubbing at his leg.]

CL: Fred!  You can't get involved in a match!

FH: Here, five bucks!

[Fred tosses Merc a five.  He pockets it, and immediately starts
ignoring Marshall, looking around for McKenzie.  He finally spots his
opponent, who is using the barricade to stand and is testing his
weight on that left leg of his.]

CL: Fans, I apologize for my broadcast partner's blatant distraction
of a wrestler in a match...

FH: He was gonna hit a lady!

CL: Well, Jessica Marshall, anyway.

FH: JESSICA!  YOU OWE ME TEN BUCKS!

CL: Chivalrous to the end.

[Merc tries a few steps trying to get to McKenzie but she steps in
between him each time.  Finally, Merc has had enough and runs off the
far ropes, building up a big head of steam as he charges at Marshall
to the roar of the crowd!]

FH: HEY!  I PAID YOU!

CL: THE MERCENARY GOING FOR MARSHALL...

[Jessica covers her face, bracing for the impending doom...]

CL: ...LOOK AT THAT!


[MASSIVE FACE POP!]


[Indeed, the Mercenary did immense damage to Jessica Marshall.  Not to
her body, but to the ego... as he slid out of the ring, Merc grabbed a
handful of Jessica's skirt!  When he touched the floor, the skirt
touched her shoes.  Jessica brings her hands down from protecting her
face in total shock. She looks around at the arena, skirt at her
ankles and turns a shade of red normally reserved for various fruit
and vegetables!  Her fists clench, turning white... the same
shade as her underwear.]

FH: ...

CL: ...

Crowd: "TIGHT-Y WHITE-IES!" *clap clap clapclapclap*

	"TIGHT-Y WHITE-IES!" *clap clap clapclapclap*

	"TIGHT-Y WHITE-IES!" *clap clap clapclapclap*


[Jessica shrieks in rage at the humiliating chant, so angry that it
takes her a moment to remember to pull her skirt back up.]

FH: I CAN'T BELIEVE THESE REPROBATES!  CHEERING AT... she does have a
nice... *ahem* THESE PEOPLE ARE SICK!  And I want my money back!
That's a vicious attack as far as I'm concerned!

CL: The Mercenary didn't hit her, but I think he got his five dollars
worth anyway!

FH: She's MUCH more than five dollars worth!  ... NOT THAT I'M
SUGGESTING ANYTHING!

Crowd:	"TIGHT-Y WHITE-IES!" *clap clap clapclapclap*

	"TIGHT-Y WHITE-IES!" *clap clap clapclapclap*

	"TIGHT-Y WHITE-IES!" *clap clap clapclapclap*


[Merc chuckles at her misfortune, joining the chant.  However,
Marshall's humiliation may have served a purpose for her after all as
the Mercenary has made a mistake that belies his many years in the
sport.  He has taken his eyes off the always-dangerous Chance
McKenzie for too long, and he catches a flying crescent kick to the
face for his mistake!]

CL: VICIOUS FLYING KICK BY MCKENZIE!

FH: That'll teach him!  I hope McKenzie splits this cretin's skull
open on the concrete!

CL: Merc fell to the floor clutching his face, and Chance McKenzie
wasting no time!  McKenzie steps onto the apron... UNBELIEVABLE!

[The chanting stops in jaw-dropping silence, and then a large respect
pop for McKenzie, who springboards backwards with a corkscrew plancha,
landing hard across the Merc's chest!  The unknown soldier's head
smacks against the barricade as he falls!]

FH: I normally don't go for those flippy Mexican jumping bean moves,
but seeing a man javelin himself into the Mercenary's chest looks
mighty good right now.

CL: That corkscrew plancha, of course, did some damage to McKenzie as
well!  But Marshall taking advantage...





CL: ...OW!

FH: Shades of her sister!

CL: I... wouldn't know, Fred.

FH: Marshall women are too trigger-happy with the slap sometimes.  All
I did was compliment her b...

CL: The referee was too distracted with the, ah, embarrassment of
Jessica Marshall to count earlier, or this match would be long over by
way of countout.  But Chance has rolled back into the ring, and he's
ordering Max Kelly to start counting him out faster.

FH: Chance, leave him alone!  That just breaks the count!

CL: The count is now on...

!! ONE !!



!! TWO !!




!! THREE !!


FH: You're not going to beat the Mercenary this way.  The man is too
tough to stay down that long.


!! FOUR !!

[The Merc is already back to his feet and leaning on the apron as he
clutches in a few breaths.  Chance realizes the countout is a lost
cause, and runs off the far ropes.]

CL: McKenzie looking for some more aerial offense... PLANCHA!


[HUGE POP!]


FH: NO!  NEVER TELEGRAPH THE FLIPPY CRAP!

CL: He springboarded, and dove...BUT HE GOT CAUGHT!  WHAT POWER BY THE
MERCENARY... AND HE RAMS HIS BACK INTO THE APRON!


!! ONE !!


FH: Why... why did you have to go to the Mexican garbage?  It never
works!


!! TWO !!


CL: I don't know about that, but I do know that the Mercenary has
McKenzie's leg! Chance laying on the apron... and Merc spikes his knee
into the edge of the apron!


!! THREE !!


FH: And again.  And again.  JESSICA, DO SOMETHING!


!! FOUR !!


[Finally, the Mercenary drags McKenzie to the corner and crotches him
into the post! there is a loud male sympathy gasp!]


FH: THAT SHOULD BE AN AUTOMATIC DISQUALIFICATION!


!! FIVE !!


CL: I could see the argument for that, yes!  Merc grabs Chance's
leg...





CL: AND HE MAY HAVE BROKEN IT RIGHT THERE!  HE SLAMMED IT AGAINST THE
RINGPOST! CHANCE MCKENZIE SCREAMING IN PAIN!



!! SIX !!





FH: HE DID IT AGAIN!  WHY IS MAX KELLY NOT DISQUALIFYING THE
MERCENARY?!


CL: For the crotching, maybe, but hitting the leg isn't really grounds
for a disqualification!  He's coming dangerously close to getting
counted out, though!


!! SEVEN !!


[Merc rolls into the ring momentarily to break the count and rolls
right back out.]


FH: Oh, you had to say something!


CL: Chance is reeling in pain!  He's attempting to pull himself away
from the post, but the Merc yanks him right back in!


!! ONE !!


[The crowd sees what is happening now, and they yell in anticipation.

FH: NO!  NOT THIS!  JESSICA, DO SOMETHING!

CL: HE'S WRAPPING MCKENZIE'S LEGS AROUND THE POST!  COULD IT BE?!



!! TWO !!


FH: RINGPOST FIGURE FOUR!  RINGPOST FIGURE FOUR!  THAT HAS TO BE A DQ!
KELLY, YOU IDIOT, HE'S ILLEGALLY CRIPPLING A MAN!

[The Mercenary has folded Chance's legs over into a figure 4 around
the ringpost, before hooking his own legs and torquing back on the
painful submission.  All of Merc's weight hangs down from the corner,
and McKenzie is shrieking in agony.]


!! THREE !!


CL: THIS IS WHAT CAN HAPPEN, FRED!  THIS IS WHAT CAN HAPPEN WHEN YOU
CROSS THE MERCENARY!  Chance McKenzie is in a career-threatening
situation!



!! FOUR !!


FH: Jessica wants to run in... but Merc is looking right at her!  He
WANTS her to come over there!  He'd pull her down by the leg and...
I'd have to get my five dollars back!


!! FIVE !!


CL: Chance is in a HORRID amount of pain!  Absolutely excruciating!
If he could legally tap to this submission, he probably would!


!! SIX !!


FH: I think you're not giving him enough credit... he would surely DIE
before giving up to the Mercenary. How LONG has he been harassed by
that man?


!! SEVEN !!


CL: Well, being harassed may be better than having a permanent limp...
not to mention that Chance started it!  The Mercenary has released the
hold!

FH: Thank goodness!


!! EIGHT !!


CL: The Merc up to the apron... WAIT A MINUTE!  MARSHALL DOVE FOR HIS
LEG!  SHE'S TRYING TO KEEP HIM FROM REENTERING!


FH: And she snuck up by ducking down... the referee doesn't see her
because the apron is in the way!  Brilliant!


!! NINE !!


CL: MAX, LOOK!  WHY DO YOU THINK HE'S STRUGGLING TO GET INTO THE
RING?!

FH: Hey, are you saying something about Jessica's weight?!  She'll
kill you, Chip!

CL: HE'S GOING TO BE COUNTED OUT!



!! TE.....NO! !!


[The crowd gives a relieved cheer as Merc pulls himself in, with
Jessica still clutching his ankle. She lets go as soon as she sees Max
Kelly point an accusing finger at her.]

CL: And now you REALLY might have to get your money back, Fred!

[The Mercenary glares at Marshall, and reaches for her.  She jumps
back juuuuust in time as his swipe misses her hair by inches!]

FH: What a creep.  You know what?  Now he owes ME ten bucks!

CL: Yeah.  Good luck collecting that, Hoyle.  Jessica Marshall doing
everything she can to keep Chance McKenzie in this, but she may not be
doing him any favors if his leg is severely injured.

FH: He works for her, not vice-versa.  Get that straight, Chip.

CL: YOu seem to lack a basic understanding of a manager-client
relationship.

[The Mercenary finally lets Marshall go after his third attempt to
grab her, and turns his attention back into the ring.  McKenzie takes
the time to pull himself away from the corner and pull himself up by
the ropes.  Unable to extend his leg fully, he limps along the ropes.
Like a shark smelling blood in the water, Merc steps forward and kicks
the leg as hard as he can, sending McKenzie hard to the mat.]

CL: McKenzie makes it back to his feet, only to be kicked down once
again!  Jessica stalled for as much time as she could, but her man is
seriously hurt.  Max Kelly may soon consider a stoppage.

FH: If Rick Marley had done that to somebody, you'd be crying boo hoo
to everyone in town, Chip.

CL: I am not claiming that it was ethical by any means... but McKenzie
and Marshall have no sense of fair play themselves!  They would gladly
have done the same if opportunity presented.  A SECOND KICK BY THE
MERCENARY AGAIN TOPPLES CHANCE MCKENZIE!

FH: He's just waiting on him and measuring him.  This is humiliating,
but it also does more damage than you'd think.  When you can tee off
on a guy and hit him right where you want to...

CL: And he's measuring his man again...

FH: LOOK AT THAT!

[Chance makes it back to his feet a third time, and this time he
anticipates the attack from his grizzled adversary.  McKenzie JUMPS
over the kick from Merc on his good leg!]

FH: Look at that incredible agility, even on ONE leg!  Chance is the
FUTURE, I tell you.

[Merc doesn't give him the opportunity to dodge again and grips the
leg, spinning around and dropping him with a dragon screw legwhip!]

CL: That future is going to be cut very, very short if Chance doesn't
do something drastic, and soon.

[Merc stands again, still holding the leg and drops a second
dragonscrew, torquing the knee with all his might.]

FH: Rolling dragonsomething screw-whip takedown-thingys...

CL: Dragonscrew legwhips, and the Mercenary keeping that ankle locked
in tight after each one!  This is punishing!

[Merc stands a third time, practically pulling Chance up with his bad
foot!]





CL: WHAT A SHOT!

FH: YES!  YESSSS!

[As the fans scream in shock, the Mercenary falls like a shot deer
while McKenzie falls onto his stomach, gripping his knee after a
thunderous Enziguiri!]

CL: HE MAY HAVE KNOCKED HIM OUT!

FH: I never thought the Mercenary could be cold-cocked like that, but
that was the hardest enzuigiri I have seen in a long time!  But
wait... no, Merc's not out!  He's too tough of a bastard to one-shot!

[Chance crawls across the ring to the turnbuckles and pulls himself to
his feet.  Gingerly working out his leg, he measures the Mercenary as
he starts to regain his senses.]

CL: McKenzie has a rare chance here, Fred!  He was all but finished,
and he may STILL be seriously injured!  If he is, he ought to exit
stage left while he can... but if he still has something left,
and if that knee isn't totaled, he may be able to pick up a shocking
turnabout victory!

FH: It's now or never!

CL: Running at the Mercenary... FLIPPING SENTON SPLASH!

FH: No, no, no... you gotta do better than flippy crap moves!  Jumping
on a guy is meaningless when you're under two-hundred twenty pounds!

CL: On the contrary!  That tumbling adds a lot of velocity and
force... remember, momentum is mass times _velocity_.  If you get
enough veloc...

FH: Can the chemistry lesson, nobody cares.

CL: Physics.

FH: NOBODY CARES!





FH: Now THAT is what people care about... boot to the head!

CL: McKenzie with a hard jump kick to the skull of a kneeling
Mercenary!  He used his good leg to jump and kick, and landed seated
as if executing a dropkick!  He's trying to fight this match on one
leg, and he has the legendary Mercenary reeling!

FH: Now he's stomping... gritting his teeth, but look!  He can put
some weight on that left leg!

CL: It's not broken, then!  McKenzie still in this thing, if he can
grit it out.  Chance stepping on the bottom turnbuckle... and
ELEVATING!  Beautiful legdrop... off the bottom rope, which you almost
never see, but much more height than a conventional legdrop!

FH: The best thing about using the bottom rope like that is you don't
have to climb.  You can just step on it and push off.  No wasted time.

CL: McKenzie back to the corner... and A SECOND TIME!  Nailing the
Mercenary with a high-jumping legdrop using the bottom rope, and he's
hooking a leg!


!! ONE !!






!! TWO !!



CL: Kickout at 2!


FH: But he's not wasting any time!


CL: Back to his feet and measuring the Mercenary for a stiff soccer
kick to the ribs.  It looks like Chance is working through the pain as
best he can... he's buckling a bit but going for it as close to full-
bore as he can manage.  A second soccer kick to the ribs, and this
time Merc absorbs the blow with a grunt and makes it to his feet.

FH: Holding his ribs, though!  Those took some damage earlier,
remember!

CL: Chance pushing him to the ropes and now an Irish-Whip!  Merc
bounces off... and catches a high arcing dropkick from McKenzie!  UH
OH!

[McKenzie arches backwards from the dropkick, with perfect form.  He
lands perfectly on his feet... minus the immediate failure of his
damaged left leg.]

FH: He's gotta adjust his offense better!  He can't be showing off
anymore!

CL: Chance gets back to his feet and does his best to show the
Mercenary the pain in his knee... by dropping it straight into the
Merc's forehead.  I'm not sure how smart that was!

[Merc kicks his feet out and rolls over, holding his head.  Chance
takes the opportunity to hook his shoulders and step over into a
Magistral Cradle!]


!! ONE !!






!! TWO !!



CL: Kickout at 2!  Merc rolled through.. what is this?!

[Merc rolled through and keeps Chance hooked over his shoulders. With
a tremendous amount of strength, Merc makes it back to his feet and
drives Chance into the mat with a samoan drop!  The fans cher the
impressive move!]

FH: Come on, Chance!  You have to put him away somehow!

CL: I think that may be his problem!  On one leg, what CAN he finish
it with!  It takes a hellacious move to keep this man down!

[Merc sits up holding his head, and drags the lamed Chance up with
him.  He Irish-Whips him chest first into the nearest turnbuckle.
Chance bounces off backwards into a waiting Merc.  He grips onto
Chance's waist and then hoists him high into the air, tossing him
towards the turnbuckles and ...]

FH: DOWN PAYMENT!

*HUGE FACE POP*

[Chance's head collides with the second turnbuckle as the unorthodox
but effective waistlock-lift-takedown-into-the-corner move which the
Mercenary has pulled out several times over the years rings his bell.
He flops out of the ring to the concrete, his bell thoroughly
rung.]

CL: I don't know of anyone else who uses that particular move, and
Chance did not have that scouted at all!  The Mercenary with that
sadistic twist on an amateur takedown, and McKenzie's bell is
thoroughly rung.

FH: What's he doing now?

[The Mercenary dusts off the top of the ringpost... not the top
turnbuckle, but the top of the post itself. He smiles down at Marshall
and points to it... then to McKenzie.  Jessica goes white as she knows
what is coming.  So does the crowd, and they start chanting for the
move they want to see next!]


Crowd: "EN-E-MA!       EN-E-MA!         EN-E-MA!      EN-E-MA!
EN-E-MA!         EN-E-MA!"


FH: What is the matter with these people? Chance is a gift! A GIFT to
this company!  And now he's been reduced to this?

CL: I think the fans want to see a certain signature maneuver of the
Mercenary... and after that, NOBODY is going to keep fighting!

[Chance finally rolls to his feet, and back into the ring.  He's met
with a stiff boot from the Mercenary... who turns him around and lifts
him up in an atomic drop position, moving to the turnbuckle to set up
the Enema.  However, McKenzie slides down the back, and uses his good
leg to launch a low blow so hard his feet come off the ground!]

Crowd: "OOOOH!"

FH: Yeah, how's THAT for an Enema?!

[Merc grabs his nethers and drops to his knees where he's eye level
with a rising Chance.  McKenzie throws a right and rocks Mercenary,
who throws a right of his own and knocks Chance back himself.
McKenzie with a right. Merc with a right. McKenzie. Merc. McKenzie.
Merc. McKenzie. Merc.]

CL: TOE TO TOE!

FH: Chance is standing up to him!

CL: McKenzie with an eye gouge... and jumping from his knees into a
sitout dropkick into the mouth of the Mercenary!   What a move!

FH: And you can hear the howl of pain, Chip.  Using his legs is
KILLING him, but he has to do it!  He has no choice!

CL: I admit, Chance McKenzie showing unreal toughness to still be in
this.  Chance rushes quickly to the ropes... QUEBRADA LANDING ACROSS
THE RIBS OF THE MERCENARY!  Tremendous springboard moonsault, and the
adrenaline is taking over!

FH: He's not at full speed!  He won't be able to do those flippy moves
much longer!

CL: Chance begins firing away with stomps and kicks, clearly the
adrenaline overriding the pain in his knee!

[Stopping for a moment to rub his left knee and steel himself for one
last flurry, McKenzie runs to the corner and vaults to the top rope in
one swift move!  He has to clutch the top rope and grit his teeth to
keep from falling, but without any further hesitation after that, he
leaps off into a beautiful frogsplash landing hard on the Mercenary!]

FH: FROG SPLASH CONNECTS!  THAT'S GOING TO BE IT!


!! ONE !!





!! TWO !!


CL: Mercenary out at 2, and a strong kickout!  Chance McKenzie can't
believe it!

FH: Merc still has so much left in the tank... McKenzie has to use
desperate measures!

[After a stunned moment, Chance shakes his head and redoubles his
efforts.  He hoists the Mercenary up and tosses him into the ropes. As
he comes back, he's met with...]

CL: HAUTE COUTURE KICK TO THE FACE!

FH: NOW WE HAVE THE HEAVY ARTILLERY!  It could be the beginning of the
end for the Mercenary! Chance has had ENOUGH after that bullcrap
ringpost figure four, and it's time to show the Mercenary
exactly what he's made of...

CL: Chance hoists Mercenary up and drags him to the turnbuckle!  He's
climbing up, and you know what he's setting up for!

FH: And it's time for the Mercenary to take that BIG Plunge Into
Obscurity... and FINALLY get some closure for Chance, for Jessica, and
for Ashleigh.

CL: It truly does but--- Wait... What's that?

[An SSN Network official begins making his way down to the ring,
flanked by a series of bodyguards. In the center of 6 men, he looks
very confident in his task.  The fans are on edge, shocked and
wondering what this could mean.]

CL: WHAT?!  What is... WHAT IS A STRICKLAND SPORTS NETWORK OFFICIAL
DOING HERE?!  IS HE THE BACKER?

FH: Why ELSE would he be here?  We're finally going to get this crap
sorted out!  Jessica will FINALLY know!

[Indeed, Marshall looks like she's seen a ghost.  She points at the
man and growls "YOU!".  Chance turns and seems puzzled... he lands a
hard kick to drop the Mercenary, and turns to see what is happening,
ready for the worst.]

CL: That's... isn't that one of Dex Willingham's former aides?

FH: I thought that was one of those guys who worked Legal with Zeke
Craven!

CL: I don't know, but SSN has no more place here in PVW!  They sold us
off!  And this man is holding up the whole match!


[MONSTROUS CROWD POP!]


CL: THE FANS HAVE EXPLODED... WHAT...?  WHAT?!?!?

FH: NO!  NOOOOOO!  TURN AROUND, CHANCE!

[Too late.]





[A Haliburton was slid into the ring while the SSN officer had drawn
everyone's attention.  Chance McKenzie learned this the hard way...
when he was smashed with a second Haliburton, carried by the
man who had sprung over the ropes into him with it... and sending him
crashing down into the first Haliburton!

And who is that man?]


FH: OH MY GOD... OH MY GOD...


CL: IT'S...






... IT'S __ALEX EPSTEIN__!


[Turning to hear the BLAMM, Jessica sees Epstein rolling out of the
ring... and screams.  A scream of pure, unadulterated hate.  The
screaming she did at the Mercenary earlier?  That would be about a .65
on the Hate You So Much scale.  This is a 1.28.

Max Kelly truns around, sees two Haliburtons, and two wrestlers laid
out.  He has literally no idea what to call.

The fans know what to call, though:]


Fans: "AL-EX!  AL-EX!  AL-EX!  AL-EX!  AL-EX!"

	"AL-EX!  AL-EX!  AL-EX!  AL-EX!  AL-EX!"

	"AL-EX!  AL-EX!  AL-EX!  AL-EX!  AL-EX!"

	"AL-EX!  AL-EX!  AL-EX!  AL-EX!  AL-EX!"


FH: THAT LIAR SAID IT WASN'T HIM!

CL: AND OBVIOUSLY, HE WAS LYING!

FH: Epstein hates Marshall, and Marshall hates Epstein... I should
have known!  He's used the Mercenary to do his dirty work for years!
Why didn't I see this?!  ARGH!

CL: That's what Jessica Marshall is saying right about now!  Kelly
kicks the Haliburton's out of the ring, and applies a count!  He's
counting both men down!


!! ONE !!


FH: WHAT?!  THAT SHOULD BE A DOUBLE DISQUALIFICATION, IF YOU DON'T
KNOW WHO HIT WHO!


!! TWO !!


CL: He never saw Epstein!  Epstein rolled out of the ring as soon as
he landed, and got out of Kelly's visual range immediately.

FH: Max Kelly's visual range is about four and a half inches, Chip.


!! THREE !!


[Merc sits up, and slowly starts to get to his feet.]


!! FOUR !!


FH: Look at Merc!  He was pretending to be unconscious!  He knew what
was coming!


[Indeed, when he gets to his feet, his movements get far less
sluggish, and a big smile comes over his face.]


CL: The Mercenary is up, and Chance McKenzie is also stirring!  Chance
was hit chest-first with a metal briefcase and fell back-first into
another, so I'm impressed if he's still moving... but I think the Merc
would get an easy three-count if he wanted one here!

[Nope.  He hooks McKenzie by the back of the trunks, and helps him
up... towards the corner.  The same corner he patted earlier.]

FH: Oh, no.  No no no.

CL: This is too much!  McKenzie is beaten... but the Mercenary is
about to add insulting injury to injury!

FH: KELLY!  STOP HIM!

CL: Jessica Marshall is almost oblivious to this... she's watching
Epstein give that SSN official a Haliburton in the aisle!  He was a
red herring... a hired distraction!

FH: Figures.  SSN never did do anything but show up, take the money,
and run.

[The Mercenary has set McKenzie on the top turnbuckle facing out, and
has climbed up to the middle rope behind him, as if for a belly-to-
back superplex.  But everyone knows that's not what is going to happen
here. The chant of "AL-EX!" has been replaced by bloodthirsty cheering
as Merc lifts McKenzie...

...and waits.]

FH: DON'T TURN AROUND, JESSICA!

[Too late.  Epstein is gone, and she suddenly remembers there's a
match going on.  She pivots, stops, and her hands go to her mouth in
horror as she realizes what she's about to see.

The Mercenary steps up onto the top turnbuckle with one foot, and
steps straight backwards with the same foot, falling feet-first to the
mat as he swings Chance down with an atomic drop...

...onto the top of the ringpost.]


FH: *squeak*

CL: __ENEMA__!

FH: That's... not nice at all...

CL: The "not nice"-est move I know of, and look at McKenzie's face!

[Chance's eyes roll back into his head as his face has that expression
of pain normally reserved for people who have mistaken a cactus for a
lawnchair.  Jessica Marshall's face looks remarkably similar, as she
shudders at the horror of what that must feel like.  McKenzie slowly
flops backwards into the ring, sliding off the top turnbuckle into a
heap, as if he were half-liquid.  Merc rolls him onto his back and
covers with both hands in the chest.]


!! ONE !!






!! TWO !!





!! THREE !!



*DING*DING*DING*


HD: IN THIRTEEN MINUTES, FIFTY-SIX SECONDS... HERE IS YOUR WINNER...
__THE MERCENARY__!


[The theme music begins to play, and the Mercenary looks on with
bemusement as Marshall rushes to check on Chance... then realizes who
she'd be alone with, and so U-Turns and heads out of the arena as fast
as she can, her face a mixture of revulsion and rage.]

CL: I think that one is decisively over, and The Mercenary has
triumphed.  And now we know who has been paying him this whole time,
Fred.

FH: Alex Epstein has been at war with Jessica Marshall for years in
Canada, but up there she was always the one with the power and
authority!  Now he's obviously followed her to Phoenix Valley, and
here she's just a manager!

CL: But will we be seeing any more of Epstein, or was this a one-night
intervention to let the world know who the Mercenary's patron was?
Regardless, if Epstein is backing the Mercenary, that means he's been
flexing his influence here in PVW for some time behind the scenes, and
who knows what will happen next?

FH: What's going to happen next is Chance McKenzie is going to get
some medical attention.

[The Mercenary goes around the ring, returning the fans' cheers with
signs of appreciation.  After all, they DID pay to see him.  In the
meantime, a couple members of PVW's medical team check on Chance
McKenzie, who is barely moving.]

CL: Indeed.  The Mercenary did a number on his left knee, and Chance
didn't do himself any favors fighting on that... though he showed
amazing toughness, and may have won the match against all odds had
Epstein not intervened when he did!

FH: That's right!  Chance McKenzie has nothing to be ashamed about; in
fact, as far as I'm concerned, his stock shot up tonight!  It remains
to be seen how badly hurt he is, but he's got the heart you want to
see out of a champion.

CL: And if nothing else, his intestines are clean as a whistle after
that Enema.

FH: That is NOT funny.

CL: Mr. McKenzie will be walking rather funny for the next several
months, but he can also walk tall with the knowledge that he gave an
incredible showing.  As for the Mercenary, this big win puts him back
in the mix as far as championship contenders in PVW.  He could be
looking at a Television or American championship match with another
key win or two.

[Finished with the post-match revelry, Merc exits the ring and heads
to the back.  The medical staff is calling for a stretcher for
McKenzie, and you'd want one too if you got slammed ass-first into the
top of a ringpost.  Just saying. Merc's music dies out, and the fans
give some respectful applause for McKenzie, because he did show a lot
of guts and put on a great show.]

FH: Not to mention that he's still doing Alex Epstein's bidding.  Who
knows what that maniac will have him do next!


CL: Next?  We heard from William Craven ... Now it's time to hear
from, The Outcast.

[Rob Cole is wet and bedraggled, his eyes sunken from lack of sleep
and his longish hair hangs in loose tangles about his features. He's
dressed in his white ring gear with black trim. And as the camera
finds its focus, the brawler is clapping.]

RC: Congratulations, Bill! Congratulations buddy! You managed to score
yourself a match with a man you've repeatedly beaten.  Every accolade
you've been showered with... every day you breathe in the air and walk
down that aisle means nothing. It never means anything. And if you
manage to do what you did time and time before: If you beat Rob Cole?
Wow... that's really something! You never had anything to gain from
this
match... NOTHING! You should be proud... proud to be who you are. But
no...
you spend all your time hating me.

[Cole wipes the smile from his face, shaking his head in disgust as he
looks down at his own hands and begins to massage the numbness from
his left wrist with a wince. He licks his lips, looking back up to the
camera as he continues to speak.]

RC: You have sacrificed your body and your mind and every sense of
decency to become the Thing that everyone in this locker room fears!
You said it yourself.... You have no family. You decided to turn your
back on that opportunity... don't pretend that the decision was made
for you, don't lie to yourself! Your wife left you and protected your
son from the reflection of what your own childhood was like. You
talked about your own son hating you? A real father stands there and
will take the venom and will still open his arms to his child anyway.
You can't handle that! You have no life outside this arena. And now
you see yourself alone and abused and a victim of your own choices.
*laugh* It was a pretty little story you painted a few weeks back...
the big bad dragon standing before the suit of armor, waiting for that
first move. And when the knight moved... wonder what it would have
been like to hold your own son on your lap and to tell that little
story... you'll never know, will you?

[Cole takes a deep breath. He lets out a little chuckle and rolls his
neck, licking his lips. He glances up and then back to the camera
again.]

RC: Tonight? No matter what happens, I have every intention of
surviving... I have every intention of walking out of the arena by my
own power and in giving you the kind of fight you least expected. I'm
going to pin you to the mat and prove that you were right... I'm not a
monster. I'm a wrestler. I'm a man. And I'm the proud father and
loving husband that you could never be.

[Cut.]

CL: Words that no doubt cut deep for Craven.

FH: Cole was lucky to survive being buried alive.  I don't think he is
going to be so lucky this time.

CL: What a night it's been thus far tonight.  We are only three
matches into End Game.  We have a Mr. Called Shot.  We have a _new_
tag team championship scheduled for later tonight.  And we now know
who was paying, The Mercenary.  Next up we have a rematch of the HIT
finals.

FH: This time Max and Sal can't pull a fast one over The Heat.

CL: Before we go to the ring let's go backstage with Dean Hayes who is
standing by with The Heat.

[Standing with a Hawaiian shirt and cargo short clad Dean Hayes is a
terry cloth robe festooned Arvelle Lafayette. The MAGIC man of PVW
looks quite agitated.]

SDH: Well, Arvelle, what do you think of your upcoming match against
Max and Sal - the third match and one of the most important matches in
the HEAT's history.

[Arvelle casts a nasty look towards Dean.]

AML: Dean-o, you know a few things. You know how to disappoint a woman
in bed. You also know how to ask the absolutely wrong questions and
y'all know just how to be the absolute worst interviewer in the
history of this great sport. But what you don't know is diddly squat
about the greatest tag team in the world today; baby, I'm talking
about the H-E-A-T; the HEAT, Deanie Weenie!

[An air horn blow!]

AML: The HEAT have had big matches before but you managed to stumble
on a bit of truth mixed in with your Yankee lies: this is one of the
biggest stages the HEAT have ever been on and this match is an
important one to all of us at Heat Enterprises, Incorporated! Ya see,
Teeny Deany, the HEAT take two things seriously: getting down with the
parties and getting down in that there wrestling ring. Max and Sal,
they done stole from the HEAT but, most importantly, they done stole
from the HEAT-TITES, the HEAT-STERS out there who want nothing more
than to see the most talented tag team in the world today brighten up
their crappy lil' lives and their terrible lil' hovels with dirt
floors and smelly in laws. But, Bean Burrito, you know what is the
truth of the matter?

[Hayes cocks an eyebrow.]

SDH: No, what's the truth of the matter, Aardvark?

[Ignoring Dean's taunt, Arvelle is all smiles.]

AML: We forgive Max and Sal. The HEAT knows Maxi-Pad and Sally-Frog
were just jealous of our good looks, good woman and tough talking
ways. It's okay to be jealous, Max and Sal. You're two good kids,
gotta bright future ahead of you. Except that future looks a bit
dimmer compared to the HEAT and 'specially after the HEAT get through
with y'all ta-night! Don't be angry, though, because we brought y'all
a big ole present to show our 'ppreciation! *wink* Well, I gotta run
and talk strategy with my crew. I'm proud of you Dean; because lord
knows that drooling retards like you usually can't hold down jobs for
too long!

[Arvelle does a snap snap and walks off camera while Dean looks very
cross.]

SDH: I hate that skinny little puke of a guy, I really do.

FH: Who doesn't Dean hate.

CL: Me.

FH: From what I've heard he gets along better with your wife than you.

CL: What's that supposed to mean, Fred!

[The arena darkens as Ferry Corsten's "Fire" kicks up.]

#Oh woman you make me feel
#Like I'm fire
#Oh woman you make it real
#It's the only way for me

FH: That music means it's match time, Chip.

[A cavalcade of rainbow colored lights swirl from above the ring and
making his entrance is none other than the HEAT's mouth piece: Arvelle
"MAGIC" Lafayette - dressed in a red sequined tuxedo with yellow
shirt, white sequined bow tie, long magician's cane and his motor
mouth.]

AML: Hello, world! Welcome to the answers to your prayers; your wishes
come true and your desires made flesh! Y'all know me, I'm the hottest
manager on the circuit today; the master of magic and a damn smart
man. I am Arvelle "MAGIC" Layfette!

[To accentuate his point, Arvelle blows his air horn then shoots out
cards at the audience from both his sleeves! The volume grows louder
and even more lights start to swirl from all points around the arena.]

AML: Allow me, your humble master of ceremonies, to, as a courtesy,
introduce you to the tag team that has captured the imagination of the
fellas and the wet dreams of all the ladies.

[Shining onto the entrance way is a very bright spotlight. Arvelle
baskes in the glorious attention of the audience, who don't seem to
appreciate his efforts.]

AML: First, from Miami, Florida - coming in at 6 feet 5 inches (but
more where it counts) and 290 pounds of solid, rock hard love muscle
is the Miami Pound Machine; the Master of Mayhem and the Adonis of the
Caribbean - MAXIME JEAN BAPTISTE!

[Stepping out from backstage is the HEAT's big man: Maxime
Jean-Baptiste. MJ-B is wearing red bicycle trunks with flames
airbrushed on the sides and over the crotch. Hiding Max's eyes are a
pair of fierce red sunglasses. Jean-Baptiste is well put together, his
body a masterpiece of possible steroid use and working out most every
day. Maxime's hair is braided and at the ends has small glass beads of
various colors. On the right back leg the flags of Haiti and Florida
are represented as the HEAT's muscle walks purposefully to the ring.]

AML: Ain't that something? Well, we got more for you folks in
attendance! The other half of the combination that is making this
nation fall backwards in appreciation and quivering with anticipation
of their next match!

From WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HA-KA, ME-SI-CO;
weighing in at a sextacular 253 pounds and packing more girth where it
counts on his 5 foot 10 inch frame (10 inches is where he starts).
This is EL RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUDO! Otherwise known as EL
MACHISMO MAGNIFICO Y GUAPO, he is all that is man and his name is
*deep breath*

FranciscoGabrielMaximillienIsadoreOsorioMagnon ay kay ay PACO Magnon!

[The rougher and smaller of the HEAT slithers into the spotlight. His
black hair slicked into a pompador with 5 o'clock scruff around his
MACHO mustache and soul patch showing prominently on his strong chin,
PACO makes kissing motions towards a few ladies and thrusts his pelvis
at others. Magnon is quite hairy on both the front and the back, but
Paco is cut, ripped, chiseled and JAAAAAAAAAACKED. Tonight PACO is
wearing matching deep red trunks that are almost like speedos, with
white wrestling boots that have spangles on them (silver). The trunks
have yellow piping and a Mexican flag on the right cheek. Over his
crotch is the obligatory air brushed bull's head huffing out steam.
Around his neck are PACO's beloved gold chains, with one in particular
(a big thick and heavy chain with a giant dangling male symbol being
the main one). Finishing Magnon's ensemble are black chaps with gold
spangles. Though when the shot goes to show PACO from behind you can
see he is also wearing silver colored knee pads and elbow pads. PACO
has also gone to the trouble of putting white tape around his finger
joints and wrists.]

AML: Of course the HEAT always has another trick ready to tip the odds
in their favor and that special, go to gal is none other than the Bell
of the Southlands, Miss Arkansas herself and a talented lady of in the
ring herself. Y'all know who I am talking about and all you boys out
there are just bursting with anticipation for the arrival of Miss
Floooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooriiiiiiiiine
Walker-Davies!

[Walking out, deliberately and with a lady-like refinement, is Miss
Florine. The HEAT's XX trump card is wearing a form fitting red devil
costume, getting catcalls and wolf whistles for her not huge curves
but sufficient womanly qualities. Florine has a pitchfork in her right
hand and is twirling her tail in her left. Walker-Davies's long, blond
hair shines in the various lights that are going off as Arvelle allows
for the lady to move on ahead of him.]

AML: Lads and lassies, these boys come in at a total combined weight
of 543. Y'all know who we are but I gotta tell you again and again
because that brings in the paychecks. Folks, to-night is gonna be a
hot one. Sal and Max don't know what kind of trouble they done got
themselves into because anyone who plays with fire is gonna get seared
by the HEAT!

CL: That has to be the longest entrance in the history of this
business.

["Rock the Casbah" by the Clash plays over the PA System as out steps
Max and Sal. They are dressed in their usual outfits- Sheikh's robes
for Sal, Hassidic Rabbi for Max. But instead of running out as usual,
they stay at the top of aisleway. Max has a large object covered up
with a blanket, while Sal has a house microphone.]

Sal: Good evening, Phoenix! Now, since this is only a one night show,
and Arvelle spent three hours introducing his people, we'll make this
short. As you know, this whole business is over the HIT- the Heat
Invitation Tournament, which Max and I won by beating HEAT. As a
result of our victory, we received the HIT trophy, which was
tragically damaged when HEAT decided to be poor losers and bash us
over the heads with it.

Max: Now, Sal and I consider ourselves both gracious winners and
willing fighters- so we've decided to put up the HIT trophy in this
match. Guys- if you beat us, the trophy is yours.

Sal: But we felt bad about the idea of giving you a broken trophy.
Fortunately, Max earned an 'A' in shop class, so he worked some MAGIC,
if you will, of his own...

[Max dramatically pulls back the blanket, revealing...]

Sal: And he made this lovely Geranium Pot out of the trophy! We worked
around the cracks and splinters, it holds a lovely set of flowers,
they clash a little with Arvelle's outfit but I'm sure he has other
suits that work with it.

Max: Guys- beat us and the trophy is yours.

Sal: Lose to us... and well, that's just Tuesday.

[Max and Sal make their way to the ring as the members of the Heat
glare at their opponents. As Max carries the improved HIT trophy to
the time keepers table Sal slaps the hands of a few young fans at the
ringside area. The two men slide into the ring ...]


________    _________________________________________________________
|_   __  | .' ___  |
| |_ \_|/ .'   \_|              Tag Team Action:
|  _| _ | |   ____           The Heat v. Max and Sal
_| |__/ |\ `.___]  |
|________| `._____.'__________________________________________________



*DING*DING*DING*


CL: And it looks as if the Heat have taken exception to the geranium
pot and all four members of both teams meet in the center of the ring,
in a flurry of fists!

FH: This is gonna be a picnic for the Heat, and that was before what
seeing what Max and Sal did to the trophy! I thought Arvelle was gonna
have a stroke! and speaking of stroking, look at the outfit of miss
Florine...

CL: FRED!

[The referee is finally able to restore a little order leaving only
Paco, and Sal in the ring. The two men circle each other, before
locking up in the center of the ring. Sal pulls Paco into a headlock,
cranking hard before Paco forces him off the ropes, and ducks under as
he returns, but gets smacked in the chops with a quick drop kick from
Sal. Paco though quickly kips up and catches Sal in the chops with a
dropkick of his own. Paco smugly pushes himself back to his feet,
missing Sal kip up to his own feet once and Paco is nailed in the
chops once again with a standing dropkick from Sal. The crowd applauds
Salas he once again kips up.]

CL: Paco a slower getting to his feet this time.

FH: Lucky move by Sal. Paco just needs to warm up a little, that's
all.

CL: That was a very nice dropkick Fred. Would it kill you to give
credit where it is due every now and then?

FH: It just might Chip, it just might...

[Arvelle offers words of encouragement as Paco rolls to his feet,
sizing up Sal. The two men lock up quickly and Sal gains the advantage
pushing Paco to the ropes. Sal with a stiff knife-edge chop followed
up with an Irish whip. Paco rebounds off of the far side ropes and is
taken up and over with a huge backdrop. As Paco sits up from the
impact Sal grabs his arm and drags him towards his corner tagging in
Max. Paco is able to shove Sal away from him but is met with a right
hand by Max that rocks him towards Sal, who catches him with a right
and then back towards Max ...]

CL: And another right hand from Max ... one more from Sal and another
from Max! Paco is looking like a pinball ball here as he crashes to
the mat.

FH: Finally Sal is removed from the ring but Max tags him back in.

[The crowd cheers loudly for Max and Sal as Paco scurries backwards on
his butt quickly.]

FH: Paco creating some distance between Sal and himself before he
stands back to his feet.

[As Sal reaches in for a lock up this time, Paco surprises him with a
quick kick to the knee, and falls backward, grabbing the front of
Sal's tights to slam him face first into the turnbuckles in the Heat's
corner, making the tag to the big man!]

CL: Paco making the tag and the crowd is not having it as both Heat
members begin stomping Sal in the corner!


THUMP!

THUMP!

THUMP!

THUMP!

THUMP!


FH: The best part is that the ref has cut off Max and is actually
making things worse by attempting to help! Haha!

[Max relents, the ref finally forces Paco out, and now Baptiste is
stalking Sal. He pulls him out of the corner and throws him into the
other turnbuckles, following him in with a clothesline. Sal bounces
out into a sidewalk slam!]


"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


CL: Baptiste with a big sidewalk slam and he hooks the leg for a quick
cover.

FH: Short flight, and a really bad landing for Sal!



!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



[The crowd pops in encouragement as Sal kicks out and both men roll to
their feet. Jean lunges forward with a boot, but Sal ducks underneath
and dives into his corner, making the tag to Max to the delight of the
crowd!]

CL: Sal making the hot tag to the larger half of his team Max, who
climbs into the ring and stands face to face with Baptiste, who smiles
and points at the ropes!

FH: Max hits the ropes and the two meet in the center of the ring in a
thunderous shoulder block!

CL: The proverbial irresistible force meets the immovable object! Now
Max is pointing at the ropes and its Baptiste's turn. He hits the
ropes, and the two again crash into the center of the ring with
neither man giving an inch!

FH: Its like watching a demolition derby!

[Both men eye each other as they circle. Baptiste throws a hand into
the air...]

CL: Maxime wants a test of strength as the shoulder block contest was
obviously a draw.

[Max is happy to oblige and reaches in, locking up.]

FH: Now we separate the men from the boys!

[Both men struggle, but again neither man is able to secure any real
advantage as they push and pull. Max gets a little to close to Heat's
corner and catches a kick to the back of the head from Paco that sends
him down to one knee.]

[POP!]

CL: Damn Paco! The Heat can't go two minutes without breaking some
rule!

FH: That is what we in the business call strategy Chip!

[With the crowd behind him Max actually fights back to his feet, and
this time when Paco tries to interfere the ref is there to cut him
off, allowing Sal into the ring to clip Baptiste's knee, allowing Max
to drop a quick elbow across his chest and hold for a surprise quick
cover as the ref turns around...]



!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!



CL: Way too early as Baptiste with a big kickout.

FH: Cheaters! Can't Max and Sal go two minutes without breaking some
rule?!?

CL: You have got to be kidding me?

[Max rings the arm of Baptiste, and makes a tag to Sal who vaults to
the top rope and drops a double axe handle onto the back of the
Caribbean strongman. He drops another elbow to the small of the back
of Baptiste before making another quick tag back to Max, who snaps
Baptiste down with a neckbreaker as Sal slingshots back into the ring
with a springboard splash. The ref recognizes Sal's tag as he flies
into the ring, and he stays in place as he lands for the cover!]

CL: Beautiful quick tags and a nice double team move lead to a cover!



!!! ONE !!!


FH: This cheating is appalling!


!!! TWO !!!



[Another strong kick out by Baptiste. Max pulls him up and to the
delight of the crowd in an amazing show of power lifts him into an
impressive gorilla press before rattling the ring with the massive
carcass of the Miami Pound Machine!]


"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


CL: HUGE Gorilla Press Slam by Max sends Baptiste bouncing all the way
into his own corner, and he makes the tag to Paco!

FH: This is getting borderline ridiculous!

[Paco approaches Max and looks to lock up with the big man but instead
surprises him with a thumb to the eye that sends him staggering. Paco
is quick to follow, kicking Max repeatedly in the knee as he stumbles
into a neutral corner. Now he's just drilling him with kicks to the
ribs in the corner. Max slumps to a seated position, and Paco
celebrates as the crowd voices displeasure.]

FH: RUDO!

CL: You and the Heat are like peas in a pod!

FH: That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me Chipper...

CL: *Sigh*

[Paco rushes into the corner and smacks Max in the much with a
basement dropkick. He drags Max out of the corner and makes the
cover!]

CL: FEET ON THE ROPES!!!



!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!



[Sal makes the save by shoving Paco's feet off the ropes. Paco tags in
Maxime, who quickly snaps Max up and down with a powerbomb and Paco
springboards back into the ring with a legdrop!]


"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!_____


FH: Brilliant teamwork by the Heat!

CL: And Paco goes for a cover!



!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


!!! THR -- !!!



CL: And listen to the crowd roar as Max gets his right shoulder up!

[Paco can't believe it as he slaps the mat in frustration before
standing to his feet and pulling Max up. He reaches and tags back in
Maxime as he whips Max into the far side ropes. Max rebounds off of
the ropes right into a Yakuza kick from Maxime.]


!!! TTTHHHUUUDDD !!!


FH: Did you see Max's head snap back! If he had any brains in there
I'd be worried about them.


[As the crowd boos as Maxime walks back to his corner and tags in
Paco. Maxime stands in his corner as Paco vaults onto the top rope and
in a fluid motion jumps on the the shoulders Maxime and he quickly
leaps off ...]


"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


CL: What a massive frogsplash! Paco leaping off the shoulders of the
six foot five inch Maxime!

[Boos erupt forth from the crowd as Paco hooks Max's leg.]

FH: YES!!

CL: Don't let this be the end!!



!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


!!! THR -- !!!


[HUGE FACE POP!]


CL: NOOOOO! Sal with the save! This is not over yet!

[Paco with stomps as Max fights his way to his feet and backs Paco off
with a right hand, but Paco is like a bulldog and just is all over him
backing him into the ropes with a tornado of offense. He tries to whip
Max across the ring, but Max reverses it and  smacks Paco with a big
right that sends him stumbling into A big right hand from Sal, Rinse
and repeat! Times two!]

FH: Max and Sal again with the cheating!

CL: Paco is getting pinballed in the corner, back and forth between
the two men! Talk about deja vu. Max makes a tag to Sal but not before
bouncing him off the mat with a gutwrench power bomb!


"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


[Sal waits for Paco to get to his feet and drills him with a
springboard drop kick! Sal waves him up as the crowd is getting hot
and hits the ropes. Sal pulls Paco to his feet and locks on a
hammerlock. Paco struggles but Sal keeps him in the center of the ring
and forces Paco to a knee by placing his foot in the back of Paco's
knee.]

FH: Look at the Sal cheating once again!

CL: How is it illegal to step on a man's knee?

[As Paco continues to struggle against the wrenching of his arm by
Sal, Max points at Florine and screams HOT or NOT!]

FH: HOT!

CL: What a surprise.

[Max stomps his feet and begins to chant NOT and the crowd quickly
takes up the chant themselves.]


"NOT!!"          "NOT!!"           "NOT!!"           "NOT!!"

"NOT!!"          "NOT!!"           "NOT!!"           "NOT!!"


FH: These fans are morons.

[Arvelle places his arms upon Florine's shoulders as she is visibly
upset at the crowds words.]

CL: Sal wrenching the arm higher up the back of Paco as he laughs at
Arvelle and Florine.

FH: Despicable!

[Max quickly points at Arvelle and screams HOT or oh forget it.
Arvelle stomps his feet and begins to scream at Max. ]

CL: {chuckles} Paco finally getting back to his feet and he catches
Sal with an elbow to the ribs. Sal releases his grip and Paco grabbing
the arm of Sal.

FH: And RUDO is back in command as he sends Sal into the ropes.

[Paco ducks for a backdrop but Sal counters with a sunset flip and
inadvertently pulls down Paco's tights...]



!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!



FH: Handful of tights! Sal trying to cheat but Paco still manages to
kick out!

CL: And now he's rolled out of the ring to cry to Baptiste and
Arvelle!!

FH: Its called a conference of strategy. Duh! With all the cheating
that Max and Sal have been doing, Arvelle is just offering some
advice!

CL: AND HERE COMES SAL!

[He goes flying over the top rope and out of the ring onto the three
members of the Heat with a giant Tope!]


"PV-DUB!!"          "PV-DUB!!"           "PV-DUB!!"           "PV-
DUB!!"

"PV-DUB!!"          "PV-DUB!!"           "PV-DUB!!"           "PV-
DUB!!"

"PV-DUB!!"          "PV-DUB!!"           "PV-DUB!!"           "PV-
DUB!!"


CL: SAL JUST FLEW OUT OF THE RING AND WIPED OUT THE HEAT AND THE CROWD
IS GOING BANANAS!!! AND MAX HAS RETRIEVED THE FLOWER POT!

FH: WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING!?!

[Max attempts to dump the flower pot over the head of Arvelle but Miss
Florine yanks him out of the way just in time!]

FH: Thank god for Miss Florine. It would have been a shame to get dirt
all over that outfit of Arvelle's. Now the ref needs to get some
control back! Geez!

CL: And he's trying to do just that as he's on the outside now! Maxime
catches Max with a right hand and there's one for Sal! Another right
hand to Sal's jaw forces him back towards the guardrail.

[Max spins Maxime around by the shoulder and drills him with a right
hand a second right hand. Paco breaks away from the commotion and
begins to look under the ring apron.]

CL: What is Paco up to?

FH: I thought I saw Sir Winklepot Cobblestone Ranforth Sandwich
Walker-Davies IV run away from the brawl. So he must be looking for
him.

[Paco retrieves an even bigger trophy from under the ring as the
referee tries to break up the melee.]

CL: Paco's got another trophy!

FH: And it makes the HIT trophy look like a matchstick!

CL: And Paco slides the trophy into the ring.

[As Max winds up for another right hand Arvelle uses the air horn on
him.]

CL: Max gets the full force of the air horn a from Arvelle!

[Max stumbles backwards holding his ears and Paco shoves him under the
bottom rope back into the ring.]

CL: Finally the ref forces them apart! And Sal is going after Arvelle
but Maxime grabs him by the shoulder and drills him with a right hand!

[Inside the ring Max stumbles towards Paco who is wielding the trophy
...]


"___CCCRRRAAACCCKKK___"


[MASSIVE HEEL POP!]

[QUICKLY REPLACED BY BOOS!]


FH: And Paco just cleaned Max's clock!

[Paco tosses the two large pieces of the trophy and hooks Max's leg.
The referee looks into the ring and sees Paco covering Sal, and dives
into the ring!!]



!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



CL: SAL SEE'S THE COVER AND DIVES INTO THE RING!!!



!!! THREE !!!




FH: TOO LATE! THE HEAT DID IT!!!!

CL: YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!! MAX AND SAL GET ROBBED BY THE
SHENANIGANS OF THE HEAT! WHAT A JOKE!


*DING*DING*DING


HD: Ladies and gentlemen ... you're winners of the match ...

!!! THE HEAT !!!

[Paco rolls out of the ring to celebrate with Arvelle, Maxime, and
Miss Florine! Sal glares at Arvelle as he smirks holding the two
pieces of that massive trophy.]

FH: Vindicated! They proved that Max and Sal only won the HIT Trophy
by cheating.

CL: Cheating?

FH: Yes cheating!

CL: What do you think the Heat just did?

FH: They vindicated themselves! That's what they did!

[Paco and Maxime thrust their hands into the air and Arvelle begins to
sing Nah-nah-nah-nah. Nah-nah-nah-nah. Maxime, Paco and Miss Florine
join in Hey-hey-hey: GOODBYE. Arvelle waves his arms trying to get the
crowd to join in but all they do is boo loudly.]

CL: You can bet this wont sit well with Max and Sal.

FH: Fair turn-about and all, Chip.

CL: Max and Sal were dubbed the unofficial number one contenders
before
this match.

FH: I guess that means, The Heat are!

[Among the fans, high above in the Coliseum's bleachers, stands
"Swinging" Dean Hayes. Fans around him are as eclectic as they come; a
fat girl in a Foley T-shirt, a kid wearing a cherry and black Senor
Cloak Dos mask... and a hunched, salt-and pepper haired old man waving
Dean away with his cane...]

SDH: Folks, he was trying to go incognito, but someone recognized him
and I got the tip. He's former wrestler Jack "the Milan Mauler"
Fontana.

[Dean points the microphone towards the decrepit sexagenarian, but the
old man doesn't seem very willing to cooperate. The female Foley fan
grabs her opportunity...]

Fat female fan: WHY, FOLEY? WHY? This was your CHANCE!

[Quickly, Dean reclaims his mic.]

SDH: Um, Mr. Fontana, with the towel match pitting your nephew Perry
Fontana against his brother-in-law "Hellraiser" Tom Landis set to take
place in mere moments, do you have any thoughts?

[Unfortunately for Dean, it's the masked kid that now grabs his five
seconds of fame...]

SCD Kid: CLOAK WAS ROBBED! HE WAS ROBBED! ROB-

[Dean rips the microphone away, and shoves it in Giacomo Fontana's
face. Cornered, the old man sighs, and gives in.]

Uncle Jack: Dino, long time ago, hI was in a match like dis. Maple
Leaf Garden'... brudder hagainss brudder, Fontana versus Fontana, hin
fronnov tousan' an' tousannov fans jus' like in 'ere.

SDH: Luke Vs Jack... It's known as one of the most brutal matches of
that decade, a match that you ended up winning, I believe.

Uncle Jack: Si, dat's true. But... When tings go dat bad, dere's never
any winner hinna match likes dat, no... [He shakes his head.] My 'an',
it be rais-zed dat nights, but I walks witta cane because of dats
match, Dino.

[Old Jacques Fontana waves his cane about.]

Uncle Jack: I proo-ved it be _me_ dah starruv da team, Dino, I win!
But hI did not wins my womans back. An' I never be duh same afters.
My knee... hit don't work good, hI can't go speed, no more
agileetay... an' duh pain... hevery day, all da times, duh pain it be
hallways dere.

[He grimly nods.]

Uncle Jack: Dino, hinna matches like tonights... it be no winner.  A
towel, hit will be thrown-ned. Dere will be a han' dat be ray-zed.
Maybe Tom's, maybe Perry's. But wit' hall da blood an' all duh broken
bone'... dere cannot be a winners.

SDH: That sounds rather ominous...

Uncle Jack: Hit is. Dis ting, its beyon' winning an' losing. De only
thing you can pray for his dat nobody dies, Dino. You jus' 'ave to
'ope dey don't lose deir career, dat tonight, it not be duh Hen' Games
for dem.  Dats hall.

SDH: Sobering words from wrestling great Jack Fontana...

[Both men grimly nod, contemplating the consequences the match to come
could have... when a youth seizes another opportunity!]

SCD Kid: ROBBED! HE WAS ROBBED!

[Dean snaps out of his stupor.]

SDH: Well guys, back to you!

CL: Fontana and Landis going to be brutal.  A different kind of brutal
then we are used to seeing.  Jack said it best ...

FH: Fontana is going to finally end the Landis curse.  Tonight is his
night and his launching pad to greatness.

CL: Speaking of brutal ... It's time.

*WHUMP-ump-ump*

[With the sound of a thunderclap, the lights go out, and the world is
plunged into darkness.  Wind can be heard, chimed in through the PA
system.]

*Thump-thump*

[Red letters knit into existence on PVW's video wall, reading "It Gets
Worse!" then unravel to form a single red line.  The sounding of a
horrible heart is heard, the line reverberating with every noise
played over the PA.]

#I'm over it!#

[Those words, screamed in a-capela by one David Draiman, precede only
briefly an explosion of sound as "Forsaken" bursts out of the PA
system and into the arena.  The camera angle switches as tension
builds; red spotlights brightly illuminating the entrance portal and
the crowd waits.]

#You see I'm falling in the vast abyss.# #Clouded by memories of the
past,# #at last--I see...#

[Abruptly, an intense shower of blood-red sparks sprays out from
before the entrance portal, threatening to set the whole arena on
fire.  Rising on a platform from beneath this flaming masterpiece
emerges a cloaked figure amidst a billowing cloud of smoke.]

#I hear it fading, I can't speak it,#
#or else you will dig my grave.#
#We fear them finding, always whining,#
#take my hand now--BE ALIVE!#

[Reptillian blue eyes highlight the shoulders of his black vinyl robe.
Turning, he seems to, himself, stop the flames from shooting.  His
hooded head stares down at his gnarled hands, bound as they are in red
gauze, clutching a wooden katana in them.]

#You see I cannot be forsaken,#
#because I'm not the only one,#
#We walk amongst you feeding, raping...# #Must we hide from everyone?#

[As if in reply to the lyrics, the dark figure strides powerfully
towards the ring as the lights die.  Darkness closes back in, broken
only by strobing flashbulbs as fans try to get a picture of what can
only be one man...]

HD: Hailing from Detroit, Michigan!  He weighs in tonight at 320
pounds!  Ladies and Gentlemen, this is William Craven!

[Climbing the ringsteps and coming to rest on the apron, Craven looks
out at the crowd one time before ducking between the ropes.  Thrusting
his arms out before him, William slowly parts them, reaching out to
his sides, the robe falling heavily into a heap on the mat, and
revealing his serpent-tattooed, muscular torso.  He then hands his
bo'ken off to the timekeeper and stands.

Receiving a microphone, Craven puts it up to his stitched lips as he
touches his patched eye once in remembrance.]

WC: Cole.

[Face pop!  Craven sneers in response to the very partisan reaction
from the crowd.]

WC: I want to thank you again.  For a few things.  Obviously I've not
given up my vendetta against you in spite of the many that speak to me
on your behalf.  I don't need to take heed of their words as I have my
own angel that sits on my shoulder ... an angel with horns.

You see, Cole, it's something that you said just recently.  You think
this match will be "hell on earth", hm?  Heh, aheh, Cole ...
you've said more than you know.  It isn't the match, Robert ... it's
me.  I'm "Hell on Earth".  Do you understand that?  You, ring
announcer.  Tell the people who I am again and do it correctly this
time.

[Herk Douglas is seen on the outside, surprised at being addressed, he
doesn't react immediately, instead seeming to ask if he's being spoken
to.]

WC: Yes.  Do it.  Do not make me tell you again.

[Eyes shooting wide, Herk puts the microphone to his lips, his
legendary voice cracking once as he begins to speak.]

HD: Hailing from Detroit, Michigan!  He weighs in tonight at 320
pounds!  Ladies and Gentlemen, this is "Hell on Earth" William Craven!

[Chuckling, Craven shakes his head and flops his split tongue out in
Herk's general direction.]

WC: That will do ... I suppose...

CL: The Beast is here!

FH: The Green Monster responsible for leaving Cole in a puddle of
tears and ...

CL: FRED!!!

FH: I'm just telling it like it is, Chip! You don't have to like it,
you don't even have to agree, but there's no denying that Rob Cole has
been yanked out from beneath the bed and forced to his knees in this
feud.

CL: So much history here... from the moment PVW opened it's doors,
from when Craven hid behind the mask of Major Damage and pinned Cole
and then having Cole get a DQ advancement in that title tournament...
this is just a long time coming.

FH: Don't forget Detroit!

CL: We don't really talk about history in other promo...

FH: Forget that! No, I'm talking about it... Rob Cole and Will Craven
circled one another in AWMC but never really went head to head. This
has been a match up from hell that EVERYONE has been looking forward
to... a match that never really got the big stage to shine.

[There's no fan fare entrance, no pyro, no music... but Rob Cole steps
into the aisle, dressed in his white wrestling gear. He pauses at the
entrance and takes a deep breath, shaking his head slowly before
turning to look back at the entrance... he stares out at the fans in
the
arena and puts both hands on his hips, lowering his head in shame.]

CL: Oh no... no no no... Rob, no! Not again! You can't walk away
again?!?!!

FH: Yeah... run, Rob, run! Craven is coming to get you!Look at the
trembling in his shoulders, Chip... LOOK AT HIM!!!!

[The arena goes dark as the drums begin to echo through the arena and
"Ratamahatta"  kicks in. A spotlight suddenly shines and Cole turns
around as the guitars begin to blare throughout the arena! He watches
the ring, angling his head as he studies his opponent and cricks his
neck. The audience suddenly erupts as they see the look in Coles'
eyes... focused, angry, and hateful. He whips his head back and gives
a
scream before suddenly rushing down and sliding beneath the bottom
rope to an eruption as pyro begins to set off the return of the
Outcast! His slide takes him to the center of the ring and he rises to
charge the green monster... ]



________    _________________________________________________________
|_   __  | .' ___  |
 | |_ \_|/ .'   \_|           PVW Super Grudge Match:
 |  _| _ | |   ____            William Craven v. Rob Cole
_| |__/ |\ `.___]  |
|________| `._____.'__________________________________________________



*DING*DING*DING*

FH: NO WAY!!!!

CL: Rob Cole is here for business!!!


>>>>>HUGE GROAN POP!!!!<<<<<<<<<


CL: GOOD LORD!!!! Rob Cole nearly gets his head taken off with that
lariat from Craven! Did you see the back of his head just bounce off
the mat?!?!!!

FH: This is the last hurrah for Rob Cole, Chip... the last gasp before
the end to a storied and idiotic career. Look at the man he has to
face... a giant with green skin, forked tongue, and an almost
insatiable
thirst for violence both in and out of that ring!

CL: And he isn't wasting time, either... hauling Cole to his knees and
DRIVNG a knee to the side of his head! Another knee!! And another...
and
there's a brutal maffia kick! He hauls him up with a blatant choke and
shoves him into the corner! HARD elbow! Referee is trying to put some
space between the men, but Craven just ignores him and starts to choke
Cole!

[Bill leans into the choke, nearly bending Cole backwards over the top
turnbuckle and lifting him a few inches off his feet! Cole gasps,
clutching at Cravens' massive forearms as his feet struggle to find
some sort of purchase... the referee counts and Bill Craven finally
releases the choke at four as the crowd continues to boo!]

FH: Craven with a huge smile as Cole gasps for breath... he moves in
again and whips the Outcast out of the corner! NAILS the former
champion across the ring and Cole just bounces out and drops to both
knees... look at the pain on his face as he holds his back!

CL: And here comes Craven.... BIG BOOT TO THE SKULL!!!!

[Heel pop as Cole is on the ground and Craven spins, grabbing him by
his skull and drag-tossing him back into the corner and forcing his
head against the bottom turnbuckle... where he proceeds to curb stomp
the former champion!]

FH: Craven is curb-stomping Coles' skull against that bottom
turnbuckle... abusing the former champion like no one in this company
has ever done! There is no mercy from Craven, no reprieve for Cole!

CL: The big monster just dragging Cole out of that corner by the
hair...
he hauls him up and DRIVES him back down to the mat from behind! The
green monster is in total control... he hauls Cole up and FOLDS the
former champ in half with an Exploder T-Bone! Once again, the back of
his skull just bounces off that mat and Rob Cole is in a world of
trouble! Craven with a half-hearted cover...



One...





Two...





SHOULDER UP!!!

[Craven nods and reaches down to pull Cole from the mat with a smile,
eager to see the Outcast continue to stay in this match. He snaps Cole
over and hooks a chinlock on from behind, wrenching Coles' neck back
against his knee as the referee checks on Robs' refusal to tap out!]

FH: Craven is just breaking Cole down... he's going to work on the
neck
and head like a man possessed as the former champion shows no sign of
fighting back, Chip. This match belongs to William Craven, and the
green monster is finally going to break his way out of the shadow of
Rob Cole tonight!

CL: After weeks of abusive attacks, Rob Cole was poised to just walk
on this business altogether... William Craven had Cole run out of here
but he wants more than that! He's just not happy enough to ruin Coles'
career... he wants to end Coles' life! With the way he's twisting back
on that chinlock, we may see Rob Cole's head pop off and an end to his
life!

[Craven continues to twist and yank at the chin, straining Coles' neck
until he finally releases and drags Cole to the ground... He rises and
DROPS a hard stomp across the chest! The crowd continues to give him
heat as he peels Cole up off the mat... scoops and SLAMS him down
again!]

CL: Craven leaps up high... and DRIVES a boot across the sternum of
Rob
Cole!

FH: This is just flat out torture, Chip! Rob Cole is a play thing in
the hands of Craven. Look at him grovel at the feet of the giant...
it's
pathetic! If anyone deserves this kind of treatment, it's Rob Cole...
just look at his history! Look at the way he won that title... the way
he defended it... he was always a place holder for better men, Chip!

CL: William Craven is here to take Rob Cole out of commission... he's
promised to end Rob Cole in every way that counts and he's making good
on his promise right now! And he just drags the former champion to the
ropes... draping him over the bottom rope and just STEPPING ON THE
BACK OF HIS NECK!!!!

FH: And Craven pulls up on that top rope, forcing his own weight and
more down across the back of Coles guillotined neck!

[Craven finally stops punishing Cole and hauls him up and armdrags the
big man over, hooking the arm in a top lock as he rises and DRIVES a
fist in with the heartpunch!]

CL: Cole collapses to one knee, but William Craven isn't letting him
stay down... he's holding him up by that locked arm! He whips Cole
into the corner! The Outcast just leans back, his face contorted in
pain as Craven comes charging in... AND MEETS A DESPERATE BOOT!!!

FH: Look at him clutch at his chest, though! His sternum might be
cracked!

CL: Some life from the former champion! Craven staggered back and Cole
comes out of that corner with a stiff forearm to the jaw! And he just
rams Craven head first into the turnbuckle!

FH: This is last gasp desperation, Chip... nothing more!

[The crowd is behind Cole as delivers a kick to the midsection and
then drops an elbow across the back of a smiling Craven! The big man
drops to one knee and doubles Cole over with a shot to the
midsection...
followed by a quick rake of the eye that staggers the former champion
back!]

FH: SEE?!?!?!! Just like that, and the Outcast is back on the
defensive Chip!

CL: And Craven with another clothesline puts Cole back to the mat! The
former champion is struggling to get his feet beneath him, and William
Craven just pulls him off the mat and scoops him up... THUNDER MELTER
SUPLEX!!!!

[The crowd is stunned and Craven rises, staring down at the prone body
of Rob Cole with a smile. He takes a moment to soak in the response
and then drops to his knees, putting one hand on the chest of Rob
Cole!]


Cover.... ONE!!!!






TWO....






KICKOUT!!!!

[Craven claps his hands as he rises, staring down at the dazed Cole
with a smile... encouraging Cole to get up! The Outcast rolls to his
side... and gets another stomp to the side of his head! The fans
continue to jeer Bill and he delivers another stomp for good measure!]

FH: This is an absolute massacre on the paper tiger! William Craven is
just tearing him apart... focusing on the head, the same place where
all
those sick thoughts of Cole originated! HAH!!! Maybe he's finally
knocking sense into the "Outcast", huh Chip?

CL: Not to agree with you, Fred; but Rob Cole has been on the
receiving end of some brutal punishment over the past couple of weeks
and on this very evening! William Craven has been in complete control
and he just scoops Rob up again... and gutwrenches him high up and
DRIVES him back into the corner!

FH: Cole's back just snaps against those turnbuckles and he lands on
the back of his head... beautiful power move from Craven!

[Craven wanders the ring a little as Cole struggles to breathe and
catch his bearings... he finally pulls his knees beneath him and tries
to grab the middle turnbuckle, only to have his head yanked back!]

CL: Cole in a world of trouble as Craven pulls him back toward the
center of the ring... and DRIVES him down with a high angle shotgun
clothesline!

FH: Cole is dead! This is beautiful, Chip... to watch the end of a
mindless brawlers' career come to an end. To no longer live under the
shadow of a man like Cole?!?!! This is great!!!

CL: And Craven pulls him to his feet... scoops him up on one
shoulder... PRESS LIFT OVER HIS HEAD!!! LOOK AT THAT POWER!!!!!

FH: Raw power from the Dragon! It's time to crush the so-called knight
like the tin can he always was!

[Flash bulbs pop throughout the arena as Craven hoists the 280+ pound
Cole over his head! He holds the big man aloft and finally turns...
and
DROPS him throat first across the top rope!!!]

FH: He just dumped Cole to the ring apron like a sack of GARBAGE,
Chip!

CL: Rob Cole sent to the outside by that drop across the top rope,
barely holding on to the ring apron as he clutches his throat... and
Craven hits the ropes and charges in!!!! BIG BOOT!!!!

FH: He's not holding on anymore!!!! Cole sent into that guardrail!!!!

[There's a hardcore heel pop as William Craven steps over the top rope
and stares down at the batted Cole, clutching his throat from the
impact with that guardrail.... He kicks his feet and struggles to
breathe as Craven drops off the apron and stalks behind him!]

CL: And Craven with both hands around the neck from behind!!! He's
lifting Cole and spinning him.... GOOD GOD!!!! He just RAMS Cole into
the ring post!!!! AND AGAIN!!!! Handful of hair yanks Cole back...

FH: And SMASHES him into that guardrail again! Those fans are getting
an up close view to the action as Craven just drives those huge fists
down across the face of our paper tiger! GET HIM!!!

CL: Craven yanks him back up... and drives him face first into the
ring apron!

[Craven yanks back Cole, staring at his face with a sick grin as blood
begins to flow from an open cut on his forehead. He hauls the former
champion back and then sends him rolling into the ring again to a huge
heel pop! Craven laughs and rolls in after Cole... rises and DROPS
across the mans chest with a splash!]

FH: Another cover....





One!!!!







TWO!!!!







THR... Kickout?!?!!!!

[Huge face pop as Craven gets up, furrowing his brows... he grins a
little and shakes his head before slapping his hands together! He
pulls Cole up as he stands and just slaps the former champion across
the face! He slaps him again! And again! Camera moves in close on the
dazed Cole, a steady rivulet of blood stream down the left side of his
forehead, across his nose and down into his mouth where it dribbles
out down his chin. His eyelids flutter and he sways.]

CL: Rob Cole barely able to stand, getting slapped across the face by
William Craven!

FH: Because he's a punk! He's always been a punk! Rob Cole has always
been all talk... that's all he ever does is talk and yap about how
scary
he is and everyone runs and hides! The Paper Tiger is revealed for all
that he really is at long last!

CL: Craven hits the rope... and sends Cole rear over teakettle with a
HUGE clothesline! The crowd is full of venom right now... as William
Craven just stares at the struggling former champion, pulling his
knees beneath him as he struggles to rise! Struggles to breathe!

[The crowd begins to stomp in support of Cole, and Craven nods as Cole
begins to pull shaky legs beneath him and finally pulls himself to his
feet... blood smeared across the one side of his face where several
rivulets have splattered down.]

FH: And here comes Craven... Both hands around the throat for Thunder
Melter!!!!

CL: But Cole with a kick to the knee... Craven releases one hand ...
ARMDRAG!??!?!!! Rob Cole pulls Craven over with an armdrag and
struggles to his knees as Craven is up quick! Rushing for ....

*FACE POP!!!!!*

CL: Rob Cole ducks the big boot... and sends Craven face first into
the
mat with a trip?!?!!

FH: A trip?!?!!! HE just grabbed the ankle and yanked it out from
under Craven!!! What kind of wrestling is that?!?!!!

[Enough for Cole to roll his body to the ropes and pull himself up as
Craven rolls to his own feet and finds his own cut opened... a look of
anger washing over his face as he charges Cole! The Outcast suddenly
surges up and catches Craven with a double leg takedown... takes a
mount
and suddenly starts to pound down right elbows across the forehead!]

*HUGE FACE POP!!!!*

CL: Elbow after elbow, Rob Cole is back in the schoolyard!

FH: You have to be kidding me!??!!!  He can barely stay on his feet...
this is nothing but adrenaline, Chip! It runs out eventually.... He
can't keep this up!

CL: Cole is up with a roar and the fans are on their feet as Craven
rolls to one knee... Rob Cole charges and DRILLS a falling yakuza kick
to the side of the head! The former champion is already rolling to his
feet... and he cinches Craven and SNAPS him over with a suplex!

[Cole rises, eyes burning with hatred as he meets the rising Craven
with a rushing knee!!! He spins drops, grabbing Craven by his head and
driving it back into mat over and over again... he just starts
pounding
the big mans head against the mat!]

FH: What the hell?!?!!! He's going crazy in there... someone has to
stop
him!!! What kind of lunatic calls this wrestling, huh?!?!!

CL: This is personal, Fred! Craven went after the mans FAMILY!!! Rob
Cole isn't exactly looking to go hold for hold tonight... and after
the
beating he's received, I'm not surprised to see him go a little crazy!
Just pounding the back of Cravens' head into the mat and now he's
up...
And he drops an elbow across the chest!




COVER.... ONE!!!!!







TWO.....







KICKOUT!!!!

FH: With authority, Chip! Craven is only a little winded ...

CL: Rob Cole wiping the blood from his eye as he pulls Craven to his
feet... and delivers a headbutt! Both men stagger back from the
impact... Craven dropping to one knee as Cole shakes the cobwebs loose
and here he comes... SHINING WIZARD?!?!?!!!

FH: Did you see that?!?!!! Rob Cole just hit William Craven with the
shining wizard?!?!!! Since when does Cole do a shining wizard?!?!!!

CL: Rob Cole has often utilized a number of different moves and
styles, adding them to his arsenal for special moments like tonight.
William Craven is knocked senseless as Rob Cole struggles to recover
from his earlier beating this evening!

FH: It's costing him time, though... time he desperately needs to put
an offense on William Craven before the Green Horror from the Deep
rises once again!

CL: Did you... did you just read that off a note card? Have you had
that waiting?!?!!

FH: I thought it was clever...

CL: Cole drops a forearm as Craven rises... he cinches an armbar and
DRIVES an elbow into the tricep, forcing Bill down to one knee again
as he cranks the hold! He's forcing the big man down, taking away the
leverage of the green skinned behemoth and capitalizing in order to
catch his bearings...

[Cole drives another elbow down across the stretched triceps as Craven
attempts to lift off his knee, growling through the pain as the former
champion elevates the extension and quickly transitions into a
halfnelson-wrestlock that forces Craven down to the mat!]

FH: This is just odd... Rob Cole is bringing this match to the mat,
attempting to wear down the bigger Craven with an actual wrestling
hold. He cranks that arm and Craven is forced to carry 280 + pounds on
his one shoulder... this is smart, but it's entirely unlike the madman
we've seen for the past few months.

CL: Basic mat techniques from Cole and Craven is starting to push
against the Outcasts leverage... rising slowly and Cole releases the
half-nelson for a keylock transition that forces Craven against the
mat!!! SHOULDERS DOWN!!!!





One....





Two...




SHOULDER UP!!!!

FH: But the pressure is back on that key-locked arm!

CL: The crowd was cheering but it dies down when Craven got his
shoulder off the mat.... Cole cranks hard on the hold and forces
Craven down again!  Crowd is roaring....


ONE





TWO...




SHOULDER UP!!!!

FH: Cole can't expect to beat Craven with this kind of wrestling...
but maybe he isn't really looking for a pin here! Craven is just
feeding pain into that arm every time he rolls the shoulder up. Blood
and sweat dripping from the face of our paper tiger... he can't
maintain this pressure!

[Cole blinks the blood from his eyes and Craven suddenly rolls
forward, quickly relieving the pressure before grabbing Coles own arm
and twisting underneath with a hammerlock on the mat.... Cole quickly
spins under Craven, reversing the hammer and ducking underneath in
order to yank Craven over with a fireman takedown and BACK into the
top wrist lock! The crowd is on their feet as Craven suddenly hauls
up... Lifting Cole off the mat through the pain!!!]

CL: Chain wrestling from the best brawlers in the business?!?!!!
Craven lifting Cole straight up, but Cole twists his body up and
over.... Go-behind and he's going for the cobra clutch!!!

FH: NO!!! Craven twists out and snatches a go.... THE DEAD ZONE!!!!

[Cole is yanked back into Craven's own submission hold... and the
crossface chickenwing brings a choked scream of anguish from Cole as
he is hauled off his feet!!!! Craven normally shakes people like a
ragdoll, but his own face contorts in pain as he uses that worked over
arm to lift a 280 pound former champion!!!]

CL: The Dead Zone is locked in... the dead zone is LOCKED IN!!!!!

FH: There's no escape for Cole... not only is he going to ruin the
man's career, he's going to make him give up! He's going to force the
Monster Beneath the Bed to surrender... to call it quits... to say
that he can no longer take the pain!!!

[Craven cranks the hold and gives Cole a shake, wincing from the
pressure on his own arm as blood begins to flow down his own face...
he continues to hold Cole up, and the camera focuses in on Coles own
face... the crimson mask drenching half his features, his eye swollen
shut from his earlier beating as Craven forces another cry from the
battered former champion.]

CL: Craven lowers Cole and yanks him one way... then the other... Rob
Cole is utter agony... and another scream just ripped out of his
throat as Craven hauls him up again!!! This is torture, Fred! Rob Cole
is refusing to give in, even now... even with his body torn and
battered, he keeps refusing to surrender!

FH: But that's what Craven wants, Chip! Look at the smile twist his
features as he hears Cole refusing the referee's question... refusing
to submit to The Dead Zone, letting Craven just yank that shoulder one
way and then the other, tearing the ligament as Cole feels his bone
grinding! There's no escape from this hold, Chip... not from a man the
size of Craven!

[Craven drops Cole to the mat again, cranking the hold left... and
then right... and then left again as Cole swings wild with his free
arm and manages to grab the top rope!!! Craven yanks, but Cole refuses
to release the rope... the referee starts demanding that Craven
release the hold... and Craven looks FURIOUS!!!]

CL: Rob Cole with the presence to grab that top rope... Craven doesn't
want to release the hold, he's refusing the referee's order and Mark
Barnett is warning him! He's starting to count.... Craven keeps trying
to pull Cole away from the rope...




One....






Two....






Three....

FH: He's not going to release the hold!!!









Four....






[And Craven just drops Cole and the former champion drops to the mat,
still holding on to that top rope... sliding upward to get his feat
beneath him as he wraps his arm around the rope. The crowd is roaring
but Craven cuts them off by suddenly charging and DRILLING the Outcast
with a kneelift against the ropes!]

CL: And Craven is back on the attack, keeping Coles' arm draped over
that top rope as he shoves his neck down across the middle... and he
just puts pressure with a knee to the back, shoving Cole down while
holding his arm over that top rope! The blood flows down the face of
Rob Cole... dripping to the apron below!

FH: Look at the fury in Craven's eyes, Lester... look at the hatred
and
anger as he just punishes Rob Cole!

CL: The big man charges the ropes... and PLANTS a knee in the back of
Cole! And that middle rope just launches him back into the ring...

FH: Those steel cables have very little give, Chip... and when you
feel them snap back against you like that, it feels like a blatant
slap from a bullwhip!

CL: And a cover from Craven....




One...








Two...







KICKOUT!!!!

FH: Why does he do it, Chip?!?!!! Why does Rob Cole keep kicking out?
He came here to defend his family... well, the moment he's beaten then
maybe Craven will finally lose interest in Cole... maybe that will
keep his family safe. At the very least, it will end this torment for
him!

CL: In all the years I've sat behind this desk and watched Cole in
that ring he has never just lain down... he has never just given up
when he was able to stand. He's been beaten but he's never just lain
down and taken the easy way out!

[William Craven isn't smiling this time... he simply stands and pulls
Cole up! He shoves the Outcast into a corner and SNAPS a chop down
across the chest! Another chop! The crowd gives the "whooo!" and
Craven stares out at them with anger... he turns and shoves Cole in
hard before WHIPPING him out!]

FH: Cole sent for the ride!!!!

//// SICKENING CRACK!!!!!\\\\\\\

[Cole hits the opposite turnbuckle and his back spasms as he ricochets
out and wobbles down to one knee, clutching the small of his back with
a look of horror... his features go pale and Cole just sort of
crumples down to the mat as the audience gasps on.]

CL: Good god!!!! The steel turnbuckle right into the small of Coles'
back.... Referee Mark Barnett is down and checking on Cole, his leg
just spasms from the impact to his spinal cord! Craven stares on with
a sick smile... a SICK smile!

FH: I don't think you want him to hear you, Chip....

CL: I don't care!!! I just don't care! He dragged Rob Cole into this
battle... he brutalized the man, threatened his family, and now look
at the broken ruin of a former champion just crumpled up like used
garbage! This is just sickening!

FH: And Craven just shoves past the referee and yanks Cole to his
feet... scoop and a HARD slam down on that back again!

[Scoops up Cole.... And gut wrenches him up before dropping him spine
first across the knee!!! Cole's scream is audible to the camera mics
as he is bent backward over the knee of Craven! The look of glee in
Craven's eye turns wild as the referee leans down to beg for a
submission. Cole screams, "NO!!!" and Craven just cranks the hold....
Before standing and dumping Cole on the mat.]

CL: Rob Cole clutches the small of his back, curling his knees beneath
him as he rises... and Craven pulls him back by his hair and LAYS him
back with a falling lariat! Another cover...



One....













Two....










Thr... kickout!!!!!

FH: Oh, please!!!

[The audience doesn't pop for this kick out either... and Craven
shakes his head in disgust and leans down to SLAP Cole across the
face! He does it again! And again! The green skinned monster pulls
Cole up... he turns him around and wrenches an arm back with a
chickenwing!]

CL: Craven going for The Dead Zone again... but Cole fighting back!
Right elbow backward! Another elbow!  Craven releases the
chickenwing... and Cole spins into a knee lift against Craven's thigh!
Another knee to the thigh and Craven backs up a step in surprise! Knee
to the midsection as Cole follows through!

FH: What's he doing?!?!!! Cole hooking both hands around the head of
Craven, forcing him over as he delivers another knee to the chest! And
another!!!!

[Cole screams out and suddenly hauls Craven up with a forward
waistlock... and DRIVES him into the corner!!! The shoulder follows...
another... and another!!!! He hauls Craven up again.... Seating him on
the top turnbuckle!]

CL: Cole going for the trifecta!!!! He climbs the turnbuckles and
cinches Craven.... But Craven holds on to the top rope!

FH: He can't do it!!! He can't get him over... not with his back in
that condition!!!!

[Cole stops trying and drops down to the mat, one foot still on the
second rope as he shoots an elbow beneath the jaw of Craven! Cole
suddenly springboards up... and plants a knee in Craven's jaw! He
manages to get his foot on the top rope and gets his other foot up....
He holds on to Craven with both fingers lace behind the man's neck!]

FH: What's he trying to do, Chip!!!!

CL: Cole is up... HOLY CRAP!!!!!

*HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!*

[Rob Cole is balanced on the top rope and he suddenly shoves forward,
rolling over Craven with a sunset flip.... Cinching the waist on his
way down and his feet landing on the ring apron!  He yanks Craven
over... and holds him upside down for a brief moment before stepping
off the apron!  The green skinned monster hits nothing but cement as
Rob Cole NAILS the sitting piledriver on the arena floor!!!!]

//// PVW!!!! PVW!!!! PVW!!!! PVW!!!! ///////

FH: They're broken!!! They're both broken on the arena floor, Chip!
Both men are done for... there's no way Cole is ever going to get up
again... he put his life on the line for the last time! He cannot just
nail the piledriver on Craven off the apron... I can't believe he did
that!!!!

CL: Rob Cole couldn't hit his favorite triple move... so he opted for
an alternative, putting his life and career on the line once again
with a sitting piledriver off the apron!  William Craven is out and
Rob Cole is lying beside him, his leg still shaking from earlier
damage to his back! Both men wearing at least half crimson mask
each.... Both men battered and broken by the events of their match,
this feud becoming a brutal war over the past several months!

FH: Mark Barnett... our official for this contest... he doesn't know
what to do! He should start counting both men out, but they may need
medical attention immediately... DON'T JUST STAND THERE!!!!

[The referee finally shakes his head and dives to the outside of the
ring... checking on the condition of both men just as William Craven
suddenly rises to his knees and woozily reaches for the ring barrier,
pulling himself up as he reaches up to clutch the bloody wound on his
forehead. Barnett turns to Cole, who continues to lie there... ]

CL: Barnett checking on Cole... but Craven isn't giving him a chance!
A running stomp to the back of the neck!!!

FH: But Craven can't keep his balance... he falls forward and drops to
one knee!

[Cole clutches the back of his head and pulls a knee beneath him,
turning to grab the apron as he rises... and staggers toward Craven as
the big man tries to stand! He grabs a waistlock... and wrenches
Craven back with a scream of his own, dropping backward into a belly
to back suplex!]

CL: And a sickening thud on the cement floor!

FH: Sickening is right... this match is sickening!

[Cole begins to roll to his knees as the referee begins to count them
down.... ]



One.....





Two...


[Cole begins to crawl toward the ring apron... pulling himself up
toward the ring with a dazed look in his eyes. Half his face is
absolutely red, nearly black in places from the combination of
bruising and a nearly gushing wound.]


Three....



[Craven reaches up... he grabs on to Coles' leg as the Outcast tries
to struggle into the ring, using him to gain a vertical base... He
snarls and DRIVES a forearm into the back of the neck!]



Four.....







Five....





[Cole drives an elbow, breaking the hold from Craven... but Craven
returns with a forearm to the back! Cole's back spasm brings him down
to his knees as Craven climbs up and over him.]




Six.....


[Cole grabs the leg now... and pulls himself up, wrapping a waistlock
as he wrenches back!]



Seven....




[Craven tries to kick him off, but Cole continues to twist and starts
to jerk his body to the side.]





Eight.....






Nine.....





[Craven hauls Cole up onto the apron to break the hold... And Cole
drags Craven up, both men rolling over the bottom rope in their
struggle as they twist... and start to throw jabs, punches, and
basically brawl on the mat... the referee shows that the count is
broken and both men continue to struggle on the mat!]

CL: Both men break the count... but I don't think it really matters to
either one of them! They brawl on the floor... and Rob Cole catches a
forearm to the side of the head! Another one and Craven breaks
free.... He staggers to his feet as Rob Cole crawls up in the corner!

FH: HERE COMES CRAVEN!!!!!

/////CRASH!!!!//////

CL: BIG SPLASH!!!! Cole just clutching at his ribs... staggering from
the corner as Craven measures him and drives a back elbow beneath the
jaw! And now Craven with a choke on the wounded Cole and referee
Barnett is calling for a break once more....

FH: Craven just choking the life from Cole!



One....








Two....







Three.....







Four....







[Craven releases the choke and stalks back away from Cole, smiling
once more as The Outcast drops down to one knee.... He moves in and
cinches a front chancery, hauling Cole up and out of the corner with a
HUGE vertical suplex!]


/////// THUD!!!! ////////


CL: And Craven rolls over, hooking the leg again!!!!







One....








Two....









KICKOUT!!!!!

FH: And look at Craven! He doesn't look happy about that kick out and
now he just peels Cole off the mat....


*FACE POP!!!!!*

CL: SMALL PACKAGE ROLL UP!!!!!!






ONE!!!!!









TWO!!!!!







KICKOUT!!!!!!

FH: I don't believe it!  Cole almost had Craven for a moment, but now
the big man is back up to his feet!!!!

CL: Craven charges Cole as he rises and DRILLS him with a big boot!
His eyes are furious as he leans down and hauls Cole UP by the
throat!!!!  The Outcast flails and delivers a kick to the knee...
another kick.... He loosens the hold! Rob Cole to the ropes...



\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\*HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!*////////////////



FH: THUNDERMELTER!!!!!!

[Craven catches Cole and HAULS him up with a single motion... he holds
him for a split moment, flash bulbs going off throughout the arena
before he jumps and DRIVES Cole down!!!]

CL: Rob Cole driven into the mat with a sickening explosion... and the
bloodied William Craven rises to his knees, the lights of the arena
continuing to flash as the big green monster kneels above the broken
body of a former champion!

FH: Watch him breathe, Chip!!! A cleansing breath as the end of Rob
Cole is only a three count away!!!

CL: William Craven has hunted Cole... he has lured Cole in, he has
hung Cole out to dry, and now he stands above the battered body of his
opponent. No matter what anyone says... Rob Cole stood toe to toe with
the monster despite the fear and the pain...


FH: But it doesn't mean a dang thing! He makes the cover and hooks a
leg....







One!!!!











Two!!!!











THREEE... WHAT THE HELL!?!?!!!

[Huge eruption of a pop as Rob Cole manages to lift one arm JUST
before the hand drops and William Craven sits up, his eyes wide with
shock as he stares down at Cole. He runs one hand over his bloodied
forehead, shaking his head in denial as Cole slowly rolls to his side
and struggles to pull one knee beneath him.]



*YOU CAN DO IT!!! *CLAP! CLAP! CLAPCLAPCLAP!!!!*

YOU CAN DO IT!!!! *CLAP! CLAP! CLAPCLAPCLAP!!!!*

YOU CAN DO IT!!!! *CLAP! CLAP! CLAPCLAPCLAP!!!!*

YOU CAN DO IT!!!! *CLAP! CLAP! CLAPCLAPCLAP!!!!*



CL: Listen to this crowd?!?!!!  Fred... I can't believe it... Rob Cole
kicked out!

FH: It was instinct and nothing more... Cole is dead! COLE IS DEAD!!!
COLE IS DEAD!!!! DEAD DEAD DEAD!!!!!

[Craven suddenly bursts up to his feet and drops a heavy stomp across
the back of Coles' head! Another one! And another one! He yanks Cole
upward and wraps one hand around the former champions neck.... ]

*HUGE FACE POP!!!!*

CL: Cole twists his hip and pulls Craven into a judo toss!!! Both men
on the ground and Cole with the cover....


One...







Kickout!!!!









[Craven rolls to his feet... and suddenly gets them scooped out from
beneath him as Cole goes for another vertical press!!!]







One!!!!








Tw.... KICKOUT AGAIN!!!!







[Craven gets up and swings a huge lariat... and Cole ducks, grabs a
waistlock from behind and YANKS Craven back into a schoolboy roll
up... AND COLE CONTINUES INTO THE BRIDGE!!!! ]





ONE!!!!!








TWO!!!!!











THREEE?!?!?!!!!!!







NO!!!! KICKOUT!!!!


/////// * HUGE "THIS IS AWESOME!!!!" CHANT!!! \\\\\\\


FH: OHMYGOD!!! OHMYGOD!!! OHMYGOD!!! OHMYGOD!!! Craven ... He... he
almost had himself pinned and look at the surprise on his features as
both men roll apart!!!

CL: This has to be in his head!!! This has got to be in his head,
Fred!!! Where does he go?!?!?! WHAT does he have to do to put Cole
down!??!!!

[Rob begins to grab the second rope, pulling himself upward as he
struggles to find the rising Craven through bleary eyes. The crowd is
on their feet as Craven suddenly comes charging, and Rob Cole springs
off the second rope to double the big man with a head to the gut! Cole
rises and underhooks both arms, gasping for breath!!!]


CL: CAST OUT POWERBOMB!!!!!


*HUGE ROAR!!!!!!*


[The crowd is going crazy as Cole's muscles tense... and up he
goes!!!!]







////////*THUUUUUUUDDDDDD!!!!*\\\\\\\\\







FH: DENIED!!!!!


CL: William Craven with the backdrop reversal!!!!


FH: And he drops those knees across the shoulders!!!!! THIS IS A
PIN!!!!!!





ONE!!!!







TWO!!!!!





KICK.... ?!?!?!!!!







[CRAVEN GRABS THE MIDDLE ROPE AND LEANS FORWARD AS ROB COLES' LEGS
KICK!!!!! ]






THREE!!!!!!!







*DING DING DING!!!!!*


[The crowd erupts into heat as Craven suddenly rolls away from Cole
and to the outside of the ring... the referee follows and raises his
hands, but Craven yanks his arm away and turns to face the man he just
beat inside. He shakes his head for a moment... a frown on his
features as Rob Cole rolls to one knee and grabs that same middle
rope.]


HD: Ladies and Gentlemen... here is your winner.... WILLIAM...
CRAVENNNN!!!!!!!!


FH: This is it!! This is the end of Cole, just like I predicted!!!
Look at the lost lamb in there... led to slaughter by the green-
skinned monster!

CL: I... I don't know about that, Fred.... Something seems wrong about
this situation! Look at both men... Craven looks angrier than ever
before! And Rob Cole... he looks...

[The camera focuses on Cole as he stares at that middle rope... his
eyes clear a little and he looks past the rope toward his opponent,
then back at the rope. He shakes his head in shock... and starts to
smile. As Craven looks on, Rob Cole begins to rise... he uses the
ropes but he starts to rise and stares down at William Craven. Both
men continue to watch one another as Craven's theme blares over the
loudspeakers.

"Forsaken continues to play as Craven rolls from the ring.  Utterly
beside himself, he heads straight up the center of the entrance aisle,
rubbing his face with one hand, spinning around, seemingly unable to
collect his thoughts.]

FH: Another epic win for the Motor City--excuse me, "Hell on Earth"
William Craven!

CL: I think we can still call him the Motor City Madman Fred but can't
you see that this isn't the real story?  Craven could not put Rob Cole
away!  He had to resort to cheating.  Not garbage fighting, not
hardcore tactics but a shortcut ... holding the ropes!  When was the
last time you saw William Craven holding the ropes to get a pin?

FH: Never, I guess, but a win is a win!

CL: Not for Craven.  Wait!

[Rolling from the ring, seemingly ready for more carnage, Rob Cole
walks towards the entrance aisle.]

CL: Rob Cole is going to get himself another piece of the big green
monster!

[Rounding the corner, Cole stops cold as a fan shouts his name.]

??: Cole!

[Turning, incredulous, Cole stops and looks at a man in a Senor Cloak
Dos mask.]

FH: Senor Cloak Dos wants a piece of Rob Cole!

CL: No, he's not the right build and he's wearing streetclothes
besides!

??: Do you remember, Rob?  Do you remember what started it all?

[Shaking his head, Cole reaches up, tugging at his left ear in stress.
Turning, he bolts, walking briskly towards the back but, seemingly, no
longer in pursuit of Craven.]

CL: What was that all about?

FH: Cole caring about fans too much.  Who cares?

CL: No, I think it was more than that.  Fans, we have to move on--

[The good ole PVW backdrop (you know the one: phoenix with Phoenix
Valley Wrestling on it) is behind none other than Todd "The Rod"
Johnstone and Dean Hayes.]

Dean Hayes: So, Todd...

[Johnstone spits in the general direction of Dean. Johnstone wipes his
mouth with the sleeve of his pond scum brown business suit. The suit
is grouped with a rotting frog green shirt, alligator skin tie and
that old Brown Belt from Sears.]

Todd Johnstone: I don't want to hear a single peep out of your suck
hole, you got that Dean?

DH: Excu...

[Todd decides to tap Dean on the head with the silver orb cane top on
his black finish walking device.]

TJ: I told you to keep your ooze dribbling glory hole gobbling kisser
shut, you got that Dean?

[Deano responds to this question by glaring at Todd.]

TJ: Good. I'm going to make this short and sweet: tonight Todd "The
Rod" Johnstone is going to make his presence known to those vapid
little twits in the PVW front office. Tonight is my night. My boys,
every single one of the men smart enough to entrust their careers and
fortunes with the #3 manager of all time, according to Illustrated
Wrestling Weekly, are going to have the largest pay offs in their
careers. People will be driven out, hearts will be broken, dreams will
be pissed on and the Rod will be smiling all the way to the bank. Got
some stupid question now Dean?

[Dean shakes his head, not to answer Johnstone, but to register his
doubts.]

DH: Do you expect the PVW fans to believe that anyone is going to
allow you and your crew to run roughshod over this federation?

[A nasty laugh escapes Todd's mouth. Todd laughs so hard and so much
that he coughs and a bit of phlegm lands on Dean's shoulder. Dean is
mortified but Todd is all yellowed teeth and vile smile.]

TJ: Allow? No one can say whether or not Gibson Hayes can do anything.
No one can tell PAIN they aren't going to win tonight unless that
person is Theodore Roderick Johnstone III!

[Todd pokes Dean with his cane.]

TJ: You got that, you retard? Hell, PVW only keeps you on because of
quotas anyhow. Nobody is stopping the Rod and company. This is my
night, PVW. Bend over and get your therapist on the horn because when
the Rod and Crew is done with you, you're going to need all the
therapy you can get.

[Cut back to ring side.]

CL: ...

FH: Todd telling it how it is baby!

CL: I can only take a guess what the hell that meant.  As usual I was
too busy cringing at the language.

FH: You have to read between the lines with Todd, Chip.

CL: I am just glad we are on PPV.  Parents I apologize ... Every time
we cut  back to Todd Johnstone I just know things aren't going to go
good.

FH: You need to stop disrespecting the wrestling genius, Chip.

CL: Speaking of Todd ... His old friend is due up next.

FH: Who is that?

CL: The American Champion.

[The lights are dimmed, crimson light bathing the audience. As
"Rooster" by Alice In Chains plays over the PA, the camera focuses on
the large, imposing figure of Marcus Manson, heading towards the
ring.]

HD: Introducing first, standing at six foot nine and weighing in at
two hundred and ninety four pounds ... From Pittsburgh,
Pennsylvania...


Here is ...


THE MISERY MACHINE ...

MARCUS MANSON !!!



[Clad in full length black tights, red knee pads, and black boots,
Manson is the picture of focus.  He's not really interested in the
fans, who are greeting him with a heel response.  He adjusts the black
leather glove on his right hand, and idly stretches his right arm to
limber up as he arrives at ringside.  His long black hair is pulled
back into a ponytail, and his expression is cold.]

CL: Oof... every time he makes an appearance, this guys sucks the life
right out of the place.

FH: Reminds me of my ex...

[Manson ascends the ring steps, gets to the apron, and looks back at
the crowd... finally acknowledging them with a brief glare, before
entering the ring.]

CL: Marcus Manson looks like he's contemplating murder, tonight....

FH: Don't be dim, Chip. It's not murder if the victim is some
foreigner.

CL: Yes it is.

FH: Really?

CL: Yes, Fred.

FH: I'll just make a quick call, then.  Be right back!

[As the low strains of "Rooster" fade to nothing, "I Remember" by Low
starts playing over the arena's sound system. The audience starts to
cheer, although they have never heard this entrance music before, they
know who it must belong to. From the entrance way emerges the man
known as Herscher von Donkerhardt, clad in his trademark brown trunks
with black leather lining on the inner thigh, black boots, and newly
won PVW American Championship belt, around his waist. The audience
starts to cheer louder as the Dutchman comes down the entrance way.]

#I remember every number #

[Herscher eyes are icy blue, and he has a stone faced look of
determination
on his face.

People along the aisle way reach for his hand, and Herscher slaps a
few of
them on the way to the ring.]

#I remember graduation #

HD: And his opponent coming down the aisle.  He is originally from
Utrecht, in the The Netherlands, but now calls Phoenix, Arizona home.
He is the "The Netherlands Submission Machine", and reigning PVW
American Champion Herscher von Donkerhardt!

[FACE POP]

[Herscher goes up to the ring steps...]

#I remember painted faces#

[Herscher barely has time to get in the ring before he sees Manson and
charging straight at him! The two start brawling and trading stiff
punches before the match even begins!]

[POP!]

#No they couldn't believe #

# It was you I knew #

[Immediately, referee O'Riley has to intercede, forcibly pulling the
two men apart, prying them apart to send them to their respective
corners.]

FH: OK, I'm back. Did I miss anything?

CL: They're already at each other's throats, Fred! Things haven't even
started yet!



________    _________________________________________________________
|_   __  | .' ___  |
 | |_ \_|/ .'   \_|         PVW American Championship Match:
 |  _| _ | |   ____     Marcus Manson v. Hersher von Donkerhardt [c]
_| |__/ |\ `.___]  |
|________| `._____.'__________________________________________________



*DING*DING*DING*






FH: You were saying?

[No circling each other here, there's too much hatred in the air.
Manson charges straights in, swinging at the Dutchman, but Donkerhardt
ducks under the Misery Machine's arm, slips behind him and applies a
waistlock, trying to trip the big man to the canvas!  But Manson falls
into the ropes and the referee steps in again to separate the two
men.]

CL: What do you think Manson's strategy is, tonight?

FH: Strategy? A man like Manson doesn't need your puny strategies,
Chip! He hurts people, period. Just ask Donkerhardt!

[The wrestlers aren't kept apart long, and they pounce at each other
as soon as they can, meeting in a flurry of punches. They trade blow
after blow after blow, an exchange that seems surprisingly even keeled
at first, but with every landed strike, Herscher starts to weaken. One
more stiff jab, and Manson has Donkerhardt losing his balance! Marcus
grabs Herscher by the hair and just clubs down big meaty fists on
his nape, one after an other, punctuating it all with a big atomic
elbow to the Dutchman's upper back!]

CL: Manson, targeting Herscher's neck right off the bat, Fred.

FH: Smart move. No one knows the full details - it's being kept hush
hush - but we all know the condition of Donkerhardt's neck is dubious
at best!

CL: Some doctors have claimed he's not fit for in-ring action, Fred.

FH: Those wimpy Euro-docs, no doubt.

CL: I hear he's one big blow away from a broken neck! And that's what
Manson targets, knowing he could potentially kill his opponent?

FH: I'll say it again; smart move, Chip!

[Manson grabs Donkerhardt's wrist and whips him in the ropes. When the
Misery Machine swings, Herscher ducks under the arm and bounces off
the opposite side's ropes, then tries to tackle the big man down, but
Manson was ready!  He flapjacks the Dutchman high, and...]


"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


CL: SPINEBUSTER!

FH: I think Donkerhardt just spit out one of his lungs!

[Looking down upon his handiwork, the Misery Machine smirks as he
sizes up his opponent. He takes two steps, then leaps up to land a
knee drop...]


"____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


CL: Nobody home! Herscher rolls out of the way!

[Rubbing the soreness out of his knee, Manson scowls... and as he
rises, the speedier Dutchman catches him off guard with a big knee to
the gut!  Herscher takes Manson's wrist and pulls him into a short-arm
clothesline!]


"_____SSSMAAAAACCKKK!!!_____"


FH: Look at that! Manson doesn't budge!


[Undeterred, Herscher runs the ropes to charge back with a running
clothesline!]


"_____SSSSSMMMAAAAAAAACCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"

"____THUUUUUDDD!!!_____"


[But after the clothesline connects, it's Herscher that crashes to the
canvas, not Marcus!]

CL:  It's like Manson hasn't felt a thing!  The man must be carved out
of stone!

FH:  Look at Herscher's face!  He has finally realized just how
screwed he really is!

[Manson quickly pulls Donkerhardt up by the hair, only to propel him
sky high across the ring with a Biel throw that could have spanned
three time-zones!]


"____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


[Donkerhardt rolls out under the bottom ropes, now pretty much forced
to regroup before re-attacking the ring.]

FH:  Manson is a man that can use his size advantage to... um...

CL:  His advantage?

FH:  Something like that.

[Donkerhardt frowns with determination and climbs on the apron.  But
as he bends through the ropes, Manson rams into him with a big knee
that sends Herscher flying through the air and crashing into the
ringside fence!]


"____CCCRAAAACKKK!!!_____"


[The Netherlands Submission Machine winces with obvious pain, but he's
a man on a mission.  He gets back to his feet, then up on the apron
again.  This time, however, he's able to sidestep Manson's attack,
grab the powerhouse of a man by the head and hop off the apron to
execute a top rope guillotine that bumps the Misery Machine off his
feet!]


[TIMBER POP!]


[Donkerhardt slips back in the ring under the bottom rope, and crashes
into Manson with a flurry of fists just as the Steeltown giant is
rising!]

FH: HEY! Those are closed fists, Chip!  Is O'Riley blind?

[Herscher lays in with a big European uppercut that makes Manson
stumble back two steps, but when the Dutchman chases after Marcus with
the follow-up, it seems the Misery Machine has already shaken off the
staggering blow to greet Donkerhardt with a big elbow smash to the
jaw!]

CL: It seems Manson's able to shrug anything off!  What can
Donkerhardt do?

FH:  Giving up now would be the smartest thing that man could do.  But
he's too dumb to quit, isn't he?  He's too dumb to listen to his
doctors!

CL:  He has pride, Fred, something you wouldn't know about.  The
American Championship has too much importance to just be... vacated!

FH:  And I say the American Championship is too important to remain
around the waist of some Euro-trash!

[Manson reprises his offense with a stiff volley of punches and jabs
to the head.  He pulls in Herscher closer and clubs down on his neck
before whipping the submissions specialist into the turnbuckles
_hard_!]


"____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


[Herscher stumbles out of the corner and falls into Manson's arms who
hoists him up in a military press, only to drop the Dutchman face
first into the very same turnbuckle!  Donkerhardt bounces out of
corner and into Manson's waistlock.  The Misery Machine, merciless,
drops his opponent neck first on the canvas with a giant-sized belly
to back release suplex!]


"____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


CL:  This can't be good for Herscher...


[Unrelenting, Manson sizes up his supine opponent and drops a big knee
straight to his forehead!  He grabs Herscher by the hair and bends
down to trash talk in the Dutchman's ear.]

[DISRESPECTFUL HEEL POP!]

FH: You know, I thought this match would be over by now.

CL: Get real, Fred.

FH: YOU get real! Manson is the meanest three hundred pounder this
side of the Mississippi!

CL: And Herscher boasts the most gifted and tenacious two twenty five
to come out of Europe!

FH: Exactly. He's from Europe. They use kilos.

CL: Alright then, he's one hundred kilos of skill and determination.

FH: Nut just one hundred... versus _three_ hundred.  It's basic math,
Chip.  Marcus Manson is three times bigger than his opponent!

CL: This argument somehow makes sense to you?

[Manson pulls Herscher up by the hair and Irish whips him again. HvD
rebounds off the ropes, ducks beneath Manson's grasping hands, bounces
off the opposite ropes and slides into a dropkick to Marcus' leg, and
the big man falls to one knee!]

[POP!!!]

[In a flash, Donkerhardt is back on his feet and he quickly tucks
Manson's head under his pit, and throws himself backwards to drill the
Misery Machine's head into the ring with a double-arm DDT!]

"____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


[Herscher crawls over Manson and hooks his leg into his own with a
stepover toe hold, and laces his fingers over Marcus' face to lock in
an STF!]

[SUBMISSION POP~!]

CL:  Manson isn't so big and tall when he's on the mat, folded like a
pretzel!  We may just have a glimpse of Herscher's strategy, here.

FH:  I think he's panic mode, just doing anything that comes to mind
in a desperate but vain attempt to survive.

CL:  Well, at least he plays to his strengths.  Manson's trapped,
expending a lot of energy trying get out, and in a great deal of pain,
too.

FH:  I don't know, Chip. It's like farting in a blind lion's cage.

CL: ...

FH: You gotta pray he don't smell so good either.

CL: What the heck are you babbling on about?

[Fighting the STF hold, Manson yells out and, inch by inch, manages to
drag himself within reaching distance of the ropes. In desperation, he
extends an arm out, just as Herscher tightens his hold... Mason
reaches out...

...and grabs the bottom rope! A second later, the referee's count
forces Donkerhardt to break the hold.]

[DEFLATED POP]

FH: Manson's too tall for Donkerhardt. He's so big he can reach the
ropes from the middle of the ring, Chip!

[Before Marcus can actually get back to his feet, HvD quickly presses
his advantage, grabbing Manson's ankle and pulling him back to the
center of the ring, where he applies a spinning toe hold, twisting the
Misery Machine's leg anew!  But Manson can't be subdued, and he crawls
to the edge of the ring, finding sanctuary from the submission when he
grabs the bottom rope once again...]

FH: My man Manson is unstoppable, Chip! UNSTOPPABLE!

CL: He may be tough, but that doesn't mean he's unstoppable.

[Once again, Marcus can't even scramble to his feet before HvD pulls
him back to the center of the ring by the boot. He clutches Manson's
ankle tightly with both hands, and torques the leg to apply an ankle
lock!]

[IT HAS TO WORK THIS TIME POP!]

[The damage to his leg is starting to pile up, and as he screams out
in pain, it looks like the ankle lock is definitely making a chink in
Manson's armor.  Manson crawls forward, fueled by arm strength alone,
reaches out for the rope...]

CL: Herscher pulls him back! This could be it, Fred!

FH: No. No! Impossible. Donkerhardt's submissions may be fearsome, but
they can't possibly be dangerous enough to make Manson tap!

[Manson winces with pain and cries out, his trembling hand hovering
over the mat, perhaps ready to tap? ...No! He clenches his fist and,
with a powerful surge of energy, he twists to his back and shoves
Herscher off with his other foot, sending Donkerhardt flying through
the ropes and out of the ring... where HvD deftly lands on his feet!]

FH: What strength from Manson!

CL: What agility and presence of mind from Herscher!

[Marcus gets to his feet and hobbles towards the ropes, reaching over
for Herscher's hair. But the Netherlands Submission Machine reaches
for Manson's feet below the ropes and pulls the rug out from under
him. Donkerhardt pulls Manson's leg towards the ring post and slams it
on the cold hard steel!]


"____TTTTTWWWAAAAAACCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"


[POP!]

[And again!]


"____TTTTTWWWOOOOOOCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"


[ANOTHER POP!]

[And Herscher slams it again!!]


"____TTTTTWWWAAAAAACCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"



[AND A THIRD TIME'S THE CHARM POP!]


[HvD rolls back in under the ropes and drags Manson towards the middle
of the ring by the feet. The Dutchman takes aim and drops a knee to
the back of the Misery Machine's leg once... twice... and a third
time!  With his arms, Donkerhardt locks Manson's legs in a figure
four, attempting a cloverleaf... but the big man's limps are so long
and thick, Herscher has a hell of a time simply locking it in...]

FH: Herscher can't do it, Chip. Manson's too big for him.

CL: Wait... You're wrong, Fred!  Herscher locked in the cloverleaf!!

FH: What's going on, here? Are we in Wonderland?

CL: Herscher doing what he does best, completely negating Manson's
size advantage by keeping him grounded and folded!

[The Misery Machine clenches his teeth, the damage to his leg piling
up at a rapid pace... but the monster simply can't be tamed, he
squirms his way to the ropes, reaches out... and grabs the bottom rope
again!]

[DEFLATED POP!]

[When O'Riley reaches the count of four, HvD reluctantly breaks the
hold... too reluctantly for the referee's tastes. O'Riley pushes
Herscher back, warning him that next time he's being too slow to break
could mean a disqualification.  Before Donkerhardt can formulate a
counter-argument, a fist flies over the referee's shoulder and lands
squarely on the Dutchman's jaw!]

[HEEL POP!]

CL: Oh! That was a cheap shot!

FH: Hersher better hope it was cheap, because I bet he felt every
penny!

[Manson knees Herscher deep in the abdomen, shakes the pain out of his
leg, and tests it out by bouncing off the ropes and tackling down
Donkerhard with a hard hitting flying shoulderblock!]


"____THUUUUUDDD!!!_____"


CL: Well, Marcus Manson's movement is clearly hampered. His leg is
bothering him.

FH: But it's not damaged enough to keep him in place, Chip. That's the
key part.

[Pulling up Donkerhardt by the hair, Manson connects with a few hard
rights, jabs an elbow into Herscher's neck, then Irish whips into the
ropes.  On the rebound, he lifts HvD on his shoulders...]


"____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


CL: Samoan Drop!

FH: I think Manson even made sure Donkerhardt would land on his upper
back area!  Call it a night for Dutch boy.

CL: Manson with a cover, here...


!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


CL: Herscher kicks out!

FH: I'm flabberghasted!

[Manson pulls up HvD by the hair, peppering him with a series of stiff
punches, and drives his knee into Donkerhardt's gut.  He applies a
standing headscissors, lifts Herscher up to his shoulders, steps
towards the ring corner and powerbombs the Dutchman neck first into
the turnbuckles!]


"____TTTTTWWWOOOOOOCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"


CL: Ooh, this is definitely shave a couple of years off Herscher's
career...

[The Steeltown titan starts to pull HvD's lifeless body towards the
center of the ring, but inspiration strikes.  With a front suplex
lift, he drapes Donkerhardt over the ring ropes like an old rug that
needs to be aired out... then heads for the opposite ropes. At first,
Marcus limps, but he still gathers enough momentum to drive a big boot
right through Herscher's upper back!  The forceful impact flips HvD
right back into the ring, compressing his neck again when he lands
head first on the canvas!]

FH: Goodbye, Donkerhardt.  We hardly knew ye and... good riddance.

CL: Manson with a lateral press here...



!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



!!! THREE? !!!

CL: No! Herscher's foot is on the bottom rope!

FH: Manson seems almost relieved... he's up for inflicting more pain!
I swear, Chip, Mason would hurt absolutely anyone!

CL: Even children?

FH: What?

CL: Never mind. Manson whips Herscher into the turnbuckles, shaking
the entire ring!

[Unsatisfied with the damage dealt, the Misery Machine picks up his
opponent, and hangs him upside down in the corner, crossing his feet
under the topmost rung.]

CL: Wait... Herscher is in the tree of woe!

FH: Heh! Heh! Heh!

[A positively evil glint lights Manson's eyes when he cocks his
head... then starts hitting HvD with a succession of kicks to the
head, chest, and abdomen!]


"____TTTTTHHHAAAAAACCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"


"____TTTTTHHHWWWWAAAAAACCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"


"____TTTTTHHHOOOOOCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"


"____SSSSHHHTTTOOOOOCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"


CL: This is a signature move of HvD!  Manson is mocking him with one
of his own moves, Fred!

FH: Nothing like a little salt in the wound, Chip.  Besides, it's not
mocking.

CL: It's not?

FH: I say it's retribution for ll the guys Donkerhardt has used that
move on.


[The Misery Machine limps back to get a running start and charges in
with a high knee that lands a little bit high (as in low), in
Donkerhardt's crotch, crushing him deeper into the turnbuckles!]

[OOOH, EVERY MALE IN ATTENDANCE WINCES AND CRINGES KIND OF HEEL POP]


CL: AIE! No man's tenders deserves such a fate!

FH: I don't see the problem. America doesn't need that Euro-trash to
breed and spawn more Euro-trash within our holy borders.  Can you
imagine what this country would look like if it filled up with
Europeans born on our very soil?

CL: Unsurprisingly, yes. Fred, this country...

FH: This country needs to be saved from this European invasion!

[Manson seems to take great satisfaction from Herscher's wails of
male-specific agony, and basks in the hatred that radiates from the
hostile Phoenix crowd. He limps back to the center of the ring,
shaking of the pain in his leg before making another run, but...]


"____TTTTTHHHAAAAAACCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"

[HUGE POP!]


CL: SPEAR! HvD rolled out of the corner and _gored_ the boots off
Manson!

FH: Yeah, well... he probably hurt his shoulder doing it!


[Herscher kips up again and darts into the nearest ropes, charging
back with a flying knee that couldn't possibly connect in a more
sensitive area!]


[OOH, NO SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL THAT DESERVES IT POP!!]

CL: A knee right into the Misery Machine's "Micro Machines!"

FH: Are you trying to be funny, Chip?

CL: And now HvD drops a knee to Manson's temple, and then more knees
to the thigh and leg!

FH: He's trying to crush Manson's "Heavy Duty Machinery!"

CL: Herscher is striking Manson's inner thigh!

FH: Not from here he's not! This is uncalled for! Why is the referee
letting this go on?

CL: Because they're not low blows, Fred!

FH: Only because Donkerhardt's aim is off! This is brustal, barbaric,
completely unsportsmanlike, this is...

CL: Retribution for all the guys Manson nailed with such moves?

FH: Shut up, smartass!


[Herscher grabs Manson's arm, bends it then falls back on the mat,
landing in a Fujiwara arm bar that has Marcus yelling out!]

[LET HIM SUFFER POP!]

[The Misery Machine squirms from the pain, trying to find any kind of
position that could alleviate the pressure on his limb...]

FH: Hey... something's not right here!  Herscher's applying the hold
Manson-style!  Only Marcus Manson does this armbar like this!
Donkerhardt's copying Manson, such disrespect!

CL: And Manson didn't show disrespect by using HvD's version of the
tree of woe?

FH: Shut up, wise guy!

CL: In any case, Marcus Manson reaches the ropes once more, and breaks
the hold.

[The holds broken, but when Herscher steps up to press the offense,
even on his knees Manson's ready for him, connecting with a quick jab
to the abdomen. Marcus gets back to his feet and clocks HvD with an
uppercut, and before the Dutchman can stumble too far backwards,
Manson grabs him firmly by the throat...]

CL: Uh-oh!

FH: Chokeslam coming!

[ANTICIPATION POP!]

[Herscher knows he just fell into a nasty trap he can't escape from!
Manson lifts him by the throat, then slams him over the cables! HvD
crashes into the apron, then falls to the ringside floor, inert.]

HO-LY CRAP~! HO-LY CRAP~!

HO-LY CRAP~! HO-LY CRAP~!


CL: Unbelievable!

FH: That's it for Donker. He's done. Back to Peter Pan land.

CL: Fred, the Netherlands isn't... ah, forget it!

[Manson takes a moment to recoup, feeling all the aches of the
accumulated submissions, then climbs through the ropes, approaching
the inanimate Dutchman. He pulls up HvD like a heavy bag of sand and
bear hugs him. He takes aim, then runs into the ringpost, crushing
Donkerhardt's spine into the unforgiving steel!]


"____TTTTTHHHOOOOOCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"


[The Misery Machine still had HvD trapped in his mighty arms, until
the big man rams him back first into the ringside fence.  He props him
up on the cold steel, and lifts his head up by the hair to fully
expose HvD's forehead, nearby fans screaming in the submissionist's
defense.  Manson brains his opponent with a punch, then another, and
another, and another.]

FH: That's right!  Say hello to Captain Hook when you get back home,
Donkerhardt!

CL: You're getting confused, there, Fred.


[Manson grabs HvD by the nape, then whips him straight into the ring
steps!]


"____KKKKKLLLAAAAAANNNGGGGG!!!!!_____"


FH: Tinkerbell won't save you now, HvD!

CL: Again, Fred, the Netherlands and Neverland... they're not the same
place!

[Not satisfied with his work, Manson rolls in the ring and out to
break referee O'Riley's count, then resumes his merciless offense.  He
picks up Donkerhardt and lifts him high overhead in a military press,
then slams him down on the jagged ring steps!]


"____KKKKKLLLOOOOONNNGGGGG!!!!!_____"


HO-LY CRAP~! HO-LY CRAP~!

HO-LY CRAP~! HO-LY CRAP~!

HO-LY CRAP~! HO-LY CRAP~!


FH: No doubt about it, Donkerhardt will never be the same after this!

CL: As much as I hate to admit it, you're right. The damage done to
HvD's spine and neck has to be considerable...

[The titan from Steeltown grabs HvD by the mane, smirks with macabre
self-satisfaction, then slams Donkerhardt's face into the unforgiving
steel of the ring steps!]


"____KKKKKLLLEEEEEEEENNNGGGGG!!!!!_____"


[HEEL POP]

[And again...]


"____KKKKKLLLAAAAAANNNGGGGG!!!!!_____"


[And a third time!]


"____KKKKKLLLOOOOOOOOOOOONNNGGGGG!!!!!_____"


CL: The soul crushing sound of HvD's skull hitting the steel is
sickening!

FH: Music to my ears!

CL: Oh, and HvD's busted open... there's blood everywhere. This is
hardcore, now.

FH: I AM HAAAAAAAAARDCOOOOOORE!

CL: Say what?

FH: No, nothing. I don't know what got over me.

[O'Riley screams at Manson to get the action back in the ring, but the
referee seems to be losing control.  The Misery Machine rolls in and
out again to break the count, but that's as close to the middle of the
ring as the action will get for now!  Marcus picks up the limp
Herscher and places him atop his shoulder in powerslam position... he
lines up with the ring steps, and starts running!]

[CROWD GASPS!]

[But Herscher comes alive and slips off landing behind Manson and
dropkicks the big man's back!]

"____KKKKKLLLAAAAAANNNGGGGG!!!!!_____"

[HUGE POP!]

[Manson trips over the steps and tumbles down, crashing into the
ringside fence!  But he isn't staying down long! The Misery Machine
scrambles to his feet and charges towards Donkerhardt, and the two
battered men meet near the ringsteps, when HvD somehow manages to use
Manson's momentum against him, lifting him up and slamming him down
over the jagged steel with a spinebuster!]


"____KKKKKLLLOOOOONNNGGGGG!!!!!_____"


[BIGGER POP!]


CL: And there's a receipt for the Misery Machine!

FH: Oh, no!  Not retribution!

CL: Yes, Fred!  This is exactly what Marcus Manson did to Herscher von
Donkerhardt when they last met!  Now, he gets a taste of his own
misery medicine!

FH: This is a TRAVESTY!

[With Manson's wind knocked out of him, HvD drapes his opponent's arm
over the ring steps.  He takes aim, leaps... and crashes on the Misery
Machine's arm with a jumping leg drop. Drained of energy, tired, and
hurting, HvD still wills himself back up.  He pulls on Manson's arm,
and applies a crucifix armbar that sends intolerable jolts of pain
rushing through the Misery Machine's arm!]

[MASSIVE POP!]

CL: You know, Fred... It seems that the harder Manson knocks HvD down,
the more resolve and determination Donkerhardt comes back with. With
all he's been through, this man's will is cast of iron!  No wonder
he's the American champion.

FH: Well, whatever. I know someone who can do that armbar better, how
about that?

CL: Judging by the grimace of pain on Marcus Manson's face, this arm
bar can't be executed any better.

FH: He's doing it all wrong, I tell you! All wrong! No wonder the
Dutch drive on the wrong side!

CL: The Dutch drive on the same side we do!  Oh, but referee O'Riley's
counting the men out!  HvD's got to get back in that ring!


!!! FIVE !!!

[Donkerhardt reluctantly breaks his hold and jabs a knee straight into
Marcus Manson's nasal septum!

!!! SIX !!!

[Manson clutches his face in agony as HvD slides in under the bottom
rope.]

!!! SEVEN !!!

[Thanks to his incomparable toughness, Manson gets to his knees,
shakes off the pain, and hops on the apron!]

!!! EIGHT !!!

[Flying across the ring, Donkerhardt dropkicks Manson off the apron,
and the three hundred pounder crashes into the steel fence, his
weakened arm absorbing the brunt of the impact!]

!!! NINE !!!

[Manson winces and cringes, gets up to his knees as he favors his
arm...]

!!! TEN !!!

CL: Herscher did it!!

FH: NO! NO! The referee says Manson rolled back in the ring in time!

[DEFLATION POP!]

CL: So close, Fred!  Oh, here's HvD with a surprise small package!


!!! ONE !!!

...


!!! TWO !!!


...

...


!!! THRE- !!!

CL: Manson powers out!

[DISAPPOINTED POP!]

FH: You can't keep the Misery Machine down, Chip!

[Both men slowly get back to their feet... and Manson takes the
initiative this time as he plows right through HvD with a huge
lariat!]


"____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


CL: Oh, Manson felt that one, too! He used the arm Herscher was
working over, and now he feels all of the aftermath!

FH: Manson doesn't care, he's out to hurt people!

[Standing tall, Manson tramples over Herscher, stepping on his throat,
grinding it into the mat with all of his weight!

[HEEL POP!]

FH: That's what Manson's all about, Chip. Hurting people. Sure, it
sounds one-dimensional to little wrestling snobs like you... but let
me tell you this: it's one helluva painful dimension!

CL: No doubt about that, Fred.

[With HvD still writhing on the canvas, Manson lines him up and
bludgeons him with a series of hard, nasty, heavy-booted kicks!  Then
he balls his fist, and drops all the way down to drive it into
Herscher's already bleeding forehead!]

"____TTTHHHHUUUUDDDD!!!_____"

[Manson pulls up HvD by the hair, locks his head between his thighs in
a headscissors and lifts him up by the waist...]

CL: Uh-oh! This isn't looking good...

[With HvD vertically upside down, Manson hops up, lifting off nearly
two feet off the mat, and drills Donkerhardt's skull into the mat with
a devastating piledriver!]


"____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


FH: I hear something, Chip!

CL: What?

FH: It's the fat lady.  She's singing!

CL: Is that so.

FH: It's a beautiful song about career ending neck injuries!

CL: Situation's looking bad for Herscher... but you're still an idiot.

FH: You can sing along, Chip! Kill 'em all, kill 'em all... Cuz
everyone dies from this motherflippin' wrestler...

CL: Can it, Bieber, here comes a pin attempt!

[Tired, Manson slowly crawls over Donkerhardt and hooks the leg...]


!!! ONE !!!


...


!!! TWO !!!


...

...


!!! THREE ???


[SHOULDER UP POP!]

CL: HvD's still in this! Amazing!

FH: That was a slow count! The fat lady was singing, you heard her as
well as I did!

CL: The only person that burst out into song was the idiot next to me!

FH: Oh yeah? Well your wife is such a slut they made her an honorary
Marshall! How about that?

[Manson pulls HvD up again, and hooks him up in a front facelock.  He
lifts him up into a vertical suplex... bounces HvD off the top rope
for momentum and...]

[FACE POP!]

[Donkerhardt flips out of the hold and land on his feet behind Manson
and waistlocks him immediately!  With a great struggle, he lifts the
big man up and over with a big German suplex!]


"____TTTHUUUDDD!!!_____"


FH: German suplex?? That's a Nazi move, Chip!

CL: For crying out loud!


[And Herscher maintains his grip, jostles around on the mat and hoists
Manson up in a second German suplex!]


"____TTTTHHHUUUUUDDD!!!_____"


FH: Another German suplex! That just like the Dutch to... say I don't
remember the Dutch fighting any Nazis during World War Two...

CL: Anne Frank doesn't ring any bells?

FH: Who, the deaf, dumb and blind chick?

CL: Never mind....

[The move knocks the wind out of both men, but HvD is as resilient as
ever. Maintaining the waistlock firmly in place, he executes a third
suplex!]


"____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


CL: And a bridge, now!



!!! ONE !!!


...



FH: No... This can't be...




!!! TWO !!!



...


FH: The American Championship belongs to Manson by right!



...



!!! THREE ???




CL: NO! Manson powers out at the last possible moment!

FH: YES!!!


[DEFLATED POP!]


[HvD can't believe it either! Extenuated and desperate, he struggles
to pull up Marcus. From the rear, he applies a chickenwing, and he
reaches around under Manson's chin with the other arm... and we know
where this is going...]

CL: Birth of Tragedy...


[But Manson's leg shoots up backwards between HvD's!]

[HEEL POP!]


CL: NO!

FH: YES!

CL: That was a low blow!

FH: Oh, big deal! You have an extensive porn collection, Chip. You
know Europeans enjoy this!

CL: No man enjoys _that_!

[With Hescher folded over, clutching his "gekneusd testikels," Marcus
suddenly grabs the Dutchman's head and...]


"____KKKKAAAA-TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!!!!_____"


CL: WIDOW MAKER!!!

FH: Misery Machine style, baby!

[The two men collapse in the ring, and seemingly pass out, forcing the
referee to begin a count!]

! ONE !

! TWO !

! THREE !

CL: Oh, Manson's moving, now!

! FOUR !

FH: And he's crawling over Herscher!

CL: And he hooks the leg!



!!! ONE !!!



...



...




!!! TWO !!!



...



...



...




!!! THREEEEE !!!


FH: YES! YES! YES!

CL: I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

FH: WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION! Finally, the American Championship returns
where it belongs... to AMERICA!!!

CL: WAIT! ... Herscher's foot is on the rope, and the referee saw it!

FH: WHAT?

CL: This match ain't over, Fred! HvD's boot was on the rope!!


[Referee O'Riley's wild gesticulations confirm it, the match isn't
over!]

[MASSIVE FACE POP!]

[Understandably, Manson's upset by the news, very upset. He's drained
of all energy, but now it's zero hour, and he digs down deep to power
back up and puts it all in a massive kick to HvD's ribs!]


"____TTTHHHUUUUUDDD!!!_____"


[He heavily clubs down on Donkerhardt's neck, then lifts up the
Dutchman's arm over his head, positioning him for the dreaded Heart
Punch...  but HvD counters with a quick kick to the groin!]

[FACE POP!]

CL: Hold on! It didn't connect! Manson caught Herscher's boot with his
free hand!

[DEFLATED POP]

[HvD lifts off, spins in the air and his flying foot connects with
Manson's temple, and the big man spins on his feet!]

"____TTTTTWWWAAAAAACCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"


[Only fueled by desperation, Herscher pops back up to his feet behind
Marcus, applies a chicken wing, reaches under the chin, pushes off...]



"____KKKKKKAAAAAAA-TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"




[MASSIVE POP!!!]


CL: BIRTH OF TRAGEDY!! BIRTH OF TRAGEDY!!

FH: But... But... the match was over...


[HvD weakly crawls over and collapses over the supine Manson...]

FH: This is... this has to be a dream...




!!! ONE !!!



...




FH: Just a bad dream...




!!! TWO !!!




...




CL: No, Fred, this is the American Dream!




...






!!!!! THREE !!!!!





*DING*DING*DING*





FH: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

["I Remember" by Low suddenly resounds to an euphoric cheer from the
fans!]

CL: HE DID IT! He pulled off the impossible! He fought through and
persevered, putting his career and even his life on the line, and in
the end, Herscher von Donkerhardt proves exactly why he was and STILL
IS the PVW American Champion!

FH: This is so awful words can't do this travesty justice!

[HvD rolls to the side, and with a trembling hand, he reaches for the
ropes to painstakingly rise up.  He raises a hand, a battered,
tenacious and proud hand as the referee reverently hands over the
coveted American title belt... but it's clear that Donkerhardt,
through the blood, sweat, and tears, couldn't stand up without the
support of the ropes.]

CL: It took everything out of him, Fred. Herscher von Donkerhardt
truly went above and beyond the call of duty, risking life and limb to
successfully defend the American championship!

FH: I feel nauseous...

[Donkerhardt's knees buckle beneath him, and he falls to the mat,
still clutching his hard won championship as he seemingly passes out
from exertion, accumulated injuries and blood loss...]

CL: Herscher did it. David felled Goliath. But now, only one question
remains; at what cost to his career?

FH: The higher, the better!

[Finally, officials team up to help Herscher hobble up the aisle and
back to the locker room. Reaching the entrance, HvD turns back towards
the Phoenix fans and raises the belt high to a massive pop before
disappearing behind the curtains!]

CL: What a warrior.  Let's go backstage with our winner of the 2011
Called Shot.

FH: Mr. Called Shot!

(We cut backstage to an exhausted but clearly triumphant Johnny Detson
standing next to 'Swingin' Dean Hayes.  They are standing outside a
door that reads:  "JOHNNY DETSON, PRESIDENT AND CEO."

Hayes:  I'm standing here with the new Called Shot winner Johnny
Detson...

(Detson glares at Hayes.)

Hayes:  I'm standing here with the President and CEO of the PVW and
recent Called Shot winner Johnny Detson.

(Detson nods in approval)

Hayes:  Mr. Detson what are your thoughts...

Detson:  My thoughts?  Too numerous to list, too complex for you to
understand.  Here I stand, as your President ad CEO, triumphant just
as I said I would be.  People talk about destiny and people talk about
fate.  Well my superior technical skill has just proven to be the most
accomplished thing going in this business and now I have the Called
Shot to back that up.

Hayes:  What are you...

(Detson glares at Hayes again cutting him short.)

Detson:  I wasn't finish and when I talk people listen.  People also
talk about luck.  How Caleb Foley was lucky to survive this long...
how
he was lucky to resemble competing on my level... how he was lucky to
be
in the Called Shot match.  Well again my executive authority and
superior technical skill has defeated this so-called luck, ONE and for
all!  I have become the most successful President and CEO of all
professional wrestling, I have become the face of this franchise, and
now... Mr. Called Shot, all in under a year's time.  I ask who else
has
accomplish this level of greatness?

Hayes;  Well the fact remains..

(Detson cuts off Hayes again.)

Detson:  I asked who else?

Hayes:  Er... well... no one.

(Detson flashes his cocky smirk.)

Detson:  Exactly.

Hayes:  The World Title match is just moments away, any predictions,
or desired outcomes?

Detson:  That is a silly question, which as you President and CEO, I
don't have to answer.  However, since I care about all of you, the
little people, I will.  Johnny Detson, as President and CEO, cannot
play favorites and therefore will not predict the match.  But as I am
also a highly superior technically skilled athlete I will let
Holliday, Marley and Hayes know that whoever is victorious their reign
is on borrowed time.  It may not be tonight or tomorrow, but soon they
will have this highly skilled technical athlete and the outcome will
not be to their liking.

(Detson frowns for a minute.)

Detson:  But let's not waste time on a match that no one will be
watching and let's start talking about something the little people out
there care about.  Namely me...

(Detson smirks again.)

Detson:  I have heard the cries and the pleas and now that the Road to
Greatness tour has prove that I, your President and CEO, am indeed
great, it is time that I give all the little people out there what
they have demanded for some time.  A tribute to my greatness and the
company that I have made great.

Hayes:  What do you mean?

Detson:  I mean, next Heatwave, by the power invested in me, as
President and CEO, I have declared to be... JOHNNY DETSON APPRECIATION
NIGHT!  Honoring the greatest single wrestler/executive in the
world... ME, Johnny Detson, President and CEO, and all around awesome
in every possible category.  The little people have demanded it, and I
am all about what the wallets want.  So let the celebration begin.  A
celebration of me and the awe inspiring greatness that preset to you,
the little people, on a nightly basis.

(With that Detson turns and walks into his office, slamming the door
shut.)

Hayes:  There you have it folks, next Heatwave is Johnny Detson
Appreciation Night?  Back to you guys.

[Cut back to ringside.]

FH: Johnny Detson appreciation night!  Wow I need to get a tux!

CL: Oh brother ... Folks what a night it's been thus far.  We have
witnessed amazing action.  We have had some answers ... But there are
still _two_ Championship matches left and the match we are about to
start soon between two brother-in-laws. This will be an all out war of
attrition!

FH: War of attrition?! What have you been smoking, Chip? It is going
to be a MASSACRE! Perry Fontana is going to finally rid the world of
the evil that is Tom Landis by tearing his arm off, beating him with
it and forcing Landis' incredibly easy wife to throw the towel in!

CL: Fred! How can you say such horrible and disgusting things?!

FH: Easy. With my mouth.

CL: This will be no one sided massacre for anyone, Fred. You saw what
happened at Tradition..

FH: That was a fluke!

CL: Tom Landis BEAT Perry Fontana at Tradition but that was a regular
one on one match. This match.. A Towel match.. He will have to beat
Fontana to the point that Perry's wife, Tom's sister Emily, throws in
the towel!

FH: I don't think anyone has to worry about that outcome, Chip! Landis
is not going to be able to beat on Fontana that badly to make anyone
give up. Meanwhile, if you just flash the right amount of cash by Tara
Marshall's face, I'm sure she'll do more than give up the towel!

CL: FRED!

FH: What?!

CL: You need to apologize for saying such awful things!

FH: Never! NEVE-Hey!

CL: What?

FH: What is SHE doing here?

[The camera pans to the front row where we see.. BRIANNA LANDIS! Tom's
long estranged sister!]

[FANTASY GIRL/LUKE KINSEY'S WIFE/JUAN VASQUEZ PUNCH VICTIM POP]

CL: Oh my Goodness! That is Brianna Landis!

FH: Duh!

CL: I can't believe she is out here!

FH: I know! What is this about? Is she here to help turn the screws on
her brother Tom and unite the family behind the one true real man that
exists in it now, Perry Fontana?!

CL: I doubt that, Fred.

FH: You doubt that Perry is the only true man in the family?

CL: Not just that but I doubt she is here on Fontana's account. Maybe
she is here for Emily.

FH: Would be the same as being here for Perry.

CL: Maybe she is here for her brother Tom!

FH: HAHAHAHA! That is funny, Chip! Someone being here for Tom Landis!
HAHAHA!

CL: How do you know she hasn't patched things up with her brother?

FH: No one can patch things up with such an abomination of humanity
like Tom Landis!

CL: Why would you say such contemptible and awful things about Tom
Landis?!

FH: Slush told me! He wouldn't lie to me!

CL: Oh brother..

FH: Hey, I am NOT your brother, Chip! Don't stain me with your lot!
I'll stain your wife with my DNA but you don't even think about
staining me, OK?

CL: ... One of these days Fred...

FH: You're going to stain me?

CL: What? No.. I... You... Ah... Damnit let's go to the ring!

FH: Ha Ha!

[We cut to Herk Douglas, THE VOICE, in the ring with the microphone.]

HD: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is.. a TOWEL MATCH!

[BIG POP]

HD: The only way to win is to make your opponent's second throw in the
towel!

[POP]

FH: Thanks for telling everyone what they know already Herk!

CL: Now you're picking on our ring announcer?!

FH: I am an equal opportunity jerk, Chip!

CL: You got that right at least.

FH: Thank yo- HEY!

[The halls of Veteran's Memorial Coliseum vibrate to the sound of Mass
Hysteria's "Failles", then erupt in deafening boos when "the
Everlasting" Perry Fontana steps out of the entrance, head covered by
the hood of his orange, red and gold boxer's robe.]

CL: Here comes a man who has done nothing but shown his true colors as
one of the worst human beings that walks this earth.

FH: Woah! That is NOT Tom Landis, Chip! You need to get your eyes
examined!

CL: I can see who it is just fine, Fred!

[A woman's delicate hand slides over the Deathless One's shoulder.
It's his wife, Emily Fontana, nee Landis, wearing a short, long-
sleeved and hooded dress cut of black silk with some shiny golden
motifs that match her hair. Finally not dressed like a librarian, and
without her glasses, the resemblance to her older sister Brianna
becomes extremely apparent.]

HD: Accompanied to the ring by Emily Fontana...

["Le Phenix" stomps down to the ring, ignoring the raucous fans' boos,
Tom Landis' youngest sister trailing behind, her own face a mixture of
anger and anxiousness, seemingly overwhelmed by size and vivaciousness
of the Phoenix crowd.]

HD: From Montreal, Quebec, Canada, and weighing in at two hundred and
fifty one pounds...

[Reaching the ring, Fontana takes his wife's hand to help her up the
ring steps, and sits on the second rope to pry open the cables for
her.  She steps in the ring carefully, like a prospective buyer
visiting an open-house, too self-conscious to touch a stranger's
belongings. "Il Eterno" follows inside the square circle,
and heads toward the nearest turnbuckle to make his customary
stretches.]

HD: "The Everlasting"... PEERRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYY
FOOONNNNNTAAAAAAANAAAAA!

[Fontana stomps to the middle of the ring and absentmindedly raises a
fist when his name is called. Finally, he pulls back the hood of his
robe, bringing into full view the man's thick, luxuriant black hair,
preposterously huge muttonchops, thin lips, dimpled chin, dark,
piercing, bloodthirsty eyes...]

CL: That poor girl! She has been brainwashed by this dispecable
monster and has no idea what she's in for!

FH: She has not been brainwashed by anyone, Chip! Give her some
credit! She saw this man has the superior DNA of all the men in the
land and chose him to not only marry but to plant fruit in her garden.

CL: Fred..

FH: She is old enough to make her own decisions, is what I am getting
at Chip. But I will give you this.. I will agree she probably is not
completely aware of what she is fixing to get into here.

[Behind him, Emily reaches around to disrobe robe her husband,
exposing in the process a white towel, wrapped around Fontana's neck.
The Italian-French-Canadian submission artist pulls the towel off,
smirks derisively, and hands it over to his wife before she leaves the
ring, taking towel and robe with her.]

FH: Look at Perry's expression! He is ready to tear Landis limb from
limb tonight!

CL: I wouldn't be surprised if Landis has that expression but towards
Fontana.

[Emily is taken aback as she finally spots her sister, Brianna seated
in the front row. Brianna glances at her sister but quickly looks
away, not making eye contact.]

FH: What is going on here? Why is she avoiding eye contact with her
sister Emily?

CL: We will have to wait and see, Fred.

FH: Waiting is for losers!

[The lights in the arena dim as the abrupt beginning to "You Know My
Name" by Chris Cornell hits, and the crowd cheers strongly as a subtle
cast of red light is shone over them.  The entrance is similarly
bathed in the red hue as the voice of Chris Cornell comes in.]

# If you take a life, do you know what you'll give
# Odds are, you won't like what it is
# When the storm arrives, would you be seen with me
# By the merciless eyes I've deceived

[And after a few seconds, a figure emerges through the portal to stand
in the midst of the red light. Make that TWO figures. A man, and a
woman, frozen there as the spotlight begs to pulse around them.]

# I've seen angels fall from blinding heights
# But you yourself are nothing so divine
# Just next in line

[And as the chorus hits, the lights come on in blindingly full force
to reveal "Hellraiser" Tom Landis and his wife Tara Marshall. Landis
is dressed for combat, wearing full length black tights with a silver
and red design running up the legs, and "Hellraiser" written on the
set of the pants. He's also wearing a black sleeveless t-shirt with
the "ACW" logo on it. Tom nods to his wife and the two begin walking
down the aisle towards the ring.]

# Arm yourself because no-one else here will save you
# The odds will betray you
# And I will replace you

HD: Accompanied to the ring by his wife Tara Marshall, from Chicago,
Illinois, weighing in at two hundred and forty-one pounds...

"HEEELLLLLLLLLLLRAIIIIIIIISERRRRRRRRRRRRR"

TOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM LAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNDIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSS!

# You can't deny the prize; it may never fulfill you
# It longs to kill you
# Are you willing to die

# The coldest blood runs through my veins
# You know my name

[Landis doesn't give out any high-fives today as his focus is on his
opponent waiting for him in the ring. Tom's demeanor is very calm but
still focused. His wife, Tara, looks calm and confident as well,
following behind her husband, a towel over her shoulder.]

FH: I think it's only fitting that Tara was bathed in red light
earlier.

CL: FRED!

FH: What?!

[As Tom and Tara make their way to ringside they head over to where
Brianna is seated. Brianna stands up and.. EMBRACES HER BROTHER!]

[SHOCK WTF POP]

FH: WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?!

CL: It appears, Fred, that Brianna and her brother Tom.. HAVE MENDED
THE FENCES!

FH: WHAT?!

[Brianna wishes her brother well, then embraces her sister-in-law Tara
while Tom climbs onto the ring apron, wipes his feet, then climbs into
the ring and his calm but focused stare falls on his brother-in-law.
Emily seems almost rattled by Brianna being there and getting along
with Tom.]

CL: This definitely has to be a surprise for Emily Fontana and her
husband!

FH: This is a surprise to all good decent folks the world over! We
should've known when Brianna stopped chasing random men in Dallas and
settled down for a guy who's best friend would deck her in the mouth
that more bad choices were ahead of her!

[Herk Douglas leaves the ring, the referee checks to make sure both
women at ringside have their towels with them, and then he calls for
the bell..]


________    _________________________________________________________
|_   __  | .' ___  |
 | |_ \_|/ .'   \_|             Grudge Towel Match:
 |  _| _ | |   ____          Perry Fontana v. Tom Landis
_| |__/ |\ `.___]  |
|________| `._____.'__________________________________________________



*DING*DING*DING*



[HUGE POP]

CL: Who is going to make the first move here?

FH: I am still hung up on this Brianna-Tom reconciliation! WHAT IS
GOING ON?!

[Landis steps towards the middle of the ring calmly but Fontana
charges forward, his anger boiling over, and he greets his brother in
law with a punch to the mouth! Tom takes it and fires off a shot of
his own! Both men begin unloading on one another! Punch for punch,
shot for shot, the fists are flying!]

[POP]

CL: Fontana got the first punch in but Landis is fighting back! These
two men are just SMASHING each other's faces with their fists!

FH: Look out, European Uppercut!

[Indeed, Il Eterno nails said blow on Landis. Tom staggers back but
then steps forward and responds in kind with his own European
Uppercut! And thus both men begin going back and forth European
uppercutting one another!]

[EUROPEAN UPPERCUT BATTLE POP]

[Fontana fires another one but this time Landis dodges the blow. Perry
goes for a wild punch but gets a knee to the midsection doubling him
over. Hellraiser runs off the ropes and his a BIG Jumping Knee to the
head sending Fontana to the canvas!]

[BIG POP]

CL: Landis is beginning to gain the advantage and so far neither Tara
or Emily look ready to throw the towel in.

FH: It is way too early for that, Chip. They both seem confident in
their husbands but only one of them should be.

CL: Oh?

FH: Emily, of course! Man, you're slow Chip!

[The Deathless One scrambles to his feet but eats a dropkick to the
face before he quites get to them. Landis yanks his brother in law to
his feet and whips him HARD into the turnbuckles! Fontana stumbles out
holding his back only for the Chicago native to leap on him and monkey
toss Il Eterno across the ring!]

[BIG POP]

CL: So far Landis is the only one showing reasons to inspire
confidence in their spouse, Fred!

FH: What do you know about inspiring confidence in a wife, Chip? I
have to put inspiration in your wife all the time!

[Perry scrambles to his feet only to get a boot to the midsection
sending him back down. Landis stomps on Fontana's head and then
reaches down, grabs his brother in law by his hair, and roughly pulls
him up to his knees. Tom looks over at his youngest sister Emily then
begins raining punches down on Fontana!]

[BIG POP]

CL: Tom Landis is raining punches down on his brother in law and did
you see him make sure to look directly at his sister Emily before he
did it?

FH: Pssh! He's trying to psyche her out but I am sure Fontana has her
well trained for this match!

[Emily glares angrily at her brother as he continues to rain punches
down on Fontana but the Deathless One maneuvers his arm under Tom and
his arm fires upwards..]

[MALE PAIN POP]

CL: What a dirty low blow that was by Fontana!

FH: His arm is probably dirty for having touched a Landis, much less
making contact with that area of one of them. But he is having a child
with a Landis so it's a little late to be scared for Fontana on that
subject.

[Landis drops to the canvas holding his groin while his wife Tara
shakes her head. Emily applauds her husband's low blow on her brother
with a defiant and angry look on her face. Il Eterno shakes off the
punches he was taking as he gets to his feet and glares down at his
brother in law. Perry grabs Tom and roughly pulls him up to his feet
only to snap mare the former MBC and UWF World Champion over. Fontana
hits a neck snap then scrambles to his feet and grabs Landis' arm and
twists it as he pulls his brother in law up.]

CL: Is this where it starts? Fontana going after Tom's arm.

FH: You knew it was coming, Chip.

[Fontana goes behind Landis with a hammerlock, then grabs Tom by the
hair with his free hand and drags his brother in law to the ropes and
drags him face first across the top rope!]

[BOOS]

[Tom stumbles away holding his face while the Deathless One smirks.
Fontana boots Landis in the midsection, doubling him over, then hooks
his brother in law by his had and nails a DDT! Fontana quickly
scrambles ontop of Landis and puts his shin over the side of Tom's
head and leans in with his weight, squishing the Hellraiser's face
into the mat. Perry reaches down and fish hooks Tom's mouth and pulls
back as hard as he can, while maintaining his leg over Landis' head.]

FH: That is Friggin' painful, Chip! That hurts me just watching it!

CL: The expression of pain on Landis' face tells the whole story!

[Perry stretches Landis with he hold for a bit before he releases the
hold. Fontana walks over to the corner where Tara is at and he begins
to taunt her!]

CL: Oh, come on!

FH: What? This is the point of the match, Chip! Make your opponent's
second throw the towel in either via how much horrific pain you put on
your opponent or by psyching out their second!

CL: Classless!

FH: When Tom uses this tactic we'll see if it magically becomes heroic
instead of classless. This is an ugly match to settle an ugly
situation, Chip!

[Tara shakes her head and ignores her much hated brother in law.
Fontana walks back to Landis and looks to reapply his fish hook hold
but Landis fires an elbow to Perry's midsection sending him back!]

[POP]

[Hellraiser gets on his feet and quickly grabs Fontana by the head and
hits a BIG Running Bulldog!]

[BIG POP]

CL: Perhaps it was too early for trying to psyche out a second as he
gave Landis time to do this and suddenly things are very different in
the early goings of this match!

FH: Fontana hasn't ripped Tom's arm off yet so yes, it is too early.

[Landis yanks Fontana up and puts a front facelock on him. Tom then
turns to look at Emily, who sends an angry glare back at her brother,
and then Landis DRIVES Fontana facefirst with a DDT! Emily winces from
the impact her husband just took but otherwise maintains her calm.]

FH: Come on, Chip! Decry the mind games now!

CL: Landis only sent a look towards his sister, Fred. Fontana was out
and out taunting Tara earlier!

FH: A look from Tom Landis, brother or not, is tantamount to abusive
torture in forty seven States in the USA and banned in at least
seventy three countries.

[Landis pulls Fontana up by his hair and then spins around.. FLOORS
his brother in law with a big roaring elbow! Perry struggles to his
feet only for Landis to spin around and.. DECK HIM AGAIN with another
roaring elbow! While Fontana tries to get to his feet, Landis gives a
look towards his sister Emily. The young woman only sends angry vibes
back towards her older brother. Tom nods his head then nails a THIRD
Roaring Elbow sending the Deathless One down yet again!]

[ROARING ELBOW POP]

CL: Landis hit THREE of those roaring elbows in a row!

FH: And made sure to show poor Emily his ugly mug while doing it!

[Fontana struggles to his knees, a trickle of blood flowing out of his
nose. Emily gasps, taken aback by her husband bleeding so early. She
tries to maintain her composure though and pulls the hood of her dress
up to cover her eyes.]

FH: Look at that, Chip! Tom is nothing but a BULLY to his sister!

CL: You said it earlier, Fred. It's part of the match. Psyche out your
opponent's second.

FH: See?! You only approve of bad things when your favorites do them!

[Landis sends Fontana into the ropes and then hits a back bodydrop
sending Il Eterno across the ring! Perry scrambles to his feet but Tom
cracks an Enziguiri Kick over the back of his head to send him back
down. Hellraiser then pulls Fontana up and whips him back first into a
corner. Landis charges in and leaps.. BIG SPLASH on Fontana in the
corner!]

[BIG POP]

[The Deathless One stumbles out of the corner and then is taken down
with an armdrag. Landis climbs on top of his brother in law and once
again begins raining punches down on Fontana. Tara cheers her husband
on, Brianna joining in with the cheers. Emily continues to look
unnerved by her sister Brianna being on Tom's side. Tom stops his
punches and looks over at Emily. He tells her she stop it before it
gets worse. Emily shakes her head defiantly and Tom continues with his
punches on Fontana.]

CL: Neither lady is moved to throwing in the towel yet.

FH: There is only one lady there, Chip. Tara is..

CL: Maybe you shouldn't go there, Fred.

FH: True. People can look it up on Wikipedia and see for themselves.
The internet doesn't tell lies.

[Landis stops his barrage of punches, which have caused a bit more
blood to flow from Fontana's nose. He roughly pulls up his brother in
law and tosses him outside the ring, not too far away from Emily. The
young woman takes a few steps back, looking a little scared at what
might happen. Tom follows out and goes for a right hand on Fontana but
Il Eterno catches Tom's arm and counters into an armbar. Perry then
uses the armbar to toss Landis into the guard railing!]

FH: Ha! I love that Landis' plan to take things out of the ring is
backfiring on him!

CL: You would.

[Fontana gives a look to his wife Emily, telling her not to forget
what is at stake. She nods her head. Then Perry looks over at Tara and
makes his way towards his sister in law. Fontana begins to taunt her
yet again.]

[LOUD BOOS]

CL: This is disgusting! He just told Tara to stop this before Chelsea
loses a father!

FH: I am pretty sure he said Kelsey, but how is this any more
disgusting than Tom telling Emily she can stop this before things are
made worse for the father of her future child?

[Tara shakes her head defiantly at Fontana which doesn't make Il
Eterno a very happy man. He steps away but then his temper seems to
build up and he starts turning to get in Tara's face again when...]

*SMACK*

[HUGE GIANT POP]

FH: HEY!

CL: Brianna Landis hopped the railing and just SLAPPED the taste out
of Fontana's mouth!

[Emily is beside herself with anger at her sister slapping Emily's
husband. Fontana looks INFURIATED himself, holding his face, his eyes
ready to pop out of his head. He is so angry he doesn't hear his
wife's warnings as Tom comes up behind him! Landis spins Fontana
around and punches him in the face!]

[HUGE POP]

FH: This is SO not fair!

[The Hellraiser grabs Fontana and sends him CRASHING into the steel
steps!]

[LEAP TO THEIR FEET POP]

CL: Everything is fair here, Fred. It is all about making someone
throw in the towel for your opponent.

FH: I will remember this when Tom's arm is dangling in Perry's hands
and being used as a weapon to bludgeon him with!

[Tom hugs his sister Brianna to the cheers of the crowd. Emily's eyes
are almost twitching from anger over what is going on.  Fontana
struggles to his knees only for Landis to come up and yank him up and
toss him back into the ring. Tom gives a look at Emily and tells her
she can stop Perry's pain anytime she wants. The young Mrs. Fontana
shakes her head and Tom shrugs and rolls back inside the ring.]

FH: That is disgusting!

CL: How so?

FH: It.. It is the same as what you say Fontana has done towards that
slu-

CL: Fred!

FH: It is the same thing! So if Perry does it and you say it is
disgusting well..

[Tom points to Brianna and then....]

[HUGE BRIANNA POP]

CL: Landis just hit one of his sister Brianna's signature moves, the
Ranhei!

FH: This showing favoritism to one sister over another has to be a
psychological tactic alongside his terrorizing and bullying he has
been employing towards his poor sister, Emily!

CL: No doubt there has to be a tactic to it as Emily looks quite upset
by this.

FH: I bet she feels abandoned, Chip. The "bad" sister is even on Tom's
side!

[Landis goes yank Fontana up only to get a rake to his eyes! Tom
staggers back holding his face. Fontana wipes the blood from his nose
then boots his brother in law in the gut. The Deathless One then
starts to set up for his Everlasting Bomb only for Landis to struggle
out and counter into setting up Fontana for an Elevated Gory Stretch
of his own!]

[HUGE COUNTER POP]

[Stretching Fontana, who looks to be in some pain, Landis turns
towards Emily and again tells her she can end Perry's misery anytime
she wants to.]

FH: This is just mental cruelty, Chip!

CL: It's all part of the match!

[Emily takes a hard gulp but then shakes her head and tries to hide
what is happening with the hood of her dress. Landis shakes his head
then transitions into.. A GORY BOMB!]

[BIG POP]

FH: Emily is stronger than Tom or any of you thought she would be!

CL: So far, Fred. So far.

[Tom pulls Fontana up and puts the standing headscissors on him. He
tries to lift him up for a Piledriver but the Deathless One blocks it
and counters with a back bodydrop! But that does not go to plan as
Landis lands on his feet and runs to the ropes. Perry spins around,
looking for Landis, only to eat a flying elbow smash FLOORING the
former TV Champion!]

[BIG POP]

CL: Landis seems to have Fontana's number.

FH: What?!

CL: First Tradition and now look at how he's dominated this match!

FH: When Landis is choking on his own arm and blood we will see if you
will take all of that back!

[Landis pulls Fontana up and drags him to a corner. Tom gets on the
2nd turnbuckle and sets up for the Diamond Dust... But Fontana grabs
the ropes, holding onto them and sneaking out while Landis leaps and
flips off the turnbuckles onto his back in the ring!]

FH: Ha! Take that, Chip!

CL: Me?!

[Landis scrambles to his feet only to have Fontana grab him by the
arm, leap up and bring both knees up and.. DOUBLE KNEE ARMBREAKER!]

[OUCH POP]

CL: My God!

FH: Did you see the impact of that, Chip?! Landis' arm almost popped
out of it's socket right there from that!

[Emily looks a little relieved, her husband not eating offense. Tara
looks a little concerned for her husband though after how that move
seemed to impact his arm. Brianna makes an unsure face. Landis grabs
his arm and winces from the pain. Il Eterno scrambles onto Landis,
grabs the arm and puts a Figure Four Armlock on his brother in law!]

[BOOS]

CL: Of course it always comes back to attacking the arm for Fontana.

FH: It always does, Chip. And look who's writhing in pain now!

[Indeed, Landis is in alot of pain. Fontana looks over at Tara and
begins to taunt her as he punishes Landis. Tara ignores her brother in
law though and instead yells encouragements to her husband. Brianna
joins in on yelling encouragements to her brother. Emily looks at her
sister and her sister in law in a united front behind her brother with
some emotional pain obvious in her face.]

CL: Emily looks really unnerved by Brianna being here for Tom.

FH: I told you, Chip. Abandonment. It's her family abandoning her to
stand behind Tom of all people! It's like endorsing belly button lint
over delicious cheese.

[The Deathless One releases the hold and smacks Landis while he's down
with a quick punch. Perry points to Tara and taunts her some more, to
which she continues to ignore. Fontana then gets to his feet, kicks
Landis in the head while he's down, then pulls his brother in law up
to his feet, grabs the arm and.. ARMBAR DRIVER! Fontana rolls to his
feet and heads to a corner and begins untying the padding from the
middle turnbuckle.]

[BOOS]

CL: What is Fontana doing?

FH: No doubt something that will bring alot of pain to Tom Landis.

[Il Eterno takes that padding off the middle turnbuckle then turns to
look at his brother in law with an evil gleam in his eyes. Fontana
stomps on Landis for good measure then pulls him up by his arm and
then short-arm drop toe hold trips Landis face first into the exposed
turnbuckle!]

[LOUD BOOS]

CL: Landis went face first into that exposed steel!

FH: That can bust someone open good, Chip!

[Landis grabs his face and rolls around in pain. Fontana shakes his
head then grabs a handful of Tom's hair and CRAMS his brother in law's
face against the exposed turnbuckle. Perry then puts his knee against
Landis' head and begins to GRIND his face into the exposed
turnbuckle!]

[HUGE BOOS]

CL: He's GRINDING his face against that exposed turnbuckle!

FH: He is going to make that goof bleed for certain!

[Emily looks a little uneasy as things take a more aggressive tone in
the match. Tara, on the other hand, is once again an audience to
Fontana's taunts. The Deathless One tells her to throw in the towel
before "Kelsey" has a father with a Halloween mask for a face but Tara
doesn't seem moved to give up on her man. She instead ignores her
brother in law's taunts and continues to yell encouragements to her
husband.]

FH: I can see her logic. Her husband's face is a plate of spaghetti
anyways, how is this really going to make it that much different.

CL: I do not think that is the logic she is using, Fred.

FH: Of course it is, Chip. Sad, though. She doesn't mind her husband
suffering all this pain just because his face is ugly already.

CL: *sigh*

[Fontana glares at Tom's wife then stops grinding his face with his
knee and grabs an arm, applies a hammerlock and a handful of hair and
goes back to grinding Landis' face and working the arm with the
hammerlock.]

[BOOS]

FH: This is great strategy by Fontana, Chip. Turn his face into
hamburger while tearing his arm off. One thing or another has to
appeal to Tara's softer side.

CL: It's not working yet.

[Indeed, Tara remains firm in not giving up on her husband. Fontana
stops and throws Landis backwards onto his back, his head smacking the
canvas. And a GASP emits from Emily when she sees her older brother's
forehead a bloody mess from the exposed turnbuckle attack. Perry is a
little alarmed by Emily's gasp and he gives his wife a stern look.
Emily composes herself trying to show she can do this. Fontana reminds
her again of what is at stake.]

[HUGE BOOS]

CL: This is just.. Unbelievable! He's telling his wife not to forget
it's either her brother or him, the father of her unborn baby! THAT is
mental cruelty, Fred!

FH: Chip, he said it's either the milksop of her brother or him. Let's
get things correct!

[Satisfied that his wife understands what is really at stake, Fontana
turns his attention back to his bleeding brother in law. Il Eterno
yanks him to his feet and drags him to the ropes and sets up for a
vertical suplex. Fontana calls out to Tara and threatens to suplex
"Kelsey's father" over the ropes to the floor outside and break his
back!]

[GIANT BOOS]

CL: What an abhorrent human being!

FH: Tom Landis is not a good guy, this is well established.

CL: I wasn't..

FH: No need to clarify.

[Tara glares at Fontana and shakes her head. Rage wells up in Perry's
eyes and then he goes to suplex Tom.. Only for Landis to block it!]

[POP]

[Tara and Brianna jump for joy, while Emily covers her eyes, as Landis
grabs Fontana and lifts him up in the and.. SPIKES him down with a
Brainbuster Suplex!]

[HUGE HEAD DROPPAGE POP]

CL: What a brainbuster by Landis! Right when he needed it!

FH: Bleh! He grabbed tights! He.. He.. He cheated!

[Fontana grabs his neck in pain while Landis leans against the ropes
and touches his bloodied forehead. Tara and Brianna continue to yell
encouragements to Tom. Emily sees this and nervously yells
encouragements to her husband, Fontana. Landis pulls himself up with
the ropes while Fontana tries to get to his knees. The Hellraiser
knees Fontana in the face, making the blood flow from his nose again.
Quickly Landis grabs Perry's legs and puts on.. THE FIGURE FOUR
LEGLOCK!]

[GIGANTIC HUGE POP]

CL: Oh My! Tom Landis has a Figure Four Leglock on Perry Fontana!

FH: Perry can escape this! He'll turn it into a reverse crab claw arm
snapper in any second!

[Fontana grimaces in pain while almost growling in a gutteral tone.
Emily looks scared for her husband while Tara cheers on her man. But
the Deathless One quickly turns the figure four over, putting the
pressure on his opponent who now grits his teeth and curses from the
pain.]

[BOOS]

CL: Fontana has reversed the hold and put the pressure on Landis, the
man who has the hold applied!

FH: I told you!

[Emily sighs relieved while Tara grits her teeth in a bit of
frustration. But soon Tara is smiling because Landis manages to turn
the hold back over and now once again he is the one with all the
pressure on Fontana's legs!]

[HUGE POP]

CL: Landis reversed it back!

FH: NO!

[Fontana quickly grabs the bottom ropes nearby and pulls himself out
onto the apron under the ropes, dragging Landis a piece. The
Hellraiser breaks the hold and grabs Fontana's legs. Il Eterno
realizes the predicament he's put himself in while trying to escape
the figure four but can do nothing as Landis slingshots Perry into the
bottom rope, guillotining him!]

[GIANT POP]

CL: Fontana thought he had escaped but he only put himself further
into harm's way!

FH: Fontana can't breathe! This is awful!

[Perry rolls to the floor outside and clutches at his throat while
gasping for air and coughing. Emily's lips quiver a bit and she looks
legit frightened for her husband. Her concern grows greater as Landis
rolls under the ropes to outside the ring after Fontana. Perry gets to
his feet only to take a running knee from behind that sends him face
first into a ring post!]

[BIG POP]

CL: Fontana's face SMACKED into that ring post!

FH: It was not a pretty sound, no.

[Emily looks on with a worried expression while Fontana holds his face
and kicks at the floor. Landis grabs Perry by his hair and yanks him
up and..]

*CRASH*

[POP]

[Rams Fontana face first into the guard railing! Tom points at Emily
and warns her that he'll do it again if she does not throw in the
towel. The young Mrs. Fontana looks at her brother with an uneasy
look, the defiant anger tempered with fear for her husband, but she
shakes her head. Tom grabs Fontana and..]

*CRASH*

[BIG POP]

CL: Landis has rammed Fontana face first into the guard railing twice
now!

FH: You left out he's bullying his sister to try and get what he wants
while doing so, Chip!

[Landis keeps ahold of Fontana, drags him to the ring apron, gives a
look at Emily who just gulps loudly, then Tom RAMS Perry face first
into the apron! Fontana drops to his knees, a trickle of blood
starting to flow from his forehead. Hellraiser, already with a
bloodied forehead, shakes his head and grabs Fontana by the hair and
pulls him up again and drags him over to the announce table. Emily
peeks around a corner, fear, concern and uncertainty in her eyes.
Landis gives her a look then...]

*SMACK*

FH: HEY! Watch it!

CL: Landis has just rammed Fontana's head here in front of us!

FH: Take it somewhere else, man! I don't want your Landis cooties!

CL: Fred!

FH: I don't!

[Tom smirks at Hoyle's comments then rams Fontana's head right in
front of Hoyle, making the long time commentator jump out of his seat
and back away from the table. Landis then grabs Fontana and drags him
towards a ring post. He looks at his youngest sister Emily then rams
Fontana face first into the ring post! Fontana falls to the floor
holding his head.]

[BIG POP]

CL: Fred you can come back they've moved away..

FH: Thank GOD!

[Landis pulls his brother in law to his feet and drags him towards the
steel steps. He repeats his warning to Emily but the young woman only
shakes in fear. Tom tries to read her reaction then..]

*CLANG*

[POP]

[He rams Fontana into the steel steps and then..]

*CLANG*

[He does it again! And then..]

*CLANG*

[BIG POP]

[Again! And then...]

*CLANG*

Crowd: FOUR!

*CLANG*

Crowd: FIVE!

*CLANG*

Crowd: SIX!

*CLANG*

Crowd: SEVEN!

FH: This is brutality!

*CLANG*

CROWD: EIGHT!

CL: We should've expected to nothing less in this match..

*CLANG*

Crowd: NINE!

*CLANG*

Crowd: TEN!

[GIANT HUGE POP]

[Fontana is slumped over the steps while Landis catches his breath
from ramming his brother in law TEN times into the steps. Emily looks
near tears while Tara and Brianna cheer on Tom. Landis grabs Fontana
by his hair and then lifts up his face to show to Emily.]

[GASP MEGA JUICE POP]

CL: Fontana's face is a BLOODY mess!

FH: Look at this SICK, sadistic BASTARD bullying his younger sister by
showing her the bloodied face of the father of her unborn baby!

[Emily looks as if she is going to be sick as she begins to shake and
the tears begin to fall down her face. Fontana mumbles something about
what is really at stake while Landis asks her what it's going to be.
Emily drops to a squatted position and covers her face with the towel
and her hands!]

[BOOS]

FH: I can't believe these people are booing this poor girl!

CL: I can not vouch for booing Emily either, but look at Tom! He can't
believe that his sister will not throw in the towel!

[Landis does look in utter disbelief, as if he was sure a super
bloodied Fontana would be enough to make Emily give up the game. Tara
and Brianna look at each other and shake their heads, in some
disbelief themselves that Emily hasn't given it up. None of them are
paying enough attention to Fontana who sneaks under Tom's arm then
surprises his brother in law by grabbing ahold of him, popping up and
snapping back... WITH A BACKDROP SUPLEX ON THE FLOOR!]

[YOWZA MAJOR HEAD DROPPAGE POP]

CL: What a suplex by Fontana! I didn't see it coming!

FH: Ha! Neither did Landis!

[Tom holds his neck on the floor while Fontana sits up and leans
against the guard railing, blood flowing down his face. Emily peeks
over the top of her towel and is shocked but relieved to see her
husband getting to his feet and her brother down on the ground. Il
Eterno glares down at his brother in law before yanking him to his
feet and then..]

*THUD*

[OUCH POP]

CL: Cauterizer! Fontana hit that Wristlock Arm Scissor DDT, driving
Landis into the floor!

FH: Woah! Look at this! That's a great idea!

CL: This is NOT a good idea!

FH: It is a wonderful idea!

[The BOOS rain down as Fontana begins pulling the protective mat off
the floor, exposing the concrete! Tara looks a bit worried at what
Fontana might have in store for her husband. Perry doesn't let her
guess for long as he pulls Landis up, applies a hammerlock and
standing headscissors and then.. ]

*SMACKATHUD*

[EGADS OWWWWW]

CL: Good God!

FH: Hammerlock assisted Facebreaker right onto the concrete, Chip!

CL: That was just absolutely BRUTAL!

[Fans begin to BOO as Fontana goes for a chair and Landis holds his
face as he lays on the concrete floor. Tara looks alarmed at the sight
of her brother in law holding a chair.]

CL: Oh no.. Fontana has a chair. Something really bad is coming.

FH: I don't know, Chip. Fontana is not one so much for weapons.

[Emily looks concerned herself, not sure what her husband has in mind
with that chair. None of them expect what happens next. Fontana sets
up the chair at ringside then turns his bloodied smirk towards Tom's
wife, Tara, and offers her to sit in the chair and enjoy a better view
of what is to come.]

[OH (MEEP) YOU BOOS]

CL: Damn Fontana! He is such a jerk!

[Tara uses more colorful language in turning down her brother in law's
offer.]

FH: What a mouth on her.. Not that anyone is surprised..

[Fontana laughs at his sister in law's colorful response then wipes
some of the blood off his head and flicks it in the direction of
Brianna Landis..]

[DAMN YOU TO HECK BOOS]

CL: How Disgusting! What a filthy waste of air Fontana is!

FH: Calm down, Chip! The wench did slap Perry earlier!

CL: Fontana is completely classless!

[Brianna looks PISSED and Tara tries to calm her down while Fontana
begins the set up to a hold he learned in Mexico during his days as El
Hombre Lobo. The set up is complicated, the finish result is kind of
complicated but it's also PAINFUL as heck on Landis' arms as he is
locked into the LA CRUZ NIPONA GOOD AND TIGHT!]

CL: Fontana is inflicting HUGE punishment to Landis' arms out here on
the floor and.. That clod! He's taunting Tara again!

FH: Well he has to get her attention someway so she notices her
husband's arm might get snapped if she does not throw in the towel!

[Tara sees the pain in her husband's face as he grits his teeth and
tries not to cry out from the painful lucha submission hold but she
stands firm and does not throw in the towel. Fontana snorts angrily
then drags Landis, still in that hold, towards the steel steps. He
then trips his brother in law and...]

*CLANGAKANNN*

CL: My God!

FH: Exactly!

[Fontana drives Landis face first into the steel steps out of the Cruz
Nipona. The Deathless One then drags his brother in law to the guard
railing, weaves one of Tom's arms around a rung of the railing, then
while torquing it over that rung, grabs ahold of Landis head with his
other hand and..]

*SMACK*

[Rams it into the guard railing.]

*SMACK*

*SMACK*

*SMACK*

*SMACK*

[SUPER DUPER BOOS as Fontana rams Landis repeatedly into the guard
railing from this position. Tara flinches, Brianna looks uneasy, but
Tara shakes her head and refuses to throw in the towel.]

FH: That is one tough broad if she can live with her husband taking
this kind of abuse!

CL: Tara Marshall has been in many wars herself in her wrestling
career so it should come as no surprise. Besides.. She knows what this
means to her husband.

FH: You don't think this means as much or more to Fontana?

[Il Eterno stops his attack and lets Landis fall to his back, a bloody
mess. They both are fairly bloody messes right now actually. Emily
looks at all the blood and covers her face with the towel. Fontana,
meanwhile, drags Landis towards the exposed cement and shoots a glare
in Tara's direction. The man who held the PVW Tag Team Championships
with the man he now sets up for another Hammerlock Facebreaker stops
to taunt his sister in law. Tara doesn't budge but that moment allows
Landis the opportunity to stand up and back bodydrop Fontana and
escape being smashed into the concrete again!]

[SUPER DUPER POP]

CL: Tom Landis has escaped yet again at the time he needed it most!

FH: Damnit!

[Fontana rolls around holding his back while Landis sits on his knees
trying to recover. Tara and Brianna cheer Tom on while Emily peeks
over the top of the towel and then looks on in fear. Landis gets to
his feet and then drops a quick knee drop on Fontana's head.
Hellraiser then yanks his brother in law up, hooks him and... ]

*SMACKADACKATHUDDD*

[GIANG SUPER DUPER POP]

CL: Woah!

FH: NO!

CL: A BRUTAL Implant DDT onto that exposed concrete!

FH: That noise when Fontana's face hit the concrete! Wow!

[The fans cheer WILDLY, while Emily's eyes grow wide and a shiver goes
down her spine. She covers her face with one hand, scared to look.]

CL: Emily Fontana is starting to see the brutality that she was warned
about.

FH: She better remember what is at stake though, Chip. It's not just a
win or loss at stake. Fontana said it before.. If she throws in that
towel she is filing for divorce from the man who is the father of her
unborn child.

CL: That is an incredibly cruel and torturous condition to place on
this young woman who has no experience around this sort of thing!

FH: It's how the chips have fallen for her. Lose a brother or lose a
husband and father to your unboard baby.

[As Emily's cruel predicament sits on our minds, Landis grabs the
chair that Fontana set up for Tara to sit in. He folds it up and
stomps over towards Fontana then calls out to his sister Emily. She
looks at her brother, a frightened expression on her face, and when
then he raises the chair up and.. ]

*SMACK*

[BIG POP]

[Slams the chair down across the back of Fontana! The Deathless One
rolls around in pain while Emily shivers and looks sick to her
stomach. Landis raises the chair, looks at his sister, notes her
freaked out expression and then he brings the chair down across
Fontana's back again! Tom raises it up faster and brings it down again
even harder and faster! Emily goes weak and falls to her knees!]

[OH MY GOD POP]

CL: Emily is on her knees!

FH: THIS is Friggin' cruelty, Chip! What a SICK jerk this Tom Landis
is!

[Fontana rolls away from Landis, and towards his wife a bit. Tom looks
almost pleased that the action has gotten closer to his youngest
sister, Emily, and he raises the chair up again and, in front of his
sister, SLAMS IT DOWN AGAIN On Fontana!]

CL: My God, Fred! Look at her! This is heartbreaking!

FH: Landis is ripping her guts out, Chip! He's a monster!

CL: Fontana is the one who put her in this match, Fred!

[Tears pour down Emily's face and she begins to beg with her older
brother not to hit Fontana with the chair again!]

CL: Oh MY!

FH: She's BEGGING her brother not to hit her husband with that chair!

[Landis insists Emily throw in the towel. Mrs. Fontana looks at the
towel and then at her husband and her face, both lovely and heart
breakingly sad at the same time, moves side to side, shaking it's head
and she tells her brother she can't.]

CL: My Goodness! The emotional torture this poor girl is going
through!

FH: She knows what's at stake, Chip! She's choosing her marriage over
her brother!

[Fontana gets to his knees, bleeding all over the place. Emily looks
at her husband bleeding all over the place and her eyes grow wider
than ever and then her brother lifts the chair up into the air and
then...]

*GASSSSSPPPPP*

[FONTANA GRABS HIS WIFE AND MOVES HER IN THE WAY OF THE CHAIR SHOT..
Which Landis just BARELY manages to stop before it hits his sister!]

[BLOW THE WALLS TO SMITHREENS BOOS]

CL: FONTANA! He..

FH: Unbelievable!

CL: HE USED HIS PREGNANT WIFE AS A HUMAN SHIELD!

FH: Perry what the [MEEP] are you doing?!

[SCORCH THE EART BOOS rain down at Fontana's unbelievable behavior!
Fans at ringside look HORRIFIED at what almost happened! Landis is
taken aback at almost SMASHING a chair over his sister's head! Tara
and Brianna are in complete shock. Emily Fontana is FROZEN in fear!
Her face a frozen mask with an expression as if her life is flashing
before her face. Amidst all this shock at Fontana using his pregnant
wife as a human shield, Il Eterno moves around his wife and.. PUNCHES
LANDIS AS HARD AS HE CAN IN THE GROIN!]

[DIE YOU BASTARD BOOS]

CL: DAMN YOU FONTANA! Damn you to HELL for using your pregnant wife as
a human shield!

FH: I can not believe he did that, Chip!

CL: All to gain an advantage! All for a [MEEP]ing cheap advantage in a
match! He put his wife in danger for that?!

FH: What were you thinking, Perry? What on EARTH were you thinking?!

[Landis is on the floor, obviously, holding his groin in incredible
pain. Emily is still FROZEN to the spot, her eyes have a strange
traumatized shock quality to them. Her husband is in motion though as
he yanks Landis up and rolls him back into the ring. He grabs the
chair that almost hit his wife, thanks to Fontana putting her in the
way, and rolls back inside the ring. Tara looks at her husband in the
ring then at her sister in law, Emily, with a look of disbelief, then
looks at her brother in law, Perry, with a look of total disgust.]

CL: Fontana has proven how inhuman he is tonight!

FH: He has that chair..

*SMACK*

[BOOS]

[Fontana brings the chair down on Tom's shoulder then puts his brother
in law's arm in the chair, folding it around his arm. Tara and Brianna
are immediately alarmed back to reality at what is being set up in
front of them while Il Eterno climbs to the 2nd turnbuckle. Fontana
leaps off...]

*SMACKACLANG*

[FUDGING FUDGESICLES FUDGE]

CL: MY GOD! MY GOD! Fontan may have just broken Tom Landis' arm there!

FH: He nailed a Double Foot Stomp on that chair, Chip!

[Landis rolls around, guttural pained noises emitting from him, as he
holds his arm and grimaces in obvious pain. Tara looks VERY concerned
as does Brianna. Emily doesn't even turn to look at what is happening
in the ring. She is trembling and holding the towel tightly in her
hands, her knuckles almost white from how tight she is holding it,
still caught in the fear of nearly being hit by that chair when her
husband used her as a human shield. Fontana drops a knee on Landis
shoulder and then transitions into.. THE CROSS ARMBREAKER!]

[HATE YOU BOOS]

CL: Perry Fontana has a Cross Armbreaker on Landis and LISTEN to the
Hellraiser scream!

FH: It's that arm that took that chair double foot stomp, Chip! Who
knows the damage done from that move much less from having it
stretched like this!

[Tara runs her hand over her face and closes her eyes but they flash
open as her husband SCREAMS from the pain! A look of panic begins to
take over her fairly stoic expression till now. Brianna Landis looks
scared for her brother as he cries out from the pain. Tara Marshall
looks down at the towel, then at her husband in so much pain.]

CL: Tom's wife is doing some soul searching right now..

FH: She better throw that towel, Chip! If Fontana will use his wife as
a human shield he will have NO problems breaking Landis' arm!

[Fontana notices Tara finally showing signs of doubt in her husband
and he begins to yell at her to throw in the towel and end Tom's pain.
This alarms Landis and he looks at his wife and YELLS at her not to
throw in the towel!]

[BIG POP]

CL: Landis is pleading with his wife not to do it!

FH: What is wrong with him? Did he not see Fontana use Emily as a
human shield? He should let it end while it's just this bad! It may
easily get WORSE!

[Tara looks torn on what the right thing to do is, but Tom yells for
her not to give up on him. The former multiple time women's champion
closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and.. shakes her head and does
NOT throw in the towel!]

[HUGE POP]

FH: Why are these fans cheering? They WANT Tom Landis to be crippled?

CL: Tara Marshall is not going to give up on her husband, Fred!

FH: Not yet! For Crissake, Chip.. I'M SCARED OF WHAT FONTANA MIGHT DO
NEXT!

[Tara looks uncomfortable with her decision and Brianna looks unsure
of her sister in law's decision as well but Tom seems a bit at ease
that they did not give up on him. Fontana looks PISSED that they will
not give up on Landis yet and he breaks the hold and Landis pulls his
arm to himself and seems to shake from the pain. Emily looks over and
watches her brother holding his arm and trembling from pain.]

CL: What must be going through Emily's mind. Her husband used her as a
human shield and she's watching as her brother and her husband bleed
and destroy one another.

FH: It.. Has gone further than I could have imagined it would, Chip.
And.. There is no telling where it might go.

CL: That is the scary truth.

FH: It is.

[Fontana puts a hammerlock on Landis and then begins raining knee
strikes against Tom's head, jolting everyone back to reality. Strike
after strike, blow after blow, smacking HARD against Landis' head. Il
Eterno taunts Tara as he lands blow after blow on her husband. Tara
refuses to throw in the towel each time. Rage reads all over Perry's
face and he stops the attack and lets Landis slump down to the canvas.
The Deathless one eyes the chair and he picks it up and stands over
Landis.]

FH: Seeing Fontana with a chair in his hand looks so strange yet.. I
expect almost anything at this point!

CL: Something bad is in store for certain!

[Fontana lifts the chair up in the air over Landis then looks over at
Tara and asks her what it's going to be. Tara shakes her head
defiantly. Perry snorts angrily and then..]

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

[SHAKE THE EARTH BOOS]

[Over and over and over..]

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

[Fontana slams that chair down on his brother in law, alternating
between hitting his head and hitting his shoulder. Repeatedly, again
and again and again, the steel is brought down bludgeoning the former
MBC & UWF World Champion. Tara closes her eyes but forces them open
and watches as...]

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

[Over and over, Fontana brings the chair down on his brother in law.
Tara takes a hard gulp but shakes her head, refusing to throw in the
towel. Refusing to give up on her husband. Fontana keeps raining the
chair shots down while glaring at Tara's stubbornness until.. A small,
weak voice crying out "Tom" catches his attention. Perry stops his
attack to see his wife, Emily, crying for her brother!]

[SHOCK POP]

CL: My God! Emily Fontana is crying for her brother!

FH: Chip.. I think.. I think Emily is thinking of throwing in the
towel to save her brother!

[Indeed, Emily is looking at the towel, then looking at her brother
and the awful bludgeoning he has been on the receiving end and has an
almost crazed look in her eyes.]

CL: Fred, I think she just wants this to stop!

FH: As if she just wants everyone's torture to end! Unbelievable!

[Fontana's eyes grow wide in panic and he throws down the chair and
scrambles out of the ring. He grabs Emily's hands..]

[OH DAMN YOU DAMN YOU DAMN YOU BOOS]

CL: Oh My God! What is Fontana going to do to his wife?!

FH: I don't know, Chip! I.. I'm scared for Emily!

[Emily looks up at her husband, tears down her face, a pleading look
upon her beautiful face. The expression turns to complete shock and
hurt as Perry grabs the towel and.. TIES IT INTO A LOVER'S KNOT AROUND
HER HANDS LIKE A HANDCUFF!!]

[BIGGEST UNIVERSE SHATTERING BOOS EVER]

CL: I.. I can't...

FH: He's.. Tying her hands...

CL: Emily was maybe going to save her brother but.. Fontana has tied
her hands so she can't throw the towel in at all!

FH: My God, Chip! MY GOD!

[Tara is BEYOND stunned at what she is witnessing. Brianna's face is a
mix of shock and utter and total contempt towards Fontana for what he
is putting her youngest sister through. As Fontana finishes the knot
he puts her hands down with a stern motion then rolls back in the
ring. All the shock and hurt slowly fades from Emily's face and she
goes into a wide eyed numbness.]

CL: My God, Fred! The girl.. The poor girl!

FH: She looks dead inside, Chip! This is.. maybe the most awful thing
I've seen!

[Amidst the most NUCLEAR boos PVW has seen in it's history Il Eterno,
Perry Fontana, rolls back into the ring. Brianna finally springs into
action and she moves past Tara and rushes over to Emily and says
something to her but the young lady doesn't respond, in a near
catatonic state. Brianna tries to undo the Lover's Knot but it's damn
tricky. Fontana watches this with some concern which is just enough
distraction for him to be caught by surprise when Tom Landis greets
him with.. A PUNCH TO THE FAMILY JEWELS!]

[OH HELL YES BLOW THE ROOF OFF POP]

CL: Perry Fontana wasted so much time tying his wife that he gave
Landis enough time to recover to pay him back for the low blows
earlier!

FH: This is so strange, Chip. I.. I WANT Landis to Kick Fontana's ass
right now!

[Fontana is doubled over, eyes wide opened, holding his groin. Landis
grabs the chair and JABS it into Fontana's gut.]

[HUGE POP]

[Landis slowly gets to his feet, chair in hand, then he lifts the
chair up, blood pouring down his angry face, and then..]

*SMACKACRACK*

[HARD Chair Shot across Fontana's back! The Deathless One rolls around
in pain while Landis tosses the chair down on the canvas. Hellraiser
pulls Fontana up to his feet, begins setting his brother in law up
and.. Yanks him up into the air and...]

*SMACKATHUDDDDD*

[LEAP TO THEIR FEET HELL YES OMEGA SUPREME POP]

CL: CROSSED ARM POWERBOMB ONTO THAT CHAIR!

FH: Oh My God! Just.. WOW!

[Fontana rolls around holding his back and cursing in French. The
crowd is LOSING IT! Tara looks relieved while Brianna gives up trying
to untie her sister, who is not responding to anything, and walks back
over to her sister in law. Landis leans against the ropes and rubs his
arm while he grimaces in pain. Tara asks her husband if he is OK. Tom
nods his head while grimacing then comes off the ropes and walks
towards his brother in law. Landis grits his teeth then reaches down
and pulls Fontana up to his feet, grimacing all the while as his arm
is in great pain. Tom hooks Fontana and with a cry lifts him up in the
air..]

[HUGE ANTICIPATION POP]

CL: CHICAGO THUNDERBOMB II!

FH: Ye-Oh?!

[While upside down Fontana twists out and lands behind Landis. Il
Eterno quickly hooks Tom from behind for a suplex but.. LANDIS SHOCKS
PERRY BY COUNTER INTO A ROLLING KNEEBAR!]

[HOLY MOLY RAVIOLI POP]

CL: YES!

FH: Unbelievable!

[The crowd is ON THEIR FEET LOSING THEIR MINDS! Fontana is in
INCREDIBLE pain as Landis stretches his leg in awful ways! Perry lets
out a guttural yell from the pain. Tara glances over at Emily and then
realizes.. Her towel is tied around her hands! Brianna tells Tara she
couldn't untie it. Tara races over to Emily and yells at her, but gets
no response as Emily is deep into shock. Tara begins trying to undo
the Lover's Knot.]

[GIANT UNTIE IT POP]

CL: Tara Marshall is trying to free her sister in law!

FH: She's doing it so they can make Emily throw in the towel but
hopefully SOMEONE will free this poor girl!

CL: No matter the reasoning.

FH: Right.

[Fontana's eyes go WIDE with panic at Tara working feverishly on those
knots and he looks around in a panic for something.. anything.. and
then.. he sees it... He grabs it.. He lifts it up into the air and..
HE SMACKS THE CHAIR OVER TOM'S HEAD FORCING THE KNEEBAR TO BE BROKEN!]

[SUPER MAJOR DEFLATION POP]

CL: No! NO!

FH: Oh My God!

[Tara stops in her tracks and looks in the ring with complete
disbelief! Fontana grabs his leg as he gets to his knees and rubs it
angrily while Landis lays on the mat, bleeding and exhausted. Fontana
grabs the chair and gets to his feet, stumbles from the pain in his
leg, then steadies himself and drives the edge of the chair, with all
his weight behind it, DOWN ONTO TOM'S SHOULDER!]

[DAMN YOU TO HELL BOOOS]

CL: OH! I've never seen such a.. He drove that chair down with all his
weight onto Landis' shoulder!

FH: His arm and shoulder has been through so much already, Chip..
How can it take more?

[Tara leaves Emily to her deep shock and runs to her corner, towel in
her hand, and watches helplessly as Perry Fontana applies the dreaded
Amputation on Tom Landis in Tom's corner in full view of Tara and
Brianna!]

[HUGE SUPER DUPER GIANT BOOS]

CL: THE AMPUTATION!

FH: My God! Landis' screams!

[The Hellraiser SCREAMS from the INCREDIBLE pain! Brianna turns away,
unable to make herself watch what is unfolding. Tara tries to remain
calm but it collapses as Landis HOWLS in pain and the tears begin to
fall down her face.]

CL: This is awful! After all the obscene inhuman things this monster
Fontana has done to this family.. All the things Tom wanted to stand
up against.. To put a stop to..

FH: And it ends with Perry Fontana ripping his arm off! I called it
but..

[Landis sees his wife crying and he grits his teeth through the
incredible pain and pleads with her not to throw in the towel!]

CL: I.. I don't know.

FH: This is insanity, Chip!

[Tara is in tears as she looks at her husband having his arm torn
apart and then down to the towel in her hands. Tom cries out then
shakes his head and tells his wife not to do it. He tells her not to
let him win. Tara looks at Tom's arm and a panic seems to fill her
crying face. She pleads with Tom to let her throw in the towel.]

CL: She's pleading with her husband to let her stop this!

FH: Fontana's telling him to listen to his wife!

[Indeed, Il Eterno is telling Tom to take his wife's advice but Landis
responds with a "(MEEP) You!" towards his brother in law!]

[GIANT POP]

CL: Wow!

[Landis then BEGS Tara not to throw in the towel. Brianna can not
bring herself to turn around and watch what is happening, while Emily
just stares into space, frozen in traumatized shock. Tara cries her
eyes out then wipes the tears and pleads with her husband.]

CL: Tara is telling her husband if they don't stop the match his
shoulder could be so messed up his career may be over!

FH: With the way his shoulder is bending I am thinking that is a very
real possibility! I am pretty scared about what is most likely going
to happen in a bit here if this does not get stopped!

[Landis CRIES OUT from the pain as Fontana stretches him! Perry yells
into Tom's ear that he WILL end Tom's career if he does not listen to
his wife. Again Landis replies with a censored expletive towards his
brother in law and he begs his wife not to throw in the towel! Tara's
face is turning into a mess! Make up running down her face, tears
streaming, her expression showing that she is TORN inside on what to
do. Fontana screams at Tara now.]

[MAJOR BOOS]

CL: Fontana is telling Tara not to listen to her husband and save him
by throwing in the towel!

FH: These fans maybe do not like it but I am telling you, from the
looks of Landis' shoulder they should hope she does it soon or else we
are going to see something to make our stomach turn!

[Tom pleads with Tara not to do it. Landis' poor wife shakes her head
sadly, in almost defeat. She refuses to throw in the towel. This
ENRAGES Fontana who then pulls harder and harder until...]

*CRUNCHAPOP*

[DEAR GOD ABOVE SWEET MOTHER OF MERCY SAVE ME]

CL: Dear God...

FH: I told you! Damnit!

[A scream of such haunting quality unleashes out of Tom Landis which
along with the sound effect and the visual proof that the camera
provided of what just happened to his shoulder... DISLOCATION!]

[Stunned Silence]

CL: Perry Fontana has dislocated Tom Landi's shoulder.

FH: It is.. Just beyond words, Chip. Beyond any and all words.

[Amidst Tom's HORRIFIC screams of pain, Brianna rushes to Tara and
grabs her sister in law and BEGS her to throw in the towel! Tara
trembles, shaking almost from the horrific scene she has just
witnessed and the screams and cries sure to haunt her dreams. Fontana
releases the hold and then to the HORROR of everyone he grabs ahold of
his brother in law's arm, to his misfortune, and...]

*CRUNCHAPOP*

[OH SWEET MERCIFUL HEAVEN SAVE US]

CL: DEAR GOD!

FH: Just.. [MEEP]! [MEEP]!

CL: PERRY FONTANA HAS POPPED TOM LANDIS' ARM BACK INTO IT'S SOCKET!

FH: Jesus Christ!

[It's debatable which scream haunts everyone more.. The one from when
Tom's arm was dislocated or this one when it was popped back into it's
socket. Both are AWFUL and make the fans look uncomfortable and a bit
sick. Some female fans and younger fans are openly crying at what they
are witnessing. Brianna grabs her stomach and falls to her knees, her
guts ripped out emotionally by what her brother is going through. Tara
looks SCARED OUT OF HER MIND at what she has just witnessed.]

FH: She has to throw that damn towel in, Chip!

CL: She HAS to! Fontana has shown he will stoop to anything to win
this match! Use his wife as a human shield, dislocate Tom's shoulder
and pop it back into place!

FH: Nothing is going to stop him until Marshall throws that damned
towel!

[Brianna looks up only to scream, in unison with Tara, as Fontana PUTS
THE AMPUTATION BACK ON A SCREAMING TOM LANDIS!]

[DEAR GOD SAVE US GASP]

CL: NO! HE'S PUT THE AMPUTATION BACK ON!

FH: For God's sake, Perry! FOR GOD'S SAKE!

[Landis CLAWS at the canvas as he SCREAMS from the horrific pain! Tara
leans under the ropes and tells Tom she HAS to stop it!]

CL: Thank God!

[Tom shakes his head and screams at her NOT to do it!]

FH: Damnit!

[Tara cries but then she yells to get Tom's attention all the while
Fontana close to dislocating the arm once again!]

CM: Oh my God, Marshall just asked Landis if he loves his daughter!

FH: Yes, think of her, Tom!

[Landis grits his teeth in an almost grotesque grimace from the pain.
His wife continues..]

CM: She asked him if he wants to be able to hold his daughter! If he
wants to be able to play with his daughter!

FH: Listen to her, Tom!

[Tom gnashes his teeth so hard his gums begin to bleed as he tries not
to scream from the awful pain as his shoulder looks close to being
dislocated again at any moment. Tara pleads with her husband.]

CM: Tara just told Tom to let her stop this for their daughter's sake!
She is POURING her heart out to her husband in front of the world!

FH: Please, Dear God! Please make this man listen to his wife!

[Tara's plea has hit Tom right in his gut. He almost gets teary eyed
before he nods his head. Tara breaks down and through her tears says
"Thank You" and then.. SHE TOSSES THE TOWEL IN!]

*DING DING DING*

[THANK GOD POP]

CM: Oh My God! OH MY GOD SHE DID IT!

FH: Landis finally let her throw the towel away!

CM: Tom Landis did it for the sake of his family! For the good of his
family Tom Landis has made the right decision!

FH: I agree! Thank GOD he finally made that decision!

[Fontana releases the hold and collapses onto his back in the ring,
his energy spent but a bloodied sick smile on his face. Tara and
Brianna reach into the ring in a desperate scramble and pull a
screaming Tom Landis out of the ring as fast as they can while Herk
Douglas makes the announcement.]

HD: Here is your winner... PERRY FONTANA!

[HUGE ANGRY BOOS]

FH: Chip, I know these fans are mad that Fontana ended up winning this
match...

CL: Yes.

FH: But Tom Landis, arm as messed up as it is and everything, he made
a decision for the good of his family. The GOOD of his family.

CL: He did, Yes.

FH: Perry Fontana threw his pregnant wife in the direction of a chair
shot and scarred her beyond all belief. He has taken a book of matches
and burnt his family down all for a notch in the win column. Fontana
may have his arm raised but in the bigger game of life.. He has maybe
lost it all.

[Tara and Brianna, apparently afraid that Fontana could attack at any
moment putting nothing past him after tonight, help Tom to his feet
and quickly lead him towards the back. None of them put an eye on
Emily as they leave. Her hands still bound by the towel, her eyes
still cold and dead looking.]

CL: Truly a heartbreaking scene tonight. Perry Fontana has won the
match but like you said, Fred. He has destroyed his family. He has
wrecked this young woman who is bearing his unborn child. All for the
pursuit of victory.

FH: Who knows what the future holds for Emily.

[As we pan away from the depressing image of traumatized to numbness
Emily Fontana we see Perry Fontana laying in a bloody mess still in
the middle of the ring. Still smiling but at what cost?]

FH: The Phoenix, EMT's are busy tonight!

CL: I .. I don't know what to say.  Let's go backstage.

[A bare white wall with a man in a black duster jacket standing in
front of it. This is Gibson Hayes. Gibson has his hair is in his
typical afro and you can see his blue suit with white shirt and red
tie underneath the open duster front.]

This is it, folks.

[Hayes looks down at his expensive leather shoes and then looks back
up at the camera.]

This is the stuff that makes up millions of Americans' dreams. A
chance at a world title. A chance at immortality. A chance at a
legacy.

[America's Last, Best Hope for a Bright Future and Better Tomorrow
snorts and then smirks.]

I am not millions of Americans. I am better than those teeming
unwashed masses yearning to be free. The hopes and dreams of America
ride on the broad, strong shoulders of Gibson Hayes. I am not afraid.
I am not going to be denied. I am not going to lose. I'll give you
five reasons why America's fortune will smile, as usual, on Gibson
Hayes.

[Gibson raises his right hand and the index finger on said hand.]

Matthew Holliday has his back to the wall. There is no exit plan, no
back up scheme, no way out. Matthew, Doc, is an incredible wrestler...
well, at least he was until he had his little heart broken. Now? Now
Matthew is a wounded beast, snarling at the creature who did him
wrong. He is not expecting a vulture swooping in to kill him and his
enemy.

[The second finger goes up.]

Rick Marley underestimates Gibson Hayes. Marley thinks that cutting
and running countless times with the help of his little school yard
club, then cutting them loose, made him better. Au contraire, Richard,
it has shown your soft underbelly. Your doubts have begun to gnaw on
you, your past has come a'calling and your conscious nags you. You may
have survived big challenge after big challenge to get here, Marls,
but you have never had the giant bullseye painted on your back.

[Finger number three!]

Gibson Hayes has done nothing but win in PVW. Gibson Hayes is PVW's
golden child. Gibson Hayes is PVW. Like it or not, and I assure you
many do not, Gibson Hayes will finish his PVW career being involved in
anything of importance in this federation. Take of that what you will,
lesser folks.

[Four.]
I am focused on the title and nothing else. Holliday wants revenge,
Marley wants to prove himself. That is all hogwash. The gold is the
only thing that matters. The other two are so keen on hate screwing
one another that they are right where I want them: distracted and out
of my way.

[Aaaaaaaaaand five.]

I am America's Last, Best Hope for Bright Future and Better Tomorrow.
There is no way Gibson Hayes can, or will, lose tonight. Whitecross be
damned, no Brit will be the decider in this match. When I raise that
world title high in the air, it will not be because Holliday or Marley
did not try their damnedest to stop me. It will not be because
Whitecross tried to screw either of them. It will not be because of
PVW's wishes. It will be inspite of all of those things. Gibson Hayes
will win the the PVW World title. Gibson Hayes will save America. And
Gibson Hayes will save the world.

[Hayes walks off.]

[Scene fades in on the guest referee's locker room currently occupied
by the legendary "Era of Defiance" Gabriel Whitecross. Bedecked all in
black, save for his sleeveless referee's shirt, the 6'4" muscular
warrior of silver tresses is on a vertical base, resting his meaty,
balled-up fists against a steel locker, with his eyes closed - as if
in meditation.  A knock on the door shatters his reverie...compounded
by the fact that it's opened without so much as a by-your-leave by PVW
Champion, and former stablemate of Whitecross's "Widowmaker" Rick
Marley.

The dark haired cruiserweight stands, glaring at Whitecross from the
doorway for a moment, before snorting.]

RM: We need to talk, Whitecross.

[Opening his eyes, Gabriel turns on his heels to face the intruder.
His goateed facade is alight with barely-concealed disdain, and
Whitecross' sarcastic words are riddled with venom.]

GW: Do we now, 'Champion'?

[Whitecross sizes Marley up, with a swift but contemptuous 'up and
down' look. The sarcasm continues unabated.]

GW: It is truly good to see you again ... You seem taller somehow, but
it is definitely not because you have developed any form of a spine,
Marley.

RM: Yeah yeah...I get it.  You don't like me.  Still all up in a huff
that I did what I had to get ahead all the way back in New York.  You
feel like I screwed over the Keenings...your adopted family.

[Marley shrugs.]

RM: It happens.  I did it, and I'd do it again.

GW: Which ably proves just what kind of man you have become.

RM: I did what I had to for me and mine, Whitecross.  I'm not asking
you to understand and I'm sure as hell not begging for your
forgiveness.  I had my reasons for what I did...some of 'em were even
good ones...somebody had to take care of my family.

GW: Methinks Judd would have made a better familial leader than you,
Rick.

RM: Yeah, easy to take the high road and not bother paying attention
to what's happening back home when you're out partying with Baldwin.
Don't buy the honorable schtick from those two for half a
second...they're as bad as I am, they just have better PR, that's all.

If you knew half...

[Marley closes his eyes and holds up his hand]

RM: I'm not here to re-hash our past, Gabe...that's...there no point.
What I'm here for is to make sure things are on the level...I know
you'd love nothing more than to introduce my teeth to the back of my
throat for being a backstabbing bastard...

[In reply to Marley's last statement, a smile of bitterly savage
amusement now paints Whitecross' lips. Gabriel's detractor notices the
unsettling change, but continues regardless.]

RM: And I'd love nothing better than to return the favor to you for
being a pretentious ass...

[Whitecross raises an eyebrow, but his smile wavers a fraction.]

RM: ...but that ain't what this game's about tonight...so...there you
have it.  You want a piece of me, I'm happy to give you the shot...and
you'll get to see that I'm not the guy that pulled a steeple chase on
you back in New York all those years ago.

[Gabriel's scowl returns.]

GW: Worry not, my 'friend'. I was hired to be impartial ; to be the
law without prejudice ... And, as you will soon discover, I shall ably
fulfill the obligation, irrespective of my personal feelings.
A deserving victor there _will_ most certainly be ...

[Marley nods, glaring and steps into Gabe's...chest (he's too short to
reach his face).]

RM: Yeah yeah...slave to duty...you belong in a damned Gilbert and
Sullivan play...but here's the deal, Frederick: I've got one thing to
do tonight: walk out of that ring with the belt still firmly around my
waist.  Anybody gets in the way of that gets knocked down.

Anybody.

We clear?

[Whitecross bores a hole through Marley's upturned face, with his
fiery gaze ... yet his voice is the most controlled it has been,
during the conversation.]

GW: Crystal clear ...

[Marley glares...then nods.]

RM: Then I guess I'll see you in the ring...

[Without another word, he stalks back out. Whitecross watches Rick's
departure. The aforeseen smile of dark intent soon resurfaces. The
Englishman's next utterance isn't much louder than a growled whisper,
but nonetheless the effect is bordering on maniacal.]

GW: Yes, 'Champion' ; see you in the ring ...

[The scene fades to black, with Whitecross' soft laugh rising and
falling accordingly.]

CL: We must be getting close to the Main Event.

FH: Whitecross better not cross the champ.

CL: Whitecross is respected through out the wrestling world.  I don't
think any of the three men have to worry about how he will call the
match.  Before we can get to the World Heavyweight Championship we
have one other championship match first.

HD: Making their way to the ring are the challengers from the
Kevorkian Institute of Painless Medicine in Auburn, New York and
weighing in at a total combined weight of 568 pounds; they are
accompanied to the ring by Yin Melli, Violet Yang and Todd "The Rod"
Johnstone - this is Physicians Advocating Innovative Neoprocedures,
otherwise known as PAIN!

[The audience in attendance being to boo as the motley crew known as
PAIN enters to a very elaborate entrance montage and light show that
is too amazing to write down. The big, burly and bushy Dr. Mal
Practice and the Hollywood Hearthrob Dr. Ohno Ow take in the audience
as if they are given the most welcoming greeting of all time. Todd
Johnstone busies himself yelling at fans while Melli fawns over Ow.
Violet goes over a few things with Mal as the quartet walks down to
the ring.]

MUSIC:

       #When it comes crashing down and it hurts inside..
       #Just give Mal a call and you'll be alright...
       #If you hurt your head and you hurt your spine...
       #Mal will fix it up and it'll all be fine...

[As the crowd continues to ***REACTION***, Dr. Mal Practice and Dr.
Ohno Ow step out onto the entrance ramp, waving and blowing kisses to
the crowd much like your stereotypical politician.]

       (chorus)

       #MAL IS A HU-MAN-I-TARIAN!!
       #Ending the pain of every man!
       #MAL IS A HU-MAN-I-TARIAN!!
       #Doing what's right, to save your life!

[As they make their way down the aisle, Dr. Mal Practice stops to kiss
a baby... but has some trouble doing so as when he tries to pick up
the baby, the mother starts pulling the child away, and slapping at
Dr. Mal with her purse.  Dr. Mal steps back from the woman, slightly
miffed for a moment, then the smile and he continues down the aisle,
with Dr. Ohno Ow
handing out what appear to be business cards to the ringside fans.
Most of the fans take one look at these and toss them on the ground.]

       #Don't let the AMA tell you that he's wrong...
       #Cuz you won't be in pain for very long...
       #Mal knows what is good for you, you see...
       #He'll put you right out of your misery...

[Dr. Mal and Dr. Ow finally reach the ring, as the crowd continues to
boo.  Dr. Mal walks up the ring steps confidently, waving to the
crowd, before he steps through the ring ropes.  Dr. Ow slides under
the ring ropes just after Dr. Mal, and rises to his feet, both slowly
circle the ring waving to the crowd as the music cuts out.]

CL: And it looks like the Doctors are in!

FH: PAIN looks very serious, all joking aside. This team rarely
approaches a match in determined mode but when they do, watch out!

#There I was completely wasting, out of work and down#

["Breaking the Law" by Judas Priest plays, and with no lighting
effects, no fanfare, just the words "Livestock and the Gutch" on the
PVW video screen, a pair of big men in business suits carrying
briefcases emerge from the entrance portal.]

#All inside it's so frustrating as I drift from town to town#
#Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die#

[The Gutch stops just outside the portal and begins doing what can
only be called a "Stupid white man dance".  He calls it "The Gootch
Bartilootch."   Livestock just looks the other way, pretending that he
doesn't have an idiot for a partner.]

#So I might as well begin to put some action in my life#
#Breaking the law, breaking the law!#

HD: Accompanied to the ring by Big Bubba Hayes...

[At this, they begin walking down the aisle.]

#Breaking the law, breaking the law!#

#Breaking the law, breaking the law!#

[Still walking.]

#Breaking the law, breaking the law!#

HD: They weigh in tonight at a combined weight of 675 pounds, these
are your Phoenix Valley Wrestling World Tag Team Champions: LIVESTOCK
and THE GUTCH!

[Aaand they reach the ring.  Saints be praised.]

CL: PAIN and Livestock & The Gutch exploded and reformed all in the
past several months.

FH: Heck, earlier tonight Ohno Ow and Livestock were facing off
against Mal and Gutch.

CL: Indeed they were, Fred! This time around we have a rematch for the
Phoenix Valley Wrestling World Tag Team championship! PAIN, with Todd
"The Rod" Johnstone facing off against Livestock and the Gutch!

FH: But that traitor, Bubba, he's thrown in with that fatty Gutch! How
could Bubba turn on Team Todd?

CL: Don't you mean PAIN?

FH: Yeah, them too!


________    _________________________________________________________
|_   __  | .' ___  |
 | |_ \_|/ .'   \_|          PVW Tag Team Championship Match:
 |  _| _ | |   ____           PAIN v. Livestock and The Gutch
_| |__/ |\ `.___]  |
|________| `._____.'__________________________________________________



*DING*DING*DING*


CL: And there's the bell! Ow and Livestock facing off. Though
Livestock and Ow were recently tag team partners, seemingly getting
along quite well, there looks to be no love lost between them at this
very moment!

FH: What tipped you off? The fact that Ow is currently screaming about
Livestock trying to steal top billing or Livestock rushing towards Ow
like an escaped inmate?

CL: Livestock, indeed, rushes towards Ow but the faster Ow tumbles out
of the way!

FH: Too bad Ow has poor depth perception because he just tumbled into
the turnbuckles.

[As Todd screams at Ohno to get his head in the game, the smaller
doctor shakes the cobwebs out after rolling into the middle
turnbuckle. Livestock runs towards the smaller man and tries to
deliver a boot to the head. Ow, with an uncanny sixth sense, jumps
onto the top turnbuckle and avoids Livestock's boot. Zappa,
unfortunately, becomes quite familiar with the turnbuckle as he
crotches himself. Ow isn't done, though, as he delivers a dropkick to
the kisser of 'stock, sending the large, athletic member of L & D
crashing into the mat.]

CL: Things starting out at a faster pace than expected.

FH: All four men are familiar with one another as partners and know
the strengths and weaknesses of at least one of the opponents.
Livestock knows Ow has depth perception problems, gambling that Ow
would again misjudge the distance in an avoidance maneuver.

CL: And Ow knows that Livestock is more than a bit cocksure and
willing to go for the show off maneuver over a safer, lower impact
blow.

FH: Exactly!

CL: Why haven't you insulted anyone yet?

FH: I... I like everyone involved. Even that Benedict Bubba!

CL: Ow not settling for just staggering the bigger man as he delivers
a forward flipping legdrop to the chest of Livestock. Zappa rolling
out of the ring but Ow is not letting Zappa go that easy.

FH: No, Ow! Don't do it! Let the ladies enjoy Livestock's second
fiddle good looks!

CL: Second fiddle?

FH: Of course! I mean, Ow's the star, after all! I mean, look at
Violet and what's her face, the annoying one!

[Melli, the annoying one, is cheering on Ohno and keeps telling him to
get Livestock. Ohno mugs for the camera, motioning the cameraman to
wait. Despite Violet, Todd and Mal screaming at Ohno not to do what
ever he is thinking about doing, Ow does a picture perfect no hands
vault out of the ring... right over the head of Livestock and into the
fourth row of the capacity crowd.]

CROWD: *HOOTS AND HOLLERS*

CL: And Ow's complete lack of depth perception coming into play yet
again, early in this match.

FH: Is it really that early, Chip? Both of these teams have already
faced one another tonight, albeit in different combinations. This
match is the second one all of these men are having tonight and
neither team is fully rested. They're going to be pulling out all the
stops because one big move can probably end this match pretty fast.

CL: Good points, Fred... what have you done with the real Fred Hoyle?
Don't look now but Livestock is going after Ow, climbing over the ring
railing and looking for the prone body of Ow. Normally this would be a
count out situation but the referee is having to deal with Todd
calling him names and Violet yelling at Melli.

FH: Since when is strangling someone called yelling?

[Livestock finds Ow and grabs a hold of the good bad doctor by the
scruff of the neck. Ow looks worse for wear but he still manages to
react to being picked up by letting loose with a relaxed knuckle blow
to the nose of Livestock. 'stock ignores the pain and rushes back to
the ring, slamming Ow down on the apron. Livestock lifts Ow again and
tosses him into the ring, climbing in after him. The big blond hits Ow
with a knee to the side of the head, gets up, and drops an elbow
across the chest of Ohno, covering for the first pin attempt of the
match!]

ONE!





TWO!!




...Violet Yang pulls out the referee!!!



CL: Referee Alan Squire not taking too kindly to being pulled out
and... he's tossing Violet and Melli!

FH: Squire? Why does that name sound so familiar? Didn't this referee
just work dark matches before?

CL: Squire is a recent hiree. After the restart the referee's union
demanded two new referees to lessen the workload for house shows and
TV tapings. PVW has only hired one new referee, Squire, who comes with
years of experience in the midwest and south, on a half-time basis;
sometimes sharing duties with former PVW feeder federation: HUGE. With
all the matches taking place tonight and the pre-show assignments, PVW
decided to give Squire a chance to officiate this second tag title
match in order not to stretch out the already overworked referees.
Even with Whitecross special guest refereeing!

FH: Why didn't they tell us that before? Something smells fishy, Chip.
I bet those no lying, cheating Max and Sal have something to do with
this new referee!

[Squire fans his nose as Johnstone gets in his face, livid with the
decision to remove 2 more hands from his plans. Meanwhile, Livestock
is grinding his elbow into the chest of Ow. Mal has had enough of this
and starts to enter the ring. Practice manages to kick Livestock in
the head as the Gutch finally figures out how to get his girth through
the ring ropes. Referee Squire turns around to see Mal grabbing the
tag rope and the Gutch wobbling towards Livestock and Ow. Squire
orders Gutch out of the ring as Livestock resumes his assault on Ow.
Pulling Ow to a vertical base, 'stock lifts him up to attempt a
powerbomb but is instead taken down by a hurricanrana counter! Ow
scrambles and rolls forward to make a quick tag to Practice, rolling
out of the ring and into the arms of Todd Johnstone, worse for wear.]

CL: And the big man of PAIN checking in! Ow definitely took some
punishment though; much of it through his own risk taking!

FH: And Todd is there making sure Ow gets some rest and formulating a
new game plan! 'stock and Gutch may have Bubba in their corner but
with Zeke Craven busy elsewhere, it looks like they have no counter to
the devious mind of The Rod! ...say, do you notice Gutch fiddling with
that turnbuckle.

CL: You may be right on both accounts Fred... you are also oddly being
kind this match. Anyhow, in the ring, Mal stomping on Livestock once,
twice, three times a Lionel Ritchie! Mal in control here as he lifts
'stock up and... abdominal stretch! Mal is really cinching that thing
in!

FH: Mal and Ow have a definite technical advantage against L and G;
however Livestock is probably the most in shape man in there or at
least the man with the most stamina.

CL: Seriously, Fred, you're scaring me.

[Mal keeps the stretch applied and Squire is in position, dutifully
asking Zappa if Zappa is giving up. Livestock says something that
makes the referee take on a sour face, but it is obvious 'stock is not
submitting. Mal keeps the hold applied for little while long, then
turns it into a pumphandle suplex! Livestock bounces a little from the
impact. Mal looks to be tiring after only a short time in the ring, as
he wipes his brow. Considering that Mal is pushing his middle 40s, it
is no wonder that Dr. Practice picks up Livestock again and delivers a
devastating uranage, causing another loud impact! As Mal exhales, he
makes his way to his corner, tagging in his partner Ow.]

CL: Dr. Mal, while powerful and well trained, has not been able to
keep father time at bay! Mal's already showing signs of some fatigue
based on his previous match as well as lifting the "smaller" man of
Livestock and the Gutch.

FH: No, Chip, Mal isn't in the best shape any more, but those
maneuvers definitely worked the back of Livestock. If Cow Man can't
go, it falls on the man with much less endurance, Gutch, to carry the
load for L & G.

CL: Exactly! If PAIN can keep going with quick tags, they can rest and
drain Livestock of his energy reserves. Gutch is leaning forward,
trying to get closer to his partner for the tag as Ow runs in!

[Livestock is slowing getting up to his feet, moving towards the
outstretched arm of Gutch, when Ow sweeps the left leg out from
'stock! However, this causes Livestock to fall forward, right to the
hand of Gutch! Gutch is revved up and hurriedly climbs into the ring,
right towards the man who stole his tag team partner! However, before
Gutch can deliver his retribution to the other tag team partner, the
referee steps in front of him, signaling that no tag was made!]

CL: What is going on? From my vantage point it appeared everything was
in order! Gutch made the tag and Squire was there to see it!

FH: Squire is explaining to Gutch that Gutch let go of the tag rope!

CL: I have the replay on one of my monitors, split screen with two
angles, and it appears Squire is right! Gutch let go of the tag rope
just as his fingers touched Zappa's! Very good eye from the newest
referee on PVW's payroll!

FH: It's odd seeing a competent official... I mean, I don't like the
call but I can't fault him for calling this down the middle. Either
team winning is a victory for ole Freddie Hoyle!

CL: I agree with you on enjoying seeing a well called match but I
disagree with the tactics of both these teams. Squire is telling Ow to
go to a neutral corner and wait for Livestock to go back to the center
of the ring. Gutch is angry but he's leaving and 'stock trudges his
way to the center of the ring. Alan Squire motions for Ow to do the
same and Ow takes a running start and flies into the air... and sails
past both Squire and Livestock into the ring ropes!

FH: 'stock taking this opportunity to tag out! The Gutch wobbling his
way into the ring and Bubba is cheering him on from the outside!

[Todd Johnstone gives Bubba a dirty look as Gutch smashes Ow in the
side of the head with an elbow as Ow has tangled himself up in the
ropes. The referee is currently trying to untangle Ow as Gutch decides
to rub his armpit in the face of Ow!]

CL: Ow not taking kindly to smelling the armpit of Gutch!

FH: Hey! The Gutch had his bi-monthly bath... I think.

[The referee starts a five count and at 4 and 9/10ths, Goochie finally
removes his pit from Ow's face. Ow untangles and falls to the mat,
trying to breath but having some trouble after another smell attack!
The Gutch is being admonished by the referee, but Gutch ignores the
pest and goes straight for Ow, picking up the smaller man and bringing
him crashing down with a powerslam! The ring shakes and Gutch lets
loose with a little laugh. Gutch says: "That'll learn ya for trying ta
steal my partner" and picks up Ow again, tossing the martial artist
into the turnbuckles. Gutch charges in and delivers a shoulder
charge/clothlines that rocks Ow. Gutch is winded, though, after
running across the ring, and takes a breather as Ow slumps in the
corner.]

CL: Stamina issues are also a problem for Gutch, maybe even more than
for Dr. Mal. Gutch is sucking wind already.

FH: Well, both Mal and Gutch are barely removed from rehab and major,
career threatening injuries. Neither one is exactly 100% in the
wrestling groove, which also explains why Livestock and Ow are taking
the brunt of this second match for their respective teams.

CL: Fred, please, insult someone, for the love of Mary.

FH: Leave my mistress out of this, Chip!

[As Gutch stands back up, Ow has found his next burst of energy,
delivering a step up enzugiri to the face of Gutch. Ow isn't done yet
and does a spinning legsweep to the bigger man, targeting the leg that
was previously injured. Gutch wobbles back and falls into the
turnbuckles, sitting his large butt on the mat. Ow moves in on Gutch
and delivers palm strike after palm strike to the bigger man before
wondering why Gutch hasn't responded. The question is answered when a
large *FRAPT* sounds is heard and the coughs coming from folks in the
third row. Gutch laughs heartily as everyone else gags.]

CL: Jeez! Egg fart!

FH: ...[TV EDIT]

[Gutch wobbly stands up and shoulder smashes Ow again, Ow who is
currently nearly choking on his own tongue to escape the smell. The
referee is holding his shirt over his nose and trying as best he can
to avoid the horrific chemical compound from Gutch's stomach.
Bartilucci throws Ow into the far corner and gingerly starts to follow
him, picking up some speed and crashing into the turnbuckles, but Todd
pulls Ow out of the way just in the nick of time. Bubba moves over to
warn Todd to keep his "honky nose outta his bidness" but Todd ignores
his wayward bodyguard. The referee admonishes Todd and warns him that
he'll expel him if necessary. Ow takes this opportunity to drive a
leaping knee to the back of Gutch's head, chaining that to a swift
kick to the back of the right knee. Gutch eats turnbuckle again. Ow
takes no chances this time around and goes to his corner, tagging in
Dr. Mal.]

CL: Here we go, the two big men of their respective teams about to
face off.

FH: Combined these two weigh barely... *microphone is cut off*

[As Fred taps his microphone, wondering who cut off his obviously
brilliant joke, Mal has grabbed Bartilucci and hooks his opponent in
an inverted 3/4 nelson, bending him over backwards, then snaps back as
hard as he can, driving Gutch all the way over onto his face! Gutch
convulses a bit and Mal grabs Gutch's legs, into a sharpshooter!]

CL: With Ow working on the previously injured leg, this maneuver could
spell the end for Gutch!

FH: *silence*

CL: If only someone could put you on mute so I don't have to hear your
complaining!

[Gutch pounds the mat with elbows, in obvious pain from PAIN! Referee
Alan Squire is in position, asking if Gutch is throwing in the towel.
Instead of hearing Gutch's response, Squire gets pulled out of the
ring by Bubba! Squire pokes Bubba with a finger, daring him to do
something in order to get tossed. In the ring, Livestock runs in and
delivers a beautiful running bulldog to Mal while Ow has run in and
kicked Gutch in the face, Shaolin Soccer style! 'stock and Ow see one
another and get in fighting stances (Livestock in a traditional boxing
stance and Ow in a relaxed martial arts stance). Livestock throws a
jab, Ow fluidly goes with the punch and responds with a drunken style
straight fist to the kisser of Zappa. Livestock's yelling of "NOT THE
FACE" alert Squire to the goings on in the ring and the referee
quickly scampers into the squared circle to order both illegal men out
of the ring. 'stock tries to wrap his hands around Ow's neck but is
escorted to his corner by Squire. Meanwhile Ow and Practice take this
opportunity to double team!]

CL: Squire's been on top of this match tonight but I think that this
latest bit of double interference has opened up a golden opportunity
for PAIN!

FH: *screaming then, finally, audio*...and that's why I hate the
French!

CL: Mal struggling but managing to get Gutch up... and down with a
side backbreaker. Mal somehow keeping the huge form of Gutch
Bartilucci over his knee! Dr.Ow coming off the ropes wit a vicious
scissor kick to the face of Gutch! Mal grabbing hold of one of Gutch's
wrists crossing over into a cross face submission!

FH: They aren't done yet! Ohno turning and just laying into Gutch's
head with some of the hardest thrust kicks I've ever heard! Todd is
all smiles as he senses the gold is going into his portfolio!

CL: Meanwhile Livestock is livid and is doing his partner no favors by
trying to get in that ring!

FH: BUBBA! Big Bubba has had enough and he charges into the ring,
smacking Mal upside the head with those big fists!

CL: Bubba saving his friend Gutch! Bubba with another fist and
another! Mal let's go of the hold and is wobbly!

FH: Todd is up on the apron and he is livid! Squire finally turning
around and he sees Bubba's butt as the big man tries his hardest to
leave the ring!

CL: Bubba may have just saved the tag titles right there, Fred! And he
may have lost his job with Todd and Gibson as Johnstone has waddled
over to Bubba and is screaming in the man's ear! Bubba shoving
Johnstone! The crowd loving this turn about!

Crowd: BUBBA! MESS HIM UP BUBBA!

FH: Bunch of ungrateful jerks!

[As Bubba and Todd sort things out on the outside, Gutch wanders to
his corner and makes the tag as Mal makes the tag to Ow. Ow goes
straight for Livestock, actually hitting a leaping kick to the chest
of Livestock. 'stock is sent backwards but Zappa moves towards Ow
again. Ow rebounds off the ropes and jumps up... right into the arms
of Livestock. 'stock tosses Ow in the air and meets him with a leaping
shoulder thrust! Zappa holds onto Ow and tosses him onto the mat like
a sack of potatoes, holding onto those legs and starting a giant
swing. The more agile member of L & G throws Ow across the ring, right
back into his corner. Ow has the presence of mind to tag Mal back in
as he crashes into the corner.]

CL: Amazing mental awareness by Ow! PAIN showing better teamwork and
ring awareness.

FH: Obviously the Johnstone influence; that man is a genius!

CL: I see Fred Hoyle has found his way to the announce booth.

FH: Quiet, you! Just because I know about wrestling and can find the
good in wrestlers doesn't mean I have to take such guff from you, you
fairweather fan!

[Livestock is set to rebound off the ropes and shoulder blocks Mal!
Livestock grabs hold of Mal and lifts up the large doctor, hitting a
fisherman's buster. Another pinfall attempt!]

ONE!




TWO!!






KICKOUT!

CL: Livestock seems to have tweaked something with that move.

FH: That explains the tag out to Gutch!

[As Mal tries to recover, Gutch does a his stupid little dance.
Bartilucci hops from one foot to the other while standing bowlegged,
and frantically slapping both his thighs. The Gutch also tries to
grasp the air above his head and he repeats the slapping and grabbing
several times. Oddly enough, Gutch's head doesn't move, at all. It's
really, really weird.]

FH: And Toddy J. is livid! He's screaming at Mal to take advantage of
this lapse in judgement by the Gutch!

CL: Mal getting up but he seems to really feeling the effects of the
short rest time and fisherman's buster.

[Gutch stops his silly dance and moves back to the ropes, getting
ready to rebound off for extra momentum when a giant pair of flabby
hands grabs hold of him.]

CL: Bubba! Bubba has grabbed The Gutch...

FH: Wait... what the hell?!

CL: Livestock has Squire distracted with a complaint about a
turnbuckle that Goochie must have been fiddling with earlier!

FH: I knew that had to have been done for a reason!

CL: Squire trying to fix the turnbuckle as Bubba holds The Gutch! Todd
on the apron as well with that damned cane of his too! Mal really
liking this turn of events and Dr. Mal taking the time to yell at the
larger half of the tag champions!

Dr. Mal: You AMA lackeys never stop trying to ruin the Institute!
Well, you've failed!

[Mal screaming right in the face of the Gutch! Johnstone raises his
cane, causing the audience to become livid and raise their collective
voice to earth shattering level. Todd starts to bring down the
cane...]

CL: No, no, this isn't right!

FH: All's fair, Chippy, as long as the referee don't see it.

[...across the head of Dr. Mal Practice.]

CL & FH: WHAT THE HELL?!

[Indeed, Mal has a semi-shocked look on his face just before he falls
straight backwards. Livestock rushes past the referee as he goes
straight for Ow. Ow is completely baffled at this turn of events.
Squire completely ignores Livestock and goes straight into a pin
counting position as Gutch has moved into a pinning position over Mal.
Bubba and Todd have moved off the ring apron and Todd checks his thick
black cane for damage.]

CL: COVER!


ONETWOTHREE!!!



CL: What the hell kind of count was that?! Livestock hammering Ow and
preventing the mystified doctor from helping his partner! Bubba and
Todd celebrating outside the ring! What kind of crap is this?! That
was no regulation count!


FH: TODD JOHNSTONE IS A GENIUS!


HD: The winners of the match, and PVW Tag Team Champions...
LIVESTOCK AND THE GUTCH!

[Livestock and the Gutch hug in the center of the ring and are joined
by Todd Johnstone and Big Bubba Hayes. Todd nods towards Alan Squire
and the referee slightly nods his head, while the faithful in
attendance showering the quartet with hate. Ow rushes to Mal's side as
the good bad doctor is bleeding from the head. Ow stares daggers at
Todd Johnstone but tends to his fallen friend first.]

CL: Johnstone sold out PAIN~! That snake! He left them high and dry,
siding with Livestock and the Gutch and insuring that the champions
remained so.

FH: Toddy J said business was picking up and he was right! First the
tag champions and then the world champion! It's gonna happen Chip,
watch!

CL: Unbelievable. What a disgusting group of individuals.  It looks
like once again that Livestock and The Gutch will be the PVW tag team
champions and under the tutoring of Todd Johnstone.

FH: Zeke was good and all.  But Todd is a genius!

CL: Folks we are nearly done with the night.  With just one match
remaining it's that time to run our promo for our  next big PPV.

[We cut to a pitch black room.]

V/O: A change is on the horizon ...

[Flash backs of great moments in PVW history.]

V/O: The warriors of yesterday no longer have the power.

[The dimmed light becomes clear and we have the present day highlights
with the new blood in the PVW.]

V/O: The Phoenix has risen ...

The game has ended ...

Dreams have become destiny ...

What you think you know ... You really don't.

And it has all brought us to _BOILING POINT_!

[We fade to the PVW, Boiling Point logo.  Underneath it says -
SEPTEMBER 2011!]

[The lights in the arena suddenly go dark.  A beam of light focuses on
the entrance to the arena.]

##Everybody put three fingers in the air
The sky is falling, the wind is calling
Stand for something or die in the morning
Section 80, Hiii Power##

["Hiii Power" by Kendrick Lamar" begins to blare throughout the
arena.]

CL:  What is this?  I don't have this on our schedule.

FH:  We definitely haven't heard this before.

[A figure steps out of the curtain as the crowd begins to stir in
anticipation.  The figure has a hood over his head of sorts and his
face is unseen.  The man begins to sway slightly back and forth to the
song.]

##Visions of Martin Luther staring at me
Malcolm X put a hex on my future, someone catch me
I'm falling victim to a revolutionary song
The Serengeti's clone
Back to put you backstabbers back on your spinal bone
You slit your diss when I slid you my disc
You wanted to diss but jumped on my dick
Grown men, never should bite their tongue
Eating pussy that smell like a stale plum
I got my finger on the motherfuckin' pistol
Aiming it at a pig, Charlotte's web is going to miss you##

[The murmur of the crowd continues to get louder as the man takes a
few steps closer to the walkway.]

CL:  You can absolutely feel the intensity here right now.  Who the
hell is this?

FH:  What did you expect?  THIS is PVW.  Simply put, we make things
happen.

[The song continues to play as he slowly walks down the aisleway.]

##My issue isn't televised and you ain't gotta tell the wise
How to sound beat, cause my life's an instrumental
This is physical and mental, I won't sugar coat it
You'd die from diabetes if these other niggas wrote it
And everything on TV just a figment of imagination
I don't want ?, dread that like a Haitian
While you motherfuckers waiting, I be off the slave ship
Building pyramids, writing my own hieroglyphs##

[The unidentified man raises his fist in the air as the chorus begins
to blare throughout the arena.]

##Just call the shit Hiii Power
Nigga nothing less than Hiii Power
Five-star dishes, food for thought bitches
I mean the shit is
Huey Newton going stupid, you can't resist his Hii Power
Throw your hands up for Hiii Power##

[The man lifts up his head.  As he looks up, the hood falls off of his
head to reveal his identity.]

##SHOCKING POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!##

CL:  SAMMY KNIGHT!!!!  SAMMY KNIGHT!!!!  HERE IN PHOENIX VALLEY
WRESTLING!!!!!

##ABSOLUTELY DEAFENING FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!##

[Knight humbly smiles as he takes in the crowd's response.]

FH:  HOW IN THE HELL DID WE KEEP THIS UNDER WRAPS?

CL:  BEATS THE HELL OUT OF ME!  I CAN'T EVEN HEAR MYSELF THINK RIGHT
NOW!

FH:  COMPTON IS DEFINITELY IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT FOLKS!!!!  JUST LISTEN
TO THE WELCOMING THESE FANS ARE GIVING HIM!!!!

[Knight continues to walk towards the ring, taking a moment to
interact with the fans along the way.]

##Visions of Martin Luther staring at me
If I see it how he seen it, that would make my parents happy
Sorry mama, I can't turn the other cheek
They wanna knock me off the edge like a fucking widow's peak (Uhh!)
And she always told me pray for the weak (Uhh!)
Them demons got me, I ain't prayed in some weeks (Uhh!)
Dear Lord come save me, the devil's working hard
He probly clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs
Frightening, so fucking frightening
Enough to drive a man insane, I need a license##

[Knight reaches the stairs and climbs into the ring.  He looks out at
the fans and nods his head again.]

##To kill. I'm standing on the field full of land mines
Doing the moonwalk, hoping I blow up in time
Cause 2012 might not be a fucking legend
Trying to be a fucking legend
The man of mankind
Who say a black man in the Illuminati
Last time I check, that was the biggest racist party
So get up off that slave ship
Build your own pyramids, write your own hieroglyphs##

[Looking better than ever, he has grown out his hair and cornrows are
intricately braided down his head.  He holds up his fist once again.]

##ABSOLUTE EXPLOSIVE FACE POP##

CL:  I can't remember the last time I've heard a welcome like this.
This is absolutely amazing.

FH:  These fans are clearly pleased!

CL:  Why wouldn't they be?  This man's talent, character and accolades
speak for themselves.  We are blessed to have Sammy Knight here in
Phoenix!

##Just call the shit Hiii Power
Nigga nothing less than Hiii Power
Five-star dishes, food for thought bitches
I mean the shit is
Bobby Seale making meals, you can't resist his Hiii Power
Throw your hands up for Hiii Power##

[Knight walks over and climbs a set of turnbuckles.  He pounds his
chest twice and points to the crowd.]

##SHATTERING FACE POP##

##Every day we fight the system
Just to make our way
We been down for too long
But that's alright
We was built to be strong
Cause it's our life, na na na
Every day we fight the system
We fight the system
We fight the system
(Kendrick Lamar) Never like the system
We been down for too long
But that's alright, na na na##

[Knight jumps down from the turnbuckle and walks diagonally to the
next one.  He quickly climbs it and points to the crowd.]

##HUMONGOUS FACE POP!!!!!#

##Who say a black man in the Illuminati
Last time I check, that was the biggest racist party
Last time I check, we was racing with Marcus Garvey
On the freeway to Africa, till I wreck my Audi
And I want everybody to view my autopsy
So you can see exactly where the government had shot me
No conspiracy, my fate is inevitable
They play musical chairs once I'm on that pedestal
Frightening, so fucking frightening
Enough to drive a man insane, a woman insane
The reason Lauryn Hill don't sing, or Kurt Cobain
Loaded that clip and then said "Bang!"##

[Knight jumps down again and looks around at the fans.  Another humble
smile.]

##The drama it bring is crazy
Product of the late 80s
Trying to stay above water, that's why we shun the navy
Pull your guns and play me
Let's set it off
Cause a riot, throw a Molotov
Somebody told me them pirates had got lost
Cause we been off them slave ships
Got out own pyramids, write our own hieroglyphs##

CL:  Sammy Knight.  I never thought I'd mention that name on air.

FH:  I know.  You don't have to tell me.  Actually, the hell with what
we think.  We don't have to tell these fans a damn thing.  They
already know!

CL:  I don't think there's a single soul in their seat right now.

[Knight stands and raises his hand again.]

##ANOTHER MONSTROUS FACE POP!!!!!!!##

##Just call the shit Hiii Power
Yeah nothing less than Hiii Power
Five-star dishes, food for thought bitches
I mean the shit is
Fred Hampton on your campus, you can't resist his Hiii Power
Throw your hands up for Hiii Power##

[Knight signals for a microphone.  A ringside attendant tosses him
one.  Knight slowly begins to speak into the mic.]

Knight:  Damn. It's been a long ass time.

CL:  It certainly has.

Knight:  Way too long.

[The crowd continues to stand on their feet, Knight's voice is barely
audible over the tremendous support from the fans.]

Knight:  But I'm back. And it feels good. It feels right. And even if
this may be a new home, it matters not because nevertheless it's now
MY home.

CL:  And by the sound of these fans, we're certainly happy to have him
in the house!

[Knight pauses.  It's obvious that his words are carefully chosen.]

Knight:  It's been almost 20 months since I've stepped foot in a ring.
20 long months that have allowed me to be a better father to my son, a
better provider for my city, and overall just a better person.

CL:  Sammy Knight is synonymous with integrity.  That much has been
made clear.

Knight:  Some may say that I walked away from this industry.  I beg to
differ.  I wasn't walking away from shit.  I was walking towards
something bigger than my career.  Bigger than sports entertainment.
Bigger than me.  I didn't throw away anything.  Some may call it
quitting.

[Knight shakes his head in obvious disagreement.]

Knight:  I call it winning.

And unlike Charlie Sheen's crazy ass, my type of winning will make a
difference in the lives of others.

[Again, sincerity is painted across the former champion's face.]

Knight:  In my time away I gained perspective.  A perspective that
will allow me to be better. Bolder. Badder.

FH:  That's a tall order.  This man has already achieved so much.  And
to be honest, he's pretty damn bad as is.

[Knight looks out once again, almost in awe of the fans who are still
on their feet.]

Knight:  To my amazing fans I continue to be humbled.

[More cheers.]

Knight:   In this moment of time where celebrities are selfish and
fans become jaded, you gave me space.

You gave me time.

You gave me nothing but love.

You allowed me to do the tasks that I was called to do; to continue on
my mission of healing the 'hood that I love so very much.

And I love YOU for that.

CL:  You can say a lot of things about Sammy Knight, but one thing you
simply cannot ever say is that he doesn't respect his fans.  He adores
them.

FH:  And not only that, but if you've ever watched him compete, he
FEEDS off of them.  And that's one reason that he's such a dangerous
individual.  His fans give him A LOT of food.

[HUGE CROWD POP!!!!!]

Knight:  And while I do understand those that disagree or didn't
understand my decision, it was something that was necessary.

And timely.

For me.

[Knight pauses.  Once again carefully collecting his thoughts.]

Knight:  And I will not apologize or regret my time away from this
amazing sport.

I will not apologize or regret giving up that status of fame and a
high level of comfort.

[Once again Knight shakes his head.]

FH:  Always one to be strait forward.

Knight:  But I've heard the gossip. The snickering. The jealousy. The
rumors.

CL:  And there's been a lot.

Knight:  I've seen the shots fired in my direction. And whether
they've been from my previous colleagues or my soon-to-be new
colleagues or hell, even ignorant bystanders who know nothing about
me.

I've felt them.

[The aggression in his voice begins to pick up, as does the pace of
his words.]

Knight:  I know the shooters.

And your attempts at ridicule and doubt have fallen short. And in time
we will see who laughs last.

[Beat.]

Knight:  But DO NOT take my silence for granted.

Ever.

DO NOT let my non-response fool you.

Because your time will come. One way or another.  Believe you me.

FH:  Definitely the wrong dude to cross.  Have you seen his rap sheet?

[Knight pauses for a moment, taking a moment to re-gather his thoughts
and paces slowly back and forth.]

Knight:  PVW?

[HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!]

Knight:  I'm happy to be here. And whether you know me or don't, love
me or hate me, respect me or ridicule me, I am here.

In YOUR promotion.

In YOUR company.

In YOUR locker room.

And I'm about to get hella comfortable.

[Knight lets out a small smirk.]

Knight:  And I really don't care about what you know, think you know,
or don't know about Sammy Knight.

I'm not going to sit here and bore you with what I've done.  Who've
I've beaten.  What accolades I've won.

CL:  We'd be here awhile!

Knight:  Because all of that don't mean a God-damned thing.  Not to
me.  And certainly not to you.  I know this much about many of you:
it ain't about where you're from, but where you're at.  And that is
HERE.

NOW.

[Pause.]

Knight:  All you really need to know is that I'm a survivor.

[Knight holds up his hand.]

Knight:  Abuse.

[His pointer finger extends outward.]

Knight:  Abandonment.

[Followed by the middle.]

Knight:  Incarceration.

[Then ring.]

Knight:  Gunshots.

[Pinky.]

Knight:  Should I go on?

[Beat.]

Knight:  What do any of you have on those?

NOTHING.

So fuck what you've heard. And fuck what I've accomplished. This is
about the now. And the immediate future.

And that future will undeniably involve ME.

[The crowd pops once again...cheering Knight loudly...until the arena
lights abruptly cut out.  The crowd sits in darkness,
muttering...]

FH: During a PPV we find out somebody didn't pay the electric bill?
Are you KIDDING me?

CL: Something odd's going on here...

FH: The Willinghams are a bunch of cheapskates.  What's so odd about
that?

[From the PA system a faint sound...slowly growing louder begins to
build...]

ThaThump...

ThaTHUMP

Thump Thump...

Voice: Do you fear the Dark?

[The crowd erupts, surging to their feet as the familiar question
heralds the arrival of...]

CL: OH MY GOD!

FH: Knight had better run, Chip...God only knows what Spectre's gonna
do after being gone for so long!

[A single crimson spotlight shines down on the entryway as the
familiar form of the dreadlocked madman The Spectre
strides from the back.  The red light lends a gruesome hue to his pale
skin as his dreadlocks fall in front of his face. Wearing
his familiar black trench coat, black jean shorts, black t shirt and
Doc Marten combat boots, The Spectre pauses briefly before
stalking down to the ring and climbing inside.]

Spectre: What did we have on those, you ask?

Simple, little Samuel...we're far, FAR worse...perhaps you've hear of
us...seen our work?

No matter, really.  We've finally been granted leave to re-enter the
arena in the place we've brought more baptisms in pain than any
other...the place where the Rebirth, not seen for this past year,
still strikes fear into the hearts of the bravest of men.

In short, little Samuel...we've come HOME.

[Odd mixed pop from the crowd.]

Spectre: And what should we find in our home, but  Knight in shining
armor, waiting to give the people hope...wanting to show them that
they can win should they put their minds, bodies and souls into it.

No no, little Samuel...this we cannot allow.

You see: WE'RE here to show them what happens when The Beast is
unleashed.  We will leave a trail of broken bodies behind us the likes
of which this sport has never seen.  No longer will we discriminate.
No longer will the reactions of anyone sway our impulses: Anyone is
fair game.

[Spectre pauses, an evil smile spreading on his face.]

Spectre: Would YOU like to play, little Samuel?

[Knight stares back at the otherwise menacing figure.  He takes a
couple of steps towards him.]

Knight:  A light switch?

[Beat.]

Knight:  And hyperbole of past actions?

[He shakes his head.]

Knight:  And you expect a nigga like me to run and tuck my tail?

Please.

[Knights face is filled with sarcasm.]

Knight:  I don't really care who exactly you are. Or what exactly
you've done. That was then. That was them. This is NOW. And this is
ME.

And little Samuel, ain't never been scared.

Not once.  And you should know that. You really should.

[Knight ducks and exits the ring; taking a few strides up the aisleway
towards Spectre.]

Knight:  But let me ask you a question.

[Beat.]

Knight:  Have you ever stood face to face with someone who has taken
another persons life?

Have you?  Honestly.

Because that's exactly what you're looking at now. You may have hurt
for a living. But I hurt to survive.

And it ain't pretty. Not at all.

But if you wanna dance homie, we can play the music.

It ain't nothing.

[Knight holds his arms out; welcoming Spectre to attack him...and the
goth madman seems more than willing to oblige as
he starts stalking towards Knight.]

Spectre: Your suffering will be legendary, would-be hero...

THUMP.

[Spectre drops the mic and charges...only to have arena security dog
pile both him and Knight, separating them both
forcibly as neither man is willing to back down.]


LET THEM FIGHT!!!   LET THEM FIGHT!!!   LET THEM FIGHT!!!


LET THEM FIGHT!!!   LET THEM FIGHT!!!   LET THEM FIGHT!!!


LET THEM FIGHT!!!   LET THEM FIGHT!!!   LET THEM FIGHT!!!



FH: Knight just signed his death warrant, Lester!

CL: Sammy Knight backs down from no man...not even someone like The
Spectre...all hell's broken loose down here as these two competitors
are trying to get at each other to tear each
other limb from limb!

FH: Let 'em go!  The fans would like to see Knight bleed!

CL: What about Spectre?

FH: I'm pretty sure he wants to see EVERYONE bleed...

CL: We need to take a break while we get this sorted out.

[The camera's continue to pick up dozens of security guards down the
aisle way as Knight and Spectre are ready to go at it right here
_tonight_ at End Game.  The fans continue to chant "LET THEM FIGHT" as
Sammy Knight welcomes the request.  The camera finalizes on the
shocking return of the man the wrestling world has dubbed, "the
Devil".  A wicked smile sits across the face of the goth madman.  Is
it because he has played Sammy Knight's emotions?  Or is it simply
because he is finally _home_.  We cut backstage.

Dean Hayes is standing in front of that damned PVW backdrop with a
ring ready Gibson Hayes (with a baby blue cloak covering everything
but his head) and Todd "The Rod" Johnstone (same as before).]

DH: I'm here with...

[Todd shushes Dean.]

TJ: Shut up, you botched horse abortion. In just minutes, the Great
American Hero, the Last American Hope, Mr. Tradition, Mr. PVW, the
Golden Child: Gibson Hayes, steps into that ring the uncrowned
champion and steps out the man atop the golden mountain. So shut your
trap and listen. Gibby..

[Hayes chuckles and pats Dean on the shoulder.]

GH: Thanks for that humble introduction, Todd. Yes, in just moments,
I, Gibson Hayes, step into that PVW ring one belt shy of the Triple
Crown. Some folks want a grand slam, heck, I wouldn't mind being a tag
champion either, but that's not where I'm at and the nation needs me
atop the solo heap more than anything else. Dare to dream the big
dream, I say. There's just one problem with that aspiration, one
reason they'll never reach that lofty goal.

[Serious Gibson.]

GH: Why, you ask? Because that world title belt is not leaving my
waist once it is strapped on. You've already seen, earlier this
evening, what the Rod can do. You've seen what my new partners can do.
Now you'll see what the Standard is capable of. You've got PVW's first
rounder ready to take what is rightfully his. Marley and Holliday,
they're good but they're not good enough to stand in the way of
destiny. If you're a betting man, bet on Gibson because tonight, red
is as good as gold.

[Hayes walks off and Todd Johnstone pushes the microphone in Dean's
chest as he waddles to join his money making machine.]

HD: It's now time ladies and gentleman for our _MAIN EVENT_!!!


[ROARING HOME TOWN MAIN EVENT LOVE POP DRO STYLE!]


... The PVW _WORLD_ Heavyweight Championship will be on the line.


[THE TOP BELT IN OUR INDUSTRY POP!]


... This match will be scheduled for one fall.

[Suddenly, a venomous wash of guitar feedback emerges from the state-
of-the-art PA system, which then suddenly mutates into Nuclear
Assault's hateful musical creation that is named "Something Wicked".

With the crowd now rising quickly to their collective feet and
cheering at the top of their voices, a very familiar, heavily muscled
6' 4" athlete stands at the top of the aisle, with hands on hips. He
hold this stance for a few seconds more, before stepping forward into
the fray with a sense of purpose that is obvious to all... This
athlete can be only one man... He is ... Gabriel Whitecross.

The tattooed and goateed warrior is bedecked in a sleeveless PVW
referee shirt, while black denim jeans and boots of the same shade
adorn his lower extremities. A metallic, white legbrace hugs the lines
of his right knee, and his fingers are heavily swathed in cream
coloured insulation tape. Thick black leather supports also encircle
his wrists to the point just below his elbow.

Allowing himself a thankful smile at the favourable reception afforded
to him, Gabriel pulls back his long, grey shoulder length locks and
efficiently ties it into a tight ponytail, as he rapidly approaches
the ring apron. Without hesitation, he slides expertly under the
bottom rope and stalks his way to the very centre of the canvas, where
he raises a solitary fist to the skies to officially announce his
arrival, and to show acceptance and appreciation of the fans' support.
The music fades away.]

CL: And here comes the legend ... Our special guest referee for the
night, Gabriel Whitecross.

FH: This guy better call things _RIGHT_ down the line.  Holliday
already has the "home town" crowd on his side.  He doesn't need any
favorable officiating.

CL: Whitecross and Holliday have had their issues in the past.  You
can also bet that the Championship committee wouldn't have appointed a
referee that could be swayed in any fashion after what has went down
the past few months.

FH: I will be watching him with both eyes and you can bet Todd
Johnstone will be too!

CL: I am sure Whitecross is well aware that there will be _many_ sets
of eyes on the Defiance of an Era.

FH: Good.

[And we are starting off with a ruckus. The audience instinctively
reacts to the opening of Eliot Lipp's "Rap Tight"...]

GIBSON SUCKS - GIBSON SUCKS - GIBSON SUCKS

GIBSON SUCKS - GIBSON SUCKS - GIBSON SUCKS

GIBSON SUCKS - GIBSON SUCKS - GIBSON SUCKS

[...and Herk Douglas begins introducing the ugly American.]


HD: INTRODUCING THE FIRST CHALLENGER! ACCOMPANIED TO THE RING BY HIS
MANAGER... TODD "THE ROD" JOHNSTONE!

[BOO!]

HD: AND HE REPRESENTS... FROM TUSCALOOSA, ALABAMA... WEIGHING IN AT
TWO-HUNDRED TWENTY THREE POUNDS...


    ...HE IS THE ONLY DOUBLE CHAMPION IN PHOENIX VALLEY WRESTLING
    HISTORY...


[BOOOOO!]


        ...HE IS THE LONGEST REIGNING CHAMPION IN PHOENIX VALLEY
        WRESTLING HISTORY...


[BOOOOOOOO!]


	   ...HE IS THE ORIGINAL PVW NETWORK/TELEVISION TITLE
	   CHAMPION...

[BOOOOOOOOOOO!]

            ...HE IS THE LAST RISING PHOENIX HERITAGE CHAMPION...


[BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! and a few Chris Hartt chants rise up to everyone's
surprise!]


	     ...HE IS THE ORIGINAL PVW AMERICAN HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE
	     CHAMPION


[BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! AND HISS!]


              ...HE IS AMERICA'S LAST, BEST HOPE FOR A BRIGHT AND
              BETTER TOMORROW...


[SERIOUSLYWHOWROTETHISCRAPBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!]


                ...HE IS GIBSON HAYES!


[CATACLYSMICHATEBURNINGWITHANINTENSITYNOTUNLIKETHEKINDTHEYSHOWONTUCKSM
EDICATEDPADCOMMERCIALSPOP!]

FH: Listen to that resume, Chip!  What a great American!  I bet Toby
Keith is sitting at home writing a song about this man right now.

CL: I don't mean to take anything away from Gibson Hayes, but he
backed into this match.  Matthew Lee Holliday was the crowned number
one contender by beating Alex Martinez.  Never-the-less here we are.

FH: Why do you hate America, Chip?

CL: What?  I ... OF COURSE I Don't!

FH: Then stand up and salute a true American hero.

[The :41 second mark hits and an explosion of red, white and blue
pyrotechnics explode. Standing at the entrance ramp are Todd "The Rod"
Johnstone, Warren "Big Bubba" Hayes, Evelyn Prosser and "America's
Last, Best Hope for a Bright Future and Better Tomorrow" Gibson "Red"
Hayes.]

CL: I really hate how smug Gibson is after all the dirty crap he's
pulled.

FH: He's willing to anything and everything to get what he wants Chip.
That's the foundation of America; that's why Gibson Hayes is truly our
last, best hope for a bright future and better tomorrow.

CL: What about Rick Marley?

FH: I like Rick too! No matter what happens, I come out a winner!
Holliday will be destroyed and either Gibson or Rick have the world
title! Everything is coming up Milhouse!

[Todd is wearing a horrible combination of brown, orange and neon
green while Bubba is wearing his usual mocha suit with the sleeves
ripped off. Prosser is dressed up in his Saint Etienne kit but with
the addition of a bow tie around his neck. The quartet make their way
down to the ring, casing the joint for avenues of escape, opportunity
and chicanery.]

CL: One thing is certain: Gabriel Whitecross will not put up with
anything Gibson does here tonight.

FH: Santa Cross? He's old, fat and probably on drugs.

CL: He's older, yes, but the other two are nowhere near true.

FH: Says who? I have the facts right here, on a handy dandy Gibson
Hayes tells the truth about Santa Claus pamphlet!

[Wearing a baby blue cloak, Gibson's eyes are obscured. The man of
mixed heritage climbs up the ring steps and wipes his feet on the
apron before going into the ring. Gibson takes off his cloak,
revealing long black and red tights with red elbow and knee pads and
black kickboxing pads. Hayes dismisses the camera that is on him with
a flick of his wrist and leans back in his corner, listening to Todd
Johnstone giving him advice.]

CL: Hayes looks to be not fully focused on this match.

FH: Gibson was robbed of being the true #1 contender on paper so of
course he's mad. He beat Holliday not once, but twice! How many men in
this sport can say they even gave Holliday a run for his money? Gibson
proved he's the better man and he shouldn't have to share his title
shot with anyone!

CL: Fred, Gibson needed the help of 5 other men in addition to a
biased official to beat Holliday the first time and the second time
Gibson was, himself, pinned. Hayes has yet to beat Holliday...

FH: Who has the pinfall? Who had their arm raised? 'nuff said!

[The eerie harmonica opening to Enrico Morricone's "Man With A
Harmonica" from "Once
Upon A Time In The West" strains from the PA, as the lights dim.  PVW
and Holliday's home town crowd raise to their feet and unload in
cheers.]

CL: And here you have it, Fred!  Listen to these fans they _love_
Holliday!

FH: I can't wait to get out of Arizona.  These fans just eat out of
Holliday's palm.  It's just sickening.  These people are obviously not
_true_ Americans.

[As the foreboding music echoes in the background, Matthew Lee
Holliday emerges from the back.  He is wearing a tailor-made
old-style suit of a cut and style popular in the late 1800's; a black
jacket with white silk ruffled undershirt, a gold undervest, and long
black pants.  He also wears a black hat, from which his long wavy
light-brown hair dips to just below shoulder level.  A gold chain
can be seen dangling from his suit jacket.  Holliday moves with a mild
limp, and uses a mahogany hand-carved walking stick to assist him on
the way down the aisle.  He seems to be carrying a grim expression on
his angular, clean-shaven face.

As the fans continue to go nuts, Holliday arrives at ringside, and
slowly heads around the ring.  The music grows more intense, as
Holliday heads up the steps, scanning the ring area for threats in a
level, unhurried manner.  He steps between the ropes, and calmly heads
to the middle of the ring.  Gabriel Whitecross intercedes, as Holliday
is still brandishing his walking stick.  He raises the stick in the
air as the Voice gives the introduction:]


HD: INTRODUCING, FROM TOMBSTONE, ARIZONA... WEIGHING IN AT TWO-HUNDRED
AND THIRTY-TWO POUNDS...


         ...M A T T E W   L E E   H O L L I D A Y  !  !


[The crowd begins a "DOC"  "DOC"  "DOC" chant.  Holliday backs towards
his corner, and begins the disrobing process as the music dies down.
This reveals his full-length black-and-gold trunks... black with gold
outlines of various symbols of the gambler's trade on it... dice,
cards, roulette wheels, etc.  He wears black-and-gold wrestling boots,
and standard white wrist-tape as well.]

CL: And Johnstone is running his mouth already.

FH: He is just trying to tell Holliday to save us all the time and
return to the back and let the real PVW number one contender fight it
out.

CL: Both Gibson and Doc have that chance tonight.

FH: You mean, _Matthew Lee_.

CL: He will always be Doc to these fans.

FH: They can chant Doc all they want.  They are just showing their
support to Gibson Hayes when they do.

CL: I think everyone in this arena, including Gibson Hayes knows those
chants are for Holliday.

[Whitecross stands in-between both sides.  Johnstone is already
telling the special guest referee to watch "that cheating Holliday".
And Matthew Lee Holliday just smiles not denying a thing.  Whitecross
stands unintimidated as everyone awaits the announcement of the
champion.]

CL: Whitecross is going to have his hands full tonight.

FH: As long as he calls things down the line we will be fine.  No
cheating for Holliday!

[As the two challengers and Whitecross stand in the ring waiting, the
lights dim...and the whispered Lord's Prayer fills the arena before
Marley's voice speaks:]

#Father, forgive me for the wrongs that I have done...

#and those I am about to do.

[Lights flare to life as fireworks pop on either side of the entryway
as the PVW champ stalks out of the back, his face serious as he stares
into the ring, the belt held loosely in one hand.]

HD: And their opponent ... He is the PVW _WORLD_ Heavyweight Champion.

... The lone Widowmaker ...

... RICK MARLEY !!!

[Once he's 20 feet from the ring, the dark haired cruiserweight breaks
into a sprint, tossing the belt to the time keeper and sliding under
the bottom rope and charging at Holliday before the bell...]


 _____________________________________________________________________
|_   __  | .' ___  |
  | |_ \_|/ .'   \_|   PVW World Heavyweight Championship Match:
  |  _| _ | |   ____     Gibson Hayes v. Matthew Lee Holliday v.
 _| |__/ |\ `.___]  |               Rick Marley [c]
|________| `._____.'__________________________________________________



*DING*DING*DING*


[The bell sounds as Holliday is the first on the offense grabbing the
PVW World Heavyweight Champion and firing off right hands. Holliday
whips him across the ropes but Marley reverses.]

CL: Holliday went right for the PVW World Heavyweight Champion and
Marley drops down!

[... and Matthew Lee Holliday jumps over him right into a spinning
clothesline by Gibson Hayes.]

FH: I love how the _real_ number one contender sat and waited
patiently and struck at the perfect time.  That's really champion
material right there.

CL: Marley isn't wasting any time.  He knows that it's going to take
beating _both_ men to defend his championship gold.  He is unloading
with rights and lefts right into Gibson Hayes, backing him up into the
ropes.

[Marley whips Hayes off the ropes as Matthew Lee Holliday pulls
himself up. The American hero takes a double back body drop from
_both_ of his opponents!]


[WHOA MARLEY AND HOLLIDAY DOUBLE SPOT!]


CL: Holliday and Marley with that double back body drop, but it you
can tell it was far from planned.  Holliday headed towards Hayes, but
Marley grabs him by the hair and slams the back of his head into the
mat.

FH: Holliday isn't the only one who has something to prove out there
tonight, Chip.

CL: And now Rick Marley is just stomping away at Matthew Lee Holliday!


THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!


[Rick Marley yanks his one time mentor up and just _tosses_ him
through the ropes and to the outside to a chorus of boo's.   Marley
then turns around and into a scoop slam by Gibson Hayes, flowing into
a knee drop to the champion's face, and then an elbow drop to the
chest.]

CL: Gibson Hayes now taking it to the champion, but Holliday is right
back inside the ring and SPINS Hayes around and unloads with right
hands!

FH: Illegal fists!  Of course Gabriel Whitecross is just standing back
allowing this great injustice.

CL: It's the main event for End Game, Fred.

FH: Only a Brit like Whitecross would allow such things against
America!

[Holliday sends Hayes off the ropes and takes him down to the mat with
a hip toss. Holliday calls for Hayes to get back up and back his words
up.  However Hayes rolled out of the ring and pointed at Marley
telling them to fight.]

CL: It appears Hayes wants no part of Matthew Lee Holliday.

FH: He already defeated Holliday _twice_.  It's time for Rick Marley
to prove that he can.

[Holliday looks down at Rick Marley who is pulling himself to his feet
and then approaches the ropes only for Marley to grab him by the foot
and trip him. Marley rolls Holliday onto his back and pins him with a
prawn pin.  Whitecross slides down for the cover for the first time of
the night!]




!!! ONE !!!




CL: Hayes sliding right back into the ring.

[Which is what Marley wanted. The PVW World Heavyweight Champion
breaks the pin and ducks the right hand attempt by Hayes, laying him
out with a sleeper slam.]


"___THUUUUD___"


FH: Smart thinking by our Champion.  Now we can see two true worthy
men fight it out for the title.

CL: Marley has some words for Whitecross who just ignores the champion
refusing to stoop down to his level.

FH: Well if Whitecross would do his job!

[Marley lifts Hayes back to his feet and onto his shoulders and then
throws him off across his knee with a gutbuster. Marley turns around
and gets attacked by Holliday, driven into the corner with right
hands. Holliday whips Marley across into the opposing corner and then
grabs Gibson Hayes, driving his head into the top turnbuckle of that
corner.]


[TAKE THEM BOTH DOWN POP!]





[Matthew Lee Holliday unloads on Gibson Hayes with a few chops and
then turns and charges at Rick Marley, hitting him with a leaping knee
splash into the corner!]

CL: Holliday isn't done!

FH: What is Whitecross doing?  Isn't there something in the rule book
about being in the corner and against the ropes?

[CHARGING POP!]


[Holliday charges at Gibson Hayes and goes for a stinger splash but
Hayes pulls himself up onto the second rope and dives off taking
Matthew Lee Holliday down with a crossbody block in mid-air.]

CL: A huge counter by Gibson Hayes.

FH: We call that a Scud Missile in, America baby!

CL: Sure we do ... Hayes isn't wasting any time going for the pin and
pulls Holliday up and setting up for a Russian Leg sweep.

FH: Wrong!  Gibson Hayes would never use a "Russian" leg sweep.
Perhaps you meant an "American" leg sweep.

CL: Either way Holliday slips out with an arm wrench and sends Gibson
right back towards the corner!

[... but he gets hit with a big spinebuster by Rick Marley!]


"___THUUUUUD___"


CL: Another accidental double team by Holliday and Marley.  These two
just know one another so well.  Holliday charges going for a
clothesline!

[... but "The last Widowmaker" ducks it and lays him out with a
falling reverse DDT.]


"___THUUUUUD___"


FH: You spoke to soon, Chip!

[The PVW World Heavyweight Champion begins to get the upper hand.  He
backs Holliday into the corner...  He then turns and charges giving
Gibson Hayes a clothesline _over_ the top rope leading to Todd
Johnstone trying to help him up.]

CL: Marley starting to find his comfort zone.  He hits the ropes and
_LEAPS_ OVER THE TOP ROPES TAKING OUT BOTH GIBSON HAYES AND TODD
JOHNSTONE WITH A BODY PRESS!

FH: Whoa!  Rick Marley may be a veteran, but he can still fly with the
best of them.  Senor Cloak Dos should take notes, Chip!

[Rick Marley brings Gibson Hayes up the ramp and gives him a vertical
suplex onto the steel ramp.]


"___CLAAAAAAAANG___"


[WE HATE GIBSON MORE POP!]


CL: Gabriel Whitecross leans over the top ropes looking on with no
count outs in this triple threat match.  And out rolls, Matthew Lee
Holliday.

FH: Who invited him?

[And he attacks Rick Marley, bringing him over to the announcer's
table. Holliday bounces the Champion's head off of the announcer's
table but as he turns around, Gibson Hayes gives him a rake to the
eyes.]

CL: We couldn't have a better seat right now with the action and
Gibson Hayes has fought through the pain in his back and has Holliday
in that Russian Legsweep again ...

FH: Get it right, Chip!  _AMERICAN_ Legsweep.

[And he believers the Legsweep back-first into the announcer's table.]


"___THUUUUUD___"


FH: HAHA!  Couldn't have a better seat to watch the face expression of
pure _pain_ in Holliday's face.  Do it again, Gibby!

[Hayes this time grabs the PVW World Heavyweight Champion by the hair
but unaware to him, he has a mouth full of Chip Lester's water. Rick
Marley turns towards Gibson Hayes and spits the water right in his
face!]

CL: Marley using my water as distraction here ...

FH: You handed it to him didn't you, Chip!  Whitecross better watch
you.

[Marley drags Gibson Hayes up onto the announcer's table. Todd
Johnstone is over in the face of the action, but Matthew Lee Holliday
is up and stops any plan that Johnstone may of had.  Holliday climbs
up announcer's table with both Hayes and Marley.]

CL: This could be dangerous!  All three men are standing on the table
right in front of us.

FH: Ummm ... Chip I don't know about you, but I am moving!

[Marley has Hayes in a belly-to-back ... And now Holliday has Marley
in a belly-to-back.  Both Holliday and Marley lift .... And the three
men fall _THROUGH_ the announcers table!]


"___CRAAAAAASSSHHH___"


[HOLY BLEEP POP!!!]


CL: HOLY CRAP!  Thank goodness for wireless headset's these days.  All
three men are down in the mess!  And it looks like Gibson Hayes
received the most force as Holliday and Marley are starting to move
and stir.

FH: A true warrior putting his body on the line for his country.
Gibson Hayes better be awarded the purple heart after this!

CL: And it looks like Whitecross is starting to enjoy this match more
and more.  Look at the grin across the referee's face.

FH: He would!  And we thought Brit's were our allies!

[Holliday and Marley both get up at the same time and begin
brawling back down towards the ring. Holliday throws Marley back into
the ring and follows him in, unloading several right hands infront of
Gabriel Whitecross. He has the Champion back into the ropes and then
sends him across and sets him up for a back body drop, but Marley
stops short and crushes Matthew Lee Holliday with a spike DDT.]


"___THUUUUUUD___"


CL: Marley covers Holliday!  Gibson Hayes is still on the outside and
this could be the end of it!




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[KICK OUT POP!]


CL: NO!  Whitecross is holding up two fingers.

FH: I didn't see a kick out.  Where was the kick out?

[Marley pulls Holliday up and he is looking to end things while Hayes
isn't around.  He begins to set up for the Widowmaker, but the crafty
legend slips out of it and trips Rick Marley.]

CL: Marley was looking to end things early, but Holliday was ready.
Holliday is now starting to turn Marley in a double leg Boston Crab!

FH: Fight it Rick!

[Whitecross looks on as Marley fights!  Holliday instead puts a his
boot in the gut of the Champion. He picks Marley back up and whips him
off the ropes, hitting him with a shortarm Cobra Neckbreaker!]


[DOC SIG SPOT POP!]


CL: Canyon Runner!  DOC IS NOW HOOKING A LEG!




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




...




FH: Marley shoots a shoulder up!  And even Whitecross can't screw over
the champion on that one!

CL: Holliday isn't wasting any time and he has an inverted STF locked
on out of nowhere!

[Marley screams in pain as he reaches for the ropes.  Gibson Hayes
rolls into the ring and crawls over to the scene, punching Holliday
right in the ribs. Hayes gets up and puts the boots to Holliday as he
tries to get up.]

CL: Gibson Hayes is finally back in the match.

FH: This no announcers table thing sort of stinks.  Think we could get
them to bring us out a new one?

CL: Todd Johnstone now right in the ear of Whitecross demanding that
he protect his man out there.

[Hayes throws Holliday in the corner and drives his knee into the ribs
of the Arizona native several times.  Hayes notices Rick Marley
pulling himself up and catches him with his slingshot suplex!]


"___THUUUUUUUD___"


FH: Bounced Check!

CL: Gibson Hayes now getting some revenge.  He is up and mounting the
second ropes and punching away at the face of Holliday.

[Rick Marley has rolled to the outside after that slingshot suplex.
Whitecross standing out of the way looking on allowing the match to
continue.  Marley climbs up to the top rope which distracts Hayes.
Holliday slips out from in-front of Hayes, getting behind him and
walking out of the corner with Hayes on his shoulders in an electric
chair drop position. The fans roar as Holliday falls back with an
electric chair drop flowing perfectly into a frog splash by Marley.]


"___THUUUUUUD___"



"___CRAAAASH___"


[HUGE ROARING POP!]


CL: WHOA!  You can bet that wasn't planned, but _again_ a Marley and
Holliday spot combined has worked at Gibson Hayes disadvantage.

FH: Not to take anything away from Marley, but this is starting to
look like a conspiracy against America!

[Marley hooks a leg!]




!!! ONE !!!




[Holliday quickly gets up as Whitecross makes the count and pulls the
Champion off the cover, locking him in that elevated double leg Boston
Crab.]

CL: Holliday has Marley in a tough position as Whitecross looks on.
Marley shouting get out of his face.

FH: Whitecross better becareful.  You don't mess with a man's legacy.

[Gibson Hayes has been handed a steel chair, by Todd Johnstone from
the outside.  He turns, but Whitecross is right there and _yanks_ it
away from Gibson Hayes.]


[REF POP!]


FH: Hey!

CL: Whitecross has been an outstanding referee thus far.  He isn't
about to let things get out of hand with a steel chair.

FH: He let our announcers table go up in pieces.

[Gibson Hayes is right up in Whitecross's face.  Matthew Lee Holliday
drops the hold and spins Gibson Hayes around and nails him with a bone
crushing swift left jab that drops the American hero right on the
mat!]

FH: CONSPIRACY!

CL: Holliday now turns and Marley is up ... SUPERKICK!


"___TWAAAAAP___"


[And Holliday drops to the mat in the same fashion, Gibson Hayes did.
The PVW World Heavyweight Champion stumbles trying to shake the pain
from his legs.  He then climbs the top ropes and leaps off with a
shooting star press and lands right on Gibson Hayes.]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




...




...




[HUGE BREAK UP THE PIN POP!]


CL: HOLLIDAY JUST GOT THERE.  It didn't appear that Gibson Hayes was
going to be able to kick out.

FH: That was close right there.  Marley almost retained his title.

[Holliday pulls Hayes back up and locks him with a double underhook
and lifts him up and into a butterfly suplex.  He rolls over and hooks
the leg.]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




...




...




[DOH POP!]


CL: Marley pulled Holliday off this time!  And Marley puts some boots
to the  back of Holliday.   He now pulls of Gibson Hayes and he sets
him up for a piledriver ...


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


[POOR GIBSON ... NOT POP!]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[DOC BROKE IT UP AGAIN POP!]


CL: Now Holliday and Marley are just going in circles.   Gibson Hayes
is paying for it.

FH: If anyone can with stand the punishment in this match it's,
Gibson!

[Inside the ring Gibson Hayes looks to be out of it ... And the crowd
goes wild as Holliday and Marley _lock_ up right in the middle of the
ring.]

CL: It's like we have a new match, Fred!

FH: Gibson Hayes stood tall and had to take on _three_ men.  What do
you expect, Chip?

CL: Three?

FH: Yeah ...  Rick Marley, Matthew Lee Holliday, and Gabriel
Whitecross.

CL: Oh give me a break.

FH: Truer words haven't been spoken all night.

CL: Whitecross has stood back and let these three fight it out.  He
has been nothing short of a model referee.

FH: Pete Hernandez is backstage saying, "Damn that Whitecross sure
can't officiate!"

CL: Oh brother.

[Marley and Holliday fight for positioning and Holliday is the first
to push the Champion back against the ropes.  Whitecross is right
there to warn Holliday ...   Matthew Lee Holliday raises his arms
backing off and Marley with a cheap shot!]


TWAP!


CL: Marley taking advantage of Holliday following the rules.

FH: There is a first time for everything.  Perhaps Holliday is scared
of Whitecross.  Maybe I was wrong about this!

[Holliday grabs his throat and Marley springboards off with a rocker
dropper smashing Holliday down to the mat.  The PVW World Heavyweight
Champion is quick to reach his feet and he grabs the leg of Holliday
and he looks to be calling for his version of the sharpshooter, but
Holliday is quick and brings him in with a full package pinfall!]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




CL: No!  Marley powers out!  Both men are back up and he charges and
right into a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker!


"___CRAAAACK___"


FH: Vicious backbreaker and Marley is in some pain.

[Holliday now stands over Rick Marley and from behind, Gibson Hayes
with a low blow stops Matthew Lee Holliday in his tracks!]


[GROANS!]


CL: And Gibson Hayes has found out that Matthew Lee Holliday is always
inside the ring prepared with a cup on!

FH: That should be illegal!

[Holliday has turned around with his fist raised high.  Hayes on his
knee's begging that Matthew Lee Holliday reconsider!  Holliday is
shaking his head ...   However Rick Marley is up and from behind
standing reverse neckbreaker, rude awakening style drops Matthew Lee
Holliday like a ton of bricks.]

CL: Rick Marley and Gibson Hayes now working together.

FH: That's the way it should have been the whole time!

[Marley and Hayes in some sort of "agreement" yank the PVW number one
contender to his feet.  They pull the stunned Matthew Lee Holliday up
and Marley rebounds off the ropes on one side while Gibson Hayes does
the opposite.  Marley goes high hitting a lariat while Gibson Hayes
goes low chop blocking, Matthew Lee Holliday.]


[BOOOOO!]


CL: It's like they are trying to out do one another in a double team
move.  I have never seen anything like that.

FH: Marley now lifting Gibson Hayes up like an atomic drop, but slams
him in a sitting position on top of, Matthew Lee Holliday!

[Hayes rolls off as Holliday holds his mid-section in pain.  Marley
drops down in a surprise move and covers him!]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[POP!]


CL: Hayes pulled Marley off.  And Gibson Hayes drops down for the
cover!




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[POP!]



FH: And Rick Marley this time is the one to pull off Gibson Hayes.

[Both men are now on their feet and in each other's face.  Marley
shoves the challenger and Gibson Hayes returns with a shove.
Whitecross is now backing away enjoying what is about to go down!
Matthew Lee Holliday is slowly pushing himself up ... Until Rick
Marley turns into a standing superkick while Gibson Hayes executes a
spinning leg sweep dropping Holliday again backwards.]

FH: WHOA!  Check that double team move, Chip.  That should be called
America's Widowmaker!

CL: And Marley is up and right into a snap suplex by Gibson Hayes.


"___THUUUD___"


[Marley pushing himself back up, but Hayes with a punch out of nowhere
to the throat.  Marley quickly bends over in pain.  Hayes begins to
unwrap the tape around his wrists and he lunges forward wrapping it
around the throat of the PVW World Heavyweight Champion!]

CL: And Gabriel Whitecross is right there warning, Gibson Hayes!

FH: Oh now he decides to do his job.

CL: Weren't you just complimenting him a little earlier?

FH: Where have you been, Chip?

CL: ...

[Hayes refuses to listen to Whitecross and he begins the dreaded
"count down".]


ONE !!!


TWO !!!


THREE !!!


"You aren't a referee ... You are nothing!"


[Whitecross stops his count and grabs Gibson Hayes wrist and begins to
_unwrap_ it himself!]


[THAT'S HOW YOU DEAL WITH GIBSON POP!]


CL: And Todd Johnstone is livid!

FH: Rightfully so!

[Hayes has now been unwrapped and he isn't happy.  He is in
Whitecross's face threatening him.  Whitecross raises his arms and
_welcomes_ any action that Gibson Hayes wants to take.  Matthew Lee
Holliday form behind and a bridging pin!]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!




...




...




[SO CLOSE POP!]


CL: No that was so close.  Even Whitecross wanted that to be a three
count.  Unfortunately that was only a two.

FH: A _fast_ two count at that!

[Hayes leaps up and runs right into a dropkick by Matthew Lee
Holliday.  Gibson Hayes quickly back up and eats a clothesline.
Matthew Lee Holliday pulls Gibson to his feet and lifts him up hitting
a Running Michinoku Driver II!]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


[SIGNATURE SPOT POP!]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!




[DAMMIT SO CLOSE AGAIN POP!]


CL: NO!!!!  HAYES JUST SHOT A SHOULDER UP!  AND _AGAIN_ he escaped
defeat.

FH: Whitecross is out to screw, Hayes over!  Just look at how fast he
is counting when Holliday covers him.

CL: It looked fine by me.

FH: You would say that!

[Holliday is back up, but is lifted from behind by a waist lift
powerbomb by Rick Marley!]


"___THUUUUUUUUD___"


FH: Showbomb!

CL: And Rick Marley is up and took advantage of the situation.  That's
always the advantage of the man who had been nearly defeated prior in
a triple threat match.  You become the forgotten one for enough time
to plan your next strike.

[The Champion springboards off the top ropes and lands a Split Legged
Moonsault.  He hooks the leg and nods as Whitecross slides down to
make _another_ count.]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[KICK OUT POP!]


CL: Holliday shoots a shoulder up.  As the match wages on you can see
a little desperation in each of these three men.  They hit impact
after impact move, but it's hard to keep _both_ men down long enough
to pick up the victory.

FH: It's like a chess match, Chip.  You have to think three moves
ahead of both your partners in a match like this.

CL: Well these are three of professional wrestling's best.  Whomever
wins tonight is going to earn it.

FH: Unless Whitecross continues to attempt to hand the match over to,
Matthew Lee Holliday.

CL: Whitecross is doing a fine job.

[Marley now pulls Holliday up and locks on a side headlock.]

CL: What is the PVW World Heavyweight Champion doing?

FH: Looking to end things once and for all.

[He charges towards the ropes and leaps over looking to guillotine
Holliday's neck, but the Arizona native was able to stop and shove him
as he began he leap and sent the champion crashing to the outside!]


[HOLY COUNTER BATMAN POP!]


CL: Marley went for the, Director's Cut, but Holliday had that well
telegraphed and sent Marley to the outside empty handed.

FH: Whitecross should be doing something about this injustice!

CL: What injustice would that be, Fred?

FH: The one where --


"___THUUUUD___"


[Holliday turned where Gibson Hayes just made it back to his feet and
caught the unexpected PVW number-one contender with a sitting face
driver.]

FH: Who needs Whitecross when you have, GIBSON HAYES!

CL: The Tuscaloosa Tumble right there by Hayes and he drops down and
hooks a leg.

FH: NEW CHAMPION TIME!




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[SCREW YOU GIBSON KICK OUT POP!]


CL: Holliday isn't done yet, Fred!

FH: Oh he is ... He just doesn't know it yet.

CL: Wait what is Hayes doing now?

[Hayes is knelled over digging down in his boot and he has pulled out
a _fork_ and begins to head towards the dazed Holliday.  The home town
crowd has become uneasy.]

CL: Gibson Hayes has pulled that fork out and he is heading right
towards, Matthew Lee Holliday.

FH: Holliday has been testing the rules all night.  It's about time
for some justice by Gibson Hayes.

CL: Oh give me a break.


[ROARING HELL YEAH POP!]


[As Hayes started to get close to Holliday he ran chest-to-chest with
the referee of the night, Gabriel Whitecross.  He grabbed the wrist of
Gibson Hayes and with his other hand _removed_ the illegal object.
Hayes is up in Whitecross's face and Todd Johnstone is on the outside
giving the legend an ear full]

FH: What!?!?!  I thought Whitecross was suppose to be impartial!?!
What the hell is going on here.

CL: What do you call a _FORK_ being pulled out of Gibson Hayes boot,
Fred?

FH: Deserving.

CL: Well the referee, Gabriel Whitecross disagree's.

[And Holliday _spins_ Hayes around and drills the former PVW Double
Champion with a left jab ...]

CL: That deadly sweet jab has the American hero seeing stars.  Add the
distraction and Gibson Hayes is in a bad spot.

FH: Do something Todd!

[Holliday picks up Gibson Hayes as if for a fisherman suplex, holds
him vertical, and sits out into an elevated neckbreaker.]


[TEAR DOWN THE ROOF FINISHER POP!]


CL: Old West Lynching!  We are going to have a new champion ... An
Arizona native Champion!

FH: This isn't good at all.




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!




[DAMMIT NOOOOOOO HEEL POP!]




CL: RICK MARLEY JUST DOVE AT THE LAST SECOND BREAKING UP THE COUNT!!!

FH: Oh thank _god_!

[And Todd Johnstone looks as if he just had a heart attack.  Gabriel
Whitecross is back on his feet waving off the count saying it was only
_two_.]

CL: That was so close.  Gibson Hayes was out for the count.  He is
still laid flat on the mat not moving at all.

FH: A travesty ... However Marley can still do it.


[FIST A FLYIN POP!]


CL:  _Years_ of bottled up anger ... Years of jealousy ... And a few
years
of hatred ... You are seeing two men who wanted to tear one another
apart.

FH: Break him, Marley!

[Gibson Hayes has started to move ... a little ... Marley backs
Holliday up in the corner. He unloads in a series of knife-edge
chops.]


TWAP!!!


TWAP!!!


TWAP!!!


TWAP!!!


CL: After everything these three have been through this match.  It
looks like Marley is adding some insult.

FH: He is reminding Holliday who the Champion is.


[HUGE POP!]


[Holliday has spun Marley around and unloaded with chops of his own.]


TWAP!!!


TWAP!!!


TWAP!!!


TWAP!!!


TWAP!!!


TWAP!!!


TWAP!!!


CL: Marley is stumbling out of the corner holding his chest in pain.
Gibson Hayes has now rolled to the outside ring apron.  Holliday
looking to set up a vertical suplex ...

[Holliday lifts Marley up for a vertical suplex, but while Marley is
at the apex, Marley twists around, and locks his arm around Holliday's
throat as his legs come down, allowing him to hit an inverted DDT on
the way down.]


"___THUUUUUUUUD___"


FH: Rewrite!  This could start to spell the end!

CL: Marley decides not to go for the cover and pulls Mat ... Forget it
_DOC_ to his feet.

FH: You can't do that!

CL: I just did.  _DOC_!  Marley is looking to set him up, but NO!

[Holliday has Marley by the head and arm in an inverted half-nelson,
lifts, and drills them down to the canvas, falling backwards!]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUD___"


[ROARING COUNTER POP!]


CL: Arizona Sandstorm!!!  Wait Gibson Hayes is on the top ropes.


[THE CHEERS KEEP GOING!]

[Holliday catches Hayes coming off the ropes with a knee then
transitions into a DDT.]


"___THUUUUD___"


CL: Doc is now pointing at Gibson Hayes and shaking his head, yes!

FH: Do something Todd!

[Holliday lifts Hayes up in an inverted fireman's carry, tosses him
forward, and brings up a hard kneelift to the back of the neck.]


"___CRAAAAACK___"


[WE LOVE DOC POP!]


CL: Arizona Heatflash!


[BOOOOOOOOOO!]


FH: And Todd drags Hayes to the outside of the ring.  What a smart
move by the genius of the PVW.

CL: Holliday looks at Whitecross who just shrugs.  Holliday then
LAUNCHES HIMSELF UP AND OVER ONTOP OF TODD JOHNSTONE AND GIBSON HAYES!


D O C ! ! !    D O C ! ! !    D O C ! ! !


D O C ! ! !    D O C ! ! !    D O C ! ! !


D O C ! ! !    D O C ! ! !    D O C ! ! !


D O C ! ! !    D O C ! ! !    D O C ! ! !



FH: And Marley is up ... He launches HIMSELF up and over on top of the
pile!




[TEARING DOWN THE ROOF ONLY IN PVW POP!]




CL: ALL THREE MEN ARE NOW ON THE OUTSIDE!   Things have turned to
chaos.

FH: There can't be a count out in a match like this.  So might as well
take it to the outside if your Rick Marley.




P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !


P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !


P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !


P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !


P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !   P V W ! ! !




CL: And the Phoenix fans are on their feet cheering these competitors
on.

FH: As much as these fans and I disagree.  When it comes down to it
they know real talent when they see it.

CL: Awww ... A bonding moment between Fred and the fans.

FH: Don't ruin it, Chip.

[Marley is the first to get up.  He stumbles backwards and then goes
to pull up, Matthew Lee Holliday.  He slowly lifts his rival and nails
a few close range forearms for good measure.  He charges toward the
ring steps looking to send Holliday crashing into them, but Holliday
blocks it.  He hits the Champion with a hard right.  He nails another
one.  He grabs Marley into a headlock and then jabs his thumb into the
throat of the Champion.  Marley bends over above the ring steps now
gasping for air and Holliday drives him face forward down into those
exposed metal steps with a legdriver bulldog.]


"___SMAAAAAAAAAACK___"


[BREAK HIS NOSE POP!]


CL: Holliday pulling out all the _take_ what Rick Marley holds dear.

FH: Holliday doesn't even care about the PVW World Heavyweight
Championship.  He would be a terrible representive of the PVW.  When
you ask _anyone_ who Mr. PVW is.  They respond, Rick Marley.

CL: I won't deny that Rick Marley has bled PVW, but to accuse Holliday
of only wanting the title because Rick Marley has it sounds far
fetched.

FH: But very likely.

[Holliday now rolls Rick Marley under the ropes and back inside the
ring where, Gabriel Whitecross is waiting.  Holliday lands a
powerdrive elbow and hooks the leg.]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




...




...




!!! THREE !!!




[SO CLOSE BUT NOOOO POP!]


CL: Even Holliday thought he had it there!  Whitecross is waving the
three count off saying that Marley just got his shoulder up.

FH: Dang that made my heart stop for a second.  Quick check and see if
I have a pulse, Chip.

CL: You are talking aren't you.

FH: Quick show me a naked picture of your wife.  I need to make sure I
am still alive.

CL: I think your fine.

FH: Dang what kind of friend are you?

[The fans are on their feet in full support of, Matthew Lee Holliday.
He pulls the PVW World Heavyweight Champion up in the center of the
ring.  He begins to set up for his pumphandle cradle DDT ...]

CL: Holliday is going for Ace in the hole!  If he hits this it's all,
but over.

FH: Unless Gibson Hayes can do something!

[Marley blocks it ... The massive cheers go silent in shock!  The
champion then out of no where hits his Widowmaker ace crusher!]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUD___"



[ROARING HEEL HEAT!]


FH: MARLEY TURNED THE TIDES!!! THE ACE IN THE HOLE BLOCKED INTO A
WIDOWMAKER!!!

[... Marley turns and Gibson _LEVELS_ Marley with a GHK-1, literally
kicking RM out of the ring!]


"___CRAAAAAAAAAACK___"


[SHOCKING UNEXPECTED POP!]


CL: GIBSON HAYES JUST SAVED THE MATCH!

[Hayes still feeling the impact of the series of moves earlier is slow
to get up and he crawls over and covers Holliday.]

CL: Hayes trying to win it right here.  Whitecross making the cover!



!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!



[TEAR DOWN THE MOTHER BLEEPING ROOF KICK OUT POP!]


CL: NO!!!! HOLLIDAY JUST KICKED OUT AT THE VERY LAST MILI-SECOND!  AND
GIBSON HAYES CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

FH: That count _had_ to be slow.  Someone rewind the tape I want to
see this!

[Todd Johnstone shouting for him to hurry and finish him before Marley
gets up and returns to the ring.]

FH: Smart advice by Todd Johnstone.  This is why I call him the
genius, Chip.

CL: Hayes now trying to make quick work as he drives some hard closed
right hands.

[Hayes lifts Holliday up and another A slingshot suplex ..]


"___THUUUUUD___"


CL: Another bounced check by Gibson Hayes and he is making another
cover!




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[FANS SCREAMING AND POINTING ...]




...




...




FH: Why has Whitecross stopped!?!?!

[Hayes has placed his feet on the middle ropes holding Holliday down
for the cover.  Whitecross stops and stands up looking at Gibson Hayes
shaking his head no.]

CL: Whitecross is refusing to make that third count because he is
using his feet as leverage.

FH: This is bull!

[And Gibson Hayes isn't happy at all.  He has leaped to his feet and
he _shoves_ Gabriel Whitecross.  Whitecross looks to be getting ready
to shove him back, but Holliday from behind with a roll up!]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!




CL: WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION ... NO DANGIT!!! HAYES PUSHED OUT JUST IN
TIME!


FH: I am going to need a drink after this match.  That was so damn
close.  Too close for America!

[Both men on their feet and Holliday ducks under a clothesline...
Hayes turns and another shortarm cobra neckbreaker!]


[POP!]


CL: Marley on the apron springboards up and as Doc turns around ...


"___TWAAAAAP___"


... ENZIGURI!

FH: Holliday still on his feet but in trouble!




"___THUUUUUUUUD___"





[NOOO!  FINISHER SPOT!]



CL: A SECOND WIDOWMAKER!!!!  DOC IS LAID OUT FLAT!  He has taken so
many high impact moves in this match.

FH: And Gibson and Marley haven't?

CL: Okay all three men have!  Marley doesn't appear to be finished!
What is he doing!?!?  He is climbing the ropes!

FH: He wants to prove to the world once and for all.  That he is
better then Holliday.

[He points down at Holliday ... Todd Johnstone is on the ring apron
now and he grabs the ankle of the PVW World Heavyweight Champion.]

CL: Johnstone is trying to slow the Champion down!  Marley is trying
to shake him lose ...

[And finally off goes Johnstone and to the floor!]


[JOHNSTONE GOES SPLAT POP!]


CL: HE LEAPS INTO THE HIGHLIGHT REEL!

[Tuck

Senton

Bomb!]


"___THUUUUUUUD___"


FH: HOLLIDAY IS OUT OF IT!  IT'S JUST A MATTER OF THREE SECONDS NOW!







!!! ONE !!!






[Hayes grabs Marley and lifts him up ...  Red, White, and Blue liquid
comes from the mouth of the former Double Champion and all over the
face and eyes of the PVW World Heavyweight Champion.]


[WHAT THE BLEEP POP!]


CL: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?!?!

FH: The colors of America, Chip.

[Marley is blinded and stumbling backwards ... Whitecross isn't happy
... And Hayes leaps on top of Holliday making a cover.]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!




[ROARING THIS IS BULL CRAP POP!]



CL: This can't be ... No ...

FH: AMERICA WINS!

[The PVW tag team Champions, Livestock and The Gutch are headed down
the aisle way as, Gabriel Whitecross, stands in the center of the ring
just glaring at Gibson Hayes.]

CL: Whitecross had to do his job, but he knows that Gibson Hayes is a
snake!

FH: Gibson Hayes fought through _both_ Rick Marley and Matthew Lee
Holliday, Chip.  Give our Champion _respect_!

HD: The Winner of the match ... AND NEW PVW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT
CHAMPION.


GIBSON HAYES !!!


[Trash is filling the ring.   Gibson Hayes snatches the PVW World
Heavyweight Championship from Gabriel Whitecross and hands it to Todd
Johnstone who has just joined him inside the ring.  Johnstone places
the title around his waist as the fans continue to boo!]

FH: You are looking at a new era in the PVW.  America's era ...
Gibson Hayes, Todd Johnstone, and the tag team champions.

[Speaking of the tag team champions they have now grabbed the blinded
former champion, Rick Marley on the outside.  With orders from
Johnstone they begin pummeling him.]

CL: What is this crap!


*DING*DING*DING*


FH: It appears that Livestock and The Gutch have orders from the
genius.

[Gutch gets a rear waistlock on the blinded and prone former champion,
walks Marley, where Livestock has now climbed up on a side table.  He
leaps off with a bulldog.  Gutch falls with the move too, effectively
making a combo facebuster/bulldog maneuver to the hard unforgiving
cement!]


"___THUUUUUUUUD___"


FH: OUCH!  Sending a message to the PVW.  A Final Statement if you
will.  Did you get that Chip?  A pun of their finisher's name, Final
Statement!

CL: Whitecross has now rolled to the outside and he is standing over
his foe, Rick Marley!  He has his fist clinched and he is ready to go
at it!


[WHITECROSS POP!]


[However the message was sent.  The PVW tag team champions have joined
the new PVW World Heavyweight Champion inside the ring.  Together the
trio stand with gold around their waist.]


CL: I can't believe this folks.  Gibson Hayes some how ... some way
did it again.  He has held nearly every title inside the PVW and he is
our PVW World Heavyweight Champion.

FH: This is Gibson Hayes place and everyone else just wrestles here,
Chip.

CL: Johnny Detson is now Mr. Called Shot and Gibson Hayes is the PVW
World Heavyweight Champion.  I am not sure what PVW has in store, but
this isn't looking too good.

[EMT's are now inside the ring checking over Doc Holliday.  Gibson
Hayes has now climbed the turnbuckle as the fans continue to toss
trash inside the ring.  He looks right down at Gabriel Whitecross who
stands over the unconscious former champion.  Their eyes meet ...
Gibson Hayes then points down to the PVW World Heavyweight Champion as
to "thank", Gabriel Whitecross for a job well done.]

CL: Folks we are out of time.  Thank you for tuning in to End Game.  I
don't know where PVW is headed ... But we now know it runs _through_,
Gibson Hayes.

FH: And that is a win for America!

[We catch one final glimpse of the PVW World Heavyweight Champion.
Todd Johnsone stands proud as Gibson Hayes is full of smiles.]


***********************************************
Match Writing Credits
World Title Main Event: Brian
Called Shot: Rob
Max and Sal v. Heat: Dan & Rob
Livestock & Ow v. Gutch & Mal: Nathan
Tag Title Match: Picky
Fontana v. Landis: Dro
Merc v. McKenzie: Jer and JC
HvD v. Manson: Flouze
Cole v. Craven: Mark
***********************************************