[The black screen fades backstage at the AT & T Center in San Antonio,
Texas, Dean Hayes stands in front of the PVW banner with a bit of
nervousness as he clears his throat. He looks into the camera, off
kilter a little and obviously afraid as he speaks.]

DH: Ladies and gentlemen... with me tonight is Rob Cole, the man who
takes credit for ending the career of Brian Young and who managed to
qualify for the World Title Tournament due to his actions at the last
Heatwave!

[Cole steps into the scene, chuckling and smiling as he shakes his
head. He reaches over and pats Dean on the shoulder before reaching
for the microphone.]

RC: Thanks for the introduction, Dean-o... but I think the fans at
home know who I am and they know why I'm here tonight. I'm here to
take /my/ spot... you hear me, Chase?  I'm here to take MY spot. The
dog and pony show is about to begin, but the scarred and beaten little
mutt snuck his way in through the back door. And everyone knows this
dog is rabid, this dog is vicious... and everyone wants to see this
dog get put down once and for all. I've been such a very bad little
doggy, Dean... I broke Brian Young, I schooled his protege, and then I
squirmed my way back into the title scene by being EXACTLY what I told
everyone I was. I did it by removing the only man in this company that
ever put me down for the three count! The fans don't like me for it...
SSN doesn't like me for it... the boys in the locker room hate me for
it. But this isn't about them... THIS IS ABOUT ME!!!! So you might as
well send a comforting card to the former PVW Champion, the man who
"never lost his belt"... wah wah wah... you better go tell Chase
Williams to dry his tears, drink his milk,
take his vitamins, and shut up!  I took my spot... I wrenched it out
of his hands and I earned it with blood.

DH: Uhm... harsh words... don't you even care that the fans were
throwing garbage at you?

RC: Care?  Oh, right... the same fans who sent me all those "get well"
cards over the years?  The same fans who offered to help pay for my
sons' college tuition, my wife's family caravan, or my own piling
medical bills from facing down The Spectre and wrapping myself up in
barbed wire... those fans?  Garbage is the only thing the fans have
ever given to me, Dean... garbage and bloodlust.  Everyone wants to
know "why"... Why is Rob Cole turning his back on PVW?  Why is Rob
Cole using all those short cuts?  Why is Rob Cole becoming such a
jerk?  I want to know why it took me so long to realize that these
people, this company, and everyone in the back are just a bunch of
circling vultures looking to pick at the scraps I leave behind.  You
want to talk about the fans a little more?  Or would you like to move
on to my match tonight... to the underdog rookie with pizzazz!!!

DH: In your promo earlier this week, you alluded to threats on Lady
Laurel...

RC: No no no... you see, Dean-o! This is why it's so hard to trust the
news these days, because so many people get it wrong. I didn't
allude... I threatened the poor girl with grievous personal injury. I
said that I would break her neck... snap, crackle, pop! I would end
the comfort of full mobility and leave her a paralyzed wreck if I get
the chance... and the only thing that's changed since I made those
statements is time and the date. I'm a man who keeps his word... and
I'm going to take the "women's Champion", tear the belt off her waist,
and I'm going to twist her little head around untill I hear
satisfaction POP!!! Then I walk out of the arena...
two bodies crumpled and broken, two stories come to a tragic end.

DH: Word is that Tommy Ryder doesn't like you threatening his...

[Dean is cut off as Cole shoves him back against the wall, his face a
sudden mask of fury!]

RC: HOW'S HE GOING TO STOP ME?!?!!! HUH?!?!!! Tommy Ryder is a dumb
kid who got in way over his head... he's dragging that poor girl down
with him and I'm going to hurt them both! That's what I do, Dean...
don't act shocked, don't act horrified, don't act stunned... I do it
again and again and again! I'm the horror show come to life. I know
what everyone is expecting... the underdog is going to put on the
fight of his life.  Pizzazz!  Excitement!  He's going to take to the
air and hit me with one exciting move after another, flipping and
flopping and doing everything he can to keep the big bad wolf from
taking a bite of Little Red Riding Hood. When I step in the ring with
Tommy Ryder, I'm going to gouge his eyes, choke the breath out of him,
and crack his skull against the mat over and over and over again. And
the moment he's out of it for a second, the moment he's dazed, I'm
going to rush out of the ring and I'm going to break her neck! BREAK
IT!!!! So, for the rest of the match, he's going to be driven by rage
and anger and hate and it's all going to mean absolutely nothing...
NOTHING!!!! Because I'm going to beat him and I'm going to leave him
there, let it sink in, letting him know just how pathetic he is. He
couldn't protect her from the Monster... he couldn't even protect
himself. And then he'll know why Caleb Foley has that haunted look in
his eyes... he'll know why Caleb Foley felt when he had to pay a visit
to Brian Young and tell the former Champion that he couldn't beat the
monster, either. He'll go back to the locker room and he'll find out
what his courage cost him... what it cost him to not be afraid of the
monster, to fight the monster and meet it head on! See, all those
people out there with all those expectations are going to have them
crushed and dashed before their eyes... and with me being the way that
I am, there are NO more heroes to stand brave and tall.

[Cole releases Dean Hayes, spinning to face the camera with a
bloodthirsty smile as he steps closer... ]

RC: And all of you are going to have to swallow it... swallow his
loss, his pain, his sorrow, and everything that comes with it. I'm
going to do it again and again and again... no matter who you put in
front of me. I am the childhood fear you thought you left behind, the
reason a chill runs up your spine in the wee dark hours
of the night, the warning tug at the back of your mind telling you to
stay away....

I AM THE MONSTER BENEATH YOUR BED!!!!!

[Cole walks away, leaving a fearful and stunned Dean Hayes to watch
after the man who once stood as a hero for the PVW.  A man who has
become the monster he promised to be.]




[Scene fades to The PVW logo appears over a black background...]


                          ____ _    ___       __
                         / __ \ |  / / |     / /
                        / /_/ / | / /| | /| / /
                       / ____/| |/ / | |/ |/ /
                      /_/     |___/  |__/|__/



[It sounds like someone just slammed their foot on the gas pedal of a
1969 Mustang fastback... The tires spin and it takes off.  The SSN
logo comes crashing into the PVW and sits right at it's side.]


    ____ _    ___       __            __________ _   __
   / __ \ |  / / |     / /           / ___/ ___// | / /
  / /_/ / | / /| | /| / /  ______    \__ \\__ \/  |/ /
 / ____/| |/ / | |/ |/ /  /_____/   ___/ /__/ / /|  /
/_/     |___/  |__/|__/            /____/____/_/ |_/



[It's replaced with ...]



 #     #
 #     # ######   ##   ##### #    #   ##   #    # ######
 #     # #       #  #    #   #    #  #  #  #    # #
 ####### #####  #    #   #   #    # #    # #    # #####
 #     # #      ######   #   # ## # ###### #    # #
 #     # #      #    #   #   ##  ## #    #  #  #  #
 #     # ###### #    #   #   #    # #    #   ##   ######




[We fade right outside the AT & T Center in San Antonio, Texas.  It's
nearly show time and what's left of the late arriving fans are
attempting to rush through before bell time.

We change directions and cut inside the arena.  The camera fires
through panning on the rabid wrestling fans.  Signs are being shoved
in-front of the camera.  "I WANT TO BE PINNED BY LAUREL" / "BLAME
CANADA" / "PVW WELCOME TO WRESTLING HEAVEN ... TEXAS!" / "COLE IS A B
LEVEL HORROR MOVIE!" / "MARLEY HIDES BEHIND HIS BITCHES"

Pan to center of the arena ...  We zoom in once again to PVW's new
SSN-themed wrestling ring.  Down the sides of the ring we see the PVW
logo sitting next to the SSN logo.  Underneath it surrounded by flames
says - "The new revolution".  The turnbuckles are gold, and the ropes
are a black, gold, black design.  In the center of the ring where the
giant Phoenix used to consume most of the center has been replaced
with a globe that has PVW - SSN circling the world.

But there's one new addition to the ring this week, and it doesn't
look like SSN had anything to do with it.  It is a railroad spike,
wedged into the apron nearest the aisle.  The spike has been driven
into the wooden framework of the ring, and it is being used to nail a
large piece of yellowish parchment to the ring.  The parchment is
imprinted with bold western-style text which reads:



--------------------------------------------
|AN EXCERPT FROM THE CODE OF THE OLD WEST  |
|                                          |
|Justice is in the hands of the wronged.   |
|                                          |
|When a man is killed without just cause,  |
|his sons have the right to seek the life  |
|of the killer, for he has taken a life    |
|from them.                                |
|                                          |
|If the deceased has brothers, his brothers|
|have the right to seek the life of the    |
|killer, for he has taken a life from them.|
|                                          |
|But if the deceased has a father, the     |
|right is his above all.  For not only has |
|he lost the life of his son, but his own  |
|life has been taken as well.  His sons are|
|his legacy and his future.  Therefore the |
|father has the right to take the life of  |
|the killer, and his sons as well.         |
--------------------------------------------



More ominous than the parchment, though, is the OTHER thing hanging
from the railroad spike... a hangman's noose.  Looped around the
spike, the instrument of execution dangles there, presenting a silent
message of its own.


Then, bright colors of gold, silver, and red fountain fireworks begin
to shoot from the turnbuckles...]





"__FAAASSSHHHOOOOM~!__"




"__KAAAABBBOOOOOOM~!__"




"__FAAASSSHHHOOOOM~!__"




"__KAAAABBBOOOOOOM~!__"




"__KAAAABBBOOOOOOM~!__"




"__FAAASSSHHHOOOOM~!__"




[The fireworks get a huge pop from the fans as we cut to ringside
where the broadcasting table is set up.  There are two familiar faces
behind the table.  On the left is hip, Chip Lester.   Chip has on a
PVW Polo design shirt.  To the right is former wrestling veteran and
broadcasting legend, "Fabulous" Fred Hoyle.  Hoyle has on a black
button up SSN shirt.]

CL: Once again, thank you for being with us tonight on SSN!  We're in
San Antonio, live and in color.  But already, we can tell that
something is going to happen tonight.  Fred Hoyle, what on Earth do
you make of that parchment and noose?

FH: No idea.  This IS San Antonio, though.  Remember the Alamo?

CL: Cute, but not exactly illuminating.

FH: I'll tell you this; that is a message.  And it's chilling.  They
used to execute murderers by hanging here in Texas, and it looks like
someone has that same idea.  Maybe William Craven, since he was
talking about it a bit this week.  But still... Code Of The Old West?
Where does THAT fit in?

CL: We'll find out as the night progresses, I am sure.  Speaking of
tonight what a night we have planned for you.  We are a month away
from PVW invading Las Vegas!   A handful of matches have already been
announced for PVW's mega event; Boiling Point.   Tonight we continue
to find out just what two men will be facing off for the PVW World
Heavyweight Championship.

FH: It's easy I already told you it would be Rob Cole and Randy Acorn.

CL: That seems to be the overall opinion floating around the PVW
circle, but as you know anything can happen when you step inside that
ring.  Before we get started let's go backstage where Canadian Legacy
has just arrived.

FH: Good anytime we have a group of guys who want to trash talk those
circus clowns the Wildcards I am ready to listen.

[We cut back to the locker room assigned to the Canadian trio ... The
As the camera turns the corner we see the three men standing looking a
bit confused yet amused.  They A/C has obviously been cranked as cold
as it can get in the room.  The temp has been dropped below
freezing...allowing the room to be coated in snow ...

An igloo, three penguins, a minor league hockey player is inside the
room.  The Hockey player stands with a huge grin showing that he is
missing some teeth...  A big case of Labatt's Blue sit in the corner
and Celine Dion music is playing in the background, being piped in
from somewhere else in the building.

Across the back of the room, on a bed sheet the words "Home Sweet
Home, xoxoxo The Wild Cards" hangs.  Don Cameron walks over and stands
in front of the note and turns to his guys and says; "Feels like home
eh?" as we cut back to the announcers booth as the Texan fans roar in
laughter and cheers.]

FH: Those disrespectful son of a --

[Chip cuts Fred off.]

CL: Don't forget Fred we are now on prime time television.

FH: Have I told you how much I hate the Wild Cards?

CL: Not today.

FH: I hate them like "Too Cool" Chris Hopper hates a salad.

CL: Moving along ...  I can tell it's going to be one of those nights
with you Fred.

FH: Starting the night off with the Wild Cards high school humor
doesn't bold well for the night.

[The scene fades into the parking lot of the latest Phoenix Valley
Wrestling venue and we see various cars and trucks, some very
luxurious while others are, well, in not so good of shape.  As the
camera pans the area we see various members of personnel either
speaking with one another or attending various points of business.  As
this casual scene continues there is the sound of bass-thumping music
approaching the entrance of the parking structure.  A few members of
personnel stop talking and look towards the entrance to see exactly
who, or what, is the source of the bass-heavy thumping that steadily
approaches the entrance.  That very question is answered after a brief
moment as a black 2008 Lincoln Navigator with burgundy coloring
spelling out "CHITOWN” tastefully on either side with a hip-hop
appearance to it.  The license plate reads “SINSTR1" as it drives into
full view and we see behind the wheel the face of the man known as
Sinister to Phoenix Valley Wrestling.  The windows of the SUV are
rolled down the bass line of "A Milli" by Lil Wayne vibrates the chest
of every human being with a 20 foot radius.  A few of the personnel
members nod their heads in rhythm to the music while others roll their
eyes or shake their heads and return to their conversations.

Sinister, smiling ear to ear, nods his head to the rhythm of the music
as he slowly pulls the SUV into a parking spot near the edge of the
structure.  He turns the engine off but keeps the music on and dances
slightly while sitting and enjoying the music.  After thirty seconds
or so, he rolls up the windows, turns off the music and steps out of
the SUV, closing the door and activating the alarm.  He dons a pair of
black dress shoes, tan dress pants and a silk short-sleeved black
shirt that hangs open, revealing the knotted muscles on his upper body
with the exception of his back.  He smiles and flashes a peace sign to
the people who smile, wave or say that his sound system is great.
‘Swingin' Dean Hayes approaches Sinister while nodding his head to the
beat that, despite not playing anymore, is apparently still very fresh
in his young mind.  Dean Hayes knocks fists with Sinister and steps to
Sinister's right side]

Hayes: Hey big Sin, how are you doing brotha'?  That system is
knockin'!!

[Sinister chuckles a few times, deep and rich, truly amused and
flattered]

Sin: I'm doing all right brotha' and thanks for the compliment about
the system.  I know it's ridiculous and over the top to have that much
bass but hell, I'm allowed to have a little fun now and again, right?

Hayes: Hell yeah and that's my kind of fun!  I've got an iPod full of
beats that I'd like to hear in your Navi man!

Sin: Definitely brotha', just let me know and you can plug the iPod
right in and we'll roll with it.

Hayes: Sweet!  All right Sin, on to wrestling business.  Recently you
involved yourself in an ugly situation involving The Widow Makers
Incorporated, or WMI. I'd have to say that you definitely got their
attention. I wonder if you're worried about the repercussions they
have in store for you now that you have become a target on their
radar, so to speak?

[Sinister smirks quickly then nods his head slowly a few times while
rubbing his chin in thought]

Sin: Oh, believe me, I know there are going to be repercussions from
what I did to WMI.  The Made Men, Xavier Feyr and PRICK, oh excuse
me...[he quickly chuckles]...RICK Marley and the rest of the group of
chumps thought they were just going to do a number on Ryder, Craven
and Mercenary, as well as anyone else they've jumped before my
arrival. Suddenly the landscape has changed and they're scrambling
around like scared farm animals, uncertain as to what exactly to do.
I find it incredibly amusing that Rick Marley uttered the words
‘You're all dead men' and smirked about it.  Listen up and listen
close Marley.

[Sinister peers intently into the camera with a look of menacing
intensity in his dark brown eyes.  He takes a few deep breaths, his
nostrils flaring slightly, and is unwavering as he continues]

Sin: Dead man Rick? I truly can not tell you how many times I have
been told that I would be a dead man for my actions. I can not tell
you how many times I have very nearly died at various points of time
in my life. The bottom line of it all is this Marley.  I'm still
standing here, still breathing, and still able to beat the arrogant
piss right out of your vile carcass!  Send your pack of hyenas against
me and see what happens.  Sure, there will be a time when all of you
sorry asses do a Pearl Harbor job on me and that's fine by me.  Why
you ask? It shows me just how truly pathetic you collection of
scrotums really are!  You can't stand up like men, fight like men and
handle business like men!  You HAVE to have the numbers game and
that's a damn shame in and of itself.  I know in the back of your
minds that you are simply and truly afraid of battling against me one
on one because, well, I'm a different animal, if you will.  Maybe I
can convince Made Men to battle against me and a partner in a tag team
match? We'll see.  The bottom line is this DJ Hayes.  Anytime any of
those pathetic asses wants to battle me, all they have to do is simply
ask.

Hayes: All right Sinister, I appreciate the time and I know you are
anxious to get inside and speak with a few folks so I won't keep you
any longer.  I'm sure we'll be speaking a lot more as the time passes
so you take it easy and I'll catch you with my iPod.

[Both men laugh as the camera fades out]

CL: Big Daddy Sin is in the arena and ready to roll.

FH: Don't worry Sin the Widowmakers are here and you'll get your fight
soon enough.

CL: I am sure you are correct.  Herk Douglas is inside the ing and
ready to announce the first match!

CL: Up next we have what should be a tag team war.

FH: Can't argue with you there Chip.  The Killing Machines would like
to put some hurt on the Made Men and...

[Obsession by Animotion begins to play throuhout the arena as "Lady"
Laurel  Levinger makes her way down to the announcer's table.]

CL: Why is she coming down here?

FH: I dunno.  Maybe she still has a thing for Wright.

CL: I think that was the other way around.

LL: Good evening gentlemen.  I've been asked to come out and help with
color commentary for this match.  It seems that the higher ups think
it will liven things up.

CL: Well Ms. Levinger it will be our honor.

["Lady" Laurel just glares at Chip.]

FH: Forgive him "Lady" Levinger.  He'll learn his place soon enough.

LL: No problem.  I plan to really enjoy this beating.

CL: Well it looks like this one is going to be starting now...

["Enter Sandman" by Metallica begins to play over the loudspeakers.
The crowd cheers loudly.]

HERK DOUGLAS: About to enter the ring, from New York, New York, at a
combined weight of five-hundred and five pounds, here are ...

... OVERKILL...
...DEMOLISHER...
... THE KILLING MACHINES ! ! !

["Midnight" Jawaad bin Mahmood first comes out during the opening
chords of "Enter Sandman". He is dressed in a long black leather
jacket, with his "NICW" t-shirt underneath. He also has a black
bandana on his head. He pauses at the top of the entrance ramp, the
raises both of his fists up. Two red balls of flame suddenly go up as
the music kicks into high gear and Overkill and Demolisher suddenly
appear behind Mahmood! The three slowly walk to the ring, looking
forward with purpose. Mahmood jaws with the fans a little. They are
wearing matching sunglasses, black leather biker jackets, gloves,
boots, and tights. Their tights are mainly black, with a few white
markings for decoration, and the name of each wrestler emblazoned on
the right leg. As they enter the ring, they remove their jackets and
shades. Jawaad Mahmood then raises up the arms of both men, and then
they start pacing around the ring, waiting for their opponents. "Enter
Sandman" dissipates.]

HD: And their opponents, weighing a combined 455 pounds... "Pokerface"
Mark Masterson and Nick "Always" Wright... the Made Men!!!

[Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Johnny Kick A Hole In The Sky" hits the PA
system as the fans begin to boo.  Masterson exits backstage and takes
a position in the center of the entrance platform.  He looks down, and
raises his fists into the air, accompanied by flashbang-style
pyrotechnics.  Behind him, Nick comes bursting onto the entrance
stage.  Visibily pumped, he solicit reactions from the crowd.  The two
make their way to the ring side by side focused on the task ahead.
Masterson rolls inside the ring rolling his neck as Nick Wright
perches on the nearest turnbuckle, beating his chest.  Nick
catches sight of Levinger and just stares.]

LL: Be still my beating heart.  I think he noticed me.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

        Tag Team, 15 Minute Time Limit:
        Killing Machines
        v. Made Men

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]


*DING!* *DING!* *DING!*


CL: It looks like the two big men are going to start this one off as
Wright and Overkill head to the corners.

FH: Well considering that Overkill is almost Masterson's size it's
hard to say the big men.

CL: Masterson looks like he's challenging Demolisher to a test of
strength.

FH: This could be interesting Demolisher is a big guy, but Masterson
is stronger than he looks.

[The two men approach and lock hands.  After a moment of struggling
the size advantage of Demolisher starts to pay off as he gets the
uppper hand.]

CL: Not the best move by Masterson to challenge someone THAT much
bigger than him to a...



"___THUUUD___"



[Wright rushes into the ring and catches Demolisher with a chop block
to the back of the knee.]

FH: What were you saying Chip?  Did you forget this was a TAG team
match?

LL: I had a feeling that Nick liked to come at men from behind.

CL: Maybe I just wasn't expecting the Made Men to go for cheap tactics
this early.

FH: Cheap tactics?  That was brilliant!

CL: Masterson keeps a grip on Demolisher pulls him with an Irish whip
into a knee to the gut.  Not wasting time he does it again.

FH: Time for what the Widowmakers do best... hurt people!

CL: Tag by Masterson as he moves back over to Demolisher and applies
an abdominal stretch.

[Wright runs in and lands a dropkick in Demolisher's exposed
abdominals.]

FH: Well Demolisher and Overkill like drinking so I guess the Made Men
wanted them to have a Five-Pack for the road!

CL: Masterson releases Demolisher and he falls to a knee.

FH: Now we get to see what Wright can do.

CL: Wright up behind Demolisher and rakes the back.


*** BOOS ERUPT FROM THE CROWD ***


FH: They don't know what they're saying Nick.  Let him have it!

LL: Look Fred, are you actually trying to say that watching Nick
Wright scratch another man should get the crowd cheering?

FH: Well... um...

CL: Okay.  Wright comes around to the front of Demolisher and plants a
hard kick across his face that straightens him up.

[Wright points over to Levinger before bouncing off the ropes and
running back at the hunched over Demolisher.]

FH: He's going for your boy's move "Lady" Levinger.  It's time for the
Stepping Stone!


***FACE POP***



"___BOOOOOM___"



***HUGE FACE POP***



CL: Wright tried, but Demolisher wasn't out of it enough and got
caught with a monster chokeslam.

LL: Well it does take talent to pull off that move.  I mean the
Stepping Stone, not getting crushed by a choke slam.

CL: Wright back up to his feet, but Demolisher right there with a big
kick to the head.

FH: The Made Men have been doing their job though as Demolisher is
still trying to shake the cobwebs out.

CL: Demolisher goes to whip Wright to the ropes...

FH: But Nick manages to reverse the throw and runs to the other side!

CL: Demolisher makes the blind tag as he and Wright both bounce of
opposite ropes.



"___SMAAACK___"



FH: That was not a legal tag!

LL: Actually, that spinning heel kick from Overkill may have improved
Nick's face.

CL: Overkill drops an elbow on Wright and mounts his prone body.

LL: Yes!  Overkill lays into Wright with a series of fore arm strikes!

FH: Shouldn't you want Ryder to be doing that?

LL: Of course I would!  But sometimes you have to take what you can
get.

CL: Overkill climbs off of Wright and pulls him to his feet with a
handful of hair.

FH: Now I know you're not allowed to do that.  I've tried.

CL: Beautiful standing dropkick sends Wright crashing backwards into
the turnbuckle!

FH: Chip you may think this looks bad, but it's just giving Nick a
chance to catch his breath in the corner.

CL: Not for long as Overkill slams hard into Wright with a
shouldertackle in the corner.

[Overkill slams three more shoulder tackles into Wright as he is
propped in the corner.]

LL: Go to it Overkill!  Beat him like he owes you money!

[Both Chip and Fred just look over at Laurel.]

CL: Overkill grabs Wright under the arm and literally tosses Wright
out of the corner!

FH: Nick!  Make the tag buddy!



"___CRAAAACK___"



CL: Wright just getting to his feet when Overkill plants a solid
enzuigiri in the back of his head.  Overkill not wasting anytime as he
drags Wright to his corner with a handful of hair.

LL: I don't know why, but I could watch this all day.

CL: Overkill with a tag to Demolisher.  Demolisher wasting no time
getting to work on Wright as he repeatedly slams Wright's head into
the turnbuckle.

FH: Demolisher is making a huge mistake here as he allows Nick to walk
out of his corner.

CL: I think this is more like taunting Fred.  Wright is butter legged
and throwing random punches in the air.

FH: He'll pull it out.

LL: Or fall over and pass out.  I'm hoping for that second one.

CL: Demolisher runs to the opposite corner and hammers Masterson with
an elbow smash that sends him to the floor.

LL: Stay focused Demolisher!  You need to hurt Wright!

FH: And people say I'm biased.

CL: Demolisher tags in Overkill and moves back over to Wright.  He's
calling for a powerbomb!

FH: Overkill has gone to the top!  This doesn't look good!  Shake him
off Nick!

LL: Speak for yourself.  I've been looking forward to this.

[As Demolisher snatches Wright into the air for the powerbomb Overkill
leaps from the turnbuckle to land a flying clothesline at the same
time.]



"___SMAAASH___"



LL: Yes!  Good bye Nick Wright!

CL: The ref is going for the three!


ONE...


TWO...


THR...


[Masterson makes the save just before the ref counts three.]

CL: Overkill not being detered by Masterson, he pulls Wright to his
feet and just well... taunt him.

FH: Big mistake by Overkill.

CL: Overkill moves in on Wright and... Wow!  Wright fires a spinning
back fist that connects hard on Overkill.

FH: He managed to stagger Overkill with that one.

CL: Wright still doesn't have his legs though as he almost falls back
to  the mat.  Overkill shakes off the blow and moves back in.



"___WHUUUMP___"



CL: That was the ugliest armdrag that I have ever seen.

FH: But it worked!  Come on Nick, make him pay!

[Wright follows up his armdrag with a quick dropkick to the back of
Overkill's head.]

CL: Wright with a tag to Masterson and double thrust kicks as Overkill
gets to his feet sending him right back down to the mat!

FH: Now we get to see things come back together.

CL: Masterson snapmares Overkill and lands a hard kick to the back.

LL: Well Masterson is building momentum for his team, but Wright is
kneeling on the apron sucking wind.  I think we know whose carrying
this team.

CL: Overkill pulled to his feet by Masterson and whipped to the ropes.



"___WHAAAM___"



CL: Nice powerslam by Masterson.

FH: There is the offense I've been expecting from this team.

CL: Masterson is waiting for Overkill to get back to his feet.
Overkill blocks a punch thrown by Masterson and throws one of his own.

FH: Ha!  Masterson hooks him under the arm for a hiptoss!

CL: No.  Overkill tries in an inverted facelock.

[Masterson manages to twist around before Overkill can lock in the
dragon sleep.  He pulls his head free and pins Overkill's arms to his
sides.]

CL: Big belly-to-belly suplex by Masterson ends Overkill's attempt at
a comeback.

FH: My boys are finally on a roll.

CL: Masterson steps outside to the apron and pulls himself over for a
flip legdrop!



"___CRAAAASH___"



CL: Overkill rolls out of the way and Masterson crashes and burns!

[Overkill gets to his feet and begins to work his way to his corner
while Wright comes in to stop him.]

FH: He's not going to make it!  Wright's got him.



"___CRAAACK___"



CL: He might have if he had seen that elbow coming.  And Overkill
makes the tag to Demolisher!

FH: Wait Masterson is back into the fray and knocks Overkill to the
floor from behind.

CL: Demolisher in but he has to deal with both of the Made Men by
himself! He obviously has plans as he press slams Wright hard to the
mat.  A lariat sends Masterson back first into the corner.

FH: And there's Nick taking out the knee again.

CL: He didn't take Demolisher out, but that High/Low leg sweep/ thurst
kick combo just did.

FH: They are wasting no time.  As Masterson rams Wright into the prone
Demolisher like a pole, before the ref sends Wright back to the
corner.

LL: Well I think I'm done here.  I'll head to the back before Tommy
starts to miss me.

FH: I guess she doesn't want to see the guys that beat up her boy
friend for a hobbie to pick up a win.

[Masterson whips Demolisher hard into the turnbuckle and runs in for a
big corner splash while Wright runs up the turnbuckle.]



***MONSTER FACE POP***



CL: Levinger jumped up on the apron and took out the legs of Wright.

FH: That's not all she did.  She held on to his ankles as she dropped
to the floor.  Even the toughest guy is going to feel that!

[Levinger flips Masterson off as she starts to run to the back.]

CL: Masterson is after Levinger!

FH: Bad move as Demolisher is recovering faster than Wright.  He's
tagged Overkill, but he's moving over to Wright.  Come on Nick!!!

CL: Overkill is moving to the same turnbuckle that Wright is hanging
from.

[Masterson closes in on Levinger when out of nowhere Tommy Ryder moves
in to spear Masterson.]



"___CRAAACK___"



FH: This is completely unfair!

CL: Ryder turned that spear into a German-suplex at the last second.
Masterson is laid out on the floor and Demolisher has Wright set up
for a superplex!



"___THUUUD___"



FH: No!  This is robbery.  The ref can't count this!

CL: I think he will.  We just seen the killing device as Overkill
nailed  the moonsault!


ONE...


TWO...


THREE!!!!

CL: Ryder and Levinger are smiling at the ring as they are heading to
the back holding hands and the Killing Machines get their hands lifted
in the  air for the victory!

FH: I hope they all enjoy this moment because I don't think that the
rest  of the Widowmakers will like this.

CL: The Killing Machines are on a major roll here in the PVW.  They
look to have their major face off with The Gutch and Livestock at
Boiling Point.  The Made Men can't be happy with this.

FH: Hell no they aren't!

CL: Either way what a match with two of PVW's top tag teams!

[We cut backstage where a sneaky PVW camera man happens to be near by
The Mercenary talking to someone, but the other person won't be seen.]

Merc:... Hey, for this kind of cash, anything can happen...Thanx. I'm
sure you'll get your money's worth.

[Merc turns away from the person he was talking to, and comes towards
the camera, stuffing a rectangular envelope into his Haliburton. As he
comes closer, we see that he's had better days... one of his eyes is
partially shut and turning a purplish yellow and there's a band-aid by
his left temple. Either he doesn't see the camera, or he doesn't care
because he just walks on by, not bothering to reprimand the cameraman
for catching this transaction on tape.]

CL: What was that about?

FH: Maybe it's an insurance claim after WMI beat the tar out of him
last week.

CL: The Mercenary apparently has been hired or something from the
looks of it.

FH: Maybe he will be SSN's new hitman.

CL: We can only hope not.

[The camera rounds a corner and arrives at Will Geddings' dressing
room. The mask is already on, a variety of ointments and creams
sitting on the table in front of him. Geddings spots the camera and
begins to speak.]

[Geds]: It's a pain, really. Applying all this...crap...every few
hours. I don't even really know what it is.

[An audible sigh]

[Geds]: It could always be worse, though. I could have been stabbed,
shot, or sent down a river in a box...(shaking his head)...it can
always be worse.

[Geds]: Always worse...but you know what truly is worse than physical
pain? The pain that comes with defeat. There's no cream that can take
that burn away...defeat stays with you always. Now...

[A chuckle]

[Geds]: Vandal is going to get the best of both worlds of pain,
ultimately...the physical and the agony of defeat...but what of Marcus
Manson? He's only done what he thinks is best for himself, right?

[Geds]: Men like him are a dime a dozen. I know how to kick the legs
out of the bully...you guy right at him. You stun him by showing that
his size doesn't scare you. That you're unphased by his imposing
demeanor. And then you defeat him and allow that defeat to be
indisputable.

[Geds]: Marcus Manson will suffer forever after tonight. He will carry
this loss with him everywhere he goes. He will have been out-performed
by a physically inferior opponent. I hope that the next time that he
and his...friends...elect to begin to impose their will, he will take
a moment and think about tonight and understand that he is, indeed,
utterly defeatable.

[Geds]: Long Live the King.

[Cut back to the ring]

HD: Ladies and gentlemen. the following is a first round bout in
the tournament to determine the NEW Phoenix Valley Wrestling WORLD
HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!!!!!!

## I can't believe the news today.. ##
## I can't close my eyes and make it go away.. ##

## How long.. How long must we sing this song.. ##
## How long? How loooooooong? ##

["Sunday, Bloody, Sunday" by Pillar blasts through the arena as
"The Blade" Justin Cruise steps out from the back to a huge pop from
the crowd.]

## Sunday Bloody Sunday... ##
## Sunday Bloody Sunday... ##

[He makes his way to the ring, slapping hands with the fans down the
aisle.]

## When the battles just begun.. ##
## There's many lost but tell me who has won.. ##

[Cruise walks up the ring steps, and climbs into the ring. Quickly, he
moves to the corner and climbs the turnbuckle, raising a single arm in
the air.]

HD: First. weighing in tonight at 225 pounds from Montreal,
Quebec by way of Canada;  This is THE BLADE. JUSTIN!!!!
CRUUUUUISE!!!!!  And his opponent.

[The lights dim to black as the booming intro of "Driven" by Sevendust
can beheard through the PA system.]

(stop the man)
From endin' up with all the chips so he can't
(promise him an only chance)
To have the freedom that's been takin' from me

[Mini Strobe lights rotating between blue and red flash up the
scaffolding, circling in the dark chaos of the darkened archway
illuminating the figure of a man standing in the darkness. The lights
begin flashing near the rampway off and on surrounding now the visible
figure of Larry Gionet before fading out again. Larry Gionet steps up
out onto the stage as loud fireworks shoot up in stereo bursts from
either side of the stage!  He looks across the sea of fans as a chorus
of boos resonate throughout the arena.]

(you - can - try - to - lift - your - head - no)
You fucked up with me now live with the truth
Find a reason to lie (try)

[Larry Gionet slowly walks to the ring as the boos become louder. He
wears his red and black half long tights with his name in red slash
lettering, black kneepads and black boots.  Without hesitation, he
just shrugs off the noise heard from the crowd.   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.  The fans become
a blur as he turns towards the ring]

Seems like it hasn't been long - I've given
(so much how could you hide)
You're sick with all the guilt you're never - forgiven
(you try to wash it away - wash it away)

[The music crashes around him as he heads for the ring steps. Climbing
the stairs, Gionet makes his way along the ring apron's edge. He looks
out across the rows of waving fans, and hand locked on the top rope,
steps inside with authority. Larry Gionet walks right across the ring
as he climbs the buckles and pounds his fists as the jeers continue
mercifully.]

(ask again) why all the dreams I had
Are now left broken
(punished for a wounded past)
Afraid to wake and find reality breathin
(why - has - life - been - taken - from - me)
I fucked up and now I live with the truth
With no reason to lie (I)

[Larry Gionet drops down, the blue turned to red lights flash across
the ring as he starts pulling on the ring ropes to test for give.
Charging through the shadows at breakneck speed, Gionet crashes into
the other side and skids to a halt in the center of the ring. Larry
raises both arms, one hand clamping his other wrist as he looks out
across the arena, cold blue eyes focused....]

Feel like it hasn't been long - I'm driven
(to keep myself alive)
You're sick with all the guilty you're never - forgiven
(you'll never wash it away - wash it away)

[The lights begin to rise as Gionet raises a fist into the air. A
striking electric guitar solo blares throughout the packed house
leading his entrance theme like the cold glare in Larry's eyes
streaming out across the arena. Gionet grates a thumb across his neck
signaling for his music to be cut.]

Announcer: Weighing in tonight at 235 pounds, from Stoughton,
Massachusettes.... this is LARRY!!!!!  GIIIIIIOOOOONET!!!!!!

FH: Larry Gionet is all business tonight, staring daggers across the
ring at the man who was dumb enough to hand pick this crippler as his
opponent!

CL: One thing you can not do is sell Justin Cruise short, Fred.  He's
had a storied history in this business, from Detroit on down through
the years he has been a popular and high profile wrestler in every
company he's been a part of.  One thing everyone here has to admit...
this is going to be a purists dream match between two of the finest
technicians in this company!

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

        One on One, World Title Tourney Match:
        Larry Gionet
        v. Justin Cruise

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

[The referee finishes checking both men over before calling for the
bell... both men circle and then suddenly slam into one another with
an aggressive collar elbow tie up!]

CL: Good lord, both men mean business... jockeying for position,
Headlock by Justin Cruise but Larry Gionet with an elbow to the small
of the back to loosen the hold and forces Cruise to the ropes... irish
whip, and Gionet for the clothesline but Cruise counters for a
swinging single arm DD... NO!!!!

FH: Gionet with a waistlock, counters the DDT attempt and hauls Cruise
up for a Northern lights... but Cruise twists behind and grabs Gionet
with a waistlock of his own!

[The sudden flurry of action slows down as Gionet tries to power out
of the waistlock, pulling Cruise's hands apart as each man struggles
against one another!]

CL: And Cruise with an elbow to the back of the neck!  That breaks his
hold on Gionet, but he pulls him back in... Gionet snaps his head
back!

FH: Cruise is seeing stars... that's one way to break a waistlock
also!

CL: Gionet turns on Cruise and chops him across the chest, irish whip
to the ropes.... Cruise slides between the legs, avoiding a
clothesline and Gionet spins to face him!  Hurricanrana, but Gionet
shoves him off and Cruise lands on his feet... Gionet with the roaring
elbow!  Right beneath the jaw staggers Cruise but Cruise off the ropes
and he catches Gionet with a dropkick on the rebound!

FH: They seem almost equal in that ring... everything one guy tries,
the other comes back with a move of his own.  I think they've been
scouting each other out!

[Neither man really able go gain advantage, so both circle one another
again as they size eachother up... and then collide with another
collar elbow!]

CL: Gionet with a rake to the eyes!  That's one way to get a quick
advantage, too... Kick to the midsection and he just plants a forearm
across the back! Another forearm!  Cruise drops to one knee, and
Gionet cinches him up and over with a suplex...

FH:  That's the way it's done in this part of the world!

CL: Gionet to his feet and hits the ropes...  plants a running Yakuza
Kick to the side of the head!

FH: Aggressive work from Larry Gionet... it's the kind of killer edge
we need to see from anyone looking to win the title in this tournament
to crown the new Champion!

CL: And there's a cross bow forearm to the back... another... and
another!  Gionet pulling Cruise to his feet... cinches him up and
hauls up, ricochet off the ropes into a vertical suplex!  Cover...



One...





Two...





Kickout!

FH: Gionet pulls Cruise to his feet again and drives a forearm across
the back!  Another! Cruise should've stayed behind the mask, Chip!
Gionet totally in control sends Cruise for another ride....

CL: Clothesline attempt, but Cruise ducks and hooks the arm... and
PLANTS Gionet with a DDT!!!!

[Huge pop as Cruise rolls to his feet... wincing at the tight muscles
in his back, and Larry Gionet shakes the cobwebs out. The crowd is
firmbly behind Justin Cruise.]

FH: What a great counter by The Blade... give credit where it's due, I
thought Gionet was going to breeze through the rest of this match but
Cruise with a beautiful counter!

CL: And he catches Gionet with a running elbow to the side of the
head! Chop to the chest!  Another chop forces Gionet back into the
corner!  He goes for the irish whip, but Gionet reverses...

[Cruise is sent into the corner and Gionet is close behind... The
Blade catches the top rope and springs up and over the rushing Gionet,
catching him from behind!]

CL: Release German suplex!!!!

FH: Someone tell these stupid fans to shut up...

CL: Gionet clutching the back of his head as he rolls to his feet...
and Cruise runs in with a knee lift!  Gionet rocked back to the ropes,
and Cruise with the irish whip!  Ducks down and Gionet sent to the mat
with a back body drop! He cinches Gionet... and drives him to the mat
with a DDT!  Cover...





One....





Two....







Kickout by Gionet!

FH: Larry isn't going to give up his quest for the championship that
easily!

CL: Cruise checking on the count speed, but the referee assures him it
was a legitimate count... and Cruise pulls Gionet to his feet.  Going
for the Russian leg sweep.... But Gionet blocks!  Spins out of the
hold... spinning back fist to the back of the neck!

[Cruise staggers forward... he fires back with an elbow that catches
Gionet below the jaw!  He follows it up with a kneelift, his eyes
growing dark with anger as he delivers a second kneelift! And this
time
he DRIVES him to the mat with a Russian leg sweep!]

FH: I think this is a new side of Justin Cruise, Chip... he's really
taking the fight to Larry Gionet right now!  He pulls him to his feet
and starts  chopping that chest hard!  WHOOOO!!!!

CL: There's a kick... but Gionet catches the leg... ENZIGURI!  He
catches him right behind the neck, and Gionet goes down hard!

FH: And a big mistake by Cruise... he pulls Gionet up for more
punishment instead of just going for the pin!

CL: He hoists Larry up... and drives him down with a beautifully
executied brainbuster!!!!

FH: Oh no... he's going to go for some flippy-floppy move now!

[The crowd is on their feet as Justin Cruise rushes the ropes, hits
the springboard off the second and his body arcs through the air to
land a picture perfect moonsault in the center of the ring!]



ONE!!!!!







TWO!!!!!









THR... NO!!!! Shoulder up!!!!

CL: Cruise pounds the mat hard as Gionet struggles to roll to his
side... Cruise yanks Gionet back to the mat and DRIVES his elbow down
across the jaw!  Again!!!  And again!  Here's another cover...

One!!!!







Two!!!







KICKOUT!!!!

FH: Gionet might've gotten woken up by those elbows... and Justin
Cruise might be letting the killer instinct get the best of him right
now!

CL: I thought you said that was what he needed!

FH: HE also needs to be smart about it, Chip!

CL: The fans are on their feet as Cruise pulls Gionet to his.... He
hauls him up and over the shoulders!  Here comes the Death Valley
Driver.... But Larry with an elbow to the jaw! Another elbow and he
shivers off The Blades' shoulders.... Sleeper hold, but Cruise with a
back elbow to break it up...

[Heel pop!!!!]

FH: And there's the back cracker!!!!  That's exactly how he started to
end one career here in PVW.... The blood is in the water again, and
the Shark is about to feed!

[Gionet rolls his neck, wincing at the damage done so far... but then
he notices that Cruise is getting to his feet and rushes forward with
a knee.]

CL: Two quick knees to the side of the head, and Gionet cinches The
Blade with a dragon sleeper!  He torques the neck... and DRIVES Cruise
down across the knee with a backbreaker!  He pulls him back to his
feet, arching the neck and back as Justin struggles to find some sort
of leverage...

FH: Blood in the water, my friend!

CL: And Gionet cuts Cruise down with a rolling cutter!!!!

[The fans are booing as Cruise clutches his neck and starts rolling in
agony... Gionet, covered in sweat and breathing hard, rises to one
knee and smiles as he watches Justin writhe in the ring.]

FH: And Larry Gionet is taking his time to collect himself after
Cruise's assault... taking measure of the Blade, and rushes in and
delivers a NICE yakuza kick to the head!

CL: It looks like the momentum of this match reversed itself entirely
with that back cracker.... and Larry Gionet, hauling the Canadian to
his feet and underhooking both arms!  Up... and he just drives Justin
Cruise back down across the knee with that tiger backbreaker!

FH: There's the target... consumate professional that he is, Larry
Gionet finds a body part and works it over! He digs those knees into
the back and pulls Cruise back with a japanese strangle hold!!!

CL: The referee checking the throat, and he starts a count on Larry
Gionet.... One... two.... three... four... and Gionet releases the
choke but the real damage was in those knees!

FH: Forcing Cruise to fight for breath allowed Gionet to apply more
pressure to the back, digging those knees in tight and putting severe
pressure on the vertebrae!

[Gionet rises to his feet and stands over Cruise for a moment,
measuring the man as he tries to gather his knees beneath him... he
reaches down and YANKS the legs back out and suddenly DROPS an elbow
across the small of the back!]

CL: Good lord!  Nothing fancy in that... just driving that elbow into
the small of the back! And he hauls up again... and drops another
elbow across the small of the back!  He twists that elbow in there and
finally steps back... and stomps down on the back again!  And back to
the Japanese strangle hold!!! Applying behind the neck, but keeping
that chin tucked to prevent the blatant choke....

FH: Referee in to check on a submission, but the Blade too dumb to
quit!


CL: The ropes are close enough to give him hope, but maybe too far to
reach... his fingers graze that top rope and he struggles to twist his
body!  He reaches out again....

[Justin manages to grab a rope, and the referee calls for another
break... which Gionet grants at the count of four!  The fans are
giving him real heat now... and he responds by paintbrushing the back
of Cruises' neck!]

CL: What the... ?  A total lack of respect from Larry Gionet as he
pulls Justin Cruise to his feet once again and SLAPS him across the
face! Fireman carry up on his shoulders!  This is sickening...  and he
hauls Justin Cruise up and over... INTO A BACKBREAKER!!!!  GOOD
LORD!!!!

FH: HAH!!!!

[Gionet stares out at the fans, and shakes his head at their
response... he turns and takes measure, stepping back to get some
momentum as Justin Cruise clutches at his back and manages to get his
knees beneath him.]

FH: Yakuza kick right out of this tournament... here he comes!

[It isn't pretty... but Larry Gionet rushes in for the yakuza kick
that could finally put out the lights on the championship aspirations
of Justin Cruise!  He rushes in... and Cruise manages to duck beneath
the foot, and snatches a hold of Gionet's other leg and shoves it
up!!!! FACE POP!!!!!]

CL: And Larry Gionet is sent rolling to the outside apron!!!
Desperation from Justin Cruise catches Gionet by surprise...

[Gionet is shaken on the ring apron.  Cruise hops up to the turnbuckle
and hits Larry with a dropkick sending him to the outside of the
ring!]

FH: Where the hell is Cruise getting this kind of energy?!?!!!

CL: Clutching his back, Cruise gets to his feet in the ring  as Gionet
gets to his! Cruise waits on the far ropes.

[Once Gionet is near the apron on the outside, Cruise takes off,
slides under the bottom rope, grabbing Gionet by the head, and rotates
him driving him into the floor with a Baseball Slide DDT!!!]

FH: And this purists dream match spills to the outside, thanks to the
likes of Justin Cruise!  Look at the despicable fans at ringside...
cheering this kind of barbaric tom-foolery!

CL: Did you just say "tom-foolery"?!?!!!

FH: Shut up and call the match!

CL: Cruise a little gingerly testing his back as he paces outside the
ring... he grabs a hold of Larry Gionet and rolls him into the ring!

[Not quite.... he rolls him part way, and then drives an elbow onto
the exposed neck of Gionet!  The fans love it, and Cruise grabs a hold
of Gionet's head and yanks it out of the ring again... and drives a
second elbow!]

CL: There's that killer edge you were talking about, and Justin Cruise
heads back into the ring... stomp the back of the head!  Another
stomp, and Justin Cruise pulls Larry Gionet to his feet...

FH: Gionet with a slap across the face!

CL: And one from Cruise!

[Gionet with a chop of his own across the chest, and Cruise answers
with one of his!  Gionet fires back again!  And Cruise delivers the
same! The crowd gets into it, "whoo!" with each chop... both men going
at one another, tit for tat!  A series of chops from Cruise backs
Gionet against the ropes.... and Gionet fires back with his own chops,
backing Cruise up to the opposite side of the ring! Both chests are
flaming red at the end of the exchange....]

CL: Back and forth, nobody can say these two men don't want that gold
around their waists!  The Blade fires back with a forearm beneath the
jaw...

FH:  But Larry cuts off the Canadian with a rake of the eyes....
Pushes him against the ropes and whips him off!

CL: But Justin Cruise with the breaks and he reverses it... and drags
Larry into a HARD kneelift!  Gionet doubled over... and Cruise hauls
him up for the powerbomb!!!!

[The crowd gets on their feet... but Gionet rolls to his side before
going down, and locks his legs around The Blades' arm and drags him
down with a triangle choke!]

FH: Shooting for the choke, and Justin Cruise struggling to keep on
his feet!

CL: The referee is warning Gionet about the throat... but Justin
Cruise hauling Gionet up again!!!  Look at the strength and power and
heart of Justin Cruise!

[Cruise, his arm still grapevined for the triangle... DRIVES Gionet
down!  It breaks the hold, and Cruise picks Gionet up again... and
drives him down with a second powerbomb!!!!]

CL: He might have it.... He shakes that arm loose and hooks the
legs... he's turning Gionet over.... HE HAS IT LOCKED IN!!!!!

FH: NO!!!!! Come on, Larry... don't tap out!!! DON'T TAP OUT!!!!

[The crowd is on their feet as Justin Cruise angles most of the Cruise
Control on the neck of Larry Gionet, keeping the man's arm trapped by
the angle.... Gionet's face is awash with pain and the arena is
absolutely on fire!]

CL: In the center of the ring... this could be the move that brings
the gold home to Canada for Justin Cruise!  The fulfillment of all his
hopes and dreams since he laced those boots up...

FH: But he has to make Gionet tap out, and Larry is not the kind of
man to just quit when the going gets rough... he makes the going
rougher!

[Gionet isn't out of it... he continues to strain, his body trembling
from the agony of Cruise Control!  He finally manages to twist himself
enough so that the hold doesn't keep his arm trap... and then Justin
forces the pressure to the back as he lowers his stance on Larry
Gionet!]

CL: Gionet crying out... defying the pain, defying the agony, defying
the fans in the arena tonight as he ... I don't believe it... he
pushes up!  He's going to try and break the hold, Fred!

FH: It's the kind of fighter he is, Chip!  Never say die, never quit!
Look at the muscles cording in his shoulders... he's inches from the
ropes now!

[The inches grow shorter as he begins to drag his body towards the
ropes, and finally reaches.... But falls short!!!  The fans are on
their feet... and Gionet reaches again... and GRABS THE BOTTOM
ROPE!!!]

FH: Come on, Justin... you have to let him go now!

CL: Justin Cruise frustrated... he throws down the legs and shakes his
head at the referee, sick of this match and sick of the fortitude of
Larry Gionet!

[He yanks Gionet to his feet and SHOVES him back into the corner....
He signals and climbs the the second rope, hooking Gionet's head!]

CL: Here comes the Tornado DDT!!! This is it!!!!

[Cruise leaps and spins... and suddenly, Larry has a hold of Justin
Cruises' hips and arches his back at the last possible second!]

CL: GOOD LORD!!!! NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX FROM NOWHERE!!!!

FH: Referee down for the count...





ONE!!!!!







 TWO!!!!!!!









THREE?!?!!!!

[The referee calls for the bell just as Justin Cruises shoulder' comes
up off the mat!  Gionet rolls to the side and rises to both knees as
Cruise rolls to his own feet... shaking his head in shock as the
referee raises Gionet's hand!]

HD: The winner of this match... and advancing to the
quarterfinals of this tournament.... LARRY!!!!!
GIIIIIIIIIOOOOOOONET!!!!!!

CL: We have the first man advancing into the semifinals... Larry
Gionet!  What a match though.  Justin Cruise apparently has knocked
most if not all that ring rust off.

FH: Gionet the one man Rob Cole respects finds himself just one match
away from a shot at the PVW World Heavyweight Championship.

[We cut backstage where PVW officials, road agents, and even some
talent have gathered with Alamo Championship Wrestling alums;
"Overkill" Joey Malone, Brick Rosen, Adam "The Dragon" Drake, Jamie
Kidd, and wrestling veteran Tom Landis. Jack Britain PVW's head of
talent is seen shaking the hand of Jamie Kidd.]

JB: So these are the kids Tom?  It's good to meet you guys.  I've been
hearing a lot of good things about ACW.

TL: Thanks Jack, and thanks again for the tour and letting us come
visit tonight.  PVW's the talk of the wrestling world these days and I
wanted to help out some of our guys to maybe get a foot in the door,
or a tryout maybe?

JB: You know we are always keeping our eye on talent.  Hey, why don't
you drop off a few of the DVD's and we will see what we can do.  In
the meantime I have assigned you guys some front row tickets to enjoy
the show here tonight.

[Thank-You's are heard from the young hungry wrestlers, and one by one
they shake Britain's hand.  Tom is last, and puts an arm around the
Head Of Talent's shoulders.]

TL: Thanks a bunch, Jack.  There's no better way to learn your craft
than to see some of the best and brightest up close like that. [grins]
Besides, us old-timers have to stick together, you know.

JB: You bet Tom.  It's good seeing you again.  We will check those
DVD's out and you never know, maybe one of these guys here will be the
next hot thing in PVW!

[We cut back to announcers booth.]

FH: Oh great just what PVW needs ... Hot headed Texans.

CL: PVW is becoming one of the hot places to be in the wrestling world
today.  It's nice to see them extending a hand in looking at some
local indy talent as they travel the globe.

FH: Tom Landis is still around?  Isn't that guy washed up by now?

[As members of WMI turn the corner, they come to a long corrider...
where Rob Cole stands at the opposite end, a machete in one hand as he
stares down at the stable members.  He's smiling... licking his
chops... and lifts the machete in a partial salute.]

RC: I think we need to chat... Ricky boy, I hope you can keep a leash
on your new pets while I say what I need to.  Mind you... I don't mind
a pissing match, but it's not really in any of our interests.  Is it?

[Cole angles his head... staring down the hall at the other men.]

RC: I'm here about my match tonight... call me greedy, call me
selfish, call me whatever you want... but Tommy Ryder and his little
lady belong to me tonight.  Tomorrow?  I don't care what you do with
him... what you do with her... shove them both down Craven's throat
for all I care, but they are all mine tonight.  You kids have enough
psychos to deal with on a weekly basis... I don't care if you've got
sense enough to be scared, but you don't need to taunt happy fun ball.
Some of us are going to wind up dancing sooner or later... best to
settle your personal business with Craven before you step in my
nightmare.  Tommy Ryder belongs to me... if I see any of you at
ringside, if you decide to put your stamp on that kid before I'm done,
if you even show your faces AFTER I'm done... I'm going to take that
as an insult.  No... I'm going to take it as a lack of respect.
Now... I've never gotten involved in your little party, never
come runnin' down that aisle to swing on you kids, and I never had a
reason to cross you before.  Don't give me one, Ricky. That's all I
have to say.

[Marley puts out an arm, hoping to forestall any of the other members
of WMI of picking a fight they don't need...yet.  A slow smile
spreading across his face.]

RM: Y'know, there was a time when you just saying that would not only
bring down a world of hurt, but pretty much guarantee that we'd do
something bad to both you AND Ryder during your match.

[Marley holds up a finger to his lips.]

RM: But right now I don't see the need.  You want the kid...you got
him.  Not because we're scared, Rob...you don't rank that highly.
It's just good business sense.  What we want to see in return is a
grade A beatdown on little Tommy.  Hurt him bad.  That way everybody
wins and..hell...maybe you'll see us again before its all over.

If you end up standing alone at the end, I KNOW you'll be seeing
me...soon.

[Cole chuckles a bit and nods... he salutes once again with his
machete.]

RC: Fair enough, Rick.  Have a nice night.

[Marley nods back in response as the scene fades.]

CL: Wow .. That would be nice the Widowmakers keeping their nose out
of Ryders business for once.  What a _noval_ idea.

FH: Watch the sarcastic tone there Chip.  You never know what
Widowmaker enforcer is paying attention.

CL: Well if they are then they should know that a lot of people are
getting fed up with them sticking their nose where it doesn't belong.

FH: Ouch you have a death wish?

CL: Herk Douglas is re-entering the ring so our debate will have to
live another time.

[The lights are dim, with 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 to the ring.

Clad in full length black tights, red kneepads, 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: We're back, and we have a contrast of styles in our next match...

FH: Likely to have a contrast in conciousness as well; as in one is
and the other isn't.

[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 already in the ring, and we await the presence of
Will Geddings.

FH: Or whichever personality of his decides to show up.  He's the
Cybil Sheppard of this generation.

[As the low strains of "Rooster" fade to nothing, "Halloween" by Dave
Matthews Band begins to a good pop. Will Geddings emerges from
backstage, dressed in his Victory Lane mask and his "Eagle Claw"
pants. Geddings walks  slowly towards the ring and slaps a few hands.
The fans cheer for him as he goes.]

CL: Geddings still wearing that mask, to cover the damage done by
Vandal Gomez and that fire.

FH: I don't know why Geddings was so upset about.  It's not like
Vandal NEEDED the fire to mess up his face.  It was just a helpful
time saver.

CL: We saw Geddings getting some sort of treatment applied to his face
earlier, because he and everyone else knows what Manson will be
targeting here.

FH: Just wait until you see what Manson applies to his face.

[Geddings rolls underneath the bottom rope and looks around the
arena... at least until Manson enters his personal space.  Geddings
immediately backs off, pointing referee Jay O'Riley to get him back.
Manson stays near center ring as Geddings heads to one of the
turnbuckles and has a seat on top, waiting for the beginning of the
match.

The music dies down, and we get the introductions old-school style,
with both men in their corners.]

HD: THE FOLLOWING CONTEST IS SET FOR ONE FALL, WITH A FIFTEEN MINUTE
TIME LIMIT!

INTRODUCING FIRST, TO MY LEFT... FROM PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA...
WEIGHING TWO-HUNDRED NINETY-FIVE POUNDS...

                ... M A R C U S     M A N S O N  !  !


[The fans boo (well, there are some "heels are cool" cheers also), and
Manson points threateningly at Geddings.  Since Geddings is wearing a
mask, we can't see his expression, but he waves it off dismissively.]

HD: AND HIS OPPONENT... FROM FLORENCE, SOUTH CAROLINA... WEIGHING TWO
HUNDRED FIFTEEN POUNDS...

                ..."F L Y K I N G"   W I L L   G E D D I N G S  !  !


[The fans cheer for Geddings, who briefly acknowledges with a wave,
but who seems more intent on whether or not Manson is going to rush
him.  Jay O'Riley calls for the bell.]



[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

        One on One, 15 Minutes Time Limit:
	Will Geddings
        v. Marcus Manson

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]


*DING!* *DING!* *DING!*

CL: Size and power versus speed and technique here, and... we have a
standoff already!

[Geddings has both feet on the top rope now, ready to leap.  Manson
approaches slowly, with that gloved right fist cocked back... daring
Geddings to jump!]

FH: Will Geddings is a known coward.  He won't jump.

CL: Manson getting closer... GEDDINGS JUMPS!

[As Geddings leaps, Manson swings... but the big punch connects with
nothing as Geddings leaps over Manson's head, ending up behind him!
Not to be so easily evaded, Manson immediately swivels with a huge
clothesline, as his veteran wiles expected such a move.  But Geddings
is no longer there... upon landing, he immediately tucked and rolled
backwards... maneuvering himself behind Manson once again!]

FH: Hey!

CL: Geddings outmaneuvers Manson!  The Flyking hops onto the second
rope... SPRINGBOARD KNEESMASH TO MANSON'S NECK!  He got him right in
the base of the skull, and Manson is down!

FH: Lucky shot, but it'll take a lot more than that to get out of this
match alive!

[Geddings rubs at his mask briefly, before firing off a kick to the
head of a rising Manson.]

CL: Geddings is surprisingly aggressive early, but he has to keep
moving or that aggression will get him in big trouble. Geddings
swooping in, BIG SWINGING NECKBREAKER!  He caught the "Misery Machine"
as he was getting to his feet, and put him back down.

FH: If Geddings can keep Manson down all match... ha, that's too
absurd to even contemplate.  He's just going to piss Manson off and
get himself smeared into red paste this way.

CL: Geddings locking in a front facelock.  That's a good weardown
hold, but Manson is too big and strong to hold down! Manson is
standing up with Geddings locked on... he lifts Geddings clean up off
the mat, and throws him halfway across the  ring!

FH: He landed on his feet!  Just like a cockroach!

CL: Don't you mean a cat?

FH: I'd hardly confuse a cockroach with a cat.

CL: Manson rushes Geddings, who leapfrogs him!  And clearing that big
man is a feat! Geddings with a spinning heel kick staggers Manson!
Geddings looking great early, but I see that his facial burns are
bothering him.

FH: He can't let that distract him, or... that'll happen.

CL: MANSON FINALLY CONNECTS!  Geddings tried to follow in with a
dropkick, but Manson lunged at him and nailed him in the  side of the
head with a double-axehandle blow!  Geddings falls, and Manson drops
to his knees to pound away with some big punches right to the burn
area!

FH: He better hope that crap he put on his face earlier was the best
painkiller this side of morphine, or he won't know his own name after
this.  Then again, he seems to have trouble with that often enough as
it is.

CL: Manson dragging Geddings up, shortarm... OOF!

FH: Did you see that?  That wasn't a normal clothesline, he wound up
and clubbed Geddings across the face!  Brutal!

CL: Marcus Manson is as vicious as anyone.  In PVW, there are a lot of
big, nasty monsters running around, and I'd love to see Manson go up
against any of them.  Craven and Sinister are a couple that come to
mind.

FH: I'd love to see Will Geddings go up against a belt-sander.  I bet
Vandal Gomez would be happy to make that happen.

CL: ...

FH: Manson with a running start... big kneedrop!  Throwing all two-
ninety-five into it, and Geddings is in danger! Then again, he's the
dummy that signed on to fight Marcus Manson with a burnt face.
You know, Manson acts like a perfectly normal human being... he's not
overtly crazy like some guys.  But he's a sadist.  He loves to make
people suffer.  Geds should never have signed that match contract.

CL: You're not going to make it to the kinds of places Will Geddings
wants to go by ducking people.

FH: Or by having your face pulled off.

CL: Manson lifting Geddings up.  Headlock applied, and with Geddings'
injury, this becomes a much more effective move. You can hear him from
here!

FH: There's no need for Manson to get too cute when his opponent has
severe facial burns.  The basics will work just fine... ah, like this
fine Greco-Roman face burn on the ropes.

CL: Thank goodness for Geddings' mask, as Manson rubbing his face down
the top rope! And it is still causing him pain!

FH: Yeah, well, they don't make wrestling masks out of aloe.

CL: Manson drops to one knee and spikes Geddings' face into his other,
outstretched knee!  Unusual maneuver there, and Manson now in total
control... HE'S GOING FOR THE MASK!

[The fans begin to get loud as Manson tries to untie the Victory Lane
mask. Geddings, on his hands and knees, slaps weakly behind his
head,and then bolts upright when he realizes what Manson is trying to
do.]

FH: Ugh!  Don't do it, Marcus!  I never was a fan of Nightmare On Elm
Street; I don't need to see Freddy's lookalike!

CL: Geddings fighting back, throwing some shots to the ribs of Manson,
but those have no effect.  Manson fires back with a punch to the face,
sending Geddings into the ropes.  The Flyking bounces back...and nails
Marcus with a stiff forearm!  That one got his attention!

FH: He practically smiled; I'm not sure if that's really the attention
he wants.

CL: Manson fires a knee into the ribs... Geddings flips over the
knee... SCHOOLBOY ROLLUP!

FH: Not even a one-count!

CL: Geds wasn't going for a pin, he was clearing some space.  Manson
gets up... dropkick to the midsection doubles the "Misery Machine"
over, and Geddings mule kicks him in the face from the mat!  Slick
combo by Geddings, who is trying to mount some offense!

FH: Good idea, since all that "taking a beating" stuff wasn't working
out so well.

CL: Geddings sticking and moving.  He's firing away at Manson, but
those blows aren't having any effect.

FH: If he plays it right, he can set him up...

CL: Manson whiffs a big roundhouse, and Geddings dives at him with a
clothesline!  He wrapped his head up and took him down, and the
Flyking is taking advantage!  He's going up to the second rope...
MISSILE DROPKICK TO THE RIBCAGE! He caught Manson coming up, and
that'll keep the "Misery Machine" on the mat!

FH: Marcus is in good shape, but if Geddings can knock the wind out of
him and make him move, he'll tire far sooner than Geds will.

CL: Geddings now jumping up and down with both feet on Manson's
stomach!  A vicious tactic by Geddings!  You're right, he's trying to
do just that... drive the wind out of Marcus Manson.  Manson rolls
over, and Geddings clamps on a rear naked choke!  Geds got Manson to
set himself up for it... and now the size discrepancy means nothing!

FH: Size always matters, Chip.  Geddings has him down, but how is he
going to keep him down?

CL: Manson struggling to his feet.  You can see his face turning red
fast... he's got to get Geddings off of him.

FH: I'm still trying to figure out why this move is legal.

CL: It's not.  Jay O'Riley checks to see if the forearm is on the
throat and it is, so he's applying a count.  Manson was able to use
sheer power to get to his feet with Geds on his back... and he's not
going to wait for a break! Manson rushes the corner, and... GEDDINGS
MOVED!  Manson tried to hit the corner back-first to sandwich him, but
Geds released the hold and Manson hit the turnbuckles hard!

FH: Now that'll hurt him!  Geddings can't hit him as hard as he can
hit himself!

CL: Geds jumps up on him... big monkey flip out of the corner!  He
elevated the two-hundred ninety pound Machine, and now Geddings has
full control of the match!  Manson up, and goes after Geddings... too
slow to the draw, as Geddings uncorks a flying forearm that puts
Manson down again!

FH: Uh, oh!  Manson's too aggressive!  Geddings was hitting the gut
and choking for a reason.  He'll blow himself up if he keeps getting
up fast and rushing in!

CL: I think that is what is happening!  Manson a step too slow as he
gets up and heads for Geddings again, and a deep armdrag sends him
down!  The speed and agility of the Flyking is going to be too much
for Manson if he gets worn down like this!

[Geddings stops for a moment, clutching at his mask... and then goes
right back at it.]

FH: Something's wrong with him.  Did he not check the manufacturer's
warning on his mask or something?

CL Geddings hesitates a bit... rebounds off the ropes with a flying
bodypress...caught by Manson!

FH: Swat the fly!

CL: Manson lifts Geddings up...presses him overhead with ease!  Geds
way up in the air... GEDDINGS SLIDES AWAY!  INVERTED DDT ON THE WAY
DOWN!  HE SNATCHED MANSON WITH A SUDDEN COUNTER AND DROVE HIM TO THE
MAT!

FH: That was the fatigue!  Manson had to stop and catch his breath
before throwing him down!

CL: Manson is down and hurt, and Geddings is going upstairs!  Top
rope... Manson almost three-quarters of the way across the ring...

[Flashbulbs pop, and so does the crowd as Will Geddings soars across
the ring!]

FH: NO!

CL: BEAUTIFUL FLYING ELBOW BY GEDDINGS CONNECTS RIGHT ACROSS THE
STERNUM OF MANSON!  GEDDINGS WITH THE COVER...


ONE...









TWO...



[CROWD: AWWWWWW!]


FH: MANSON KICKS OUT, AND SENDS GEDDINGS SIX FEET IN THE AIR!

CL: That was the epitome of kicking out "with authority"!  Geds has to
move fast to keep the momentum.  He rushes back at Manson...
somersault legdrop to the back of the head as Manson tries to get up!
Geddings clutching his face yet again... you think that stuff he put
on the burns may have done more harm than good?

FH: What, Will Geddings make a careless stupid decision?  Noooo.

CL: Geddings back over to Manson, and hooks the arms... GOING FOR THE
_EAGLE CLAW_!

FH: Good luck with that.

CL: Geddings leaps... and Manson doesn't go with him!  The Flyking
trying for that jumping doublearm DDT, but Marcus Manson puts on the
brakes... and back body drops him away!

FH: It was too early for that!  You can get Manson winded this early
in a match, sure, but he's not so out-of-shape as to be totally out of
gas.  You have to know he's got your finisher scouted.

CL: Geddings back up, and Manson grabs him... IRON CLAW!  THE IRON
CLAW TO THE HEAD OF WILL GEDDINGS, AND GEDDINGS IS SCREAMING IN PAIN!

FH: BRILLIANT!  This is the perfect move to use against Geddings!
Manson can get his wind back while torturing Geddings... this has to
be a legitimate submission threat with those burns the way they are!

CL: Geddings fires off some punches to try and get loose, but again,
that does nothing to Manson!  Geddings falls  backwards, and now
Manson has him in serious jeopardy.  Geddings howling as the clawhold
is applied... look at Manson!

FH: I told you!  He feeds on it!  That's why they call him the "Misery
Machine"... he's a miserable human being and he wants everyone else to
be miserable as well.  Of course, Geds is a miserable human being too,
but that's an entirely different definition of the word...

CL: Geddings reaching behind his head... what is he...?

FH: He's nuts.  Pay his actions no mind.

CL: Geddings... SLIPS FREE!  BUT MANSON HAS HIS MASK!

[Shocked crowd pop!]

FH: OH MY HEART!  THE HORROR!  THE HORROR!

CL: Manson standing and holding the mask aloft... showing everyone
that he's demasked Geddings!  But I don't think he's noticed that Geds
had a second mask on underneath!  The gauze he had under there was
covering it!

FH: Are you SURE that is a mask?

CL: It's bright orange, of course it is a mask!

FH: So is burnt flesh... uhm, after you go to one of those spray
tanning salons.

CL: Geddings ditched the first mask to escape the Iron Claw!  Manson
turns around as Geddings runs at the ropes... SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT
BODYPRESS!  GEDDINGS WRAPS THE LEGS!

[The crowd cheers as Geddings neatly cradles Manson for the pin!]


ONE...









TWO...








[CROWD: YEEEEAAAA...AWWW!]


CL: TWO-AND-NINE-TENTHS, BUT MANSON POWERS OUT!

FH: And he cannot be happy about that little trick by Geddings.

CL: Geddings backs up... side kick to the head!  BUT MANSON SHRUGS IT
OFF AND CLOTHESLINES GEDDINGS OUT OF HIS BOOTS!

FH: Nope.  Sorry.  Try and kick someone a little less pissed off in
the face next time.

CL: Geddings went to his rarely-used martial arts playbook for that
one, but Manson is furious!

FH: And thus ends the competitive portion of this match, ladies and
gentlemen.

CL: We'll see... Manson bends down to get Geds... INSIDE CRADLE... no!
Geddings tried an inside cradle, but Manson fell forwards onto him and
hooked in a body scissors!  Manson pounding away with lefts and rights
on Geddings, whose  arms are also trapped in the scissorhold!  He's
defenseless!

FH: This won't last long.  Unless, of course, Manson keeps punching
Geds after he passes out.

CL: O'Riley putting on a count, and it looks like that's the only
thing that'll stop Manson!  He's hammering away, and  I think Geddings
is... yelling something.

FH: Hey, look how helpful Marcus is.  He's putting Geddings' other
mask back on for him.

CL: Sideways!  Manson just slid the Victory Lane mask back on
Geddings' head sideways, and tied it on!  Geddings is blinded!

FH: Besides, whoever wants to see the end coming?  That just makes it
worse.

[The fans boo this trick, but even after the scissorshold is
relinquished, Geddings doesn't get up.  He clutches at his mask in
pain, not even trying to remove it or turn it the right way.]

CL: ...that's not a good sign.

FH: And we should care why?  That idiot decided to come fight with
severe face burns.

CL: He's been driven to distraction by the burns for the whole match,
despite whatever efforts he took to medicate them earlier.  I'm
beginning to wonder if the stuff he put on them was even medication.
Geddings crawling up to his feet... he can't see, and he's in great
pain...

FH: Not for long.


[BIG HEEL POP!]


CL: __HEART PUNCH__!  GEDDINGS WAS WIDE OPEN AND MANSON TOOK THE SHOT!
NOONE IS GOING TO GET UP FROM THAT!


ONE...









TWO...









THREE!


*DING*DING*DING*


FH: Call it euthanasia, Chip.  Geddings isn't screaming anymore.


HD: IN SIX MINUTES, FIFTEEN SECONDS... HERE IS YOUR WINNER...

                M A R C U S     M A N S O N  !  !


["Rooster" begins to play over the PA, as Manson stays atop Geddings
in a pin.  His left forearm is idly laying across Geddings' head,
applying additional pressure to it, just as it was during the pin.]

CL: Okay, okay, you won, now get off of him!

FH: Just proving a point, Chip.  Geddings came close, but when Manson
pins you, he leaves no doubt.

CL: Finally Manson rolls off of Geddings.  Will Geddings showed a lot
of guts in there, and nearly pulled it off. But Marcus Manson was too
much, especially given the facial burns.

FH: And let this be a lesson to you all.  Never use a medication if
you don't know what it is.  Also do not let a three hundred pound man
punch you in the heart.  Either of these may kill you.

[Cut to backstage in the WMI Locker room, where "Showtime" Rick Marley
stands facing the camera with a satisfied expression on his face.  In
the background "Bloodlust" Xavier Feyr prepares for his upcoming match
with William Craven, slowly pacing back and forth along the wall.]

RM: I thought I'd take this opportunity while everyone is all
a-twitter about the beat down that Xavier here is getting ready to
give to Craven to step up to the plate.

[From the arena the crowd boos in response, not believing a word of
it.]

RM: You see, I've been getting a lot of pressure from the Strickland
Sports people...they keep yammering on about how they expect their
wrestlers to actually WRESTLE...how restraining orders aren't
automatically enforced...about Texas having some really nasty rules
surrounding violations of them...

Terrible, isn't it?

SO...I got to thinking: Bill wants to get his hands on me this badly,
who am I to say no?

[Anticipatory crowd pop]

RM: Here's the deal: For one night only, I will waive the restraining
order against William Craven, BUT, only in that ring out there.
Anything that happens before or after the match is fair game.  I
talked with the shysters...I mean lawyers from Strickland, and the fat
guy tells me that the only way this'll work is if the match is
ironclad: WMI is banned from the building, no substitutions for me in
the match, and no leaving in the middle.  The stipulations will be
enforceable by Strickland and if I violate any of them, bye bye
restraining order...to which I say:

Bring it.

[Marley smirks as the crowd in the area erupts in cheers.]

RM: Bill, if you can haul whatever's left of you out to that ring to
get taken apart by me, more power to you...but this is the only chance
you're getting, you big green freak...the offer's over when the show
is...you don't need to answer me.  God knows I've heard enough of your
rambling.

If you want me, just show up.

I'll take care of putting you down...after all, I've kept telling you:
We pay our debts.

[fade]

CL: WOW!!!  Finally Craven and Marley in the Main Event?  Will this
really happen?

FH: Apparently Marley feels it's time to finish Craven off.

CL: Sort of at an oppertune time don't you think? I mean Craven has to
face Feyr already tonight.

FH: Hey if Craven wants a shot at Marley he will have to play on his
terms.  He brought it on himself.

CL: For now, we continue to move right along.  The ring has been
cleared and Herk is right back waiting to continue this show.

HD: Introducing first

"THE PHEMON" TOMMY RYDER !!!

["Obsession" by  Animotion blasts over the PA system as "Lady" Laurel
Levinger walks down to ringside to present Tommy, posing with one arm
pointing to the entrance and the other in the air.  Her "PVW Woman's
Championship" sit across her waste.]

FH: Has she even defended that title?

CL: Have you seen here in action here in the PVW Fred ...

FH: WEll yes but it's action that I can't mention in this time slut ..

CL: FRED!

FH: SLOT! I meant slot!

[The music changes to Headstrong by Trapt...   Tommy comes out when he
hears "Back off..." in his music.  Trotting to the ring, he pumps his
arms and shakes hands with as many of the fans.]

CL: Tonight Tommy Ryder has the chance of a lifetime ...

FH: But I wouldn't pay to be in his boots tonight. Sure if he wins he
moves onto the semi-finals of the World Title Tournament ... but to
advance you need to face ...

HD: Introducing his opponent ... Standing at six foot three and
weighing in at two hundred and eighty six pounds... From Hudson Valley
, New York


Here is ...


ROB COLE !!!

FH: And he's not a man I would want to face!

["Rumatahatta" by Sepultura hits the PA system as the crowd cheers.
Out steps the Outcast.  The long dark hair hangs in wet tangles around
his face and head, he is dressed in a pair of loose fitting black
pants with a silver barbed wire trim design up along the sides.  Red
and black boots, taped fists, and a sleeveless teeshirt finishes out
Cole's attire. The camera zooms in on the face of the legend and it's
covered in scars from past battles. He walks slowly down to the ring
and steps onto the ring apron glaring at Lady Laurel as he enters the
ring.]

CL: Some say it's Rob Cole's destiny to win the World Title!

FH: And how can you argue. He's taken all taken on all of the
obstacles thrown at him and overcome them all ... sure he took the
cowards way out during the Last Chance Battle Royal.

CL: But he survived a beating to even get in it! Tommy Ryder has been
fire here in the PVW so i think we have an instant classic here
tonight!

FH: So long as Tommy doesn't die ... I can't tell who Rob Cole wants
to get his hands on more Tommy Ryder or Lady Laurel. I mean the way he
keeps glaring at her is actually scaring me!

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

        World Title Tournament Match, 30 Minute time limit:
        Tommy Ryder
        v. Rob Cole

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]


<<>>


CL: And there is the bell ...

FH: How sweet the PVW is already starting the 10 bell salute for Tommy
Ryder ...

CL: Fred!

FH: What? I wouldn't be surprised if the monster under the bell kills
him tonight. I mean we have seen what Cole thinks of the men the fans
like. He already crippled Young and honestly it's about time Ryder
joins him on the shelf.

[The two men circle on another for a few moments before Rob Cole stops
stalking Tommy and looks to the outside towards Lady Laurel. A sick
smile comes across Cole's face as he stares at Lady Laurel for a long
moment. Ryder glances back and forth between the two of them before he
grabs Cole by the Shoulder forcing him to stare at him. Ryder leaps
and executes a picture perfect standing Dropkick ...]

CL: And Cole just swats that Dropkick by Ryder away.

FH: Look at the fear in Tommy's eyes ... but really did Tommy think
that a simple Dropkick would take Cole by surprise ... and seriously
isn't Tommy old enough that he can be called Tom?

[Ryder stares at Cole for a moment before running towards the far side
ropes. Cole smirks as he prepares himself for the charging Ryder,
Ryder though baseball slides between the legs of Rob Cole and he is
quickly to his feet. Cole spins around quickly and is caught under the
chin with a European Uppercut.]

CL: Ryder caught Cole off guard with that European Uppercut and he
just cut down Cole with VICIOUS Kick to the Knee!

FH: Ryder just kicked Cole like he was a rabid dog chasing him!

[Cole drops to his knee and The Phenom steps onto the right shoulder
of Cole with his right foot and drives a left boot square into the
face of Cole.]

CL: Ryder with a modified version of his Stepping Stone but it has the
same effects as Rob Cole drops to the mat!

FH: A normal man may have had his nose broken with that move but with
Rob Cole I don't even know if he would notice if his nose was broken!

CL: Ryder is going for the cover!

ONE ...





TWO ...


FH: AND ONLY A TWO! Ryder using his brains there to end this early but
as his wars with The Spectre showed it takes more than a kick to the
face to put away Rob Cole!

CL: Ryder hesitates a bit and allows Cole to get to his feet!

FH: WHAT?!? I don't care if this is his biggest match to date in the
PVW! When you have a chance for glory and fame on the level of the PVW
World Heavyweight Championship you do not hesitate! He should have
been on Cole like white on rice!

[Cole stands to his feet his head at Ryder ...]

FH: Look at Ryder he looks like a deer in headlights! If he doesn't
get his head in the game the monster will rip him apart! Who cares
what he threatened to do to Lady Laurel! Nick Wright will come to her
aid! I mean he is a man compared to the boy that Tommy is!

[Cole lunges forward to grab Ryder by the head but Ryder ducks to
barely avoid the hands of the monster and as he ducks he quickly spins
around and catches the knee of Cole with a quick kick. He follows up
with a second one as Cole spins around, Cole is staggered but doesn't
fall Ryder quickly tries to connect with a stiff kick to the head of
Rob Cole, but Cole catches his leg and glares into the eyes of Ryder.
Before Ryder is able to react Cole drives his elbow in to the knee of
Ryder and Ryder is unable to collapse to the mat as Cole continues to
hold him up. Cole drives a second and a third elbow into the knee and
as Cole continues to taunt Ryder.]

CL: ENZUIGIRI! Ryder just caught Cole in the side of the head with the
Enzuigiri and both men are down.

FH: And Ryder is the one in pain now as he clutches that knee! With
one wheel missing he's going to be easy pickings for Cole! And Cole is
pushing himself off of the mat back to his feet.

[Lady Laurel begins to scream at Tommy to get up before the monster
reaches him. The crowd begins to cheer as Tommy Ryder struggles to his
feet. As he does so Rob Cole hits the ropes, Cole rushes in for a
clothesline but the younger man ducks... Cole rushes the opposite
ropes and stops short, grinning wolfishly as he gazes down at Lady
Laurel! Ryder rushes from behind, but just meets a back elbow fired
blindly by The Outcast!]

CL: Cole lured Ryder in! He caught the kid right in the jaw... and now
a knee to the gut doubles him over... another knee! GUT WRENCH UP!!!!
Hard suplex, and Cole to the side mount...

FH: Definitely not good news for Tommy Ryder... Cole loves that side
mount in order to dish out some pretty nasty abuse!

[And he's facing Lady Laurel, grinning as he drives a knee to the side
of Ryder's skull once... twice... three times! He drives his forearm
down across the throat and leans with his weight as the referee gives
him a warning and counts up to four... the whole while, Cole never
takes his eyes off the Lady outside the ring.]

CL: Cole to his feet... Ryder trying to push himself up, grabbing Cole
around the ankle in order to keep the madman from moving on Lady
Laurel!

FH: And the Outcasts helps him to his feet... AND DRIVES HIM TO THE
MAT WITH A VICIOUS LOOKING HEADBUTT!!!]

CL: Ryder on his back and Cole just STOMPS the head of Ryder! Referee
Jim Pearson warning Cole of the dangers of that move ...

FH: Like Cole is going to care or even listen!

CL: If he wants a shot at the prestigious PVW World Heavyweight Title
at Boiling Point I'm sure he will.

[Cole glares at the ref for a moment before he reaches down and grabs
Ryder by the hair. In a stiff movement he pulls Ryder to his feet. As
he wipes his hands pieces of Ryder's hair fall to the mat.]

FH: Did Cole just rip our Ryder's hair by the roots?!?

[Cole grabs Tommy by the right arm and quickly whips him to the far
side ropes where Tommy rebounds. Cole rushes forward for a
clothesline, as he does so Tommy is able to hook under Cole's arm and
begins to float over for a DDT. As Ryder is attempting to drive Cole's
skull to the mat Cole plants his feet hard into the mat using his
weight to his advantage.]

CL: I don't believe it! Cole is just fighting off the DDT ...

FH: Ryder looks odd just hanging in the air just a foot or so above
the mat.

[Cole stands up to his full height, tossing Tommy over his shoulder
with a modified version of a backdrop.]

CL: And Cole counters the Back at You attempt by Ryder.

FH: And look at Ryder quickly roll under the bottom rope to the apron.
It's about time he hit the bricks. He's just out of his element here
tonight! When the big match comes Ryder is just like Foley he doesn't
have the killer instinct! Think about it he lost the parking lot brawl
...

CL: He was attacked by two men ...

FH: Tomato, Tomatoe ...

CL: You're an idiot!

[Ryder uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet as Rob Cole comes
rushing forward. Ryder grabs the middle rope and uses it for
additional momentum to drive his shoulder into the midsection of Rob
Cole. Cole hunches over and Ryder grabs the top rope using it to
slingshot himself across the back of Cole. Ryder lands on his feet
and turns around grabbing Cole by his hair.]

CL: Cole being pulled back and Ryder with an Elbow Drop into the neck
of Cole driving him to the mat.

[On the outside Lady Laurel screams at Rob Cole ... Not as easy as you
thought is it Robbie!]

FH: Ryder should have gotten Lady Laurel a gag, her mouth is going to
do nothing but fire Cole up more!

CL: It might be but right now Ryder is showing that killer instinct as
he drives his knee into the side of Cole's head! And there is a second
knee. Looks like Ryder wants to rattle Cole's head a bit!

FH: Is there anything in there left to be rattled?

[Ryder to his feet once again and he pulls Cole up with him. Ryder
maintains a grip on Cole's right arm and pulls him forward ...]

CL: Short Arm Clothesline drops Cole to the mat!

[Ryder quickly rushes towards the corner and in a fluid motion leaps
to the top turnbuckle.]

FH: And what is Ryder doing now?

CL: Ryder has ascended to the top rope and he's motioning for Cole to
get to his feet.

[As Ryder continues to motion for Cole to get up faster the crowd
begins to cheer on the youngster.  As Cole reaches his feet Ryder
leaps ...]

CL: Flying Clothesline! Ryder nearly decapitating Cole right there!

FH: The decapitation of Cole probably would have brought tears of joy
to the entire PVW roster!

ONE ...





TWO ...


CL: NO! Rob Cole powers his left shoulder up!

[Lady Laurel shakes her head in disappointment but looks towards Cole
and screams Almost Robbie, Tommy almost had you there! Ryder glances
towards the referee but doesn't take any chances as he drives a right
hand to the side of Cole's head before pulling him to his feet. Ryder
takes Cole and whips him hard into the corner.]

CL: Rob Cole dazed in the corner, and here comes Tommy Ryder! NO!!!
Cole out of the corner, catches Ryder in mid-leap.... Tiltawhirl
backbreaker!!!!

FH: Cole isn't happy about that sudden flurry of offense from Ryder...
he pulls the smaller man to his feet, grabbing his head from behind...
HEADBUTT!!! ANOTHER!!!! ANOTHER!!!! Three head butts to the base of
the skull and Ryder slumps to one knee....

CL: COBRA CLUTCH!!!! Rob Cole with the cobra clutch on Tommy Ryder,
forcing the smaller man off his knee.... to his feet...

[The crowd gives a huge sympathy pop as Cole swings Ryder one way,
then the next, and then suddenly twists the smaller man's body and
DRIVES him hard to the mat... straddling the side of his waist like
he's done in previous matches.]

CL: He's holding Tommy Ryder right in front of Lady Laura!!!!

FH: And he's taunting them both!!!!

[Camera gets in close, catching the worried look on Laura's face as
Cole glares down at her.... we hear him speaking to Ryder, "Her next!
Her next! I'm going to break her neck... just like this, Ryder! You
better not give up or I'm going after her.... the moment that bell
rings, the moment you can't fight back, the moment you can't stand
anymore... I BREAK HER!!!!" Cole laughs hysterically and jerks Ryder's
body again.]

FH: Cole loves this move to and to make his opponent's look like a rag
doll. And right now Ryder is looking just like that!

CL: Cole is snapping Ryder around and look at the fear in the eyes of
Lady Laurel.

FH: She knows her meal ticket is about to be taken out and possibly
forever! She should have gone with Wright when she had the chance!

[The crowd begins to rally behind Tommy Ryder as he struggles to reach
for the bottom rope with his feet. He barely hooks the bottom rope but
as he does so Cole pulls him back away from the ropes and with a fluid
motion snaps him over ...]

CL: Cobra Clutch Suplex!

FH: Ryder was folded up like an accordion!

ONE ...




TWO ...




THR –


CL: Somehow some way Tommy Ryder kicks out!

[Cole glares at the referee but pulls Tommy Ryder to his feet and
whips him hard into the corner.]

FH: Ryder slammed hard into corner ... did he just whimper in pain?

[Cole rushes forward ...]

CL: Cole is looking for that corner splash ...

[Ryder though side steps Cole who connects with the corner hard chest
first. As he staggers out Ryder leaps and once again drills Cole with
an Enzuigiri to the side of the head. Cole doesn't fall but staggers a
few more steps, Ryder runs up the turnbuckle and leaps off catching
Cole with a Bulldog.]

CL: Ryder with a version of his Coming and Going and quickly he drops
down for the cover!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THR –


CL: NO! Cole once again with a kick out!

[Ryder quickly gets to his feet and as he pulls Cole to his feet, Cole
grabs the top of Ryder's head and drops to his knees driving the jaw
of Ryder into his own skull.]

FH: JAWBREAKER! Cole using his years of experience and once again is
on the assault as he grabs Ryder by the arm and whips into the far
corner!

[Cole comes in for that corner splash, but Ryder steps out of the way
at the last second! Taking a deep breath, The Phenom grabs the stunned
Cole out of the corner and hooks him around the head...]

CL: Coming and going....

*Shocked pop!!!*

FH: Going out of the ring!!!

[Rob Cole just tosses Tommy Ryder off his shoulder, and out of the
ring... where the young man CRASHES into Lady Laurel Levinger! The
crowd is stunned as Ryder tries to shake the cobwebs out of his
head... not noticing what's happening behind him!]

CL: Rob Cole hits the ropes... Ryder kneeling beside his Lady, NO!!!!
NO NO NO!!!!! Rob Cole over the top rope.... DIVING SENTON!!!!!

FH: AND HE CRASHES ON TOP OF BOTH RYDER AND LEVINGER!!!!! That's
almost three hundred pounds crashing on top of those two young kids!

CL: All three are down on the outside! I'm not sure how much of the
actual impact Lady Laurel took ...

FH: Who cares Chip! Right now we have two men who are putting their
bodies on the line and quite honestly I thought Ryder would have been
finished five minutes ago!

[The two are both slow to roll away from one another on the outside.
Inside the ring Jim Pearson begins the count.]


ONE ...


TWO ...


CL: Slowly both men are getting to their feet ...

FH: This is who wants the main event slot more at Boiling Point Chip!
Who wants it more!


THREE ...


FOUR ...


CL: We know Cole is willing to cripple people!

FH: But does Tommy have the drive as Cole ...


FIVE ...

[Both men are on their feet and slowly making it back to the ring
apron.]


SIX ...


CL: Tommy has heart!

FH: Heart isn't always enough! Ask Brian Young!

[The two men begin to pull there way into the ring.]


SEVEN ...


CL: And both men slide under the bottom rope!

FH: And here come the haymakers from Cole! The big near three hundred
pounder is wailing away on poor Tommy Ryder!

CL: And Tommy covers up!

FH: Like that's going to stop those war torn hands from pounding away!

[Tommy is finally able to block a right from Cole and uses that
temporary gap in the brutal pounding to drive his knee into the gut of
Cole. He grabs Cole's arm and whips him back first into the corner.
Tommy rushes forward as Cole hits the corner ..]


"____SSSMMMAAACCCKKK____"


CL: LEAPING KNEELIFT!

FH: What impact with that knee! Tommy grabs Rob by the head and shoves
him to the mat and hooks the far side leg!




ONE ...




TWO ...





THREE ???


CL: NO!

FH: GOOD LORD COLE KICKED OUT! I thought he had his bell rung there!

CL: HE did Fred! He did! You could see his eyes glass over! But
somehow he keeps going!

[Tommy rolls off of Cole and dares the monster to stand up ...]


"____SSSMMMAAACCCKKK____"


CL: SUPERKICK!

FH: Cole collapses to the mat once again!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE ???


[The crowd erupts but suddenly they let out a sigh of disappointment
as referee Jim Pearson holds two fingers high into the air!]

CL: The fans and Tommy thought he had it! But Cole once again got that
shoulder up! I don't know what is driving this beast right now but
Tommy needs to find a way to keep his shoulders down!

FH: A gun would probably do it ...

CL: FRED!

FH: What? I'm just saying!

[Ryder looks at Cole with an expression of what do I have to do to
beat this guy as he stands to his feet. Ryder reaches down and pulls
Cole to his feet. He grabs Cole by the head in a front face lock, he
begins to drag Cole backwards by the head towards to the corner.
Slowly Ryder begins to ascend to the second turnbuckle ..]

CL: I think Ryder is looking for a Tornado DDT ...

FH: And Cole is having nothing to do with it as he begins to fire shot
after shot with his forearms into the ribs of Ryder. You can see Ryder
loosing his grip ...

[Cole rips his head free and grabs Ryder's legs pulling him hard back
to the mat. He fires a right hand into the head of Ryder and then
pulls him up grabbing the middle ropes immediately and driving his
shoulder into the mid section of Ryder once, twice and a third time!]

CL: Cole might be looking for the Superplex ...

[As Cole steps away from driving his shoulder into the mid section of
Ryder for a third time he quickly drives a knee into the mid-section
doubling Ryder over. He grabs the hunched over Ryder by the waist as
if he is looking for a piledriver, he lifts ...]

CL: GOOD LORD!

[The crowd moans in pain as the back of Tommy Ryder's skull comes
crashing down on the top turnbuckle!]

FH: OUTCAST POWERBOMB! HE JUST HIT THE OUTCAST POWERBOMB ONTO THE TOP
TURNBUCKLE! RYDER IS OUT!

CL: Cole drags Ryder to the center of the ring by his leg!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE !!!


FH: COLE ADVANCES!


<<>>


CL: One seriously has to wonder who right now in the PVW can stop the
monster known as Rob Cole!

FH: I don't think anyone! Brian Young's injury unleashed a new animal
into the PVW!

CL: Now both Larry Gionet and Rob Cole have earned their spots in the
semifinals who will join them?

FH: Look at the smile across Rob Cole's face as he just looks down at
Tommy Ryder.  This guy's not right Chip.

[Suddenly, there is a cut to backstage, where a body is hanging from
the rafters with a noose around the neck!]

FH: AAAAAAAHHHH!

CL: It's a mannequin...

FH: ...I knew that.

[The camera pans back, to show more detail.  The mannequin slowly
rotates, hanging from the rope.  We see that a copy of the EXCERPT
FROM THE CODE OF THE OLD WEST, the same excerpt that we saw at the top
of the show, is nailed to it's chest.  But now we have a bit more
detail... the mannequin is wearing a pair of wrestling trunks.  Long,
dark blue trunks with bluish-white spotlight streaks running up the
sides.

Those are Rick Marley's trunks.]

CL: Well, now we know who the message is targeting.  But we still
don't know who is sending it.

FH: Craven, obviously.  He...

[The slow rotation of the dummy now exposes it's back side.
Spray painted in red on the back are the words WE PAY OUR DEBTS.]

FH: ...and now I'm not so sure.  That's a Widowmakers phrase.  It's
something one of them would say.

CL: It could be the Mercenary.  WMI brutally betrayed him, and he
certainly has a debt to pay.

FH: That makes sense.  Code Of The Old West though?  Hrm.  Something
is connected here... like there's information we know but just aren't
connecting with this.

[We cut back to the arena.]

CL: Folks what a night!

FH: You have that right.

CL: It's been thus far.  We have two of our four semifinalist for the
PVW
World Championship.  We have apparently someone sending messages to
Rick Marley and the rest of the Widowmakers and we are only a little
over half way through the night!

FH: That's right we still have yet to see the Wild Cards take on
_both_ Canadian Legacy and Livestock and The Gutch!

CL: We can worry about that later. I still can't believe that William
Craven and Rick Marley is set to let loose in the Main Event.

FH: Rick Marley is a fair guy eh?

[The videotron comes to life, with dark, billowing clouds.  Music
starts up- "The Ride of the Valkyries" by Richard Wagner.  For a
moment, nothing can be seen but the billowing clouds.


After a moment, the screen is filled with yellow.  As it starts moving
back into the clouds, we see that the yellow is part of a letter- and
more letters are visible as it zooms out more and more.  When two
words fill the screen, it does not pause, but continues zooming out to
show:



"Not Just"

"A Hero,"



It zooms out some more as the music builds to a crescendo and there is
room for a third level of words.  As the music reaches it peak, the
third set of words fades in:]



"Not Just"

"A Hero,"

"YOUR HERO"



[With a thunderous crash, the video stops, the music ends, and
standing at the bottom of the screen is a man with yellow hair,
wraparound sunglasses, a golden shirt with the words "YOUR HERO" in
black block lettering ...


Around his waist is a title belt.  On the front of the belt are the
words SUPREME CHAMPION and in the main faceplate is an embossed
picture of the wrestler himself.  He grins, showing off very white
teeth to contrast with his tanned skin, and starts speaking into a
microphone, with the voice of an overly-trained radio announcer:]



D"YH"D:  GREETINGS.. AND SAULTATIONS!


Well, it's a marvelous time for a moondance

With the stars up above in your eyes.

But every day is a marvelous time when you are "YOUR HERO", Danny
Daniels- a man so nice they named me twice- as I grace VPW with my
glorious presence! That's right, Portland- "YOUR HERO" has arrived.

But I'm more than your hero, your inspiration, the wind beneath your
wings. I am also. [Danny points to the title belt around his waist]
YOUR Supreme wrestling champion!  That's right- since I won this title
in a 64 man tournament, I have defended against hundreds of opponents
over a grueling schedule of days and weeks, months and years.  And in
that time, I have NEVER lost this title!  Not once!  It's impressive-
even by MY magnificent standards!  You fans should be just as
impressed as I am!

And now I've come here- to PVW- to defend my title against the best
wrestlers in the world.  Men like Rick Cole. men like Robby Acorn. men
like Geddy Willking!  All tough, tough competitors and worthy
challengers.  But they are just men, and I'm more than that!  After
all, I'm not just a hero. I, Danny Daniels- a man so nice they named
me twice- am YOUR HERO!  So expect to see me very soon in that VPW
ring.  And. you're welcome!

CL: Ummm ...

FH: I like this guy!

CL: You would.  He couldn't even get the men on the PVW's roster's
names correct.

FH: Rick Cole!!!!

CL: Oh brother ...

FH: Hey we can't have too many hero's in the PVW.  We have the
American Hero and now _Your_ Hero!

CL: And both of them give me a headache.

FH: I can't wait to see this guy in action.  And to make things even
better.  I think we are looking at the end of the Wild Cards tonight
and honestly I couldn't be happier!

CL: No team deserves this match up that Christopher Michaelson has
signed the Wild Cards into tonight ...

FH: If you were Michaelson I bet you would be signing a different
tune. Week after week the Wild Cards have given that poor man hell and
he's done his best to stay a professional!

CL: A professional!?! He's trying to kill them ...

FH: No teach them a lesson ... now let's cut to Herk who's standing in
the ring!

[The dull throb of a single snare drum is heard as the lights dim. Red
and white spotlights shine on the entrance.]

*BRUMP*

*BRUMP*

*BADDABADDABADDABADDABADDA BRUMP*

*BRUMP*

*BRUMP*

*BADDABADDABADDABADDABADDA BRUMP*

HD: Being led to the ring by their manager Don Cameron... Hailing from
River Hebert, Nova Scotia and Montreal, Quebec, Canada respectively,
at a total combined weight of 500 pounds..... here are Alain McDonald,
Marc Denis, otherwise known as

CANADIANLEGACY!!!

[The last echo of the drum fades out, and then the guitar twang of
"Last American Exit" by The Tragically Hip starts to play, as the boos
pick up quite a bit.]

# You know the reasons I can't conceal #
# You know I'm leaving you obviously know how I feel #
# You know I'm tired of crawling 'hind my name among the crowd #

[Alain MacDonald, Marc Denis and Don Cameron step out onto the ramp,
side by side. Cameron has the gold cane in his right hand.]

# It's not a matter of wrong or right #
# It ain't much better than drinking and looking to fight #
# It's not as easy as calling out your name when I'm down #

[Denis with his brown hair cut short, wears a red and white singlet.
MacDonald, the huge man, wears a pair of red shorts, with white tape
wrapped around each of his wrists. Cameron is in a dark navy blue suit
with a black tie.]

# I'm on the last American exit to the northland #
# I'm on the last American exit to my homeland #
# I'm on the last American exit to my last chance #
# They keep calling out my name - I shout it down #

[Cameron looks towards Denis and MacDonald as his two legacies nod.
Then Cameron lifts the gold cane up and points it towards the ring and
they make their way down, Cameron using the cane to walk. As soon as
they get into the ring, Cameron stands by their corner and nods, a
small smile on his face.]

#There I was completely wasting, out of work and down,#

FH: I can't wait till Boiling Point when Canadian Legacy finishes the
Wild Cards off ... wait that's assuming that they live through cause
their partners are about to make their way to the ring!

["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 Broderick Ezekiel Craven...

[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, this is
the team of

LIVESTOCK and THE GUTCH!!!

[Aaand they reach the ring.  Producing a microphone, Gutch ascends the
ringsteps, and ducking between the ropes, he speaks in his distinctive
New Jersey mangling of the English language.]

Gutch: Hey, all right.  Here we are again, sharing the spotlight with
some jokers who ain't paid their dues.  See, we been here from the
start.  We're the reason the corporation even gives a damn about this
minor league.  Hell, we're the reason this minor league is getting
bigger all the time.

[Taken aback by their partners bad attitude, both members of Canadian
Legacy look at Gutch with murder in their eyes as Zeke steps up to
them, trying to prevent them from becoming too upset.]

Gutch: Yeah, so now we got them Wildcards we beat what ... twice?
Hell, beat 'em out of the tourney for the tag titles.  Never got our
guaranteed return match from the tourney finals.  We're SSN's CHOSEN
FEW, the Powers That Be!  Why's PVW holdin' us back? Me?  I think
they're scared.  I think the Willinghams are afraid that SSN's
outgrowing PVW ... just like their lawyers outgrew the Willinghams...
'Stock?

[Handing the microphone over to Livestock, Gutch takes a step back,
and gives their partners a bear stare.]

Livestock: While I'm not quite as hostile towards our neighbors from
the north here... Hey, you guys aren't actually Team Canada are you?
We got rid of those guys. No?  Good.  Good deal. I have to agree.
We've been given the short end of the stick.  However, I can't
imagine a better way of getting back in the saddle than by getting one
more win over those posers. Gentlemen, you wanna get this one started?
Thaaanks...

CL: This is nuts ... it's four on two ... well wait a minute with
Cameron and Zeke on the outside it's like six on two!

FH: Justice will be served tonight!

[As the six men stand in the ring waiting for their opponents the
arena lights dim and laser lights begin to play along the rafters.
After a moment a breathy woman's voice comes over the PA system and
asks "Are you ready to go Wild?"

"Wild Side" by Motley Crue kicks into high gear over the announce
system as two figures appear at the entryway. The first is a well
built man with short cropped sandy blond hair wearing a black long
legged singlet with purple tights over the top. On the outside of his
black wrestling boots there is a picture of a pair of dice (showing
snake eyes).

The second, and larger is a heavily muscled, bald man with a goatee.
Standing nearly seven feet tall, he wears a black long legged singlet
with purple tights over the top.  On the outside of his black
wrestling boots there is a picture of a pair of cards (Jack of Spades
and Ace of Spades...which matches the tattoo on his right bicep).  He
wears black elbow and knee pads to finish off his gear.]

HD: Now making their way to the ring, weighing in at a combined total
of 540 lbs. They are "The Gambler" Judd Marley and Black Jack
Baldwin...

THE WILD CARDS!!!

[The fans erupt into applause as the three men make their way down to
the ring slapping hands with the fans as they go.  About halfway down
the aisle way the two men stop and "Black" jack Baldwin looks at Judd
Marley with a smirk on his face.]

FH: I hate that smug look on Baldwin's face ...

[He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a large remote control with
a large red button on it.]

FH: Why does he have something that looks like it came from ACME in
his hand?

[Baldwin waves at the six men in the ring and smiles once again before
pushing the button ... without warning a large metallic net hurtles
from the rafters covering Canadian Legacy and Livestock and the Gutch
in the center of the ring.]

FH: WHAT THE HELL!?!! Look at these two men! Still making a mockery of
the PVW! This isn't a Warner Brothers cartoon!

CL: Looks like the Wild Cards just got the drop on ...

FH: SHUT UP CHIP! This is a travesty ... it's a joke! No wonder
Michaelson called these two a disgrace as champions!

[In the ring everyone is struggling to get free from the net as
Baldwin and Marley laugh in the center of the aisle. The crowd begins
to boo heavily as an irate Christopher Michaelson begins to storm down
to the ringside area with security in tow. Baldwin and Marley are
holding their sides as they laugh hysterically at the six men
struggling to get out from under the net. Michaelson can be heard
barking orders to security who has rushed passed him to try and free
them from the net. Michaelson glares at the Wild Cards before making
his way to the ring.]

CL: The crowd is eating this up Fred.

FH: ...

CL: Oh come on Fred it is a bit funny.

FH: It's a mockery Chip, a mockery! These two men ... and look at them
run now towards the back. See they didn't even the guts to stand and
take the beating they rightly deserve!

CL: Security has done a great job freeing the six men in the ring and
look at Michaelson! He is livid screaming at the six men to get back
there and drag the Wild Cards back to the ring!

*FACE POP*

CL: And here the Wild Cards come back ...

FH: What the heck is in their hands!

[As if on cue the Wild Cards bring a fire hose completely into view
and Michaelson's jaw drops as the two men turn it on and begin
spraying the seven men who are in the ring. As water begins to pelt
ring Livestock and Gutch and Canadian Legacy rush forward to get out
of the line of fire but all four men are drenched in water and
knocked to the mat as the crowd begins to roar for the Wild Cards.]

FH: This ... this ... this ...

CL: [snickering] what's the matter Fred. This isn't your style of
wrestling!

FH: This garbage isn't anyone's style of wrestling!

[Michaelson is hit with a blast of water that knocks his wig off and
as he reaches for the wig he is blasted with another stream of water
that sends him crashing to the mat. The Wild Cards turn the hose on
the wig and wash it off of the ring onto the arena floor.]

CL: [laughs uncontrollably]

FH: I swear to God I hope you lose your job over this Chip!

CL: [still snickering] come on it's funny! Look at Michaelson trying
to stand up and once again he is dropped to the mat!

[The crowd begins to scream a warning at the Wild Cards, who are too
busy laughing as they continue to spray the ring with water Masked
Maniac comes running up from behind and catches Jack Baldwin with a
forearm to the back causing him release the fire hose. As he does so
Judd cuts the water and turns around as well. The Wildcards begin to
pound away on the Masked Maniac.]

FH: Finally at least someone had the guts to come out and try to end
this madness!

[As The Wild Cards continue pound away with rights and lefts on the
Masked Maniac, Canadian Legacy begins to rush down the aisle way and
blindside the Wild Cards slamming them hard to the arena floor with
stero clotheslines.]

FH: HERE WE GO! BUSINESS IS PICKING UP!

[As Livestock and Gutch hustle towards the Wildcards Canadian Legacy
continues to put the boots to the Wildcards, Michaelson stands up with
a smirk on his face. The referee tosses his hands up in confusion as
Michaelson tells him to stay in the ring. Michaelson begins to swagger
down the aisle.]

CL: And Canadian Legacy grabs Baldwin in a double front face lock and
they power him over with a Vertical Suplex ... and Gutch walks over to
Baldwin ...

FH: SPLASH! Gutch just drove his muscular frame onto Baldwin on the
concrete floor!

CL: Muscular?!?!

FH: I'm not losing my job like you! Gutch is ripped!

CL: ... And Livestock catches Marley with a vicious right hand and he
pulls him up ...



"____CCCRRRAAASSSHHH____"



FH: Marley whipped hard into the steel guardrail and Gutch rushes
forward ...

CL: AVALANCHE ONTO MARLEY ON THE GUARDRAIL!

FH: It's amazing that guardrail didn't break!

CL: And Livestock and Gutch grab Marley and are just holding him there
as Marc Denis begins raining right hands onto the defenseless Marley!

FH: Don't sound like your going to cry Chip! These two had this
beating coming! And it's now Alain MacDonald's turn to beat Marley
like a mule!



"____TTTWWWAAACCCKKK____"



CL: Marley's head was nearly taking off with that stiff kick!

FH: And here is the commissioner! He's ordering the four men to drag
Marley's limp carcass to the ring!

CL: And listen to these fans! They hate the actions of these men here
tonight!

FH: But it's okay to make a mockery out of the commissioner! These
fans are peons!

[Marley is tossed into the ring and Canadian Legacy follows him in. On
the outside Michaelson smirks as he shakes the hands of both Livestock
and Gutch. Denis begins to climb to the top rope as Macdonald pulls
Marley up and drives him to the mat with a Running Powerbomb!]

FH: And Denis leaps off of the top rope FROG SPLASH! They call that
the Domination Factor! And Marley is out!

CL: What the hell is Michaelson doing?

FH: He's ordering the referee to make the count! Denis places his foot
across the chest of Marley as the referee drops down!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE !!!

CL: Michaelson is calling for the bell!

<<>>

HD: And the winners of the match as a result of a pinfall the team of
Canadian Legacy and Livestock and the Gutch!

CL: I can't believe this! This is injustice! This is ...

FH: It's fair Chip! It's a punishment that was well deserved! The Wild
Cards got the Dead Man's Hand and hopefully after Boiling Point it
will be the last we see of them!

CL: Now we will have to get some janitors out  here before we can get
to our next match.

[The camera cuts to AT&T Center's backstage area. Here we find PVW
newcomer, "Pit Monster" Chad Grimsson, leaning on a nearby wall,
drinking a cup of water. Although not scheduled tonight, Chad is
nonteless dressed for action, wearing a pair of ripped and faded blue
jeans, black leather chaps, a white wifebeater with a red anarchy sign
spraypainted on the front, black engineer boots and both hands wrapped
in white tape. He rounds out his look with a bic'd and tattooed head
and a blonde goatee. As he takes a drink from his cup, Chad looks
around, taking in his surroundings.]

Chad: Looks promising here in PVW. A lot of asses to kick, that's for
sure.

[Chad now stands straight up, chuckling to himself.]

Chad: Yeah I think I'm going to like it here a lot.

[Chad now turns to head on his way down the hallway, however, his path
is blocked. Ronan Benedict still looks to be in no condition to fight,
but he's dressed for one anyway.  Short-sleeved black "War Hounds:
Blood-Stained Extermination Tour" t-shirt, forest-green camouflage-
patterned pants, and brown boots on his feet.  His wavy red hair hangs
to his shoulders, and dangles in his face.  But Ronan's full-beard has
finally seen its trim.  It's like the man has figured out what he
needs to do, and so he's here - doing it.  His intense blue eyes are
locked on Chad.  The two stand there, silently, watching one another,
before Ronan speaks up.]

RB: You better have a damn good explanation, man.

[Chad simply shrugs his shoulders.]

Chad: What's the issue, Benedict? You know when we step between those
ropes things are going to happen. Did I get in your face when you beat
my ass in California? I think you'd better let this one go. For your
sake, not mine.

[Ronan's eyes narrow, as he takes a step towards Chad.]

RB: It ain't the fact that you attacked me.  Hell, that's fair play.
My _issue_... is that you _continued_ to attack me even after I was
out of the match.  After you _threw_ me out of the match.  I got no
problem with being chucked into the third row.  But I _do_ got a
problem with being chucked through a _wall_ afterwards.  And now
you're _threatening_ me?!

[Obviously Ronan is getting mad again.  He takes another menacing step
towards the man he called a friend.]

RB: I may still be pretty f[BLEEP]ked up after that sh[BLEEP]t you
pulled, but I _will_ kick your f[BLEEP]kin' teeth in unless you give
me a really good reason not to!

[Chad grits his teeth into an angry scowl, his lips curling back into
as he lets out a low, guttural growl.]

Chad: Listen here, you little punk. You're the one who got up in my
face, not the other way around. And I see you've got no problems
tossing around threats of your own.

[Chad now pokes a finger into Ronan's chest.]

Chad: So unless you want your ass kicked up between your shoulder
blades, you'd best get out of my grill and walk away!

[Ronan turns his face away from Chad, but his eyes never waver.  A low
chuckle emanates from his throat.]

RB: Man... Chad, there was a time when I was happy to go into battle
with you.  But...

[His left hand curls up into a tightly-clenched ball.]

RB: That ain't the answer I was looking for.

[Without warning, Ronan swings the arm out, landing a punch right
between Chad's eyes.  Chad's head snaps back with the force of the
punch, which is enough to open a cut on his head. He then looks down,
glaring at Ronan as he wipes off a trickle of blood with his hand.]

Chad: Okay, I'll give you that one for free. But you try and take a
swing again, and I'm going to bury you.

[Ronan doesn't even hear him.  The second punch is already on its way;
this one headed for Chad's chin.  Ready for this attack, Chad blocks
the punch, and reaches out with his dinner plate sized hand, grabbing
Ronan in an iron claw. He then hefts the much smaller man up, slamming
him to the ground. Standing up, Chad now looks down at the prone heap
that he's left Ronan Benedict in.]

Chad: How's that for an explanation, huh, Ronan? You wanna go and ring
my bell, and then get upset when I retaliate? That's your problem. But
if you ever get in my face again, I swear I'm going to break you in
half before you even get a word out!

[Chad now begins to head on his way, turning to face the laid out
Ronan.]

Chad: Hope this little talk we had helped ease your mind.

[Chad begins to chuckle as the camera fades.]

CL: There is some serious heat between these two guys.

FH: What do you expect they come from a place that would rather dump
you through heaps of barbwire and havoc then settle things inside a
ring.

CL: PVW isn't going to be able to keep these two seperated if it
continues like this.

FH: Look at the size of Chad Grimsson.  They will need to hire another
security team just to hold him back!

CL: We are rapidly approaching Boiling Point.  I wonder if the match
making comitee has their eyes on these two?

FH: I don't see how they couldn't.

CL: After the beating Ronan took last Heatwave you have to give the
guy props for walking right up to the Pit Monster and stepping up to
the plate.  That takes a lot of courage!

FH: And lack of brains.

[The Warriors Code by Dropkick Murphys hit the PA system as the San
Antonio fans leap to their feet ...]

CL: THE FIGHTING IRISHMAN HAS ARRIVED!

[Caleb Foley emerges from the back in a pair of blue jeans and a t-
shirt.]

CL: He doesn't appear dressed for battle.  However he is heading
straight for that ring.

FH: At a rapid pace.

[The Fighting Irishman storms down the aisle way with something
obviously on his mind.  He walks up the steps and takes the microphone
from Herk Douglas.  The fans are still on their feet cheering on one
of PVW's originals and baby face of 2008.]

CL: Caleb Foley made a name for himself in 2008.  However as the year
closed out he apparently attracted the attention of an unwanted
stalker.

FH: Hey it's the price you pay for fame!

[Finally the fans die down as Caleb Foley stops pacing the ring.  He
looks towards the entrance ramp.]

Foley: I didn't come down here for words.  You wanted my attention?


FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!


FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!


FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!


FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!


FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!   FOLEY~!


CL: Caleb Foley looks motivated and ready to face the man with no
face.

FH: Be careful what you ask for young Foley.  Daddy isn't around to
hold your hand anymore.

CL: Fred!

FH: What?

Foley: I have bled in this ring.  I have wept in this ring.  And I
don't fear death.  So enough with the games.  Here I am!

[Foley raises his hands in the air ...]

Foley: Here I stand!  Bring out the man with no face!

[Foley backs slowly away from the ropes as he stands waiting for his
stalker to emerge.]

CL: Caleb Foley appears ready for a fight!

[Seconds go by .... They turn into minutes and nothing.  Foley looks
obviously frustrated.]

FH: Well he is the man with no face!  Maybe we can't see him!

Foley: So this is what you want?  To play games?  If you won't come to
me ... Then I will find you!

[Foley tosses the microphone down and storms towards the back.]

CL: Caleb Foley is apparently headed to back to look for the man with
no face!

FH: How does he know who he is?

CL: Good point!

FH: Maybe it's Brian Young?

CL: I think Rob Cole eliminated him as a possible candidate.

FH: Excuse me while I shed a tear ...

CL: Oh brother ... Things are getting back in order at ring side ...
Next up is William Craven and Xavier Feyr.  This match is going to be
BRUTAL!

FH: Craven vs. Feyr. Does WMI finally finish what they started so many
months ago.

[The crowd pops as the lights go out in the arena… then suddenly the
video screen comes to life as words "No Fear" appear on the screen,
accompanied by a sound like a heart beat... the crowd stirs... then
another heartbeat, as the words "No Pain" appear... a third beat as
the final set of words "No Mercy" appear... then the sound of a
panther snarling as a red cat-like scratch tears across the screen...
"blood" runs down from the scratch forming the word "Bloodlust".]

CROWD: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

["Bad Blood" by the Ministry begins playing over the PA as red
flickering lights illuminate the entrance area, and single figures
steps out onto the entrance ramp. A man wearing a long black
treanchcoat, with a tangled mess of crimson red hair, pausing for a
moment, then flashing a wicked grin.  It is the man known as
"Bloodlust" Xavier Feyr.]

CROWD: *Reaction*

MUSIC:    #What's lies?


            #Full moon and thoughts collide


            #We look for answers in those catatonic, dying blod-shot
            eyes


            #We ask if vermin are the ones that already learned


            #Those aren't tears,


            #They're just bad bad blood

RING ANNOUNCER:  COMING DOWN THE AISLE...  FROM PARTS UNKNOWN!
WEIGHTING IN AT 238 LBS... "BLOODLUST" XAVIER FEYR!

MUSIC:  # Just bad bad blood!

[Xavier grins broadly as the crowd boos, he cracks his knuckles and
begins stalking down to the ring, carrying a sense of eagerness and
anticipation...]

CL:  Xavier is in a disturbingly good mood tonight...

FH:  Of COURSE he is... it's a match between himself and a fellow
psychopath... this is like Christmas for him, but instead of presents
and eggnog, it's maiming and bloodshed.

MUSIC:  # What lies?


            #No big surprise.


            #We get our clues from the ones who thought up they will
            conquer us


            #Are we too fucked to say the end is here too much?


            #We're in denial with bad blood

[Xavier stalks down to the ring, pausing for a moment just outside the
ring and takes a deep breath, almost like he's taking in a breath of
fresh air.]

MUSIC:  # Do you remember the strain?


            #Do you remember the pain?


            #Do you remember who caused all the blame?

            # Bad Blood!

[Xavier slides into the ring and stalks over to one corner, nimbly
jumping up to the second rope and just balancing there, looking out
towards the center of the ring and at the crowd beyond... he raises
his fists in the air, a sadistic grin on his face, like he's relishing
the thought of the coming carnage.]

MUSIC:    #Do you remember me?


           #Do you remember us?


           #Do you surrender your dreams or your trust?


           #Bad Blood!

            [The lights return to normal, and the music fades as
            Xavier drops back down to the mat awaiting his opponent.]

FH: I hope Feyr destroys Craven.

CL: Not likely Fred, he could beat him, but nobody has been able to
stop him.

FH: Rick did.

CL: Rick and a barrage of Phoenix's finest if you want to tell the
truth.

[Black.  Twin pinpoints of red spring to life as a rhythm guitar plays
the opening strains of "Space Lord" by Monster Magnet.  A red line
reverberates between them and off the sides of the screen, keeping
time with the rhythm of the guitar.]



#Ive been stuffed in your pocket for the last hundred days.#
#When I dont get my bath I take it out on the slaves,#



[Cut to the arena, where a red spotlight shows on the entrance
portal.]


#So grease up your baby for the ball on the hill,#
#now, polish them rockets now, and swallow those pills,#


[The lights in the arena darken, and the crowd becomes hushed.  On the
big screen over the entrance portal, the red light and reverberating
line become a pattern of cracks that form the word "Craven".]


#and sing... Whoaaaaa space lord mother, mother.#

[A short instrumental interlude, then an explosion of sound.]

#I LEFT MY THRONE A MILLION MILES AWAY!#
#I DRINK FROM YOUR TIT!#
#I SING YOUR BLUES EVERY DAY!#



[Bursting from the back comes a large figure, holding high what looks
to be a sword.  Wearing nothing but a pair of camouflage pants and a
black gas mask, his hands and feet are wrapped in red gauze.]


#NOW GIVE ME STRENGTH,#
#TO SPLIT THE WORLD IN TWO, YEAH!#
#I ATE ALL THE REST, AND NOW I GOTTA EAT YOU!#


[Stopping before the entrance portal, he is bathed in a storm of
flaming sparks.]


#Well I sing,#

#WHOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!#

#SPACE LORD, MOTHER, MOTHER!#



HD: Ladies and gentlemen, hailing from Detroit Michigan.



#WHOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!#
#SPACE LORD, MOTHER, MOTHER!#


HD: Weighing in tonight at 320 pounds, this is WILLIAM CRAVEN!!!



#I lost my soul when I fell to earth.#
#My planet's called me to the void of my birth.#



[Walking the aisle, Bill slaps a few hands, then walks a circuit
around the ring, swinging his "sword" high overhead.]


#The time has come for me to kill this game.#
#NOW OPEN WIDE AND SAY MY NAAAAAAAAAME!#



[Sliding into the ring, Bill climbs the turnbuckle, rips off the gas
mask, and waggles his twin tongues between his gapped and sharpened
teeth.  His green skin glimmers with moisture, and sprays this
moisture as he beats himself in the forehead with the flat part of his
wooden sword.]



#Well I sing,#

#WHOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!#

#SPACE LORD, MOTHER, MOTHER!#

#WHOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!#
#SPACE LORD, MOTHER, MOTHER!#



[Hopping down, Bill turns to face the enforcer of WMI.]

CL: This is gonna be a war!


[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

        One on One, World Title Tourney Match:
        Xavier Feyr
        v. William Craven

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]


*DING!* *DING!* *DING!*

[Xavier still has his trench coat on.  While removing it he suddenly
whips it out and wraps it around Craven's head and arm, holding it
tight with one hand, and begins kicking, elbowing, and basically just
savaging Craven like a wild animal. with Craven unable to strike back
effectively, and the coat being used in the way allows Xavier to
control Craven, giving him the upper hand early as he beats Craven
down to the ground and starts pummeling his arm and shoulder, choking
him, and generally beating him senseless.]

FH: Xavier Feyr has begun this match the only way he knows how and he
is taking it to Craven right now! Xavier is noticeably smaller than
Craven but he's totally bringing the fight to Bill!

CL: Feyr has claimed many times he knows no fear and he is proving it
right now.

[Feyr continues the assualt, stomping on the arm and shoulder of
Craven repeatedly before he Bill finally untangles himself from the
coat. Feyr quickly shoves him into the corner, and drills him with a
standing dropkick. Feyr attemps to whip Craven across the ring but
Bill refuses, and smiles at Feyr before yanking him into a brutal
lariat!]




"______SSSSSMMMMMAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"




[Pop!!]




CL: What a brutal counter by Craven. Now lets see what he has in store
for Feyr.

[Bill rocks his smaller competitor with a series of right hands and
throws him off the ropes, drilling him square in the jaw with a big
boot.]




"_____SSSSSMMMMMAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"




FH: Another big shot by Craven, c'mon Xavier, show the big green
buffoon why you're the new enforcer of WMI!

[Craven looks pissed as he shakes the numbness out of the damaged arm
and pulls Feyr up, snapping him over with a suplex.]




"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"




CL: Big suplex by the green monster, its been real back and forth
action in the early going.

[Bill mounts Feyr and drives a number of fists into his face before
pulling him up and shoving him into the corner. he unleashes wicked
shots to the body and face as Xavier tries to cover up. Craven whips
the smaller man hard into the opposite turnbuckles. Craven charges in
but Feyr ducks out of the way and Craven hits the buckles hard, chest
first. Feyr quickly grabs him around the head and planst him into the
mat with a reverse DDT.]




"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"




FH: Nice series of moves by Feyr and he doesn't let up as now he has
mounted Bill and is drving punches into the bridge of his nose.

[Pop for the ferocity of Feyr as he finally rolls off and dares Bill
to his feet. He hits the ropes and drills Craven right between the
eyes with a flying forearm!]

CL: Feyr looks like hes starting to hit stride as hes using his speed
advantage to keep Craven off balance. Feyr hooks Craven for a suplex
but Craven resists the move and forces a fist into the gut , breaking
the hold as Feyr stumbles backward into the ropes. Craven throws a
right hand but Feyr avoids contact.

[Xavier surprises him with a thumb to the eye, and kicks him in the
back of the leg, forcing him to one knee and evening the playing
field. He quickly bars the arm, doing his best to keep Craven on one
knee and apply pressure to the damaged arm.]

FH: Now this is more like it.

[Feyr drives his free arm down across the neck and shoulder. Again.
The crowd screams for Craven as he struggles back to his feet with
Xavier still clamped on his arm.]

CL: Feyr's giving up close to eighty pounds, I have to wonder how long
he'll be able to keep Craven slowed down like this.

[Craven drives his free hands into the gut of Feyr repeatedly, forcing
him to break the hold. Feyr hits the ropes and staggers Bill backward
with a clothesline. Bill leans into the ropes and Feyr is charging
again, taking both men over the top rope and to the floor with a
cactus clothesline!]




"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"




[Hardcore Pop!]




FH: Both men land hard at ringside and the crowd is loving it!!

[Feyr climbs onto the arpon and waits Bill to get to his feet before
he runs down the apron and cannonballs onto Craven, leaving both in a
heap on the floor.]

CL: Feyr charges at Craven...




"_____CCCCCLLLLLAAAAANNNNNGGGGG!!!!!_____"




"_____CCCCCRRRRRAAAAASSSSSHHHHH!!!!!_____"




[MONSTER Poppage!!]




FH: HA! Feyr just speared Craven through the damn guardrail and into
the crowd.

CL: Look at the ref in the ring! He was counting them out but now he's
just thrown his hands in the air and starts screaming at the two to
get back in the ring!

FH: Its a tournament match Chip! He has no choice but to let things
go. Feyr and Craven will bring this building down!!


[Feyr rips a chair away from a fan and destroys it over the tattooed
skull of the Detroit Madman.]




"_____CCCCCRRRRRAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"




[Craven doesn't go all the way down, but he does take a knee. Feyr
snarls and grabs another chair! W~I~N~D~U~P!!!!!]

CL: Oh christ duck Bill!




"_____CCCCCRRRRRAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"




[SICK Pop!]




FH: What a freaking shot! He just belted Craven square in the face and
now Craven is down! god look at the blood!  You can hardly tell Craven
is tattooed green at this point.

CL: Its disgusting. Craven's already busted open. these guys are going
to kill each other Fred. This  is a tournament match for the most
prestigious belt in this business, not a snuff film.

[Feyr drags Craven to his feet with much effort and props him up
against the guardrail. he backs off several feet and retrieves yet
another chair.]

FH: Looks like he wants to get a running start this time and finish
the job.

[Feyr charges forward, brandishing the chair overhead, but as he
swings, Craven steps forward punches the chair into Xavier's own face.
The chair flies out of his hands and he runs headlong into the
barricade!]




"_____CCCCCRRRRRAAAAASSSSSHHHHH!!!!!_____"




CL: Even after all the violence and two skull shattering chair shots,
Craven _still_ has some fight in him!

FH: He's like a freaking zombie.


        CRAVEN!!!     CRAVEN!!!     CRAVEN!!!     CRAVEN!!!


        CRAVEN!!!     CRAVEN!!!     CRAVEN!!!     CRAVEN!!!


        CRAVEN!!!     CRAVEN!!!     CRAVEN!!!     CRAVEN!!!


CL: The crowd is cheering on the green monster as he tries to regain
some of his faculties. Feyr meanwhile is pulling himself up using the
barricade, but doesn't look to be in much better shape than Craven.
and it loos like he's now busted open as well.

FH: FEYR!!!

[Xavier attempts to lariat Bill back into the ringside area, but he
ducks and rockets the smaller man skyward, ending in a rough landing
on  the unforgiving concrete!]




"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!______"




CL: Jesus jumping christ Feyr should get frequent flier miles for that
flight!

[Bill climbs over the guardrail with a sick smile as he retrieves the
remains of the chair he punched into Feyr's face. He raises it over
his head to a monster pop from the crowd, then unceremoniously brings
it down on the skull of the unfortunate Feyr!]




"_____CCCCCRRRRRAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"




[Massive pop from the crowd!]

FH: DQ him ref!

CL: Oh come on Fred! Xavier brought the chair into play.

[Xavier tries to create some space but Craven is in hot pursuit.
Craven drives  boot into the back of the fleeing Feyr that basically
sends him crashing into the announcers table , right in front of Chip
and Fred.]

FH: If either of them touches me I'll sue!

CL: Shut up Fred. The battle has come to our doorstep and I have to
say, these two are even scarier up close. And covered in blood its
even worse. Bill drills Feyr with fist after fist as he pulls him to
his feet and drags him onto the apron. This doesn't look good!

[Craven wraps both his hands around the beck of Feyr and the crowd
explodes. Thy get louder as Bill shifts and eyes the announcers table
at ringside.]

FH: You can't do that Bill. Ref stop him!

CL: If he hits the Thunder Melter off the apron Feyr is freaking dead!

[As Craven lifts Feyr spits a mouthfull of blood into Craven's face,
stunning him long enough to shift his weight towards the weakened arm
and grab him around the skull as he pulls Craven off the apron with
him, countering the Thunder Melter with a modified DDT that sends both
men through the table!]




"_____CCCCCRRRRRAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"




"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"






                                "PVW     PVW     PVW     PVW     PVW"



                                "PVW     PVW     PVW     PVW     PVW"



                                "PVW     PVW     PVW     PVW     PVW"



                                "PVW     PVW     PVW     PVW     PVW"





CL: Good god both men just left our table in splinters. Its a mass of
humanity, wood and metal right in front of us, and if thats not
enough, both these men, these _monsters_ are getting _up!_

FH: Its like Freddy Vs. Jason. These guys just do not stop!

[Slow right hand by Bill, answered by Feyr! Craven. Feyr. Craven.
Feyr. Xavier finally finds discretion the better part of valor and
rolls into the ring to try and catch his breathe.]

CL: Finally the action has returned to the ring and maybe we can
finally see the end of this barbaric encounter.

[Craven is in the ring right after Feyr but Xavier stuns him with an
elbow drop across the back of the head. And another. He stomps on the
injured arm for good measure, and locks in the painkiller!]

FH: Piankiller on the injured arm in the middle of the ring!!

CL: Bill looks like hes almost laughing as the ref asks for a
submission.

[Feyr pulls harder but Craven manages to shift his body in a way that
allows him to slide his leg under the bottom rope. Feyr hangs on as
the ref counts and laughs in his face as he threatens a DQ before
finally breaking the hold and sliding out of the ring and retrieving
another chair!]

FH: Xavier's got another chair! I smell the end!

[Feyr's drives the edge of the chair into the shoulder of Craven. And
again. Feyr backs off long enough for a bleeding Craven to find his
feet, then bring the chair down onto his skull.]




"_____CCCCCRRRRRAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"




[Heel pop!]




CL: Another harrowing chairshot by Feyr! He's finally ettemtping a
pin! Could this mercifully be over!?!




...1!!!









...2!!!









...3!?!?






[Relieved pop!]






CL: NOOOO! The ref is holding up two fingers!! Craven somehow kicked
out at two and nine-tenths! HOW!?!

[Feyr drags a prone Craven to the corner and somehow muscles him into
a seated position on the top rope before retrieving the chair...]




"_____CCCCCRRRRRAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"




FH: That one did it! Craven is _out_ on the top rope after that one!
Feyr just needs to hit the Purge so we can call this match good and
maybe, just maybe WMI can be finished with Craven once and for all!

[Feyr drops the remnants of the chair onto the mat positioned so that
Craven's skull will land on it. He climbs inside the second ropes and
reaches to hook the head of Craven but to the delight, and awe of the
crowd, Craven shocks Feyr with a sickening headbutt. He qucikly grabs
the stunned Feyr around the throat, lifts him off the ropes and drives
him into the mat with a Thunder Melter out of nowhere!!!]




"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"




[HUUUUUUUUUUUGE Finisher pop!]

CL: THUNDER MELTER OUT OF NOWHERE!! CRAVEN LANDS ON TOP!









...1!!!









...2!!!









...3!?!

FH: XAVIER KICKED OUT!!

[The ref calls for the bell. The crowd goes nuts!]

CL: A fraction of a second too late Fred! But give him credit! Anybody
that kicks out of the Thunder Melter at all, after the match these two
had, is one helluva competitor.

FH: Xavier Feyr is one tough son of a bitch. He had him. At least hes
come as close as anyone lately. What a match.

[Suddenly -- HUGE BOOS!]

FH: NOW we're talking!

[Marcus Manson comes flying down the aisle out of nowhere! He's
carrying his trusty lead pipe, with electrical tape grip.]

CL: Doesn't it figure, WMI's Enforcer is about to intervene.

FH: They can't let the rest of PVW think that they're just going to
let Craven walk all over them!

[Manson hits the ring, but Craven is ready for him! Manson swings with
the pipe but Craven not only blocks, but CATCHES IT! The two monsters
glare at each other.]

CL: If looks could kill; BOTH Manson and Craven would be dead right
now.

FH: Just Craven, I think. Manson's scarier.

CL: Are you KIDDING me?

[Both men still clutching the pipe, Craven fires off a right hand, and
another, but Manson blocks the third and plants a kick into Craven's
gut. Craven takes a step back, opening enough distance between the two
men for Manson to pull him forward with the pipe, delivering a
makeshift short-arm clothesline.]

FH: And Craven is down!

CL: But Manson isn't letting him stay down!

[Feyr joins Manson and the two men pull Craven to his feet, and tie
him up in the ropes... taking punches the whole time.]

CL: Craven's still putting up a fight, but come on now, this isn't
necessary!

FH: Sure it is. They're sending a message.

[Craven kicks at Marcus but Manson slams his pipe into William's knee.
Manson then lays the pipe into Craven's ribs, as Feyr takes potshots
to Craven's head. After one last big shot to the ribcage, Manson calls
for Craven's release.]

CL: They're untying him from the rope now... are they done?

FH: Now who's kidding who?

[As soon as he is freed Craven takes a few shots at Feyr, but Manson
bashes him across the back with his pipe. Feyr hooks Craven's head and
takes off towards the opposite side.]

CL: Oh no not...

FH: NATURAL SELECTION!

[Feyr leaps over the top rope, bulldogging Cravne's neck onto it.
After a second Xavier releases, landing on his feet outside the ring.
Craven slingshots backwards right into Manson's waiting hands... and a
leaping Ace Crusher.]

FH: AND A WIDOWMAKER!

CL: FOR GOD'S SAKE SOMEBODY NEEDS TO STOP THIS!

[Feyr is back in the ring, and he and Manson stand over the downed
Craven. Feyr pulls him up once more and Manson grabs Craven's wrist.]

CL Oh no, haven't they done enough?

FH: They always pay their debts, apparently Craven owes them quite a
bit.

[Manson wraps Craven's arm behind his head, and Feyr hammerlocks his
free arm to keep him from striking out... Manson cocks his fist
back...]

FH: HEART PUNCH!

CL: GOOD LORD! I'VE NEVER SEEN CRAVEN CRUMPLE TO THE MAT LIKE THAT!

FH: The green freak is down!

[Craven falls in a heap, Manson leans back into the corner, surveying
his work, and Feyr looks on.]

FH: Widowmakers Inc may have lost this battle, but it looks like
they're going to win the war!

[The Mercenary suddenly appears at the top of the entrance way, mic in
hand...]

Merc: You know Feyr, you've been wanting to be me for years, and now
you think you've finally accomplished that goal.... taking the
enforcer role with WMI. Well, congrats... you've got the job. But,
it'll take a hell of a lot more than that to be me. I know what you
guys had planned tonight, so I took it upon myself to go see Lillith
while you where fighting Craven. So, First off, you'll have to stop
taking orders from some skanky ho...

[Feyr who is still not 100% with it after the Thundermelter is taking
offense, makes a move to come through the ropes and make Merc eat
those words, but stops short when Merc starts to speak again ..]

Merc: Uh uh uh Sparky. You don't want to be doing that. You take one
more step and I take this little remote control..

[Merc pulls a single button remote out from behind his back ...
Manson puts his shoulder on Feyr.

Merc:... and your woman becomes nothing more than a grease spot on the
canvas. If you look up...

[Camera pans up to the ceiling where we see a shadowy female figure
suspended from an I-beam ..]

Merc:... you'll see that I'm not kidding. I will drop her. Don't think
for a minute that I won't.... and her blood, and probably some guts,
will be on your hands. You wanted to play with the big boys, Feyr,
well, welcome to the big time. Consider this to be lesson number 1.

[Manson and Feyr look at one another big eyed.  Merc turns to go
backstage but stops...]

Merc: And let this be lesson number two, never bluff.

[Merc pushes the button on the remote, and as soon as he does, the
female figure that was hanging above the ring comes hurtling towards
Earth. The crowd screams in unison and even Marcus Manson's jaw drops,
but even before it peaks, the body hits the center of the ring,
shattering into dozens of pieces. Shatters? Yes, shatters because it
is only a mannequin dressed like Lilith, not the real thing.
Recovering quickly from the scare, Xavier picks up a forearm, stares
at it, then takes off through the ropes and up the rampway with Manson
close behind, brandishing the plastic limb like a weapon. But before
he comes even remotely close to catching Merc, Merc disappears behind
the curtain.]

FH: The Mercenary is one sick bastard and he is going to PAY!!

CL: WMI Keeps making powerful enemies. They're playing a dangerous
game, but so is the Mercenary! What a night!  Craven joins Gionet and
Cole into the semifinals leaving only one match.

FH: Oddly The Mercenary is set to fight in that.  You can bet Feyr
will be down to break his neck!  Thank god that was just a ploy.  The
cops have been involved in PVW shows way too much.

CL: You are worried about that?  What about the human life.

[An attention grabbing groove greets everyone from over the PA system
just at the right time with everyone shooken up ... Mike Watt's "Piss
Bottle Man" plays. From out of the back, in a 1960s style gray, and
very sharply angled, business suit, complete with skinny black tie, is
the PVW's Double Champion: Gibson Hayes. Hayes is all smiles and waves
to the crowd, occasionally remarking about something which angers a
few fans on his way ringside. Gibson, of course, has a house
microphone on hand and smiles that oh so insincere smile of his.]

Gibson Hayes: Good evening America!

[The audience does not seem to like Gibson, judging from their
reaction.]

GH: No need to shower me with so much love and praise... wait, yes
there is much need to shower me with love and praise since I am the
best of the best in PVW.

[Various other wrestlers are mentioned but Gibson ignores these
cries.]

GH: I, America's Greatest Product - Gibson Hayes, stand before you
with not one but two, count'em, two championships. I have the breasts
of America pressing into my shoulder on one side and the bosom of
great mother Television rubbing up against me on the other side. Yes,
indeed, it is great to be me and great to be an American!

[Pro-USA chants begin, but they die off since people remember Gibson
is the one saying this stuff.]

GH: Instead of being a headliner, instead of having my name in lights
all the time, as is my due for my role in defending American honor
and virtue what happens? I am shoved aside for some dinks fighting for
a championship that has none of the patriotism, panache or prestige
as my National title or my Network title! I am twice the man any of
those slackers backstage will ever be! I have defended this Network
title more times than Chris Hartt had to go back to the looney bin to
find his smile! I've even defended this National title more than Hartt
ever had tobother doing  when it was the pitiful Phoenix title.

[The pro-Chris Hartt faithful object to Gibson's viewpoint.]

GH: You may say: no Gibson, Hartt defended his title. Well you are
dumb! Hartt didn't defend jack! He just sucked and that's the God's
honest truth. He just sat there and sucked in this ring, sucked the
very life out of the Heritage title! That's why crappy people like
Johnny Styles talk so much about the Heritage belt - because they know
it symbolized PVW back when it was horrible. Because they know it
symbolized PVW BGH - Before Gibson Hayes!

[Hayes is on fire tonight... and won't stop talking.]

GH: When I bask in the glory of being me, I know you people in the
audience agree with me. When I survey my kingdom I realize that we all
know that no matter what garbage is shoved down your throats we all
know that Gibson Hayes is truly the best PVW has to offer. When I look
out into this crowd I see people who agree that there is nothing
better in this world than being American. When I gaze out into the
tired, huddled masses yearning to be free I see people who would
defend the purity of American blood.  When I stare into the eyes of
all of my fellow Americans I see a people who refuse to sully ourblood
with foreign deviltry... or do I?

[The index finger shoots up.]

GH: We are, after all, in San Antonio...

[Audiences love when you mention their town by name.]

GH: ...and as we all know San Antonio is a hub of unAmerican activity!

[Hate rains down on Gibson Hayes as he begins to pace in the center of
the ring.]

GH: You see, San Antonio is home to some federation called ACW, or
ACDelco or something. From what I gathered, this little pimple of a
promotion acts as a feeder league to something called the UWF.

[Hooray for hometown federations and their parents! A couple of young
men in the front row, students and wrestlers for the ACW, stand up,
proudly displaying t-shirts with an ACW logo on the front of their
chests. Tom Landis, the trainer for ACW, remains seated and pulls out
a set of keys, jingling them and drawing the attention of one of his
men.]

GH: I was fine with this until I learned that the UWF is... is...
CANADIAN!

[People love Canada... well no, not really, but they hate Gibson so
they'll cheer.]

GH: Well this is something I will not stand! Having good,
hardworking American jobs being outsourced to some two bit nation that
sits on or head like one of those feeder birds on larger, better
animals. ACW is nothing more than a glorified slave ship! No self
respecting American would ever want to work for Canadians! I mean, if
I could be bothered to learn the names of any of their so-called
wrestlers I would be able  to match at least three or four of them to
people the FBI are looking for due to their involvement in anti-
American activities! Speaking of anti-American scoundrels...

[Hayes scans the audience until his eyes find Tom Landis.]

GH: ...Judas Arnold is among you right now! A man so full of self
loathing and low self esteem sits in the audience right now! A man
so contemptible and hideous he could not find a good, hard working
American woman to marry!

[Gibson slowly shakes his head.]

GH: No, no, no, no, no! This man, if we can truly call him that, went
off and married a CANADIAN!

[Pacing faster, back and forth, Gibson is beside himself in
confusion.]

GH: I... I can't wrap my head around such a thing! A... CANADIAN! How
could you, this guy I only recently heard of and obviously has meant
so little to the United States, marry a foreigner? I know you don't
amount to much. I know your contribution to America is almost nil. I
know you have probably only just in the last few years learned to
vocalize thoughts. I know that your rudimentary speech patterns
probably sound like poetry to single celled organisms... wait, I've
cracked the code! You married a Canadian because it was one of the
only species of creatures that could understand you and your
gibberish!

[Landis, who to this point has taken all of Gibson's comments pretty
well, leans forward in his seat with a not-so-happy look on his face.
A couple of the ACW students start to get up, but Tom Landis sits and
continues to listen.]

GH: Kick down Sparky! No one cares about you or your boo-hooing that I
made fun of your cave lady. No one cares that you consort with...
with... Canadians...

[A look of disgust crosses Gibson's face and then he spits, trying to
expunge the vile taste of Canada out of his mouth.  Landis meanwhile,
seems to be getting more and more agitated by the double champ's
tirade.]

GH: ...ugh. I think I am going to vomit. How can you Alamo chumps
stand to work for Canadians? That's like being... hell, I don't have
the words to describe it. I figure you guys must be mentally retarded
or inbred or both. Obviously people like you can't be Americans,
seeing that you sold out my America to pick up a paycheck. America,
and I, weep at seeing you pitiful creatures whore yourselves in such
an unseemly manner.

[Hayes shoots a look at Landis, as the veteran wrestler gets to his
feet now, standing next to his students and essentially daring Gibson
to come out of the ring and tell him the same thing to his face.  The
student previously distracted by shiny objects, "Overkill" Joey
Malone, takes off his t-shirt and throws it at Gibson.]

GH: Those guys are retarded, but what is your excuse Landis? Never
mind, I don't care. You're obviously just here to stir up trouble, you
traitor. Don't you dare mess with good, old fashioned American
wrasslin'. We don't have 5 50 yard lines, we don't do the rouge and we
sure as hell don't wimp out and have only 3 downs here in America. You
can take your Roughriders or Rough Riders and slink on back to
Canadastan! You don't want none of this American Hero! Go home
Benedict Landis, have your tea and crumpets, sniff your hunchback
wife's butt and spell things the wrong way in Canadastan and
stop polluting my America!

[Gibson smiles that toothy smile of his, and it's clear by his body
language that Landis is just about at his boiling point.]

GH: Except... you're not why I am out here. No, instead I am out here
to introduce something I believe is sorely lacking in PVW - an
objective voice. My campaign in 2008 for Chief Executive Official in
Charge of Fairness and Balance in Officiating and Decision Making, or
CEOCFBODM. And you all know how this important position was neglected
by the  higher ups in PVW, despite the urgent need for fair
officiating in this league. And I thought to myself: Gibson, what do
you need? I thought long and hard and was at my wits end.

[Hayes pauses to allow people to insult him.]

GH: Then I remembered I had someone I could call. So I phoned up a few
old pals in good ole Tuscaloosa, part of Real America. Part of the
America that jerks like Tom Landis betrayed when he went after Canajun
beavers in some lurid attempt to revive the long dead fur trade! No,
no, instead of taking all of the threats against me and vanquishing
them by humiliating them in the center of the ring, fair and square,
through my natural athleticism, I knew I needed something more,
something that would make PVW open its eyes to the corruption and
greed that festers in the league, that makes America and her only
honest son, me, Gibson Hayes, weep. I needed someone to spin things my
way. I needed a campaign manager. So I, being a fine specimen of
American brilliance, called in the only campaign manager you'd ever
need. Allow me to introduce, to PVW, and reintroduce to the wrestling
world the #3 manager of all time according to Illustrated Wrestling
Weekly. From Moscow, Idaho he is a WWO hall of famer and has managed
champions from  Latex Lex to Tracy Hudson to "The Man, The Mirth, The
Litigation", my mentor, Tyrone "Purple" Hayes...

FH: I knew it!  That is why Gibson is so great!  Tyrone Hayes is an
ICON in this industry!!!

CL: He isn't ...


...none other than Todd "The Rod" Johnstone!


*** MAJOR HEEL HEAT!!! ***


"Lift your head up high and blow your brains out!"

[After that sound clip from The Bloodhound Gang's "Lift Your Head Up
High and Blow Your Brains Out" blasts over the PA "Shut Up" by the
Bloodhound Gang hits the speakers and out waddles the rotund manager
named Todd "The Rod" Johnstone. Johnstone is wearing a bile colored
plaid suit with a scab red dress shirt, jaundice yellow tie and a
brown belt from Sears. Johnstone uses his black cane with silver tips
as a way of removing fan hands from his way. Todd is smoking a big
stogie and manages to get his large frame into the ring. The short,
bald and fat manager is enjoying the bit of  hatred that is being
funneled his way from those that remember him from his prior stints in
the wrestling world.]

GH: Todd, any words for the fans?

[Gibson seems very pleased, rising up and down excitedly on his toes,
and happily hands Johnstone the microphone. Johnstone shoots Gibson a
look but then his face contorts into a very disturbing grin.]

Todd "The Rod" Johnstone: Rot in hell you worthless plebeians.

[Johnstone tosses the microphone over his right shoulder into the
waiting hands of Gibson Hayes.]

GH: ...otherwise known as Tom Landis's wife's uterus!

[...and with that snarky comment Todd and Gibby begin to make their
way out of the ring. But what Hayes doesn't count on is Tom Landis
breaking free of his students' grasp and jumping over the barrier to
ringside. The double champion reacts a few seconds later, spinning
around in surprise just as Landis dives headfirst under the bottom
rope and rolls to his feet.]

CL: This is UNCALLED FOR!

FH: HAHAHA!  Serves these Texans right!

CL: You can't be enjoying this Fred.

FH: Oh, but I am!

[Johnstone, ignoring his charge, drop, flops and rolls his obese form
out of the ring, taking an every man for himself stance on the issue
at hand. Gibby Hayes baseball slides out of the ring just as Landis is
getting up. The audience loves and hates this moment all at once,
loving that Landis is doing something and hating that Hayes has,
again, high tailed it out of somewhere. Gibson just keeps flapping his
gums about Landis's wife and his love of America as he and Johnstone
walk towards the back, with Todd "holding" Gibson back as he tries to
go back the ring.tions regarding Tom's wife and patriotism, Landis
threatens to go after the Real American Hero but members of PVW
security is on him before he can follow. Landis is quickly brought to
the mat by the rather large men, and as the crowd begins to cheer
the ACW students hop the barrier now too to join their mentor in the
ring.]

CL: TOM LANDIS HAS HAD ENOUGH!!! KNOCK THE DISRESPECT OUT OF HIM TOM!

FH: He can't hit a PVW superstar and American Hero!!!!

CL: Dammit sometimes you have to be a man and stand up for what's
right!

[Before the situation can get out of control with security, Tom Landis
talks his guys down and leaves willingly in the custody of the
security  team. The other ACW wrestlers follow behind, but not before
Tom receives a big pop from the hometown faithful.]

CL: Gibson Hayes crossed the line!

FH: I guess those kids won't get much of a look after all.

CL: I can't believe the gall of Gibson Hayes.  I have word something
is going down with Feyr.

FH: Did he catch Mercenary!?!

[We cut backstage where the Widowmakers are gathered around ... Camera
zooms in as the janitors door is hoped and Lilith has been found
hogtied in a janitors closet....  You hear - "He is DEAD" as we cut
back to the announcers.]

FH: Thank god Lilith is alright!

CL: I have to admit I am glad to see her alirght too.

FH: However the Mercenary _wont't_ be alright.

CL: What a wild night it's been.  After the show I am going to need a
drink!  However the show is still not over.

FH: What's next?

CL: Who know's you tell me!

HD: Introducing first ... From Newark, New Jersey ... Standing at six
foot three and
weighing in at two hundred and thirty five pounds ...


THE BADBOY ...


RANDY ACORN !!!


[The guitar riff for "Cult of Personality" by Living Colour hits the
speakers. Stepping through the curtains is PVW's newest resident, "Bad
Boy" Randy Acorn. Dressed in a black t-shirt that simply reads "SSN"
across the front of it and a pair of pearl-white wrestling trunks with
matching boots, Acorn steps through the curtains and is greeted with
disdain by the fans in the crowd. Flanking Acorn on each side are a
male and female dressed in suits, looking very "corporate".]

## Look into my eyes, what do you see? ##
## Cult of Personality ##
## I've been everything you want to be ##
## I'm the Cult of Personality ##
## Like Mussolini and Kennedy ##
## I'm the Cult of Personality ##
## Cult of Personality ##
## Cult of Personality ##

[The three of them make their way down the aisle, Acorn making
sporadic comments to ringside fans that are heckling him as he passes,
while the other two just keep their straight faces while looking
directly to the ring.]

## Neon lights, A Nobel Prize ##
## The mirror speaks, the reflection lies ##
## You don't have to follow me ##
## Only you can set me free ##
## I sell the things you need to be ##
## I'm the smiling face on your T.V. ##
## I'm the Cult of Personality ##
## I exploit you, still you love me ##
## I tell you one and one makes three ##
## I'm the Cult of Personality ##
## Like Joseph Stalin and Gandhi ##
## I'm the Cult of Personality ##
## Cult of Personality ##
## Cult of Personality ##

[Acorn and his two associates accompanying him reach ringside, as
Acorn climbs onto the ring apron and turns to the crowd, extending his
arms out drawing in their boos as if they empower him even more]

## Neon lights, A Nobel Prize ##
## A leader speaks, that leader dies ##
## You don't have to follow me ##
## Only you can set me free ##
## You gave me fortune ##
## You gave me fame ##
## You gave me power in your God's name ##
## I'm every person you need to be ##
## I'm the Cult of Personality ##

[After drawing in the boos, Acorn leans down with some instruction for
his associates that came with him, and then enters the ring]

CL: Randy Acorn seems Cocky here tonight.

FH: More like motivated.

CL: The Mercenary can't be 100% after last Heatwave.

FH: Too bad.

HD: His opponent ... Wrestling out of the bunker ... Standing at six
foot three and weighing in at two hundred and sixty five pounds ...


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. As the smoke clears the music continues to
blare, but nobody emerges from the entrance way.]

CL: What is going on?

FH: The Mercenary is so battered he couldn't even make it to the ring!

CL: Folks we aren't sure what's going on here. The Mercenary's music
played, but nobody emerged from the curtains.

FH: He took one too many kicks to the head last Heatwave from the
Widowmakers.  How can anyone throw away such a golden ticket?

[While Randy Acorn stands inside the ring with a confused look on his
face.  He points to his arm to be raised as PVW head of officiating
when suddenly a new music hits.]

#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. One tall and strong, one
somewhat shorter and slimmer with a big, bristling red beard.]

#all inside it's so frustrating as I drift from town to town.#

#Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die,#

Zeke: That's about enough of that.

[Music cuts, bearded man speaks.]

Zeke: Randy, if you please, Livestock and I would like to be the first
to congratulate you on advancing in the tournament.  Yeah, yeah, let's
hear it, 'cause I BOUGHT THE MERCENARY'S SPOT IN THE TOURNAMENT!
ZING!

[Boos start to rain down on Zeke and Livestock like manna from heaven.
Well, really, it's more like trash from the crowd, but both Zeke and
Livestock (he's the bigger, muscular one if you've forgotten) soak it
up like the love it.]

Zeke: So now, Mister Zappa, if you please ... go up into the ring and
lie down so that Mister Acorn can pin you.

[Livestock looks slightly confused, and ready perhaps to object when a
man blows past them both at top speed.  It's Duke Martin, and he walks
down with what appears to be a folded up piece of paper... He hands it
to the assigned PVW referee, Jay O'Riley, who opens it up and begins
to read it.]

Zeke: Hey ... what's the deal?  You don't know how to say “excuse me”?
Geez...

CL: It appears the referee is handing a note to Herk Douglas.

FH: Someone tell us what's going on!

[Randy Acorn again points to his arm to be raised.  Herk Douglas
raises the microphone to his mouth.]

HD: Ladies and Gentlemen ...I have just been handed this note.  It
reads...

"Dear Mr. Acorn,

As you are well aware of The Mercenary has been looking to sell his
assigned spot in the field of eight.  Usually this would be a illegal
by the rules of the tournament field, but it appears you had people on
your side attempting to purchase this spot to insure you found
yourself in a spot to make the finals.  In attempt to bring respect to
this tournament I have out-bid your benefactors.  So tonight you will
have to earn your opportunity at the PVW World Championship.  I am
proud to introduce to you, your opponent ... Oh and Randy I wish I was
there to see the look on your face right about now, but I will take
satisfaction knowing you wont ever wear such a respected title like
the PVW World Heavyweight Championship...

Your friend,

DW"

[The pounding bass of "Heavy Metal Kings" By Jedi Mind tricks rocks
the arena, and the rampway begins to fill with smoke.]

CL: THAT'S CHASE WILLIAMS!?!?!

FH: Who is DW?

CL: I only know one DW... But can it be DEX WILLINGHAM WHO PURCHASED
THIS SPOT!?!

[Randy Acorn rolls out of the ring shaking his head no.  His manager,
Broderick Ezekiel Craven shouts over his mic, and is stunned as it
seems to have been cut off.]

##I murder you and laugh##
##I'm Barry Sanders slashing through the path##
##you a magician's assistant, I'm sawin' you in half##

[A figure appears atop the entryway, his shadow looming behind a
shroud of smoke. He emerges, standing smugly at the edge of the ramp,
arms crossed.  Chase Williams points towards the ring as the fans go
crazy popping from the former PVW Heavyweight Champion!]

##you a heathan that rely on the beast##
##I'm a demon at the fire crucifyin' the priest##
##I shine over beats##
##a motherfuckin' beast on the mic##
##I'm a lion out the jungle, raw meat what I like##

[He starts to move, shoving aside Zeke Craven, who, trying to stop
Chase, goes down like a ton of bricks.  Chase shadows a few punches as
he ascends the rampway, focusing solely on the ring. He reaches
ringside and climbs the stairs, stepping over the top rope. He circles
the ring and turns towards where SSN's chosen one is standing and
motions to him that he is getting his belt back!]

CL: CHASE WILLIAMS HAS SOME HOW JOINED THE FIELD OF EIGHT!!!!

FH: I don't know what to say ...

CL: Folks even Fred is speechless!



[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

        One on One, World Title Tourney Match:
        Chase Williams
        v. Randy Acorn

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]


*DING!* *DING!* *DING!*


FH: I will say if anyone deserves a second chance it's Chase Williams.

CL: Randy Acorn is starting to get back in the ring, but Chase
Williams takes a step forward and Acorn backs off again.

FH: Will Acorn just get himself counted out.

CL: I don't think Chase Williams would be happy with that.  He
apparently is Dex Willingham's hand selected PVW origional at getting
back at Randy Acorn.

FH: If Dex outbidded SSN for Mercenary's spot then how come he didn't
just sign Acorn in the start to that huge contract.

CL: Because Dex was always about tradition.  Acorn was expected to
sign the same deal legends like Brian Young and Rob Cole signed.

FH: That was his first mistake.

[Acorn goes to get in again and this time Chase Williams takes a step
backwards inviting the SSN's chosen one into the ring.]

CL: The Badboy is in and we look to finally have a match!

FH: I still can't believe my eyes!! The king has found a way! Prepare
his coronation!

CL: It is a little hard to believe Fred but after all the things that
happened that denied Chase a chance in this tournament, he still
somehow found a way in.

[Chase muscles Acorn into the corner and begins driving his forearm
into the bridge of Acorn's nose! He grabs Acorn in a thai clinch and
forces his head down to slam aleaping knee into his face that rocks
him backward before he slumps into the buckles.]

FH: What punishment in the corner! Chase is mauling Acorn! He's a man
on a mission.

CL: Chase has his marching orders and he isn't wasting any time.

[Chase charges forward and further savages Acorn with a vicious knee
to the face!]

CL: Acorn is in trouble here! Williams drags Acorn out of the corner
and throws him off the ropes.

[As the Badboy rebounds, Chase forces him into the air, catching him
on the way down with another nasty knee to the face.]


"_____CCCCCRRRRRAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"


CL: Another knee to the face of Acorn. Good god if his nose isn't
broken I'll be shocked.

FH: Acorn better find some offense or this one might be over soon.
Chase is like a pitbull!

[Williams mounts himself over the chest of the Badboy and begins
swinging down with hard right hands.  The referee tries to warn
Williams, but it falls on deaf ears.]

CL: Referee Jay O'Riley's warning is being ignored by Chase Williams.

FH: If you give Williams marching orders then you move aside and let
him get the job done.

[Finally at the count of four ... Williams leaps off Acorn and yanks
him to his feet.  The groggy Acorn tries to fight back...]

FH: Looks like Chase is looking for a gutwrench powerbomb.

[He does indeed have his hands locked around his waist, but Acorn
resists, trying to break the hold but Chase ends the struggle with
sharp elbow to the middle of Acorn's spine, then quickly muscles him
high into the air and crashing hard to the mat.]


"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


*** Big move poppage! ***

CL: What a gutwrench powerbomb by Williams! What power he has
displayed in this match.

[Williams climbs on top of Acorn and begins grinding his elbow into
the cheek and eyesocket of Acorn before O'Riley is on him again
forcing him to break the hold. He yells unpleasantries at the ref
before dropping a series of knees onto the shoulder of the prone
Acorn.]

FH: Williams beginning to work the arm. No doubt setting up that
vicious armbar he uses to finish matches.

CL: Williams has been methodical here tonight, but Acorn has been
valiant in his effort considering he thought he would be facing the
mercenary.

FH: Acorn is a bad man, but he may be over matched tonight.

CL: Chase hooks a leg .. He is looking to end things early!

FH: Why not.


ONE ...


TWO ...


THREE ???


*** POP THAT TURNS TO DISSAPOINTMENT JEERS! ***


CL: So Close.  Acorn just got a shoulder up.  Chase Williams isn't
slowing down however. He yanks Acorn up ...


*** GROOOOANING POP! ***


[Acorn out of desperation or was it planned? Lifted his arm up and
drilled the Concieted Bastard with a devistating low blow ...  The
referee got into the ear of Acorn threatening to DQ him, but Acorn
stumbled to the ropes to help himself stay on his feet.]

CL: Both men are walking a thin line here tonight with the referee.

FH: There is a lot on the line.  You can tell the referee is very
hesitant about calling for the bell.

[Acorn charges and drops Williams with a running knee lift as Williams
pushed himself back to his feet.  Acorn then drops down mounting
Williams for a little retribution and begins smashing the blunt end of
his right fist into the forehead of Chase Williams.  The referee grabs
Acorn by the shoulder and Acorn storms to his feet and gets right into
Jay O'Riley's face.]

CL: Acorn doesn't look happy!  He is yelling at the ref telling him to
stay the hell back.  Who does he think he is?

FH: He has the power of SSN behind him.

[As Williams pushed himself to his feet .. Acorn fired off with a Chop
Block taking the bigger man down.  Acorn drives the blunt in of his
fist into the side of The Concieted Bastard's head.  He drives it down
again ...  Acorn off the ropes and grabs Williams head as he pushes
his way up - ]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUD___"


CL: Big DDT by Acorn and he hooks a leg!

FH: It could be over!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THR ---




[... No Chase with a strong kick out.  Acorn wastes no time and right
back on the attack.  He hits the ropes and drops a knee right to the
temple of Williams.  Acorn stands up as the jeers pour in.  The former
PVW Heavyweight Champion pushes himself and right into the awaiting
arms of the SSN's chosen one ....]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


CL: Big Belly-to-Belly suplex by Acorn.  He has knocked loose the
cobwebs and giving it to Chase Williams.  Acorn now drops down and
locks on a Brazilian Armbar!

FH: Acorn is controlling the match now.  If Acorn can control the pace
then he can keep the fans from pumping up Chase Williams.  It's so odd
to say that.  Didn't these morons just hate him last Heatwave?

CL: The fans respect Chase and he appears to be Dex Willingham's
appointed savior.

[Acorn finally drops the armbar and mounts a dazed Chase Williams and
begins to lay multiple elbows ...]

FH: Nice appointed savior.

CL: Finally referee Jay O'Riley has broken it up!


*** JEERING BOO'S ***


FH: The fans love Randy Acorn.

CL: You need to get your ears checked Fred.

[Chase Williams begins to push himself up again and Acorn is right
back on the attack.  He drops back and nails Williams with a dropkick
to the knee.  Williams stumbles backwards ... Acorn hits the ropes and
charges, but Williams gets a boot up and Acorn stumbles back and
Williams grabs the back of Acorns head and tips him up and over the
top ropes and to the outside!]

CL: Acorn sent to the outside!!!

FH: Look at Williams though he is still shaking off that pure
brutality by Randy Acorn.

[Williams drops down and rolls out.  He begins to approach Acorn who
drops down and begins to beg Williams off.  Williams raises his fist,
but before he can Acorn jabs a thumb right into his eye.  Williams
stumbles backwards and Acorn back on the attack like a rabid dog.
Acorn grabs the back of Williams head and slams it into the side of
the ring apron.  He then quickly drops down and takes the right knee
out again like he did earlier.  Acorn then turns and grabs the ring
steps .. He lifts it and turns -- ]


"___CRRRRAAAAASSSHHH___"


CL: GOODNESS!!!! Acorn just slammed down the set of ring steps on
Chase Williams knee!

FH: Acorn is looking to tear Williams knee to shreds. If Chase can't
walk he can't land Moment of Clarity.

CL: Chase has proved many times he isn't a one trick pony.  He can
beat you in a handful of ways.

FH: What are you Chase's new best friend forever?  You just hate
anyone that stands up against SSN.

CL: I must admit it's nice to see Chase Williams stand at the side of
the company who made him a iconic star.

FH: Zeke Craven said we are onto bigger things Chip.  GET OVER it!

[Acorn rolls Williams back into the ring.  He follows Williams pulls
him to his feet .. Chase is gingerly on that right knee and Acorn
locks him and hits a Belly-To-Back Suplex followed by Belly-To-Belly,
He then leaps up flexing to the crowd and taunting ...]


*** MASSIVE HEEL HEAT! ***


CL: Acorn now drops down with a cover.




ONE ...




TWO ...




*** FACE POP!!! ***




CL: Williams with a shoulder up!

FH: Well we know Williams has a ton of fight in him.  Acorn is going
to have to finish him off to get this win.

CL: Not many men have "finished" Chase Williams off.  Just ask Caleb
Foley. Acorn is back up and he is ripping off the top turnbuckle in
the corner.  He is ignoring Jay O'Riley and taking things in his own
hands.

FH: Why not when you have the full backing of the most powerful
enitity on professional wrestling SSN.  You don't have to follow the
rules!

[Acorn yanks the top padding off in the corner.  Chase has now made it
to his feet.  Acorn grabs the back of Williams head and charges him
towards the exposed turnbuckle ...]


*** FACE POP!!! ***


CL: WILLIAMS WITH A FOOT UP BLOCKING IT!!!!!!




"___SMAAAAAAAASH___"




*** HELL YEAH SUCKAH COUNTER!!! ***




[Williams slammed Acorn's face right into the exposed turnbuckle ...
Acorn stumbles backwards and falls to the ground and flops like a fish
out of the water.  The Badboy rolls under the ropes and to the
outside.  Williams is out right after him!]

CL: Williams is ready for a fight!  HARD right hand ... ANOTHER!!!
Acorn is reeling!!!

FH: And they are headed right this way!

[Williams slams Acorn's head down onto the broadcaster's table.]




"___CLAAAANK___"




"___FIZZZZZ___"




[Chip Lester and Fred Hoyle got out of dodge as Williams stands ontop
of the broadcasting booth and pulls Acorn to his feet.  He sets him up
as if he is going to piledrive him _through_ the broadcasting booth,
but Acorn has enough fight left in him to back body drop him down to
the table.]

CL: Test ...  Testing ....  Folks the fight has been brought onto the
broadcasting booth.  Acorn just countered a big piledriver.  Williams
is laying ontop of the table... Acorn has Williams legs and he TURNS
HIM INTO HIS NEWARK KNIFE HOLD!!!!

[Acorn's finisher the Texas Cloverleaf right onto the broadcasting
table!!!!  Referee Jay O'Riley is out and trying to explain to Acorn
that he can't finish Williams on the outside only inside the ring!]

CL: Williams appears to be tapping out!  But it's not doing any good
this isn't a falls count anywhere match.

FH: Does this thing work?

CL: And we have Fred back.

FH: Damn right you do!  Did you see Williams tap?

CL: I did, but it's not a legal finish.

[Finally Acorn throws Williams legs down in frustration.  He points to
his arm to be raised, but the official refuses.  Acorn props down off
the table and shoves referee Jay O'Riley ...  O'Riley is right in
Acorn's face warning him!]

CL: Jay O'Riley isn't taking Acorn's abuse!

FH: He better watch it.  He may not have a job tomorrow.

CL: Who does Randy Acorn think he is?  I mean respect the company that
pays you! Acorn turns and Williams is propped up on the broadcasting
booth he leaps ... FLIPPING NECKBREAKER!!

FH: Chase is six foot seven and on one wheel ... HOW THE HELL!


*** HUGE SPOT FACE POP!!! ***


CL: Both men are on the ground and the referee is back inside the ring
and counting the men on the outside.

FH: Oh _NOW_ he decides to count.  O'Riley is on Willingham's payroll.

CL: Chase is in trouble too.  He is holding that right knee that Acorn
has been damaging all match.


_FOUR_!!!


_FIVE_!!!


_SIX_!!!


[... Williams is up!  Acorn is right after him!  Bone crushing right
hand by Williams.  Acorn returns with a slap!]


_SEVEN_!!!


FH: Get in the ring morons!

[Acorn dives under the ropes at the count of eight and Williams right
behind him.  Acorn swings, but it's blocked and Williams with a big
right... Another ... Another ...  Acorn is now backed up in the corner
and Chase is going wild with a fury of right hands .... Acorn drops
limp nearly able to stand and Williams with a front face lock ...]




"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"




CL: IMPLANT DDT BY THE FORMER PVW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!

FH: This isn't looking good.

CL: Williams yanks Acorn up ...




"___THUUUUUUUUUUD___"




CL: High Impact Legsweep STO!!!  Chase calls that "Price of Fame" as
one of his signature moves. This could be it... Chase is propped up
waiting for Acorn to raise to his feet.   He may be looking for the
Moment of Clarity.

FH: Roll back to the outside Randy!

[Staggered, Acorn stumbles into a boot to the gut by Williams, who
shoves him down into a pumphandle position.]

CL: Here it comes, the Moment of Clarity!

FH: This can't happen!  Not in the opening round.  RANDY'S THE CHOSEN
ONE!

[Heaving Acorn up, Chase shouts ... and then Acorn falls back onto his
feet.  "WTF" pop!]

*DING!* *DING!* *DING!*

CL: LIVESTOCK!  Livestock Zappa has pulled Acorn down, saving him from
the Moment of Clarity!

[Williams looks Livestock in the eye, and they come up nose to nose.
The comparison is remarkable, side by side, they're nearly identical
in most regards.  Sweating, infuriated, Chase clearly is reading him
the riot act, and about 2 seconds from kicking 'Stock's can, when
suddenly a briefcase smacks him in the back of the head.]




"___WHHHAAAAAANG___!!!




FH: And Gutch!  That does it, oh yeah.  See Chip, you don't mess with
the Powers That Be!

Zeke: We're in control, punk!  We are!  Not you!

[Yeah, now Zeke's getting in the ring, too.]

Zeke: You hear me?  Your precious Dex Willingham, thinking he can cut
us short ... well, like we said before ... we outgrew him.  This is
our playground now.  And by hook or by crook, we're taking that damned
Championship for the Strickland Sports Network!

     You think everybody around here's just a pretender to your
     throne?  Y'know what ... I thought that Cole was a piece of crap,
     but now that I've met you, I understand what a piece of crap is.
     He's a hundred times the man you are.

 Get him up.  Maniac, your turn...

[Standing up in the corner, Acorn grimaces, understanding that he's
lost the match, and not happy about it.  Sliding into the ring,
gleefully, the Masked Maniac fairly dances in place.]

Zeke:  Livestock, Gutch, stand him up.  Maniac ... you know what to
do.

[In a coordinated effort, Livestock and Gutch pull Williams up, Zeke
drops his own briefcase in front of Chase, and the Masked Maniac hits
a MASSIVE DDT, half caving in said case ... then celebrating like a
toddler who's just used the potty for the first time.  Outside the
ring, the newly arrived “Big” Gene Gaines cheers his boss on.]

Zeke: Feel that?  It's called the Maniac Spike.  Learn to love it,
'cause as far as I'm concerned you rank even lower around here than
the Masked Maniac.

MM: YEAH!  You're under even me ... and I was a world champion too.
WHOO!

Zeke: Matter of fact ... I think you two should fight.  Yeah, let's
make that happen...

[Stopping suddenly, Maniac puts his hands up, pleading for Zeke to
take that last statement back.]

Zeke: And remember Chase ... you don't get paid unless WE get paid...
Oh, and as we pay the Maniac to say himself ... when he's not
panicking, "The Corporation owns you".

CL: What disrespect!!! Chase Williams the hand picked savior by Dex
Willingham was attacked by SSN just as he was about to put away the
"Chosen one"!

FH: It's his funeral.  He may have advanced, but he is in a bad spot
in the semi finals.  Meanwhile it's only a matter of time until SSN's
chosen one gets a shot at the gold.

[Acorn isn't happy he begins driving kicks into the rib cage of Chase
Williams.  Kick after kick ... Punt after punt ... Finally Livestock
pulls Acorn back as Williams looks to be finished by SSN. Exiting,
Zeke is followed by his group.  Acorn exits next to last, and smacks
Maniac in the mask, calming him enough for the panicky masked one to
make his own exit.]

CL: The semifinals are set!  William Craven, Larry Gionet, Rob Cole,
and Chase Williams will fight next Heatwave to find out what two will
be competing for the PVW World Heavyweight Championship!

FH: As long as it's not William Craven I am fine with it.

CL:  I'm being told something is going on backstage!

FH:  When isn't there something going on backstage?

CL:  We've got a camera crew... and we're going to them now...

[Cut to the back to one of the many long hallways of the arena.  The
shakey camera effect adds to the mystery of which PVW star is laying
half in and half out of the corridoors, above the body the lights of
the hallway have been smashed leaving an eerie dark shadowy scene to
be stumbled upon.]

CL: Who is that?

FH: Looks like Caleb Foley.

[Yeap, it seems the camera crew has caught up with Caleb Foley, who
last we saw was on the hunt for the man with no face, however, it
seems that Foley was the one who was caught.  Foley is still
semi-conscious within a small pool of blood which has formed near the
base of where his forehead now lays, along with other blood spatter in
the hallway.  He moans in agony holding his hands over the gash on his
face, occasionally pawing at the wall he rests near and leaving behind
small bloody prints.]

CL: We need to get some help back there...

FH:  No, we need to get that camera crew to find out who did that.

[The camera stops dead in their tracks as a hand emerges from the
intersecting hallway coridoor, it is wrapped in black tape and grabs a
hold of Foley's back.  From the shadows a voice is picked up from the
cameras.]

V/O:  You might not fear death.

[The hand clasps Foley's shirt and drags him off into the shadows.]

V/O:  But you will fear me.

[The camera turns around the corner to where Foley was dragged off.]

V/O:  The world will bleed...

[Something moves about in the shadows.]

V/O:  ...then die.

[Cut back to the announcers booth.]

FH: I guess Foley found who he was looking for.

CL: Yeah, but _WHO_ is it!?!

FH: At this point who the hell knows.

CL: And now it's time for the big one, Fred.  William Craven has
wanted to get his hands on "Showtime" Rick Marley for a long, long
time.  Marley has signed a contract for this one, and it is procluding
him from substituting.  There WILL be no disqualification, there WILL
be no Widowmakers in the arena, there WILL be no substitution by
Marley, there WILL be no invocation of the restraining order before
the match ends, and if Rick Marley violates any of those stipulations,
he WILL have to abandon the restraining order on Craven.

FH: Which shows me that Craven WILL spend the next five years in the
can!  Don't you get it? Marley doesn't even have to win!  All he has
to do is survive the match, and Craven gets sent up the river!  Texas'
laws for the restraining order are about the strictest there are!  And
you know what they do to guys like Craven in the Texas State Penn?

CL: I'd like to see them try.

FH: Really?  I didn't know you were into that sort of thing... ewwwww.

CL: To William Craven, this is his one chance to destroy Rick Marley.
To take revenge for everything... Marley's continual flagrant abuses
of the rules and of everyone around him.  The career-ending spinal
injury inflicted to the Tucson Kid. And...

FH: And the dummy has no chance.  Were you blind during the match
against Feyr, or do you have the world's shortest memory?  Craven
defeated Feyr, but he took one hell of a beating.  Then after the
match both Feyr and Manson dominated the Motor City Madman.  There is
no way that Craven is one-hundred percent.  There is no way he's even
fifty percent.  This is a clean-up job.  All Marley has to do is get
the match to end, and Widowmakers wins.  Permanently.

CL: We've broken it down as best we can, folks.  Everything is on the
line ... even the very careers of these two men.  William Craven is
willing to go to prison for the opportunity to destroy Rick Marley in
a no-disqualification match.  But he's already taken a tremendous
beating tonight, and Marley is daisy fresh.  If ever the odds were
against Craven, it is now... let's go up to the ring.

*DING*DING*DING*

[We get a pan shot of the capacity crowd, who cheers.  They certainly
believe that a half-strength Motor City Madman can take down a full-
strength Rick Marley in this kind of match... and from the massive
wave of boos that erupt when "Sympathy For The Devil" by the Rolling
Stones kicks up over the PA, the can't wait to see it.]

FH: All hail, Chip.  The man who will rid us of William Craven.  Win,
lose, or draw. I love it.

["Showtime" emerges from the back, smirking proudly.  Rick Marley, who
as always wears full-length midnight-blue trunks with bluish-white
spotlight-shaped streaks running up the legs (and "Showtime" stenciled
across the back) along with black boots, takes his sweet time heading
down the aisle.  He savors the moment, interacting with the fans at a
few junctures.  The dark-haired grappler is overheard telling a fan
who waves a Motor City Madman T-Shirt that he attended William
Craven's last wrestling match, and all he got was a really lousy T-
Shirt.]

CL: Marley is the picture of confidence, which is counter to every
confrontation he's ever had with the monstrous William Craven.  The
Motor City Madman has about a hundred pounds on "Showtime", and a no-
disqualification environment with no interference likely is to
Craven's huge advantage.  But just knowing that Craven will be
sacrificing his very freedom to take the match, and that Xavier Feyr
has  inflicted great damage to Craven already... Marley has every
reason to be confident.

FH: He knows that not only do brains beat brawn... but that his brains
have already won this.  To him, this match is the proverbial kneeldown
at the end of a football game.

[When Marley gets to about 15 feet from the ring, he sprints the
remaining distance and slides under the bottom rope.  He pops up, and
strides across the squared circle to climb to the second rope in front
of the announcer's table.  He looks down to Chip and Fred, smiles
broadly, and calls down to them.]

CL: Marley reminding us to tell you all that this is Craven's final
match.  We will see.  Remember, if Marley gets in too much hot water
and Widowmakers has to bail him out... he'll lose the power of the
restraining order on Craven.  And that includes for tonight's match.
If he were to try and invoke the restraining order after that, PVW
would strip him of his Called Shot, and we all know that's going to
be an integral part of whatever master plan he has.

FH: With Marley's experience and skill, and Craven coming in at half-
speed at best... I suspect he'll cope.

CL: We shall see.  Let's go up to the ring for our introductions.

*DING*DING*

[The fans start cheering, even as Marley's music continues to play.
They are excited about these two men finally, FINALLY meeting in the
ring...]

HD: THE FOLLOWING CONTEST, SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL WITH NO TIME LIMIT,
IS A NO DISQUALIFICATION MATCH!  WIDOWMAKERS INCORPORATED ARE BANNED
FROM THE ARENA!  INTRODUCING FIRST,

...FROM ALLENTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA; CURRENTLY RESIDING IN MIAMI,
FLORIDA... WEIGHING IN AT TWO HUNDRED FIFTEEN POUNDS...



                "S H O W T I M E"      R I C K       M A R L E Y  !  !



[Marley raises his hands, and stands astride the second rope, awaiting
Craven.]


HD: AND HIS OPPONENT...

["Sympathy For The Devil" finally dies out, and is replaced by...

...

...silence.

The crowd builds an anticipatory buzz, but no music greets them from
the PA.  This soon turns to confusion.  Marley raises a quizzical
eyebrow.  He seems unsure whether there are technical difficulties, or
something is amiss.]

CL: Alright, awaiting the entrance of William Craven.  Remember, WMI
is banned from the arena.  If they jump him backstage, that counts as
a violation of the stipulations.

FH: Maybe Marley hired someone else to take him out.  That would be
legal.

CL: I wouldn't doubt it, but look at his reaction.  He's as unsure
about this as the...

[Suddenly, just as everyone has perhaps given up hope that there's
going to be a match at all, "Space Lord" by Monster Magnet hits the
PA.  Pyrotechnics blast, it's the whole nine yards that everyone's
come to expect when William Craven comes to the ring.  Still, there is
no Craven.]

FH: Heh.  No craven.  Maybe he's just scared of another police
beatdown.

[A massive face pop goes up, however, as movement is seen.   Entering
from the back, hobbling, the right leg of his vinyl slacks cut away
and the exposed knee wrapped heavily, the scabbing, green-skinned bulk
of William Craven enters the arena sans ring gear, but wearing his
shark-toothed grin.  That's right the motor city madman is _happy_.]

WC: Music.  Cut it.  Really...

[Said music is cut.]

WC: Richard.  Dear, sweet Richard.  Hello!

[Looking around in confusion, Marley seems to curse aloud, and waves
towards Bill, indicating that he should get in the ring.]

WC: Oh, no ... no no.  Had you been paying attention, you'd have
noticed a piece of tape here on the entrance ramp.  I had one of the
ring crew measure during a commercial break ... and by standing just
on the other side of that marker, I am outside the radius of your
restraining order...

I'm sorry.  Does that make you unhappy?

[Looking increasingly confused, Rick shouts down the aisle again, but
makes no move to get a microphone.  It's clear by his outer space
demeanor that Bill probably still wouldn't hear him if he had one.]

WC: I have to say ... that "Feyr" guy was a lot tougher than I had
assumed.  My brain is positively swimming.  Why ... I guess you could
say that at this point, if you cracked my head open you'd need a ladle
to scoop out the goo.  Oh my, yes...

     Hm, and now it seems clear that our wonderful PVW fans are
     starting to catch on.  Again, I apologize...

[Indeed, the fans, who started by cheering Bill on lustily, now give a
mixed pop.]

WC: Richard ... you think I'm a rabid dog.  You believe that I'll fall
for your little ruse.  You think that, perhaps, I didn't read the
contract closely enough, or had no one close enough to me to give
advice in my concussed state.  You were wrong...

     But then, you must be used to being wrong by now.  You thought
     you were in the right by outing me, shouting to the heavens "IT'S
     WILLIAM CRAVEN!", like the protagonist in that old movie "Soylent
     Green".  "IT'S PEOPLE!  SOYLENT GREEN IS PEEEOOOPLE!!!"

[Aaand now his shrieking gets Bill more cheers.  Nice.]

WC: You were wrong then, too.  You thought you were in the right the
whole time. Thoroughly unaware of your own sins.  My own sin, I
suppose, was simply in trying to rein you in.  For this I do not
apologize.  You see, Richard ... when those in charge cannot or will
not act to uphold what is right ... it is we, the citizenry, who must
defend ourselves.  Yes, I gassed you and yours ... but that was AFTER
you very nearly KILLED someone very dear to me...

[Big pops for the Tucson Kid.]

FH: I knew it!  Craven is the one who's putting up that paper
everywhere.

CL: It does sound that way...

WC: So now ... you think that, when your flunkies have tried and
failed, when your restraining order on the "third strike" carries a
mandatory jailtime clause, and when you've whipped me up into such a
fury ... I'll just come down there, in a weakened state, you'll have
your way with me and let me be dragged off by the police officers here
in the arena.

[Quick cuts to all corners of the arena; at ringside, in the crowd,
and even in the entrance portal.  There are police officers in
virtually every corner of the place.]

WC: But ... I am not what you think I am, Richard.  I am not, and I
will end this, both on MY terms ... and on yours.

On my terms because, believe me, I'm not done with you.  Go ahead and
cling to your little piece of paper that the judge should never have
given you.  If you value your bank account, you'll release it soon.
Or haven't you heard the network people talking?

[Another big grin from Bill as Rick is seeming to panic in the ring.]

WC: And on your terms because ... well.  You see, Rick, when you
reformed WMI, you essentially got yourself a mob of guys to back you
up.  A group of "desperadoes", if you will.  There was a time,
however, that when the law wouldn't act, the people would take the law
into their own hands.  This was originated by one Charles Lynch.
Hence the term "Lynch Mob"...

     And also ... you're not the only one who can use contracts to
     your advantage ... and some of those clauses you had written up
     apply only to you ... and not me.

     It gets worse, Richard...  Ha ... hahaha ...
     HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAHHH!!!

[Hobbling to the back, Bill disappears as everyone in the arena begins
to buzz with anticipation.  The crowd is really loud now, abuzz with
speculation.  They seem a bit put off at the prospect of not  seeing
Craven, but excited at what may happen instead.

     Naturally, Rick Marley is livid.  Marley stands on the second
     rope, screaming for Craven to get out here.]

CL: CRAVEN OUTSMARTED MARLEY!  I ... what is this?

[Cut to the announce table.  One of the ring crew, probably the one
who put out the tape earlier, has handed a note to Chip Lester.]

CL: Fred, according to what I have here ... William Craven has invoked
a substitution clause in the contract, in much the same way that Rick
Marley did recently in the match that introduced Xavier Feyr.

FH: HE CAN'T DO THAT!  THAT'S AGAINST THE STIPULATIONS!

CL: The stiplation specifically said it was MARLEY who couldn't use an
injury substitution clause!  There is nothing in there about Craven
using it!

FH: It doesn't even matter.  Marley will just roll whatever loser they
pull out here.  What, is Mercenary going to come get his revenge?  He
already was in a war tonight too!  And don't make me laugh about Tommy
Ryder.  There is no one in PVW that would work with Craven, that
Marley would even...

[Fred's theorizing and Marley's rampage is cut off by the sound of
a...


...harmonica?

The slow, eerie opening to "Man With A Harmonica" from "Once Upon A
Time In The West" plays over the PA.  And Craven's face on the video
screen has been replaced by a copy of the EXCERPT FROM THE CODE OF THE
OLD WEST that we have seen two times prior.]

CL: There's that Code Of The Old West again...

FH: Wait, you mean... if that WASN'T Craven, then who would... *eep*

[Fred and Rick both put two and two together at the same time.  Fred's
voice drops to a shocked squeak, and Marley goes white.  His eyes
bulge in shock and horror... and then the camera pans from him to the
man he's staring at.

The man is standing at the top of the aisle, wearing a black longcoat,
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 coat jacket.  In one hand he leans on a mahogany hand-carved
cane, and in the other he holds a hangman's noose... it is this hand
that is pointing at Marley.

His name?]

CL: IT'S DOC HOLLIDAY!

FH: NO!  NOOO!

[Oh, yes.  And the fans EXPLODE, cheering this turn of events wildly!
Marley looks like he doesn't know whether to run or cry.  Holliday's
expression is grim, and his eyes have a murderous glint to them.  He
starts heading down the aisle, limping slightly, using his cane to
move along.]

CL: DOC HOLLIDAY IS THE MAN WHO TRAINED THE TUCSON KID!  The Kid was
his prize pupil, the one who Holliday said was going to carry on his
legacy in wrestling!

FH: TRAIN THE NEXT ONE BETTER!  Don't take it out on Rick!  And...
hey!  You can't legally be a surrogate in a promotion you're not IN!
Holliday doesn't wrestle for PVW... does he?

[The ring announcer pulls up a card...]


HD: INTRODUCING HIS OPPONENT, SUBSTITUTING FOR WILLIAM CRAVEN...

...FROM TOMBSTONE, ARIZONA... WEIGHING IN AT TWO-HUNDRED AND THIRTY-
TWO POUNDS...


         ...D O C    H O L L I D A Y  !  !


[The crowd roars, and the fans are as hot as hot gets.  The
announcement seems to snap Marley out of the frozen deer-in-headlights
expression; now he knows this is really happening, and understands
what is going to happen if he doesn't do something about it.  Holliday
reaches ringside, and Marley rushes him... leaping over the top
rope with a pescado to catch him off-guard.



                        * C R A C K ! *



With an agility that belies the limp he just displayed on the way to
the ring, Holliday makes a quick sidestep, and brings his mahogany
cane across to catch a plummeting Marley across the back of the
shoulders as he flies by.  Marley rolls into the floor, his instincts
and sense of self-preservation keeping him from smearing himself all
over San Antonio... though the force of the blow as well as his
momentum send him skidding down the aisle.]


*DING*DING*DING*

CL: DID YOU SEE THAT?!

FH: I'm trying to unsee that!

CL: Marley panicked!  He totally panicked when he saw Holliday, and he
may have taken himself out before the match even began!  We're
underway, and do you believe this turn of events?!

FH: NO, DAMMIT!  Pinch me!  This is a nightmare!  It HAS to be a
nightmare!

CL: Doc Holliday is a multi-time World Champion, one-half of one of
the most infamous tag teams in history, and was the man behind
Widowmakers Incorporated's most successful years!  He and Marley were
former tag team champions themselves, in St. Louis!  But Holliday is
here, and he is trying to take out Marley himself!

FH: But... but... Holliday's ended careers himself!  He can't possibly
blame Marley for doing the same things he showed him how to do!  This
is hypocrasy!

CL: Holliday has taken his longcoat off, and is wrapping it around
Marley's neck!  Look at the look on Holliday's face!  That's cold rage
right there... there is a killer's look in his eyes, and he is
dragging Marley towards the ring!

[Holliday picks up Marley and whips him into the ring.  Doc is now
clad in his 1870's-style white silk ruffled shirt, vest, and pants.
Marley tries to recover his feet, but is clearly still dazed from the
big fall he took.  Holliday calmly walks up the steps, and enters the
ring, completely unhurried.]

FH: This isn't right!  Someone get me on the phone with SSN!  They
can't bring in a guy who doesn't have a contract with...

CL: I'm just getting confirmation from the back that Doc Holliday HAS,
in fact, signed with PVW.  Apparently, even Christopher Michaelson
wasn't informed.

FH: ...YOU MEAN THIS CONSPIRACY GOES ALL THE WAY TO THE TOP?!

CL: Marley up to his feet, and a back kick hits Holliday in the
midsection. Holliday taking maybe too much time to follow up.  Marley
steps back... CASTING CALL...

FH: No!  Holliday saw it coming!

CL: Holliday completely read Marley's movements... he knows him too
well!  He stepped back and caught Marley's foot as he threw the
Casting Call superkick... AND KICKS HIM RIGHT BETWEEN THE LEGS!  AND
AGAIN!  AND AGAIN!  Three vile low blows and Marley's eyes are about
to pop out of his head!

FH: DISQUALIFY HIM!

CL: In a no DQ match?

FH: DAMN YOU WILLIAM CRAVEN!

CL: Craven must be loving this, as Doc Holliday is taking it out on
Rick Marley for what he did to his apprentice!  Holliday  drags Marley
up to his feet... MARLEY WITH A LOW BLOW!

FH: What?  No effect?!

CL: Holliday is wearing pants, not wrestling attire!  If he knew he
was going into a no DQ match...

FH: ...he'd wear a cup!  IT REALLY _IS_ A CONSPIRACY!

CL: Holliday and Marley trading punches... Doc ducks in, shoots the
arm in... ARIZONA SANDSTORM!

[Holliday blocked a punch from Marley by ducking and shooting for an
inverted half nelson... where the forearm goes in front of the neck
instead of behind it.  He then lifted Marley, and fell backwards in a
Side Effect-like slam, driving the forearm into the neck area as he
hit.  An "Arizona Sandstorm".  The fans cheer the trademark move, and
Marley clutches his neck.]

CL: It is all Holliday right now...

FH: Of COURSE it is!  This is a set-up, Marley isn't at all prepared
for this, and Holliday knows Marley like the back of his hand in the
first place!  Totally unfair!

CL: Much like, you know, facing William Craven after he'd already
fought Xavier Feyr?

FH: But that was okay!  Craven agreed to it!

CL: Marley certainly didn't agree to this, and Holliday drags him up
again.  Right ahnd, and a left, and a right...  Holliday now just
beating on Marley, with no resistance!  Marley took himself out of
this when he panicked at the outset.  When he saw his former
stablemate and tag partner...

FH: HIS FRIEND!  They were friends, dammit!  How could Holliday do
this?!

CL: The same way Marley betrayed his "friend" The Mercenary?

FH: That's different!

CL: Marley is down, and Holliday stepping on his throat.  Nothing
fancy here, he is just abusing Rick Marley... who had better recover
in a hurry.  As you mentioned, Doc Holliday is no less vicious than
Marley, or anyone else for that matter.  He has a litany of victims in
his own right... but tonight, he's here to avenge the Tucson Kid!

FH: And the worst part of it?  William Craven isn't going to prison
now!  This is horrible on every imaginable level!

CL: Holliday dragging Marley up... Marley with a quick jawbreaker!
"Showtime" showing signs of life, using the top of his head to stagger
Holliday!  Marley kicks Holliday in the midsection, tucks his head
in...

FH: HE'S GOING FOR THE _LIMELIGHT_!



                



CL: HE'S GOING FOR A TRIP TO THE DENTIST!

[Marley tucks Holliday in, attempting to hit his swinging Ace Crusher
finisher... but Holliday counters by spinning Marley all the way
around when he twisted into the move, and upon Marley's rotation to
face him again, blasts him with a fast, violent left jab that dropped
the head of WMI like a rock!  The impact echoes across the arena like
a gunshot; a gunshot which the fans cheer vehemently.  Holliday just
stares down at his fallen former friend, without a hint of emotion on
his face.]

CL: That left jab of Holliday is lethal, just absolutely lethal, and
even when you know about it there's no stopping it!

FH: It's impossible to beat Doc Holliday when he's prepared for the
match and you aren't!  Noone in the sport can do that!  This is a
travesty of epic proportions!

CL: Marley is out of it, and Holliday pulls him up... hooks him for a
suplex.  Fisherman suplex coming up...

[Doc hooks a leg, as if going for a fisherman suplex.  He lifts him
overhead... and sits out.  Marley's neck compresses on Holliday's
shoulder, and he falls to the side in a barely-moving heap.  The fans
pop wildly for the completely new maneuver.]

FH: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!

CL: I have no idea!  A modified Muscle Buster... that was devastating!
Elevated fisherman neckbreaker?  Whatever it was, this match is over
if Holliday goes for a pin!

FH: Oh, he's going for something all right...

[Doc stands up... and points at the noose.  The fans cheer.  Well,
some of them.  Others aren't so sure they REALLY want to see him use
that thing.  All of them are noisy about it, and when Doc picks the
noose up, the volume level is about as high as it can get.]

CL: ...he can't be serious.  This... this could be going too far!

FH: Doc Holliday doesn't bluff, Chip.

[Holliday wraps the noose around Marley's neck, and yanks it tight.
He steps on the back of Rick's neck, and pulls on the rope for a bit.
The referee starts admonishing him for the potential use of lethal
tactics, even though there is no disqualification, but Holliday makes
no sign of acknowledgement.  After a moment, he starts to drag Marley
towards the ropes...]

FH: NO!  STOP HIM!  SOMEONE STOP HIM!

CL: I'll pass, Fred, but feel free to try.

FH: HE'LL KILL HIM!

CL: You think he'll go through with it?

FH: Can, has, and will!

[Holliday pulls Marley to his feet... sort of.  He says something to
Marley that we can't hear over the crowd, and throws him over the top
rope... holding the other end of the noose's rope!]

CL: HE'S HANGING HIM!

[But not for long...]

FH: WIDOWMAKERS!  THE WIDOWMAKERS ARE HERE!

[Nick Wright is the first to hit the ring, and eats left jab as
Holliday drops the rope to tend to the new threat.  Xavier Feyr is
close behind, but as he enters the ring, Holliday whips Wright through
the ropes into him, and both men tumble to the outside.]

CL: Nick Wright of the Made Men in first, but Holliday just threw him
right at Xavier Feyr.

FH: Doesn't matter!  Holliday might be a former World Champion, but
nobody's bad enough to fight all of the Widowmakers at once!

[Mark Masterson is the next to hit the ring, but by the time he enters
the ring, Holliday is set.  His charge is countered with a Spinning
Rydeen Bomb... Masterson rolls with the move, ending up outside the
ring.  Last of all comes Marcus Manson, but as he climbs to the apron,
Holliday Yakuza Kicks him off the apron to the floor.]

CL: That's why Holliday is trying to take them separately... but they
won't let that happen for long.

[All four conscious Widowmakers stop, look at one another, nod, and
slide in simultaneously from all directions.  But this time, they're
not interrupted by Holliday.]

FH: MERCENARY!

[Merc, who has entered from the crowd, ambushes Feyr to the loud
approval of the capacity crowd.  Xavier's unusually sharp senses are
barely enough, even in this incredibly loud and chaotic atmosphere, to
keep him from taking a full-on Haliburton shot to the skull.  Even so,
Merc catches him in the shoulder and knocks him to the mat.  Manson
turns to Heart Punch him, but Merc is fully prepared, and blocks with
his ubiquitous steel briefcase... Manson actually DENTS it, but
screams in rage and pain as his hand suffers for it.  The Made Men
descend upon Holliday, and being an actual tag team, are able to take
the veteran down with an adept High/Low legsweep/thrust kick
combination.]

CL: The Mercenary has struck!  But it's still two-to-one in favor of
the Widowmakers! And Xavier Feyr wants BLOOD!

[Feyr and Manson need but a moment to recover, and the shrewd teamwork
of the Made Men allow that as Wright baits Merc into attacking,
leaving an opening for Masterson to interrupt with a grapple.  Wright
kicks Merc, and Holliday's attempt to intervene is cut off by Manson
and Feyr.  The huge "Misery Machine" grabs Holliday as "Bloodlust"
jump-kicks him in the side.]

FH: That's right, finish them off.  That'll end all this conspiracy
non... HEY!

[As Masterson and Manson are holding Merc and Holliday respectively,
neither are in position to see who is now perched on the top rope
behind them!]

CL: TOMMY RYDER!  RYDER IS HERE!

[Feyr and Wright both see him, and both make a desperate lunge to stop
him... but Ryder leaps, clearing both Feyr and Wright and diving into
Masterson and Manson!  The fans pop loudly, as a five-man pileup
ensues.  Ryder pounds away on Masterson before diving at Nick Wright.
Feyr sees that Mercenary is now unattended and dives at him; the two
men trade blows as Manson attempts to twist Holliday's head off ...
but has his face raked in response.]

FH: That little creep only delayed the inevitable.  It's still a one
man advantage, you just watch.

[Hoyle's words prove prophetic.  Mark Masterson, briefly forgotten,
recovers and hammers Ryder in the back of the head with a knee.  This
frees Wright to rush behind Holliday with a dropkick to the head,
which frees Manson to club the Mercenary in the face, which frees Feyr
to thrust-chop Ryder in the neck.  With all four active Widowmakers
pressing the advantage, it doesn't look good... until one more massive
frame hits the ring!]

CL: SINISTER!

FH: THIS IS NOT A ROYAL RUMBLE, DAMMIT!

[Well, if it was, Xavier Feyr would be eliminated... he's the first to
respond to Sinister, and the three-hundred pounder counters his attack
by bailing him over the top rope!  Sinister proceeds to double
clothesline the Made Men, and the fans are once again cheering loudly!
Then Sinister rushes Manson ... and is dropped by a huge boot to the
face.]

FH: Sinister is a big bad man, but Manson is too!

[Sinister gets up, and the two big men go toe-to-toe.  Feyr re-enters
the ring, trying to clip Sinister from behind, but Merc knees him in
the side of the head to cut him off.  They roll on the mat hammering
away, as Holliday squares off with Masterson and Ryder faces off with
Wright.  The crowd continues to cheer the non-stop wild action.]

CL: Now it's a fair fight!  Four on four!  The Widowmakers like to
abuse the numbers, but they can't do that here...



              



FH: ...you were saying?

[Suddenly, as Holliday backs up to the ropes to use them against
Masterson, he is struck by his own cane from the outside.  There,
battered and weary but still alive, "Showtime" Rick Marley has
regained consciousness.  Weakly, he rolls into the ring, cane still in
hand.]

FH: HE'S ALIIIIVE!

CL: Barely.

FH: It doesn't matter!  WMI has their leader, and nothing can stop
them now...

[Cue "Space Lord" by Monster Magnet.]

FH: ...I'm just going to shut up now.

CL: CRAVEN!

[William Craven hits the ring, and he's got his sword.  This time,
he's grabbed before he can get to standing, and Manson pulls the sword
away.  But that requires turning his back on Sinister, who nails him
with a huge double palmstrike to the kidney.  While he doesn't get to
complete his Five Palms Of Malice combination, the first blow is
sufficient to get Manson to drop the sword, which is then kicked out
of the ring by Holliday.  Craven proceeds to dive for Marley and
attempts to tear him lengthwise in half like a piece of paper.]

FH: Craven is going to jail after all!

CL: No, he's not!  Widowmakers broke the match stipulations!  The
restraining order can't be invoked without Marley losing his Called
Shot!

FH: NO!  NOOO!  THEY PLANNED THIS ALL ALONG!  DAMN IT!

[Marley slides back outside, calling a retreat.  The Made Men clear
the way as Masterson hurls Wright across the ring, flooring several of
the people in it... Wright keeps rolling until he exits on the other
side, pulling Feyr out with him.  Manson slides out, and WMI starts
backing down the aisle as the faces hold the ring.  Sinister and Ryder
play to the crowd to work them up even more, Merc holds the ropes open
to invite WMI back in, Craven grins like a maniac, and Holliday is
reaching for something at ringside.

The crowd is hyped, and Marley points to the assemblage.]

RM: THIS IS WAR!  THIS!  IS!  WAR!

[With that, WMI starts to make an exit.  But Holliday has the house
mic by now, and only fifteen seconds of airtime.  That's enough.  He
points out to the retreating Widowmakers.]

DH: Five of you.

[He then makes a sweeping gesture at his team.]

DH: Five of us.

[He then points back at WMI.]

DH: You declare war?

[And finally, back at his team.]

DH: WE DECLARE __WARGAMES__!

[With that, the fans go wild, and the show ends, as the final shot
shows Rick Marley's eyes grow wide as saucers...]




[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

           Credits:
Brian: Acorn v. Williams
Rob: WCv. Livestock and The Gutch/CL, Ryder v. Cole
Jer: Manson v. Gomez, Marley v. Holiday
Jamie: Made Men v. Killing Machines
Dan: Feyr v. Craven
Mark: Gionet v. Cruise


Feel like your missing out and interested in helping? Just email
pvwinc@gmail.com  =)

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]