[Camera opens on AsH, already in his ring attire of black pants and a
red t-shirt, hair pointing in all different directions and glistening
in the light. He's banging on a vending machine and muttering under
his breath.]

AsH: What we have here... is a failure to COMMUNICATE!

#BANG!#

[He wraps on the side again and still nothing drops. He stops and
slaps his face a few times]

AsH: A wise guy, eh?! NYUK NYUK!

[AsH slams his shoulder into the machine again, and again, no avail.
He grunts and put his hands on his hips]

AsH: This is a damn pro-wrestling company. How is there not a single
steel chair within arm's reach? Seriously, there are more steel chairs
in this arena than people with asses....though I suppose I don't want
to know about the people WITHOUT asses. Human Centipedes, maybe?

[AsH shivers at the thought and as he does, the Lucha-Favorite, Senor
Cloak Dos walks into frame]

*FACE POP!*

[AsH raises an eyebrow and sniffs the air]

AsH: It smells like... dangerous maneuvers. With a hint of purity.
...and a dash of mystery.

What's up, Dos?

[AsH turns and gives his amigo the obligatory handshake/bro hug.]

SCD: Hola, Senor AsH! I am aching from head to toe after the beating
that Senor Black gave me and from my long bus ride here to California
but I am doing OK.

[AsH puts his hand on his shoulder and gets a very serious look on his
face]

AsH: I'm glad you're here. Help me break this damn machine.

SCD: Por Que?

AsH: Stole my dollar.

SCD: Why not find the building manager? He can probably take care of
this.

AsH: No, this vending machine is evil. Rudo, you call it. I'm pretty
sure it was installed by um, Christopher Black. In an effort to
infuriate people with promises of tasty treats and rob them of their
hard earned money. Truly, the man is evil beyond measure.

[Cloak rubs his masked chin.]

SCD: An evil plan by Senor Black?

[The young luchadore nods his head.]

SCD: I could see him trying to do something like this. Probably to
frustrate people before attacking them from behind..

[Suddenly the masked man looks around as if in high alert. He turns
towards the Cruiserweight Icon.]

SCD: Amigo.. Senor Black is maybe targeting YOU!

AsH: Uh, yeah. That is entirely possible and in no way simply a
fabrication I am using to get help in achieving my snack-oriented
goals.

SCD: That no good villain! We must put a stop to his evil plans before
he can carry them through! I can not let him attack you, mi amigo, as
he did to me!

AsH: And the first step, my masked friend, is to tip over this
machine. The only way to truly take it to Mr. Black and his overly
tall freak of an assistant... is to hit him in his wallet. And by
wallet, I mean vending machine. And by vending machine, I mean help me
tip this mother over.

[AsH motions towards the side of the vending machine.]

AsH: Vamanos!

SCD: Si!

[Both men get to the side of the machine and begin trying to tip it
over. They strain and grunt as they do so but the machine, apparently
quite heavy, is hard to budge.]

AsH: Son of a... jeez this is heavy. So... *HRRRG* how's things been?
You *GRRRR* ready for that TV strap?

SCD: *GNNNGH* First I must fight Senor Cole who thinks.. *RRRRRRNGH*
That I yelled at him after his match with Senor Craven.. *GRRRRRH*
.. *NNNNNNNGH*... But I was in the hospital... *KNNNNGH*.. What about
you? Are you.. *GRNNNNN*.. Ready for Tysonito?

AsH: *HUUUURK* I dunno, *GRAAA* Cain's a handful in himself. Not
really looking past him or this DAMN VENDING MACHINE!!!

[With one last push, both men finally strain and let go of the
machine. SCD actually takes a moment to look behind the machine and
notice that it is actually bolted to the wall. And the floor.
Apparently people are really into tipping over vending machines in
Stockton]

SCD: Amigo, Senor Black has bolted this to the wall... He is
determined for it not to be tipped over in his evil plans. Is there
something else we can do?

AsH: Si, uh, I mean yeah. I believe a dropkick may do the trick.

[AsH leaps up and hits a beautiful dropkick into the plexiglass... and
hits the floor with a thud as the plastic simply wobbles back and
forth. SCD reaches down and helps AsH back to his feet]

SCD: Senor Black is an evil genius!

AsH: Indeed he is. Tell me, what are you thinking going ahead with
him? You know you're gonna need someone to watch your back, man. And
if it comes to that, please don't hesitate to ask. It's the last I
could do. I mean, you did teach my wife that amazing recipe.

SCD: The weinerschnitzel?

AsH: Yeah. I must say I was surprised that you taught her a German
recipe since... well... you know...

[SCD looks at him innocently]

AsH: You're...

SCD: A masked luchador.

AsH: Exactly...

SCD: If you need any help, Senor AsH, you let me know and I will be
like the Jackson Five song you played in the car. I will be there.

AsH: I swear I told you to keep that IN the car.

[AsH looks at the vending machine long and hard. Then a light bulb
appears above his head!]

AsH: I know how to thwart Black's evil plan!

SCD: Oh?

AsH: DOUBLE DROPKICK!

SCD: Ah!

[Both men turn towards the vending machine and focus their energy
before leaping up at the same time and...]


*KASMASHAKRASHACRACK*


[THE DOUBLE DROPKICK SMASHES THE PLASTIC! Both men scramble to their
feet and AsH pumps two fists into the air.]

AsH: VICTORY!

SCD: Viva Tecnicos!

AsH: YEAH! LONG LIVE MECHANICS!

[AsH reaches in and grabs a single solitary pack of Fruit Stripe gum
and holds it up in the air as if it was the World Heavyweight
Championship belt.]

AsH: Today, both boredom AND evil have been thwarted. Come on, Cloak.
You and I... we will celebrate like KINGS!

...KINGS OF GUM!...

...FOR ABOUT 30 SECONDS UNTIL THE FLAVOR GOES AWAY!...

SCD: Then why buy it?

AsH: It's preparation for Cain. A really big, flashy burst of flavor
for the length of about three blinks... and then you'll forget what
all the fuss was about in the first place.

SCD: Si?

AsH: Yes.

[Both men walk off as the camera fades out... but seriously, Fruit
Stripe?

Cut to the sounds of a soft ticking clock ... It grows louder and
louder and louder ...





               ____         ___         ___        __   __
              |  _ \   / _ \   / _ \  |  \ /  | | | | | | |
              | |_) ) | | | | | | | | |   v   | | | | | | |
              |  _ (  | | | | | | | | | |\_/| | |_| |_| |_|
              | |_) ) | |_| | | |_| | | |   | |  _   _   _
              |____/   \___/   \___/  |_|   |_| (_) (_) (_)







Fade into the PVW logo ...]






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




        ----------------------------------
          Live in @ Alex G Spanos Center
                Stockton, California


                     HEATWAVE
        ----------------------------------




[The logo on your television set explodes!  And we are inside the
Alex G Spanos Center in Stockton, California.  PVW Heatwave has
returned to the west Coast in California and the rabid, Cali-fans are
letting the folks at home know it!


PVW !!!


PVW !!!


PVW !!!


PVW !!!


PVW !!!


Camera leaves the fans and focuses in on the squared circle.  With out
SSN's money the same ring as before sits in-front of you.  However
there is a decoration change.  The SSN has been removed from
everywhere.  Standing alone ... proudly ... are three letters that
have made it through it all.  They've seen the highest of the highs.
And it's made it through the lowest of the lows.  In black-red-and a
little orange -

P-V-W covers the center of the mat.  And before we can cut to the
announcers a loud drum roll starts throughout the arena and
immediately kicks into "Hail to the Chief" which is met with a
negative reaction from the crowd.  Soon confetti and balloons begins
to fall from the ceiling as Johnny Detson struts out from the back
holding his Called Shot briefcase in his hand.  As the fans continue
to boo, Detson walks down to the ring paying them no mind as he waves
to the crowd, a huge politician smile on his face.  He slides into the
ring and grabs a mic.]

Detson:  People of the PVW ...  WE HAVE VICTORY!!!

[Detson holds his briefcase up high as the crowd jeers him louder.]

Detson:  And in that victory, a victory which I guaranteed, we, as a
company and its paying viewing public, finally have something to hold
their heads up high to once again!

[Detson nods.]

Detson:  That's right I am now not only your President and CEO, not
only am I your face of the franchise, I am now your Mr. Called Shot,
and soon to be World Champion!

[The crowd boos not liking that idea very much.]

Detson:  And with my greatness firmly entrenched, we have come here
tonight in honor of ME!!

[Detson takes a bow.]

Detson:  So you, the little people, can truly appreciate and give
thanks to my greatness I welcome you to the first, but not last,
Johnny Detson Appreciation Night!  Posters have been hung throughout
the arena tonight displaying my various feats of greatness, cardboard
cutouts and photo booths have been built so that the little ones can
get their picture taken next to something this great, various
wrestlers will come out here tonight and give thanks to me.  Because
nothing in this company would have happened without me!

[Detson nods his head in agreement.]

Detson:  Now truly people, I am great and deserving of this night.  I,
your President and CEO, saved this Company in its desperate time of
need.  I made this Company a financially strong and successful
Company!  And I, as your face of the franchise, got rid of the old,
diseased ridden parts that weighed this Company down, personally made
it stronger and more enjoyable.  Finally as your Called Shot winner
can now embark on the quest to save this Company's World Heavyweight
Championship from its dark unillustrious past where many undesirables
have held and now continue to hold the most cherished piece of
hardware this Company has to offer besides Johnny Detson, President
and CEO of this great Company.

[Detson again nods in agreement ignoring the fans' protests.]

Detson:  Now in my last endeavor many of you out there supported me
against my fight against Gibson Hayes.

[Mixed pop from the crowd.]

Detson:  And now, that I don't have to worry about appeasing you ...

[BOO!  Detson holds his hands up in protest.]

Detson:  People, people I mean that with the utmost respect towards
the bottom line and profit of this Company.  It's okay to know your
place, and just know that your continued financial contribution
towards this Company and my bottom line, and my continued success will
always have a place in my heart.  Now as I was saying, this time
Gibson Hayes I think that you'll find the situation a little different
...  This time ...


[In mid-sentence, the spotlight on Detson shuts off.  For a second,
there's darkness...

Then another spotlight shines on... just to the left of the
entranceway.  Where four people- two men, two women, all dressed in
differently colored polo shirts stand around a microphone.  It's the
Yuppie Greek Chorus, and they begin singing a jingle...]

Yuppie Greek Chorus:
# Dan for President #
# Dan for President #
# I Like Dan #
# You Like Dan #
# Everybody likes Dan for President #
# Everybody likes Dan!!!#

[The spotlight on them shuts off- and one at the top of the
entranceway turns on.  Standing in the entranceway, wearing the
SUPREME Title around his waist, wraparound sunglasses, his jacket with
"YOUR HERO" written on the back... and a red, white and blue top hat
on his head, is Danny "YOUR HERO" Daniels.  He's standing in front of
a wooden podium.  And he has a microphone.]

D"YH"D:  GREETING AND SALUTATION, MY FELLOW WRESTLING FANS!

I have come to make an announcement.  Having vanquished the ninja
scourge from PVW, I have realized that the time has come... for
change!  For hope!  For a wrestling federation that embraces it's
heroes!

And that is why I have decided to announce... after long deliberation
and reflection.  That, for the good of the federation...

I AM RUNNING FOR THE OFFICE OF PVW PRESIDENT!

(The camera cuts back on Detson staring at the entrance with a
dumbfounded look on his face.  He then cocks his head to the side
staring at Daniels in puzzled astonishment.  He quickly shakes his
head and regains his composure and plasters that politician smile back
on his face.)

Detson:  Ladies and gentlemen what a fitting tribute.  Never had I
imagined when I directed all under my employ to give thanks to me for
Johnny Detson Appreciation Night that someone would go to this level.
Imitation is truly the finest form of flattery.

[Detson flashes a cocky smirk.]

Detson:  Now Mr. Daniels it is true that you did away with most if not
all ninjas in the PVW.  A campaign platform that I fully endorsed, and
it is also true that you are an intelligent and capable person.  I can
tell because you have come out here tonight and stated that your one
true ambition is to be just like me!

[The crowd reacts in a negative fashion.]

Detson:  And why not?  It is true that I am great.  I am the President
and CEO.  I am the Face of this fine Franchise that I rebuilt, and I
am also the Called Shot winner, defeating five outstanding opponents
and Caleb Foley at the last PPV.  In fact, you were one of those
competitors I defeated using my superior technical skill to claim this
Called Shot.  But, alas, Mr. Daniels unfortunately the Office of PVW
President is NOT an elected office.

[Detson shakes his head as the crowd continues to jeer.]

Detson:  No, you see the Company in its desperate nature and despair
bestowed upon me the difficult task of saving this once desolate place
and it is because of my hard work that this Company succeeds, that is
why I am the President and CEO FOR LIFE!!  But fear not, an energetic
person such as yourself can always find a suitable place on my staff.
Because I, Johnny Detson, President and CEO, care about all who fall
under my employ and what better way can I prove that than by giving
someone the chance to work under the greatest executive the wrestling
business has ever seen?

[The crowd continues to boo as Detson points at himself.]

Detson:  That would be me, of course.

[Danny points a finger at Johnny Detson, waving it back and forth.]

D"YH"D:  Uh-uh-uh!  Nice try, Mister Detson!  I know that your
silver-tongued charisma would try to charm your way out of this!  And
offering me a patronage job- a CLASSIC way of keeping your rivals
under control!  And for a moment, I was almost tempted to accept!  But
it's PRECISELY for that reason that your reign MUST come to an end!

[Danny starts speaking more rapidly and confidently.]

D"YH"D:  Upon reflection of your reign as President and CEO for LIFE,
PVW has fallen into a pit of despair, the likes of which have never
been seen before!  Cousins fighting cousins!  Lawyers and Doctors,
living together in sin!  And Corruption!

[Danny start counting off on his fingers]

D"YH"D:  Gibson HAYES... Doc HOLLIDAY... in a HANDICAP match against
the former champion...

[Danny points an accusatory finger at Detson.]

D"YH"D:  You've shown a clear bias and favoritism towards people with
'H' names.  I point out that Richard Marley was the only person in
that title match who didn't begin with an 'H'- and he LOST that title
match!  Clearly, an unlevel playing field- on YOUR reign, Mr.
President!

[Danny stretches out his arms.]

D"YH"D:  But fear not, my friends!  Hope and change has come, in the
form of... ME!  "YOUR HERO", Danny Daniels!  Together, we wiped out
the ninja force.  And together, we shall clear up the mess from the
previous administration.

[Danny stands up straight, pointing both index fingers at Johnny
Detson.]

D"YH"D:  After all... if the fans cannot vote for a new President and
CEO, then violent revolution is the only option remaining.

[Detson glares at Daniels trying to control his anger.]

Detson:  Is that a threat?

[Detson shakes his head in disbelief.]

Detson:  Are you threatening ME?

[Detson glares a hole through Daniels.]

Detson:  ME??!!  Your President?  Your CEO?  Your Face of the
Franchise?  Your Mr. Called Shot?

[The crowd boos.]

Detson:  After all I've done, you're going to come out here... on
Johnny
Detson Appreciation Night and threaten me with violence and
revolution?  Well Mr. Daniels...

[Detson flashes a cocky smirk.]

Detson:  Its not going to work.

[Detson waves a finger back and forth.]

Detson:  No Mr. Daniels, I can see what you are doing.  Drawing me
into a conflict, trying to get my adoring, paying public to turn
against me, and its not going to work.  In your overzealous,
overproduced preparation of ruining the celebration of me you have
forgot one thing.  You may want to be me, but you are, in fact not ME!

[Detson laughs.]

Detson:  Mr. Daniels as ambitious as you are you simply don't have the
experience, intellect, or superior technical skill that I possess.
You are simply unqualified to hold such a lofty position as President
of the PVW.  Do not turn your pleas to the uneducated paying mass that
surrounds you for they will lead you astray, I know from experience.

[More boos as Detson just smirks.]

Detson:  And as for your accusations about the World Title...  that
I'm biased and show favoritism, well unfortunately, you're right I am
extremely biased when it comes to the World Title because the World
Title begins and ends with me, Johnny Detson...

[Detson pats his briefcase for extra emphasis.]

Detson: ...it's a little luxury I'm allowed because I did that little
thing called winning.  And last I checked my name doesn't have an "H"
in it... unless you count "Helluva Guy" which I am of course.

[Detson flashes his cocky smirk.]

Detson:  So as we've just proven, your accusations are unfounded, your
experience is lacking, and your track record of being a proven winner
time after time is, well to be nice about it, a little spotty.  So if
you don't mind, we'll consider the matter closed, and I'll forget
about the veil threat of treason you made against my company.  We can
get on to more important things, like the celebration of ME!

[With that, as the crowd boos him, Detson flips the microphone to the
canvas and begins to leave the ring.]

D"YH"D:  Johnny... angry Johnny... I'll see you [pointing a finger at
Detson] in the ring.  And I'll see YOU!  [waving his hand to the
crowd]  on election day!  TOODLES~!

[Danny waves to the crowd and heads back]

CL: HOLY MOLY ... What a way to start off Heatwave!

FH: What a way to start off, Johnny Detson Appreciation Night!

CL: We are hot off the heals of End Game II and what a night it was.
We saw two new champions ... Well three if you count the tag team
title situation.  Most importantly, Gibson Hayes is your PVW World
Heavyweight Champion.

FH: A more perfect scenario couldn't have happened.  Gibson Hayes as
the World Champion and Johnny Detson as Mr. Called Shot.  PVW's future
is in good hands.

CL: Right now has been dubbed the time for change.  And rightfully so!
So much has changed since the last time we opened up a show.  We only
have two hours ahead of us so let's just leap into the deep end with
no life jacket shall we.

FH: Let the story unfold ... I like it!

HD:  Now, ladies and gentlemen, coming to the ring... hailing from
Pittsburgh, PA, at combined weight of only a mere five hundred pounds!
They are the twin brothers Houlihan, JD and Devin... ..

!!! THE RENEGADES !!!

["Know Your Enemy" by Rage Against the Machine bursts forth from the
PA system, as the crowd stands.  Some cheer, some just stare, but
either way, out from the curtains from JD and Devin! Each one takes a
side on the ramp way, and raises their hands in the air, trying to

elicit some support!  As the brothers begin their approach to the
ring, taking time to slap some fan's hands on the way, there Uncle Sid
makes his way out from the curtains, following the pair down to the
ring.  JD elects to the take the steps, as Devin rolls underneath the
bottom ropes.  The take turns climbing the turnbuckles, working the
crowd, as the song winds down.  However, before the song completely

ends, the duo plays rock, paper, scissors to decide who starts the
match!]

[The mood changes as "The Death March" by Chopin begins to play
over the PA system.]


HD: Their opponents ... Accompanied by Pizzazz Elysee.  The team of,
Shadoe Rage and Derek Rage ...

!!! THE PROPHETS OF RAGE !!!

[The houselights go down to be replaced by purple spotlights. Smoke
fills the arena and the broad, slow, deep, gloomy notes of Chopin's
"Death March" suck the joy out of the arena. The curtains part and
Pizzazz Elysee is the first to emerge from the backstage curtains.
Right behind here sweeps the Angel of Death, Shadoe Rage. In sharp
contrast to the dirge, Rage is animated. He wears his sparkling
sequined cloak. He throws out his arms, flourishing to the dirge's
heavy beat. Right behind him strides his brother, Derek Rage. He wears
a boxer's robe with the hood up over his head.

He looks like a giant Grim Reaper.  With slow deliberate steps he
marches towards the ring. His face betrays no expression. As Shadoe
Rage comes to the ring, he pulls of his sunglasses and hands them to a
child at ringside. His eyes burn with an almost inhuman fever. From
the floor he springs up the ring steps and leaps over the top rope. He
spins and flourishes in the ring to the time of the music before he
whips off the cape. He leans over the ropes, pointing at the child he
gave his glasses. "The violence tonight is all because of you!" he
screams]

CL: Oh you can cut the intensity and tension in this one with a knife.

FH: I know...that's what is going to make this match great!

[On the outside, JD and Devin Houlihan are yelling at referee to clear
a member of the team of The Prophets of Rage out of the ring to start
the match. Reluctantly, Derek Rage decide to step out of the ring as
Shadoe Rage steps up to start the match. ]

CL: It looks like Shadoe Rage will start things out for his team and
look at this!  He's demanding Devin Houlihan start it out for his
team!

=========================================

PVW - HEATWAVE - TAG TEAM MATCH
The Renegades v. Prophets of Rage

=========================================


*DING*DING*DING*

[Still on the outside, Devin Houlihan is asking the crowd if he should
start off against Shadoe Rage and, naturally, they get behind him 100
percent.  Devin Houlihan jumps in the ring and the bell is rung.
Immediately, though, Devin Houlihan rushes towards him but Shadoe
Rage, who is much quicker, side steps him and Devin Houlihan hits the
turnbuckles chest first.  To the surprise of everyone, Shadoe Rage
quickly tags in his brother Derek Rage into the match and Derek Rage
proceeds to turn Devin Houlihan around and sting him with a vicious
knife edge chop to the chest.]

CL: That son of a.....

FH: Watch it ...  Shadoe Rage obviously had no intention of fighting
Devin Houlihan right now and he definitely suckered him in with that
one.

[Devin Houlihan then deliver a knife edge chop of his own to Derek
Rage and after chopping Derek Rage a couple more times, Devin Houlihan
pulls him out of the corner and whips him into the ropes.  On the
comeback, Devin Houlihan taps him with a dropkick to the face which
stuns the big man but he doesn't go down.  To follow up, Devin
Houlihan bounces himself off the ropes and, as he comes back, drives
another dropkick into Derek Rage but, this time it is in his knee....]

CL: Well it looks like Devin Houlihan was watching some of his old
tapes.

FH: Yea, and like that match, it most likely won't work as Derek Rage
will get the best of him here in a minute.

[Derek Rage is defenseless to an oncoming Devin Houlihan who bounces
back off the ropes and drives a snap leg-drop across his throat.
Wasting no time, Devin Houlihan picks his opponent up and pushes him
into his corner.  Devin Houlihan quickly tags JD Houlihan in but,
before Devin Houlihan leaves, he takes Derek Rage, bounces off the
turnbuckles, and drives him to the mat with a beautiful Tornado
DDT.... ]


"___THUUUUUD___"


CL: Tornado DDT by Devin Houlihan and here comes JD Houlihan.....OFF
THE TOP ROPE WITH A LEG DROP!  Great team work!

[With the crowd going crazy at this point, JD Houlihan looks on and
smiles a bit before picking his opponent up and driving a forearm into
his face.  Now, with Derek Rage stunned a bit, JD Houlihan bounces off
the ropes and goes up high with a head scissors on Derek Rage.
However, something goes wrong as Derek Rage regains his composure
and.... ]

FH: OH THAT WAS SWEET!!!!!!!!!

CL: Derek Rage blocked the head scissors and turned it into a modified
face buster on JD Houlihan!  JD Houlihan hit that ring harder than
I've ever seen before!

[JD Houlihan is now holding his face on the mat while Derek Rage is
still a bit out of it. However, his tag team partner begin to scream
at him and Derek Rage finally reaches over to make the tag to Shadoe
Rage.  Shadoe Rage runs in the ring and drives a kick into JD
Houlihan's ribs for good measure.  Now that he has established his
control, Shadoe Rage pulls JD Houlihan up by his hair...]

CL: Ouch!  Shadoe Rage just has so many ways to brutalize you, even if
they don't look that impressive.

[Now holding JD Houlihan by his hair, Shadoe Rage slaps his hand
around his neck, lifts JD up, and practically DDT's him right through
the mat.  The crowd boos like crazy as JD Houlihan is nearly put
through the ring and Shadoe Rage looks on in enjoyment.  JD Houlihan,
though, gets no time to rest as Shadoe Rage gets on top of him and
begins to club him in the face with closed fists..... ]

CL: Come on referee....he's mugging the man out there!

FH: That's not a mugging ...

[As JD Houlihan continues to be brutalized by Shadoe Rage, the crowd
erupts into cheers as Devin Houlihan rushes into the ring and pulls
Shadoe Rage off of JD Houlihan.  The show of courage, though, only
infuriates Shadoe Rage as he looks on at Devin Houlihan and, in a
split second, spears him up against the turnbuckles ...]

FH: Shadoe Rage is just so vicious it's scary at times!

[However, before Shadoe Rage can attack Devin Houlihan, JD Houlihan
comes up from behind and drops him with a beautiful reverse DDT.  With
the crowd going crazy, Devin Houlihan leaves the ring and JD Houlihan
makes the hot tag to his twin brother Devin .... ]

CL: Business is about to pick up ...

[Wasting no time, Devin Houlihan picks Shadoe Rage up and body slams
him right back down to the mat.  Suddenly, Devin Houlihan runs to the
ropes, jumps to the second one.... ]

CL: Devin Houlihan attempting a springboard moonsault....WAIT A
MINUTE! Derek Rage just pushed him off!

FH: HAHA!  Way to go Derek!

[Devin Houlihan hits the mat hard as Derek Rage knocks him down to the
canvas.  Quickly, Shadoe Rage gets up and makes the hot tag to his
partner in crime, Derek Rage, as the crowd fills with boos.... ]

FH: Listen to great ovation ...

[Quickly, Derek Rage runs in the ring and kicks a rising Devin
Houlihan back down to the apron.  Before Derek Rage continues, he
spits at JD Houlihan in a show of utter disgust and lack of respect.
Derek Rage, with violence and furry in his mind, scrapes Devin
Houlihan up off the mat and drills in the face with a closed fist. ]

CL: Man!  Derek Rage just took the wind of out Devin's sails with that
one and to top it off he just gave Devin Houlihan a lightning quick
DDT!

[As soon as Devin Houlihan's skull hits the mat, Derek Rage gets on
top of him and begins to scream right in Devin Houlihan's face.
Without any more hesitation after that, Derek Rage begins to club away
at Devin Houlihan's face with stiff forearm shots as the crowd boos
like crazy..... ]

CL: And now Devin Houlihan has fallen victim to Derek Rage's brutal
fist shots.....WAIT......JD JUST CAUGHT DEREK FROM BEHIND WITH A
DROPKICK!!!!!!"

[The crowd explodes as JD Houlihan comes off the top rope and catches
Derek Rage in the back of the head with a dropkick.  As soon as Derek
Rage hits the mat, Devin Houlihan gets up and begins to say something
to JD Houlihan.  Quickly, Devin Houlihan leaves the ring while JD
Houlihan picks Derek Rage up and drills him to the mat with a snap
suplex..... ]

FH: Devin Houlihan's up top......

CL: AIR DEVIN AND JUST CAUGHT DEREK WITH THAT SENTON BACKSPLASH!

[The crowd is absolutely on their feet as Devin Houlihan celebrates
the move by going for a pin attempt on Derek Rage..... ]






!!! ONE !!!








!!! TWO !!!




[Suddenly, Shadoe Rage enter the ring and proceed to break the count
by kicking Devin Houlihan in the back of the head.  However, as they
do this, the crowd goes crazy as JD Houlihan rush into the ring and
takes Shadoe Rage over the top rope with a running clothesline.  The
impact, though, sends both of them to the outside of the ring while
Derek Rage and Devin Houlihan are left in the ring. On the outside,
Shadoe Rage and JD Houlihan are going at it while back on in the
inside, Devin Houlihan brings Derek Rage back to his feet and whips
him into the ropes.  On the comeback, Devin Houlihan jumps to catch
Derek Rage in a hurricanrana but..... ]

CL: OH!  DEREK JUST DROVE DEVIN RIGHT INTO THE MAT WITH A POWERBOMB!

[Somehow, Derek Rage blocked the attempted move by Devin Houlihan and
turned it around by driving him into the mat with a lightning quick
powerbomb. Wasting no time, Derek Rage picks Devin Houlihan up, goes
behind him, and surprises the crowd by nailing Devin Houlihan with a
beautiful release Dragon Suplex. Back on the outside, Shadoe Rage now
has JD Houlihan up in a Gorilla Press slam and, for an added effect,
drops JD Houlihan throat first down on the guardrail.... ]

FH: YES!  YES!  The Prophets of Rage are in total control tonight and
there is no looking back!

[Back in the ring, Derek Rage is now waiting for Devin Houlihan to get
up and, when Devin Houlihan does, Derek Rage sends him back down with
a big boot.  To follow up, Derek Rage bounces off the ropes and drives
a pointed elbow straight into Devin Houlihan's throat before going for
the pin.... ]







!!! ONE !!!










!!! TWO !!!









CL: Derek Rage almost had it there but Devin Houlihan gets his foot on
the ropes.

[Derek Rage looks a bit disgusted that Devin Houlihan did not stay
down and, as a result, kicks Devin Houlihan square in the face.  All
of a sudden, Shadoe Rage enters the ring while JD Houlihan is gasping
for air on the outside.  With Shadoe Rage in the ring, Derek Rage
holds Devin Houlihan from behind and allows Shadoe Rage to drive the a
closed fist right into Devin Houlihan's heart. ]

CL: They are just mugging Devin Houlihan here tonight!

FH: I know!  Isn't it great!

[Suddenly, to add more salt in the wound, Pizzazz Elysee is now on the
ring apron and telling Derek and Shadoe Rage to bring Devin Houlihan
towards her...]

CL: Somebody do something!  It's 3 on 1 and I don't care who you are,
those aren't good odds!

[With Pizzazz Elysee on the ring apron, Shadoe Rage and Derek Rage
hold Devin Houlihan up so Pizzazz Elysee can finally get his shot at
him.  To the disdain of everyone, Pizzazz Elysee slaps Devin Houlihan
square in the face as Shadoe Rage and Derek Rage connect with Genesis
to the skull of Devin Houlihan... ]


"___TWAAAAAAP___"


CL: Good God!  The Prophets of Rage are doing a number on Devin
Houlihan tonight!

FH: You have to wonder if that was a message that the females in the
PVW aren't going to take their abusive ways!

CL: Oh brother ...

FH: I think it was!

[Seeing he has the opportunity, Shadoe Rage arrogantly covers Devin
Houlihan while Derek Rage look on in confidence..... ]








!!! ONE !!!










!!! TWO !!!











!!! THREE !!!






CL: NO! NO! NO!  DEVIN KICKED OUT!

[Even though Devin Houlihan kicked out, he is far from safe as The
Prophets of Rage continue to pound him with kicks again.  As this is
happening, though, the crowd erupts as...... ]

CL: IT'S UNCLE SID TO THE RESCUE!!!

FH: MY GOD THIS GUY IS A JOKE AND IS GOOD FOR NOTHING!!!

[Uncle Sid jumps up on the apron and gets the attention of Shadoe Rage
and Derek Rage.  As this is happening, we can see in the background JD
Houlihan squirming into the ring. JD goes over to his brother Devin
and is telling him to man up.... ]

CL: Oh this looks like a trap but the Prophets doesn't have a clue!

[Uncle Sid is keeping Shadoe and Derek Rage occupied while JD Houlihan
and Devin Houlihan are both back up on their feet.  Suddenly, Derek
Rage begins to threaten Uncle Sid as the crowd boos like crazy. Uncle
Sid has had enough and goes to slap Derek Rage.  However, Derek Rage
grabs Uncle Sid by his arm and holds it firmly while he looks
on......]

CL: Don't do it Derek!  Even you aren't that twisted!

[Before Derek Rage can react, though, the crowd ABSOLUTELY EXPLODES as
JD and Devin Houlihan turns Shadoe and Derek Rage around for ... ]

CL: A DOUBLE SUPERKICK ON THE PROPHETS OF RAGE!  MY STARS THEY ARE
BLOWING THE ROOF OFF OF THIS PLACE!"

[A double superkick by Devin and JD Houlihan decks both members of the
Prophets of Rage right in the mouth.  JD JD Houlihan hits Shadoe Rage
as Devin Houlihan hits Derek Rage. Derek Rage is sent over the top
rope and to the concrete as a result of the impact while Shadoe Rage
remains in the ring.  Now, with The Renegades back in the ring, JD
Houlihan picks Shadoe Rage up and........ ]


"___KAAAAAAAAAAATHUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"



CL: RUNNING POWERBOMB BY JD!  DEVIN IS GOING TO THE TOP ROPE!!!!!!

[As the crowd goes absolutely crazy, Devin Houlihan flies onto Shadoe
Rage with a textbook top rope flying headbutt...]



"___SMAAAAAACK____"



CL: CONCUSSION CITY!!!!

[Now, the pin from Devin Houlihan as the crowd continues to erupt....]

FH: Shadoe Rage is not the legal man.

CL: I don't think it matters as the referee is counting ...








!!! ONE !!!











FH: Pizzazz Elysee just grabbed the leg of Shadoe Rage and places it
on the bottom rope.






!!! TWO !!!







[Just before the referee go to slap the mat for the three he notices
Shadoe Rage's leg on the rope. Pizzazz Elysee is back on the ring
apron as Devin Houlihan is asking the referee if they won. The referee
is shaking his head no. Pizzazz Elysee is on the ring apron just
smirking and daring Devin Houlihan to do something about it.]

FH: What kind of man would you be Devin if you decked Pizzazz
Elysee!!!   Only a Houlihan would do it!

CL: A better question may be what type of woman would be begging a man
to smack her?

FH: Well let's be honest she does hang out with the Rage brothers.

[Meanwhile Derek Rage has made his way back into the ring and he grabs
JD Houlihan and tosses him over the top rope down to the floor. Uncle
Sid goes over to check on JD as Devin Houlihan stands there thinking
about decking Pizzazz Elysee...  He then stops and shakes his head
"no" but Derek Rage quickly turns around Devin Houlihan and ...]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


[MASSIVE HEEL HEAT!]


FH: THE HAND OF GOD!!!

CL: OH MY GOD THAT WAS A DEVASTATING CLAWHOLD SLAM!!! THE COVER BY
DEREK RAGE!!!







!!! ONE !!!









!!! TWO !!!









!!! THREE !!!


HD: The winners of this match the team of Shadoe and Derek Rage ...
THE PROPHETS OF RAGE!!!

FH: The Prophets are back to their winning ways, Chip!

CL: A much needed win by the Rage brothers.  The series between these
two teams are now tied at one a piece.  You have to imagine that
_both_ teams want to find out just who is the better team.

FH: We just answered that question here tonight.

CL: Some how I have a feeling it's just the beginning, Fred.

FH: And knowing the Prophets I am sure they would welcome the chance
to smash the Renegades again and again.  Bring it on!

CL: I am getting the call to go backstage where, Dean seems to be
backstage.

[The scene cuts backstage where we see "Swingin'" Dean Hayes walking
around the locker room area with microphone in hand. Various personnel
walk by him as well as some of the PVW wrestlers. Dean exchanges
various smiles or nods with people as he continues walking the
hallways. Suddenly his eyes widen and his energy level spikes as he
tells the camera man to hurry and follow. With camera man in tow, Dean
hustles through the hallway he is in currently to catch up with
someone very familiar.]

Dean: Sin...Sin...hold on a second, please!

[The massive Chicago native is seen looking back towards the source of
Dean's voice as Dean hustles towards him.  Sinister is wearing a white
Chicago Bulls shirt with the number "1" in red, black jeans and black
urban-styled boots. Sinister's face is a reflection of aggravation and
this causes obvious pause as Dean approaches him]

Dean: Sinister, may I please have a word...sir?
Sin: Dean, there's no need to call me sir.  you're not the source of
my current mood so don't trip.

Dean [Obviously relieved]: Thank you Sinister. [Takes a deep breath]
I'm sorry but it's my job to ask the tough questions Sinister.
Obviously the PVW saw what transpired between you and Christopher
Black and some call it a travesty while others call it overdue. Your
thoughts?

[Sinister takes a deep breath while rubbing his chin slowly with his
right hand and smiles what can be called sarcastically. He lowers his
right hand, cracks his knuckles loudly and steeples his fingers]

Sin: Well Dean, to be quite honest, some of the thoughts I have
shouldn't be expressed out loud, especially on this program. This is a
family show, after all, though what Cole and Craven did to one another
is a FAR cry from Rated G material. However it is safe for me to say
this.  First and foremost what Black did to Senor Cloak Dos was
absolutely appalling! To be honest Dean, I am becoming extremely
irritated by the sneak attacks, especially one that threatens a man's
career...his ability to provide for his family. That is just uncalled
for, particularly due to jealousy or being a conniving prick!
[Dean appears to be a little more nervous as Sinister raises his voice
at the conclusion of his statement]

Dean: I...I understand Sinister. It has been well documented that
Black has conducted numerous sneak attacks and that seems to be his
M.O. Do you believe this has lead him to be the current Network
Television Champion?

Sin: Christopher Black operates under morals that I do not believe in,
but honestly Dean, that doesn't matter. This business is primarily
results driven and when you look at the current situation, he is the
current Network Title holder. Congratulations to him. [Sinister claps
mockingly with a look of utter disdain on his face. He stops clapping
and crosses his thick arms] Black did what he felt he had to do to
defeat me, and basically he had to cheat. That's fine with me Dean
because that proves to me and everyone else in the PVW that Black is
NOT capable of defeating me without breaking the rules, bottom line.
He can rant and rave about this and that but the truth is right in
front of everyone.

Dean: Well Sinister, now that you're no longer the Network Champion,
what direction do you take now?

Sin: A very good question Dean. [He unfolds his arms and a sly smile
slowly spreads across his dark complexion and a hint of pleasure
flashes in his eyes] Now, Dean, I can switch focus to becoming the
hunter rather than the hunted. It's been a while since 'I've had
the...pleasure...of being the hunter but believe me Dean, I will
relish in the fact that...

[Sinister is very rudely interrupted by the man known to the PVW as
"The Biz" walks in to frame alone. He's wearing a black button up
shirt with a pair of dark blue jeans.]

Biz: ...you're old.

Sin: [Eyes Biz bemused] "Excuse me?"

Biz: Oh I'm sorry. I was merely finishing your statement and saying
you will relish in the fact that you're old. Not to mention a has-
been, never-was, and never-will-be. See you can stand there and talk
all you want about how you're now the "hunter" but that's just a
coping mechanism because we _ALL_ know that you nothing without your
Network title. This "hunting" nonsense is your way of avoiding the
subject.

Sin: Has-been, never-was, never-will-be? Is that right little man?  I
have won more titles than you have had sex son, so tread carefully.

[The Biz puts his hand over his mouth and dry heaves]

Biz: Oh man... I think I'm gonna be sick. Now I know why they call you
Sinister... because your breath smells like brimstone. (pause) No
wait...
it smells just like Tommy Ryder after I set his butt on fire.

[Sinister, having heard enough, lunges at The Biz and wrestles him to
the ground. The two roll around for a moment, both men trying to get
the upper hand. The Biz finds an opening and sucker punches Sinister
in the gut, allowing him to get back to his feet. Sinister is hunched
over on the ground and doesn't see The Biz nail him in the head with a
Pele style kick.  Sinister doubles over as The Biz follows up with a
second kick right to the back of the big man's skull!]

"___THUUUUD___"

Biz: I suggest you stay down, OLD MAN! Wouldn't want your broken hip
on my conscience.

[The Biz stalks Sinister who is laid out on the ground. A group of PVW
ring agents rush in to usher The Biz off and medics come in to check
on Sinister. He waves them off with a grunt of anger and pain as he
rubs the back of his head while breathing angrily.]

CL: Right now I am not sure if I can say anything kindly about the
Biz.  Tommy Ryder was severely hurt at End Game II thanks to the
actions of, Mike Bisignano.

FH: Wrestling is a man's sport, Chip.  While I don't root for any
career to be ended ... Unless your name is Caleb Foley ... You know
what kind of risks you take when you enter the ring.

CL: While I agree with you.  Using a _FIREBALL_ is crossing the line.
And now he has apparently hand picked PVW's locker room leader and the
go-to guy for all PVW youngsters, Sinister to go after.  What does the
Biz have against up and coming superstars like Tommy Ryder?

FH: Maybe he is making a statement ... Instead of investing in the
"next big thing" the "big thing" is already on the roster.

[Interrupting ... Cue "Attention Whore" by Deadmau5.]

CL: Is that really Chance McKenzie? I thought he'd left PVW after End
Game!

FH: Greatness like McKenzie isn't going to just leave after a loss to
Mercenary. Besides, Mercenary wasn't at his level.

CL: A win is still a win, Fred.

[No fireworks. No strobe lights. No flames. Quite simply, "Highlight"
Chance McKenzie emerges from the back _very_ slowly, utilizing a pair
of crutches to assist him. All pain aside, McKenzie is still dressed
in a navy blue Armani suit, which he still takes the time to flaunt by
posing at the top of the ramp before he slowly makes his way down to
the ringside area.]

CL: Noticeably absent from McKenzie's side is his valet, Ashleigh
Winters. After the issues between them, you have to wonder just what's
going through her head. Perhaps we've seen the last of her as his
valet... and perhaps even as his fiance.

FH: She'd be stupid to make that decision. Chance McKenzie has got it
all. It won't be long until he's snatched up.

CL: Is that your way of asking him on a date?

FH: Bite me.

[McKenzie reaches ringside, once again taking his time ascending the
steps and gingerly getting into the ring. Once inside, McKenzie walks
over to one of the turnbuckles and sets the crutches against them.
With a microphone in his hand, McKenzie looks down at the canvas, as
if gathering his thoughts. He then begins to speak, with a very morose
- even humbled - look.]

CMcK: Over the course of these past few months, I have decided to
align the Chance McKenzie "brand name" with one Jessica Marshall. A
very prominent, headstrong, and demanding businesswoman who wanted to
stop at _nothing_ to rid this place of Mercenary. This included
agreeing to bring me into PVW, as long as I made it my top priority to
work alongside her plight.

[McKenzie shakes his head in disgust.]

CMcK: In the weeks and months that followed, my life went into a
downward spiral. I was emotionally and physically abused from
Mercenary and his tricks. I was savagely attacked by a canine, I was
publicly embarrassed, and my fiance was led to believe that I was
unfaithful. And, though I tried time and again to get myself to care,
I simply couldn't get motivated.

[McKenzie sighs.]

CMcK: In other words, it was a _mistake_.

[Looking towards the back, McKenzie continues on.]

CMcK: Truth be told, Jessica Marshall is nothing more than a selfish
_bitch_.

[CROWD POP!]

CMcK: Jessica Marshall cared about reestablishing what power she
_used_ to have in Phoenix Valley Wrestling, and didn't care who she
had to step on in order to do it. That _included_ yours truly - a man
who had aspirations of grandeur that he had to forcibly set aside for
a fight with some guy that, quite frankly, couldn't hold a _candle_ to
me. As far as I'm concerned...

[McKenzie runs a thumb across his throat.]

CMcK: ...our business relationship is _over_.

[CROWD POP!]

CMcK: Let's just stop it right there, lemmings. This isn't Chance
McKenzie trying to appeal to the masses. My dislike for Jessica
Marshall is an unfortunate coincidence, something I'm not _choosing_
to share with you. The fact still remains, I _loathe_ each and every
one of you. So don't expect that I'll have some clever catchphrase for
you to chant along with or that I'll be signing autographs for your
little bratty children. I'm still - and always will - be about one
person... _me_.

[With those words, the crowd shows their displeasure with a chant.]

# HOW'S YOUR SPHINCTER?
# Clap, Clap, ClapClapClap!
# HOW'S YOUR SPHINCTER?
# Clap, Clap, ClapClapClap!

[Incensed, McKenzie tries to quiet the audience. That only makes the
crowd louder.]

# HOW'S YOUR SPHINCTER?
# Clap, Clap, ClapClapClap!
# HOW'S YOUR SPHINCTER?
# Clap, Clap, ClapClapClap!

CMcK: If you'll allow me to...

# HOW'S YOUR SPHINCTER?
# Clap, Clap, ClapClapClap!
# HOW'S YOUR SPHINCTER?
# Clap, Clap, ClapClapClap!

CMcK: SHUT UP!

[Laughter. The crowd is apparently enjoying McKenzie's pain.]

CMcK: It's not funny! It's nothing to joke about! I could have had
career threatening injuries! I _refuse_ to be insulted!

[But of course, the crowd just chants louder.]

# HOW'S YOUR SPHINCTER?
# Clap, Clap, ClapClapClap!
# HOW'S YOUR SPHINCTER?
# Clap, Clap, ClapClapClap!

CMcK: It's just like you pathetic morons to get pleasure from my pain!
It's ridiculous that less than two minutes ago you were all so
desperate to cling to my bashing of someone you loathe! You're all
like rabid dogs! You need to be put down! You'd _never_ do this if one
of your "heroes" had the same injury befall them! How _dare_ you
people pass judgement on me!

CL: Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black...

FH: When you're as good as McKenzie, you can call kettles whatever you
want.

CL: You're missing the point, Fred.

CMcK: You know what? It's just fine. Insult me. Start your little
chants. Try and keep me down all you want. But when all is said and
done, Chance McKenzie _always_ comes out on top. I am _still_ the best
thing that this place has _ever_ seen! It's only a matter of time
until I become a champion. No matter who I have to destroy. No matter
who I have to defeat. No amount of jokes, insults, or criticism is
going to hold me down... and _nobody_ in the back is going to prove me
wrong. _Nobody_!

[Boos!]

CMcK: Consider this the "Highlight" of the night. I'll now return you
to your...

[McKenzie yawns.]

CMcK: ...regularly scheduled programming.

[With that, "Attention Whore" cues back up. McKenzie, though wincing,
poses for the crowd inside the ring.]

FH: Now that's perfection right there. Plain and simple.

CL: Some strong words from Chance McKenzie. I'm sure there's a lot of
PVW stars who will have something to say about them.

FH: Like whom? Seriously? Chance McKenzie is the next big thing. Mark
my words.

CL: Never lacking confidence you can bet he will have a chance to back
those words up.  The PVW has a roster full of guys that consider
themselves the best.  Up next we have the PVW debut of a wrestling
icon, Sammy Knight.  However in his debut stands a _huge_ task, The
Misery Machine.  Before we head to the ring we have Manson backstage.

[The camera cuts backstage. Marcus Manson sits on a bench in front of
his locker, wrapping his fists in tape.]

Manson: I'm not a talker, and I normally don't need anyone to listen
to me, but there's exceptions to every rule, and tonight is one of
those. One person in particular needs to listen very, very closely to
what I'm going to say.

[Manson wraps the tape around his wrist, flexing his hand.]

Manson: I've heard it all over the years. I've been called the
"Mystery Machine" by young punks like Steve Douglas. I've been called
a Murderer more than once. Oddly enough, I don't remember by who
anymore. Coulda been Steve Douglas, coulda been Chris Hopper. Maybe it
was Rick Styles or Alex Extreme, maybe it was Prof Payne or Ivan
Kolinski. I've been called a lot of names by a lot of people who knew
about my past...

[Manson bites the tape with his teeth, and finishes the wrap, moving
to his other hand. His next words are quiet, but clear.]

But no one has ever presumed to tell me how to handle my personal
life. I had to go back and watch End Game, Knight, because I was
already out of the building when you made your PVW debut. If I had
watched it, I probably wouldn't have made much note anyway.

The verbal fellatio heaped upon you at End Game by Chip Lester and
Fred Hoyle made me ill. Either you are the second coming of Christ or
someone threatened Fred Hoyle with early retirement if he didn't stick
to the script because you are not the type to earn his praise. It's
funny that everyone left their seats for you, because I have never
heard your name before.

[Manson waves his hand dismissively.]

I'm not worried about whose palms have been greased or whose jobs are
being threatened until its mine, and thus far no one has said word one
to me about you.

Your debut wasn't all that auspicious, in my opinion... but things
have certainly changed after Showcase...

[Manson glances up from his taping and looks directly into the camera.
His steel grey eyes are intensely cold.]

Did you want my attention, Knight? Because you certainly 
_HAVE_IT_."

[Manson pauses, and the only sound for a moment is the tape coming off
the roll. Manson has been very meticulous about taping his hands up,
and they are covered in tape from knuckle to forearm. His face darkens
as he slips his fingerless leather gloves on his hands.]

Knight, it has been nearly 10 years since anyone in the business has
dared to mention Corin's death in a God Damned _promo_.

You want to tell _ME_ about Misery?

I don't give a bleep about where you've been or what you've been
through. I don't care what you've seen or how much time you spent
behind bars. You think that makes you an expert on Marcus Manson?

You want to try and tell me how things are? What it's like to lose?
You don't know , Knight. You say that you can't fully
understand me, yet you presume to try and tell me how to handle my own
?

[Manson's fists are clenched, and the roll of tape is crushed in his
grip as he clenches his jaw and inhales deeply.]

You talk about hope? Well, I'm full of hope right now. I hope that you
know the can of worms you opened, Knight. Because the last person who
tried to make me see the light and see the error of my ways was a man
named Penance. His career ended when he stepped into the ring with me
after trying to "save me".

But if you know so much about me, my past, the PVW, and the
Widowmakers then you probably already know that too.

You wanna be cute, Knight? You wanna wrap up some sort of moral to the
story for your little boy so he doesn't end up a juvenile delinquent?

You want to make it seem like the story you tell encompasses all of
us?
That the message applies to you, to me, to your little future ex-con?

I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into.

Knight, most of all, I hope you are at peace with yourself...
actually, forget that, i hope you have a ton of regrets, because in
just a little bit, I am going to teach you a thing or two about
Misery, and I am going to do my damnedest to make your precious son a
full-fledged

_ORPHAN_.

[We cut back to ring side.  Chip and Fred seem to be taken a-back at
the fire in the Misery Machine.]

CL: It appears that Sammy Knight has touched a soft spot with the
Misery Machine, Fred.

FH: You had to awaken the beast, Sammy.  Spectre wasn't good enough
for you ... No you had to _WAKE_ up, Marcus Manson.  Hey I gave you
praise at End Game.  Your a respected man in this industry and I admit
the thought of seeing you in the ring with some of PVW's top stars had
me excited.   The only problem is ... You aren't going to make it that
far.  In a few months we will be talking about what might have been.

CL: Chilling words, Fred.  However if there is anyone in this industry
who can stand up for what is right and take on men like Marcus Manson
and The Spectre then it's, Sammy Knight.

FH: The nice thing about that ... We are going to find out.  Marcus
Manson isn't going to let this go away.  Not this time.

CL: And you can bet that, The Spectre is back stage loving the rage
... loving the emotion ... loving the chaos.

FH: It's what the Spectre does.

HD: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one
fall with a fifteen minute time limit.

Introducing first...hailing from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and weighing
in at 295 pounds...he is...

"The Misery Machine" Marrrrrrrcusssss Manson!

[But Manson doesn't show up at the entrance as "Rooster" by Alice in
Chains plays over the PA...after a moment, it becomes obvious why as
Sammy Knight comes stumbling through the curtain with Manson half a
step behind him.]

FH: Whoa!  Looks like Knight attacked poor, helpless Manson back
stage, Chip!  Call a cop!

CL: Somehow I'm guessing it was the other way around, Fred.

[Manson takes two large steps, then fires a knee lift that catches
Knight in the face and sends the big man moving towards the ring once
again.]

FH: Looks like Knight's stay here in PVW is gonna be short: Pissing
off The Spectre...deciding to brawl with Marcus Manson.  He musta got
dropped on his head a lot where he was before...

CL: Sammy Knight is one of the finest competitors out there today,
Fred.  he's an accomplished wrestler and he's stood toe to toe with
some of the toughest guys in this sport.

FH: Well, THIS guys' got him by around fifty pounds.  That's not
exactly a scenario that lends itself to standing  and trading punches.

[Knight has more spine than Fred though...he steadies himself on the
barricade and fires a big right hand into Manson's stomach, then a
hard left to the side of his head that slows the bigger man own...then
a second right, after which he grabs Manson's head and rams it into
the steel barricade, sending the Misery Machine stumbling towards the
ring.]

FH: Using the steel barrier is cheating!  He could have done career
ending damage!  Call the cops!

CL: Are you gonna say that every time Knight gets in ANY offense?

FH: That was my plan, yeah.

[Knight takes Manson by the hair and simply sends him running towards
the ring...then rolls in after...]

=========================================

PVW - HEATWAVE - ONE ON ONE MATCH
Marcus Manson v. Sammy Knight

=========================================


*DING*DING*DING*



CL: And we're finally officially underway, folks!

FH: I dunno...I liked how things were going before they got into the
ring.

CL: This match may not last long with the way things started here
tonight.

FH: Like I said ... Sammy Knight wrote a check that he can't cash,
Chip.

[Both men climb to their feet, already breathing heavily.  A quick
collar and elbow tie up leads to Manson slapping on a side headlock on
Knight.  Knight tries to power his way out, but Manson's simply too
strong.  He gives a shove and sends The Misery Machine into the far
ropes.  Knight goes down and Manson goes over top...rebounds off the
far ropes, and gets caught by an jumping shoulder block that puts the
big man down on the mat.]

[POP!]

CL: Big move by Knight to take Manson off his vertical base!

FH: He's just making him mad right now.  Manson's not a nice guy, and
he's gonna want Knight to suffer a bit before he tears his heart out.

CL: You think that's likely...that Manson's playing opossum?

FH: I think that with Manson's Heart Punch, you LITERALLY have to
worry about having your heart torn out...so yeah, I do.

[Manson is quickly back up to his feet, as is Knight.  The newcomer
fires a snap jab in at the bigger man...but Manson's willing to absorb
the hit in exchange for jabbing Knight in the eyes.  The official
warns him, but Manson just ignores him, following the stumbling Knight
as he walks away, his left hand to his face.]

FH: Sammy Knight may be tough, but no matter how tough you are, I
don't know anyone that can ignore a thumb in their eye...

CL: You made a career off of that knowledge.

FH: Yes I did.

CL: You don't have to sound so proud of it.

FH: Yes I do.

[Manson steps up behind Knight and grabs him around the waist, then
hauls back and sends Knight FLYING over his head with a release German
suplex!]


"___THUUUUUD___"



CL: OH my WORD!  That's the sort of move that can end a match, Fred!

FH: When Marcus sends  you airborne, you get a nice view of the cheap
seats, Chip.  That man's six feet, nine inches of bad intentions, and
he used it all right there.

CL: ...That may be the most ridiculous thing you've ever said in your
life.

FH: Regretted it the second it was out of my mouth.

[Knight is dazed and trying to get to his feet as Manson stalks over
to him, picking up the newcomer and planting a couple of right hands
to his forehead before sending him into the ropes and rattling the
apron with a stiff Spinebuster.]


"___THUUUUUUD____"



CL: Dear lord!  Manson's giving Knight a rude welcome to PVW tonight!

FH: I think I'd leave at this point...there's just no upside to taking
this sort of abuse.

CL: If you took a spinebuster like that, I don't think you'd be
leaving under your own power, Fred.

FH: ...Fair enough.

[Manson smiles, then plants a couple of hard stops into Knight's gut
before hoisting him up and drilling him into the canvas with a
Gutwrench Powerbomb...staying down for the cover...



!!! ONE !!!





!!! TWO !!!




FH: NO!

CL: Knight has too much for Manson to put him down that
easily...though Marcus has taken some time to yell at the
official about a supposed slow count.

FH: I'd agree with him...even if he was wrong.  It's just safer that
way.

[Manson, still kneeling...simply wraps a gloved hand around Knight's
throat and begins to choke him as the official starts the count,
getting to 4 1/2.]

FH: That count was WAY faster than the cover...

CL: That move was ILLEGAL Fred!

FH: Excuses, excuses.

[Manson spits on Knight in disgust, then moves to the
turnbuckle...climbs to the top and leaps...]

CL: MY word!

FH: He's going for the flying headbutt...

...

CL: Knight moved!  Knight rolled out of the way!

FH: He's gonna be one of those guys, isn't he?  The kind that refuse
to stay dead when they should.

...

Yeah...I sorta hate him already.

[Knight pulls himself slowly to his feet as Manson gasps for breath on
the apron...then hauls the former Widowmaker up by the hair...and
PLANTS him with a short arm clothesline...and immediately goes to the
ropes and leaps...hitting a big splash on the prone Misery Machine.]

[POP!]

CL: Knight is getting a head of steam now and starting to show this
PVW crowd what he's made of.

FH: If Manson has his way, he'll show 'em what Knight's made of
too...he'll spray it all over the first four rows.

[Knight pops back up to his feet and hoists Manson up once
again...lifting for a vertical suplex...pausing at the top
for a ten count...then dropping him hard to the apron.]


"___THUUUUUUUUD___"


[POP!]

CL: BIG Suplex from Knight and now Manson's in serious trouble!  These
two hasn't wasted _any_ time.  High impact move after high impact
move.

FH: It's statement time here in the PVW.

[Knight rolls over, firing a couple of hard punches into Manson's
forehead before picking the big man up...and POWERING him up over his
head into a military press!]

FH: Holy crap.

CL: Look at that POWER!  He got nearly 300 pounds up and over his
head...and then smashed him to the apron with a Military Press slam!

[Manson is on the apron writing as Knight stalks him...waiting for him
to come to his feet...]

CL: Looks like Knight's getting ready to go for one of his patented
DDT's here, Fred...

FH: Look out...business is picking up!

[Behind Knight, a dreadlocked figure hops the railing and makes a bee
line for the time keeper's table, scooping up the ring bell before
rolling in behind him and BLASTING him in the back of the head!]


"___CLAAAAAANNNNNG___"


[ROARING BOO'S]

FH: (laughing) Well...normally they'd ring the bell now...but The
Spectre just stole in and used it to ring Knight instead!

CL: You think that's funny?  That's disgusting!

FH: ...Yeah...I think I sorta do...

*DING*DING*DING*

CL: The referee is calling for the bell, but that never stops Spectre.

FH: That usually means keep going in Spectre talk.

[Spectre wastes no time, picking the highly dazed Knight up, looking
around, then synching him in...hooking his leg and PLANTING him with a
Rebirth in the middle of the ring.]


"___THUUUUUUUD___"


[HORRORFYING FINISHER POP!]


CL: NO!  NO...my GOD, he just crushed Knight with that damned Rebirth,
Fred!  Knight's down and not moving.

FH: After taking an impact like that, no one does...only Rob Cole's
ever kicked out of it, and that was after a thirty second delay before
Spectre covered him...

CL: This is a disgrace.  Sammy Knight and Marcus Manson were having
one heck of a match and then The Spectre made his way down to feed off
the emotion and chaos.

FH: It was nice meeting you Sammy ... Perhaps you should go back to
retirement!

[Spectre stands over Knight as the boos cascade down from the crowd,
absorbing the crowd's reaction with a slight smile on his pale
face...only to be spun around by Marcus Manson, who puts a finger his
face and starts chewing into him about messing up his match.]


[WHOA ... POP!]


FH: Manson might be showing more guts than common sense here...he's
already been in a fight for the last eight minutes...

[Spectre looks down at the finger poking him in the chest...then up at
Manson...then begins to turn to walk away without saying a word.  That
doesn't sit well with Manson, who slaps the taste out of Spectre's
mouth!]


"___TWAAAAAAAAAP___"



[HOLY CRAP POP!]


CL: OH MY!  Manson is NOT taking this passively!

FH: I think we're about to see World War 3...

[Spectre simply smiles at Manson as he continues to verbally lambaste
the lunatic goth...until, without warning, the dreadlocked madman
fires off a boot to Manson's mid section, doubling the big man over.
Spectre steps forward smoothly and hooks the leg and lifts...]

CL: REBIRTH!  REBIRTH!  REBIRTH ON MANSON!


"___THHHHUUUUUUUDDDD___"



[SHOCKING POP!]



FH: It's carnage in there!  It's like a bomb went off.  Knight's laid
out...Manson's laid out...the official got the hell out of there...and
security is storming the ring and dog-piling The Spectre!

CL: I ... I ... I don't know what to say, Fred.  Let's just go to the
back while we try to make sense of this all.

FH: What sense do you need, Chip?  Spectre just welcomed Sammy Knight
to the PVW!

[Cut to the locker room, where we find PVW Television Champion "Bad
Wolf" Christopher Black, lounging in a steel chair.  He still wears
his battered black leather jacket, jeans and Doc Martens, but he now
has a new edition to his usual ensemble with the gold Television belt
draped over his left shoulder.  Standing off to the side as always is
his financial advisor Jacob Rose, who is wearing an impeccably
tailored navy blue pinstripe suit, grey tie and a small frown.

But there's no such frown on the Bad Wolf's face.  Instead, Black's
expression can be described as cold triumph.]

CB:  How did it feel, Sin?  Ya came lumberin' for one more lost an'
wounded lamb.  Ya HAD in to be the big hero.  Ya thought you could
take down the Bad Wolf?

You thought wrong.

[A familiar throaty chuckle escapes Black as a sneer crosses his
face.]

CB:  So how did it feel, mate?  How did it feel to be shown for the
utterly useless sack o' fat [bleep] ya really are?!  [The Wolf's sneer
gets wider]  Better yet, how did it _taste_?  Chokin' on ashes an'
bile...you're NEVER gonna get it out o' your mouth!

Now the Bad Wolf, he knows the taste o' victory.  All hot an' wild!
[Black's fingers drum against the leather strap of the TV title belt]
But it's only gotten him hungrier.  An' PVW's gone an' forgotten it's
feedin' time for the Wolf....

[Black's teeth are bared in a slight snarl as his icy blue eyes
narrow.]

CB:  No proper tribute for your new Champ then, mate?  Or are ya all
too busy wringin' your limp hands at what the Wolf did to the bleedin'
Mexican?  [Behind him, a worried look flits across Jacob's face, but
Black just grows more angry]  When a damn crawlin' corpse gets a match
over the Wolf -- even if it is against a paper tiger like that yob
Cole...

[His voice trails off.  A cold grin then spreads across Black's face
as he grips the belt tightly.]

CB:  ...well, it just makes the Bad Wolf want to go huntin' again...

[We fade back to ring side ...  The ring has been cleared.  We can
only assume Sammy Knight and Marcus Manson have returned to the back.]

 #HERE COMES THE RAIN!#

["Rain Wizard" by Black Stone Cherry blasts over the PA and a suited
man with a dustmop of salt and cheyenne-pepper-red hair with matching
Grizzly Adams beard emerges from the entrance portal.]

CL: Chilling words by our TV Champion .... Folks, Sammy Knight made it
to the back on his own two feet.  He gave a nice wave to the crowd and
he looks like he will okay.  And here comes Broderick Ezekiel Craven
with his ever-present briefcase.

FH: Oh yeah, Zeke is in da house! I wonder if he brought me a present
in that briefcase!

CL: Why would he... you know what, nevermind. Zeke, as PVW fans know,
is the long time manager of the long-reigning Tag Team champions,
Livestock and the Gutch.

FH: When you add up the reigns and they're 2.5 times champs!

CL: 2.5? Are you serious?

FH: Yeah! Livestock and the Gutch, one time, Livestock and Ohno, twice
for Livestock, L&G again and Livestock has three, Gutch has two.

CL: That's the extent of your math knowledge isn't it?

FH: And yet I'm a successful professional broadcaster with a nine-
inch--

CL: Whoa!

FH: What? Gold statue. You know? An Emmy?

CL: When did you win an Emmy!?

FH: I didn't say I won it. I just said that I have it. Johnny Detson
gave me one of his many, many Emmys... and half his Tonys!

[Reaching the ring, Zeke climbs the ringsteps and hops over the top
(~!) rope in a rarely-seen show of athletecism from the long retired
high-flyer.]

Zeke: So a funny thing happened on the way to End Game; I sold PVW Tag
Team Champions Livestock and the Gutch's contracts to Todd Johnstone.
ZAP~! Okay, maybe that isn't so funny... But hey, just for Shoots and
Googles (copyright 2011 Google inc) why don't we bring Todd out and
maybe the humor will flow. Todd?

[From the backstage area emerges the "Manager of Miscreants" himself,
Todd "The Rod" Johnstone. The jowly Johnstone is wearing a three piece
suit that is made up multi-colored triangles on a concrete gray
background. Todd's tie is pus white and Todd's shirt is mucus green
with his brown belt from Sears around his waist (SEARS POWER~!) Todd
gets winded climbing the ring steps but manages to get his girth into
the squared circle. Todd has a classic burlap bag in his left hand
(complete with green dollar sign) and his dark black cane in his
right.]

Todd: Hello, Zeke and I hope you poor little plebes in the audience.

Zeke: Now, now Todd let's not speak ill of the fans. After all, since
they've been here, over half of them have had their homes foreclosed
because they spent their pay for the month on a pro wrestling ticket.
The other half? Already homeless. ZING~!

Todd: And people wonder how PVW has gone bankrupt twice. I digress; it
is true that Zeke has sold the contract of PVW's greatest tag team
ever to me, Todd Johnstone. Just to rub it in you homeless, toothless,
foul smelling, nose picking peons, I have brought a sack of money to
the ring!

Zeke: Wow, that's a lot of adjectives Todd. All of them true, but
still, a lot.

Todd: Trust me, I could go on but I don't want to waste more air on
these "people", and I use the term people as loosely as their mothers
are described. So, to rub in just how much Livestock and Gutch are
worth, and just how much money we make, Zeke and I figured we could
make the exchange in public. I agreed, mainly to show all you greasy
wage slaves that your 50 dollar a week paychecks are pathetic.

Zeke: So, how much is a soul worth? Turns out it's only about five-
hundred grand. Not my soul, mind you, mine's worth a lot more. And
there are two of them, so it's actually a cool mill. Hey, I know, hold
on, you people probably don't know what I mean. How could you possibly
have a point of reference for what a million dollars looks like?

[The fans boo lustily what looks more and more to be a carefully
choreographed mockery of everything about the public at large. Todd
unceremoniously dumps out 10 stacks of bills... not too impressive and
boos cascade down.]

Todd: Ha! You idiots think a million dollars looks impressive; here's
the reality. This is what a million dollar looks like. If you were
like Zeke and I, buying and selling people for hundreds of millions
countless times each day, you'd know this, morons!

Zeke: Toddy? Todd, you were supposed to dump it in the briefcase.
Neither one of us looks good picking this up off the mat.

Todd: Oh, don't worry about picking that up. How about I just give you
another form of payment; you know, the kind that real people with real
money give to one another!

[Todd pulls out an envelope and presses it into Zeke's hand.]

Todd: Now, tell our "fans" how many zeroes are on that check.

Zeke: The same number of toes these mutants all have on their left
feet; six.

Todd: Hey, you, ring attendant, come in here and pick up this cash. Do
a good job and you could get a tip!

[Dutifully the blue-collar worker rolls into the ring and snatches up
the bundles of cash, handing them back to Todd.]

Zeke: Here's your tip; get a better job.

Todd: No, no, he earned something for that errand.

*SLAP!*

[MONEY SLAP!]

Todd: Get out of here you sack of hot garbage! you're smelling up my
ring!

[Deciding the single bundle of bills isn't doing enough damage, Todd
dumps the money back in his burlap sack, and swings it, hitting the
attendant as he leaps from the ring.]

Zeke: Not damaging, but still, very entertaining. Okay, so this is my
goodbye ... and thanks for all the fish. You see, Broderick Ezekiel
Craven ... IS BACK ON THE CHAMPIONSHIP COMMITTEE!

[Heel pop! What the heck is up with this, right?]

Zeke: And while it's not a voting position it does put my foot in the
door. Now, Todd, before we go ... can I see that bag of money? I never
got to whack that guy and it looks like a blast.

[Cackling, both men leave the ring as Zeke starts swinging the bag
experimentally. Seeing the money beating coming, the ring attendant
runs to the back as we cut to the announce table.]

CL: ...

FH: Zeke always finding himself a spot to make an impact!

CL: What the heck did we just see ...

FH: Todd and Zeke partying like it's 1985 baby!

CL: ...

FH: I guess those answers to questions you were talking about are
starting to fall in place.  We now understand the relationship of
Hayes and Livestock and the Gutch.

CL: I don't know about answers.  Some how I think more questions just
popped up out of that.  Thankfully the Voice is inside the ring.

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

(stop the man)
From ending' up with all the chips so he can't
(promise him an only chance)
To have the freedom that's been taking' 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 ramp way 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.]

CL: Larry Gionet has made a statement after turning his back against
his friends and standing alone in the PVW.

FH: Sometimes friends just hold you back.

["Schism" by Tool blasts over the PA as the fans go crazy.  The 6'11 /
300 pound Chi-Town beast begins to head down the ring side.  The fans
go nuts for Papa-Sin as he takes time out to shake as many hands as
possible as he makes his way to the ring.]

CL: This is going to be one exiting match, with the history these two
have.  Gionet is going to be out for revenge, having lost his TV title
that quickly!

FH: I can't wait to see Gionet wipe the mat with Sinister! This is
going to be sweet!

=========================================

PVW - HEATWAVE - ONE ON ONE MATCH
Larry Gionet v. Sinister

=========================================


*DING*DING*DING*


[The bell rings, as Sinister and Gionet meet dead center in the ring,
jaws flapping away, hurling insults only audible to those in the first
few rows.  The end result being Gionet shaking his head, and without
hesitation, stomps on Sinister foot and launches a stiff right hand
right onto Sinister's jaw.  Sinister stumbles back, as Gionet Irish
whips him into the ropes, proceeding with a spinning back fist to give
Gionet the early advantage!]

FH: That's it Gionet, Take it right to him! Show no fear!

CL: Gionet certainly storming out of the gate here, but he's still
unable to take the nearly seven foot Sinister off his feet! Gionet
tries to stay on the attack but Sinister's fighting back!

FH: Gionet'll get him, don't you worry!

[Sinister proceeds nail a few stiff kicks to Gionet's midsection,
getting Gionet stumbling back as Sinister grips him up and takes him
down with a falling arm breaker! Before Gionet can get up, Sinister
connects with a knee drop to Gionet's arm! Quickly he follows up with
one to his leg, then his other arm, and attempts another one before
Gionet finally rolls away! Gionet kips up, and charges at Sinister!]

FH: Here we go! Gionet with the spear, finally taking Sinister off his
feet!

CL: Gionet just vicious with those rights and lefts, but I doubt
Sinister's going to put up with this for long!

FH: Sinister can be beaten, it was proven at End Game!

[Sinister isn't the one to end the onslaught of punches, Gionet is as
he rises to his feet, choosing to instead lay a few boots onto
Sinister before locking on a Indian death lock, really putting the
hurt on Sinister in the early goings!]

FH: Told ya, Chip! Look at Sinister writhing in pain! Beautiful isn't
it?

CL: You are right, Sinister is certainly in pain, but he is also
desperately trying to break this hold!

FH: He'll only break it if Gionet lets him break it! With the attack
early, if Gionet keeps this up, Sinister won't last very long at all!

CL: And I bet that's exactly what Christopher Black wants to him! I
bet he's back there enjoying this right now!

FH: Why wouldn't he be? This is WONDERFUL!

[But the wonderfulness ends, as Sinister finally crawls his way to the
ropes, forcing the break.  For good measure, Gionet waits until the
last possible second to let go.  Sinister rolls out of the ring,
trying to gather himself.  Gionet elects not to take any chances and
decides to stop Sinister's recovery.  he slides out of the ring, and
goes on the attack only to be meet with rights and lefts by Sinister,
followed with a quick Irish whip....


"THUD!"


...Gionet slams right into the steps, much to the delight of the PVW
faithful! Sinister stays on the attack, slamming Gionet's head off the
ring post!  And Sinister _still_ doesn't let up, gripping up Gionet
and connecting with a beautiful spinning spine buster on the floor!]

CL: The crowd is just going nuts here! They are loving this!

FH: Gionet's PVW's Warrior, this will barely faze him!

CL: Sinister back into the ring, breaking the count as the ref reaches
four! He climbs a few turnbuckles, getting the crowd riled up even
more, as Gionet stirs on the outside making his way to his knees!

FH: Gionet's gathering himself here, Sinister better watch out!

[Knowing his way around the ring, Sinister turns his attention back to
Gionet, who makes his way to the apron! Sinister beckons Gionet to get
into the ring, and as if on cue, Gionet rolls himself in.  Sinister
even lets Gionet get to his feet, before moving in on the attack!]

FH: Stupid move by Sinister! Should never of let Gionet get back to
his feet like that!

CL: Perhaps you right for once Fred, as Sinister moved onto only to be
caught with a thumb to the eyes, and then to have his face dragged
along that top rope!

[Gionet's continues his assault, changing from scraping Sinister's
face across the top rope to slamming his face right off the
turnbuckle! One after another after another until Sinister is clearly
dazed, which prompts Gionet to change tactics, choosing to pick the
Chi-Town Beast up in a Fireman's Carry!]

FH: That is _impressive_ there, Chip! Sinister's three hundred pounds!

CL: Again, you are right, Fred! Stop it, you're scaring me!

[Feeling the weight, Gionet stops showboating his mighty strength and
drops Sinister with a gutbsuter drop!  Sinister sits up, and Gionet
smiles, taking full advantage! With a bit of a running start, Gionet
connects with a nasty Yakuza kick to Sinister's face!  Sensing
opportunity, Gionet goes for the cover!]

FH: Let's see if he can end it here!




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!



CL: Not even a two, as Sinister powers out! He's certainly got
something left in the tank!

[Not fazed, Gionet rises with Sinister and whips him into the ropes.
Gionet goes for a clothesline, but Sinister reverses it, sliding
behind Gionet only to execute a textbook belly-to-back suplex! Gionet
slams into the mat, as the crowd cheers Sinister on! Both men are
dazed, but Sinister's the first to rise!]

CL: Momentum might be changing here!

FH: It won't last! Gionet's got a entire bag of tricks!

CL: And Sinister _doesn't_?

[Gionet gets to his feet, only to be met with a few elbow shots, as
again Sinister grips Gionet up and chooses to display his strength,
holding the PVW Warrior straight up in the air with a delayed vertical
suplex.  Sinister even plays to the crowd a bit, waiting for them to
hit a certain volume before dropping Gionet hard to the mat! Knowing
the effect of being upside down that long, Sinister goes for the pin!]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!



[Gionet kicks out.]

CL: Two count for Sinister, Gionet's not done yet!

FH: By no means is Gionet even close to being done!

[Sinister doesn't let up, not letting Gionet to his feet, choosing
instead to pinch the nerves on Gionet's neck! Gionet spasms with the
pain  caused by the pressure point submission hold! But the shock
wears off, and Gionet lays into Sinister with a few stiff elbow shots!
Sinister lets go of the hold, and goes to tie up Gionet!]

FH: FISH HOOK OF DOOM! FISH HOOK OF DOOM!

CL: Gionet dragging Sinister to the mat! The PVW fans letting Gionet
know what they think of this move!

FH: Doesn't matter what they think, what matters is results! And the
fish hook worked! Gionet got Sinister down to the mat, and now
Sinister locked up in that body scissors combined with a muta lock!

CL: Despite his size and strength, Sinister's really in a predicament
here! Remember, with Black's...

FH: That's right! Sinister's ribs are already hurting him! This is
perfect! The more Gionet squeezes, the more pain Sinister suffers! I
love it!

CL You would, Fred! You would! Worst of all, Sinister's stuck right in
the middle of the ring! No crawling to the ropes this time!

FH: And I doubt he can power out of this one,I really do!

CL: I dunno, Fred... These PVW faithful are getting on their feet,
letting Sinister know they haven't given up hope! perhaps Sinister can
feed off that energy...

FH: Keep dreaming, Chip! The lights are dimming for the Chi-Town
Beast!

CL: NOT SO FAST FRED!!!

[With the PVW faithful chanting "SIN-NA-STER! SIN-NA-STER! SIN-NA-
STER!", Sinister begins to fight his away outta this hold.  He bucks,
he pulls, he lets out a primal scream and finally breaks the lock!
Both men scramble to their feet, only to have Sinister nail Gionet
with a nasty head butt! Sinister follows with another, backing Gionet
into the corner!]

CL: CHAMBER KICK OF AGONY! The crowd counts along, as Sinister moves
from kicking Gionet's knees to his midsection, and there's the shot
bot the forehead!

FH: Oh, Gionet! Come on! Don't let this match slip away!

CL: Slip away it is, Fred! Sinister seizing the moment, and driving
Gionet's head into the mat with a T-Bone DDT!  Pin attempt!




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!



[NO! Gionet's shoulder up at last minute!]

CL: That was close there! Sinister almost had him!

FH: Gionet's just playing possum! You wait and see!

[Sinister shows signs of being just a little frustrated, but continues
on the attack, choosing to go for a Fujiwara arm bar.  Sinister almost
has it locked on, as Gionet just lays right into Sinister's ribs.
Heavy lefts and rights cause Sinister to give up on the arm bar, and
try to scramble to his feet.  Gionet, from laying down, performs what
would be called a sitting dropkick right to the back of Sinister's
legs!]

FH: Now that's inventive AND effective!

CL: Sinister down, as Gionet's to his feet! He's just stomping the
hell out of Sinister, yelling at him to boot!

FH: I am liking this new direction Gionet's headed in!

CL: Sinister just grabs Gionet's boot and pulls his legs out from
under him!  The crowd is really trying to give Sinister some needed
motivation here!

FH: Fools! Gionet's got this in the bag!

[Both men get to their feet, certainly slower than when they started
this match.  They trade lefts and rights, and Sinister even connects
with another head butt.  Gionet shakes its off, and decides its time
to whip Sinister into the ropes.  Sinister comes running  back....

CL: TILT-TA-WHIRL RIB BREAKER!!!!

FH: That's _IT_! Look at Sinister cry out in pain!

CL: The fans are letting Gionet have it, as he hooks the leg!




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!



[SHOCKING HE GOT A SHOULDER UP POP!!!]



CL: SOME HOW SINISTER GOT A SHOULDER UP!

FH: That just didn't happen.


SIN-DADDY !!!   SIN-DADDY !!!   SIN-DADDY !!!   SIN-DADDY !!!


SIN-DADDY !!!   SIN-DADDY !!!   SIN-DADDY !!!   SIN-DADDY !!!


SIN-DADDY !!!   SIN-DADDY !!!   SIN-DADDY !!!   SIN-DADDY !!!


CL: The fans are getting behind, Big Daddy Sin now.  He has shown
signs of that earlier onslaught by The Biz.  This isn't the Sin we are
used to seeing out here.

FH: Maybe he is just getting washed up like the Biz said.

[Gionet pulls Sinister up who is holding onto that exposed rib-cage
area.  Gionet drives a close range knee forward ... He lifts another
driving it forward.  He goes to whip the Chi-town beast into the
ropes, but Sinister reversed it and caught Gionet with a death valley
driver!]


THUUUUUUUD!!!!


[POP!]


CL: SINISTER WITH A DVD AND HE IS UP ON HIS FEET!

[Sinister is up and stumbles backwards slowly rubbing the back of his
head as if signs of those stiff brutal kicks earlier are taking place.
He lets out a loud growl and as Gionet makes it to his feet he charges
with a lariat ... Gionet ducks it just in time and kicks the big man
in the ribs dropping him down to one knee .... Gionet hits the ropes
and leaps into a Shining Wizard and crashes into the side of
Sinister's head!]


"___CRAAAAAACK____"


[CONCERNED SIGH'S]


FH: That is going to leave a mark.

CL: Sinister has just crumbled like a ton of bricks and Gionet drops
down hooking a leg!




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!



[DING, DING, DING!]


CL: Gionet did it! He picks up the victory here!

FH: Just like I knew he would! And to add insult to injury, I bet he
just killed a few brain cells with that.

CL: It is very possible, Fred, considering the hellacious beating
Sinister took earlier in the evening!

HD: The winner of the match, LARRY GIONET!

[BOO's]

CL: Larry Gionet just evened the score with Sinister.  However both
men have other things to deal with right now.  Sinister is going to
owe, Mike Bisignano some retribution.

FH: He may be sharing a hospital room with, Tommy Ryder.

CL: That's not even funny, Fred.  Joining us right now from his home
by satellite is that man, "Hellraiser"

Tom Landis.  Tom, can you hear me?

[The announcers are placed into a split screen, with the other side
revealing Tom Landis seated at what appears to be a home office.
Behind him on the wall are several championship belts encased in
glass, and a large banner with "ACW" written on it.  Tom's wearing a
PVW t-shirt, and also noticeable is the fact that his arm is in a
sling.  A Chicago Bulls cap is worn backwards on his head, and he's
got a few days growth of stubble.]

TL: Hey Chip, I can hear you fine.

CL: Tom, how are you feeling after the injuries you sustained at End
Game?

TL: Well as you can see [gestures to the sling] my shoulder's pretty
messed up.  I'll spare you the gory details but there was some
ligament and muscle damage done by my dear brother in law.  All in
all, the shoulder wasn't broken so I actually got off easier than some
of his other victims.

CL: Does it look like there'll be any long-term damage, or can you
resume your in-ring career?

TL: What I've been told is the prognosis looks good for the future.
Without a break the rehab should be cut down by quite a bit, it's just
a matter of waiting for everything to settle and heal itself.  A fact
I remind myself every day, and makes me just a little more
appreciative of my wife for not letting me try and tough it out in
Phoenix, which probably would have ended my career.

CL: So you don't have any regrets?

TL: I'm always going to regret not speaking my mind any sooner to
Emily, but as far as what happened in that ring, no.  I'd still rather
be able to play tea with my daughter than say I crippled myself but
hey, still got the job done.  Perry won the match, but from what I saw
on Showcase he's a lot closer to losing the war.

FH: Just one question from me Landis.  How can you desert your poor
sister like that?  You're proving Perry was right about you.

TL: Emily's a big girl, Hoyle.  She's not seeing her husband with
blinders on anymore, she knows exactly what he's capable of thanks to
putting her in between us during the towel match.  As far as deserting
her goes, I fought and fought for her and it didn't get me anywhere.
The ball is in her court, but I'm through chasing her and trying to
make her decisions for her.

CL: One final question Tom, do you have any sort of timeline for a
return to the ring?

[Tom sighs.]

TL: I wish I could give you an answer on that, Chip.  Best guess is
just to keep watching, I'll be back soon.  In the meantime, there's a
few young guns in that PVW locker room who I have my eye on.  This is
one hell of a talented roster, a roster I'm proud to say I still
belong to.

CL: Thanks Tom, get better soon.

TL: Thanks Chip, see ya.

[The feed cuts.]

FH: Dangit!

CL: What's wrong?

FH: Perry didn't snap his arm off.  I was really looking forward to
hearing that Tom Landis was done due to the deadly and unforgiving,
Amputation!

CL: Fred!

FH: What?  I can't help that I wanted to hear that Tom Landis arm went
snap, crackle, and pop!

CL: Oh my ... Well I for one am glad to hear that Tom Landis will be
back in action here in the PVW.

FH: You would!

#I'm over it!#

*BOOM!*

["Forsaken" by David Draiman plays as a figure in a sleevleess, hooded
robe emerges from the back amid a shower of blood-red sparks.]

CL: There's his music and listen to that crowd boo as the green-
skinned goliath known as William Craven enters the arena.

FH: That's "Hell on Earth" William Craven, Chip.

CL: That's the nickname he's taken for himself, yes.

FH: No, Rob Cole gave him the name.

[Rolling into the ring, Craven already has a microphone and, tossing
his head back shakes the hood back from his bald, green head.]

WC: If I may...

[His brow furrowing, Craven laughs at the jeers from the crowd.]

WC: At End Game II, Robert Cole--

[Face pop!]

WC: --and myself faced off in what must have been our fifth match in
PVW.  Spurred on by perceived attacks by myself on his family, Robert
fought with all he's worth and, once again, he came up short.

[Heel pop!  Craven isn't shaken by this and chooses to engage the
crowd directly.]

WC: I know, I know.  You're all fooled by his dutiful family man
facade ... and I forgive you for this.  Cole, by all accounts, feels
encouraged by what he considers to be his psychological advantage,
having not, at any point, given up the ghost to my onslaught.

Clearly, however, our war is not over.  Nor can it be until--

["Ratamahatta" by Sepultura plays.  Craven looks up the aisle, curious
at this interruption.  He doesn't wait long.]

RC: You're sick, Bill.

[Tribal drums echo throughout the arena as William Craven stares up
the aisle, awaiting the arrival of his Endgame opponent. The guitars
begin to blare as Rob Cole finally walks out into the entrance ramp,
staring daggers up at William Craven as he shakes his head in disgust.
Craven smiles and motions for Cole to come a little further but his
victim only stands center and waits. The two men just stare as the
music slowly dies down and a ring technician brings a microphone to
the former World Champion. Rob Cole stares at the man. He slowly lifts
the microphone.]

RC: Your son is ... when you were a little boy, when you were small
and helpless; your father took a bat to your body and proceeded to
give you a severe beating that has haunted you for your entire life,
Bill.

[Craven's lip curls as he scowls down at his quarry.]

WC: And?  My history is public knowledge; old story--

[Holding up a hand, Cole calls for silence from his foil.  Staring
down quizzically, Craven complies.]

RC: All you wanted was a Louisville and that monster did a horrible
thing to you... and a few weeks ago, you told the entire world that
your son wanted to be a professional wrestler. You have hounded and
harassed me for months... you dragged my family into this mess ... and
then you talked about your own family and dropped all these little
hints on where they'd be, what they would be doing. Why?

[Chuckling, Bill rubs his face, stepping back, turning and leaning his
side on a turnbuckle.]

WC: Aheh, oh, oh what is this now?  Oh Robert.  I guess I just leaked
some intel on myself.  Whoopsie.  How awful.  Do go on.  Please, what
other errors have I made?

[Rob Cole takes a deep breath and shakes his head in disgust.]

RC: You see, Bill ... I got the message.  And I could've done the
thing you wanted me to do ... give you a reason to really hate me, a
reason to build the drama, and I could have walked out here with blood
on my hands and hate in my heart and I could have been the same kind
of monster that you are.

[Craven's shark-toothed grin vanishes.]

RC: It's what you wanted. "It gets worse." But the idea of it; the
thought of what you wanted me to do? 'I've done terrible things in
this business...  'I've hurt all sorts of people to get at my
opponent, but 'I've never gone after someones' kid.  Do you know how
sick that really is?!?!!

I'm never going to be like you, Bill.  And I saw what that
meant to you during End Game...  I saw what it meant to you when I
kept getting up, when I wouldn't stay down, when someone who could
feel ...

FEEL!!!

[Cole suddenly NAILS his own face with a punch!  Another punch!
Another and another.  He busts him open, above the brow, reopening
cuts and damaging already bruised features as he staggers down the
aisle.]

RC: You can't feel it!!!  YOU don't EVER FEEL ANYTHING!!!  And I saw
what it meant to you ... to hurt someone, to break them down, to have
them at your feet and at your mercy ... I saw what it meant to you and
I saw what it did to you when I stood up again.  And again.  And
again. Every time I stood up, there was a little flinch ... and, yeah,
"it got worse". I saw you tremble and I saw you filled with so much
hate and I felt...

I FELT...

I COULD FEEL ... every punch, every time my body hit the mat, every
time you hit me or twisted a limb ... I could feel it. And when you
put me to the mat one last time ... when you knelt down and you
grabbed those ropes, when you held on with all your strength and your
mind prayed that I couldn't put my shoulder up again: THAT WAS IT!!!!
That was your secret secret shame, above and beyond twisted act of
violence ... you couldn't believe that I would keep getting up and
standing. You can't comprehend it!

[Cole smiles now, blood flowing from his open wound as he continues to
walk down the aisle.  He stops in front of the ring, watching Bill as
the man just stops smiling.  There's real hatred there, between the
two men.]

RC: I'm still standing ... broken, beaten, and bloodied.  I'm still
able to walk down this aisle, still able to stare you in the eyes, and
I know precisely what I am to you.  I said it all the time, it became
a catch-phrase, and eventually it became a dang chain around my
neck... but I really AM the monster beneath your bed.

I'm the reminder of everything you don't have; I'm the reflection of
the better you that could never be, no matter how much these people
cheered or jeered. I have held titles.  I have a family.  And I have
stood up, time and again, when the whole world thought I should lie
down.  I don't need to be a freak to have that kind of courage ... I
don't need to paint my body, file my teeth, and I don't need childhood
nerve damage to defy my body.  And, the worst part of all of it ... I
can /feel/ every joy, every sorrow, every touch, and every pain like a
real human boy.  And here you are ... stuck in this framework toy
construction body, unable to feel anything.  you're not even real.

[Cole begins to walk up the steps and pauses at the ring post.  He
falls silent a moment, watching Bill as the larger man continues to
boil over.  He lifts the microphone again.]

RC: You wanted me to hurt your son? You wanted me to walk into that
school ... to take a ... a baseball bat to the back of his head?  You
wanted me to brutalize your boy.  That's the kind of man you are,
Bill. You might try to hide it, you might try to justify the direction
you've taken your life, but you're really just one thing. You /are/
William Craven ... the second. You are your father's child ... the
abuser, the monster, the sick and twisted thing who would cross that
last and final line in the realm of human decency. you're a mad dog
... you need to be put down, William.

[And now Cole steps between the ropes. He steps forward even as
security begins to rush down the aisle as the two brawlers stare
across the ring at one another.  Breathing deeply, much to the
surprise of everyone in attendance, Bill allows himself to be pressed
into the corner by half a dozen security guards as Cole wildly presses
against them and towards his quarry.  Yes, rather than struggle,
Craven lifts his microphone and speaks once again, a numb, dead look
in his ice blue eyes.]

WC: You never stop speaking, do you?

[Heel pop!  A spark of life returns to the green man's stunned face.]

WC: I'm not real?  Y-you don't even know what real is, Robert!  So I
failed to crush you utterly one time, ONE TIME!  One time of how many?
Are you revitalized in your ability to withstand?  To persevere?

[Locking eyes with Cole, Craven's eyes tear up, a common occurrence in
years past but much rarer today.  The "Outcast" ceases to press,
somehow enraptured by the man he now hates.]

WC: I do care.  I care too much.  My Lydia, she sent me away and my
boy ... your protestations prove more threatening by implication than
anything you could express, Robert!  What do you imply!?

[Baring his sharpened teeth and licking his lips with his split
tongue, Craven seems fit to be tied.]

WC: You know the surface but not the man.  I didn't choose to be what
I am, how I look, none of it.  You?  You've changed your spots so many
times the ink is starting to run.  One day you're calling for the
people to cheer, the next, you're taking from this industry true gems.
What replaces those gems, Robert?  You?  You are alchemy; lead made to
look like gold ... but beneath the surface lies deadly poison!

[If eyes could breathe fire those eyes would be Rob Cole's right now.]

WC: Poison that runs in the veins of the industry I love, the angel on
my shoulder tells me so, whispering into my half-eaten left ear.
Those whispers are of a scenario in a man who clings to contender-ship
for the World Title by any means necessary, dragging PVW down with his
career all in the name of his precious family.  That man is you,
Robert, and for my beloved industry to survive--

--you must be _ERASED_!

[Dropping the microphone, Craven unslings the wooden sword tucked away
inside his robe and begins liberally whacking away.  Cole surges anew
and PVW's security force is rapidly whittled away between them.]

CL: WHOA!  Listen to these fans roar.  Rob Cole and William Craven is
far from over, Fred.

FH: Of course it is.  There aren't anyone crazy enough to mix it up
with these two.  So might as well tear one another apart.

CL: Rob Cole got under the skin of William Craven with some of those
comments.  You can tell those hit a nerve with the green skinned
freak.

FH: That's the last thing Cole want's to do.  Don't ever make things
personal with, William Craven.

CL: Craven already made them _personal_ with Rob Cole.

FH: Look at William Craven ... There isn't anything that Rob Cole can
do to him.

CL: It took an unorthodox method for William Craven to beat Rob Cole
at End Game.  Either way both men have made it to the back and, The
Voice is headed to the ring!

[The sound of reverbed sirens is heard as a voice sings...]

VOICE:  It's Automatic, don't mind the static.

[As the word "static" echoes, purple and gold laser lights begin to
fill the arena as the voice of Toby Mac is heard again, as the music
ramps up in speed and beat, singing his hit song "Showstopper"]

#So turn up the lights#
#Pass me the mic#
#Bring on the lights#
#They've been waiting all night for the...#

***BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!*******

[A MASSIVE explosion hits as the big screen lights up and shows the
following words switching back and forth between purple background and
gold letters and gold background with purple letters...


               "S H O W S T O P P E R"

                      T Y S O N

                       C A I N


[The song's chorus kicks in...]

#The showstopper#
#The chart dropper#
#The big papa#
#We gonna get it, get it, what?#
#We gonna get it good#

[The second verse of "Showstopper" begins to be heard as Cain walks
out from behind the curtain. Tyson is wearing his purple tights that
now have gold crosses on the legs. The word "Showstopper" in gold
cursive on his rear end. Tyson's hair is slicked back as he smirks a
cocky grin. Tyson shakes a little in anticipation and starts walking
down the aisle. Cain yells and taunts a few hands of fans as he makes
his way down.]

#Hope just broke right through the door#
#So why you gotta ask what I came here for#
#Man, we 'bout to light the night with that flare#
#Drop from the gun and the hand need to spare#

[Cain reaches the entrance area and walks around the ring, continuing
to taunt fans. Tyson slides under the bottom rope and leaps to his
feet, spinning in a circle with his arms out wide to celebrate his
awesomeness.]

#With the kick so hard that you gotta be strong#
#So hot-ta, you can barely hold on#
#So rock me, drop me but you will never stop me#
#From taking this show to the full on monopoly#

[Cain stops spinning in the middle of the ring and drops into a
squatting position and flexes as the pyro explodes behind him on the
word "Showstopper."]

#The showstopper#
#The chart dropper#
#The big papa#
#We gonna get it what, what?#
#We gonna get it, we gonna get it good#

[As the music dies down, Cain removes his entrance wear and readies
himself in the corner for the start of the match.]


V/O: THERE'S NO PROMISE OF SAFETY!!!!!

[Smoke begins to fill the entrance of the PVW walkway as "The Melting
Point of Wax" by Thrice blasts through the arena at the maximum
possible volume]

"I've waited for this moment
All my life and more
And now I see so clearly
What I could not see before.
The time is now or never
This chance won't come again
Throw caution and myself into the wind"

[The tron begins to flash 'C R U I S E R W E I G H T I C O N' over and
over as the smoke coming up from the entrance ramp becomes heavier and
heavier, making it unable to see any sort of figure at all.]

*FLASH FLASH FLASH FLASH*

[The strobe lights go off on the stage until AsH stands in the smoke,
hands to the air with a MASSIVE smile on his face]

"There's no promise of safety
With these secondhand wings
But I'm willing to find out
What impossible means"

[AsH walks to the ring slapping hands of fans as he smiles and mugs to
the crowd.]

"A leap of faith"

[AsH carries on walking around the ring, slapping more hands, as he
plays to the crowd, while inside Cain is looking rather frustrated.]

"There's no promise of safety
With these secondhand wings

[A third lap around the ring, and AsH is clearly having fun here,
whereas Cain is pacing up and down looking keen to start.]

''But I'm willing to find out
What impossible means"

[AsH starts to walk up the ring steps, as Cain comes across to meet
him then changes his mind and jumps off, running to a little boy to
slap his hand.]

FH: You know why he's not getting in there, Chip? He's petrified!

CL: I think you'll find that AsH is just trying to give the fans what
they want, Freddie!

FH: They want a wrestling match, don't they?

[And they're about to get one ... AsH finally made it up the ringsteps
to the ring apron, and got dragged in by a furious Tyson Cain, who
pulls him over the ropes and immediately blasts away with a few kicks.
AsH fights his way up with a series of punches that leaves Cain slowed
down, though, and somewhere in there the bell rings to get us
officially underway.]

=========================================

PVW - HEATWAVE - ONE ON ONE MATCH
Tyson Cain v. AsH

=========================================


*DING*DING*DING*


CL: AsH sent to the ropes by Cain, but comes back with a leapfrog over
his opponent...

[He bounces off the ring ropes again, and hits a big dropkick on Tyson
Cain which has Cain staggering.]

CL: Arm drag takes Cain down! AsH has made a great start here, and
quickly goes to work on his opponent, dropping a couple of rapid fire
elbows to the bigger man's ribs!

FH: AsH is going up top now, and this is a mistake, in my opinion,
Lester! You never saw me do any of this stuff in my day.

CL: Things have changed in the last 30 years or so, Freddie! AsH
diving off the top with a splash ń nobody home!

FH: I told you it was a mistake, Chip!

CL: You certainly did, Freddie.

[Cain rolled out of the way and is up and blasts AsH with a couple of
kicks to the ribs as the smaller man is clearly feeling the pain of
that missed splash attempt. Picking him up, Cain takes the cruiser
down with a DDT and turns to smirk at the crowd.]

FH: Look at that, Lester! THIS is how it's meant to be for Cain!

CL: Indeed. You have to admit, Fred, that Tyson Cain's start here in
PVW has been a rather rocky one.

FH: Rocky? It's been flat-out insane, Chip! This guy is one of the
hottest prospects I've seen in years, and somehow he's struggled so
far. It's not meant to be like that, darn it ń but this is where it's
going to change!

[AsH to his feet now, though, and slides through Cain's legs as Cain
moves in on him. Cain turns around and charges at AsH, who sidesteps,
then waits for Cain move at him again.]

CL: Cain looking frustrated here, and he's backing AsH into the
corner... whoa!

[Great agility from AsH, as he turns around, leaps onto the ropes, and
flips off  with a picture perfect moonsault to go right over Tyson
Cain and land on his feet. Cain turns around and runs in at AsH, who
sidesteps once more.]

FH: What is this idiot doing? Doesn't he know you're meant to hit the
other guy!

CL: Well, Cain is clearly losing his cool here, and you have to think
that's the plan from the ring veteran AsH! Cain bouncing off the
ropes, AsH goes for a leapfrog... Cain catches him! But AsH going for
a sunset flip... No!

FH: Oh, mama! Look at that! See, AsH got overcomplicated there, went
for that sunset flip, and now he's at Cain's mercy!

[Cain is crouching down and hits a few hard right hands to the face,
then picks AsH up and flings him into the corner, causing him to hit
the turnbuckles hard.]

CL: AsH coming out hard, right into a running clothesline from Cain,
who follows that up with a quick knee, then climbs up to the second
rope!

[Second rope fistdrop from Cain, who pats himself on the back as the
crowd jeer.]

FH: Look at AsH run! He's had enough!

CL: I don't think so, somehow, Fred! AsH is rolling to the outside,
it's true, but I'm certain the Cruiserweight Icon's not running away
here!

[Indeed not. AsH hits the floor with Tyson sliding out after him, and
manages to get a hip toss which takes Cain down! A quick kick to the
head, and AsH pauses for a split second to high five another fan,
before leaping onto the apron...]

[HOLY SHIT POP!!!!]

CL: SPLIT LEGGED MOONSAULT! Look at that move!

[Picking his opponent up, AsH rolls him into the ring, then climbs up
to the top, coming off with a vicious double stomp which has Cain
clutching his stomach in pain.]

CL: AsH off the ropes, and as Cain tries to get to his feet, the Icon
hits a basement dropkick! He makes the cover!

COVER.... ONE!!!!!







TWO.....







KICKOUT!!!

FH: Cain taking his time, there, conserving his energy. I'm sure he
coulda kicked out on one if he wanted to.

CL: AsH with a couple of stomps to the knee, then gets Cain to his
feet, and sends him to the corner ń look who's running now!

FH: He's strategizing, Lester!

[Cain has slipped to the outside as AsH charges into follow him, and
he grabs the lighter man's ankles and pulls, holding one leg each side
of the ring post.]

FH: I love it!

[DON'T DO THAT'' SHOCKED POP!!!!]

CL: This... this isn't right!

FH: He's gonna do it....

[Cain is taunting the crowd here, shouting at them as he prepares to
send a sensitive part of AsH's anatomy hard into the ringpost. There's
a scream in the crowd, from a young girl in the second or third row
back, wearing an AsH T-shirt, as she begs Tyson not to do it...

and he shrugs his shoulders and lets go of AsH's ankles...]

[THANK GOD FOR THAT POP!!]

[... then picks them up again and yanks with all his might, slamming
AsH hard into the post, before turning around and waving sarcastically
to the now-crying girl.]

[YOU MADE SOME KID CRY POP!!!]

CL: Oh come on!

FH: This guy, Tyson Cain ń I keep telling you, Chip. He's going to go
FAR!

[Back in the ring, and Cain lifts AsH up, dropping him onto his knee
with a massive backbreaker and then getting up and slamming an elbow
down onto the cruiserweight's back.]

FH: Submission could be on here! AsH is lying flat on his stomach,
Cain can see the opportunity... LOCKDOWN! He's got it on!

[PLEASE DON'T TAP POP!!!]

CL: Well, Cain showing a bit of inexperience here, as he's got AsH
close to the ropes...

FH: So he can do this! Look at it, Chip!

[HEEL POP!!!!]

[Cain is leaning back and holding onto the ropes for extra leverage,
really pressuring AsH here, as the crowd go crazy at him. The ref
starts to count ... and Cain sarcastically counts along with him,
eventually breaking the hold just as the man in charge is about to
reach five.]

FH: See, Cain wasn't bothered about the submission ń he just wanted to
do some damage there, and boy, did it work!

[Picking AsH up, Cain gets him in position for a powerbomb, and starts
posing for the crowd before lifting The Living Kickout up...]

CL: REVERSAL! Hurricanrana by AsH, who hooks the legs!

[WHAT A REVERSAL POP!!!!]

COVER.... ONE!!!!!







TWO.....







KICKOUT!!!

FH: No sir! AsH pulled off a fluke there, but you can't keep Tyson
Cain down!

[Both men are taking their time to get to their feet here, and despite
the punishment taken so far, AsH is up first, using the ropes to help
him make it. The pair throw a couple of punches at each other as they
end up in the corner ń and a backdrop from Cain puts AsH over the
ropes and to the apron, with the Icon being agile enough to hold onto
the top rope to land safely! AsH runs along the apron and grabs Cain
by the head, leaping off to the floor and dropping Tyson's neck onto
the top rope.]

CL: Great move there by AsH!

FH: Are you kidding me? If Cain had done that to AsH these idiots in
the crowd would be screaming murder, murder ń because it's their hero
here they're cheering him!

[And AsH is gaining more cheers, as he's leapt onto the guardrail and
is showing dazzling agility to run along in, then leap onto the ring
apron, bounce straight up to the top rope, and flip off with a knee-
first moonsault to his opponent's stomach!]

[AWESOME AGILITY POP!!!!]

CL: Oh, my!

[AsH back up top now, and he's going for a top rope move, but just as
he does so, Cain rolls to the outside for a breather.]

CL: Look at the agility here from AsH! He somersaulted off the top
rope, realized as he went up that Cain had moved, and landed on his
feet ń and now he's off the ropes... baseball slide dropkick! Cain
staggered on the floor, AsH getting to his feet again in the ring,
bounces off the ropes!

[PLANCHA POP!!!]

FH: The pipsqueak may be on a roll at the moment, but trust me, Chip,
Cain will come back here! He CAN'T lose another match here!

CL: AsH rolling Cain back into the ring now, and goes to work with a
kneebar, but Cain reaches the ropes and the Small Package drops the
hold immediately. See, there's a guy who follows the rules!

FH: You know what I call people who follow the rules, Chip?

CL: I have a feeling I'm about to find out.

FH: Stupid!

[Kicking his opponent in the knee a couple of times, AsH goes up top,
and hits a picture perfect knees first moonsault.]

COVER.... ONE!!!!!







TWO.....







KICKOUT!!!

CL: AsH just waiting now, resting against the ropes for a minute,
while Cain gets to his feet, waiting for Cain to come after him.

[Cain charges in at Ash, but at the last minute, AsH drops down,
pulling down the top rope and causing Tyson to hit the floor hard!]

CL: Smart play there by Ash, causing Tyson to spill to the outside and
give him time to get his breath back... wait a minute!

FH: What the heck is this idiot doing now, Lester?

CL: It's the Dougie! Ash is doing the Dougie, and the fans are loving
this!

[DOUGIE POP!!]

FH: I can't believe he's disrespecting a world class athlete like
Tyson Cain like that!

[And neither can Cain, by the looks of things, as he's back in the
ring and blasts AsH with a hard clothesline.]

CL: AsH got turned inside out by that big clothesline, and Cain now
picks him up... German suplex!

FH: That's more like it!

[AsH stumbles up to his feet, only to be lifted by Cain into position
for a HUGE vertical suplex.]

[WE CAN SEE THE BLOOD RUSHING DOWN TO YOUR HEAD POP!!!]

CL: Cain drops AsH with a massive suplex there, and hooks the leg...

COVER.... ONE!!!!!







TWO.....







KICKOUT!!!

FH: He came so close!

[After scooping him up, an Irish whip from Cain sends AsH hard into
the corner, causing him to stagger back out towards his opponent.]

CL: Cain going for a belly to back suplex, no!

FH: I don't believe that!

CL: Back in May in the battle royal, that worked perfectly for Cain on
AsH, but this time the smaller man was prepared for it, flipping out
and hitting a high impact spinning kick to Tyson Cain's face!

[And now AsH hurls Cain to the corner, following it up with a running
shoulderblock to the stomach, before leaping onto the ropes and
wailing away with punches.]

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

SEV...

FH: What a reversal!

CL: Indeed! Cain was taking some punishment there, but he simply
charged out of the corner, smashing AsH into the mat with a huge
powerbomb, and he hasn't let go... Boston Crab!

FH: He got him! He has to have got him here!

[PLEASE DON'T TAP POP!!!!]

CL: AsH frantically trying to make it to the ropes ń I'm not sure if
he can!

LET'S GO ASH!!!		LET'S GO ASH!!!		LET'S GO ASH!!!

LET'S GO ASH!!!		LET'S GO ASH!!!		LET'S GO ASH!!!

LET'S GO ASH!!!		LET'S GO ASH!!!		LET'S GO ASH!!!

[RELIEVED POP!!!]

CL: He makes it! Come on, ref! Get Cain to let go...

FH: He has til five, Lester! And if you ask me, the ref's counting too
quickly!

[Once more, Cain is counting along with the ref, clearly enjoying
himself. On four and nine tenths, he finally lets go of the hold, and
picks AsH up. A series of European uppercuts follows, before a big T-
Bone suplex puts AsH down!]

[BIG MOVE POP!!!]


COVER.... ONE!!!!!







TWO.....







KICKOUT!!!!

CL: AsH has come close to losing this one on several occasions, but
he's got too much heart to be kept down!

FH: More like he's too stupid! AsH needs to recognize he's completely
outclassed by this young man, Lester!

[Cain has picked AsH up, and has an abdominal stretch on, now.]

FH: See, this is the kind of move I used to use back in the day! None
of that stupid gymnastics stuff!

CL: I'm hoping you had more success with it than Cain's having here,
Fred, because AsH is too resilient to quit... whoa!

[Seeing he's not getting anywhere there, Cain picks AsH up with a
pumphandle lift, then scores with an absolutely massive sitout scoop
slam piledriver!]

BIG MOVE POP!!!!


COVER.... ONE!!!!!







TWO.....







KICKOUT!!!

FH: I thought he had him there!

CL: No question about it, that was a huge move, but AsH showing great
resilience here!

[Cain picks AsH up and hurls him into the corner once again, following
up with a running knee to the back as AsH is facing the crowd.]

FH: Look at the strategy here of Tyson Cain, working over that lower
back of AsH!

CL: And now Cain rams AsH's head into the turnbuckle a few times,
taunting the crowd as he does so, before picking him up and hitting a
massive spinebuster! Cover is made!


COVER.... ONE!!!!!







TWO.....







KICKOUT!!!!

FH: So close once again!

[UH OH, HERE IT COMES POP!!!]

CL: Cain's going for that Shock and Awe!

FH: He's got him up...

CL: No! He got him nearly in position, but AsH slipped out, and shoves
him into the corner... roll-up!

COVER.... ONE!!!!!







TWO.....







KICKOUT!!!!

CL: Both these men with plenty of chances here!

FH: Never in a million years was that going to be enough to keep Cain
down, Chip! He just bought himself a few extra minutes at best,
because no-one ... NO-ONE ... kicks out of Shock and Awe!

[Cain grabs AsH by the head and runs with him towards the ropes,
hurling him over at speed. Turning around to play to the crowd, he
doesn't realize the ring veteran has caught the ropes and is flipping
back in.]

FH: Turn around, Tyson!

CL: And he does! AsH was getting back into the ring, but Cain hits a
big kick which leaves his opponent tied up in the ropes!

[Cain sees AsH's head tied in between the ropes here, as he fell
awkwardly, and his eyes just light up.]

FH: Oh, here we go! Big right hand by Cain! And another! A third,
fourth...

CL: This can't be right! The referee needs to put a stop to this right
now!

FH: The ref's doing a fine job, Chip... oh, I spoke too soon. Look at
this idiot trying to get involved!

[The ref is pulling Cain away now, and Tyson Cain's not reacting at
all well, looking as if he's about to snap and possibly hit the
official ń and turns his back on AsH as he continues arguing with the
man in the striped shirt.]

CL: AsH is free!

[HE GOT FREE POP!]

FH: Turn around, Tyson!

CL: AsH wasting no time, he's on the apron and leaps onto the top rope
ń AsH Kisser! Look at that agility, hitting the full nelson bulldog
from out of nowhere!




COVER.... ONE!!!!!







TWO.....







THREE!!!!

[HE GOT HIM POP!!!]

FH: I don't believe it! This lousy ref just robbed Tyson Cain!

CL: Are you kidding me? Cain tried to beat up on a guy who was
completely incapacitated and got what he deserved!

[AsH is on the outside slapping hands with fans, now, while Cain is
getting to his feet looking beyond furious.]

FH: I disagree with you there, Lester, but speaking of people getting
what they deserve...

[OH, YOU DIDN'T JUST DO THAT SHOCKED POP!!!!]

[Cain grabs the referee by the throat and hits a huge right hand,
staggering him ń then lifts him up!]

CL: He can't do that to an official!

FH: SHOCK AND AWE! He hit it!

[HUGE HEEL POP FOR ATTACKING THE REF!!!!]

CL: HE JUST DESTROYED A PVW OFFICIAL!

FH: Sometimes a man has to do what a man has to do, Chip.

[And here comes AsH charging back up the aisle way ... However the
damage has already been done.  Tyson Cain has dropped to his stomach
and rolled to the outside and headed back towards the entrance way.
AsH kneels beside the official and calls for the EMT's to make their
way down the aisle quicker.]

CL: This is just not right.  You can bet that Tyson Cain will have to
pay a nice fine and possible suspension after this.

FH: Would you want to be the one to bring that news to Tyson Cain
after this?

CL: I am being told we have to cut backstage while the EMT's check on
our official.  The PVW World Heavyweight Champion is standing by
before his match later tonight!

[Backstage. Sitting in an overstuffed chair, with his bodyguard and
head of security flanking him, is Gibson Hayes. Todd Johnstone is
pacing behind Gibby, talking into one phone, listening on a bluetooth
headset and texting on another cellular. Gibson is dressed in his
trademarked blue business suit with white shirt and red tie. On his
right lapel is an American flag pin while on his left, over his heart,
is a red pin with a blue circle and interlocking, tilted GH letters.]

Protocol tells me I should go into that ring in the center of this
venue, bringing with me the other members of this grand alliance that
shall reshape Phoenix Valley Wrestling, and the wrestling world, for
years to come.

This is not the time to follow protocol.

[Hayes's eyes remain focused on the camera.]

Gibson Hayes does not simply follow anything, or any one. Gibson Hayes
is the most accomplished wrestler in PVW history. I, and I alone, am
the sole Triple Crown winner. Others may have had their eyes set on
this, or even capturing every title available in this organization,
but their dreams of being first are forever unfulfilled.

The road to glory in PVW runs through "Mr. Tradition". Gibson Hayes
has, time and time again, been on that supercard, never being defeated
on that showcase of some of the brightest stars ever assembled by one
company. I have been the star that has sparkled brighter than any
other. Some have been on the cusp, just moments from a renewed glory
or making their biggest mark on this sport's history.

Many fine wrestlers plied their trade in this company. Doc Holliday,
Rick Marley, The Dragon Kid, Chris Hartt amongst others. Do you know
what those wrestlers have in common? I ran each and every one of them
out of town with my own two hands. A couple have managed to come
crawling back in, tails tucked in between their legs, but they have
never been the same after having been face to face with America's
Last, Best Hope for a Bright Future and Better Tomorrow; me, Gibson
Hayes.

[A slight pause.]

Yet, there is room to grow and room to improve. As Todd and I mulled
over our options things became perfectly clear: Old Man Mal and the
Movie Star were excess baggage. Instead of carrying those two any
longer, Team Gibson looked for people that would provide succor;
partners whose aims were as tried and true as the sweet nectar carried
in abundance in America's blessed bosom.

The only answer was, of course, Livestock and the Gutch. Who else but
men devoted to upholding the laws of this very nation could aid in
pulling up this nation of dregs back up to its former glory? The PVW
Tag Team Champions focused and working with PVW's World Heavyweight
champion? A team made of the same cloth dreams are cut from if there
were ever any such cloth to begin. Yet, something was missing.

[A well manicured right hand opens, palm facing the heavens.]

On the one hand you have the savvy of the lawyers, the brute strength,
and down home sensibilities of Gutch combined with the gifted mental,
and physical abilities of Livestock Zappa; a regular Buddha and
DaVinci pairing if ever those two giants of the world were reborn.
Then you have me, the Aristotle of the Squared Circle and America's
one true champion. That trio, the one just stated, can move mountains
and renew the spirit of this trouble nation. Yet, something was
missing.

[Gibson brings up his left hand as a fist.]

Someone had to be able to deal with the more, "unsavory" element of
this nation in peril. A man who would look past warm feelings of
humanity and set aside empathy to do the right thing. A man capable of
enough compassion to reassure the frightened and terrify the wicked.
Frank Knight is that very man. Uncle Frank is a man of integrity and a
man who knows when it becomes time to stop mollycoddling and begin the
arduous task of re-educating the unbelievers. While Livestock and
Gutch work in minutae; while Gibson Hayes works in restoring faith;
Uncle Frank has the most difficult job of all - saving lives.

[And that fist strikes into the open right palm.]

Our dear Uncle will be saving those very men who believe themselves to
be worthy of breathing the air above their stations. Frank Knight is
the gatekeeper, keeping those who are not worthy of being in the ring
with America's golden child safe and away from a tragic end at my
hands.

Together, the four of us, represent something the wrestling
business... no, the United States... nay, the _WORLD_ needs now, more
than ever. We represent HOPE. Hope for the future. Hope in the
exceptional. Hope for PVW. Hope for America. Hope for the _WORLD_.

Together, all of us, can fall in line behind America's Last, Best Hope
for a Bright Future and Better Tomorrow and slake our thirsts for that
elixir of cures long thought lost. Together, Livestock, Gutch, Frank
and I give you HOPE. Thank you, good night and look towards tomorrow.

[FADE TO...

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 smokescreen engulfs the entranceway, blocking
it off from view. Just as the smoke reaches its maximum density,
"Money Talks" by AC/DC comes blasting out through the sound system.

A figure can then be seen making his way through the smoke. He comes
to the edge of the entrance way, where he can be plainly seen, and
stops to look over the crowd, soaking in their reaction.

FH: Hey, you can't stop there--we got a show to do!

CL: The Mercenary is not scheduled to...

[Merc stands at the end of the ramp as the lights in the arena go
out...]

FLASHING LIGHTS...

[_HUGE_bright pyro explosion from the entranceway fills the arena.
"The Good Life" by Kanye West starts to play as "The Extreme" Alex
Epstein walks through the entranceway with a huge grin on his face.]

FH: Oh look it's the liar!

[The fans cheer loudly as Alex, sporting an old school UEW Alex
Extreme t-shirt, a pair of black jeans, and trademark shades, meets
his long time friend Merc at the entranceway. The two shake hands and
head down to the ring.]

CL: Alex still sporting a noticeable limp from incident in Canada.

FH: You mean when he used the Stanley Cup as a weapon?

CL: Not that one.

FH: Well what else could you possibly be talking about.

CL: I'm trying not mention our competition.

FH: Oh...wait, we have competition?

[Epstein hops over the top rope into the ring with not nearly the ease
that he used to. Mercenary slides between the ropes with haliburton in
hand. Alex walks across and grabs a mic. He looks out at the crowd...]

AE: Yeah, I lied...

YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT I LIED.

AE: No different than the lies that bitch Jessica Marshall's told. But
then I told you all that didn't I?

[Alex points to the big screen. Footage is dated 6/26/10 courtesy of
the UWF. Alex sitting in a United Center skybox talking with UWF's Moe
Owens...]

Moe Owens: The UWF title.

[Alex sighs.]

AE: Jessica Marshall has gone too far this time.

MO: Jessica Marshall? Alex, Trey Da...

AE: Anyone with half a brain knows this was Jessica Marshall. Taking
my name wasn't enough was it for you? When I get back I'm going to...

[The footage stops and cuts back to live...]

AE: I told the world this was coming.

[Alex pauses...]

I'm not here for the PVW title...

I'm not here for Doc Holliday, Rick Marley, or to save the America
from Gibson Hayes...

I'm here for...

[Alex is cut off by the opening laughter of Boomkat's "The
Wreckoning", and the crowd unleashes a hateful volley of jeers as the
one and only Jessica "Fatality" Marshall emerges from the locker
rooms.  She's dressed in a black leather mini-skirt and a crimson red
top, staring down at the ring with hate in her eyes.]

JFM: So I'll bet you-

AE: I only got one thing to say...

[Suddenly the big screen behind Jessica comes to with a frozen frame
of Jessica Marshall from End Game...]

AE: Tight-y whit-ies...

[The fans chant "TIGHT-Y WHITE-IES!" *clap clap clapclapclap* as
Jessica looks on fuming. Alex points to the screen then shakes Merc's
hand.]

JFM: You make me sick, Alex.  You make-

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

JFM: [to crowd] You think this is funny?  You're all losers, every
last one of you!

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

JM: Shut the hell up right now!

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

JM: [back at Alex] I've destroyed you before Epstein, I've destroyed
men who claimed to be better than you and I'll take great pleasure in
ending you one more time!

AE: Well this time is going to be different. There's no UWF brass to
hid behind. The network dumped you and you couldn't even hold on to
Alex Martinez--the one guy who might actually been able to stop me.

Chance Mackenzie?

Really?

No Jessica, this time you've got no one.

[A hint of a smile begins to cross her lips as Jessica holds up a
hand.]

JFM: Well that's not exactly true Alex. I have one person...


*WHAM!!!*



[WHAT THE BLOODY HELL SHOCKING GASPS !!!]


FH: What the hell?

CL: MERCENARY JUST SLAMMED THE HALIBURTON RIGHT THROUGH ALEX EPSTEIN'S
SKULL!!!

[As Alex grabs his head, his long time "friend" slams the haliburton
into the back of leg Epstein limped to ringside on! Epstein
immediately crumples to the ground as Merc continues to hammer away at
the bad leg!  Up by the entrance, Fatality laughs cruelly and off-mic
begins to trash talk some of the closest fans to her with taunts of
"Look at your hero now, you inbreds!" as she walks down the aisle
towards ringside.]

CL: Why is  Merc attacking Alex Epstein?

FH: Because he's been hired by Jessica Marshall--that's why!!!

CL: How the hell do you know that? Merc has been a thorn in her side
for just about a year now...

FH: And she's taken the knowledge from that experience as to what
makes the Merc tick... and that is money.

CL: But does she have enough to have Merc turn on someone he's known
for 12 plus years?

FH: From what I'm seeing here, I'd have to give a resounding yes.

[Merc takes the Haliburton and starts dropping it down edgewise
repeatedly onto Epstein's bad leg, making sure that the hinges do some
ripping and tearing as well. Epstein tries to roll away from the
onslaught, but Merc quickly drops the briefcase and grabs Alex by the
ankle before he can get out of the ring. Merc then drags his former
friend back to the centre of the ring by one leg, and then flips him
over onto his belly by the same leg.

While lifting that leg up to shoulder height, Merc motions for Jessica
to slide the Haliburton underneath, which she does so willingly and
with a vicious little smirk on her face. With the case in place, Merc
then slams Epstein's knee repeatedly into the unforgiving steel,
twisting the ankle at the same time.

Sensing his fallen friend has had enough, Merc smashes the knee one
more time into the case, and lets go. Alex immediately grabs for the
leg and begins to rock from side to side in pain, all the while
looking up with confusion in his eyes at one of his oldest friends.

While Epstein writhes around, Merc goes to where the Haliburton is
laying, and opens it up. We catch a quick glimpse of a stack of green
colored paper inside the case, and something with a wooden handle.
Merc grabs the piece of wood and removes it from the Haliburton, and
once it comes out into the light, we see that it is a ball-peen
hammer. The hitman takes a long look at the tool, and seems to be
conflicted on as what to do next. He takes a sideways glance at
Jessica, then to Epstein, back to Jessica and when he takes a look
back to Epstein, he follows it up with a hammershot to Alex's
leg. Epstein lets out a loud scream of pain, Merc drops the weapon to
the mat, and picks up the Haliburton.  Quickly, Fatality joins Merc in
the ring and stands over the fallen Epstein.]

JFM:  See Alex, I make my living tearing men like you to pieces, and I
make a damn good living doing it.  You may have had a broken leg, but
when I'm through with you it's going to be your soul that's broken.

[She hands the Mercenary, her Mercenary, the microphone.]

Merc: You know Alex, we've known each other for a very long time now,
and you know how I operate. It's just that this time someone has
actually out bid you. It was bound to happen sometime, and well, you
know me... I'm hoping you don't take this personally, but it's just
business.

["The Wreckoning" hits the PA system, and the business associates
depart.]

CL: I ... I am just STUNNED.

FH: How anyone could be stunned when it comes to the Mercenary is
beyond me.  That guy would turn on his own mother for the right price.

CL: For months ... Alex and the Mercenary played everyone in the PVW.
They did it together and kept this big secret.  And now that it was
finally time to soak up the rewards ... The Mercenary took a job from
_JESSICA_ Marshall!

FH: Makes you wonder how much she is paying him doesn't it.

CL: Makes me wonder where the loyalty is these days.

FH: The Mercenary has worked for hundreds of known people in the
professional wrestling world.  The guy has to have bank accounts
around the globe.

CL: Well now he can be a minion to, Jessica Marshall.

FH: I can think of worse things myself.  I wish I was a Jessica
Marshall minion.

[POP!]

CL: The fans giving Epstein a nice respectful pop as he is heading out
of the ring.  I am still stunned.  I _never_ saw this coming.

FH: Actually I should have picked up on it.  It's a classic move for
the Mercenary if you think about it.

CL: What does this mean for the legend, Alex Epstein?  He is here to
finish off Jessica Marshall.  However now he will have to go through
his friend, The Mercenary!

FH: He will probably return to the back and pick up his bags and take
the first flight home.  The Mercenary isn't a man you want on your bad
side.

CL: I highly doubt that.  I would assume next week we will find out
just what Mr. Epstein is thinking.  The Voice is headed back in the
ring as we prepare for our next match.

["Loyal to No-One" by The Dropkick Murphy's plays over the PA as the
arena goes completely silent.]

HD: FROM DUBLIN, IRELAND, STANDING 6 FOOT 1 AND WEIGHING IN AT TWO
HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE POUNDS, THIS IS


THE CELTIC CRIPPLER....


CALEB FOLEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!


[A hooded man stands at the entrance just bouncing to the beat of the
music. His head is down so his face is completely covered. The man
lifts up his head to reveal that it is none other Caleb Foley and the
crowd has absolutely exploded now with cheers. Caleb pulls the hood
off his head and reveals a new hairstyle his reddish hair completely
slicked back and a full red beard with a black goatee. Caleb begins to
walk down the entrance when he stops, he bends down and pounds his
knuckles to the ground and his points up to the sky as a huge pyro
display goes off!!]

[CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

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

CL: Foley was wildly considered one of the favorites in the Called
Shot after beating, Johnny Detson at Tradition Five.

FH: It takes a little more then luck to become, Mr. Called Shot.

CL: Apparently so.

FH: Irish eyes weren't smiling on that night.

CL: Tonight he better hope they are as things aren't about to get any
easier.

FH: After tonight might as well call him Dead Foley Jr.

CL: Enough, Fred!

FH: What too much?

CL: You need to give Caleb a break.

HD: His opponent ...  Wrestling out of Seattle, Washington.  He is the
King of Nothing ... NEVERMIND!!!

[A familiar guitar riff blast across the loudspeakers as "Smells Like
Teen Spirit," by Nirvana begins to play.  A loud mixture of cheers,
boos, and catcalls begins to echo throughout the space as the crowd
waits for the man they know to be coming through the curtains to
appear.  Several moments pass, and just when it seems that perhaps no
one is going to come through the entrance way into the arena, a large,
dark figure steps out onto the platform.  The large, disheveled figure
is clad in a faded black "Nirvana" t-shirt over which is a ragged
looking flannel shirt with the sleeves torn off.  He wears what
appears to be a home-made kilt of black and grey cloth and on his feet
are a pair of very worn black combat boots which are seemingly held
together by the thick strips of silver duct tape wrapped around them.
Long, stringy unwashed black hair falls forward over his face, which
is covered by an unruly dark beard which hangs down to his chest.  He
pauses for a few moments,  his mostly obscured face devoid of emotion
before walking casually down the aisle to the ring.  He ignores the
yelling fans on either side of him and upon reaching the ring, rolls
lazily under  the bottom rope.  He slowly rises to his feet and awaits
the ring bell with a look of boredom upon his face.]

CL: Look at Caleb Foley, Fred.

FH: Looks scared to me.

CL: Not even close.  Caleb Foley is looking straight across the ring
and he seems zoned in on his opponent here tonight.

FH: Look at the size disadvantage between these two men.  [In his best
Irish mock voice.]  They stole me lucky charms!

=========================================

PVW - HEATWAVE - ONE ON ONE MATCH
Caleb Foley v. Nevermind

=========================================


*DING*DING*DING*



CL: And there is the bell.  Caleb Foley isn't wasting any time at all.
He is taking it to the big guy with hard rights.  Foley is _backing_
the big guy up!

FH: Foley must hit like a girl.  It takes like three hard rights to
even budge, Nevermind.

[Foley swings again, but this time Nevermind blocks it and turns Foley
around and into the corner.  It's Nevermind's turn and he begins
unloading and punishing the Irishman in the corner with hard right
hands.  Foley nearly leaps backwards with each blow, but the ring
turnbuckles keep him on his feet.  Foley bends over and drives his
shoulder into the midsection of Nevermind driving his way out of the
corner ... However Nevermind double underhooks.]

CL: These two men are going at it right away here tonight!  Nevermind
trying to hook the Celtic Crippler and lift him up ... Foley is using
his weight and fighting!

FH: Foley is a little feisty tonight.

[Nevermind swings Foley sideways tossing him with his strength away.
Foley drops down to one knee, but pushes himself up and Nevermind
comes charging across with a Mafia kick that connects and finally
drops the Celtic Crippler to the mat.]

FH: It was only a matter of time.  Mr. Foley meet the bottom of
Nevermind's boot, HAHA!

CL: I see you enjoyed that, Fred.

[Nevermind does not hesitate as he quickly grabs Foley by the back of
his head so that he is kneeling and then drives a vicious knee into
the side of Foley's head. Foley is rocked by the move and slumps to
the mat. Again the King of Nothing does not give Foley a moment of
rest as he stomps across the spine of Foley once, a second time and
the third stomp drives Foley's face squarely into the mat. Nevermind
grabs Foley by the head once again and pulls him up and drills him
with an European uppercut.]

FH: And the munchkin ...

CL: Foley is not a munchkin!

FH: you're right I meant leprechaun. Foley, the fatherless leprechaun,
is forced back into the corner by Nevermind.

CL: FRED!

[Nevermind drives his knee into the mid-section of Foley three
consecutive times before grabbing him and just tossing him towards the
center of the ring.]

FH: Nevermind just tossing the garbage around here tonight. Nevermind
is measuring him and leaps ...


"___TTTHHHUUUMMMPPPP___"


CL: Foley moved out of the way and Nevermind drives his knee into the
canvas. Foley is up to his feet and catches Nevermind with a right
hand before grabbing his right arm and twisting it.

[Foley twists the arm of Nevermind again and locks on a standing arm
bar. Foley grips the arm of Nevermind and drives the point of his
elbow into the arm and shoulder of Nevermind three times before
clinching in a tighter grip on the arm.]

FH: Foley must think he is Fontana as he is applying this arm bar.

CL: Fontana doesn't own the arm bar, Fred.

FH: You may want to tell him that.

[Foley wrenches on the arm again and pulls Nevermind to his feet and
drags the bigger man to the ropes.]

CL: Foley wrapping the arm of Nevermind around the top rope and he
drives the point of his elbow into the arm once again. Caleb Foley
showing a sound game plan right now as continues to work over that
arm.

FH: He would be better off grabbing a chair and swinging like a madman
to weaken Nevermind. You saw the abuse he took at the hands of Chris
Hartt at Called Shot and yet he was tossing Foley around with ease
when the match started.

[Foley leaps and catches the arm of Nevermind with a dropkick and then
grabs the arm and whips Nevermind into the far side ropes. As
Nevermind rebounds, Foley braces himself and catches Nevermind ...]

CL: Foley going for the Delivery from Dublin ...

FH: But Nevermind is throwing left hands into the head of Foley
causing him to stagger and release Nevermind!

[As Foley shakes his head Nevermind lunges forward catching Foley with
a nasty clothesline sending him to the mat. Nevermind steps on the
face of Foley and scrapes the sole of his boot across the bridge of
the nose.]

FH: You didn't tell me that Caleb Foley was scheduled for a nose job,
Chip!

CL: It looks like that isn't the only thing that Nevermind has in
mind.

[Nevermind off the ropes and leaps into a big double knee that lands
right on the chest area of the Celtic Crippler.  Caleb Foley holds his
chest as he rolls onto his stomach.  Nevermind just slowly places a
boot and then his other on the mid-back of Caleb Foley and stands with
all 270 pounds on Foley.]

[BOOOO!]

CL: Nevermind seems to be just toying with him.

FH: When you are that size you can almost do whatever you want.

[Nevermind steps off as Caleb Foley rolls into the corner seeking
refuge.  The referee blocks Nevermind from doing anymore damage as
Foley has retreated using the ropes to help him make it back to his
feet.  Finally with Foley up and in the corner, Nevermind charges past
and towards the Celtic Crippler ...]


[GET OUT OF DODGE POP!]


CL: Foley just got out of the way and Nevermind into the corner chest
first!  And Foley from behind .... GERMAN SUPLEX INTO A BRIDGE!




!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


!!! THR -- !!!




... NO!  Nevermind powers out.

FH: Foley is just going to piss, Nevermind off.

CL: I thought Nevermind didn't care about anything.

FH: Have you ever had a belly to back suplex?

CL: No.

FH: It sort of pisses you off.

CL: Both men are right back up and .. Armdrag take down by the Celtic
Crippler and he locks on an arm wrench keeping the big man grounded.

[The fans pop for the Irish born superstar.  Nevermind back on his
feet, but the Celtic Crippler continues to hold onto that arm.  He
yanks it down with full force.  He yanks it down again.  Foley bends
it backwards into a partial chickenwing.]

CL: Foley working over that arm.  Maybe showing a little weakness that
Chris Hartt could expose.

FH: It would take both of those two at the same time to expose _any_
weakness of Nevermind's.

[The larger and much stronger, Nevermind busts out and spins around,
but Foley ducks under a big right hand and rebounds off the ropes
across ... As Nevermind turns around he gets drilled with a dropkick
in the chest.  Staying on his feet and goes for Foley again who ducks
under and rebounds off the ropes and hits him with a flying body cross
for the cover.]




!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


CL: Nevermind with a strong kick out.  And Foley goes right back to
trying to keep control of the match with a side headlock.

FH: Nobody controls Nevermind.

[Nevermind pushes himself to his feet and Foley holds onto the side
headlock.  Nevermind attempts to lift him up in a side suplex, but
Foley back flips out and on his feet and a roll up from behind and
another cover.]




!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!




!!! THR -- !!!


CL: Nevermind kicks out again!  Both men right back up and Nevermind
just turned Foley _inside_ out this time with a clothesline.

FH: He smashed him like a bug!

[Foley kips up from the clothesline and catches the monster Nevermind
in the jaw with a dropkick. Nevermind staggers back towards the ropes
and Foley charges ...]

CL: Up and over! Both men tumbling to the floor from the momentum of
that clothesline!

[The crowd cheers as Foley pushes himself to his feet first and stomps
on the right arm of Nevermind. The crowd continues to cheer as Foley
slaps his chest with his fist and pulls Nevermind up ...]


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


CL: The King of Nothing sent shoulder first into the steel ringpost.

FH: Foley showing his usual fire so it should only be a few moments
before he is squashed like a bug forever.

CL: Nevermind drops to a knee and Foley charges! A vicious knee to the
shoulder and the head that sends Nevermind crashing to the concrete.

[The fans continue to cheer the Irish-man as he grabs Nevermind by the
hair and rolls him into the ring. Foley with a display of strength as
he scoops Nevermind up and slams him to the mat. Foley runs towards
the ropes on the rebound then drops a leg drop across the right arm of
Nevermind.]

CL: Foley continuing his assault on the arm of Nevermind.

FH: I hate to say it but it is a sound strategy from the red head step
child.

CL: Fred!

FH: What? didn't his mom remarry yet?

CL: Fred! Foley grabs the right arm of Nevermind again ... and he
locks
on an armbar!

FH: Fon ...

CL: don't say it, Fred. No one really cares if Fontana believes he
owns the rights to every armbar in this profession.

[Nevermind doesn't scream out in pain as Foley wrenches on the arm,
but every few seconds the fans can see him wince in pain.]

CL: Nevermind barely showing the pain, but look at the torque Foley is
putting on that armbar!

FH: Unlike Foley, Nevermind hides his emotions!

[Foley scissors the arm as he maintains the armbar.]

FH: Come on stop ripping Fon...

CL: Foley scissoring the arm, adding additional pressure to the
shoulder and still Nevermind masks the pain!

[Nevermind begins to roll towards Foley.]

CL: Nevermind trying to ease the pressure off of his shoulders and
he's got Foley's shoulders on the mat!



!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!


CL: Foley rolls his shoulder up and releases the hold so he can get
off of his back.

FH: Come on he's used to counting the lights.

[Foley back to his feet and he catches Nevermind with a right hand and
follows up with a knee lift to the mid-section. As Nevermind doubles
over, Foley grabs the back of Nevermind's head with one hand and takes
three steps before leaping and driving the head of Nevermind into the
mat.]

CL: One handed bulldog sends Nevermind face first into the mat.



!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!


FH: Nevermind with a powerful kick-out!

CL: But Foley is back to his feet first and once again drives his knee
into the right arm of Nevermind.

[Foley begins to motion for Nevermind to stand to his feet and as he
does Foley catches the right arm with a dropkick.]

CL: Foley still focusing on that right arm.

FH: A dropkick to the arm though?

CL: Foley grabs Nevermind again ... Single arm DDT!



!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



!!! THR -- !!!


[The crowd boos loudly as the referee thrusts two fingers in the air.]

CL: And again Nevermind kicks out!

FH: don't sound so surprised, Chip. This is the man who single handed
took apart Chris Hartt and Caleb Foley at Called Shot.

CL: Foley also suffered the Heroplex through the table at End Game,
Fred.

FH: That would matter if he had brains, Chip.

[Foley slaps the mat in frustration before he pulls Nevermind up.
Foley grabs Nevermind and turns him upside-down, and drops into a
sitting driving Nevermind head-first into the mat.]

CL: Foley with a piledriver!

[The crowd cheers as Caleb rolls Nevermind over and covers him once
again.]



!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



!!! THR -- !!!


FH: Again the King of Nothing kicks out!

[The fans groan as Foley runs his hands through his hair and pleads
with the referee that it was a three count. He shakes his head no and
holds up two fingers high into the air. Foley stands to his feet and
takes a few steps backwards and begins to motion to Nevermind to
stand.]

CL: Foley screaming at Nevermind to stand up.

FH: How is that a good idea? I mean seriously what about Nevermind
standing is a good idea?

CL: Nevermind back to his feet and Foley charges ...

[As Foley leaps with the spear, Nevermind grabs a hold of him and
swings him violently before he just tosses him across the ring.]

FH: Foley bounces off of the mat!

CL: Nevermind charges forward and just punts Foley in the ribs!


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"

[Foley winces in pain and tries to grab his ribs but Nevermind pulls
him up and quickly grabs Foley with a gutwrench and in a swift motion
drops him back first across his knee with a vicious back breaker.  He
then keeps the gutwrench and lifts him up taking a few steps forward
and then drops it again across his knee for a second back breaker.
And like many other wrestlers who have adopted a set of "three" moves
... Nevermind lifts the Celtic Crippler up a third time in the
gutwrench position dropping him with full force down across his knee.]


"___THWAAAACK___"


CL: _Three_ brutal back breakers by the King of nothing!

FH: Caleb Foley never did have much of a spine anyways.

CL: Hey!  I would greatly disagree with that, Fred.  When the PVW
needed to turn to a hero ... Caleb Foley was always the man to step up
and take on whomever he needed to.

FH: Then he cried when the going got tough.

CL: You will never let him get past that will you.

FH: Nope.

[Nevermind pushes down with both hands across the chest of the Celtic
Crippler for the late cover.]

CL: Nevermind sending a message to the PVW!




!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


[KICK OUT POP!]


... But Caleb Foley returns the message by saying he isn't done yet!

FH: It's his funeral, Chip.

[Nevermind now yanks the Celtic Crippler back up to his feet.  He
places him between his legs ready to lift him up for a powerbomb.]

FH: Nevermind has one of the most brutal powerbomb's in the business.
If he lifts this then you can start the count down.

CL: Foley starting to fight back!


[FANS LOVING IT POP!]


... HE LIFT'S NEVERMIND UP ... AND BACK BODY DROP COUNTER!

FH: Nevermind didn't stay down long though.

CL: Caleb Foley just wont quit.  He is back on his feet and even
Nevermind has to be a little impressed.

FH: Nothing impresses, Nevermind.

[Nevermind charges the Celtic Crippler who catches the King of Nothing
off guard with a sit-out spinebuster.]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


[SIGNATURE SPOT POP!]


CL: Delivery from Dublin!  And Caleb Foley showing that he has the
heart of a lion.

FH: And the brain of a cardboard box.

[Foley standing there leaps into the second part of his Irish
Blessing, the standing moonsault part and lands across the chest of
Nevermind.]

CL: Foley not going for the cover.  He is on his feet and the fans
have raised to theirs!  Nevermind is laid out in the middle of the
ring.  Could Foley hand the beast his first singles defeat!?!

FH: This doesn't look good at all, Chip.

CL: Hopefully Larry Gionet is backstage watching.

[Foley begins to climb the turnbuckles.  The fans are roaring as he
reaches the top.  The king of nothing, Nevermind still lays motionless
in the center of the ring as the Celtic Crippler stands and leaps off
into his 450 splash.]


[FINISHAAAAA POP!]


CL: Irish Eyes Are Smiling!


"___THUUUUUUD___"


[SHOCKING POP!]


... NO!  Nevermind has connected with a fist to the Caleb Foley's face
as he came
down from the top ropes.

[The momentum from the move has allowed Foley to land on Nevermind,
but the blow did far more damage than the splash.]

FH: Caleb Foley should of kept the ground game going a tad longer.  It
takes quite a beating to put Nevermind down.  Like I said the brain of
a mouse.

[Foley now on the mat as Nevermind begins to push himself back up to
his feet.  The fans have gone stone cold quiet.  The king of nothing
makes his way over to Foley and pulls the red head to his feet.
Nevermind whips Foley into the corner ...]

CL: Foley heading for the corner with a head of steam and Nevermind is
charging in behind him ...

[Foley braces his hands on the ropes and kicks his feet up into the
air.]

FH: Foley looking to slip behind Nevermind ...

[As Foley pushes himself into the air Nevermind slows down his run and
catches Foley on his shoulder. Foley tries to struggle out of
Nevermind's grip but the King of Nothing yanks Foley's grip from the
ropes as he steps back.]

CL: Foley is in a precarious position and Nevermind charges forward!

[Nevermind nears the turnbuckles and shoves Foley off of his
shoulder.]


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


FH: Snake eyes! Foley's head just crapped out on the top turnbuckle.

[The crowd moans as Foley's head ricochets of off the top turnbuckle
and again the King of Nothing doesn't hesitate as he pulls Foley up
and displays his power lifting Foley over his head in a gorilla press.
After a brief moment Nevermind drops Foley and drops to a knee as he
does so ...]


"___THUUUUUUUD___"


FH: Seattle Slam!

CL: Foley nailed with that gut buster from nearly seven feet in the
air!

[Nevermind quickly hooks the leg of The Celtic Crippler ...]


!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



!!! THREE !!!


FH: The luck of the Irish once again fails Caleb Foley! Nevermind
picks up the win!


*DING*DING*DING*


HD: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this contest ...


!!! NEVERMIND !!!


[The referee tries to raise Nevermind's hand in victory but he just
glares at him before rolling lazily out of the ring and walking to the
back without looking back at the ring.]

CL: Nevermind picks up _another_ win in the PVW.  Is there anyone that
is going to be able to defeat him?

FH: I am going to go out on a limb and say ... no.

CL: Way to go out on a limb there, Fred.  Wait what's that?

[PVW's warrior, Larry Gionet has made his way through to the front row
of the crowd.  He has hopped over the guard rail and has now dove
under the bottom ropes to meet his former friend in the center of the
ring.]

CL: Caleb Foley has just pushed himself up to his feet and Gionet has
turned him around and SHORT ARM LARIAT!


[ROARING GET HIM OUT OF HERE POP!]


FH: I am digging this new fire by Larry Gionet.

CL: You just love anyone who beats up on, Caleb Foley.

FH: Is that so wrong?

[The already shook up Celtic Crippler grabs the back of his neck in
pain.  The fans roar into jeers as the PVW's Warrior continues to
stomp a mud-hole into Caleb Foley.]

THUMP!

THUMP!

THUMP!

THUMP!

THUMP!

THUMP!

CL: Gionet is stomping away on the Celtic Crippler and Chris Hartt
isn't in the arena here tonight to help his friend.

FH: Or maybe he is and he just has chosen to allow Caleb Foley to eat
his medicine. Gionet staying on the attack as he pulls Foley up and
whips him into the ropes ...

[Caleb Foley rebounds off of the ropes and Gionet catches him and
pushes him upward by reaching under his legs and lifting him into the
air. While retaining the hold on Foley's leg, Gionet falls backwards,
dropping Foley front-first into the canvas.]

CL: Gionet with a flapjack on Foley and he drops an elbow to the back
of his neck. Where's security?

FH: They are probably still recovering from having to hold Spectre
back.  I doubt the PVW pays any security force enough money for that
task.

[As Hoyle finishes his sentence Gionet takes Foley's legs, and bends
them at the knees, before he crosses them, placing one ankle in the
other leg's knee-pit. Gionet then turns around so that he is facing
away from Foley as he does that he places one of his feet into the
triangle created by the Foley's crossed legs. Gionet then places the
Foley's free ankle under his knee-pit and bridges backwards to reach
over their head and locks his arms around the head of Foley.]

CL: And there's the Muta Lock!

FH: For the laymen out there it is the inverted STF and Gionet has it
locked in tight!

CL: Foley is locked in the center of the ring and there's no help on
the way!

[The crowd boos vehemently as Gionet let's loose a wild scream. Foley
can be heard screaming as well as he tries to use his arms to push up
but it is futile jester as Gionet has the inverted STF locked in
tight.]

FH: Look at the pain in Foley's eyes!

CL: This move is targeting back and neck of Foley ...

FH: Brilliant move by Gionet! Danny Daniels drove Foley through that
table at End Game Two and while he tried to cover up his injuries
everyone know his head and neck took a beating!

[Foley lets loose another scream as Gionet continues to pull back on
the neck. He can be heard screaming at Foley to give up.]

FH: He's taunting Foley as Gionet knows this isn't a match. He's going
to release the hold when he's damn well ready!

CL: Foley could be seriously hurt!

FH: Who's going to care? His fans? They treat him like they treat
Chris Hartt ... a failure!

[Foley begins to slam his hand into the mat.]

FH: Foley's tapping!

CL: And Gionet refuses to release the hold!

FH: I told you when he's damn well ready he release it.

[Finally PVW security begins to flood the aisleway.]

CL: Finally!

FH: They must have gotten Spectre looked up in the padded room.

[The crowd cheers as security slides into the ring and is finally able
to pull Gionet off of Foley. A sadistic smile crosses Gionet's face as
he stares down at Foley. Security pushes Gionet back towards the
ropes. Gionet glares at Foley, who is holding his neck in pain one
last time as Driven by Sevendust begins to play over the arena sound
system.]

CL: Tonight has been out of control.  Spectre ... Tyson Cain ... The
Biz ... Larry Gionet .... What is going on around here?

FH: Remember ... It's a _new_ PVW, Chip.  What did Dex think was going
to happen when you dangle that carrot about?  Everyone is taking it
upon themselves to make an impact.

CL: You do make some sense, Fred.

FH: Don't act so surprised.

CL: Speaking out out of control and Tyson Cain.  I am getting word
that Dean Hayes has tracked down the young superstar.

[The screen switches to the backstage area. Tyson Cain is walking
through and staring down every person who even dares to attempt eye
contact. Dean Hayes rushes up to him and stands in his way to try and
get a few words.]

Hayes:  Tyson!  Tyson, I just have to know what happened in the ring
tonight?

[Cain just stares at Hayes like he stole something, but doesn't say a
word.]

Hayes:  Seriously kid, nobody saw that kind of nasty attack coming and
I think everybody is wondering where a sudden burst like that comes
fr...

[Tyson grabs the mic out of Hayes' hand.]

Cain:  SHUT THE HELL UP!!!

[Hayes doesn't know how to respond, but wisely doesn't say another
word.]

Cain:  The entire time I have allowed myself to dance the dance of the
ignorant. I walked in here with the sugar plums of goodness and
success still existing in my dreams. It was my future to grab and I
tried.

[Hayes raises an eyebrow as he listens as carefully as ever.]

Cain:  I tried walking that road where I was who they wanted me to be.
All I ever heard was, "Ty, just go out there and be yourself. Prove
you belong on this stage."

[Cain's glare slowly turns back toward Hayes as Dean really seems to
be sweating with the crazy look Tyson is giving him.]

Cain:  Then they handed me a piece of paper with a list of things I
could do and things I couldn't. They handcuffed me the moment I walked
in. Tell me, Mr. Interview-guy, how does that make you feel when you
get told how you can and can't act.

[Tyson seems to have gone interviewer now as he puts the mic in Dean's
face for an answer.]

Hayes:  I wouldn't feel good about it.

[Tyson grabs Dean into a big bear hug with his left arm, pinning
Dean's head right in his armpit.]

Cain:  Yes!  You feel it too. It's nice to have somebody who can
understand what I am going through.

[Hayes says something, but we can't understand him due to being
muffled by Cain's armpit. Tyson nods like he understands what Dean
said.]

Cain:  I know! They said things like: be careful what words you use on
television because our sponsors don't enjoy paying for foul language.

[Tyson releases the one-arm bear hug and keeps hold of Dean's shirt.]

Cain:  Or this one: You can't beat up the staff, stagehands or
interviewers!

Hayes:  That is one I happen to agree with, Ty...

[Cain looks around and that un-nerving glare in his wide eyes
returns.]

Cain:  Oh yeah....You can't destroy company equipment!

[With that, Cain lets go of Hayes and kicks over the lighting
structure that was near him. It hits the cement floor hard and makes a
loud noise.  This gets EVERYBODY'S attention backstage now.]

Cain:  I'm not playing by anyone's rules but my own anymore!

[He steps away from Hayes, who has a look of relief as if he just
avoided a nasty accident. Cain continues.]

Cain:  This Pittsburgh man of steel has his own agenda. I want to hold
every title PVW has to offer and I'm going to do it my way. I won't be
pigeon-holed into somebody's idea of a success. I won't dance on a
string for a puppet master.

I'm not like AsH, who spent most of his career cowering to executives.

I'm not like Sinister, using all my old contacts to stay relevant.

I won't be like Tom Landis, who can only do something worthwhile when
it is against someone related to him by marriage. It's pathetic!

[He thumps his chest.]

Cain:  I'm my own man. You can't turn me into has-beens like Rob Cole
or Gabriel Whitecross because I'm ABOVE that! I'm on a whole different
level! I don't need to pretend to be a children's nightmare or some
avenging angel in order to get my point across.

From this point on, what happens to me is of MY design and on MY
terms.

[He gets right into the camera with his eyes still bugging out and now
filling the screen.]

Cain:  And you will never know what to expect from me...

[He throws the microphone and walks away as the gawking crowd is
speechless.]

CL: What has gotten into, Tyson Cain?

FH: I am not sure.  I guess he is taking things to the extreme when we
talk about a new PVW.  Hey, Tyson we said a new PVW, not a new _Tyson
Cain_!

CL: You aren't kidding.  Thing's have gotten back under control at
ring side.  And like Sammy Knight earlier, Caleb Foley was able to
walk to the back on his own accord too.

FH: What a shame.  However there is a strong chance he is backstage
crying.

CL: Fred!

FH: You know it's true!

[Suddenly the jarring shout of Todd Johnstone rings out over the PA
system.]

Johnstone: Okay you dumb *BLEEPS*, it's about time that you all made a
little more room in your lives for the hottest commodity in the
wrestling world today; PVW World Tag Team Champions three times over,
Livestock and the Gutch!

["Breaking the Law" by Judas Priest plays and the team itself enters
the arena to a smattering of boos.  Johnstone, bringing it up the
rear, mocks the fans with applause while imploring they join in.
Livestock and Gutch raise their tag straps high overhead and soak up
the jeers.]

CL: Looks like we're being joined by the tag team champions and their
new manager, Fred.

FH: That's right Chip, with Zeke out of the picture yet again I can't
wait to see what Johnstone can do with this team.

[Climbing into the ring, the trio look around at the booing crowd.
Livestock climbs the second turnbuckle and raises his fists in mock
victory while Gutch presses his fat against the ropes, makes a goofy
face at the camera and shakes his fist.]

Johnstone: Pipe down you *BLEEP* soaked whores!  I'm trying to tell
you about the greatest collection of talent since King Arthur stabbed
that bitch in the pond for her sword and hacked the corners off his
kitchen table!  Take Gibson Hayes, add a pair of big men who know how
to work in that ring and you wind up with a banquet of wrestling
that'll rupture your fat guts!  Once the surgeon sewed you up, you'd
be right back at that banquet too ... we're just that good.

[Glaring out over the crowd, Johnstone looks to the Tag Champs and
receives an apathetic shrug from each.]

Johnstone: As usual I see that you ingrates have yet to learn respect
for your betters.  Fine.  We're not out here for you anyway.  We're
here to announce the NEW NUMBER ONE CONTENDERS FOR THE TAG TEAM
TITLES!

[The boos just get louder.]

Johnstone: And here they are, famous across the globe for their five
star classics in Japan and the United States ... Andy Action and Paul
Packed, collectively known as ACTION PACKED!

[Generic rock music plays as the big man/little man tandem enter the
arena and the crowd gives a mixed reaction.  Some people boo, some
cheer but most just shout in disbelief at what they're seeing.]

CL: What kind of joke is this?

FH: Joke?  C'mon Chip, look at that Paul Packed.  He's the same size
as Livestock and Andy Action is a world-class high flyer.

CL: I don't think these two men have ever won a match in PVW and
they've been here since the day we opened our doors.

Johnstone: Oh, look, here they are now!  Got something to say do you?

[Looking shifty, Andy Action produces a microphone and speaks in a
wooden, flat voice while furtively glancing at something in his off-
hand.]

AA: Yes, I am Andy Action and this is Paul Packed.

PP: WHOO!

AA: And come hell or high water we are going to take those tag team
titles off--

PW: Cut the crap.

[There's a shift in the mood as Preston Winfield enters behind the "#1
contenders".  The people cheer as he shoulders Andy Action aside and
shouts at both members of Action Packed.]

PW: I am not in the mood to put up with this malarkey.  You two jokers
aren't #1 contenders of anything, now get to steppin' before I hand
you both pink slips!

[Action immediately retreats to the back.  Paul Packed glares at the
older man, Winfield, prompting Preston, who had started focusing on
the ring, to turn back to him.]

PW: I know what you're thinking, big man, you're thinking "Preston
isn't gonna fire me" and it's true, I haven't fired anyone ... yet.
Keep hitting me with that bear stare and you're gonna be the example
that everyone looks to when they think about crossing me.

[Backing off slowly, the long-time journeyman leaves the arena as
well, breaking into a run as Winfield turns back to the ring.]

Johnstone: What're you doing?  You've lost your mind!

PW: No sir, I have not.  I have the authority to name _real_ #1
contenders to the Tag Team Title.

Johnstone: The Championship Committee won't let--

PW: The Championship Committee is run as a democracy with debate and
votes.  Your little friend, Zeke Craven, doesn't get a vote Todd.  He
may have snowed enough people to get back on the Committee but
everyone remembers the hostile takeover he spearheaded where SSN
almost took PVW over.  He's not a popular man so you can forget about
help from him.

[Mad cheers for Preston laying the law down!]

PW: You've been running ripshod over the entire league for almost two
years now, boys, and don't think that your new alliance with this
scumbag, Gibson Hayes and the rest of them has flown under our radar.
Quite the contrary.  Now it was a difficult decision to choose a
viable team to challenge you two with the tear you've been on.  Hell,
you even pulled some sort of Three Card Monty on PAIN that I'm not
sure had an ounce of fact in it.  Gutch gets "injured" right after Mal
Practice?  Awful suspect considering that PAIN had just stolen your
return match against Everlasting Hell the week before.

So no more PAIN, no more Everlasting Hell but there was a team with a
win over you in the record books still on the payroll in PVW.  And
here they are...

[Suddenly, "Rock the Casbah" by the Clash starts laying over the PA
System.]

PW: Max and Sal!

FH: Oh no!

CL: It's true!  Right out of the gate these two put one over on the
Tag Champs.  Now with more experience under their belts they could
very well take the titles!

[Johnstone throws a fit up in the ring.  After a moment, Max Weinrib
and Salih Mubarak step out into the arena, wearing street clothes and
carrying microphones of their own. They glare at Livestock, the Gutch,
and Johnstone for a moment until the music dies, when Sal starts
speaking.]


Sal: Max and I are not lawyers. We're not doctors. We're not actors,
policeman, fireman, fashion models, pop idols, plumbers, or sous
chefs. And, as we proved this past week, we can't make wine worth a
damn.

[Pop of laughter from the crowd as Max sheepishly, yet good-naturedly
nods. Sal raises a finger]

Sal: So it's a good thing that we're wrestlers- and damn good ones at
that. [Looking at Max] I remember out first match here in PVW like it
was yesterday. [Max nods] The car broke down, we had to trudge like
three miles in the rain on the highway, nearly got run over about five
times, was so late that thirty seconds after we entered the arena they
shoved us out to start wrestling our first match.

Max: We were physically tired, mentally drained, ticked off about
Sal's car, and completely unprepared for our first match in the PVW
spotlight. And yet, because wrestling is the one thing we do pretty
well, we managed to get a victory- our first one in PVW. It was
fantastic. You guys should have been there.

[Sal smacks himself on the forehead]

Sal: Oh wait! That's right! Livestock and the Gutch- you WERE there.
Remember- you were the team that we beat!

[The crowd cheers, and now it's Livestock and the Gutch's turn to look
non-plussed]

Max: Ever since then, we have wanted that two-on-two match for the PVW
titles you have. Only every time we tried, something came up. Prophets
of Rage, Everlasting Hell, PAIN... it was like fate was conspiring
against us!

Sal: Or a lawyer throwing every motion he can to avoid a guilty
verdict.

Max: No more obstacles, guys. Just you and us for those titles.

Sal: We are not going to be the next tag team that you run out of PVW.

Max: We are going to be the last team you take on before you lose
those belts for good.

Johnstone: Not gonna happen!

Livestock: He's right, you know that, kiddies?

[Stepping forward, Livestock claps a hand on his manager's shoulder.]

Livestock: See, there's a little something that you two may have heard
of while jerking curtains and sitting on the bench in the back.  It's
called "The L&G Curse".

Gutch: Sing it!

Livestock: Let's recap, shall we?

Gutch: Testify!

Livestock: Stop it Gutch.

Gutch: Sorry.  You're like a preacher in church.  It just seemed
appropriate.

Livestock: Yes, well, let's see.  The first team to really cross us,
the Wildcards.

Gutch: Gone!

Livestock: Oh, sure, they had the titles for a brief spurt, but
ultimately we outlasted 'em.  Then there's Team Canada.

Gutch: Deported!

Livestock: To the wrong country.  That's still funny to me.  The
Killing Machines.

Gutch: Gone!

Livestock: Barely a blip on the radar.  Jokers Wild.

Gutch: Broke up and gone!

Livestock: I had hopes for them too.  It's too bad ... what with New
York's new Marriage laws, they might have made it work.  Everlasting
Hell!

Gutch: Broke up!

Livestock: They just couldn't handle the strain of being second to the
best team ever to walk the planet.  I imagine one of them will die
soon.  Their thing just feels like a Greek Tragedy.  PAIN!

Gutch: Forcibly retired!

Livestock: Poor, poor Mal.  Ohno too, but Mal moreso.  Both men bought
into our little charade and, bravo Preston for picking up on it, PAIN
paid the price.  Mal ... poor Mal.  I heard his arm was re-injured at
End Game.  There's a little bit of irony there since his career is
probably at an end.  He is, after all, among the most well-aged men in
the business today.  Hardin and Thunder!

Gutch: Never here!

Livestock: Because they're scared.  I could go on and on all day but
frankly there are so many teams we've run off, kept out, broke up or
just plain broke that it'd take all day.

Gutch: That and we can't remember 'em all.

Livestock: That's just how many there are.  So, from us, the still-to-
be-named new ruling faction of PVW here's a little public service
announcement, just in case you forgot--

[Livestock slaps both Johnstone and Gutch in the shoulder as a
physical cue.]

Livestock/Gutch/Johnstone: You don't get paid unless _we_ get paid!

Livestock: Feels good doesn't it?

Johnstone: *BLEEP* yeah!

[Fans boo as the tag team champions who are all smiles leave the
crowned PVW tag team number one contenders in the cetner of the ring.]

CL: Max and Sal are the crowned number one contenders to the PVW tag
team titles.

FH: What about the Heat?  Didn't they just defeat Max and Sal at End
Game?

CL: They don't have the resume inside the PVW that Max and Sal does.
Actually Max and Sal even hold a victory over Gibson Hayes.

FH: That was due to Midget Holliday's fault!

CL: Either way a tag team win is a tag team win the record books and
this is for the Tag Team Titles after all.

FH: Heat are not going to be happy about this what-so-ever.

CL: Perhaps it's shaping up to be one of our matches for Boiling
Point.

[We cut to a pitch black room.]

V/O: A change is on the horizon ...

[Flash backs of great moments in PVW history.]

V/O: The warriors of yesterday no longer have the power.

[The dimmed light becomes clear and we have the present day highlights
with the new blood in the PVW.]

V/O: The Phoenix has risen ...

The game has ended ...

Dreams have become destiny ...

What you think you know ... You really don't.

And it has all brought us to _BOILING POINT_!

[We fade to the PVW, Boiling Point logo.  Underneath it says -
SEPTEMBER 2011!]

[Solamente Una Vez by Trios los Panchos plays and fans... BOO!]

HD: Ladies and gentlemen ... introducing first, he weighs in at one
hundred and ninety-five pounds and hails from Parts Unknown ... this
is
...


!!! SENŐR CLOAK DOS !!!


[Well maybe not ALL of them but ALOT of them do boo, shockingly! From
the back comes a small, lean but muscular Mexican man wearing a black
mask that covers his whole head. It has cherry colored eye visors and
cherry colored "SCII" on the forehead. He has black tights with cherry
colored boots and a cherry colored hooded cape with the hood pulled up
over his head. He steps out onto the entrance ramp and is taken aback
by the boos.]

FH: Yes! The fans have finally learned and are booing this goof.

CL: Apparently a few of the fans in attendance actually believe that
Senor Cloak Dos was the man who was screaming at Rob Cole.

FH: Of course he was.

CL: Come on, Fred. Even you have to be smarter than that. We all saw
the vicious attack from Christopher Black that had Senor Cloak Dos
taken to the hospital.

[The young luchadore looks around at the angry fans and begins to make
his way towards the ring. He goes to high five some young fans and
they pull away and yell angrily at him. Senor Cloak Dos is surprised
but makes his way to the ring still trying to give out high fives. He
makes his way to the ring, hops onto the ring apron and then grabs the
top rope and leaps into the ring and rolls to his feet and hops onto
the 2nd turnbuckle and strikes a superhero pose.. which draws lots of
Boos! The young luchadore hangs his head sadly then nods his head and
hops down, waiting for his opponent.]

HD: And his opponent ...

[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 rolls under the bottom ropes.]

HD: He weighs in at two hundred and eighty-six pounds and hails from
Huson Valley, New York ... this is ...


!!! OUTCAST ROB COLE !!!


FH: And there's Mr. Delusional himself!

CL: Rob Cole has been know to go off the deep end but at End Game how
could he have even assumed that was Senor Cloak Dos making comments to
him?

FH: It's Rob Cole! I'm surprised he's not talking to himself on the
way to ring.

CL: You mean like William Craven was on Showcase.

FH: What can I say PVW ... it's an asylum.


=========================================

PVW - HEATWAVE - ONE ON ONE MATCH
Senor Cloak Dos v. Rob Cole

=========================================


*DING*DING*DING*


CL: And Cole wastes no time as he rushes at Senor Cloak Dos!

[Cole grabs Cloak by his throat and shoves him into the corner and
just begins to choke the life out of the small luchadore.]

FH: Blatant choke by Rob Cole ... what's he screaming at Dos?

CL: I believe he's asking what his problem with him is.

[The referee begins to put the count on Cole and the Outcast breaks at
the choke at four. Cole raises his hands and before the referee or
Cloak can do anything he goes for another one. Dos though barely ducks
and the grasp of Cole and is able to slide behind him.]

FH: The midget using his speed to his advantage there.

CL: He's not a midget!

FH: How can he not be a midget? He's smaller than most dogs, Chip.

[Cole spins around and lunges at Dos only to get tripped with a drop
toehold. Cloak rolls away placing distance between the two men. Dos
again tries to explain to Cole that he was in the hospital and
couldn't be the one to yell at him but Cole gets back to his feet,
anger etched upon his face and he once again charges the young
luchadore.]

CL: Rob Cole moves in and Senor Cloak takes him over with an armdrag!
Cole is up again, and down with another armdrag!

FH: And he's up again... JEESH!!!

[Cloak goes for another armdrag and Cole suddenly drops to one knee as
the arms hook. He tucks into a roll, taking Senor Cloak with him ...
and
forces the smaller man face down, with the arm still hooked!]

CL: Wow! Amazing reversal from Rob Cole, hooking a Fujiwara armbar on
Senor Cloak Dos and look at him crank that shoulder!

FH: The Outcast is leaning his weight down across the back of the
smaller luchadore, yanking the arm back with a grounding hold designed
to keep Cloak from utilizing those quick takedowns. I don't know if
Craven knocked sense into Cole, but this is smart wrestling from the
usually insane antics of Cole.

[Cole leans back and continues to crank the hold, transitioning one
arm up and over the shoulder as he slides his weight to the side and
kneels. The former champion drapes that arm over one knee. He quickly
reaches down and yanks the chin up... straddling Dos for a half-camel
clutch!]

CL: A well timed transition from the Outcast! Look at him still clutch
the arm with one hand as he yanks the chin with the other... the
luchadore looks like he might be in trouble beneath the learning tree
of Rob Cole! And the referee is checking on Dos, but the proud warrior
refuses to surrender!

FH: And that's just fine with a psycho like Cole ... look at him rise
as he continues to hold the arm and chin! He yanks that arm into a
hammerlock ...

[He releases the chin and suddenly hauls the luchadore up... and drops
him back with a high angle belly to back suplex, the impact driving
the hammerlocked shoulder INTO the mat! As Cole gets back to his feet
Dos grabs his shoulder in pain for a moment as Cole grabs him but the
head pulling him to his feet.]

CL: Rob Cole whips Senor Cloak Dos into the ropes ...
[Cole goes for a clothesline as the masked man rebounds off of the
ropes, but Dos ducks under it. Cloak leaps onto the second rope and
springboards back, twisting himself for a body press but Cole catches
the young man and runs into a corner ramming Dos back first into the
corner. The crowd moans as Dos impacts the corners with authority.]

FH: Dos is like a small doll in the arms of Rob Cole ... who maintains
his grip on the ... what's that Spanglish word for him?

CL: Luchadore and it's not Spanglish.

FH: Whatever.

[Cole holds onto Dos and runs out of the corner and hits a HUGE
powerslam on the small man, who rolls out of the ring holding his
back.]

FH: Outside the ring is the last place you want to be with a man like
Rob Cole.

[The referee is quick to place himself between the ropes and Rob Cole
as Dos continue to holds his back. Rob Cole glares at the referee for
a moment and Dos uses that brief moment to back into the ring. Cole
charges at Dos once again and just bulldozers through the much smaller
man with a shoulderblock. Dos lands hard onto his back and Cole just
begins to stomp on the left shoulder of Dos.]


THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!


[Senor Cloak Dos is able to wrap his right hand around the bottom rope
and the referee orders Cole to lay off Dos. Cole screams WHY!?! at Dos
who just shakes his head at Rob Cole.]

FH: If we could see under that mask I beat we would see pure fear upon
Dos' face.

CL: Who wouldn't be afraid of Rob Cole?

[Cole once again pulls Dos to his feet quickly whips him into the
ropes. Upon rebounding though Dos leaps and twists his body, as he
does so he locks a body scissors around the mid-section of Cole.]

CL: Cloak with a body sciss ...

FH: And Rob Cole just powers him over with a wheelbarrow suplex! Dos
is once again staring at the lights as Rob Cole rolls back to his
feet. This match has been all Rob Cole since the opening bell.

CL: Of course it has been! In the back there were rumors that Senor
Cloak Dos should have missed at last on Heatwave but his warrior
spirit wouldn't let him.

FH: What is it with you? You always say Hartt, Foley, Dos, and AsH
have warrior spirits; just call it what it is a complete lack of
common sense.

[Dos rolls upon the mat grabbing the back of his head as Rob Cole just
looks at the masked man for a brief moment. Cole pulls Dos back to his
feet and drills him with a shoulderbreaker.]

FH: Rob Cole continues the assault on the left shoulder. Dos doesn't
even have a second to check that it's still attached as Cole grabs the
left arm and pulls Dos to his feet and locks on a hammerlock.

CL: Cole with a hammerlock bodyslam on Dos. And you can see the pain
in the eyes of Dos after that move.

FH: Telling you, Chip, if he had common sense he wouldn't be dealing
this tonight.

[Cole pulls Dos up once again.]

CL: And a stiff right forearm beneath the jaw! And another! Rob Cole
is backing the luchadore against the ropes with a series of shots,
pressing him hard against the ropes! He snatches the left arm...
twists into an arm-ringer and shoves some weight... IRISH WHIP!!!

[Cole goes for an Irish whip... but suddenly grabs the top rope with
his right hand and SNAPS on the breaks! Cloak Dos, held by that left
arm, is whiplashed up from the momentum of the whip... and Cole just
yanks him down by that left arm and pancakes the luchadore on the
mat!]

FH: He may have dislocated the shoulder with a move like that... Senor
Cloak Dos is in a world of pain, clutching that left arm close to his
body as Rob Cole moves in and stomps insult in the face of injury.
Another stomp!

CL: Cole is viciously attacking the shoulder of Cloak Dos! Clutching
his own left shoulder, though... we all saw how long he lasted in the
Dead Zone. And now he's attempting to deliver similar punishment to
Cloak Dos... and he drops the knee into the triceps!

FH: And he follows it up with a top wrist lock, elevating Dos and
forcing him to carry Cole's weight across his shoulders as he applies
the hold.

[Cole suddenly surges upward, lifting Senor Cloak Dos with the top
wrist lock, he suddenly wraps one arm around the Dos' waist. Cole
screams out loud and snaps his hips back for a high angle Kobashi
Suplex! The crowd moans from the impact of the move.]

FH: Senor Cloak Dos looks like an accordion on the mat!

CL: Just when I think it can't get any worse for the youngster Cole
delivers a more intense impact move.

[Cole back up to his feet and grabs a hold of the head of Dos slowly
pulling him to his feet. Dos though catches Cole with a sudden
European uppercut and then reaches up grabbing his head.]

CL: Jawbreaker!

FH: Pure desperation, Chip.

CL: Sometimes desperation can turn a match around.

[Cole is back to his feet and Dos kips up and then catches Cole in the
jaw with a dropkick. The impact of the dropkick sends Cole through the
middle rope to the floor, he staggers up to his feet as Senor Cloak
Dos rushes towards the ropes, the flash bulbs begin to pop as he
leaps!!!]

CL: Suicide plancha!!! GOOD LORD!!!

[Collective gasp from the crowd!]

FH: Oh my god!! Rob Cole with a blatant right uppercut across the jaw
that caught Senor Cloak Dos on the way down as he sidestepped the
dive!!!  He was dropped like a sack of potatoes and the paper...
errr... the former World Champion just stares down at the crazy
luchadore!

[The crowd is split after that counter, the amazing aerial display
from the luchadore and the quick, brutal reaction from his opponent.
Cole shakes his knuckles loose, wincing as he reaches down and pulls
Dos up and rolls him back in the ring.]

CL: Cole sliding back into the ring and he goes for the cover.


!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!


!!! THR -- !!!


[The crowd pops in shock as the masked man is able to edge his right
shoulder up.]


FH: I don't believe it!

CL: And neither does Cole as he glares at the referee and slaps the
mat in shock. Dos is still alive here tonight.

FH: For now. Cause Cole is back to his feet and he viciously pulls Dos
back to his feet.

[Cole stands in front of, facing away from and slightly to one side of
Senor Cloak Dos. Cole then reaches behind himself and applies a three-
quarter facelock. Rob Cole then hooks Dos' near leg with his own near
leg and sweeps the leg away, simultaneously throwing himself
backwards.]

CL: And Dos is diving hard into the mat with that three-quarter
facelock Russian legsweep.

FH: Cole slowly back to his feet and look at the look in his eyes. He
just burning a hole through Dos' mask.
[Rob Cole points to the corner and the crowd cheers as Cole begins to
slowly climb the ropes.]

CL: I think Cole could be looking for the World's Ugliest Frogsplash
here.

FH: Is he trying to show Dos that's he not the only one who can fly?

[Dos kips up and rushes forward towards the ropes, he trips Cole as he
ascends to the top rope and the crowd cheers as Dos staggers back into
the ropes himself, showing the effects of the beating has been taking
thus far in the match. Dos back to the corner and he ascends to the
second rope and drives a right hand into the forehead of Cole, a
second one and the crowd takes over the count.]

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

[As Dos winds up again Cole blocks the right hand and grabs Dos'
mask.]

FH: Headbutt from Cole, and a second one. Dos is staggering on the
rope but Cole's grip on his mask keeps him up.

[Cole swings his legs around so his feet are resting on the second
ropes.]

CL: Cole is going for an Avalanche Powerbomb off the top turnbuckle!

[As Dos is pulled up in the powerbomb he grabs the back of Cole's head
and drives a right hand into the forehead. The crowd roars as Dos hits
another right and then pushes himself off maintaining his grip on
Cole's head.]

CL: Say No To Powerbombs!

FH: I told you he was Outlaw Loco!

CL: He's not! But Cloak Dos with a super facebuster on Rob Cole.

[The crowd cheers madly as Dos covers Rob Cole.]



!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



!!! THR -- !!!

CL: And Rob Cole kicks out!

FH: That doesn't surprise me, Chip. What surprises me is that the mask
freak is even still alive after the punishment Cole has dished out!

CL: Dos pulls Cole to his feet and he whips the bigger man into the
far side ropes ... Dos charging right behind Cole.

[As Cole rebounds off of the ropes Dos leaps and catches him with a
flying forearm that sends Cole through the ropes out of the ring. Cole
scrambles to his feet, still reeling a bit from the impact with the
floor, and stumbles near the steps in a corner. Cloak runs off the
ropes and charges towards the corner ...

[FLASH BULBS POP!]

CL: Dos hits a CRAZY Suicide Dive through the turnbuckles in the
corner! He barely missed the ring post and drove himself headfirst
into the chest of Cole sending the former champion crashing into the
guardrail!

FH: My lord! He has no common sense ... NONE!

[Dos grabs his left shoulder and slowly pulls himself to his feet
using the guardrail for support. AS he does a number of fans slap him
on the shoulder. Dos shakes his head slowly as he tries to shake the
cobwebs out of his skull. The referee stares at both men in complete
shock before he slowly begins the ten count.]

FH: Not even the referee can believe his lack of common sense!

[Dos grabs Cole by the head and drags him towards the ring.]

CL: Dos pushing Cole back into the ring and he pulls himself onto the
apron.

[Cole slowly pushes himself to his knees as Dos grabs the top rope and
springboards to the top rope ...]

CL: Springboard leg drop!

[Dos drives his leg into the back of Cole's neck and drives his head
viciously into the mat. Dos rolls Cole over once again and hooks the
far side leg.]



!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



!!! THR -- !!!


FH: And again Rob Cole kicks out!

CL: Dos looks up at the referee and he must be asking himself what
it's going to take to keep him down!

FH: Same exact thing William Craven was asking at End Game and I think
the answer was feet on the rope!

[Dos pulls Cole to his feet and goes for an Irish whip, but Cole slams
on the brakes and catches Dos with a short arm lariat, Cole doesn't
release the grip on Dos' arm and pulls him quickly back to his feet.]

CL: Cole whips Dos into the ropes and he catches him ...

[Cole begins to go for a tilt-a-whirl but Dos catches his legs around
the neck of Cole.]

CL: Dos with a headscissors takeover that sends Cole under the bottom
rope to the floor!

[Dos kips up and stares at Cole, who is quickly back to his feet. The
crowd suddenly buzzes as the monstrous form of William Craven begins
to make his way down the aisle way.]

CL: Here comes William Craven? What could he want?

FH: What else, Chip. To finish Rob Cole once and for all!

CL: Senor Cloak Dos seems too preoccupied with the match to notice the
monster.

FH: doesn't notice him? Dos would have to be blind not to notice a
green man!

[Dos grabs the top rope and uses it to slingshot himself up and over
the top rope, as he does flash bulbs pop throughout the arena again.]

CL: Slingshot body press and Cole and Dos are a heap on the concrete
floor!

FH: Which is bad news for them as Craven is at ringside.

[The referee points a finger at William Craven and begins to scream
for him to leave the ringside area.]

FH: Yeah like pointing your finger is going to do anything to Craven!

[William Craven grabs Senor Cloak Dos by the arm and pulls him to his
feet.]

CL: What? He's helping Senor Cloak Dos up?

FH: Rob Cole isn't delusion ...

[In a fluid motion Craven pulls Dos forward and nearly takes his head
off with a short arm clothesline.]

FH: Nevermind.

[HEEL POP]


*DING*DING*DING*


CL: The referee is calling for the bell and I think Senor Cloak Dos
just picked up a huge victory.

HD: Ladies and gentlemen your winner of the match ...


!!! SENOR CLOAK DOS !!!


[The crowd doesn't seem to hear the Voice's announcement as they
continue to rain boos down upon Craven as he maintains his grip on
Dos' arm and pulls him back to his feet, and the boos get louder as
Christopher Black makes his way half way down the aisle smiling.]

CL: And here's the Television Champion! Things just went from bad to
worse for Cloak Dos.

FH: Craven is bad and Black is worse? I think you might have that
backwards, Chip.


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"


FH: Dos whipped hard into the ringside steps and what on Earth William
Craven is stalking Dos ...

[The crowd explodes as Rob Cole pushes himself back to his feet and
rushes and Craven. He catches the big man from behind with a double
sledge and the crowd erupts as Craven staggers forward.]

CL: Rob Cole going after Craven here! He's showing no fear of the
beast!

[Cole drives another sledge into the back of Craven.]

CL: And still the green man won't fall. But that's not stopping Cole
as he drills the top of Craven's head with a right hand. And a knee
lift to the head sends Craven to the floor!

[The crowd boos loudly as Black comes running down the aisle and
catches Cole behind the knee with a chop block. Black begins to stomp
on the fallen Cole as Dos slides under the bottom rope back into the
ring.]

FH: First time tonight Dos is showing brains as he is getting away
from the action.

[Craven is back to his feet and now the two men are driving boots into
Rob Cole. Dos ascends to the top rope and leaps!]

CL: Flying bodypress and Dos takes Craven down!

FH: Nevermind what I said about the Mexican jumping bean having a
brain!

[Black goes for another stomp but Cole grabs his leg and stands to his
feet. Cole spins Black around and charges ...]

CL: Black dropped with a clothesline! Craven is slowly making his way
back up the aisle as security comes rushing to ringside!

FH: They are making their money here tonight!

[As security floods in between Cole, Dos and Craven and Black; Black
pushes himself back to his feet and walks slowly back up the aisle way
glaring at the masked man. Dos slides back into the ring and leans
over the top rope daring Black to join him in the ring.]

FH: The Television Champion is smart enough not to be goaded into a
fight right now.

[Cole glares at Craven and then turns and faces Dos.]

CL: And Rob Cole is sliding back into the ring ...

FH: The beating is going to continue!

[Rob Cole regards Senor Cloak Dos for a moment, his eyes shadowed with
vicious anger. He turns his back for a moment and pauses, looking down
at the floor before spinning to face Dos again. He steps forward ...
and offers his hand? The camera moves in closer, and Rob Cole speaks
to Dos, "I was wrong ... I'm sorry." He continues to hold his hand
out, waiting for Dos. Dos looks at the hand of Rob Cole for a moment
longer and accepts the handshake to a huge ovation from the crowd.]

CL: And it seems Rob Cole has realized the truth!

FH: And to think this match had so much promise.

[Christopher Black holds his PVW TV Championship up as if he is
bragging to Senor Cloak Dos.  William Craven holds his hands up from
the security momentarily agreeing to back up the aisle way.  Craven
and Black turn towards each other for a moment then turn back to the
center of the ring where Cloak and Cole stand raising one another's
arms to a huge POP!]

CL: Senor Cloak Dos and Rob Cole standing united in the center of the
ring and Christopher Black isn't happy at all!

FH: Don't mess with the Bad Wolf and the Motor City Madman!

CL: Tonight has been chaotic ... PVW may have to beef up their
security team if this _new_ PVW is going to bring such disorder.

[The camera cuts to Spectre, standing with a slight smile on his pale
face as his cold blue eyes stare unblinkingly into the camera while
surrounded by arena security.]

"Do we have your attention?"

[He pauses, then nods, glancing sideways at the personnel surrounding
him.]

"We warned you...we warned you that we would leave a path of
destruction in our wake upon our return.  We warned you that The Beast
would be loosed upon all who stood in our way.  Tonight friend Marcus
and little Samuel both learned this the hard way...

Little Samuel earned friend Marcus's anger...stirred the long dormant
beast of the Misery Machine by mentioning his dearly departed
Corin...peeling back the scabs off of those all-too-familiar wounds
inflicted by years of self flagellation.  He directed his ire at
us...but proved he was unequal to the task.

You were warned, PVW.

You were warned, little Samuel.

You were warned, friend Marcus.

It only gets worse from here...our sights have been set and our
destination has been set.

We will take the belts one by one, leaving a trail of bodies, broken
and baptized in pain...and the only thing any of you can do about it
is learn why you need Fear the Dark."

[Fade as the guards once again drag Spectre from the arena.]

CL: Chilling words from Spectre.

FH: I wouldn't want to be Sammy Knight right about now.

CL: What about Marcus Manson?

FH: He is a big boy ... He may be able to survive the rebirth ... But
Sammy Knight?  No chance ...

CL: Well you can bet that Sammy Knight is ready to send a message to
the big goth ... That is if the PVW allows him _back_ into the arena
after tonight.

FH: PVW likes ratings ... The Spectre brings ratings.  Why do you
think he was brought back in the firth place, Chip?  Have you seen his
DVD sales?

CL: You have a point there, Fred.  Wait I think that is the second
time I have said that tonight.

FH: I have brought my "A" game tonight, Chip.

CL: Dean Hayes is making his way down the aisle way with a microphone.

FH: Who invited him?

"Swinging" Dean Hayes: Ladies and gentlemen please welcome at this
time to the ring, the PVW American Champion, Herscher von Donkerhardt.

[HUGE CROWD POP]

["I Remember" by Low starts playing over the sound system of the
arena. From the entrance way emerges Herscher von Donkerhardt.
Herscher is wearing a grey trenchcoat with matching grey suit, white
shirt and orange tie. Hersher has the PVW American Title draped over
his right shoulder. Herscher walks down the aisle slapping the
outreached hands of many of the fans in attendance. As Herscher comes
closer, the bandages on his forehead and bruises on his face are more
noticeable. Herscher enters the ringside area, climbs the ringsteps
and climbs into the ring. Herscher enters the ring and shakes hands
with Dean Hayes.]

SDH: Herscher your match with Marcus Manson was quite a violent and
bloody spectacle. The only feat more remarkable than winning the match
was still being alive at the end. Manson was obviously trying to take
your title, and your career in that match with the savage assault he
unleashed upon you. Despite the assault, you managed to survive with
your title still in hand, which leads me to the following questions:
How did you beat Manson, and what is your current health condition?

HvD: First off, thank you for this time to address you and the fans of
PVW. The match with Manson did nothing to assist in the recovery from
my injuries. My doctors have told me that I should take some time off
to let my body recover if I still wish to continue on as a wrestler.
They also told me I should consider a new career move if I want to
continue on walking and living.

[Scattered boos from the crowd]

HvD: While I would like to take time off, I have a responsibility to
both PVW and its fans to defend this title against all challengers. I
have worked too hard and suffered too much just to hand over the title
without a fight. Manson wanted to make our match my last match ever.
If I took time off, and had to vacate this title, that would be giving
Manson what he wanted. As you Americans say, there was no chance in
hell I was going to give him the satisfaction!

[HUGE CROWD POP]

HvD: As for my match with Manson, I beat him by doing what I do best,
execute a strategy of technical wrestling heavy on the submission
based maneuvers that I have learned and honed through my career.
Manson is a bully and a thug and was less interested in wrestling me
than he was in crippling or perhaps killing me in this ring. But I did
the one thing a bully can't stand, I stood up to him. I took quite a
beating in the process, but I endured him and let my technical game
take over and eventually subdue him. Manson has hurt me quite badly,
but I told Manson that fighting me face to face was a lot different
than his sneak attacks, and that I would walk in and leave that ring
as champion no matter what, and I did just that!

[HUGE CROWD POP!]

HvD! HvD! HvD! HvD! HvD!

HvD! HvD! HvD! HvD! HvD!

HvD! HvD! HvD! HvD! HvD!

[Dean waits for the fans' chanting to die down before beginning to
speak again.]

SDH: You definitely played to your strengths with your technical
ability. You are a great technical wrestler Herscher, and your
nickname of The Netherlands Submission Machine has been well earned.
There are some, like the "Wrestling Observer," who say you are the
greatest technical wrestler in PVW today and maybe even the world.

HvD (lets out a small laugh): Well, that's quite the compliment Dean.
I'm not sure how to respond to that. I don't know if I would call
myself any of those things. All I can do is make a case for that by
continuing to have great matches against the best PVW has to offer.
Maybe then-

[Mass Hysteria's "Failles" abruptly interrupts the PVW American
Champion, and the crowd erupts in boos when "Deathless" Perry Fontana,
cloaked under the hood of his flame-colored boxer's robe, quickly
stomps his way down to the ring, up the steps and through the ropes.
"Il Eterno" bumps into Dean Hayes, stomps by HvD then rolls out of the
other side of the ring to pick up his own microphone from the time
keeper's table. The entrance theme fade out, and only the fans'
deafening boos remain while the "King of Armbars" rolls back into the
ring.]

Fontana: Alright, Dean. You can get off your knees and wipe off your
_chin_. And you, Donkerhardt, you can zip up those monotone, meatball
pants back up.  That figurative _fellatio_ was too FOUL for
television. Aaaah OUAIS!

[The crowd takes immediate offense to the insult, but Herscher von
Donkerhardt remains cool as a cucumber.]

Fontana: All that modesty would only fool people if they actually
thought it was _sincere_. You knew that this spineless little
pantywaist of an interviewer would _fawn_ all over you when you got
here, and listening to you _fishing_ for more unwarranted COMPLIMENTS
is more than _anyone_ should endure, COUSIN!

[HEEL POP!]

Fontana: Rest assured I'm not here to pretend I don't think I'm the
BEST submission artist in the world, HvD, so don't pretend you don't
believe the very same thing.

SDH: Well...

Fontana: Ta gueule, p'tit con!

[HEEL POP!]

Fontana: I'm the best in the world, cousin, not _you_. And as far as I
know, there's only one way to _settle_ this kind of debate, HvD.

[The Deathless One peels back the hood of his red and orange boxer's
robe, revealing his gigantic muttonchops, all of the healing cuts that
riddle his face and forehead, and the look of unbridled intensity in
his dark, encircled eyes...]

Fontana: All I need is one gilded belt on the line, one zebra striped
referee, one _ring_, and one _Dutch_ MEATBALL~!

[Dean Hayes hands HvD his microphone.]

HvD(looks at Fontana and smirks): So you must be the one called Perry
Fontana. I've heard about you and now that I've seen you, I'm still
finding it hard not break out into fits of laughter.

[Crowd pops~! ...though Fontana doesn't even blink.]

HvD: That was a joke, Perry, I know its hard for you to tell. The
Dutch have a rather stiff demeanor. I could be a little more
expressive, especially if I'm angry, but trust me, you don't want to
see me angry.

[CROWD POPS]

HvD: So you feel you have something to prove. You wish to be known as
the best in the world, and the PVW American Champion while you're at
it. You come out here and challenge me in front of these people and
you expect me to answer yes? Well I will give you an answer. The
answer is NO!

[POP of shock and disbelief! Fontana's taken aback, to say the least,
maybe even offended!]

HvD: I could agree to your challenge, but why put myself through that.
Why would I put myself in the position of preparing for a title
defence AND looking behind my back to see if you're looking to sneak
attack me and soften me up before we get in the ring. Manson tried
that and he nearly ended my career, that will not be happening again!
Go ahead and call yourself the best in the world. You can put yourself
on a pedestal, but you will not climb that pedestal with my help. You
and I will not be having a title match!

[HEEL POP... for Herscher?]

HvD: ....Unless...

[Small anticipation face pop]

HvD: Unless you agree to sign a restraining order. IF you want a match
with me, you can't attack me during my matches, in the locker room, or
anywhere else. You can't lay a hand on me until we step in the ring.
If you want to play, then you are going to have to play by this
"meatball's" rules. You can accept and agree to these conditions or,
as the Americans say, you are [TV EDIT] out of luck....

[FACE POP]

[Herscher goes nose to nose with Fontana.]

HvD: ...COUSIN!

[HUGE FACE POP!]

[Fontana furrows his brows, narrows his jet black eyes, purses his
thin lips... and lets out a rictus, and then lightly scoffs. Smirking,
he shakes his head and turns back to face HvD.]

Fontana: You don't seem to understand what I _want_. I don't want that
match tonight, Herscher. I'm not interested in shooting down lame
ducks, cousin, and I'm NOT interested in _taming_ toothless LIONS!

[He smiles, greed lighting his eyes.]

Fontana: I'm interested in _defeating_ the best MAN you can be,
cousin! I want you _fit_ as a FIDDLE! Aaaah OUAIS! So I don't mind
signing you a little _restraining_ order, Dutchman. If it HELPS you,
I'll even _sign_ you a nice little get well card with windmills and
clog-wearing kittens!

[BOOS]

Fontana: But don't _confuse_ me with Manson, cousin. I don't beat
cripples, Herscher. I beat _men_ in their PRIME, aaah OUAIS~!  So I'll
sign your restraining order, so long as doctors agree that you're back
at one _hundred_ percent before you face me. I want you to be
_healthier_ than a FRUIT salad, ouais.

[Fontana edges in closer to HvD.]

Fontana: Because unlike Manson, I don't want to end your life. I don't
even want to end your career.  I only want to _end_ your REIGN,
cousin, aaah OUAIS!

[The Everlasting One backs away, and slips in between the ropes.
Standing on the apron, he turns towards HvD with a mirthless smirk.]

Fontana: What I _do_ want to kill... is your claim to what is _mine_
and MINE alone;

...the _title_ of "World's Top Technician."

["Il Eterno" drops off the apron, flips the hood of his robe back over
his head and stomps his way back up the aisle, aloof to the jeering
fans.]

HvD: Tell YOURSELF whatever you _want_. When the TIME comes you _will
find out just _how- TOOTHLESS this _Lion_ is. Aaah OUAIS!

[FACE POP]

[Herscher smiles as he finishes mocking Fontana. This produces a small
chuckle within the crowd. Fontana ignores it, not even bothering to
turn around.]

CL: I don't know when this match will happen, but if it does it should
be a contest to remember! Two of the most proficient wrestlers facing
off, and for the PVW American Championship, no less?

FH: BAH! This "contest" should not be for the American Championship at
all, seeing as there are no Americans involved in the match! At least,
Fontana's American by marriage, but still... foreigners have no
business holding that title. Someone please strip that euro-trash gimp
of the belt!

CL: The PVW American title for the PVW Americans, Sieg Heil!

FH: And what is that supposed to mean?

CL: It means lets get ready to call the next match, Fred.

FH: We only have one match left!

CL: Wait ... You are right.  How time flys when you are having fun.

FH: Or when have your roster is getting looked at by the PVW doctors!

["Something Wicked" by Nuclear Assault hits the PA system as the fans
give the legend a huge POP.]

HD: Introducing first ... Wrestling out of Oxfordshire, United
Kingdom.  Weighing in at 267 pounds.

The Era of Defiance ...

Gabriel Whitecross !!!

[Whitecross has a compact, well defined build and he has long grey
hair, that is tied back into a ponytail. His stands in the entrance
way and slowly reaches up and rubs his trimmed goatee.

He is stripped to the waist, while black denim jeans and short white
boots adorn his lower extremities.  His fingers are always heavily
taped, and thick black leather supports encircle his wrists to a point
just below his elbow. A white metal legbrace covers his right knee.

He begins heading down the aisle way slapping the hands of the crowd
as he makes his way to the PVW ring to make is wrestling debut.]

CL: Whitecross made his PVW debut at End Game as he officiated the PVW
World Heavyweight Championship match.  He wasn't happy how the night
ended and he is here to dish out a little justice for our World
Heavyweight Champion.

FH: Good luck.  Maybe ten years ago when, Gabriel Whitecross was
relevant.  It's  now, Gibson Hayes time!

CL: I have no doubt that Whitecross can still go inside that ring.

FH: We are about to find out.  It's time to put up or shut up.

HD: His partner ... wrestling out of San Francisco, California!

[HUGE CALI - POP!]

... Weighing in at 265 pounds.  He is your Supreme Champion of the
_universe_.

Your Hero ...

Danny Daniels !!!

[The lights go down again, and someone steps from the back.  It is...
a trumpeter? The trumpeter blasts a bombastic little fanfare on his
trumpet, and a banner unfurls from the top  of the entranceway.  It
reads: WELCOME YOUR SUPEREM CHAMPION... and NEXT PVW PRESIDENT!!!  And
yes, it does have three exclamation points.

Following the fanfare, "Believe It Or Not", the theme song from the
Greatest American Hero, starts up.  The fans give a loud face pop for
the over-the-top introduction of the self-professed SUPREME Champion,
"Your Hero" Danny Daniels.  Daniels bursts from behind the welcome
banner, arms spread to soak in all of the glory of his imaginary
legions of fans.  The bulky young man with the straggly blond hair
wears a red sequined jacket with 'Your Hero' written on the back in
black, red trunks, and black boots.

Around his waist is a belt with the words SUPREME CHAMPION and an
embossed picture of Daniels on the faceplate. A pair of wraparound
shades inhabit his clean-shaven face, as does a big goofy smile
representing his joy at being so exulted by the fans.]

CL: Listen to the California fans, Fred.  They _love_ Danny Daniels.

FH: They are ruining what was a _good_ thing for me.  And they have
gotten into the mind of our _once_ great hero.  He has fallen the ways
of the evil Sinestro.  I will have a beer for our once noble and
fallen hero tonight, Chip.

[Daniels sweeps down to the ring, shaking hands with fans on both
sides of the aisle, and handing out 'DD for PRESIDENT!"  balloons.
He jumps onto the apron, and climbs the ropes on the outside.  He gets
to the top rope... and seems to grow a little disoriented by the
height, so he steps back down to the second rope and THEN poses
grandly for the crowd.  His music dies away shortly.]

CL: Look at Whitecross.  He isn't sure what to think about all of
this.

FH: They don't have excitement like this in the United Kingdom, Chip.

[And we cut to a loud drum roll throughout the arena and immediately
kicks into "Hail to the Chief" which is met with a negative reaction
from the crowd.]

FH: And here is our _real_ president, Chip.

HD: And their opponents ... Introducing first wrestling out of,
Hollywood, California.

[Even the Cali fans boo Johnny Detson!]

... Weighing in at 248 pounds.  Mr. Hollywood, The Blockbuster, PVW's
CEO and President for _life_, and now Mr. Called Shot.

Johnny Detson!

[More Boo's as Johnny Detson emerges from the back with the PVW Called
Shot briefcase in tote.  He continues to head down the aisle way as he
stops in front of a sign that reads - "I want to see, Johnny Detson's
birth certificate.

He grabs the sign and orders a near by PVW employee to remove it from
the arena.  He then turns and continues to make his way down to ring
side.]

CL: Johnny Detson apparently trying to cover something up.

FH: Nothing to see, Chip ... Nothing to see.

[And here comes the ruckus. Eliot Lipp's "Rap Tight" (
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=puunw6YEHIA if you want to listen)
kicks up, getting the true believers in a frenzy.]

CL: And will you listen to those boos.

FH: All I hear is a bunch of anti-American propaganda.

FROM TUSCALOOSA, ALABAMA... WEIGHING IN AT TWO-HUNDRED TWENTY THREE
POUNDS...


GIB-SON SUCKS

GIB-SON SUCKS

GIB-SON SUCKS


   ...HE IS THE ONLY DOUBLE CHAMPION IN PHOENIX VALLEY WRESTLING
   HISTORY...


[BOOOOO!]


       ...HE IS THE LONGEST REIGNING CHAMPION IN PHOENIX VALLEY
       WRESTLING HISTORY...


[BOOOOOOOOOO!]


           ...HE IS AMERICA'S ONLY HOPE FOR A BRIGHT AND BETTER
           TOMORROW...


[SERIOUSLYWHOWROTETHISCRAPBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!]


              ...HE ENDED THE CAREERS OF DOC HOLLIDAY AND RICK MARLEY

[HUGE BOOS!


		...HE IS THE ONLY TRIPLE CROWN WINNER IN PVW HISTORY

[SHUT UP ALREADY~!]


		  ...HE IS THE PVW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION

[DEAR GOD, SHUT UP]

			...THIS IS GIBSON HAYES!

[...and out steps our PVW World Heavyweight Champion, Gibson Hayes
with, Todd Johnstone at his side.  The fans fill the arena with
massive boo's proving that he is the most hated man in the wrestling
industry.  The duo slowly make their way down the aisle way as Gibson
Hayes leans back making sure everyone notices the golden championship
title around his waist.]

CL: Look at the smile across, Gibson Hayes face.

FH: He is the top guy in our industry today, Chip.  He has held every
PVW singles championship title ... And he now has an entourage of the
PVW tag team champions and Uncle Frank.   Dare I say he is the most
untouchable man alive!

[And both Detson and Hayes step out ot the ring apron as if they are
going to begin the match on the ring apron as Gabriel Whitecross is
set to start things off for the other side.]

CL: It appears we have a disagreement on who is going to start the
match off for Hayes and Detson.

FH: Both men are held in the highest standards.  It's a respect
factor, Chip.

[Detson is heard arguing that he is the "boss" and Mr. Called Shot.
While Gibson Hayes is heard arguing that he is an, American Icon and
the World Heavyweight Champion.  PVW's head official, Duke Martin
doesn't look amused as he begins to "count" both men out of the ring
... The only problem is neither man _cares_.]


=========================================

PVW - HEATWAVE - TAG TEAM MAIN EVENT
Whitecross & Daniels v. Detson & Hayes

=========================================


*DING*DING*DING*


CL: Duke Martin is counting and Detson and Hayes just stand on the
side of the apron shrugging and smiling.

FH: They are more important then this little exhibition match with
Whitecross and Daniels.

CL: This is an official PVW Main Event, Fred.

FH: And Detson and Hayes are paid to sell PPV's!

[Detson and Hayes turn towards the fans who are booing the two heels
now.  Whitecross has walked behind the two men who stand on the ring
apron.  The boo's turn to cheers and Detson and Hayes nod thinking the
fans finally support their decision.  However Whitecross grab both
heads and _SLAM_ them together.

HGUE POP!]

CL: WHITECROSS HAS JUST SLAMMED THE PVW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION
_AND_ PVW CALLED SHOT AND NUMBER ONE CONTENDER INTO EACH OTHER!

FH: He _CAN'T_ do that!

[... And he didn't stop there. He grabbed Johnny Detson and sent him
over the top ropes and into the ring.  He went to grab the dazed
Gibson Hayes and send him inside the ring too, but Hayes has dropped
off to the outside.]

CL: And I guess it's Johnny Detson who will start things off with
Gabriel Whitecross.  And look at Danny Daniels he is loving it on the
outside.

FH: That was a HUGE mistake!

[Detson stumbles up and Whitecross lifts Detson from behind and slams
him front first into the mat.]


"___THUUUUD___"


CL: Whitecross isn't wasting any time firing the fans up.


DETSON - SUCKS !!!   DETSON - SUCKS !!!   DETSON - SUCKS !!!


FH: These Stockton fans should have more respect for one of their own!

[Gibson Hayes has now hopped back up on the ring apron and reaches
through trying to encourage his partner.]

FH: Look at Gibson Hayes.  He wants in the ring to teach Whitecross a
lesson.

CL: I am sure he will get his chance.

[Whitecross helps Detson back to his feet and locks on a full nelson
from behind.  Detson shakes his head "no" just before Whitecross drops
him down with a legsweep faceslam.]


"___SNAAAAP___"


[POP!]


CL: And again, Johnny Detson has been planted down face first in this
early going.  It appears the sudden assault by Gabriel Whitecross has
taken our Mr. Called Shot by surprise and he is in some trouble in the
early going here.

FH: The referee should call a time out and allow this match to start
_correctly_.

[Whitecross now with a side headlock and he tags in his anxious
awaiting partner, Danny Daniels who gets a home state POP.]

CL: Danny Daniels is loved here by the Stockton crowd.   And he dives
a hoot in the rib area of Johnny Detson.

FH: Big mistake, Double Dan.

[And Daniels with a double axe-handle over the mid-back of Johnny
Detson. Daniels with a big European uppercut and Mr. Called Shot
falls through the middle ropes and to the outside.  Todd Johnstone is
giving Duke Martin an earful saying it's his job to referee not drive
the match.]

CL: And Gibson Hayes is across the ring mocking, Gabriel Whitecross by
mimicking the injuries of Rick Marley and Doc Holliday.

FH: Hayes is just telling it how it is.  He is the most dangerous man
in professional wrestling.  Gabriel Whitecross better watch out.

CL: Danny Daniels is breaking up the count by rolling to the outside
where Johnny Detson is now reaching his feet.  And Detson rakes the
face of Daniels slowing things down!

FH: A Presidential message right there, Chip.

[Detson then drops down hitting the Supreme Champion with a jaw
breaker.  Detson still shaking off the quick onslaught grabs the back
of Daniels head and slams it down on the ring apron and then rolls him
back inside the ring.]

CL: Detson using those free few seconds to hash out a strategy and he
now has the upper hand.  Detson has returned inside the ring and he is
headed towards his partner to tag in the World Heavyweight Champion.

FH: It's go time!

[ ... The only problem is, Gibson Hayes has no interest tagging in the
match.  And an argument erupts!  Todd Johnstone now right there and
he is telling Detson to respect, Gibson Hayes!]

CL: It appears that Detson and Hayes aren't on the same page.

FH: Nothing to worry about.  They are both just trying to allow the
other one to get the glory.

[... And Daniels from behind with a roll up!]




!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


!!! THR --- !!!




[SO CLOSE POP!]


CL: Daniels almost pinned Detson right there!  Detson kicks out and
right back up and headbutt by Daniels!  Down goes Detson!

FH: This isn't turning out very well.  What disrespect on, Johnny
Detson appreciation night!

[Daniels feeling the applause by the crowd and he begins to climb the
ropes ... But stops on the second turnbuckle.  He turns and leaps with
a diving headbutt from the second rope  ...]


"___THUUUUUUD___"


[TOODLES~ POP!]




!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


!!! THREE !!!


[POP!]




CL: DETSON'S FOOT WAS ON THE BOTTOM ROPES!

[Duke Martin waves off the cover as Gibson Hayes shouts out from the
outside, "Come on even Masked Maniac can do better then that!"]

CL: Daniels now turns to his corner and retags in, Gabriel Whitecross.
Whitecross and Daniels working well as team here tonight.

FH: Detson standing toe-to-toe with _both_ men.

[Whitecross rushes in and drops Detson with a hard right.  He then
turns and knocks the PVW World Heavyweight Champion off with a hard
right sending him off the ring apron!]

FH: Hey!  He can't do that.

CL: Whitecross sends Detson hard into the corner with a powerwhip.
Detson bounces out and Whitecross sends him across with another!
Whitecross not slowing down hits a _third_!

[The series of Powerwhips culminate in a high impact Spear
Tackle/fists to the face combination.]


[GO GET HIM WHITECROSS POP!]


CL: Todd Johnstone now up on the ring apron ... WHITECROSS HITS HIM
WITH A HARD RIGHT AND DOWN GOES THE ROD!

FH: What the heck is going on here!

[The fans roar as Johnstone rolls on his back like he just got shot in
the side of the face.  Gibson Hayes drops down to check on his manager
leaving, Johnny Detson once again alone for his team who  has stumbled
to his corner looking for a hot tag.]

CL: Hayes checking on his manager has left, Johnny Detson alone and no
where to turn ... This has turned out to be a _great_ Johnny Detson
appreciation night I must admit!

FH: Terrible ... just terrible, Chip!

[Whitecross behind with a belly-to-back ....]


"___THUUUD___"


CL: Whitecross rolling into a second one!


"___THUUUD___"


... AND A THIRD ONE!


"___THUUUUUUUD___"


[POP!]

CL: A series of Rolling German Suplexes!  Whitecross turns and hits
the ropes ...

[BOOOO!]

[Hayes who was on the outside "checking" on Johnstone tripped
Whitecross slowing him down.]

FH: There we go!

CL: How nice of, Gibson Hayes to participate in the match here
tonight.

FH: Gibson Hayes chooses to do what he wants to do, when he wants to
do it.

CL: Apparently.

[Whitecross holding onto that right knee brace as he landed right on
it.  Detson using the ropes to make it to his feet and notices that
Whitecross is down holding that knee brace.  Like a hungry Jackal he
begins stomping away on that knee.]

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

CL: And Detson is stomping away like a mad man.

FH: You can only disrespect the boss for so long.  Eventually you are
going to pay for it.

[Now smelling blood and a chink in the armor of the Era of Defiance.
Detson grabs that right leg and swings it around locking on a classic
figure four leg lock.]

CL: Detson has some how regained his senses and has, Gabriel
Whitecross locked in a figure four leg lock!

FH: What a good boss.  On the biggest night ever for PVW he sacrificed
his body for ratings.  He could have done this in the first minute,
but what good would have that done?

[Whitecross fighting off the pain.  Gibson Hayes is right there in his
ear ... Nobody can hear what he is saying ... And PVW camera crew has
obviously been ordered to zoom out in times like this when it comes to
Johnstone and Hayes ... But we can only imagine what, Gabriel
Whitecross is enduring.]

CL: Gibson Hayes adding insult to injury.

FH: He is only telling him what the world already knows.  That Johnny
Detson is twice the wrestler then he is.

CL: I have to think that would be mild for Gibson Hayes.

FH: Hey atleast it's not, Todd Johnstone.

CL: I will agree with you on that.

[Finally Whitecross makes it to the ropes and Duke Martin is right
there demanding that, Johnny Detson breaks the hold ... The only
problem is that Detson is ignoring him.]

CL: Duke Martin is telling him to break the hold ...  Wait what is,
Gibson Hayes doing?

FH: Teaching Whitecross a lesson of respect.

[Hayes has rolled under the ropes and he begins stomping away on
Whitecross as Detson continues to hold the figure four lock tight.]

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

[HUGE POP!]

CL: Duke Martin just GOT right in front of the PVW World Heavyweight
Champion!

FH: When did, Duke grow a pair?

[And Detson has let go of the hold but while the distraction was going
on he began choking Whitecross with the bottom ropes.  However the
Supreme Champion has been forgotten about standing on the opposite
ring apron.  He has entered the ring and grabbed a hold of the CEO and
PVW President for life ...  Grabbed Detson in a sleeper hold, then
hoists him  over the top rope, hanging him with his hangman sleeper
... This time the fans are loving it!]

CL: HANGMAN SLEEPER AND DUKE IS STILL BEING DISTRACTED BY GIBSON
HAYES!

FH: This is a travesty!

[Whitecross recovering but still favoring the onslaught.  He grabs a
hold of Gibson Hayes and nails him with a huge right hand ... He
swings and nails him with a second ... a third ... and a forth sends
him up and over the top ropes to the outside as the fans are going
wild!]

CL: Out goes Gibson Hayes!  And Daniels has let go of Detson as Duke
Martin turned around.

[The fans go wild as Gibson Hayes on the outside has grabbed his PVW
World Heavyweight Championship and he starts walking up the aisle way
waving off the mess ring side.]

FH: Gibson Hayes doesn't need this disrespect!

CL: And he is leaving Detson all alone.

FH: Wait your right.

[Daniels has returned to the ring apron as Whitecross tags him in
"legally" now.  Danny Daniels now sets Johnny Detson up and he lands
his exploder euplex for the second ropes!]


[HEROPLEX BABY!!!!]




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!




[ROARING TAKE THAT DETSON POP!]


CL: DANNY DANIELS HAS DONE IT!  HE HAS PINNED JOHNNY DETSON ON, JOHNNY
DETSON APPRICIATION NIGHT!

FH: This is horrible!  This can't be tolerated!

[Daniels and Whitecross now both stand in the center of the ring and
Duke Martin raises their hands as, Herk Douglas can he heard.]

HD: The winners of the match ... The team of, Gabriel Whitecross and
Danny Daniels !!!


[ROARING POP!]


CL: Folks what a night it was.  Things started out with Danny Daniels
informing, Johnny Detson that he was running for his PVW presidency
and he cemented that message when he pinned him in the center of the
ring.

FH: It didn't count!  Gibson Hayes wasn't able to get involved and
teach these two a lesson.

CL: Gibson Hayes _CHOSE_ not too.  And you can bet both of these two
just made a strong statement towards the PVW World Heavyweight
Champion.

FH: Gibson Hayes welcomes _all_ challengers.

CL: We are running out of time.  Tonight a message was sent.  PVW
respected warriors like Rob Cole, Sammy Knight, AsH, Caleb Foley,
Senor Cloak Dos, Sinister, Max and Sal, Gabriel Whitecross, Tom
Landis, Danny Daniels, and so many more are not going to take it any
more.  It's a new era around here ... Shenanigan's like what Johnny
Detson and Gibson Hayes attempted to do here tonight isn't going to
work any longer.  We will see you next week folks!



========================================================
NOTE: SPECIAL THANKS TO THOSE WHO CHIPPED IN THIS WEEK.
========================================================