[The camera moves towards the dimly lit locker room, where the
flickering glow of candles casts an eerie dance of shadows along the
walls.  A voice echoes through the room, a quiet chant of summoning as
a figure stands with his back to the door... hands grasped before
him.]

Man: Hastur... hastur... cthullu... Forgive me, father, for I have
sinned, I will sin, I consume it, swallow it, and bathe in it.  I am
the sin of my father, the sin of my mother; I am an affront to your
grace and a condemnation of your mercy.  Forgive me my trespasses, for
I have not been able to forgive myself... and I pray that the
suffering comes to an end.  I am not forsaken, and I feel your love
within me and my will and resolve is strengthened for it.  Amen.

[The man turns, and we see Rob Cole bathed in the sickening madness of
candlelight.  His hands are grasped before him, holding a bottle of
whiskey beneath his chin, clasped like a holy cross in reverence to
the spirits within... the bottle is full, to the brim, the scent
rising beneath his nose as he breathes in deeply and his lips twist
into the disgust.  He turns his gaze to the camera and sits down,
chuckling a bit as he regards the fans of the PVW.]

RC: One more drop.  One more drip on my tongue, another taste of
glory, another swallow of pride and all the things that make me into
the man I’ve become.  Maybe its blood, or sweat, or liquid fire that
drives me through another day, pushes me through the filth of doubt
and self-loathing.  Condemnation for my sins, atonement for my
trespass, call it what you will and believe what you must... I have
allowed myself to be plunged into darkness, I have played into the
game and I have lost one round in a bitter war.  I've lost because of
who I am, because of what I've done, and because I've allowed myself
to become tied to an image of the Monster Beneath the Bed.  It's
ironic... it was just a slogan that sells shirts, a line that strikes
fear, and a promise that has built a legend.  It's the answer to a
question, kiddo. The key to the riddle of my own hatred. It’s what I
hate the most about you, Spectre... it’s how you remind me of who I
am, what I’ve done, and all the worst traits I’ve carried with me
through the years of touring this business. It’s how you’re throwing
away your life because you want to dive head long into that dark black
sea... to raise the island, to walk amongst the stones of R'Leigh, to
wake the Old One, to call his name and urge him to rise... hastur!
Hastur!!! HASTUR!!!!  I used to do the same damn thing when I was a
hell of a lot younger.  Before the mass of scar tissue road mapped my
career across my back, around my abdomen, in my chest, and etched the
memories on my face... before all of this, I was a simple guy trying
to make a living to support his wife and the future family I hoped to
have.  And things got knocked off track.  The choice between sanity
and understanding... the urge to understand, to comprehend, to deliver
myself to madness and darkness and willing stand in the face of that
dark abyss.

[Cole lifts the bottle, but stops before taking a drink... he lowers
it and stares into it’s contents once more, swishing them around
before he continues to speak.]

RC: I fought for the sake of fighting... for the sake of hurting other
people that had hurt me.  I found acceptance as a monster, a demon, a
creature of blood and rage and fury.  Some people called me a "hero"
and other people cast me as the villain, for ten long years I built
one moniker after another until someone started tagging on "Legend" to
all those other clever little names they saddled me with.  I beat the
people who hurt me... I tormented the people who had left me for dead,
stood when everyone else expected me to fall, and I became a champion
over and over again.  I held the baubles, I set the bar, and I drew
the line in the sand for one man or beast after the other... and I
took on every single person that stepped in my path.  I never looked
back until now, Spectre... never looked at how I grew, how I left so
much behind and picked up so much more.  Most people accept the past,
they accept the people they were or they forget, but most people don’t
find themselves staring dead eye to dead eye with a spitting image of
their past.

[Cole raises his eyes, staring into the camera.]

RC: Are /you/ afraid of the dark?  You’ve asked us all that question a
few times, and maybe you answered it for yourself... or maybe you’re
just not ready to face the dark and you prefer to throw other people
in ahead of you.  Maybe you sacraficed Lassiter in your stead, perhaps
you hope I'll please those dark Gods, or maybe you want to feed them
poor little Caleb Foley.  It doesn't matter what reasons you have,
kiddo... it doesn't matter why you kneal in awe to the absence of
light.  I already told you the honest truth. I am honestly terrified.
I’m horrified.  Darkness is an absence of light and that is something
the world is in a terrible short supply of, Spectre.  I’ve seen my
life without my wife, without my son, without the titles or the
accolades, and I’ve tried to drown that vision with liquid fire.  I’ve
tried to wash away the fear with the contents of this bottle, tried to
chase it down with my own tears, and swallow my hurt with a taste of
self-loathing.  You reminded me where I came from, kiddo... a bad
place with lots of hurt, lots of pain, and lots of anger. You’re
everything I despise in myself... you’re the anger, the rage, the
bloodlust, the joy in pain, the love of agony, the thrill of
suffering.

[Cole looks down, stares into the contents of the bottle and rises
from his seat.  He swishes the liquid around for a moment... and then
his fingers loosen, and the bottle drops to the floor with a smash and
those eyes return to the camera, lit by a fire within.]

RC: But you aren’t me.  You aren’t who I was, you aren’t who I am, and
you’re not what I will become... you’re a pale shadow, an imitation, a
false image of fear set before the eyes of man to let them see the
worst within themselves.  You play with fear, you play with the dark,
you play with violence, but those aren’t the things that define you...
"play" defines you, kiddo.  The play of a child, the play of a little
boy who never had anyone to show him the difference between "right"
and "wrong"... the play of a toddler who hasn’t learned what happens
when you touch a hot stove.   I am not your father... nothing of me is
inside of you, no matter how sickened I become by our few
similarities.  For the past several months, you have seen the Monster
that so many people have feared through the years... you’ve seen him
broken, you’ve seen him beaten, and you’ve the monster fall.

[Cole smiles... hungrily licking his chops, he rolls his neck and
breathes in deeply through his nose, catching a scent on the wind as
his lips peel back from clenched teeth.  His eyes become feral as he
stares into the camera.]

RC: One more drop, but the alcohol doesn’t burn deep enough.  One more
drip, but the taste of gold is not STRONG enough!  One more swallow,
the hungry gulp of a pint of blood!  YOUR BLOOD!!!! Because as much as
I hate the part of me I see in you, I love the part of me that is not
in you... the part that gets up again and again and again... the part
that can actually comprehend the suffering, the pain, and the heart
ache that is borne from the lives we lead!  The part that understands
the dychotomy between pain and joy, hate and love, fear and courage.
The part that knows enough to actually be disgusted, to actually carry
RIGHTEOUS fury, the part that rises above your petty thirst for evil
and darkness.  It’s the part of me I found again when I stopped
looking at the bottom of that bottle, when Chris Hartt showed me the
light in the dark... it’s the part of me I found when I turned my gaze
from hell to heaven, the part I found beyond the monster, beyond the
Legend, and deep within the Man.  SO I HAVE A QUESTION FOR YOU!!!!!!

[Cole chuckles, his eyes wild and hysterical as he steps forward and
stares deep into the camera.  He angles his head a bit, furrows his
brows, looks a little confused as he licks his lips and finally asks
his question... ]

RC: Too much blood, OR NOT ENOUGH?!??!!!!  Don’t answer it yet,
Spectre... I didn’t drink any.  I didn’t lap your viscera from the
mat, didn’t let it drip down my throat, didn’t let it splash against
my face or dip my fingers in the red pools you have placed before the
alter to your gods of pain, to your sacrifice of horror... I didn’t
start the feast just yet, my "friend"... haven’t even had a taste.
But when they strap us together, when they play those drums in
summoning to the Beast, when the bell rings and I drag you from one
corner to the next and force you to open a gash, force you to spill
your life, force you to bleed and bleed and bleed... I want you to
remember my question, remember how I asked, remember that you brought
yourself before me and you demanded to see the monster rise.  Remember
me when you question Cthullu in your dreams, remember me when you
question Dagon for the purpose of his gold, remember me when you stand
before all that is old and dark and scary in your world of nightmares
and shadows.... YOU SUMMONED ME!!!! YOU DID IT!!!!!  Too much blood?
Or not enough?

[Cole begins to laugh, throwing his head back as he begins to cackle
and the camera retreats from the locker room.... His laughter echoing
through the halls.]

[We are backstage at the 52nd Street Armory.  The backstage agents and
employees are just getting ready for the big night.]

Road Agent: It's almost show time guys!

[Joe Mama's Pizza Boy arrives with a stack of Pizza.]

Pizza Boy: Where would you like these?

Road Agent: Pizza tonight eh?  Oh well stack them on those tables over
there.

[There is around six boxes stacked high as the Pizza boy walks them
over laying them out on the table.  With office food the first on the
scene is no other than Jonathan Monarch.  He glares at the Pizza Boy
then down at the meat lovers Pie calling his name.  It only takes
another ten seconds and the tag team champion snatches up the box and
heads back to his locker room.]

Pizza Boy: You're welcome...

Road Agent: Don't get in the way of Monarch and food buddy.

[Other passing employees and PVW wrestlers like Hippo Higgins, Masked
Maniac, Jimmy Lane, Gideon Frost, and others are seen grabbing a slice
before the show begins...]

Phoenix Valley Wrestling and Strickland Sports Network presents....


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^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^


#LET IT GO#

[The PVW Heatwave logo sits proudly as 'Breaking me down' by Soil
begins to play as the logo explodes -]

#How far will a falling star take me#
#How far can I go can I go#
#Gotta be what the#
#nightmare made me#
#Gotta be gotta be what I see#
#Jump Clear of the#
#falling parts from me#
#How far will they go will they go#
#Can't give what you need#
#from me baby#
#Just let it go#

[As the words pour out there is an overhead shot of the PVW ring
sitting in the center of the 52nd Street Armory.  We begin to shoot
through various action clips.  Outlaw takes off running and dives
through the ropes.  OmniFly with a Full Nelson Suplex.  Derek Rage
with a a lifting clawhold slam. Caleb Foley with a picture perfect 450
Splash off the top ropes.]

#Bringing me down#
#break me down sweet sugar#
#Bringing me down break me down#
#Breaking me down#
#to the ground sweet baby#
#Breaking me down to the ground#

[The Clips continue as Chris Hartt locks on the Avenger Lock. Major
Damage has some poor sap up in the Thunder Melter. Rob Cole leaps off
the top ropes with the Worlds Ugliest Frost Splash. Livestock lifts
his opponent up and drops him with a big suplex as The Gutch comes off
the ropes and flattens their opponent with a big splash.]

#Too much is made of what's in me#
#Not enough about how I strive#
#Keep an eye on your world#
#it's cheating#
#Keep an eye keep an eye on me#
#Deep inside there's a little place for me#
#A little place for me#
#Can't give what you#
#want from me baby#
#Just leave it be#

[We cut to RJ Souza and Chris Hartt standing as Destiny Souza holds up
her hands begging them, no.  Johnathan Monarch has his opponent into a
Bear Hug squeezing the life from him. The Mercenary stands in the
aisle way giving the throat slashing sign. 'Black' Jack Baldwin with a
Gorilla Press Backbreaker.]

#Bringing me down#
#break me down sweet sugar#
#Bringing me down break me down#
#Breaking me down#
#to the ground sweet baby#
#Breaking me down to the ground#

[The beat continues to crank out as high impact spots hit the screen.
'Wild Fire' Shawn Covell leaps into a Shooting Star Press. The Wildman
Shadoe Rage with a top ropes moonsault. Urban Legend member,  Stalker
leaps into a Bronco Buster. RJ Souza with a Karma Kick out of
nowhere.]

#Sweet razor wound#
#Deep downslice my groove#
#Sweet razor wound#
#Deep down C'mon and slice it#

[We cut to 'The One' Brian Young walking down the aisle way slapping
the fans hands. Paul Styles locks on the deadly figure four.  Rick
Marley with a Waistlift Powerbomb.  outlaw with a tornado DDT.]

#How far did the falling star#
#take me#
#How far did I go did I go#
#Had to be what#
#the nightmare made me#
#Fuck,..Just had to be#
#Jump clear of the#
#falling parts from me#
#how far did they go did they go#
#Can't give what you want#
#from me baby#
#Hell,..Just let it go#

[As the song comes to it's last round. Caleb Foley stands with his
hand raised proudly.  Major Damage has Rick Marley up in the Thunder
Melter and slams him down on the ring steps.  Spectre with a picture
perfect Fisherman's Buster Piledriver.  Rob Cole with an Cast-Out
Powerbomb.  Chase Williams  with a Supernatural Driver.]




"__KAAAABBBOOOOOOM~!__"




"__KAAAABBBOOOOOOM~!__"




"__FAAASSSHHHOOOOM~!__"




"__KAAAABBBOOOOOOM~!__"




"__KAAAABBBOOOOOOM~!__"




[Red, yellow, and white fire works shoot from the turnbuckles as the
fans rise to their feet in excitement.  The PVW ring sits in the
center of 52nd street armory as the Phoenix displays proudly across
the mat.  An addition to the PVW logo circled by the Phoenix is the
SSN logo to the ring.

As the excitement dies down we cut to ring side where the two men who
bring color to Heatwave stand.  On the right is the smooth operator,
Chip Lester.  He stands calmly dressed in his black sports coat.
Standing next to him is the half balding self proclaimed king of the
golf course, 'Putter' Preston Winfield.

The "Mega Agent" Paul Sandler stands in the middle of the ring as the
lights come up from the show introduction. He's dressed in a black,
pin stripped suit, white shirt and black tie. You can tell he's a bit
nervous as he brings the microphone up to his lips.]

CL: Okay I guess this is how the night will start off.

PW: It's better then listening to your same song and dance every
HeatWave.

Paul Sandler: As you saw this week, RJ broke in to my office, demanded
I meet him here to start the show. RJ, I stand here, demanding you
bring your sorry.....

"A Little Bit More Attitude"

["Mad, Mad World" by 7A3 plays as RJ walks out to the ring to a mixed
reaction. He's wearing a black pair of wrestling boots, Black jean
shorts and his trademark Ray-Ban sunglasses. RJ brings his old friend
"Louisville" to the ring with him. Some fans loved the way RJ started
to break away from Paul Sandler. Some are still skeptical.  Paul
Sandler backs away as RJ slides under the ring. RJ holds up his bat to
Paul to get a reaction out of him.]

RJ Souza: You mind repeating what you were about to say about my
sorry..... what?

Paul Sandler: Now, I know how to press your buttons, RJ. I just needed
to get this show on the road.

RJ Souza: For what? Oh.... You want me to get this over with as quick
as possible huh?? Last week, I heard Chris Hartt talk about a few
things before I attacked him. It didn't quite sink in until after the
show what he was talking about, But the light bulb is on, Paul. Let me
tell you something.......

Paul Sandler: No hold on. We have worked together for years RJ. I been
your PR man. I have taken roles off camera. I have made sure you and
Destiny have plenty of the green stuff. Now, you want to kill the
golden goose because of some mistakes??  You been a mid-carder at best
in the competitive feds you been in. Now you think it's a good idea to
say what is on your mind....

RJ Souza: Yeah, I think I do, Paul. GET OUT OF THE RING!! I DON'T NEED
YOU!!!

[The fans go nuts as they see the shock on Paul's face.]

Paul Sandler: But....

RJ Souza: Did I stutter?? LEAVE!!!

[Paul slips between the ropes and down the ringside steps. He stands
at ringside as RJ keeps talking.]

RJ Souza: I need to thank Chris. I owe you big time. I have been so
blind about the things going on around me. I watched as Rome burned
around me. I hurt people I care about. I made enemies out of the fans,
my wife and a friend with nothing but good intentions. I will not go
one more day living a lie like this. I need forgives and redemption.

RJ Souza: Tonight, I want to WRESTLE the match. I am tired of the
cheating that goes on in the ring. The brute savagery that has plagued
our battles, the lies turned by some sick pervert... I want it all to
end.

RJ Souza: I want you to know how I feel face to face. Chris, can you
come out here please.

[Chris Harrt's theme plays...but a midget that looks like Hartt comes
running out to the ring. Paul Sandler starts to laugh as RJ looks at
the little person in disbelief.  "Mini-Hartt" tries to jump up and
slide into the ring, but can't quite make it. Paul Sandler has to run
over and pick him up.  The "Mini Hartt" runs up to RJ...and then kicks
RJ in the shin. "Mini-Hartt" runs and cowards in the corner, as RJ
starts to speak.]

RJ Souza: What's wrong, Chris? Half the man you used to be??

[Paul Sandler is laughing while the crowd continues to boo at RJ's
fake change.]

RJ Souza: You called me a puppet, but right now, I bet I can pull your
strings now, huh?? Hey Paul. Make the puppet dance....

[Paul kicks "Mini Hartt" around  and the midget starts to dance around
the ring. RJ is laughing so hard, he can not control himself.]

RJ Souza: I know destiny could nerve want to sleep with you....she
doesn't like it "Short"!!

Female Voice: Stop this, right now!!!

[In a nice red  dress comes Destiny Souza. She's holding a
microphone.]

Destiny Souza: I don't know who you think you are, but let me get your
head on right. You never came to see me.  I don't blame you for that.
I was hit by your baseball bat.  I don't blame you for that. What I do
blame you for is the way you lied, cheated and exploited Chris for
your
own good. That leech has you all messed up. I don't care how it has to
happen. I just want my husband back.

RJ Souza: You sure? With all that time you spend in Chris Hartt's
corner, I would not be surprised to know something is going on.

Destiny Souza: Do you really think that I would destroy what we had to
be with your best friend? I would never want to hurt you like that
ever. It is killing me to watch you call him a cheat and me a slut. I
love YOU. I want YOU. What do I need to do to prove that??

Paul Sandler: What you need to do?? Look at RJ for a second. He has
everything he wants. He's got fame, money and respect. He did it
knowing it was all him. He didn't need you to make his trail. What you
need to do is find a good attorney. When you get home, you will been
served. RJ wants a divorce!!

[Destiny is a first shocked and then starts to cry. She leaves to the
backstage area. RJ starts to leave when Paul Sandler grabs him by the
shoulder.]

Paul Sandler: Trust me, you will thank me when this is all over.

[The  duo leave the ring as the show gets it's start]

CL: An unexpected visit from Destiny Souza as her husband and friend,
Chris Hartt are set to go at it for a second time in tonight's main
event.

PW: But they say she's just a friend...

CL: Okay we aren't going to have Preston Winfield sing Bizmarky
tonight....

PW: It's better then listening to Chris Hartt tell us about how he is
just Destiny's friend.

CL: Well folks we don't have our usual time to run through the lineup
since Paul Sandler and RJ Souza came out here so let's just hop right
into things!

HD: In our opening bout this contest is scheduled for one fall..
Introducing first...   From Sapporo, Japan and Tucson, Arizona....


Here Is the Team of ...


THE DRAGON KID

AND ...


THE TUCSON KID !!!




[The Emperor's Song blasts over the PA System as gong sounds go off,
and suddenly the lights flash green and gold as from out of the back
runs the popular rookie sensation, The Dragon Kid! The fans go wild
and stepping out from behind him is his partner, The Tucson Kid!

Dragon Kid, Wearing a dragon mask over his yelling face, the man in
the white wrestling tights with green fringes running down the side
bullets his way towards the ring.  The Tucson Kid wears sky-blue
tights, with a light-beige trim that bears a red pattern reminiscent
of Southwestern design motifs. To the ring, he also wears a tan
leather 'western'-style poncho, with frilled edges and an Arizona Sun
logo emblazoned on the back.  A red bandana adorns his head, and
electrical tape is wrapped about the wrists and hands.  Blue-and-white
'eagle'-motif boots (the sort that were often worn by Barry Windham or
Dusty Rhodes way back when) complete his attire.


The Dragon Kid throws up a tanned arm to the sky as his international
fan base clap their hands enthusiastically. The Kid Combo slide under
the ropes and leap on opposite turnbuckles tossing up their arms to a
roar of cheers.]

CL: These two have the fans on their feet in our first match right
here in HeatWave.

PW: Not for long.

HD: Their opponents... Accompanied to the ring by Pizzazz Elysee...
Weighing at a combined
weight of five hundred and seventy three pounds...


Shadoe Rage and Derek Rage


Here is....


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 out
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. His
partner, Derek Rage strides out from behind the curtains.  He wears a
boxer's robe with the hood up over his head.  He looks like a giant
Grim Reaper. The two are joined by Pizzazz Elysee as they head down
the ring.]

CL: The Prophets of Rage have been embodied inside a massive war with
The Urban Legend.  It's expected those two teams will lock horns and
settle their feud once and for all at End Game, but here tonight they
have quite a challenge...

PW: I wouldn't call it that.  This is nothing more then a warm up
match for The Prophets.



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

	Tag Team, 20 Minutes Time Limit:
	The Tucson Kid & Dragon Kid
	v. The Prophets of Rage

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



<<<  DING DING   >>>


CL: And we're underway folks!  And Shadoe Rage and The Dragon Kid are
starting out this match.  And immediately, Shadoe Rage takes advantage
with a boot to the midsection a nails a Snap Suplex!

[Shadoe Rage nails The Dragon Kid with a boot and a Snap Suplex to
start things up.  He makes his way back to his feet as soon as
possible and waits for The Dragon Kid.  As The Dragon Kid stands, he
is greeted with and elbow to the head and then a Bulldog.]

CL: Shadoe Rage is immediately going to work here on The Dragon Kid in
this one...

[Shadoe Rage throws his arm over The Dragon Kid and makes the
cover...]





ONE ...





TWO ...





KICKOUT !!!




CL: It looks like The Prophets of Rage want to get this match over
quick. They've already went for the cover but only got two.

PW: Wouldn't you if you were facing a bunch of rookies...

[Shadoe Rage hops up and bring The Dragon Kid with him.  He shoves The
Dragon Kid's head into the turnbuckle time after time and tags out to
his partner, Derek Rage. Derek Rage goes up top as Shadoe Rage pulls
The Dragon Kid away from the turnbuckle. Derek Rage jumps and drills
The Dragon Kid upside the head with a double axe handle.]

CL: And the big man comes crashing down across The Dragon Kid's skull
with that move.

PW: What a move!

CL: Big freaking deal. It was just a double axe handle...

PW: But did you see the impact on Dragon Kid's skull...

[Derek Rage quickly picks The Dragon Kid up and whips him into the
ropes.  On the comeback, Derek Rage attempts a clothesline but The
Dragon Kid ducks it!  As he bounces off the ropes, Tucson Kid extends
his hand for a tag and, and as The Dragon Kid comes back at Derek
Rage, The Dragon Kid drills the big man with a dropkick to the
knee...]

CL: Dropkick to the knee by The Dragon Kid and here comes Tucson
Kid.....

[The Tucson Kid tries to pick up Derek Rage for a piledriver but he is
too big and Tucson Kid is having difficult. Then Dragon Kid helps the
Tucson Kid pick up Derek Rage and Tucson Kid just drove Derek Rage's
head into the mat with a piledriver.]

CL: LISTEN TO THIS CROWD ERRUPT!!!

[The crowd is on their feet as Derek Rage's skull bounces off the mat
from Tucson Kid's piledriver.  Wasting no time, Tucson Kid picks Derek
Rage up and drills him with a series of stinging knife edge chops
before placing him up against the ropes.  Derek Rage is quickly taken
for a ride by The Tucson Kid and, as Derek Rage comes back, he is met
with a huge lariat from Tucson Kid.]

PW: That didn't knock down Derek Rage.

[With Derek Rage wobbly, Tucson Kid tags The Dragon Kid back in and
The Dragon Kid suddenly climbs to the top rope...]

CL: The Dragon Kid's going to fly.....YES HE DOES!  He just nailed
Derek Rage with a beautiful high flying cross body and here's the pin!




ONE ...




TWO ...




KICKOUT !!!



[However, Derek Rage kicks out at two and a half as Tucson Kid leaves
the ring for The Dragon Kid to do his work.  Now in control, The
Dragon Kid picks the big Derek Rage Derek Rage up and immediately
sends a stiff kick into Derek Rage's left leg.  As Derek Rage holds
his leg in pain, The Dragon Kid grabs the opportunity by bouncing off
the ropes and DRILLING Derek Rage with a beautiful scissor kick to the
back of the neck.]

CL: Preston, I know you don't care for the team of Dragon Kid and
Tucson Kid but you have to admit they are showing great teamwork.

PW: I don't have to agree with that!  I can still hold out for a
sniper in the crowd.

[Still in control, The Dragon Kid grabs Derek Rage and places him back
on his feet. After nailing him with a vicious knife edge chop, The
Dragon Kid once again whips Derek Rage into the ropes.  However, this
time Derek Rage just brushes away a dropkick by The Dragon Kid and,
when The Dragon Kid gets back up, he is nearly leveled by a lariat
from the big Derek Rage!!!]

PW: WHOA!  Derek Rage just got back into this match and The Dragon Kid
paid dearly for it!

[Derek Rage immediately makes the tag to Shadoe Rage who instantly
goes to the top rope.  As The Dragon Kid stumbles to his feet, Shadoe
Rage flies off the top rope with a beautiful missile dropkick to The
Dragon Kid's back and, in the process, makes it look easy.  With The
Dragon Kid down, Shadoe Rage quickly bounces himself off the ropes and
drives a lightning quick leg-drop across The Dragon Kid's throat
before going for the pin...]




ONE ...




TWO ...




SHOULDER UP !!!




CL: Shadoe Rage almost had The Dragon Kid on that one.  It was just
that close.

[Now in control of the match, Shadoe Rage picks The Dragon Kid up and
proceeds to drive a European uppercut into his face in order to stun
him.  With The Dragon Kid stunned, Shadoe Rage grabs him and gives him
another snap suplex right across the middle of the ring...]

CL: Man!  Shadoe Rage can throw a mean snap suplex on you.  I've never
seen one that quick and that stiff before

[With Shadoe Rage still in control of the match, Pizzazz Elysee is
taunting the fans on the outside of the ring.  However, Shadoe Rage
picks The Dragon Kid back up and sends him darting into the ropes.
Somehow, though, The Dragon Kid regains his composure and jumps over
the ropes and to the apron...]

CL: The Dragon Kid's on the apron and he's taunting Shadoe Rage!
OOH!!!  Shadoe Rage just rushed in at The Dragon Kid and got caught
with a hotshot right across the ring ropes!

[The Dragon Kid is now back in the match as he drops Shadoe Rage right
across the ring
ropes and pulls him to the outside.  With the referee starting his
count, The Dragon Kid picks Shadoe Rage up and sends him flying into
the steel ring post and, as Shadoe Rage stumbles back, The Dragon Kid
pushes him back into the ring post for round two...]

CL: Shadoe Rage just got a double taste of some cold hard steel in
that one!

[This time, The Dragon Kid grabs Shadoe Rage and tosses him back into
the ring.  Once The Dragon Kid gets back in, he immediately tags in
Tucson Kid and the crowd erupts.  As Tucson Kid enters the ring, he
picks Shadoe Rage up and tosses him into the ropes.  On the comeback,
Shadoe Rage's world is rocked as Tucson Kid plants both boot right
into Shadoe Rage's face with a dropkick.]

CL: Tucson Kid is large and in charge and there's the cover!




ONE ...





TWO ...




[Somehow, though, Shadoe Rage kicks out.  Tucson Kid, though, doesn't
let this distract him one bit as he picks Shadoe Rage up and rocks him
with a thunderous forearm shot to the face.  With Shadoe Rage stunned,
Tucson Kid grabs him and...]

CL: Here comes a Powerbomb form the Tucson Kid!!

[As Tucson Kid begins his powerbomb, Shadoe Rage somehow manages to
lift his legs
up and...]

PW: SAMURAI DRIVER!  SAMURAI DRIVER!  SHADOE RAGE COUNTERED THE
POWERBOM!!!

[The crowd is rocking as Tucson Kid falls to the mat from the DDT off
of the Samurai Driver.  Derek Rage is now extending his hand as far as
he can for Shadoe Rage who is crawling to his corner with all his
might....He finally reaches the corner and, as Derek Rage is tagged
in.]

CL: AND HERE COMES THE BIG BAD RAGE BROTHER!

PW: DEREK RAGE IS IN THE RING AND HE MEANS BUSINESS!!!

[Derek Rage, working on complete intensity, grabs Tucson Kid up and
clocks him with a stiff forearm across the face before whipping him
into the ropes.  On the comeback, Derek Rage punts Tucson Kid in the
heart with a kick before grabbing him by the hair, jumping up, and
planting him with a huge facebuster.  From there, Derek Rage goes for
the pin...]

PW: DEREK RAGE COULD HAVE HIM WITH THIS ONE!





ONE ...





TWO ...




KICKOUT !!!




[Derek Rage, still intense and fired up, is now drilling Tucson Kid
with stiff kicks to the ribs and midsection as he is still down on the
mat.  Derek Rage, apparently done with that onslaught, now brings
Tucson Kid to his feet where he....]

CL: I don't believe it!  Derek Rage has Tucson Kid up for a
tombstone!!!!

[As Derek Rage is about to plant Tucson Kid with the tombstone, The
Dragon Kid gets the crowd pumping as he JUMPS OFF THE TOP ROPE AND
DROPKICKS TUCSON KID IN THE BACK...THUS LETTING HIS PARTNER COVER
DEREK RAGE!!!]





ONE ...





TWO ...




CL: What a double team by The Kids as they almost scored the upset win
in this one.

[Both men now get up at the same time and, when they do Derek Rage
attempts to club Tucson Kid with another fist but Tucson Kid blocks it
and rocks Derek Rage with one of his own.  Tucson Kid quickly pushes
Derek Rage into the ropes and, as he comes back, Derek Rage is sent
down to the mat with a hurricanrana from the Tucson Kid...]

CL: The tides have turned once again in this match and now Tucson Kid
is tagging in The Dragon Kid!

[As Derek Rage lies on the mat, The Dragon Kid climbs to the top rope
and....]

CL: THERE'S THE 450 DEGREE LEG DROP FROM THE DRAGON KID!  HE'S GOING
FOR THE PIN AND IT COULD ALL BE OVER HERE!!!!





ONE ...




TWO ...





THREE ???






CL: NO!  DEREK RAGE GOT A FOOT ON THE ROPE!  THIS ONE IS STILL GOING
ON FOLKS!!!

[The Dragon Kid can't believe Derek Rage got out of the 450 Degree
Leg-Drop but it doesn't stop him from continuing his offensive.  The
Dragon Kid now brings Derek Rage to the turnbuckle corner where...]

CL: The Dragon Kid grabs Derek Rage....TORNADO DDT BY THE DRAGON
KID!!!  THERE'S THE COVER!!!





ONE ...





TWO ...





[Suddenly, though, Shadoe Rage runs into the ring and pulls The Dragon
Kid off of Derek Rage.  Before The Dragon Kid can get Shadoe Rage,
though, Shadoe Rage is back on the outside and Derek Rage is starting
to get to his feet...]

PW: Smart thinking by Shadoe Rage because when The Dragon Kid turns
around, he's going to be in for a rude awakening!

[Naturally, as The Dragon Kid turns around, Derek Rage nearly takes
his head off with a lightning quick and stiff as hell lariat.  Derek
Rage immediately tags in Shadoe Rage who instantly climbs back to the
top rope.  As Shadoe Rage gets his footing right, the crowd is amazed
as...]

CL: CORKSCREW MOONSAULT BY SHADOE RAGE!

PW: THIS ONE SHOULD BE OVER WITH THAT!




ONE ...





TWO ...





THREE ???





CL: NO!  INCHES AWAY!  SHADOE RAGE WAS INCHES AWAY!

[Shadoe Rage is a bit irate that the pin didn't occur as he pulls The
Dragon Kid up and drills him with another stiff forearm to the face.
Wasting no time, Shadoe Rage picks The Dragon Kid up and whips him
into the ropes.  However, The Dragon Kid reverses it and, when Shadoe
Rage comes back, he is sent flying into the air and over the top
rope!!!]

CL: Shadoe Rage just landed hard on the concrete but when he went
down, he bumped into Pizzazz Elysee!!  And Pizzazz Elysee doesn't look
too happy at Shadoe Rage at the moment right now!

[On the outside, Pizzazz Elysee is verbally bashing Shadoe Rage while
the referee is quick to warn the young lady to immediately stop what
she is doing.  The Dragon Kid has now gone out the opposite set of
ropes, to get some breath obviously, and is making his way over to the
commotion.]

CL: Shadoe Rage is now up and Pizzazz Elysee is still chewing him out!

PW: What is this girl thinking?  Shadoe Rage is in no mood right now
to deal with this.

[The Referee is THIS close to ejecting Pizzazz Elysee when The Dragon
Kid comes over to the scene.  Suddenly, Pizzazz Elysee gets fed up
with the scene and revs back for a slap on Shadoe Rage but...]

PW: WHOA!

CL: SHDOE RAGE DUCKED AND RACHEL POPPED THE DRAGON KID IN THE FACE!!!!

PW: IT WAS A SET UP ALL ALONG.

[Suddenly, after seeing this, Tucson Kid is quickly on the scene to
try and straighten this out but, from behind, Derek Rage comes up and
immediately takes him down while Shadoe Rage begins to put the boots
to back of the head of the Tucson Kid. Meanwhile Derek Rage has
grabbed The Dragon Kid and thrown him back inside the ring.]

PW: This doesn't look good for the Dragon Kid.

[Derek Rage steps over the top ropes as Dragon Kid bounces off the
ropes and delivers a dropkick to Derek Rage which sends him stumbling
back. Dragon Kid bounces off the ropes again and does a second
dropkick to Derek Rage which sends Derek Rage into the corner. Back on
the outside of the ring Shadoe Rage goes to Irish whips Tucson Kid
into the guardrail but Tucson Kid reverses it and Shadoe Rage goes
into the guardrail instead. Dragon Kid is seen running toward Derek
Kid and goes for a splash but Derek Rage catches Dragon Kid in mid air
and Derek Rage delivers a powerbomb into an overhead toss and
clothesline on the top ropes...]

PW: THE BOMBSHELL. HE HIT THE BOMBSHELL. THIS MATCH IS OVER.

[Dragon Kid is laying on the mat grabbing at his throat as Derek Rage
walks over to him and covers Dragon Kid...]




ONE ...




TWO ...





THREE ???




PW: I told you the Prophets of Rage would make short work of these two
Kids...

CL: A great showing by both these up and comers in the Tucson Kid and
Dragon Kid.

HD: THE WINNERS OF THE MATCH THE TEAM OF DEREK RAGE AND SHADOE RAGE
THEY ARE THE PROPHETS OF RAGE!!!

CL: The Prophets continue to flat out dominate the tag team division.
They are set to get their final match with Urban Legend at End Game.
You can bet they are motivated.

PW: The second greatest tag team in not only the PVW, but the world
after Royal Family.

CL: Hat's off to the Kid combination.  This was their first time
tagging together and they came in here and not only excited the crowd,
but nearly upset the most dominated team maybe in professional
wrestling history.

[As the ring clears, Abruptly, the house lights strobe as a voice is
heard to speak a line from the movie Lord of Illusion.]

#"Are you ready ... for my wisdom?"#

[The quick, harsh guitar pickings of "Suite Pee" by System of a Down
start blasting over the Loudspeaker.  Then, the lyrics begin.  The
lead man's voice, harsh and fast, cuts quick to the point.]

#I HAD AN OUT OF BODY EXPERIENCE, THE OTHER DAY, HER NAME WAS JE-SUS,#

#AND FOR HER EVERYONE CRIED, EVERYONE CRIED, EVERYONE CRIED.#

#TRY HER PHILOSOPHY, TRY HER PHILOSOPHY, TRY HER PHILOSOPHY, TRY.#

#YOU DIE FOR HER PHILOSOPHY, DIE FOR HER PHILOSOPHY, DIE HER PHILOSPHY
DIE.#

[Emerging from the back comes a lawyer, but not just any lawyer!  It's
PVW's very own head legal eagle; Broderick Ezekiel Craven.  The neck-
braced, suited briefcase chucker raises his arms abruptly, grinning
like a cheshire cat, causing the strobing to stop, then starts walking
down the aisle towards the ring.]

#CROSSED AND TERRORED RAVAGES OF ARCHITECTURE, LEND ME THY BLADES,#

#WE'RE CROSSED AND TERRORED RAVAGES OF ARCHITECTURE, HOIST AROUND THE
SPADE.#

[Walking up the ringsteps, Zeke ducks inside and quickly places his
briefcase on the top turnbuckle, opens it, and finds a microphone
inside.]


#LIE NAKED ON THE FLOOR AND LET THE MESSIAH GO THROUGH OUR SOULS,#

#LIE NAKED ON THE FLOOR AND LET THE MESSIAH GO ALL THROUGH OUR SOULS,#

[With a gesture, Zeke terminates the music.]

Zeke: Well then.  Hello.  Like my theme music?  It's what I used in
the '90s...

[A few scattered boos hit poor Zeke, who is clearly deeply hurt by
them ... not.]

Zeke: Anywho, I bet you've all been chomping at the bit to figure out
exactly where your dear old uncle Zeke's been.  I'll tell you.  C'mon.
Come closer.

[Leaning in and beckoning toward the camera, Zeke continues to smile,
his red, white-streaked beard bristling with anticipation.]

Zeke: I've been reading.  Researching, really.  You see, as the
announcers have all noted, my team, Livestock Zappa and Gutch
Bartilucci came very near indeed to taking home the Tag Team titles.
Oh, I was so upset with them.  Those boys had the deck stacked like
it's never been stacked before.  I wrote the contract for them, and it
couldn't have been any more perfect if God himself had written it ...
as a matter of fact, maybe he did.

    It would certainly explain my inspiration.  First, place them
    "randomly" in the latest position in the match not already
    claimed.  Second, the body slam clause.  After all, with that
    surprise, only they would be ready for it.  Just grab yourself a
    whiny little generic egotist, and let 'im spin while avoiding
    Shamu "even my bones are fat" Monarch.  I mean, how hard is it to
    avoid a man whose love handles scrape the sides of the barn door?
    Am I right, people?

[Laughter, and no boos this time.  After all, he's talking trash about
the Royal Family.]

Zeke: On further reflection, I decided that it's a good thing they
lost.  After all, the first champion of anything exists for one reason
and one reason only: to lose.

    So, basically, at this point, it's only a matter of time.  Poor
    Paul Styles with his delusions of grandeur, aloof, detached
    manner, and stupid face, the mask he sometimes wears and his
    partner the Blob, er, Johnny "the Blob" Monarch (many apologies
    there John) are going to fall.  Hopefully John on top of Paul.
    That way it's two sewer rats down the drain instead of just one.
    Remember people, this is a lawyer talking, which means those guys
    must be REALLY bad.

[More laughter from the crowd.  Wow, Zeke's really got 'em eating out
of his hand.]

Zeke: That being said, here's _my_ pitch for their replacements to be
... Livestock and the Gutch.

[Less laughter.  We're back to scattered boos.]

Zeke: This is good.  I mean.  It's so good, it makes me wanna rip this
stupid thing off.

[Illustratively, Zeke tears at his neckbrace, which makes a horrid
tearing sound as the velcro tears loose.]

Zeke: It makes me wanna ... DANCE~!

[Zeke does some freaking leaping ballet move!  Everyone goes silent as
they get confused.]

Zeke: It makes me wanna ... actually, gotta stop.  Tweaked my
*BLEEPING* knee on that triple axle...

[Bending down to rub his knee, Zeke nevertheless continues speaking.]

Zeke: It's so good, it makes me wanna organize a mass conspiracy that
crosses the lines between law, chaos, good, evil, intelligent and
stupid.  And here's what it is...

[Hobbling back over to his open briefcase, Zeke pulls out a paper.]

Zeke: I combed over this contract, which practically every team in PVW
signed, but only myself and my boys read.  Basically, it's a gauntlet-
style tournament, with the last two teams being considered to each be
contending (that's the operative word) for the PVW tag team titles.

[Putting the contract back, Zeke pulls out a wire-bound book that's as
thick as a novel.]

Zeke: And this is not, in fact, the lost Harry Potter novel.  This is
the PVW rule book.

    Please note that this contract--

[Zeke flips the first paper up to illustrate.]

Zeke: --was written entirely by me.  Also, please note that this
rulebook--

[And the book gets waved around too.]

Zeke: --while mostly made up of standard boilerplate from previously
existing wrestling leagues, was edited and tweaked entirely by, you
guessed it, me!

[Slamming shut the briefcase, Zeke limps slightly to the center of the
ring, placing the briefcase on the mat in front of him and striking a
"Captain Morgan" pose.]

Zeke: And that rulebook states exactly this; "Whensoever a title belt
should be vacant, the 'Championship Advantage" rules will not apply.
Both contenders are to be considered both champion and challenger.
Because the loser of the match is considered to be champion as well as
challenger, the rematch clause normally reserved for defending
champions is considered to be automatically applied to all
participants in the match."

    There you have it, folks.  Livestock and the Gutch ... have a
    rematch coming to them.  And there ain't a damned thing the "Royal
    Family" can do about it!

    Zing!

[Confused muttering from the crowd.]

CL: Uh ... can this be true?

PW: It can be.  Zeke's a damned smart guy.  Has an IQ of more than
300.  He told me himself.

Zeke: So Styles?  To you ... your weeble-looking giant egg-man-looking
sidekick, your manager, the other guys that back you up, your mother
that disowned you, and the agent that won't phone you, I have only
this to say--

    --be seeing you real, real soon.  Oh and one other thing Styles.
    You don't get paid, unless we get paid!

["Suite Pee" plays again as we cut back to the announce table.]

CL: Wow so Zeke has demanded a title shot... What else is new?

PW: I think he is doing a little more then "demanding".

CL: I've got it in good authority the tag contenders for End Games
have already been chosen and it wasn't Livestock and The Gutch.

PW: That isn't going to make Zeke very happy.

CL: Umm.. We have a camera in the back and from what I've heard we
don't want to miss this?

[Camera catches the box of nearly empty pizza as Monarch suddenly
drops it and rushes down the hall and barges into the restroom door.
After about ten seconds - Masked Maniac comes busting out holding the
front of his mask as he looks like he is about to barf.  Passing him
looking to go in is Outlaw.]

MM: MMknmm Gotta Go!

[Upon opening the door and entering the restroom you hear - ]

Outlaw: WHAT THE [bleep] IS THAT [bleep] SMELL?

CL: Looks like there is trouble in the back.

PW: From the sound of Outlaw's voice a disaster.

CL: Folks I don't know WHAT just happened, but I'd rather just move
right along then spend the next few minutes discussing that.

PW: Can't say I disagree.

HD: Introducing first.. Standing at a chisled six foot four and
weighing in at two hundred and fifty five pounds.. Led to the ring by
Samuel E. Cunningham.....


Here is ...


'Greek God' Jimmy Lane ...





[Smoke on the Water begins to play over the PA system... The crowd
roar in boo's as Jimmy Lane opens his arms up welcoming the reaction.
Cunningham raises his briefcase mocking them. The Greek God turns
before reaching the ring and flexes his greek god like body.  A few of
the ladies in the front row raise their eyebrows, but when he waves
them off they quickly give him the thumbs down.  He turns and rolls
under the ropes and to his feet as he awaits the champion.]

CL: Some say that Jimmy Lane came a hair away from capturing the PVW
Rising Phoenix Heritage Championship last week.  Carl Stevenson and
Johnathan Monarch made their presence felt.

PW: Chris Hartt survived, but his time runs out tonight.

HD: His opponent... Making his way to ringside...

[Cue "Tortures of the Damned" by Bayside.]

HD: ...hailing from Los Angeles, California.

[The crowd cheers.]

RA: Standing 6'1" and weighing in at 255 pounds...




Here is ...




JAAAAAIDENNNNN ANNNNNDREWWWWWS!!!!!





[The curtains are tossed to the side, and emerging from the back is
Jaiden Andrews, who stands at the entrance with his hair masking his
eyes. He then looks up, raising a hand to move the hair from his face,
then sizes up the cheering crowd. Raising an arm into the air, he
makes his way to ringside, slapping hands with the fans as he does
so... though his gaze fixates on the ring.

Getting to ringside, Andrews slides underneath the bottom rope, then
immediately gets to his feet. Walking to each of the turnbuckles,
Andrews climbs them and raises his arms into the air, the fans
cheering and taking pictures. As he descends the last turnbuckle, he
makes his way to his corner, taking off the t-shirt and tossing it
backwards into the crowd. Andrews then looks down, beginning to take
deep breaths and preparing a strategy for his upcoming match.]

CL: Jaiden Andrews had an impressive debut in his first match.
Tonight he attempts to move his career to the big stage with an
important match with Jimmy Lane.

PW: It's time to see if Andrews is full of hot air or for real.





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

	One on One, 15 Minute Time Limit:
	Jaiden Andrews
	v. Jimmy Lane

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



<<<  DING DING   >>>


CL: There’s the bell and this match is under way.


PW: You know I have to question this decision by the PVW match makers.
I mean really putting the virtual unknown in the ring with a "Greek
God" ... is that a wise decision.


CL: Preston Jaiden Andrews is not an unknown and Jimmy Lane, well he’s
a self-proclaimed Greek God not a real God.


[The two men lock up with a collar and elbow tie-up and begin to
jockey for position. Jaiden Andrews gains the advantage after a few
moments and forces Jimmy Lane into the rope as Samuel Cunningham
begins to scream at Jim Pearson that Andrews was pulling Lane’s hair.
Andrews fires a European Uppercut into the jaw of Lane that rocks one
half of The Thrillers. As the Greek God grabs his jaw Andrews thrusts
his palm forward catching Lane squarely in the nose.]


CL: That palm strike caught Lane completely unaware and it appears as
though it knocked Lane silly.


PW:  How dare you call anyone silly? I mean have you at all looked at
your attire tonight? Anyways Chip, that blatant disregard for the
referee’s order for the break has given Andrews the decided edge early
in these opening moments as he grabs Lane by the arm and whips him to
the far side ropes.


[Jimmy Lane rebounds off of the ropes and quickly ducks a running
lariat by Jaiden Andrews. Both men rebound off of opposite ropes and
rush towards one another. At the same moment the two men leap and
connect with crossing cross body blocks. The two men collapse to the
mat in a heap and slowly roll away from one another.]


CL: Both men with cross body blocks and the wind is taking out of each
of their sails early here.


PW: Sails? Come on Chip can't you compare wrestling to a more
interesting sport, like say golf?


CL: I'll leave the golf to you Preston. As right now we have action in
the ring to call as both Andrews and Lane are once again to their
feet.


PW: And fist a cuff are flying! Rights and lefts by both men, neither
one wants to back down! But the Greek God is getting the better of
Andrews at the moment as he has staggered Andrews into the corner!


CL:  Jim Pearson ordering for a clean break ...


[The Greek God takes a step back and once again quickly steps forward
driving his forearm into the side of Jaiden Andrews face. With a smirk
he steps back from the corner grabbing Andrews by his hair and pulling
him out of the corner. Lane takes Andrews to the mat with snap mare
takeover. Lane cinches on a reverse chin lock and begins to scream at
Pearson to ask Andrews if he gives.]


PW: There you go Chip, look at the Greek God assert his authority over
that emo Andrews.


[Andrews swings wildly over his head with his right arm, trying to
connect to the head of Lane but Lane easily avoids the arm. Jimmy
releases the hold and slaps Andrews across the back of his head and
screams is this the best the PVW has to offer me now! Lane drives his
knee into the back of Andrews head sending the youngster face first to
the mat. Lane drops an elbow to the back of Andrews and rolls him
over.]





ONE ...





TW ...




CL: Not even a two count as Andrews gets that right shoulder up. And
you can hear Cunningham on the outside complaining about a slow count.


PW: I have to agree with him Chip, I don't see how the little man was
able to kick out of that thunderous elbow drop.


CL: Little man ... thunderous elbow drop ... are we watching the same
match?


[As the bickering continues Jimmy Lane pulls Jaiden Andrews to his
feet and quickly plants him in the center of the ring with a scoop
slam. The Greek God wipers his left shoulder off and heads to the
turnbuckles.]


PW: Jimmy Lane showing everyone how easy Andrews is to beat and it
looks like he is going to the ropes.


CL: Lane is not really known for his high flying ability so I think
this is a bit risky?


PW: Risky? Come on Chip would Samuel be clapping if he thought it was
risky?


[As Lane ascends to the top rope Andrews kips up and rushes forward
towards the corner, catching Lane by his right leg and crotching the
Greek God across the top turnbuckle. Andrews quickly ascends to the
top rope and hooks Lane in a front facelock and pulls him up ...]


CL: SUPERPLEX! Both men crash to the mat!


PW: Not fair! Come on ref DQ Andrews! That was a low blow!


CL: Jaiden can't help it that is the way that Lane fell.


PW: Oh like it wasn't planned on his part.


[Andrews is the first to his feet and as Lane slowly begins to sit up
Andrews rushes to the far side rope, rebounding himself off and with a
fluid motion kicks Jimmy Lane across his back.]


CL: Listen to the sound of that kick radiate throughout the Armory.


[Lane holds his back in pain as Andrews quickly pulls him to his feet.
In a fluid motion Andrews pulls Lane up for a piledriver and holds him
for a moment as he locks hands around the right leg of Lane.]


CL: CRADLE PILEDRIVER!


PW: On the outside Samuel Cunningham cringes in pain for Lane. It
looked like that cradle piledriver compressed the neck of Lane there.
And where is Andrews going?


[Andrews is on the ring apron, grabs the top rope and slingshots
himself back into the ring ...]


CL: SLINGSHOT SOMERSAULT LEGDROP! And he landed hard across the neck
of Jimmy Lane there. It’s appears Preston that your Greek God is
gasping for air as Andrews goes for the cover!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THR - ...


PW: And the Greek God with the shoulder up!


CL: Samuel Cunningham looks overjoyed that Lane kicked out.


PW: And as well he should be. Jaiden Andrews is back to his feet and
rushes to the near side rope ...


[Samuel Cunningham grabs the leg of Andrews stopping his momentum
dead. Andrews spins around and swipes a kick at Cunningham that just
barely misses as Cunningham begins to berate Andrews about his look.
As he does so Jimmy Lane stands up and rushes forward at Andrews, who
side steps catching Lane with a drop toe hold that hotshots Lane
across the middle rope.]


PW: WHAT!?!? Does Andrews have eyes in the back of his head ... how
did
he know Lane was coming?


CL: Andrews has a lot of experience in the ring and he’s using it to
his advantage.


[Andrews rushes off of the far side rope and gains a head of steam as
he nears the prone figure of Jimmy Lane. Without hesitation Andrews
jumps through the second and top rope while holding on to the ropes,
and uses the momentum to swing back around into the ring catching Lane
squarely in the jaw with his boots. FACE POP!]


CL: TIGER FEINT KICK! Jaiden was on the money with that kick that
sends Jimmy crashing to the mat once again.


PW: And these fans seem to love watching Jaiden in the ring.


CL: As we've seen Jaiden has great talent in the ring and outside of
the ring there are not too many who go out of their way for the fans
the way that Jaiden does.


PW: You sound like you are trying to pimp him at the moment.


[As Chip just remains quite to the last comment Andrews steps on the
face of Jimmy Lane and turns twists the sole of his boot onto the face
of Jimmy Lane.]


PW: There was no need for that bootscrape. Come on ref do something!


[Andrews pulls the Greek God to his feet by his hair and whips him
across the ring, Andrews is quick to follow Lane so that as Lane hits
the ropes Andrews is there knocking him out of his boots with a
devastating roaring elbow.]


CL: Roaring Elbow connects and Jimmy Lane has just found Dream Street!


[Jimmy Lane crashes to the mat in a heap after the stiff elbow from
Jaiden Andrews.  Andrews looks to the crowd who begins to cheer loudly
as Andrews makes his way to the turnbuckles.]


PW: Andrews looks to be going to the top rope once again, but it seems
as though the crowd is egging him into doing it.


CL: Andrews loves to hear the roar of the crowd and what better way to
get the PVW fans behind you then to give the some high risk!


[Andrews extends his arms to the side as he anticipates Jimmy Lane
getting to his feet. As Lane gets to his feet Cunningham rushes over
and attempts to grab the leg of Jaiden Andrews.]


CL: Once again Cunningham sticking his nose where it doesn't belong!


[As Cunningham holds onto the leg of Andrews, Lane gets his feet and
rushes over catching Andrews with a stiff right to the gut. Cunningham
lets go of the leg and smiles as he raises his arms in the air saying
it was accident, I thought he was going to fall. Lane winds up for
another right but it is blocked by Andrews who connects with one of
his own. Lane stumbles back and Andrews repositions himself on the top
rope and leaps ...]


CL: TORNADO DDT! A picture perfect DDT there by Andrews and he’s not
down as he is quickly to his feet and pulling Lane up as well.


[Andrews faces Lane and grabs both of Lane’s arms and crosses them in
front of the his body. Jaiden then traps both of Lane’s arms in one of
his own armpits. Jaiden uses his free arm to hook the Lane's leg
before he powers Jimmy Lane over with a suplex.]


CL: Belly to Belly Crossed Arm Trap Cradle Suplex!


PW: doesn't he have a shorter name for that move?


CL: Not that I know of.




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE !!!


<<<  DING DING  >>>


CL: AND ANDREWS CONTINUES HIS WINNING WAYS!

PW: After last week’s performance by Lane against Chris Hartt I
thought Andrews would have lost but the kid surprises us all here
tonight.

CL: And Jaiden Andrews is celebrating with the fans.

PW: You would think that he won championship gold or better yet the
Master’s here tonight.

CL: I think it is only be a matter of time before Jaiden Andrews is
the title hunt. And I have to say all champions should be worried once
he is.

PW: He comes with a lot of hype, but at this point I haven't seen
anything.

[The roof of the 52nd Street Armory.  Night has almost set in, though
the lingering effects of the sun can be seen far off.  A slight breeze
disturbs the duster worn by a man almost precariously perched on the
edge -- Urban Legend's Stalker, Johnny Styles, stares across the
currently empty parking lot beneath the rim of a black mesh hat.
Something his held in his left hand, but the low light makes it hard
to determine.]

Stalker : I think I've made a mistake.

[Off the bat, something seems off about his tone, though aside from
the seriousness, it's hard to put a finger on.  He straightens a bit
in his crouch, looking a upward.]

Stalker : When I decided to compete again, it was in large part due to
the memories of being in the ring among the fans and opponents.  Not
concerning ourselves with the rivalries of past and present, the only
goal was to unite with old comrades, and revel in sport for its own
sake.

Stalker : Life, of course, has a way of hammering away at the simple
pleasures.  Even the PVW staff's first intent was to plunge us into
the world of petty hatred, goading the Royal Family with the history
of their defeat at our hands... despite the players being slightly
different.  Given the targets, it's no surprise such the simplistic
tactic worked, and we were given our official welcome by the coward
and his pet behemoth.

[The change is obvious now -- the southern accent of the sometimes
cowboy is no longer noticeable, leaving the almost droning, slow voice
of a year gone Stalker.  He stands fully upright, removing the hat in
the same motion, and steps away from the edge, pacing slowly.]

Stalker : Even these plans were derailed by a simple match -- half of
four, legend and prophet, to meet in what became a well earned match
by both men.  However, what respect was earned by Derek Rage even in
his loss was quickly squandered by an inability to cede with honor.
And so a war was born.

Stalker : More matches were fought... the fight for the title was
done, and the loss was ours, but the Prophets fared little better,
allowing two and a half wastes of flesh to claim their prize.  And
still the battle raged, when an old... acquaintance... threw his card
in with a dramatic flare... then promptly betrayed both history and
teamwork, allowing yet another set of pitiful complaints from those
who claim to be better men.

[Somewhere along the line, the hat seems to have been dropped, leaving
the unknown bundle in the Stalker's off hand.  He stops, looking
across the rooftop.]

Stalker : Which brings us to our last encounter.  Despite the attempts
between Semi, myself and Nightfire to secure a fair contest of two, a
little toy of yours managed to become the deciding factor.  In light
of our recent past, I can only say: congratulations.

[He bows slightly, an slightly ironic smirk on his face.]

Stalker : You now have a solid claim to a victory, no matter the
reasons.  But this childish cat and mouse grows heavy, and it must end
soon.  For your own sakes.

[He turns around, again facing towards the camera, and shakes his head
slightly, dangling the object in front of him now -- a black facemask,
lines of red drawn down from each eyehole.  He cocks his head at it
quizically.]

Stalker : On the subject of childish games, we have William Geddings.
Over the course of weeks, mysterious yet bland promotions of the
OmniFly, culminating in... this?  A man who denies his past and claims
to be above even a king, but has done nothing to prove his new worth
beyond that of a bruised bully.  Unprovoked threats, a lack of respect
for those around him, arrogance without cause, and the amusing
inability to hold even a temporary trifecta against a common foe.
You claim to be different, more than you were, yet even your basic
signature remains.

Stalker : It matters little who you manage to bribe, blackmail, bully
or deceive into helping you in our upcoming match.   If, by some
stretch of the imagination, they're not able to see you for who you
are and remain in our way, they'll be treated with the same level of
respect you've managed to earn yourself -- a slow, painful demise.

Stalker : I remember my past, be it skirmishes with VIPs and Inmates
in Detroit, the different facets of my soul bared for the world to see
in Pittsburgh, or one of the most wrenching battles of blood and heart
in Des Moines.  Legends, idols, and oddities... they all determine who
I am today.

[As he recollects, Styles' face begins to harden, growing more
impassive than angry.   Slowly, he lifts the mask to his face,
wrapping the band around, but still speaking]

Stalker : But I do remember the catalyst... the induction that spurred
that blood feud... costing me not only a dear friend, but shattering
what could have been an unbreakable bond before it ever truly began.

Stalker : I have the full weight of my deeds on me, driving me forward
with purpose.   You can choose to ignore yours for all the bravado or
absolved guilt it gives you... but all the denial in the world won't
make you other than what you truly are.

[Finishing the knot, Styles pulls his hair out from beneath it,
allowing it to fall around the familiar disguise, and stares straight
at the camera through Tears of Blood.]

Stalker : And I aim to jog your memory, Flyboy.

[The camera fades back to the announcers.]

CL: Stalker appears ready to send a message to OmniFly and The
Prophets.

PW: What was all that jibberish about?  Can anyone ever understand
that nut job?

HD: Introducing first weighing in at 220 pounds... From Alberta
Canada....

[Pop!]


Here is ...




BRIAN YOUNG !!!




[As the opening of ‘What I've Done’ by Linkin Park begins to play
throughout the 52nd Street Armory the crowd begins to roar as the
figure of Brian Young steps out from the backstage area and pauses for
a moment at the top of the entranceway soaking in his debut in the
PVW. Brian is attired in a pair of white full length wrestling tights
with white wrestling boots. The boots have golden laces and upon the
right leg in a very stylized font is the words The One.]

#In this farewell#
#There’s no blood#
#There’s no alibi#
#‘Cause I've drawn regret#
#From the truth#
#Of a thousand lies#

[Brian begins making his way done the aisle slapping hands with the
fans as he passes.]

#So let mercy come#
#And wash away#
#What I've done#

[For a long moment he stares at the ring before finally ascending the
ring steps. At the top of the steps he walks onto the ring apron and
wipes his feet before entering into the ring. He looks at the fans as
he climbs to the top rope and thrusts his arms high into the air.]

#I'll face myself#
#To cross out what I've become#
#Erase myself#
#And let go of what I've done#

CL: A BIG test for Brian Young tonight.  It would go a long way if he
wants to face Chase Williams in the Main Event at End Game.

PW: Start the funeral for Brian Young.

HD: His opponent from The Killing Fields...  Standing at six foot nine
and weighing in at three hundred and twenty pound...




Here is ...




MAJOR DAMAGE !!!




[A heavy beat starts up heavy as the lights drop. A few scattered
strobes create a circus funhouse atmosphere but do little to
illuminate the arena. The shrieking sound of "Soldiers" by Drowning
Pool hits the PA.]

#On your feet, WHO'S WITH ME!?#

[A flickering light appears in the entrance portal.]

#On your feet, WHO'S WITH ME!?#

[The light grows as it becomes clear that it's a burning flame.]

#One world, made better, in slight, hard bitter.#
#There is no compromise, YOU'RE BRINGING FORTH YOUR SACRIFICE!#

[Out from the backstage area bursts a huge man dressed from head to
toe in camouflage and wearing a gas mask. He waves what looks to be a
burning American flag at a crowd that shouts him down violently.]

#On your feet, who’s with me?#
#On your feet, let’s go!#

[Walking to the ring, he raises the flag high, illuminating himself
and many of the fans around him. More heel heat strikes at him as he
marches in military rhythm to his theme music.]

#Every time I see inside you I see myself within you.#
#Let’s go!#

[Major Damage walks a lap around the ring, making sure that all the
fans in the arena get a chance to see his "Scorched Spangled Banner".]

#(Whoah, yeaheah) This is for the soldiers!#
#(Whoah, yeaheah) This is for the soldiers!#
#(Whoah, yeaheah) This is for the soldiers!#
#One for all, WE'RE COMING!!!#

[Stopping before the ring and facing back towards the entrance portal,
Damage smashes the burning flag upon the floor, dousing its flame. All
is dark again.]

PW: Major Damage is here and ready for war!

CL: He is ready every day.






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

	One on One, 30 Minute Time Limit:
	Brian Young
	v. Major Damage

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



<<<  DING DING   >>>


CL: There is the bell...

PW: Hells bell.

[Collar and elbow tie up starts things off for both men.  Young stands
his
ground as the two bid for strength....  Finally Damage pushes Young
back and into the opposite corner.  Brian Young holds his hands up and
Major Damage backs up as the referee instructs a break.  Then out of
nowhere Damage kicks Young low...]

PW: Haven't they learned?  Never trust Major Damage!

CL: I guess Brian Young gave him the benefit of the doubt.  Damage
whips him across for a big Irish Whip -- .




[POP!]




[...  Young leaps onto the turnbuckles and as Damage  rushes in does a
back flip landing behind the charging in Damage.   Dropkick to the
back of Damages Knee.  Damage buckles down to one knee and Young
begins drilling him into the gas mask with hard right hard punches.]

PW: He can't do that!  Those are closed fists!

CL: That protective gas mask is absorbing most of the force.

[He goes to whip him across, but Damage reverses it...]




"___THHUUUUUD___"




CL: Young into the corner shaking the ring with the force..  The One
is stumbling out and Major Damage charging in with a full force Mafia
Kick --- .




"___THHHUUUUUUUD___"




PW: Lights out!

CL: Brian Young is flat on his back staring up at the lights.

[Damage now shaking off the surprise flurry to start the match off
pulls Young up and begins to set him up for a running powerslam, Young
sides off and behind him.  Young pushes the charging Damage off the
ropes and drop toe hold takes Major Damage to the mat.  Young wasting
no time goes to lock an ankle lock on, but Damage with the big leg
shoves him backwards and off the ropes.. Young leap frogs. Damage gets
to his on the rebound ...]

CL: Springboard Cross-Body....  Damage catches Young...





"___CRRAAACCCKKK___"





PW: BRUTAL BACKBREAKER!!!!!

[Damage holds Young over his knee and just begins tossing down brutal
elbows into the chest and throat area as the referee begins to count.]


One ...


Two ...


Three ...


Four ...


CL: Damage drops Brian Young.

PW: All is good don't worry.  Damage is playing by the rules.

CL: Border line.

[Young crawls to the ropes using it to pull himself up, but turns just
in time to eat a big double axe handle.  Young drops to both of his
knees as Damage locks on a standing Dragon Sleeper.]

CL: Standing Dragon Sleeper by the big man.  This could spell trouble
for Brian Young.

PW: What a short return to the ring.  It was nice of you to stop by
Brian.

[Young waves his arms and legs as the referee checks on him.  Damage
continues to squeeze and lift cranking  that upper back and neck
area.]

CL: Major Damage applying massive pressure.  Brian Young can't sustain
this for very long.

PW: Well this was a short match.  Next?

[Finally Damage drops the hold in frustration.  Young is bent over
gasping for air and Damage turns around and PUNTS him in the ribs.]




"___THHHUUUDDD___"




CL: Major Damage unleashing his frustration on Brian Young now.

PW: One cracked rib... muhahahaha!

[Damage pulls Brian Young up and drills him with a picture perfect T-
Bone Suplex.  We have our first pinfall.]




ONE ...




TWO ...




[POP!]




CL: Young fires a shoulder up just in time.

PW: Not the brightest move.

[Damage methodically back on the attack.  He goes to lock on his
Crucifix Kneebar, but Young counters with a Greco-Roman boot...
Another.... A third  to that gas mask protecting the  face of Major
Damage.]

PW: Those can't be legal.

CL: Major Damage stunned by the onslaught of kicks by Young is now
leaning against the ropes.

[Damage leans against the ring ropes with his back to Young. Young
jumps on Damage's upper back. Young places his legs under Damage's
armpits from behind. Young is hanging upside down with Damage's body
on the other side of the ropes.]

CL: RING ROPE SURFBOARD BY BRIAN YOUNG!

PW: A Ring Rope What the hell?

CL: The referee is counting as this isn't exact ally a legal hold, but
you can hear Major Damage screaming underneath that gas mask.


One ...


Two ...


Three ...


Four ...


CL: Young drops the hold and dished out a little revenge.

PW: Revenge for what, getting his rear kicked?

[Major Damage is turning around now shaking it off, and Young is on
the top ropes and leaps into a flying Cross-Body...]




ONE ...




TWO ...




[HEEL POP!]




CL: Damage with a strong kick out!

PW: Damn right.

CL: Both men are back up!




"___THHUUUUUD___"




[BOOOOOOOOOOO!]




[... but Young is turned _literly_ inside out with a diving forward
full force clothesline.  Young does a 360 in mid air.]

PW: Look ma, he can fly!!!

CL: Brian Young did a 360 in the air and fell right on the back of his
neck.  Major Damage is now grabbing the face down Young.

[Damage grabs both legs and heaves him back with a German suplex.]




"___THHHUUUUD___"




PW: Wheelbarrow suplex!

[Major Damage stands in the ring soaking the jeers from the crowd as
Brian Young is slowly inching his way to the feet of Major Damage.
Young using Damages legs to get to his feet and Damage just stares
down at him.]

CL: Damage in total control here.

PW: Consider it over Chip.

[Major damage goes for a vertical suplex and Young flips out of it and
lands on his feet grabs Major Damage by the shoulders and executes a
Backcracker!!!]

CL: He calls that Bloodline!

PW: I call it what the hell just happened!

[Both men lay on the floor as the fans are on their feet... The
referee begins to count both men down...]


One ...


Two ...


Three ...


Four ...


Five ...


Six ...


Seven ...


CL: Major Damage is moving...

PW: That's right.


Eight ...


Nine ...


[... Right before the Ten Count Damage is on his feet.  He pulls Brian
Young up and goes to whip him into the ropes... Young reverses it and
SWINGING NECK BREAKER FROM BRIAN YOUNG!!!]

CL: Listen to these fans now!!! Their hero is fighting back!  Brian
Young is now using the ropes and he is shaking the cob-webs off.

PW: This don't look good.

[Brian Young has Major Damage up and shoves Major Damage into the
corner chest first. As he stumbles backwards Young grabs him and
drives him into the mat with an inverted DDT!]




"___THUUUUD___"




CL: Young crawls over and has the cover!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE ???




PW: NO DAMAGE KICKS OUT!

CL: Brian Young still on the attack has Major Damage back up.  He
drops him down with a Russian Legsweep and now ascends to the top
rope....

PW: Major Damage is shifting.

CL: HE LEAPS!!!





"___THHUUUUD___"




[BOOOO!]




[... He attempts an elbow drop but Damage rolls to the side Young
misses... Damage quickly stands up and grabs Young flattening him with
a powerbomb.]

PW: That's what I'm talking about.

CL: Major Damage even seems a bit wounded.  You don't see this very
often as he uses the ropes to re gather himself.  He turns and grabs
Brian Young and just TOSSES him with absolute ease right between the
ropes and to the outside.

PW: Time to make him pay.

[Major Damage takes off and LEAPS into a Suicide dive... Brian Young
just gets out of the way of, The huge guiding missile as Major Damage
COLLIDES into the guardrail.]

CL: JESUS...

[Mixed reactions as The Mercenary emerges from the back.  He stands
tall with a huge smile on his face....  He stops mid way as the action
continues on the outside.]

PW: What is he doing down here?  Did Brian Young hire him?  I bet he
did... This was probably Brian Young's plan from the start.  That
snake!

CL: The Mercenary and Major Damage has been going at it since Rise
From the Ashes.  I doubt, Brian Young has had anything to do with it.

[Brian Young is now on the side of the ring Apron...  As Major Damage
begins to move and come to his senses he leaps and LANDS a picture
perfect Moonsault!]




P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !


P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !


P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !


P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !




CL: BRIAN YOUNG RISKED HIS BODY THERE, BUT HE CONNECTED!!!

PW: Lucky shot.

[Brian Young now has Major Damage up and rolls him under the rings and
follows hooking a leg!]




ONE ...




TWO ...




[Kick Out Pop!]




CL: Damage refuses to quit.  Brian Young grabs the leg of Major Damage
and begins to turn him into a double leg Boston crab......  Damage
makes his way right into the ropes with those long arms.

PW: Heads up move by Damage.   Brian Young is being forced to back
away and fight fair finally.

[Young goes for a running knee lift, but Damage blocks it..  Damage
goes for another massive clothesline, but Young ducks under hitting
the ropes... Damage turns just in time and SPINEBUSTER on Brian
Young.]




"___THHHUUUD___"




CL: Heads up move by Major Damage, but he appears wounded from the
outside onslaught and drops down to the mat!

PW: This is a first!

[The Mercenary on the outside has now pulled up a chair and is
watching rather closely.  Finally he pushes himself up, but Young is
up too..  A brawl breaks out in the center of the ring...  Hard stiff
rights and lefts... Young with a knife edge chop...




"___SMMMAAACCKKK___"




WHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!




"___SMMMAAACCKKK___"




WHOOOOOOOOOOOO!




Another... Damage grabs Young and turns him around in the corner and
martial arts knees and strikes....  He goes for the Double Chokelift,
but Young counters out and drops him with a DDT!]




"___THHHUUUUDDDD___"




CL: MAJOR DAMAGE GETS RIGHT BACK UP!!!!!!!

PW: Now ya done it.

[He rolls his neck and tells Young to Come on!!!  Young charges, BAD
move as he  runs right into a Mafia Kick.]

CL: Major Damage covers!




ONE ...




TWO ...




[POP!]




CL: YOUNG KICKS OUT!

PW: Major Damage now back in full control.

[Full armdrag and twist into heart punch... Damage holds onto the arm
then hurls Young backwards, up, and over his body, forcing a vertical
bump on the neck, and folding Young in two.]

PW: THE DEAD ZONE SUPLEX...

CL: Looks like he is looking to hit another and ---




"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"




[HEEL POP!]




ONE ...




PW: THIS IS OVER BABY!





TWO ...





THREE !!!




[TEAR DOWN THE ROOF POP!]




CL: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THE REFEREE IS HOLDING UP TWO FINGERS!!!

PW: HOW THE HELL!

CL: I can't believe it and neither can Major Damage. Young is trying
to get up and Damage dropping bombs to keep him down.  With every
bomb, Young is right back to getting up.  There is no quit in this
guy.

PW: Or brains.

[Major Damage places Young up on the top ropes...  He follows suit...
Young fights back and shoves Damage off!! He leaps, but right into the
arms of Damage and into a SPINEBUSTER!!!!!!]




... RING SHAKING  "___THHUUUDDD___"




ONE ...





TWO ...




THREE ???




[HUGE FACE POP!]




CL: YOUNG SHOOTS ANOTHER SHOULDER UP!

PW: YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME!

CL: You saw it with your own eyes Preston!

[Major Damage rips Young up and CONNECTS with a vicious chokeslam....
Young kips up and drills Damage with a superkick under the jaw before
crashing to the mat once again.]




[MASSIVE POP!]




CL: I am speechless Preston!  This match has been back and forth with
both guys at one another throats.  Young has been put through hell,
but he finds a way every time to come right back!

PW: He looks like he is laying there dead.  However he just shot
himself up and drilled Damage with a super kick.  I don't get it!

CL: The referee is counting both men down _again_.


One ...


Two ...


Three ...


Four ...


PW: Both men are motionless.


Five ...


Six ...


Seven ...


PW: Not anymore.  Major Damage is shifting around.


Eight ...


CL: Brian Young stirring.


Nine ...


Ten ???




[POP!!!!]




CL: NO BOTH MEN ARE UP!!!! THEY ARE BACK INTO THE CENTER OF THE
RING!!!!

PW: Crazy much?

[Damage with a big strike and another... Brian Young stumbles back
forward and Damage goes for a third Mafia Kick, but this time Brian
Young was ready and dodges it.. standing Reverse Neck Breaker!!!!!]

CL: SWEET DREAMS!!! A SIGNATURE MOVE BY BRIAN YOUNG OUT OF NOWHERE!!!
CAN HE CAPITALIZE???

PW: I hope not.

CL: BRIAN GETS AN ARM OVER...




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE !!!




[HEEL POP!]




CL: NO!!! DAMAGE PULLS A YOUNG... HE JUST GETS A SHOULDER UP!!!!

PW: YES!!!!!!!  WOOOOOO!

[The Mercenary is now on his feet arguing with the referee from the
outside that it was a three count...  The referee waves him off as he
doesn't know what he is talking about.  Brian Young pulls Major Damage
up and drives him back with a vicious chop.  He is now behind a dazed
Major Damage and setting up for BLUE THUNDER...]

CL: IT COULD BE OVER ...

PW: I can't believe this.




"___CRRAAASSSSHHHH___"




[HEEL POP!]




CL: DAMAGE USED ALL HIS MIGHT AND JUST SHOVED YOUNG BACKWARDS AND INTO
THE CORNER OF THE TURNBUCKLE BREAKING BLUE THUNDER...

PW: Now finish it!

[Major Damage stumbles forward and notices The Mercenary on the ring
apron now pointing at Damage and yelling at the referee.  Damage
charges ....  SENDS THE MERCENARY RIGHT OFF THE RING APRON TO A
MASSIVE POP!]

CL: Major Damage sending some revenge to The Mercenary!!! He has had
enough!

PW: About time.

CL: Wait Brian Young has come too from the corner and ROLLS HIM UP
FROM BEHIND!

PW: That little snake!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE ???




[HUGE POP!!!]




CL: HE DID IT!!!! YOUNG TOOK ADVANTAGE OF THE SITUATION AND ROLLED UP
MAJOR DAMAGE!

PW: Brian Young hired The Mercenary I knew it!!!

[Major Damage is on his feet and livid... Brian Young looking up at
the replay on the big screen just noticed what happened.  He turns to
Major Damage and is trying to explain he didn't realize The Mercenary
was there...]

PW: Yeah sure...

CL: MAJOR DAMAGE HAS GRABBED YOUNG... Double Chokelift....

PW: HELL YEAH!!!




"___THHHUUUUDDDD___"




PW: THUNDER MELTER!!!

CL: Looks like The Mercenary is tired of watching things...he's headed
into the ring!

PW: And not empty handed...the hired gun grabbed the chili dog from
the kid sitting next to him!

CL: Merc approaches Major Damage from behind, puts a hand on his
shoulder and spins him...and smears the chili dog across the face
mask!

[The crowd comes to it's feet with a roar as Major Damage swings
blindly at The Mercenary...and gets louder still as a figure sprints
from the backstage area and slides into the ring...]

CL: IT'S "SHOWTIME" RICK MARLEY! MARLEY IS BACK FROM INJURY AND HE'S
TAKING IT TO HIS TORMENTOR!

PW: The midget has a death wish! No one does this to Major
Damage...even a blind Major Damage.

CL: Marley fires a few quick right hands as The Mercenary lends an
assist...the Major is backed into the corner as Marley hops up onto
the top turnbuckle and locks on a front chicanery...Marley with a
Tornado DDT...

PW: NO! Major Damage just tossed Marley like a rag doll half way
across the ring!

CL: BUT LOOK WHAT MARLEY'S GOT IN HIS HANDS! HE'S GOT THE GAS MASK!
HE'S UNMASKED MAJOR DAMAGE...






"___GAAASSSSP___"






[Advancing quickly at first, Damage, now unmasked stops abruptly mid-
ring, perhaps feeling the breeze on his face. Looking up the
entranceway, he sees something, and when the camera cuts to show the
big screen, we know what. He sees the back of his own head, then
turns towards the camera, his eyes suddenly bugging out of their
sockets. He rips off a glove, which dangles by what looks to be an
electrical wire, and feels his face.]

PW: He's green! Who would have thought that Major Damage would be
green?

CL: MARLEY WAS RIGHT, MAJOR DAMAGE IS WILLIAM CRAVEN!

[After a moment, Bill just lets loose with the most incoherent,
tortured shriek perhaps ever heard in professional wrestling, and
begins clawing at his face as the crowd screams in shock.]

WC: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

PW: And man does he look pissed!

CL: Marley and The Mercenary both roll out of the ring seconds before
William Craven lunges at them with bad intentions. Marley's still got
that gas mask in hand as the two men back down the aisle. Mercenary
seems to be saying that it's only the beginning...

PW: And Marley seems like he's not terribly happy that he was right
after all...look at the expression on his face!

CL: Marley is vindicated, but now the realization of who was under
that mask...who Marley's just called out has sunk in!

[Diving for Marley and the Mercenary, Bill's knee catches on the
bottom rope as the crowd goes wild. Merc pauses for a second as Craven
thrashes on the ground, getting up too slow, then goes for the attack
before Marley grabs him by the shoulder and they both hightail it up
the ramp.]

WC: Why!? It didn't have to be this way, Rick! IT DIDN'T HAVE TO BE
THIS WAY!!!

PW: WHOA! Look at him go! Craven has lost his mind!

CL: And we thought that Major Damage was bad. Craven has already drawn
blood on his own face...

[Going silent for a moment, the announcers seem struck dumb by what
they see. Craven, collapsed, and completely hysterical, in a fetal
position, mumbling...]

CL: I think ... we need to get somebody out here right away. No PVW
employee should be seen by the public in this state.

PW: Ah, let it go man. Besides, he's put how many people on the shelf?

CL: The show must go on. The show...

[Suddenly, entering the picture comes Brian Young. Brian stares at the
figure of William Craven for a long moment.]

WC: DON'T LOOK AT ME! YOU DAMN ME WITH YOUR EYES! YOU DAMN ME!!!
[Slowly Brian begins to kneel upon his right knee as he begins to
speak to Craven and tries to lift William to his feet. Without warning
Craven uses his right arm and tries to push Brian back. As he does so
Brian continues to speak to Craven.]

CL: Brian trying to talk to Craven but I'm not sure it's really having
any effect at all.

PW: After all the men he has tried to injure here in the PVW it's a
shock at all that anyone would even try to show the man an ounce of
compassion.

[Brian once again attempts to place his hand on the shoulder of Craven
and once again the monster tries to shove him away but Young uses the
push as a moment to hook his arms under the shoulders of Craven and
pulls him to his feet.]

CL: Craven is dead weight in Brian's arms at the moment.

PW: But that's not stopping him from screaming at Brian Young.

[Craven wretches his head back to look Young in the eyes and begins to
scream at the only man in the arena, who has been willing to help
him.]

WC: NO!  Wrong year, doesn't have to be, I warned him, why?  YOU DAMN
ME!  Forsaken, I'm forsaken, the choir it sings using words with no
meaning and they are WRONG!  My face is gone...  I TRIED TO WARN YOU,
RICK!!!

CL: Folks while Brian Young attempts to help William Craven we have to
go to commercial.

[Cut to commercial.  Two men stand next to each other.  One is a 20-
something with an obnoxious smile and wearing a polo shirt, the other
a relaxed-looking if geeky guy in a suit.  Obnoxious college dropout
first.]

Mac: Hi, I'm a mac.

[Business guy second.]

Linux: And I'm a PC running Linux.

Mac: What?

Linux: Yup.  And it doesn't matter what you say because Linux is free,
and there's a version that will run on any computer working today;
even computers made twenty years ago!

Mac: Well ... I've got the cool factor going for me.

Linux: Again ... free.

Mac: Hey, Apple, my parent company, makes Ipod.

Linux: You mean that music thingie that will only run if you use
Apple's "Itunes" software?

Mac: That's the one.

Linux: Next!

Mac: Well, Mac OS X Tiger totally rocks!  Windows Vista just took
parts from Tiger and shoehorned it into XP!

Linux: Hello?  Not Windows.  Totally free.  Besides, Ubuntu runs a
graphical environment that's just as robust as either Vista or Mac OS.

Mac: Uh, I, ooooOOOOHHH!!!




"___BOOOOOM___"




[Mac's head explodes.  Linux lights a cigarette from his smoldering
neck.]

Linux: Sure, you're virus proof, but dammit ... your hardware sucks.

[Exiting to the left, Linux leaves Mac just as his headless body falls
backwards.]

Narration: Paid for by people who really find those Mac commercials
annoying, and also enjoy Linux ... there's like 50 of us.

[Cut back to the arena.  William Craven's been stripped of most of his
Major Damage costume, and so is bare to the waist.  His lips still
move, now covered by a transparent oxygen mask, and he stares
transfixed at the ceiling.  EMTs have gotten involved, and help raise
the gurney that will carry Bill to the back.  Brian Young still stands
beside Bill, helping the EMTs.]

CL: Welcome back, fans.  While we were away, medical personnel clearly
decided to intervene, as Brian Young was having little success moving
the 320-pound dead weight of William Craven.

PW: Christ, what in the hell is his problem?

CL: Anything at this point would be conjecture, Preston, but I'll tell
you this much; this is not the reaction that anybody expected in this
situation.  In his guise as Major Damage, Craven had control, and
seemed, in fact, cold and calculating, but now...

PW: Yeah, well, he needs to snap out of it.  This is a business we're
trying to run here, not a hospital.

[At the top of the ramp, Bill suddenly snaps to, gripping roughly the
wrist of Brian Young.]

WC: BRIAN!

[Stunned, Young nods to Bill, trying to smile through his concern.]

BY: Yeah, Bill, it's me.

WC: Brian...

[At that, they wheel Bill to the back.  Cut to the announce table.]

CL: Holy crap I really don't know _WHAT_ to say.

PW: William Fn Craven..

CL: Apparently Rick Marley _was_ the one who hired The Mercenary to
come after Major Damage... Or should I now say William Craven.

PW: What is the deal with this odd relationship between Brian Young
and William Craven?  Wasn't Craven as Major Damage just attempting to
destroy Brian Young?

CL: This night just gets crazier and crazier.

PW: Something tells me we haven't even begun.

CL: As the EMT's are clearing things we still have _two_ title matches
to come and the much anticipated four corners strap match.

PW: I can't wait.  That drunk Rob Cole is going to be stumbling around
as Spectre slaps the crap out of him.

HD: Introducing first at a combined weight of five hundred and seventy
five pounds...


Here Is ..


Stalker & Semi ....


URBAN LEGEND!!




[An almost morbid classical piece fades in over the loudspeaker,
reaching a short climax... and is abruptly cut off by a screeching
guitar riff as FM Revolver's "Black Dove" blasts over the P.A. system.

[A slightly red-tinged light provides ambiance to the entranceway as
two figures step out, causing a large pop to ripple through the crowd.
The two men immediately make their way to the ring, the much larger of
the two pausing occasionally to slap hands with the fans.

[The towering Semi wears makes long, easy steps towards the ring,
wearing clean black jeans, a matching black tank covered by a tabard-
cut PVW shirt.  His face is devoid of the usual grin, though he
manages a wry smirk at one well-merchandised child along the aisle.

[On the other side, the Stalker stares intently towards the ring
through his Tears of Blood mask.  A microphone in his hand, plain
black boots and tights tuck beneath a third generation "Teen Idols"
shirt with three figures on it: "Sexy" Johnny Styles stands between
the glaring visages of "the Blade" Justin Cruise and the "FlyKing"
Will Geddings.

[As the two roll into the ring, Semi raises both fists in the air,
greeting the crowd.   Stalker immediately mounts the second rope,
bringing the microphone up as the music dies.]

Stalker : I tire of the games, Geddings.  You have your surprise;
bring it and let's get this over with.

[The microphone clatters all the way as Stalker continues staring at
the entrance, Semi a few steps besides.]

CL: Stalker seems dead motivated and ready to battle OmniFly.

HD: His opponent... Standing in at two hundred and fifteen pounds..
From Florence, South Carolina...


Here is ...




OMNIFLY !!!





[The lights go out as "Omni" appears on the screen. The OmniFly
emerges from the backstage area wearing a white boxer's robe. OmniFly
slides underneath the bottom rope. It's obvious that he has no partner
and it appears that no one is coming. Omni stands in the ring and
looks over Urban Legend, rolling his eyes at his opposition.]

CL: OmniFly is one of the most hated men in this industry...  There
may not be a guy left in this buissness who will even team with him.

PW: Any former KGB agent can destroy both Urban Legend.





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

	Tag Team, 20 Minute Time Limit:
	Urban Legend
	v. OmniFly & Partner of Choice

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



<<<  DING DING   >>>


CL: How many times do I have to tell you he’s not a FORMER KGB AGENT!

PW: Stay in denial Chip. That’s fine.

CL: ::sighs:: Anyways it appears Semi is going to start this off with
the partnerless OmniFly.

PW: The referee isn't making him forfiet?

CL: I am hearing that Urban Legend has requested to go ahead and let
the match go on.

PW: OmniFly can defeat him on his own.

[As the two men begin to lock up in the center of the ring the figure
of "Arizona Stud" Freddy Travis begins to make his way to the ring.
Travis is wearing an old school AWMC Flyboy t-shirt and his wrestling
attire. The two men break the hold as the crowd cheers the hometown
youngster as he makes his way to the ring. Semi points at Travis and
looks at OmniFly as he just lowers his head and shakes it side to
side. Semi smirks as he turns to face OmniFly who catches the big man
with a quick kick to the gut.]

PW: Pay attention big boy, those KGB Agents are crafty.

CL: Why me? Anyways OmniFly catches Semi napping with that kick to the
gut and OmniFly quickly locks on front chancery and executes a
swinging neckbreaker.

[As Semi crashes to the mat with a thud OmniFly looks at Travis and
stomps on Semi’s head with a vicious boot. He winds up and kicks Semi
square in the ribs before exiting the ring and stepping onto the ring
apron.]

PW: OmniFly what are you doing. Don’ give the monster a chance to get
up! Keep stomping away! This isn't a smart move.

[ OmniFly motions for Semi to get to his feet and as he does OmniFly
grabs a hold of the top rope and slingshots himself onto the rope and
leaps into the air ...]

CL: SLINGSHOT SPINWHEEL KICK! And Semi and OmniFly both crash to the
mat.

PW: Great move OmniFly. Now that’s what I talking about!

CL: didn't you just say it was a bad move?

PW: I just said great move ... man Chip you need to listen better.

[OmniFly is the first to his feet and drives an elbow into the side of
Semi’s ribs. He pulls the big man up to his feet and attempts to whip
him into the ropes, Semi though reverses the whip sending OmniFly hard
into the ropes. OmniFly rebounds ducking a clothesline from Semi,
OmniFly rebounds again leaping into the air ...]

PW: And Mack truck I mean Semi catches OmniFly in mid-air and slams
him to the mat with authority!

[Semi looks down at OmniFly and pulls him to his feet quickly. He
grabs OmniFly by his left arm and pulls him in for a nearly
decapitating short-arm clothesline. OmniFly crashes to the mat but
Semi pulls him to his feet again and whips him hard into the corner.
Semi glares at OmniFly and sets up in a three point stance. With a
head of steam Semi rushes forward and slams into OmniFly with a spear
in the corner.]

PW: Oh god! OmniFly stuck between a truck and a corner! And it looks
like OmniFly was broken in half!

[Semi steps back from OmniFly and delivers a quick short elbow that
rocks the jaw of OmniFly. Semi pulls OmniFly from the corner, locking
him in a front chancery as he does so.]

CL: Semi using that headlock to pull OmniFly to the corner where he
tags in Stalker.

PW: And Stalker looks hesitant to get into the ring but he finally
does so.

[Stalker drives a knee into the exposed ribs of OmniFly. Semi releases
the headlock and exits the ring as Stalker connects with a stiff
European Uppercut that forces OmniFly to stand upright, he follows up
with a knife edge chop that causes OmniFly to grab his chest in pain.
Stalker forces OmniFly into the ropes and drives another knee into his
gut causing OmniFly to double over. He locks on a front facelock and
tries to power OmniFly over with a suplex but OmniFly slips out at the
apex of the suplex and lands on his feet rushing towards the ropes. He
rebounds off and leaps in the air for a cross body block but Stalker
ducks it causing OmniFly to crash to the mat.]

CL: Heads up move by Stalker.

PW: It was luck I mean he lost his footing and fell down Chip.

[Stalker is once again on the attack as he pulls OmniFly to his feet
but OmniFly fires off a right hand and staggers Stalker with it. A
second right hand and OmniFly rebounds off of the near side rope,
Stalker ducks the running clothesline, OmniFly rebounds off of the
ropes again, Stalker lowers his head and OmniFly connects with a boot
to the head.]

PW: Stalker dropped his head to early there and OmniFly took
advantage! He hooks Stalker in a front face lock ...

CL: SNAP SUPLEX!

[OmniFly is quickly to his feet and climbs to the top rope and leaps
...]

CL: STALKER ROLLS OUT OFF WAY AND OMNIFLY MISSES THE ELBOW DROP!

[Both men roll away from one another. Travis leans over the top rope
calling for the tag but OmniFly just stares at him holding his elbow
as Stalker makes the tag to Semi. As Semi enters the ring OmniFly
dives to Travis making the tag.]

PW: And the Arizona Stud is tagged in but he doesn't look happy about
it all.

[Travis enters the ring and cautiously looks at Semi. Semi smirks and
dares the kid to run into him. Travis rebounds off of the neat side
and collides with Semi and just as quickly collides with the mat.]

CL: Not sure what would make Freddy think that it is a good idea to
run into Semi like that.

PW: The youngster has something to prove and what better way than
knocking off Urban Legend.

CL: The only thing that might have been knocked out was one of Travis’
teeth.

[Travis slowly gets to his feet at the encouragement of OmniFly and
tells Semi he’s going to try that again. Travis rebounds off of the
ropes and instead of colliding with the big man he leaps into the air
with a cross body block but Semi catches him and just tosses him to
the mat with a fall away slam. Travis screams in pain as he slams hard
into the mat.]

CL: And Semi is back to his feet and pulls Travis up ...

PW: And Travis is way up there as Semi just presses him high over his
head ...

CL: And Travis falls hard to the mat after that Press Slam!

[Semi drops down for the cover.]




ONE ...




TWO ...




THR - ...

CL: Somehow Travis got his shoulder up!

PW:  And look at that look of shock on the face of Semi.

[Semi stands up and pulls Travis to his feet, Semi attempts a short
arm clothesline but Travis ducks spinning behind Semi. Travis tries a
waist lock but quickly thinks better of it instead chop blocking Semi
to the mat. He follows up with a stiff kick to the side of Semi’s head
and points at OmniFly as he locks on a reverse chinlock.]

PW: Travis trying to wear down Semi here ...

CL: And it doesn't last long as Stalker charges into the ring and
nearly takes Travis’ head off with the lariat.

[Stalker looks at OmniFly and exits the ring. Semi gets to his feet
and heads over to the Arizona Stud. The Stud though slips between the
legs of Semi and gets to his feet rushing forward and slamming hard
into Stalker with an elbow. Stalker falls from the apron slamming hard
into the floor.]

PW: That'll teach Stalker to interfere when the Stud is working!

[Travis turns around; rushes forward towards Semi and catches him with
a dropkick to the knee. As the big man falls to one knee Travis heads
to his corner for a tag ...]

PW: OMNIFLY JUST DROPPED OFF OF THE APRON! HE doesn't WANT TO MAKE THE
TAG!

[Freddy Travis stares at OmniFly in shock.]

CL: That ungrateful son of ...

PW: Watch the language Chip this is still a family show. OmniFly
showing how evil KGB Agents are as he is just leaving Travis to the
wolves.

[OmniFly smiles as Semi begins to get his feet. Travis still looking
at OmniFly in disbelief as Semi spins him around and latches his
massive hand around the throat of Travis ...]

CL: CHOKESLAM! Travis sent crashing hard into the mat.

PW: Semi looks proud of himself as slowly pulls Travis to his feet and
locks on a front face lock ...

CL: He could be setting up for Collision his signature Brainbuster
Suplex!

[OmniFly looks at Stalker who is slowly getting back to his feet and
grabs a steel chair. OmniFly slides into the ring as Semi begins to
pull Travis into the air ...]




"______SSSSSMMMMMAAAACCCCKKKK____"




CL: OMNIFLY WITH A CHAIR TO THE BACK OF SEMI!

PW: And the ref is calling for the bell!


<<<  DING DING   >>>



[Semi drops Travis to the mat who begins to cheer on OmniFly, telling
him to slam Semi again with the chair. OmniFly looks at Freddy Travis
...]



"______SSSSSMMMMMAAAACCCCKKKK____"



CL: CHAIR SHOT FOR TRAVIS!

PW: It's a KGB hit parade!

[Stalker slides into the ring and spins OmniFly around, who is
preparing to hit Semi with another chair shot.]

PW: It's a Mexican standoff! OmniFly and Stalker just staring at one
another!

[Stalker looks at OmniFly, who looks away from Stalker towards Semi
and then back at Stalker, who is telling him that’s enough. OmniFly
nods his head in agreement ...]



"______SSSSSMMMMMAAAACCCCKKKK____"




PW: AND A STEEL SANDWICH FOR STALKER!

CL: OmniFly is the only man standing! He took out his own partner and
Urban Legends with that steel chair.

PW: Freddy Travis was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

CL: He seems to be a major fan of OmniFly.

PW: Let's see if he is after this match.

CL: OmniFly get the DQ, but from the looks of it... It was a planned
massacre.

PW: Where is The Outlaw?

CL: I think he prefers to be called just Outlaw.

PW: I care?

CL: We haven't seen him since he entered the Bio Dome...

[The camera fades into the back and you see Chris Hartt in the
dressing room stretching before his PVW Heritage Title defense. The
door swings open and in comes "The Fighting Irishman" Caleb Foley.
Hartt turns around as Caleb begins to speak...]

Caleb Foley: "Chris Hartt ... PVW's very own Rising Phoenix Heritage
Champion ... Finally The Paladin and The Fighting Irishman meet ...
But Chris I came back here to talk about your friend Rob Cole..."

Hartt:  My friend?  Let's set something straight.  Cole is nobody's
friend. He may talk to some people, he may help someone out when he
wants to, but he's not wanting, looking or accepting anyone as his
friend.  But, I have had some dealings with him lately.  What do you
want to know about him?

Caleb Foley: "Well I am kind of concerned for his well being. He may
not be anyone's friend but Cole is a legend in this business and it
kills me to see him throwing his career down the drain by drinking his
pain and sufferings. The "Monster Under Your Bed" I know would suck it
up and show the world that he still can wrestle. He wouldn't be
complaining on how he beat Spectre no he would go out to the ring and
demand a rematch. The Rob Cole we have grown up watching and cheering
for would demand respect and would beat the holy hell out of anyone
who didn't give him that..."

Hartt:  That's true, but Cole's not gone yet.  He's just lost.  He'll
be back on his game and when he does, the roof will be torn down
around all of our ears.  Spectre's shown Cole a sign of age, but Cole
just needs to remember that with his age come wisdom.   Just be ready.
Once he gets over his ills, anyone facing him will have a hell of a
match on their hands. Speaking of matches from Hell, are you ready to
team up with Outlaw to take on Jonathan Monarch and Paul Styles?

Caleb Foley: "I am ready as I ever will be. I watched tapes and
trained with Outlaw this week so I think your looking at one half of
the new tag team champions..."

Hartt: I've heard a lot of their badmouthing and smoke-blowing. We
can't let these guys run roughshod over us or this company.  It's
important that we're there for each other and make sure these guys
don't get the upper hand on us.  So, keep in mind, you need me, I'll
be there.  Watch my back, because when you're out in that ring, I'll
be watching yours.

Caleb Foley: "Chris, you can count on me but I think you better be
careful out there tonight you have to face a man who showed no remorse
when he hit his own wife with a baseball bat. Speaking of which how is
Destiny doing?"

Hartt:  Last I heard, she was better, but I haven't heard from her.  I
felt it was safer to just maintain some distance until all of this
crap blows over.  I gotta do what I can to get RJ to see just how
deluded Paul Sandler has him right now.  It's taxing, but if there's
any chance to save my friend, I'll do whatever I have to.  My friends
mean that much to me.

Well, I gotta finish getting ready for my match, dude.  Thanks for
coming by and best of luck with your match.  I'll be there if you need
me.

Caleb Foley: "Chris just be careful out there. Just go out there and
show the fans why The Paladin is the Phoenix Valley Wrestling Rising
Phoenix Heritage Champion and you let The Fighting Irishman worry
about Paul Sandler..."

[With those words Caleb leaves the locker room as the Paladin starts
to stretch for his match against RJ Souza later on tonight in
Heatwave's Main Event...]

HD: Introducing first from Aspen, Colorado.   Weighing in at two
hundred and thirty one pounds and standing at six foot one.


Here is ...




"INTERNATIONAL EXCELLENCE" ....

TYRONE PARKER!!!




["All Eyes on Me" by Tupac hits the PA system. The athletically built
African American, Tyrone Parker emerges from the back.  Dreadlocks
hang down from the head of the veteran. As the camera zooms in we can
pick out a tattoo of a cross on his right bicep and across his abdomen
the phrase "All Eyes On Me".   Parker has on white trunks with black
kickpads.  He for the most part ignores the fans as he walks right to
the ring ready to take on the youngster.]

CL: Tyrone Parker had quite the career a few years ago.  He has
battled a series of injuries and tough defeats inside the PVW, but if
he could pick up a win here tonight he could turn things around.

PW: If?  Come on man he is facing Tommy Ryder...  Easy win!


HD: His opponnet....  Standing in at five foot nine and weighing in at
one hundred and nintey five pounds....   Accompanied to the ring by
the lovely, "Lady" Laurel Levinger ...


Here is ...




"THE PHENOM" ....

TOMMY RYDER !!!




["Obsession" by  Animotion blasts over the PA system as "Lady" Laurel
Levinger walks down to ringside to present Tommy, posing with one arm
pointing to the entrance and the other in the air.]

PW: Mmmm.. Laurel Levinger..

CL: Aren't you like twice her age?

PW: Is she 18?   Then So!

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

PW: And then this kid had to ruin it.  What does she see in this twit
anyways?

CL: Tommy Ryder is one of the bright new breed wrestlers inside the
PVW.


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

	One on One, 15 Minute Time Limit:
	Tommy Ryder
	v. Tyrone Parker

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



<<<  DING DING   >>>



CL: The match has started and the young Tommy Ryder is offering his
hand to Tyrone Parker.

PW: Aaah isn't this nice.

[The veteran, Tyrone Parker accepts and pulls Ryder right into a cheap
shot.  Ryder quickly stunned gets his eyes raked for good measure.
Parker now clearly in the lead whips Ryder into the corner and charges
in.....]

CL: Ryder gets his feet up and Parker eats the bottom of his boots.
Ryder now climbing up the turnbuckles... HE FLIPS OVER INTO A SUNSET
FLIP!!!

PW: That's an interesting way to pin someone.




ONE ...




TWO ...




CL: NO, the veteran with a kick out. Tommy Ryder not wasting any time
quickly pulls Tyrone Parker up and whips him into the ropes....  Ryder
leaps up and Springboards -




[POP!]




[.. Spinning heel kick nails Tyrone Parker perfectly in the chops.
Laurel leans under the ropes and shouts, "Get up Mr. Parker"]

PW: Laurel rubbing salt into Parker's wounds.

CL: The Phenom isn't done he pulls Parker right back up and backs him
up with some forearms.

[Ryder whips him across again keep the pace going... Parker reverses
it and locks a sleeper hold on Ryder.... Ryder works his way to the
ropes and runs up the turnbuckles and back flips off the turnbuckle
with a twist to land an inverted DDT on Parker!]

CL: WHAT A COUNTER!




ONE ...




TWO ...




PW: Parker just gets a shoulder up.

CL: This kid is looking really good here on his HeatWave debut.

PW: Taking full advantage that's for sure.

[Ryder sets up and as Parker makes it to his feet he lets loose a
dropkick right to Parker's kneecap. Parker stumbles around but is
taken down by a chop block.  Parker quickly back up, but limping and
another chop block.]

CL: Ryder working low now.  Taking the wheels out from underneath
Tyrone Parker.

PW: He actually has a plan too.  He can think _and_ wrestle.

CL: You have to like this kids aggressiveness.

PW: He get's it from Laurel.

[Ryder lifts Parker up and nails a vicious knee breaker.  Tommy climbs
up Parker's front by using the
Parker's body as a ladder putting his last step on the Parker's
shoulder as he kicks him in the face.]




"___THHHUUUDDDD___"




CL: He calls that the Stepping Stone!!!!  He just kicked Parker right
into the Chops!

PW: Look at the blood coming from the lips of Parker.

[Laurel again leans in shouting "I don't think that was the best you
could do."  Tommy Ryder still quick on the move climbs the ropes and
sets up for an Asai Moonsault.....   As Parker raises back to his feet
he leaps -- ]

CL: NO PARKER DODGES!

PW: This could spell trouble.

[... the limping Parker begins to put the boots to Ryder.  He pulls
him up and drops him with a snap suplex.  Laurel again shouts, "Do you
think that will stop him?"  Parker gets to his feet and turns and
gives a crotch chop to Laurel!]

CL: Tyrone Parker getting tired of Laurel's words, but Ryder is up and
Parker begins to eat a few fists..

PW: It's working.

[Parker whips him into the ropes and Ryder hits a sunset flip, but
Parker drops down pinning him.]




ONE ...




TWO ...




[POP!]




CL: Ryder with a strong kick out.

PW: Almost cost him there.

[Parker pulls him up and hits a Dragon Suplex in witch, Laurel shouts
I can hit harder than that!"]

CL: Tyrone Parker now in control is pulling Ryder to his feet...

[Parker goes for another whip, but countered...  Tommy whips Parker to
the ropes and throws him out of the ring on the way back between the
second and third ropes.  Laurel moves close as if she is considering
nailing Parker.  Parker spots her and she backs off as Tommy performs
a plancha on from the top ropes!!!]

CL: PHOTO OP!!!




P - V - W ! !   P - V - W ! !   P - V - W ! !


P - V - W ! !   P - V - W ! !   P - V - W ! !


P - V - W ! !   P - V - W ! !   P - V - W ! !



PW: One of these days all these high risk moves is going to backfire
on Tommy Ryder.

CL: It hasn't thus far!

[Ryder rolls Parker back into the ring and whips Parker face first
into the turnbuckle.  As Parker    turns around Tommy runs up the
turnbuckle which is now behind them and lands a bulldog.]




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE ???




CL: NO PARKER JUST GETS A SHOULDER UP!!!!  Ryder hit him with, Coming
and Going.  However that wasn't enough to pick up the win.

PW: Come on Parker get with it man.  Show these fans who you used to
be.

[Ryder pulls Parker up to finish him off, but with the refs view
blocked Parker hits a low blow...  Ryder in Pain and Parker nails him
with an enzuguri kick to his head. Parker then drops down and begins
choking him as the referee counts...]


One ...


Two ...


Three ...


Four ...



CL: No Parker lets go of the hold before he was disqualified.

PW: Maybe that wouldn't be a "bad" thing right now.

[Parker pulls him up and out of nowhere Ryder hits a back flip kick!]

CL: HOLY COW!  Ryder taking off and hooks under Parker's arm and
transitions into a float over DDT!! BACK AT YOU!!!!

PW: Whoa!

CL: Ryder is on his feet as the fans are cheering him... He pulls
Parker up and sets him up...

[The amazing Flipping Piledriver out of nowhere....]




[POP!]




CL: OVER THE TOP!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE !!!




<<< DING    DING >>>




CL: RYDER HAS DONE IT!!! He has owned Burning Effect and tonight he
has debuted on HeatWave and showed the PVW fans he is for real.

PW: I have to give the kid credit... If he listened to his girlfriend
he'd be even better.

[Ryder rolls from under the ropes and slaps the fans hands as he heads
up to the locker room. As "The Phenom" Tommy Ryder makes his way to
the locker room, "Showtime" Rick Marley, The Mercenary, "Pokerface"
Mark Masterson and Nick "Always" Wright emerge from the back, striding
with a purpose
towards the ring where "International Excellence" Tyrone Parker lies
on his back, slowly stirring after his match with Ryder.]

CL: "Showtime" Rick Marley, The Mercenary and The Made Men are making
their way down towards ringside now, folks...I have no idea what
they're doing out here!

PW: I'm guessing that Marley found out that Bill Craven is in the back
and looking for him, so the ring is the safest place for him to hide!

[Merc climbs the stairs while Wright and Masterson each enter on
opposite sides of the ring as Marley grabs a wireless mic from the
time keeper's table and slides under the bottom rope.]

RM: Hey Phoenix!  It's good to be back.

[Applause from the crowd for Marley's return, which Rick cuts short
with a slashing motion across his throat.]

RM: Yeah, I'm not sure you're gonna be too interested in doing that in
a second...y'see, we didn't come down here just to say hi.  What we're
in the middle of here is some serious business...some unfinished
business, actually...

Isn't that right, Tyrone?

[Parker slowly comes to his feet, a look of concern on his face as he
sees the positioning of the men in the ring with him, effectively
trapping him.]

RM: Did you think I forgot about you, Ty?  After all that time we
spent together in New York?

[Parker's eyes go wide as he notices who exactly is in the ring with
him, his head clearing from the fog it was in.  He starts shaking his
head, holding up his hands to Marley, then to Merc.]

RM: You DO remember!  Good.  That'll make this go so much smoother.
Merc, you want to show him the shirts?

[Merc nods and reaches behind him and pulls a black t shirt with a red
spider (complete with a black hourglass emblazoned on its back) on the
front  and tosses it to Parker, who immediately begins shaking his
head to Merc, then to Marley, his mouth moving rapidly.]

PW: It looks like a shirt with a spider on it...

CL: This could be bad, Putter...

RM: Tyrone, Tyrone, Tyrone.  You've owed this for a long time.  Back
in New York you did something to a group of people...you turned your
back on them.  Worse, you went and attacked them with some new
friends.  That's the thing, Parker.

In Widowmakers Inc, we always pay our debts.

[Parker takes a step forward just in time for Masterson and Wright to
pounce.  Masterson grabs Parker's shoulder to spin him around.]

CL: A big right hook, landing a cheap shot on the already battered
Tyrone Parker!  Parker's back on the mat!

PW: Whaddya mean, cheap shot?  Masterson turned him around so he could
see it coming!

CL: Masterson and Wright with vicious kicks to their fallen foe.
Wait, no, they're stopping... Masterson seems to be directing his
teammate to the top rope.  Nick "Always" Wright to the top turnbuckle!

PW: I bet this will be bad for Parker.  C'mon.  Take my bet.  Five
bucks.

CL: Masterson grabs the prone Parker by the throat and hoists him up
from the mat straight into a double-handed choke hold high above his
head!  Parker's turning blue!

PW: Last chance... five dollars could be yours if all Wright does is
shake his hand...

CL: A sucker bet if ever there was one!  Masterson lines up in front
of the turnbuckle, and WRIGHT LEAPS OFF, CATCHING PARKER IN A LARIAT!
THE UNMAKING, FROM THE MADE MEN!  PARKER, LIMP ON THE MAT!  Wright and
Masterson hover over their latest kill, self-satisfied!

PW: Well, wouldn't you be, if you had just made a fine man like myself
five dollars?  Pay up!

[While Parker is getting assaulted in the ring, Marley rolls out,
grabbing a folding chair from ringside and slides back into the ring.
He sets it up in the corner, sitting down and leaning forward to
Parker as a chorus of boos fills the arena.]

RM: I tried to do the good guy thing here, Tyrone.  I did what my big
brother asked and it got me CRUSHED.  Having one partner just isn't
enough anymore...at this point I need some people I can trust, and
there sure as hell weren't any of those here in PVW...which meant that
I needed to reach outside of the organization and BRING them to me.
The Mercenary. Mark Masterson.  Nick Wright.  Say hello to Widowmakers
Inc.  We're here to take your career away from you.

CL: Oh no!  What's Rick Marley doing?  He's setting that folding chair
up around Tyrone Parker's ankle!

PW: This isn't like the old Rick Marley...

CL: Of course not, this is grotesque!  This is despicable!  This is...

PW: PERFECT!  Finally some killer instinct!

CL: TOMMY RYDER HAS SEEN ENOUGH!  "THE PHENOM" IS RUNNING DOWN TO
RINGSIDE TO MAKE THE SAVE!

PW: Lady Laurel Leveninger doesn't seem to happy about that...she's
right behind him...

CL: Tommy up on the apron...and Levinger grabs his ankle, telling him
to leave it alone!

PW: That's right Tommy!  Live to fight another day!

CL: Tommy looking back and Levinger...AND THE MERCENARY COMES OVER AND
NEARLY TAKES HIS HEAD OFF WITH A HALIBURTON SHOT TO THE SKULL!  DOWN
GOES RYDER!

PW: Shoulda listened to his woman.

CL: Rick Marley is now on the top rope...and he jumps...AND BRINGS
BOTH FEET DOWN HARD ONTO THE STEEL CHAIR!  I THINK HE JUST SHATTERED
PARKER'S ANKLE!

PW: It looks like he's not done...he's moving it to his knee and doing
it again!

CL: AND AGAIN...THIS TIME ON THE KNEE!  Parker is in AGONY as Marley
tosses aside the chair...AND APPLIES THE SHOWSTOPPER!  SOMEBODY NEEDS
TO PUT A STOP TO THIS!

PW: And now that he's satisfied that Ryder won't be stopping anything,
except his own bleeding, Merc makes his way over to Parker and stands
in front of him, verbally abusing him even more.

[Since talking isn't really Merc's strong point, he gives up after a
few choice cuss words and then opens up the Haliburton to remove a
piece of paper]

PW: And now what's the hired gun up to? You never know what he's going
to pull out of that case, but a piece of paper?

CL: That's not a piece of paper... That's a WidowMaker's Inc bumper
sticker... and he just pasted it onto Tyrone's forehead.

[And to make sure that it stays in place, Merc lays the boots to
Tyrone's head, trying to drive the sticker through the back of
Parker's skull.]

LL: "I told you to stay out of this!"

CL: The Lady is beside herself with grief.

PW: She's also beside Ryder... or what's left of him.

CL: In the ring, the Widowmakers drink up the misery around them!
Wait... "Always" Wright seems to be eyeing up the sobbing Lady Laurel
Leveninger, who is berating Tommy Ryder that she told him not to go in
there, asking why doesn't he ever listen to her...

PW: She's not missing out on a chance for 'I told you so', is she?

CL: They've nodded to each other... what more could these monsters do?

PW: An idea brewing in these minds would be some strong stuff!

CL: Wright hurls himself into the ropes, takes a running start toward
Leveninger... LEAPS OVER THE TOP ROPE AND LANDS A SOMERSAULT ATTACK
DIRECTLY ON TOP OF LADY LAUREL LEVENINGER!

PW: Well, that stopped her crying, didn't it?  Anything to help a lady
come to terms with her grief.

CL: Wright back up to his feet, cackling!  The members of Widowmakers
Inc. in the ring join in the laughter!  Have they no decency?  Marley
dropping Parker and pantomiming rubbing his eyes.

PW: Wow...listen to those boos...I've never heard them get this loud
before...

CL: These guys are just pathetic.  I hope fines are passed out... Rick
Marley SOLD OUT!!!!   And lovely I just got word that Dean Hayes is
standing by with Paul Styles.

PW: Here we go.

[The camera cuts to backstage where "Rolemodel" Paul Styles and Dean
Hayes are casually sitting in what looks like a loading bay of The
Armory. It's generally quiet, likely recorded earlier in the day]

[Paul is dressed in a powder blue dress shirt under a black vest and a
powder blue/black tie, his usual wrestling attire. He also has on
small round glasses and has a PVW tag title belt over his shoulder and
the other resting in his lap so the camera can see it. Dean is in a
pale green PVW golf shirt]

Dean Hayes: I'm here with one half of the PVW tag team champions and
the fifth ranked contender to the PVW title "Rolemodel" Paul Styles.

[Dean and Paul casually shake hands]

DH: Paul... you know I don't like starting on a negative but you had
some problems on the last Heatwave... and frankly lost. Considering
how rarely "Rolemodel" Paul Styles loses I'm obligated to ask... what
happened?

[Paul's casual smile turns slightly unpleasant as he thinks over the
question]

PS: I can appreciate you needing to ask, Dean. Journalistic integrity
and all of that... but it isn't about losing. I'm a professional and
can deal with losing, it happens. But what happened on Heatwave wasn't
a wrestling match... it was a conspiracy. On the same night I sat here
and exposed Rob Cole's history of manipulation he shows up as a
depressed alcoholic?

DH: I recall your comments on Burning Effect... you don't believe
Rob's actually an alcoholic.

PS: Do you?

[Dean, startled to be asked, can be only shrug]

PS: It's pretty convenient that Rob Cole's become a down and out drunk
while PVW is trying to determine a number one contender. This company
is desperate for a feel-good story after Caleb Foley's cinderella run
blew up in their face. What's more inspirational, and marketable, then
veteran Rob Cole overcoming his personal demons and the odds to
hopefully win the PVW title and turn his life around? Am I the only
person that can see how lame that sounds? It's a cliched movie script!

DH: -IF-... a big if... but if it is a conspiracy does that mean
Foley, Brian Young, Outlaw and as we saw on Burning Effect even Chris
Hartt... are in on it?

[Paul's serious expression cracks a small smile]

PS: Dean... Brian Young is so small time he'd only be recruited into
something like this in his fantasies. He was just penciled into the
six man by chance and on Buring Effect the guy was pretending he
hadn't been bumped back down the card. The One ranted on for fifteen
minutes about Major Damage with every lame cliche he could think of
hoping that, eventually, he'd sound important. You know what he
sounded like instead, Dean?

[Dean shrugs]

PS: "The Golden One" Christopher Michaelson. You remember him? The
self important loser I chased to Japan?

DH: [unimpressed] Yeah... but what about the other guys? Are they
involved?

PS: Yes, Dean. It isn't Rob on his own even if his sidekicks don't
know what they're a part of... Rob's best friends are always
passionate but untalented... basically unthreatening. Rob's circus
show has already got them a big win... and now they get tag title
match... a -TITLE- match, Dean!

[Paul takes the belt off his shoulder and holds it as he talks]

PS: How do you think the crappy ranked tag teams feel about being
passed over? How are we even deciding who is getting tag title
matches? Because Outlaw has started pretending to be Rob Cole? Besides
them admitting to it what more do you need to see, Dean?

DH: I still have to call it a conspiracy theory Paul.

[Paul turns his head to look directly to Dean instead of both him and
the camera]

PS: You wanted to ask about Rob's drinking on Heatwave for the match?
He's faking it to get a wave of sympathy to ride to the PVW title.
What I've been doing is warning you, Dean. You're a cool enough guy
trying to become a reporter so I don't want to see you embarrassed and
lose your career because of Rob Cole's ego... Who knows more about Rob
Cole's history then me, Dean? He's faking it... don't let yourself be
tricked with everyone else and look foolish in a few months.

[Paul stands and holds both tag titles. He gives Dean a slight nod and
walks off camera as Dean remains seated with his gaze down, thinking
seriously about what Paul just said]

CL: We have that match coming up next.  Is it finally time for the
Royal Family to drop the titles to a worthy set of champions.

PW: Say what???





HD: This match is scheduled for one fall and for the PVW TAG TEAM
TITLES!!!

[Title Match Pop!]

HD: Introducing first the challengers...  Weighing in at two hundred
and ten pounds...


THE FIGHTING IRISHMAN ...


CALEB FOLEY!!!!


[All of a sudden "The Warriors Code" by The Dropkick Murphy's plays
over the PA. as the arena fills with cheers. On the jumbotron we see a
graphic and it reads "From Dublin, Ireland" CALEB FOLEY]

You're the fighter you've got the fire
The spirit of a warrior, the champion's heart
You fight for your life because the fighter never quits
You make the most of the hand you're dealt
Because the quitter never wins
No!

[The lights begin to flicker and the camera zooms into the entrance
way but "The Fighting Irishman" isn't there. The crowd begins to stir
as the camera does a complete 360 and is now zooming in on the crowd
and you see the fan favorite "The Fighting Irishman" Caleb Foley
sitting in the very front row. Sitting to his left is a female who
looks to be about Caleb's age and she is sitting there with reddish
hair and is wearing a white blouse top and a black mini skirt. Foley
stands up and starts bouncing to the beat of the music. He has his red
hair buzzcut and an eager look on his face. Dressed in all black, from
the kickpads to the boots and the jacket itself, Caleb stands up and
just stares into the ring. Foley looking completely focused for his
match tonight against Major Damage...]

You were born to box in a city that's seen their share
Mello, Ryan, Carney, among them your photo proudly hangs there
Above the bar in the Gaelic Club
They tell the story of a throwback
With the heart of a lion
They salute your glory

[Foley just smirks as he gives the young red head a kiss on the cheek.
Foley is getting up as the fans are patting him on the back. Foley has
now made it to the ring barricade. Foley is not taking his eyes off
the ring...]

It's another murderous right
Another left hook from hell
A bloody war on the boardwalk
And the kid from Lowell rises to the bell

[Foley then leaps over the barricade and begins to walk towards the
ring. Foley slides in the ring and climbs the turnbuckle. Foley then
raises both his arms over his head as the crowd cheers him on. Foley
backflips off the middle turnbuckle and then begins to stretch as the
red hair girl is cheering him on...]

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

HD: His partner... Hailing from Ottawa, Ontario, Canada.  Standing 6
feet tall, and weighing in at 210lbs...


Here is....


Outlaw !!!!


["Sucker Punch" by Envy on the Coast blares throughout the arena. A
pop from the crowd as Outlaw appears on the entryway.  Dressed in his
standard ring gear, camouflage shorts, and a PVW t-shirt, he
raises his arm to the crowd showing a pair of leather grapple gloves.
As usual, his brown hair hangs in his face.]

CL: These two have an interesting relationship.

PW: Outlaw has an "interesting" relationship with just about everyone.

CL: Can't argue with that.

HD: Their opponents... At a combined weight of 700 pounds ....  Led to
the ring by Carl Stevenson...




Paul Styles and Johnathan Monarch ....


Here is ...



YOUR TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS !!!!




THE ROYAL FAMILY !!!!




[The piano exit to Layla by Derek and The Dominos starts up and the
rumble of displeasure from the crowd significantly increases as
"Rolemodel" Paul Styles steps out from the locker room. The
confidently smiling Paul is dressed in a pale blue dress shirt with
small white stripes under a baby blue sweater vest with a white argyle
pattern on the front. It matches smoothly with his dark blue pants and
black dress shoes.  Emerging behind him is the large, but proud
Johnathan Monarch and the mastermind in the business, Carl Stevenson.
The trio begin heading to the ring as the fans boo loudly.]

PW: Bow to the greatest tag team ever!

CL: How do we know if Caleb Foley and Outlaw are the greatest tag team
ever.. This is the first time the duo has teamed together.

PW: HA HA...  Stop while you are ahead Chip.

CL: We don't know what kind of condition Monarch is in....

PW: Hopefully it was just a bug.

CL: Poor janitors. Paul Styles doesn't look that great himself.  He
seems to be huddled up with his team and well adjusting himself...

PW: Hey when their the size of Paul Styles...

CL: Okay stop right there!

[On the Production screen a video with pictures of nasty-looking
prostitutes making kissy faces at the camera, set to the tune from
Flipper with the following alternate lyrics:]

Baldwin's Voice: You follow up on this, and you can be like Paul.

Judd's Voice: How do you mean, Jack?

# He's got herpes, herpes, more painful than liiiiiightning,
# As you can seeeee, he's grosser than weeeeee.
# 'Cause he's got herpes, herpes
# Contracted from a craaaaaack ho...
# Why he did thaaaaat...we'll never knoooooow...

[The video cuts off abruptly to the pizza prep, with Baldwin putting
the laxatives in the pies and winking at the camera.]

Baldwin: I TOLD him to eat more ruffage.

[The video screen then contracts around Baldwin who smiles as the
"Looney Tunes" theme kicks up.

Baldwin: That's ALL, Folks!

[...and cuts off.]

PW: Why that no good dirty little...

CL: Folks I just got word that apparently the Wild Cards have been
behind these pranks on our tag team champions.  Apparently those
office Pizza's delievered at the top of the show were laced with
laxatives.

PW: Oh god how many people "ate" a slice.

CL: And I am getting word that Paul Styles dress pants that he usually
wrestles in was laced with "itching powder".

PW: This is a travesty!  How can the PVW tag team champions wrestle
under these condtions!?!?!


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

	Tag Team, PVW Tag Team Titles Match:
	Outlaw & Caleb Foley
	v. The Royal Family

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



<<<  DING DING   >>>

CL: I don't know, but there was the bell.

[Paul Styles still more than uncomfortable steps to the outside.  The
big man Johnathan Monarch a little green and under the weather steps
inside the ring ready to defend his championship belt.  Outlaw is
shaking his head no and pointing at Monarch telling Foley he has to
start the match off.]

CL: It appears neither man wants to begin things off with Monarch.

PW: Do you blame them?  Monarch is a beast.

CL: Apparently not only inside the ring.

[Caleb Foley is the unfortunate one and he starts things off.  He is
quick on his feet and begins circling the big Johnathan Monarch.
Monarch charges in, but Foley ducks underneath and stays light on his
feet as Monarch turns around glaring.]

CL: Caleb Foley one of the best all around athletes on the whole
roster.

PW: Devour him Monarch.

CL: Like a slice of pizza?

PW: Alright it's getting old!

[Monarch charges in a second time, but Foley stays fast on his feet
and ducks under again and finds himself across Monarch again.  Monarch
a bit frustrated bends down to hear what Carl Stevenson has to say.]

CL: Monarch doesn't seem to be totally focused.  Caleb Foley is firing
up the fans!




PIZZA ! !   PIZZA  ! !   PIZZA ! !


PIZZA ! !   PIZZA  ! !   PIZZA ! !


PIZZA ! !   PIZZA  ! !   PIZZA ! !



PW: These stupid fans.

CL: It appears they are rubbing it in a little bit.

[Monarch doesn't seem to please and Stevenson is turned around
screaming for them to shut up.  Caleb Foley hits the ropes and Monarch
with a BIG shoulder block and down goes the Fighting Irishman. Monarch
goes towards him, but Foley crawls between his legs and leaps up and
KICKS him square in the rear!]

CL: Foley with a kick right into the back side of Monarch.  Monarch
turns and Foley riffles a kick into his midsection.. Another kick...
Foley leaps up and KICKS HIM RIGHT INTO THE BACK OF MONARCHS HEAD!!!

PW: Big John is still on his feet...

[Foley back up and another leaping kick right into the back of
Monarchs head.. Monarch stumbling nearly falling over and Foley up and
hits the ropes and FOREARM SMASH THAT SENDS MONARCH TUMBLING THROUGH
THE MIDDLE ROPES AS THE FANS GO WILD!]

PW: Calm him down Stevenson.

CL: Caleb Foley is now in the center of the ring mocking Monarch doing
the Sumo stance!!!!




[LAUGHING POP!]




PW: Stevenson is calming Monarch down on the outside.

[Styles has now dropped off, but he is shaking his right leg as you
can tell that itching powder is starting to set in.]

CL: Styles is calling for Monarch to come on... The two begin to head
up the aisle way blowing Outlaw and FOley off!!!!

PW: Do you blame them.  The damn Wild Cards have ruined this match!

CL: Caleb Foley and Outlaw isn't having ANY of it!

[The crowd favorites have pursuit them up the aisle way and Carl
Stevenson attempted to stand in their path as if he was Gandalf and HE
IS RAN RIGHT OVER!!!  Styles notices the two head up from the corner
of his eye and leaps behind Monarch...  Outlaw and Foley both begin to
unreel rights on Monarch!!!  Styles looks like he is going to strike,
but Outlaw turns and grins and Styles quickly leaps over the guard
rail...]

CL: Outlaw and Foley now have Monarch and are bringing him back to the
ring!!!!

PW: This is a travesty.

CL: THEY ROLL HIM IN!!!!!! Carl Stevenson is on Outlaw's leg now...
Outlaw is trying to shake him off like he is a dog hanging on...

[Inside the ring Monarch is up and Foley goes for another kick, but he
catches it... The Fighting Irishman brings his other foot up and
smacks him in the face with it.  Foley quickly back up and another
kick... Right... Left... Another right, but Monarch blocks it and
BRINGS DOWN his huge massive fist dropping Foley to the ground with
one punch.]

CL: Outlaw has now shaken Stevenson loose and has returned to the ring
apron.   Monarch pulls Foley up and begins choking him with the second
turnbuckle as referee Duke Martin counts...


One ...


Two ...


Three ...


Four ...


[Monarch drops the choke and pulls him up by his head and charges him
towards the opposite ropes and SENDS him tumbling over the top ropes
to the outside!!!  Stevenson is close by and appears to be walking
close to get a cheap shot, but OUTLAW is right there to protect his
partner... Stevenson holds his hands up and begins backing away...
Paul Styles who has been hiding from earlier rushes up and - ]




"___PUUUUNNNT___"




CL: STYLES WITH A CHEAP SHOT!

[Foley climbs to the side of the ring apron and Monarch brings down a
big fist and sends him back down to the outside. Foley slowly climbs
back up and Monarch goes for another stop, but Foley blocks it!!!  He
tosses a right.. Left... Climbs the ropes and SUNSET FLIP OVER ....
Monarch holding his stance and leaps to squash Foley...]




"___TWWAAPPPP___"




[HUGE POP!!]




CL: FOLEY JUST GOT OUT OF THE WAY .... He hit the ropes and DROPKICK
TO THE BACK OF MONARCHS HEAD!!!!  He makes the tag to Outlaw who is
ascending to the top of the ropes and HE LEAPS AND LANDS RIGHT ON THE
BIG MAN!!!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE ???




PW: NOT THIS TIME SUCKERS!!!!

CL: Monarch just gets a shoulder up.  We almost had new tag team
champions.  Outlaw has the big man up and he fires off rights and
chops backing him up into the corner... He backs away and takes off
for a big Outlaw Splash, but Monarch CATCHES HIM...  He has him in a
big Bear Hug now and is squeezing away.

PW: What was _THE_ Outlaw thinking?

CL: Outlaw is in some trouble here... If Monarch can clinch it a bit
higher then he will have the Career Killer...

[Caleb Foley has snuck in behind and LEAPS ON THE BACK OF MONARCH....
We now have Monarch with Outlaw inside a big bear hug and now Foley
hanging on his back.  Duke Martin is trying to force him out and Paul
Styles is inside the ring and has a pair of brass knuckles around his
fingers...]

CL: Turn around Ref!!

PW: Say good night Outlaw!!!

[Styles goes to swing, but Outlaw and Monarch were too close and
Outlaw was able to dodge the shot and --]




"___CRRAAACCKKK___"




CL: STYLES JUST NAILED MONARCH!!!!!!  HE CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!!

PW: THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!

[Foley has slid off and begins unreeling rights and lefts on Styles
and SENDS HIM RIGHT OVER THE TOP ROPES ...  Outlaw is on top of
Monarch...  We just need the three count and he HAVE new PVW Tag Team
Champions...]




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE !!!




CL: YESS!!!!!




[TEAR DOWN THE ROOF HEEL POP!!!]




PW: STEVENSON JUST PLACED ONE OF MONARCH'S BIG LEGS ON THE BOTTOM
ROPES AND DUKE MARTIN HIS HOLDING UP TWO FINGERS!





BULL SHIT ! ! !   BULL SHIT ! ! !   BULL SHIT ! ! !


BULL SHIT ! ! !   BULL SHIT ! ! !   BULL SHIT ! ! !


BULL SHIT ! ! !   BULL SHIT ! ! !   BULL SHIT ! ! !


BULL SHIT ! ! !   BULL SHIT ! ! !   BULL SHIT ! ! !


BULL SHIT ! ! !   BULL SHIT ! ! !   BULL SHIT ! ! !





[Outlaw is quickly back up and grabs the ankle of Monarch and goes to
twist, but drops the ankle with a look of total death on his face...]

CL: What happened?

PW: Now that's what you call a counter.  Thank the Wild Cards for
that!

[Outlaw walks over and tags Caleb Foley who just returned to the
outside.  Foley quickly walks in and does a 360 and walks back and
retags in Outlaw.  You hear Outlaw scream out, [bleep] [bleep]
[bleep].  He steps into the ring and quickly turns for the tag, but
Foley raises both arms saying No way man!]

PW: We call that the SBD counter.

CL: with a little extra thump.

[Outlaw comes closer holding his nose and fanning his face.  As he
gets close to the danger zone Monarch pulls him down face first into
the turnbuckle.  Monarch slowly makes his way up and the now slumped
Outlaw is in danger...  Monarch charges and NAILS OUTLAW WITH A
BACKWARDS SPLASH backing all his weight face first into Outlaw.]

CL: Oh god...

PW: Outlaw is dead!!!!



[The Fans groan feeling for Outlaw as Monarch presses down with his
rear and weight on top of Outlaw's face.]

PW: The Outlaw is flailing!!!

CL: I am going to be sick.

[Caleb Foley has a look of, "I'm sorry man" across his face. Monarch
pulls the near limp body of Outlaw to the center of the ring and slaps
the hand of Paul Styles.  Paul Styles quickly rushes in and drops a
knee on Outlaw.  He hooks a leg....]

PW: STYLES WITH THE WIN!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE ...




[FACE POP!]




CL: OUTLAW WITH A SHOULDER UP!

PW: What is The Outlaw doing!?!?!

[Paul Styles drops down drilling Outlaw with a dozen or more closed
fists. Styles hops up and keeps hopping.]

CL:  It appears the more Styles sweats the more discomfort he has.

PW: Concentrate Styles.

[Styles grabs Outlaws leg and begins to twist into the figure four,
but Outlaw leans up and ROLLS STYLES UP ...]




ONE ...




TWO ...




CL: Styles with a kick out and begins to crawl towards his corner to
tag in Monarch, but Outlaw grabs Styles heel...  Styles tries to shake
it off, but Outlaw drags him all the way across the ring and TAGS in
Foley!!!

PW: Look!

[We have a big heel chorus of jeers from the fans as the PVW
Heavyweight Champion begins to walk down the aisle way.  With his
title on his right shoulder he slowly begins to make his way down.]

CL: Chase Williams isn't needed down here!

PW: He just wants a front row seat on the finish of Foley.

[Foley and Outlaw have Paul Styles up and Outlaw with a big back
breaker on Styles and holds him there as Foley leaps off the top ropes
with a legdrop.... Foley hooks the leg!  However Stevenson is on the
ring apron distracting the referee... Finally Duke Martin notices the
cover and slides down for the count.]




ONE ...




TWO ...




[HEEL POP!]




CL: Styles just gets a shoulder up.

PW: Man this match has me sweating...

[Caleb Foley has Styles clearly away from Monarch and his corner.  He
has spotted Chase Williams now roaming ring side.  Foley begins
viciously nailing Styles attempting to send a message to Chase
Williams.  He whips Styles into the ropes and catches him in a ring
shaking SPINEBUSTER!!!]

CL: Foley trying to send the champion a message.

PW: Foley is letting Chase get into his head.  He isn't even covering
Styles.

[Styles begins crawling back to his corner and Foley charges and
connects with a running knee smash.  He yanks The Rolemodel up and
locks on a full nelson and lifts him high in the air --]




"___THHUUUDDD___"




CL: FULL NELSON SLAM!

PW: Come on Monarch!!!

[Caleb Foley runs up the ropes and Springboard Moonsault the cover!!!]




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE !!!



[HEEL POP!]




CL: Paul Styles _just_ got a leg on the bottom ropes.  We were a
millisecond away from new tag team champions.

PW: Stevenson seems to be on his last nerve!!

CL: Foley is setting things up....

PW: This isn't good...

[As Styles makes his way to his feet he is quickly taken off his feet
with a SPEAR....  As he gets ready to land the Standing Moonsault he
is nailed over the back by Johnathan Monarch with a double axe
handle...  Outlaw ascends to the ropes and DIVES off drilling Monarch
like a Scud Missile.]

CL: Foley landed 1/2 of An Irish Blessing, but Monarch was there to
make the save... Outlaw now has Monarch up and steps back --




"___THUDDDDD___"




CL: SUPERKICK AND MONARCH GOES THROUGH THE ROPES!!!

PW: This match has been a total nightmare.

CL: Outlaw shrugs and takes off DIVING THROUGH THE ROPES AND RIGHT
INTO ONE HALF OF THE TAG TEAM CHAMPION!!!!




P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !


P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !


P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !


P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !   P - V - W ! ! !



[Both Styles and Caleb Foley are back up... Styles drops and goes for
a low blow, but Foley stops his hand...  He pulls him up by his arm
and DDT!!!!!!]




"___THHHUUUDDDD___"




[HUGE POP!]




CL: FOLEY IN TOTAL CONTROL... He is headed to the ropes to land An
Irish Blessing, but Chase Williams has just leaped on the ring apron
and --




"___CCRRAAAACCCCKKK___"




PW: STEVENSON HAS DUKE MARTIN'S ATTENTION POINTING AT OUTLAW AND
MONARCH!!!

CL: THE CHAMPION JUST NAILED FOLEY WITH THAT TITLE BELT AGAIN!

[Paul Styles crawls over and lays an arm over Foley.... Stevenson
drops down allowing Martin to count...]




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE !!!




[HEEL POP!]




PW: Even on a day that the world was against them.. The Royal Family
have found a way to over come!

CL: This is unbelievable...  Outlaw and Caleb Foley seemed to have
this match won and it was just a matter of time until they became the
PVW Tag Team Champions and a visit from Chase Williams spoiled
everything.

PW: Apparently Chase Williams didn't like the fact that Caleb Foley
has been walking around claiming he almost beat the champion and the
next time he would.

[Outlaw has now rolled into the ring and checking over his partner and
Styles, Monarch, Stevenson, and Williams stand on the outside...
Outlaw dares Williams to come inside the ring, but the message has
been sent.]

CL: I don't know what to say... What did we just see?

PW: The Royal Family over come all...  Chase Williams return back to
dominance.  I guess his knee injury isn't that bad after all.

CL: This has to stop.  First they took out Brian Young and now Caleb
Foley.  Rob Cole is standing by as he prepares to come up next!

PW: Is he drunk?

[Swingin’ Dean Hayes rushes backstage as the audience anticipation for
the Main Event begins to build.  He stops and takes a step back,
swallowing hard as he stares at the back of Rob Cole as he stands
behind the entrance curtain.  He’s breathing deeply, shoulders hunched
with feral tension as he leans forward... waiting for his cue... But
Dean
has a job to do and he tries to do it.]

DH: Rob!  You’ve been quiet all week... and then, as the show came on
the air, you let the camera in to listen to what you had to say.  But
there’s a lot left unsaid... a lot of things going on in the PVW...
people
want to know what Rob Cole has to say about everything!

[Cole breathes in deeply... he keeps his back to the camera, waiting.]

DH: Paul Styles...

RC: Doesn’t exist.

DH: Uhm... the Royal Family alliance with Chase Williams...

RC: Doesn’t matter.

DH: You were drunk at the last show...

RC: Not anymore.

DH: You left your partners in the lurch...

RC: I don’t have any partners.

[Dean Hayes is growing frustrated as Cole continues to grow tense,
continues to wait for his theme music to play.  The crowd erupts as
the lights are turned down...]

DH: What about Outlaw dressing up as you?  Didn’t that humiliate you?

[Cole turns his head, and we see him smirk... He turns away again.]

RC: You’re under the mistaken impression that I care, Dean-o... the
only
thing set before me now is Spectre and the blood.  Do you smell it?
Breathe in the copper taste, heavier than water by only a bit, red as
a rose and sweeter than candy. The crowd knows it is coming, feels it
coming, hears it on the wind and feels it with a brush of their
darkest desires.  Something wicked this way comes...  they remember my
name.

[Dean Hayes swallows and falls silent... and the crowd begins to chant
outside in the arena.  Cole laughs a little... but only a little.  The
crowd begins to roar and we switch camera to the arena... dark with
anticipation.]





"COLE !!    COLE !!        COLE !!"





"COLE !!    COLE !!        COLE !!"





"COLE !!    COLE !!        COLE !!"





"COLE !!    COLE !!        COLE !!"




HD: It's time for our Four Corners Strap Match!

[Pop!]

CL: I am curious what kind of condition Rob Cole will be in.

PW: Or mental mind frame that Spectre will be in.

HD: THE FOLLOWING CONTEST IS... THE FOUR CORNERS STRAP MATCH!

[Pop!]

CL: I am curious what kind of condition Rob Cole will be in.

PW: Or mental mind frame that Spectre will be in.

HD: INTRODUCING FIRST...

	FROM NEW YORK CITY...   WEIGHING IN AT TWO-HUNDRED SEVENTY-
	FOUR POUNDS...


HERE IS...


	T H E     S P E C T R E !!!!



[The arena lights suddenly cut to pitch black without warning.  Over
the PA system, the faint sound of a heartbeat begins after ten seconds
of complete silence.

Thump-thump

Thump-thump

Thump-thump

"Do you fear the Dark?" a gravelly voice asks in a whisper.

A single red spotlight cuts through the blackness, illuminating the
solitary form of The Spectre as "Beautiful People" by Marilyn Manson
cuts in over the PA System.  Spectre, clad in a pair of cutoff jeans,
a black t shirt and combat boots stands with his taped forearms held
up at angles away from his pale, scarred body as the combination of
his dark dreadlocks and the red lighting paints a ghastly picture over
the ghoulish wrestler.

As the music picks up, the lights start flashing in time with the
beat, creating almost a stobe-effect as The Spectre makes his way
towards the ring, ignoring the fans lining the aisles.  As he reaches
the apron, the pale skinned grappler speeds up to a run and slides
smoothly under the bottom rope, standing and stalking towards the
ropes in front of the announce table.  Climbing to the second rope, he
stares coldly at the announce team for a moment before stepping down
and moving to his corner to await the start of the match.]

CL: The Spectre is an awesome presence, but he may be facing a rare
opponent who will not be intimidated.

PW: True, but it's not like your level of intimidation can cushion you
against head trauma.


#When you're talkin to yourself#
#And nobody's home#
#You can fool yourself#
#You came in this world alone#

#[whispered] Alone#


PW: I think it's safe to say Spectre is in the same mind frame he is
always in.  That's dangerous for Rob Cole.  Will Cole be sober enough
to feel the beating is the question?

CL: We can only hope The Outcast has gotten his life on the right
path.


HD: AND HIS OPPONENT...

[The fans give the obligatory "And his opponent" pop, knowing that
their favorite for this match is on the way.]


HD: FROM HUDSON VALLEY, NEW YORK... WEIGHING IN AT TWO-HUNDRED EIGHTY
SIX POUNDS...


HERE IS....


	R O B   C O L E !!!!


["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.]

CL: Rob Cole is looking for payback tonight after the Spectre
assaulted him... after a couple of rough weeks, it looks like the
Outcast is back in business and ready to take care of things!

PW: Spectre is looking to finish the so-called "Legend" off, my
friend... Cole doesn’t stand a chance.  He’s been wallowing in the
sauce, hasn’t been focused, and he’s all but finished in this title
hunt of his... his whole career is hanging by a shoe-string!




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

	One on One, 4 Corners Strap Match:
	Rob Cole
	v. Spectre

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



[The camera provides a nice long shot of that ten-foot long leather
strap to which both men will be connected.  The Spectre has already
donned his end of the strap, and as Cole enters the ring, he takes the
other end from the referee, and reaches out towards Cole.  Grinning
like a Cheshire Cat, Spectre offers Cole the other end of the strap.]

CL: And look at Spectre.  You know he's trying to sucker Rob Cole in.

[Cole marches up with an intent look in his eye, staring straight into
the eyes of the Spectre.  He reaches out, takes the offered strap, and
begins calmly attaching it to his own wrist.  Cole's body language is
completely unhurried and normal, as the Spectre stands almost as if at
attention... both men glaring into the other's eyes.  Spectre still
bears his grin, and Cole bears a scowl.]

PW: Wow... staredown.  I mean, this staredown would probably be enough
to force a lesser man to tap out, Chip.  The Spectre is waiting
patiently, and Cole's not gonna give him the dignity of jumping the
gun!  It's like two guys with matches in a munitions dump!

[The crowd is into the staredown, as Cole finishes attaching the
strap.  Referee Duke Martin calls for the bell.]


<<<  DING DING   >>>



[And we're underway!

But neither man makes a move.]


CL: Neither of these two wants the onus of losing the staredown.
They're here to do more than test their bodies against one another.
They are matching _wills_!


PW: Uhm... this is getting uncomfortable.


[Indeed it is, but both men are holding their ground, completely
unwilling to defer to the other.

In fact, it's almost a Providential act that breaks up the stalemate,
as Duke Martin (whom you would think has the easiest job of the night)
nervously moves around both men.  He almost trips over the strap, and
so has to pull it off of his foot.

Both men feel the tug of the strap, and both immediately assume the
other man is trying to reel it in to get the first control of the
match's primary weapon.  So both start grabbing for leather, pulling
in as much strap as they can.  They meet in the middle, and again lock
eyes...]


CL: Uh, oh!  They both thought the other was taking the strap, and now
they're in a tug of war!


[...but this time, both men simultaneously launch crushing punches,
connecting with the other man's face!  And the donnybrook is on, to
the approval of the crowd.]


PW: They're throwing down now, Chip!


CL: Two monsters colliding in the center of the ring with a flurry of
blows, that leather strap wrapped around two fists as each man trades
rights and lefts... Spectre a little faster with his shots, doubling
up on each one of Coles’ own shots and forcing the Outcast to the
ropes!  There’s the irish whip, and he ducks for back body drop...



PW: No!  Too soon!



[Cole puts on the breaks, snatches a length of strap and swings it
down across the back! The crowd gasps at the stinging sound that
brings Spectre to one knee... another crack of the whip brings the
goth to his feet and he spins to face Cole, and gets a crack across
the top of his head!]



CL: Cole pulls the strap tight around the neck, forcing Spectre to his
feet... he hauls him around the ring and drives him HARD into the
corner!  Shoulder to the gut!  Another one!



PW: Cole doubles Spectre over... he pulls the hair up and... oh that’s
disgusting!



[The crowd gives a disgusted gasp as Cole leans in and licks the back
of Spectre’s neck with a strange gleam in his eyes... he rises and
CRACKS that looped leather across the back of the Goths wet neck!  The
goth drops to one knee... and Cole wrenches his back and SPITS in his
face!]


PW: And here I thought it'd be Spectre who got aroused by the leather
strap... yeesh.


CL: Cole is trying to send a message, but I wonder if that doesn't
play into Spectre's hands.  That's what he WANTS from Cole: savagery.
Cole wrapping the strap around Spectre's neck, and snapmaring him
down!  OH!  That's painful...


[Cole has Spectre on his back, with the strap wrapped around his neck.
He has a foot in Spectre's asophagus, and is pulling up.  That's like
a choke, but instead of choking, it's trying to break Spectre's neck!]


PW: Oh, man!  He does mean business, Chip, you break a man's neck that
way!


CL: I'm sure that's the idea.  Spectre grabbing the right foot of
Cole, and twists... drags the Monster down to the mat!


PW: Look, I know that's Rob Cole's nickname, but they're both monsters
in there.  Let's stick to the names, okay?


CL: Spectre has a front facelock hooked in, and you know the only
reason he'd use a move like this is to get control of a man to do
something nasty.


PW: Also to choke.


CL: Yes, that too.


[Spectre comes up on top of Cole, knees him in the face, and thus both
men get to standing.  The Gothic warrior boots Cole in the ribs, wraps
the strap around his neck, and twists him violently to the mat!]


CL: SWINGING NECKBREAKER USING THE STRAP!  And right into a choke!


PW: He's choking him with the strap and kneeing him in the ribs at the
same time.  Now that's effeciency.


CL: Cole trying to fight back from his back, as Spectre is on top of
him.  Thumb to the eye breaks that up, and the two men brawling on the
canvas now!  Rights and lefts by both of them!  Cole surging up to his
feet...


[As Rob rises, Spectre peppers him with some jabs.  Cole answers one
big looping punch for every three jabs, and when the Monster retakes
his feet, he uncorks a big roundhouse right that floors the Spectre!
Spectre rolls to his feet, immediately, and grabs for some leather...
but Cole has had the chance to do the same!]





PW: OW!  They both had the same idea!  They whipped each other!





CL: And again!  Each man with half the strap, and they are laying into
it!





PW: Ugh!  It's another test of wills, is what it is!  Who will break
down first?










[The fans roar with each shot, as these two attack each other with the
strap!  Angry red welts rise up, as both men's shirts have been torn
under this onslaught.  And there is a brief pause... with they both
seize upon!]


CL: Cole launches a stiff forearm...





PW: ...BUT SPECTRE POWERED THROUGH IT, BABY!


CL: Overhead belly-to-belly, and he got the larger man over with ease!
Spectre with a HUGE grin on his face, and if he loves pain, he has to
be loving this match.  It's all about pain!


PW: Yeah, but pain motivates Cole.  He don't like it, but it makes him
stronger!


CL: What's Spectre doing now?  He's using the strap to tie Cole's feet
together!


PW: Oh, man!  I knew he was into this sort of thing.  But I didn't
think he'd do this in a MATCH!


CL: Whatever train of thought you were on, Putter, please jump the
track now.


PW: I'll tell you who's about to jump a track, Chip!  Look what
Spectre's doing!


CL: Picking up Cole... OVER THE TOP ROPE!  Spectre threw Cole out like
a garbage bag, and with his ankles tied together!


[Spectre slides under the bottom rope after Cole, heedless of the fact
that this means the connecting strap between them is hung up in the
ring ropes... one end over the top and the other under the bottom
rope.  And this seems to be the idea... Spectre pulls on his end of
the strap, and Cole's body lifts off of the floor!  His feet are
lifted, causing his upper body to be the only part of Cole touching
the ground.]


PW: He's raising Cole like a flag, Chip!  And I don't see anyone
saluting!


CL: What a tactic!  Rob Cole is wide open, with no way to defend
himself!  And the Spectre is whaling on him!  Boot after boot!


[Spectre stomps and stomps at Cole's face like a man possessed.  Each
stomp bounces the Monster's head into the concrete floor, dribbling it
like a basketball!  The fans boo mightily, but there's seemingly
nothing Cole can do about it.]


PW: This has got to crack open Cole's skull like an egg!


CL: Spectre backing up... and DRIVING the knee down into the head!  A
crushing blow, and the Spectre can't be counted out here, so there's
nothing forcing him to stop.


PW: Well, Cole just got his feet untied, so that'll help.  I can't
believe that didn't bust him open.


CL: The Spectre rolls into the ring, and I have to say that I am
surprised that he is breaking off the attack!  What is he up to?


[Why, removing the turnbuckle pad, of course.  Spectre wastes little
time in ripping the padding off of the top turnbuckle in the nearest
corner... and then repeating the process on the second turnbuckle!]


PW: Huh?  Why is he doing THAT?


CL: I've rarely seen anyone remove the padding from the second
turnbuckle, but he won't get further as Cole is up on the apron.  Cole
hits him with a hard shot to the face.  And another.  And another!


PW: He's not even bothering to get back in the ring, he's just beating
him up from the apron!


[Spectre staggers... and then shoves his enemy.  Cole clutches the top
rope with both hands to keep from going back first to the floor...
which is exactly what Spectre wanted.  He yanks on the top rope,
catapulting Cole into the ring the hard way!]


PW: Ha ha!  Brilliant!


CL: Spectre is treacherous and deadly, we all know that.  As is his
opponent, so he needs to control the match.  Spectre lifting Cole,
waistlock...





CL: ...BRILLIANT SIDE WAISTLOCK SUPLEX!  He drove Cole almost onto his
head, and now the Spectre is in complete control!


PW: It won't take many more shots like that, Chip.  Not even Cole is
THAT tough.


CL: Spectre hoists Rob Cole up... Irish-Whip... INTO THE EXPOSED
STEEL!  Spectre sent him to the corner in which he removed the
turnbuckles, and Cole is reeling!


PW: Even more now!  Spectre followed up with a clothesline!


[Cole slumps into the corner, in a seated position.  His head rests on
the second turnbuckle, which is also now exposed.  Spectre runs back
to the opposite corner, dashes stright at Cole... and the resulting
THUNK of metal against bone echoes throughout the arena!  The fans
react with a huge mixed pop for the vicious, vicious blow, as Spectre
crushes Cole's head with a running knee that slams the back of his
head into the exposed steel!]


CL: GOOD GRIEF!  THAT HAS GOT TO BE A CONCUSSION!


PW: If not a fractured skull!


CL: LOOK AT THAT!


[Rob Cole is now busted open... in the BACK of the head!  Spectre sees
this and gleefully commences biting the wound.  He rides Cole to the
canvas, biting the whole time.]


PW: Well, I've never seen a jawlock takedown, or whatever you want to
call that bizarre cross between wrestling and cannibalism.


CL: It's savagery, but we expected that coming in.  Cole may be
seriously injured... but he's fighting!  Elbow, and a sitout-go
behind... right to a rabbit punch on the Spectre!  Cole getting up...
uh oh.


[As Cole gets to his feet, he sees the blood on Spectre's lips.  This
prompts him to check the back of his head... and he does not like what
he finds.  His anger level shoots even higher.]


CL: Rob Cole exploding into an offensive flurry!  Knee, right, left,
knee, elbow, left, right, chop, knee... what an attack!  Right, left,
knee, headbutt!


PW: You'd have to be dumb as a brick to use a headbutt right now.


CL: I disagree, but Cole's anger got the better of him!  He is hurt!
His own headbutt stopped him cold, and Spectre is firing back!  Body
shots doubling Cole over, and a big clubbing double axehandle to the
back of the head drops Cole to a knee!  And then he grabs the hair and
spikes him, back first to the canvas!  But look at Spectre... there is
a tiny dribble of blood on his own forehead.


PW: Are you joking?  That's barely a scratch.  And with how short that
offense lasted?  Cole may be finished.


CL: Spectre seems to think so too!  He looks almost disgusted, as he
picks up Cole... WHO ERUPTS INTO AN INVERTED ATOMIC DROP!  AND
ANOTHER!  AND ANOTHER!


PW: Ow, ow, and OW!  Repeated inverted atomic drops!


CL: And a big clothesline levels the Spectre at the end of that
series!  Cole has the strap in hand now...





PW: ACROSS THE EYES, CHIP!  He tried to blind him for life!


CL: Rob Cole can go into the gutter with the worst of them, and now
he's coiling up the strap.  I have no idea why, but Spectre is
momentarily... we hope... blinded!


[Once he has coiled some strap around his thumb, Rob Cole steps in
short and snatches a gutwrench, hoisting Spectre up and over with a
pop of his hips... and goes into a side mount, but immediately fish-
hooks the eye socket!  He grabs a handful of hair for further leverage
and DRIVES his knee into the side of Spectre's skull!  Immediately, he
rises and does it again!  And AGAIN!  The crowd is on their feet as
Cole hauls the gothic brawler to a seated position, keeping his finger
fishooked beneath the brow; kneeling behind him.]


CL: Rob Cole fish-hooking the eyesocket... and now with another
fishook at the mouth and he grinds the back of the skull against his
knee, stretching the face of Spectre!  He might be trying to tear off
the gothic star's face!


PW: I don't put it past Cole at all... he's been crazy since getting
smacked up by Spectre a few weeks back, and this is just sickening!
He really is going down into the gutter just like you said!


CL: Since getting smacked by Spectre?  I don’t think he was exactly
/sane/ before that moment.


PW: Me neither.


CL: And with what Spectre has done in this match, with no
disqualification, I'm not passing judgement on him for it.


[Cole releases one of the fish-hooks and wraps the strap around the
face, looping it over the mouth so it resembles a bridle as he
wrenches back with first one hand and then the next as he releases the
eye socket!]


CL: Rob Cole cinching back on this modified chinlock...


PW: Chin?!  He's bridling Spectre with that leather strap... someone
has to do something to stop him!


[Rob Cole leans back, and starts to laugh maniacally... he shakes his
head, his blood-matted hair flying every which way as the laughter
erupts from his chest.  He finally shoves Spectre to the mat, and
stands above him, smiling.]


CL: Rob Cole living up to his reputation the Monster Beneath the Bed
tonight, as the Spectre has wounded him and he has responded!


PW: What’s he doing with the leather strap?


[Cole extends the loop of leather he had twisted and wrapped around
his thumb as he stares down at Spectre... as the other man finally
manages to crawl to his knees, Cole steps quickly to the side and
snaps the coiled lengths of strap around the goths’ face and cinches
it tight with another knee to the back of the skull!  The crowd gives
a bloodthirsty roar!]


CL: GOOD GOD!  HE’S SAWING THE TWISTED LEATHER AROUND THE SKULL OF
SPECTRE!


PW: It’s like... he created some sort of spiral, like a drill... the
edges of the strap are sawing at that small cut on the Spectre's head!
It's not gonna be small for long!


[Cole continues to saw, the referee taking a few steps back with his
mouth open in shock as blood begins to dribble from the shortly opened
gash across the forehead of Spectre!  Coles’ own eyes alight with joy
as he sees the crimson flow begin.]


CL: Spectre now bleeding from the front of the head, Cole from the
back of the head...





CL: ...and these strap shots to the forehead of Spectre are not doing
him any favors!





PW: He's smiling.  I mean, we KNEW he'd be smiling.  But... I will
never, ever get used to that!


CL: Spectre smiling from taking the pain, or Cole smiling from dishing
it?


PW: Both!


CL: Cole picking up Spectre... and runs HIM into the exposed buckle!
Spectre taking a taste of his own medicine, and it is not to his
liking!


PW: Oh, I think it is.  Remember why he wanted Cole in the first
place!


[Cole maneuvers the strapped hand of the Spectre across his neck, and
applies a Cobra Clutch... but instead of pulling on Spectre's wrist,
he pulls on the strap... wrapping it around Spectre's neck!]


CL: LOOK AT THIS!  Cobra Clutch chokeout with the strap!


PW: This is the kind of move that can beat the Spectre, Chip!  It
don't matter how much pain you like if you're out!


CL: Cole is leaning on him, trying to bring his weight advantage to
bear!  Spectre turning into the move... unloads on the midsection!


[The Spectre has, indeed, bent over and moved to the side, to expose
Cole's midsection to attack.  He proceeds to punch him in the gut
eight times in rapid succession.]


PW: Ow!  He's firing like a piston in there!


CL: That will have to loosen Cole's grip!


[It does, as the Spectre forces his trapped hand out a bit, giving him
breathing room despite the strap still being wrapped all the way
around.  Spectre uses his free arm to get a loop of strap, and wrap it
around Cole's neck.]


CL: They are both choking each other now!


PW: Another test of wills!  These two won't stop!


[Cole angrily abandons the Clutch in favor of a more conventional
choke, as Spectre's trapped arm is now only serving to keep the strap
off of his throat.  Spectre quickly brings that arm to his forehead,
and wipes the blood off... and then rakes Cole's eyes with it to the
disgusted boos of the fans!]


CL: AUGH!  He... I CAN'T BELIEVE HE JUST DID THAT!


PW: I'm telling you!  You make Spectre bleed, and he will use his own
blood to kick your ass!  Now that's what I call  dangerous!


CL: The Spectre used his own blood to bling Cole, and now he's
securing the strap around Cole's neck... OH, NO!


[The demonic Spectre Irish-Whips Cole using the strap around his
neck... but with a sickening snap, he JERKS back hard on the strap!
The lower half of Cole's body goes right out from under him as his
neck is nearly snapped in two!]


PW: HE BROKE HIS NECK!


CL: IS HE MOVING?!  IS ROB COLE MOVING?!


[The announcers are silent for a moment before it becomes apparent
that yes, Cole is moving.  His legs are thrashing about, albeit
weakly.  Spectre executes a couple of strap-assisted fistdrops in the
meanwhile.]


CL: I am sure that the Spectre just attempted to break Cole's neck!
Again, we had to expect this in this type of match, but to see it
happen makes my stomach churn and my skin crawl!


PW: Thanks for the heads-up, I'll get you a puke bag so you don't use
my jacket.  Because If Spectre TRYING to kill Cole sickens you, what
will you do when he succeeds?  There's no time limit, no
disqualification... he doesn't have to stop!  Ever!


CL: Thanks for the visual.


[Spectre continues to rain down the attacks... punches and kicks, and
even an elbow drop.  Cole crawls toawrds the ropes, weathering these
blows as best he can, but he's clearly hurt.  Spectre rips the last
tattered remnant of Cole's shirt off, and returns to the use of the
strap.]






[* T H W A C K ! * ]


PW: No place left for the Outcast to crawl... no place to run... these
two are connected at the wrist, and Spectre is taking firm advantage
to whip the years of advantage out of the Outcast!



CL: Both men have drawn blood tonight!  Spectre stalking his prey,
trapping Cole in the corner... and he starts gnawing at Coles’ skull
once again...  WAIT!  COLE WITH A MOUTHFUL OF WRIST!



[Both men bite ravenously, and the referee eventually pulls them off
one another... each man having drawn blood from the other as they wipe
their mouths.  Spectre moves in, but Cole blocks the fist and launches
in with a bite to the already bleeding forehead!  The referee tries to
pull him away and both men stagger to the center of the ring.]



PW:  They’re like rabid beasts in there!  Spectre just opened the
FRONT of Cole's head, and Cole just opened Spectre's wrist!  And if he
had gotten those two arteries under the wrist instead of the back of
it... I think that's what he was going for, Chip!



CL: In THIS match?  Against THIS man?  Can I blame him?!  And Cole
with a double leg takedown!  He immediately starts to rain down blows
on Spectre... who reverses their positions and starts raining down
shots on Cole!



[The crowd roars as Cole loops the strap around the back of Spectres
head... and yanks him down into a snapped headbutt!  He reverses their
positions and yanks the strap up as he delivers a headbutt down!  Then
Cole yanks the cord up again, driving down a second headbutt.. and he
immediately starts to twist the leather around his fist!]


PW: Concussion or no, Cole is using that headbutt, and I think he'll
drop some IQ points after this is over.  Heck, he probably dropped
some IQ points signing up for it!


CL: POUNDING AWAY!  That leather-wrapped fist is like a knuckle-
duster.  More damaging than a normal punch by far!


PW: Neither man is fully human. I refuse to believe that human beings
can do this to one another... GOOD LORD!  He’s grinding that wrapped
fist against the open wound, using the edges of that strap to open up
that gash further!


[The Spectre rolls away from this, and attempts to get some distance
to clear the blood from his eyes, but Cole jerks on the strap, sending
an unbalanced (in more ways than one) Spectre teetering right back
within range of a big roundhouse right.  Spectre staggers crazily
across the ring, clearly dazed, but Cole yanks him right back in using
the strap and smashes him again!  Another time Spectre stumbles across
the ring, and again Cole uses the strap to reel him in and deck him,
this time flattening the Gothic fighter clean out.]


CL: Rob Cole playing human tetherball with the Spectre, and the
momentum has completely done a 180-degree turn!  Cole hopping up on
the second rope... OH MY!


[The Monster Beneath The Bed jumps off into a short version of the
rolling Senton Bomb he sometimes uses, but instead of landing on the
chest... he lands on Spectre's HEAD.]


PW: I'm not sure which one of them hurt more from that one!  There's a
reason people don't senton the biggest bone on a person's body.


CL: Cole using the second rope so to reduce the chances of getting
yanked down by the strap!  And now he picks the Spectre up, and blasts
him again with the knuckle-duster like wrapped fist!  Spectre to a
knee... and rebounds back with a lunging headbutt to the ribcage!



PW: He might have knocked the wind out of him!  That surprised Cole!


CL: Spectre taking the opportunity to rush him... AND THEY BOTH GO
OVER THE TOP!


[The ghoulish Spectre launched a clothesline that sent both he and
Cole tumbling over the top rope, in the style of Cactus Jack.  Both of
them now lay on the floor stunned, bleeding, and dazed, as the fans
rally behind Cole to get up.]


CL: Ladies and gentlemen... this match is taking us straight to the
depths of hell as these men continue to tear each other apart in a
game of one-upmanship in violence!


PW: Spectre outside the ring with Rob Cole... this is a dangerous
situation!  Look, if they come anywhere near here, I am bailing out.


CL: Good idea.  They're up, and both men trading blows back and forth,
and Rob Cole with a knee lift to the gut!  He hooks the back of the
neck... and drives the Goth face first into the ring post!


PW: Someone has to stop this maniac before he hurts the Spectre!


CL: But just a moment ago, you were...


PW: Yeah, but I didn't really think Cole could DO it then!


[Cole rears back with the Goth again, and drives him face first into
the ring post one more time!  As Spectre slumps to the ring steps,
Cole snatches another length of loose strap and loops enough for
decent length... and SNAPS the whip across the skull of his enemy!
Spectre clutches at his skull, and his knuckles get the sting from the
next crack of leather! ]


PW: Stop him!


CL: There's no stopping Cole tonight... He takes that length and loops
it under the face... and cinches it tight, his foot in the base of
Spectre skull as the Outcast yanks back on the strap, choking the life
out of the Gothic superstar!


[The crowd roars their approval as Cole leans back on one foot, his
muscles cording as Spectre begins to turn purple, the blood pulsing
from his open head wound... and suddenly launches forward as Cole
releases the strap, SMASHING Spectre’s skull into the steel steps!]


CL: Cole throws the Spectre back into the ring, and enters in after
him.  Cole winds up... big soccer kick to the ribs!  And a knee drop
to that bleeding gash on the head!


PW: Both guys are covered in the blood of... well, both guys.  This is
pretty sick.


CL: Understatement much?  Cole picks up Spectre... looks like a suplex
attempt, maybe his snap suplex... BLOCK!  Spectre blocked it, and
hooks underneath... RELEASE NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!


PW: Oh, that didn't have the big THUD that his early suplexes had,
Chip.  More like a wet THUNK, but still, he's weakened!


CL: Both men down!  And both slow to get up!


[Spectre rushes up first, his inhuman pain tolerance showing as he
shakes it off.  Unfortunately, he got up too fast, and a bout of
vertigo sends him back to a knee... Cole is the first one to make it
to his feet and stay there.  Cole launches a boot to the gut as
Spectre finally rises, to which the Gothic monstrosity responds with a
go-behind... wrapping the leather strap around Cole's eyes as he
goes!]


PW: Brilliant!  He's blindfolded Cole, who's trying to pull the strap
off... and can't defend himself from this!


[Using one hand to pull strap over Cole's eyes, Spectre uses his other
hand to pund on the gash in the back of Cole's head.  He then buries a
knee into Cole's back, staggering him forward.  He follows that up by
taking an end of the blindfold-area strap in each hand, and sawing
back and forth with it!  The crowd boos, though the sadists are
cheering that one.]


CL: SICKENING!


PW: Hey, Cole tried to blind him earlier!  And he sawed his flesh
earlier!  Double payback!


CL: Doubly sick.  Cole struggling to get out, and the Spectre leads
him right into a corner... and kicks him right into it!  Spectre drops
the strap and is unloading on Cole in the corner!  Body punch after
body punch...


PW: I know where this leads!


CL: Spinning backfist into the corner... FATA MORGANA!  THE SPECTRE
HIT THE FATA MORGANA, AND THIS COULD DO IT!


PW: In one motion, the backfist sets up the falling Ace Crusher...
that's got to finish Cole.  He's bleeding on both sides of the head!
The only side left is the INside, and don't think Spectre won't go
after that!


CL: Spectre is making no effort to touch any turnbuckles!  He's not
here to win, he is here to destroy Rob Cole!  Drags him into center
ring... HE'S GOING FOR THE REBIRTH!


[As soon as Spectre hooks the leg of Cole for the fisherman driver,
Cole backdrops him, falling on top of the Goth from a combination of
overexertion and spite.  The fans pop loud for the finisher counter.]


PW: Cole got out of that one!  But he's running on borrowed time!  He
is losing more blood than the Spectre is!  How long before he passes
out from blood loss?


CL: Not much longer, but he is a bit bigger than the Spectre, who is
bleeding almost as badly!  They both may pass out!


[Rob Cole loops the strap around Spectre’s neck, rushing to the side
of the ring and tossing the goth over the top rope... the big man is
pulled up short with a jerk, his fingers preventing the strap from
biting too deeply into his exposed throat!  Cole’s muscles cord
tightly as he leans his weight back...]


PW: He’s hanging him!  This isn’t a match anymore, it’s a lynching!!!


CL: Things might be getting shoved beyond the limits of decency
tonight, and I don’t know how much more these two men can do to one
another.  Spectre is losing consciousness, blood, and whatever sanity
held him together... Cole long since left his sanity at the door!


PW: You're saying Spectre is saner than Cole?


CL: I take that back.  Spectre may be getting the INsanity beaten out
of him now!


[Cole finally releases Spectre, the body slumping to the arena
floor... Cole rolls over the top rope to follow along and pulls a
handful of dreads up to lift Spectre’s prone form, and drags him to
the announcers table!  He rolls Spectre atop, directly in front of the
announce team...]


PW: What are you doing?  You can’t do this, Cole... you can’t be
serious?!





[Cole suddenly lunges forward and SLAPS the announcer across the face,
eliciting an approved roar from the audience as he slumps back in his
chair with a look of stunned shock.  Cole spins and begins to ascend
the ring apron...]


CL: Rob Cole with slap for my colleague... uncalled for!  And now he’s
measuring the distance, pulling that strap to its lengths... he may be
going for the World's Ugliest Frog Splash!  And Spectre is coming to
on the table in front of me!  HE YANKS THE STRAP!


[The crowd almost gives a heel pop, but Cole catches himself on the
top turnbuckle and leans his weight back... both men struggle, yanking
the full length of the strap as it stretches across ringside!  The
announcers suddenly jump back as Specter gets to his feet, using the
counterweight of Cole to achieve his balance... ]


PW: Did you see what that lunatic did to me?!  I hope Spectre yanks
him down right on top of his head... OH DEAR LORD!


[ * C R A A A S H * ! ]


[Almost as if on cue, Cole suddenly shifts, and launches himself at
the standing Spectre, who drops back to the table that doesn’t so much
as buckle, but completely SHATTERS as Coles’ body comes crashing on
top of Spectre with a World’s Ugliest Frog Splash from the second
turnbuckle!

There is announcer silence for a time, as the crowd roars and chants
(several conflicting chants at once, actually), and both Rob Cole and
Spectre lay there in a pileup of debris, limbs, blood, and wreckage!
The camera gets a close of shot of one sharp table fragment that has
found its way somewhere unusual: Rob Cole's left bicep.

At last, the announce team gets their remote units working...]


CL: MERCY!  MERCY!  This has to come to an end right now!  This can’t
keep happening... this is pure barbarism!  Pure blasphemy on this
sport!  I can’t keep watching this massacre... oh God!


PW: Forget that, I WAS SLAPPED!  Disqualify that idiot!


CL: Look at Coles’ arm!  The table has cut a huge gash into the
Outcast's arm!


PW: Good!  Got any salt?


[Cole rolls to the side, clutching at the wound... he staggers towards
the ring attendants and grabs a handful of electric tape from one of
the camera men and immediately begins to tape it around his open
wound!]


CL: GET THE PARAMEDICS!  Rob Cole is trying to treat himself with
ELECTRICAL TAPE for crying out loud!  He'll do more damage to himself,
possibly give himself gangrene!


PW: Gangrene is too good for him!  HE SLAPPED ME!  He should lose that
arm entirely!


CL: That's what gangrene does!


PW: Obviously not fast enough!


[The Spectre is actually the first to reenter the ring as Cole is
taping himself, though the Monster follows quickly.  Cole stomps away
at his foe, who can only cover up at this point.


CL: Cole with a kneelift, counters the axehandle and Spectre staggers
back... Cole with another knee lift!  He hooks Spectre... oh dear
Lord, here we go!  CAST OUT POWERBOMB!





[The fans pop wildly for Cole's finisher, but Cole falls to the mat
clutching his arm in agony.]


PW: But look at the damage it did to his arm!  Blood is pouring
through that make-shift bandage.  Cole had better tag all four of
those turnbuckles quick... so he can get to a lawyer before he passes
out!


CL: He barely hit you, get over it!


[Cole crawls towards one of the corners, and pulls himself to his
feet... he tags the turnbuckle and turns to check on Spectre.  A smile
splits his lips from his teeth as his eyes glaze over, a feral hunger
pulling him away from the turnbuckle.  He suddenly stagger-charges
Spectre and NAILS him on the side of the head with a boot!]


PW: What?  Making contact with your opponent breaks the turnbuckle
count!  He tagged a corner, and then went back to the attack?!  Maybe
he's lost so much blood that he's delusional!


CL: Rob Cole with a chance to gain victory here, but what’s he doing?!
He’s straddling the back of the Spectre, hooking those arms... CAMEL
CLUTCH?!  Rob Cole using the strap across the throat, yanking back as
the referee starts pleading with him to release the hold!  The referee
is trying to end this match, and he may just throw it out for the
safety of both men!


[Spectre’s eyes roll in back of his head... Cole continues to lean
back with his weight, smiling sadistically as he chokes out the gothic
demon!  His muscles cord tight as blood continues to pulse from his
open wounds, and Spectre begins to change shades to purple... foam
flecking his lips as Cole starts to... laugh?!

The fans are not cheering anymore.  They're still loud, but they're
not cheering.]


PW: The Spectre would be thrilled to see this!  He was right!  Cole is
just like him!  And in a minute, Spectre might just be able to see
this as a ghost!


CL: Rob Cole can win the match, but he's throwing it away... Duke
Martin is threatening to call the match, but I'm not even sure he can!


PW: Spectre is... still fighting, and I don't know how!


[Spectre calls on his last reserves, and frees an arm.  He uses it to
claw at Cole's wound... Cole does not break the hold, but the pain
lets Spectre get his knees underneath him.]


CL: Spectre continuing to battle as if his life depends on it, and it
might!  Spectre is getting up... he's lifted Cole up onto his back!
Where is he... OH NO!  OH NO!


[With his last energy, Spectre stands, runs back towards the corner,
and falls.  The back of Rob Cole's head hits the second turnbuckle,
and this would be impressive and dangerous enough, if not for one
important detail...]


PW: THAT WAS THE CORNER WHERE SPECTRE PULLED OFF THE TURNBUCKLE PAD!


CL: SPECTRE DIDN'T MAKE IT TO THE CORNER, BUT THE EFFECT WAS WORSE!
COLE IS UNCONCSIOUS!  COMPLETELY UNCONSCIOUS!


PW: Did he INTEND to do that?  It looked like... it just sort of
happened!


[And your answer comes up off of the canvas... with an evil smile.
Spectre doesn't look to see if Cole is finished.  He knows Cole is
finished.

And then his knees buckle, and he also knows that he is as close to
finished as anyone can get and still be moving.]


CL: Spectre can barely stand... he slumps into a corner.  And... he's
going to another!  Spectre knows he can't continue!  He's touching the
corners!


PW: And why not?!  His work here is done!


CL: The Monster Beneath The Bed came out, and ripped him apart... he's
lucky!  Spectre outmonstered him tonight, but it might be only because
Cole ripped himself up with that frog splash!  One little happenstance
here or there, and the roles would be reversed right now!


PW: That's true, but that's wrestling.  Every match is like that.
Deal with it.


[Spectre hits the last turnbuckle, and immediately sags... exhausted
and wounded... into the corner as the bell rings.]


*DING* *DING* *DING*


[The ring floods with paramedics, and the crowd stands and boos the
result.]


HD: THE WINNER OF THE FOUR CORNERS STRAP MATCH...

	.. T H E     S P E C T R E   !  !


[The Spectre's music again begins to play, but he shows no
acknowledgement of anything.  His eyes are closed, his mouth drawn
into a faint smile, and he is talking to... nobody.  The camera moves
in tight to catch his words, uttered very weakly...]


Spectre: "We... told you... you were... just like us... Cole.
We're... the same..."


[And then the medics swarm him.  Spectre tries to fight them off, but
he just doesn't have enough left.]


CL: ...


PW: Tell me about it.


CL: I never, ever want to see these two wrestle each other again.


PW: 'Wrestle'?  I don't think we've seen them 'wrestle'.  They did a
lot of things tonight, but 'wrestle' isn't a verb I'd have used.


CL: I am petitioning the Championship Committee to never, ever book
Rob Cole and the Spectre to face each other again!  They barely LIVED
through this!  Look at that!  The Spectre is too weakened to fight off
MEDICS!  And Cole is out of it, and who knows if he may have suffered
a major concussion, or a fractured skull, or...  or...


PW: Cerebral hemmoraging?


CL: HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT SO CASUALLY?!




PW: BECAUSE HE SLAPPED ME!  I might go put the boots to him!


CL: And if he's NOT suffered a career-ending injury?


PW: I... uhhhh... am just fired up about seeing such a great match so
I say silly things?  Ha ha?


CL: It's not funny.  We need to put this behind us... we'll be back.

[We cut to an over view of the PVW ring...  A distant cheering is
heard.... It get's louder... louder ... and louder!!!  The bell rings
and clips of various PVW superstars are seen..]

V/O: Phoenix Valley Wrestling teamed up with Strickland Sports Network
takes the show on the road for the first time...

[The PVW next supercard, End Game logo comes across the screen and
underneath -  Anaheim convention center.... We cut back to the
announcers.]


HD: It's time for the rematch from Rise From the Ashes....  It's for
the PVW Rising Phoenix Heritage Championship!

[Pop!]

HD: Introducing the Challenger... Standing at six foot four and
weighing in at two hundred and fort pounds...  Led to the ring by the
infamous, "Mega Agent" Paul Sandler...


Here Is ...




"BAD KARMA" ...

RJ SOUZA !!!




['I'm Nationwide" by ZZ Top starts up. Paul Sandler walks out in his
black suit, red shirt and black tie. Sandler carries RJ's "Louieville"
with him. Behind him comes the Man In Black. The devious "Bad Karma"
RJ Souza. His raises his fists as the crowd boos him. He's wearing his
black jean shorts, black ray-bans, and black boots. His T-shirt reads
"Who's The Puppet Now??" He slides under the ring as the lyrics start
up.]

**I had a bluesman in the back,
**and a beautician at the wheel.
**We're going downtown in the middle of the night
**We was laughing and I'm jokin' and we feelin' alright.
**Oh I'm bad,
**I'm nationwide.
**Yes I'm bad,
**I'm nationwide.

[As the guitar solo starst up RJ goes to a corner and does the
thumb/throat slash thing as the crowd boos him some more.]

**Easin' down the highway in a new Cadillac,
**I had a fine fox in front, I had three more in the back.
**They sportin' short dresses, wearin' spike-heeled shoes,
**They smokin' Lucky Strikes, wearing nylon too.
**Welcome back,
**we're nationwide.
**Yeah we bad,
** we're nationwide

[RJ's music starts to fade as he awaits the Champion.]

PW: Paul Sandler no doubt has RJ fired up tonight.  We could see a new
champion!

CL: Not if Chris Hartt has anything to say about this.

HD: His opponent.....

[TEAR DOWN THE ROOF POP!]

CL: The fans love The Paladin right here in Phoenix!

HD: Standing at five foot eleven and weighing in at two hundred and
forty five pounds....


Here is ...


THE PVW RISING PHOENIX HERITAGE CHAMPION ....




"THE PALADIN"




CHRIS HARTT !!!



['Through the Fire and Flames' by DragonForce plays over the speakers.
Chris Hartt walks out from backstage and looks at Souza, already
standing in the ring.  Hartt's intensity and furious look speaks
volumes.  The young man runs hand over his hair, slicking it back and
slowly makes his way to the ring.  His eyes never leave Souza's.]

CL:  There's no love or mercy in those eyes, right now!  Chris Hartt
is coming out here for a FIGHT!

PW: He's one serious customer, today!  This kid may be a self-
righteous blowhard, but he's got some serious skills and this match
with Souza's gonna require them all!





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

	One on One, Rising Phoenix Heritage Match:
	RJ souza
	v. Chris Hartt [c]

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



<<<  DING DING   >>>


CL: And here comes Souza with a baseball slide out of the ring... he
tries to clothesline Chris Hartt out of his boots, but the Paladin
ducks and dives into the ring!

PW: He’s just going to make the Bat Man very angry... and he’s right
after him, heading into the ring!

[Hartt locks up with Souza in a collar and elbow tie-up.  Hartt takes
Souza to a side-headlock.  Souza tosses Hartt into the ropes, bounces
off and leaps over Souza, who drops flat to the mat.  Hartt leaps over
and bounces off the opposite ropes. ]

CL: Quick action from both men as they go right on the attack!

PW: It’s all about the gold, my friend... the Rising Phoenix Heritage
Title is on the line, and so is the marriage of RJ Souza!  This is
about gold and honor... gold and honor!

[Souza gets up, catches Hartt with a hiptoss, but Hartt spins and
locks legs around Souza's head taking him over with a headscissor
takedown. Hartt follows up with a Mexican Surfboard stretch.]

CL: A quick submission attempt by Hartt!!!  He’s wrenching back on
those arms, twisting the shoulders back as RJ shuts his eyes in
pain...
he’s refusing to submit!

[Hartt lets go after a few painful seconds, then nails Souza with a
Shining Wizard!]

PW: He almost took his head off with that knee!

CL: Cover!







ONE ...







TWO ...







Kickout by Souza!


PW: RJ isn’t out soon... I think Chris Hartt was looking to end this
quickly and send a message to RJ Souza in the process!

CL: Hartt with a headbutt! He drives a fist right into the skull and
backs RJ into the corner... he sends RJ for the ride and the Bat Man
hits the turnbuckles hard! Hartt moves in and catches his old friend
on the rebound, sidewalk slam!

PW:  Paul Sandler cheering his man on... urging RJ to fight on!  To
fight strong!

CL: And Chris Hartt distracted for only a moment, giving RJ the chance
to roll into the corner... he comes in, but RJ with a kick to the gut!
Another kick!  And another!!!  Hartt is doubled over.  And RJ comes
out... RAKE TO THE EYES!!!!

PW: That’s one way to slow down your opponents’ momentum!

CL: The referee warning RJ about that move, but RJ ignores him... and
tosses Hartt back into the corner, and there’s a right, left, right,
left, a flurry of stiff shots to the gut, and he heads it with a ROUGH
hook to the side of the head!

[The crowd boos, and RJ steps back... measuring the champion before
driving into him with a harsh looking forearm to the side of skull!
The crowd hates him for it, and the referee continues to try and get
him to bring the match out of the corner... threatening a five count
before RJ snapmares Hartt from the corner.]

CL: RJ Souza laying the hurt on Chris Hartt, and the champion is
struggling to find his balance once more.

PW: This is all childs’ play for the challenger!  He’s just waiting
for the right time to gift wrap his title with a decisive win on Chris
Hartt!

CL: He drops a foot across the skull... Another stomp!  And now Souza
heads up the turnbuckles...signaling an elbow, but Hartt is back on
his feet!  He catches Souza in the breadbasket!!!  Another shot to the
gut, and Sandler takes to the apron and the referee intercepts!

[The crowd boos loudly as Souza rakes the eyes again, grabs the tag
rope and wraps it around the throat of Chris Hartt!!!!  He leans back
from his seat on the top turnbuckle, nearly lifting the Paladin off
his feet with the rope around his throat!!!!]

CL: Damnit!!! This isn’t everything goes... this is a Heritage Title
match!  What is RJ Souza trying to do?!?!!

PW: He’s trying to win... and if he can’t win, he’s trying to kill the
man that stole his wife!

[RJ releases the tag rope a moment before the referee turns around...
as
Hartt staggers away from him, holding his throat, the challenger leaps
from the second turnbuckle and brings the champ down with a STIFF
bulldog into the center of the ring!!!  The crowd hates it, roaring
their disapproval as RJ goes for the cover.]



ONE ...





TWO ...







THr... KICKOUT!!!!!


PW: I’ll give the champ his due... I thought he was finished right
there, but he managed to get his shoulder up right in the nick of
time!  RJ might have to choke the life out of Chris Hartt before the
champion decides to just stay down!

CL: I don’t know if you’re happy about that or not, but RJ certainly
is not!  He pulls Chris Hartt to his feet and SLAPS the taste out of
his mouth!  A knife edge chop sends Hartt staggering back to the
corner... and there’s another!  And another!  He goes for the irish
whip, and Hartt is driven hard into the turnbuckles!  Here comes RJ...
NO!!!!

PW: Whoah!!!! Where did Hartt come from?!?!!

CL: Hartt able to launch himself out of the corner and catches RJ with
a stiff clothesline!  RJ’s head bounced off the mat!  This thing is
highly personal between these two men, but Chris Hartt seems more
focused than I’ve seen him in months... he pulls RJ to his feet!  OH
FORGET ABOUT IT!!!! Perfectly executed snap suplex!  Hartt floats
over, into a cover...




ONE ...




TWO ...





KICKOUT!!!!!




PW: Thing is, I don’t think Hartt wanted the win right there.  I think
he was just forcing RJ to kick out, to expend some energy.  Now the
champion hooks a top wrist lock, forcing RJ to keep one shoulder off
the mat as the pressure gets applied...

CL: Referee right there... checking on the submission, checking on the
shoulder... there’s a one count, and RJ is forced to lift that
shoulder
again!  You might be right, here!  This is where Chris Hartt excels...
in the small things these men do to wear one another down, to gain an
advantage, to do it clean and do it right!

[The crowd gets on their feet, roaring for Hartt to get the submission
as RJ Souza struggles to get out of the basic hold... finally, Paul
Sandler reaches into the ring and grabs his man’s ankle and YANKS it
to the ropes!  The referee calls for a break, but Hartt knows just who
helped his old "friend".]

CL: Chris Hartt with some choice words for Paul Sandler... A LOW BLOW
FROM RJ SOUZA!!!! GOOD LORD!!!!!

PW: The referee is in his face... he might just throw this match out
for that blatant low blow!

[The crowd boos loudly as RJ backs up, claiming he hit the inner
thigh... "I didn’t mean to hit him there... the muscles are stiff from
that arm hold... come on!!!"  the referee continues to berate RJ...
and
the crowd boos even more loudly as Hartt manages to get to his knees,
and gets NAILED by Paul Sandler!]

CL: Sandler with a shot on Hartt!  He goes for another one... HARTT
CATCHES THE FIST!!!!!  The crowd is going crazy as Hartt yanks Sandler
up through the second rope... He rears back, and Sandler twists his
body like crazy and manages to free himself a split second before
Hartt can nail him!  OH GOD!!!!
PW: And that lets RJ Souza NAIL Chris Hartt with the spear!!!!
HAH!!!! He goes for the cover...




ONE ...








TWO ...






THR... NO!!!!! I don’t believe it!!! COME ON!!!!



CL: The referee catches RJ’s boots on the second rope, and RJ isn’t
happy with that!

PW: We almost had a new champion!

[The crowd roars and hollers as Destiny Souza is seen making her way
down ringside... she shakes her head sadly, watching the action in the
ring.  She gasps as RJ sees her and points in her direction.  He turns
and NAILS the rising Chris Hartt with a stiff elbow to the back of the
neck!  Another shot!!! And another!!!]

CL: Renewed aggression from RJ Souza as he starts packing in the
elbows on Chris Hartt... side Russian leg sweep!  He drops down and
applies a front chancery headlock... pulling Hartt to his own knees...
KNEE  TO THE MIDSECTION!!!! Another knee!!! Another knee!!!

PW: AND ONE TO THE FACE!!!! Hartt didn’t even see that one coming, but
it knocked him loose!  I think he might have a broken nose...

[The crowd boos, and we see a shot of a dazed Hartt... blood pouring
from his bruised and misshapen nose after that knee shot.  RJ Souza
circles him, smiling as he watches his former friend try to regain his
balance... he moves in and pulls Hartt to his feet! ]

CL: AVENGER!!!!!  RJ Souza locks on the Avenger... that cross-face
chickenwing Chris Hartt has perfected is now being used against him!
Hartt backs Souza into the corner hard!!!  He manages to grab on to
the ropes... the referee is calling for a break... one... two...
Three... four...

PW: Souza let him go!!! See!!!

CL: RJ Souza pointing to his wife... he moves in on Chris Hartt, but
the
champion sidesteps the spear this time!  Souza into the corner, and he
pulls himself up the turnbuckles and spins to face Hartt!
[Hartt backs up, motioning Souza on... the Bat Man rushes for the
spear
one more time, but Hartt steps in quicker and catches the head...
DDT!!!!! The crowd goes crazy!!!! ]

CL: Hartt moves in on Souza and grabs his arm.  The champion wraps
around him and hooks the other arm.  Hartt cinches and snaps back,
whipping Souza quickly overhead and back to the mat with a hard thud!
Beautiful modified suplex!!!

[Hartt gets up and locks in an Indian Deathlock.  Souza scrambles and
reaches for the bottom rope.  Hartt maintains the pressure, but Souza
just manages to get fingertips onto the rope, then easily grabs a
handful. ]

PW: The ref calls for the break.

[Hartt lets go and when Souza gets to his feet, Hartt moves in and
chopblocks Souza's knee!  The crowd roars and Souza buckles, but holds
the ropes for balance.  Hartt moves in again, but Souza manages to
spread the ropes just enough and Hartt sails through the ropes and out
of the ring!]

CL: Desperation move on the part of RJ Souza!

PW: Chris Hartt on the outside of the ring... and RJ Souza hits the
ropes and delivers a baseball slide!!! Hartt knocked back to the arena
floor, his face covered with his own blood from that broken nose! This
is great!!!

CL: Hartt uses the ring barrier, trying to get to his feet... oh, dear
lord... Destiny Souza is sitting right in front of him!  Look at the
tears in her eyes as she tries to avert her gaze... RJ outside the
ring now, he sees his wife... and he DRIVES Chris Hartt face first
into
the railing!  AGAIN!!!! AND AGAIN!!!! GOOD LORD!!!!!

[The crowd continues to boo as RJ Souza adds insult to injury... he
tosses Chris Hartt over the rail, dropping him across the lap of his
own wife.  "You want him?!?!!  Take him!" Destiny cries out and Hartt
pushes himself from her lap, shaking his head as she stands and backs
up the aisle... horrified by the actions of her husband.]

PW: RJ Souza letting his wife know she chose a broken man... he pulls
the champion back over the guardrail and rushes him to the ring
post... YES!!!!

CL: Good lord... Chris Hartt’s body just flopped to the arena floor
like a rag doll!

[Souza rolls into the ring, breaking the count... and then heads back
out to continue his assault on Chris Hartt.  The champion struggles to
his knees... and Souza rushes in to deliver a kick, only to get his
leg scooped out from beneath him!]





[HUGE FACE POP!!!! ]





PW: I don’t believe it!!!!

CL: Chris Hartt unloading on the challenger with rights and lefts....
He
pulls RJ Souza to his feet and cinches him up.  Up... and DOWN WITH
THE
SUPLEX!!!! RJ Souza hits the arena floor hard!

[The crowd is on their feet, and Chris Hartt pulls Souza up again...
he twists beneath the arm, hammerlocking it behind RJ Souza before
grabbing a front waistlock... he hoists up and snaps back with a
northern-lights suplex with full body impact on that locked up arm!]

PW: A bit of a taste for blood from Chris Hartt!  He’s going for that
arm like a rabid dog...

CL: Souza trying to get back in the ring, away from Hartt... and the
Paladin manages to snatch that arm from outside the ring, and drops
down to snap it across that ring apron!  Souza rolling into the
ring... and Chris Hartt follows in after him!

[Souza begs off with his good arm, but Chris Hartt slaps it away and
ducks in with an elbow to the crook of the shoulder!  Souza twists
away and tries to dive out of the ring... but Chris Hartt, nose bloody
and all, manages to snatch his tights!!!!  He yanks back hard, and RJ
Souza flails as he is sent back into the ring.]

CL: Trying to get out of the ring now, but Chris Hartt is looking for
the Avenger right now... He chickenwings that damaged arm, but RJ
Souza blocks the avenger!!!  Chris Hartt with an elbow to the back of
the neck... another to that damaged shoulder... and another!J

PW: Over the shoulder Judo armflip!!!!  He might want to cripple RJ
Souza after that display earlier tonight!!!

[Souza rolls to the outside, shaking his head as he points at his
shoulder... Paul Sandler comes rushing to his side as Chris Hartt
watches from the ring.  He shakes his head once and suddenly spins and
hits the ropes.  HE LAUNCHES HIMSELF OVER THE TOP ROPE!!!!!]

CL: I DON’T BELIEVE IT!!!!!

PW: HE MISSED!!!!!





[*HUGE HEEL POP!!!!* ]





[Paul Sandler, sees Hartt launch himself and shoves both he and his
client out of the way... Chris Hartt flips over for a senton and hits
nothing but the pavement!!! His body slides into the aisle, limbs
akimbo as he’s knocked completely unconscious!  RJ Souza stares down
at Hartt and seems a bit stunned...]

CL: RJ Souza stunned at Hartt’s drive and tenacity...

PW: More likely he’s trying to figure out how to take advantage.
Sandler telling him to put him in the ring and cover... The referee is
counting.




ONE ...





TWO ...



[RJ Souza walks over and grabs Chris Hartt, pulling him to his feet...
but it’s all dead weight, and Souza suddenly clutches at his arm in
pain.  He lets Hartt drop to the floor and takes a few steps back.  He
glances towards the ring and back at Hartt.]



THREE ...





FOUR ...



CL: Chris Hartt is starting to move... drawing his knees beneath
himself as RJ Souza moves in again.  He measures Hartt...




FIVE ...





SIX ...



PW: Chris Hartt isn’t going to know what hit him!!!!



SEVEN ...



EIGHT ...



[The crowd gives a huge heel pop as Chris Hartt manages to pull
himself up the guardrail and RJ Souza snaps a Karma Kick directly
beneath his jaw!!!!]


NINE ...


[Souza suddenly spins and DIVES into the ring... just before the
referee lifts both hands and shouts.]




TEN!!!!!!!!



[The Referee calls for the bell as Sandler gets upset at ringside. The
referee tries to raise RJ's hand in victory... while Paul Sandler
grabs the title and goes to the apron. He throws the title to RJ.]

PW: The winner and the man who should be champion, RJ Souza, he’s
holding that title high above the arena here tonight!  Why did Chris
Hartt have to take the easy way out???

CL: Easy way out?  RJ delivered the Karma Kick outside the ring on
purpose!!!!

[Dropping from the ring apron RJ locates Chris Hartt. He circles him
for a moment and kneals down beside the champion with a smile on his
face. He puts the title to his face....]

RJ Souza: Is this worth it, Chris?? It was Never about the title. It's
just a thing. Just like you tried to take something that belonged to
ME!!!

[Sickened by the image of his former friend, RJ smacks The Paladin in
the head with the title. Blood from Chris Hartt covers the gold and
turns it crimson red.]

RJ Souza: Another time, BITCH!!!

[RJ and a woozy Paul Sandler walk away as the camera fades.]



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

           Credits:
Brian: Ryder/Parker, Damage/Young, Royal Family/Foley-Law
Rob: Fly-Travis/Urban Legend, Andrews/Lane
Mark: Souza/Hartt
Chris: Kids/Rages
Jer: Spectre/Cole

Feel like your missing out and interested in helping? Just email
pvwinc@gmail.com  =)

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